Enrapture | The Angels Series Book 2 | Slow Updates

Chapter Eighteen

Emerging on the other side of the dark portal, Michael and Athena stumbled back into Hell. It was too soon, if you asked him. They had only just left the desolate wasteland the night before. A foul stench assaulted his nostrils and he cringed, looking around to see the remains of the once feared Behemoth. Piles of rotting flesh still surrounded the gate to the mortal realm – their odor made riper with every passing minute. He would be glad once they were away from this place.

Athena brushed past him and he watched her hips rock from side to side as she approached the pile of rubble that was once a sumptuous chariot. A chariot ridden by the Goddess of Warfare herself. He hung back when she picked through the debris, bending over the heap and kicking aside splintered pieces of wood.

"Tartarus," she mumbled, dropping the cracked slab of what was once paneling for her chariot. Running her slender fingers through the thick waves of her golden-brown hair and pushing the strands away from her face, she blew out a breath and pouted her bottom lip. "This will take much more than a simple repair spell. I'll need to conjure an entirely new chariot."

Michael frowned, his gaze passing over the pile of useless material. "Will you use the remains of your former chariot to create a new one?"

She gave him an impish smile, tossing her hair to one side and sauntering over to him. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but he could hardly stop his stare from lowering, raking over her delicious curves before stopping at her hips. He couldn't seem to stop watching their sway as she strolled toward him with an air of elegance and undeniable grace.

When she stood mere inches away from him, he could feel the heat of her body seep into him. She placed a single hand in his line of sight, obstructing his view of her perfect waistline, curling all her fingers into a fist minus the index and middle fingers. His eyes remained glued to them as she walked those fingers over his abdomen, the tips gently pressing into the sliver of robes that could be seen below the start of his chest plate.

Her fingers trekked past his lower belly and onto the cold metal of his chest piece, and he watched curiously as she continued to place one finger in front of the other, walking them all the way up his armor before curling over the top of his breastplate. She gave the protective covering a hard tug, forcing him to take a clumsy step toward her as well as dip his head until their faces were only centimeters apart.

"Kiss me," she breathed, her pink tongue darting out between those luscious lips, teasing him with a sultry smile and slow sweep of her tongue across that full bottom lip. He groaned, able to deny her nothing.

Their lips brushed, gently at first and then more urgently. Her mouth parted, and her tongue sought entrance into his own. He opened for her, his eyes sliding shut as energy arced through him when the tips of their tongues touched. She whimpered, her hold tightening on his armor and her free arm curling around his neck. She dug her fingers into the hair at his nape and pulled him closer, her tiny body with its sinful curves pressing against the hard shaft that was tight against his trousers. He was lost – a slave to his desire and the raging need to bring her to completion repeatedly. His arms encircled her slight frame, holding her immobile against him. All too soon, she pulled away. He forced his eyes open, just in time to see hers flutter apart, and gave her a dazzling – if not a little confused – smile.

"What was that for?" he whispered, fighting against the urge to press her down into the black sand and make her his.

"I enjoy kissing you," she husked, her warm breath washing against his face, "but mostly, to lessen the sting of what I'm about to do next."

He arched a brow and gave her an amused smile. What was his little goddess up to?

Stepping out of his embrace, Athena brought her arms out to either side of her – her palms facing away from her body. Her eyes slipped shut as she murmured unfamiliar words under her breath. Slowly, she brought her palms together, holding them at her sternum as though she were in prayer. A dull, yellow glow began to pulse between her palms. The air around them shifted, and Michael tensed when a breeze of unknown origin swirled around them.