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Her own body heated as she watched him writhe in the kind of orgasm only the demon wine could deliver. Well, that wasn’t true… on the Other Side, in Heaven, the mating of two souls was like that. The Marrow wine had originally been created to simulate what fallen angels had lost when they were booted out of Heaven, and yes, it came close, was the second most incredible thing one could experience.

Her fingers itched to touch him, and she found herself reaching for his thick arousal. She just wanted to stroke it a little. She wanted to trace the outline against the fly of his pants, maybe slide the pad of her thumb over the tip, since it was nearly peeking out from under his waistband.

Liquid lust seeped between her legs, and Whine growled low in his throat, scenting her arousal and sparking his own. He hais own. d been there for her when she needed blood, sex, and someone to buffer her anger. At times she treated him harshly, but that was what was expected of her, and if she did any less, both Whine and she would pay dearly.

“Go,” she said, and though he hesitated, he obeyed.

His nature wouldn’t allow him to go far or to pleasure himself until he’d received her permission, which meant that if she needed him later, he’d be ready and willing.

Reaver moaned, his lips parting, eyes closed as pleasure took him. His hips pushed up and pulled back, a pumping motion controlling his body, and wetness began to spread along the fly of his pants as he came over and over.

He was beautiful.

Leave her alone. He’d saved her. He could have remained silent, let Pestilence violate her, torture her, but Reaver had risked his own safety. The knowledge rippled through her in a wave of gratitude that melded with her lust, and she lunged, prepared to take him in her hand—

His fingers snapped up to snare her wrist just before she touched his arousal. Gasping, she shifted her gaze to his face, where pleasure had etched itself into the set of his parted lips, his drowsy lids, his flushed skin. But behind all that were his sapphire irises, which glowed like hot coals.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you for coming to my aid.”

“No female should suffer that.” A twisted smile curved his lips. “But I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Reseph.” His fingers closed so tightly around her arm that she cried out, feeling the bones in her wrist cracking. “You… the first chance I get… I’m going to kill.”

Thanatos stepped out of the Harrowgate in front of Ares’s house and dialed Limos on his cell. “Be at my Greenland Harrowgate in five minutes. And bring Arik.”

He was going to find out if Limos’s new husband had any knowledge of what Regan had planned. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised, given Limos’s revelations. Maybe she’d married someone as devious as she was.

Except… Thanatos was having a hard time holding onto that anger. He’d been pissed when she’d first admitted her deceptions, but he knew her too well to believe she didn’t regret her past. And if he could believe Reseph could be saved, then how could he forsake Limos?

Arik, however, was another story. Thanatos had wanted to believe in the human, but if he was in league with Regan…

Limos’s voice buzzed over the airwaves. “Than, I can’t. I’m just getting ready to take Arik to the R-XR—”

“Bring him!” In a fit of rage, he disconnected by hurling the phone against a stone pillar that rose up like a sentinel at the entrance to Ares’s garden. It exploded in a blast of plastic and electronic guts.

Dripping blood and melting snow, he stormed inhe stormto Ares’s house, only to be stopped by Ares’s chief Ramreel, Vulgrim. “My lord, you’re injured—”

“I know that,” he snapped. “Where’s Cara?”

“She’s… busy, sir.”

“Where’s Ares?”

Vulgrim cleared his throat. “Busy as well.”

Right. Than shoved past the demon and stalked to Ares’s bedroom, where he pounded on the door, leaving bloody smears on the white paint. “Open up!”

An erotic snarl echoed behind the wood. “Go away, Than.” Ares’s warning was loud and clear, but Than ignored it and slammed his fist into the door again.

“Styx is dying.