House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Chapter 93 (Clare)

He pushed her flat on the bed, her brain in waves, eyes dizzy, her body tight with anticipation, she squeezed her legs tight together to hold her arousal,

His eyes furious, dark, Was it need? Or something else, “Control yourself, Clare, I’m not here to serve your needs princess, not tonight, not like this.”

She jumped out of the bed, something struck her, it no longer felt like a dream, it was real, these feelings, the room, her instincts rose, she glided her hands through her hair, hoping to find a knot to pull at.

Her breathing heavy, need still there, she urged herself to keep it together, stuttering she asked, “who are you?”

She was across from him, on the opposite side of the bed. His unflinching gaze held her frozen, his back so straight, shoulders so broad, she felt like an ant in front of a giant, “How did you get in here, why are you kissing me.” The last few words came out as a breath barely audible to her own ears.

Turning away from her, he switched the main lights on, back still faced in her view, layered black straight neck length hair moving with his reflexes. Just this stranger’s hair spoke of untold perfection, masculine as the jagged edges played touch on his jaw.

Turning to face her, she stopped breathing. His features so sharp, his strong jaw line-shaped his face, chin prominent and golden glowing skin. Deeply stained pink fleshy lips tightened, but they weren’t plump. She knew all too well that it was males lips, the one that spoke of experience.

His eyes, his eyes, tanzanite blue, staring straight at her. She had never seen a man more beautiful, she had thought no one finer than Kalbreal but this stranger to her eyes, he was in a league of new heights, big deep blue set eyes, with the sparkles of finely cut diamonds, his cheeks hollowed, giving him sharp distinctive features, his face dirty, his stubble a day old at least, she was a goner.

His anger which vibrated off him was the only thing keeping her from the brink of her sanity, managing to barely keep her composure. Watching closely, his fingers on his right hand, as he glided his thumb on their tips. She could feel his eyes on her, as she watched his hand. Looking up at him, his face showing no emotion, no sign of anything. He’d managed to hide his anger, he was not the man who had just mauled her, claimed, as one would to a lover. This was no man, he was no Angel either, there was no league he’d fit.

His perfect gentleman posture, so cold, she shivered but why did he kiss- “The stronger the mind the harder it is to control.”

She knew that deep voice, oh yes, how could she forget, Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

He hadn't answered her question, but made a statement. The black suit pants he wore was dirty now that she paid attention, the cut fitted him perfectly. She could still feel the tingle in her fingers.

The same fingers that itched to touch the curve of his waist line. He had no scars, she could tell by the long slash mark of his creamed shirt revealing the apex of his torso’s hairline. Eyes tracing the happy trail, forgetting that he was looking at her, she stopped right at the top button. How was he so mouthwatering, she moaned,

“Control yourself”

Eyes narrowed she snarled, startled by his loud words that ordered her to only obey.

His arm just below where his shirt sleeve folded up, had a navy blue tattoo of a pentagram with weird symbols surrounding it, and another on his neck. His voice, accentless, but his attire so formal, like a businessman, maybe he was, but Clare couldn’t be sure.

“Our connection is sexual, you need to control it, breathe.” His voice sounded distant now, almost like an echo.

“You’re in a semi dream.”His stare not wavering from hers, his face expressionless.

“Dream?” It was a sound of disbelief, “You mean I’m dreaming, so all this didn’t happen.” She let out a lungful of air, holding a hand to her mouth,

“fuck.”