Archangel Rafe (A Novel of The Seven Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

their bond grew stronger and the desire to move beyond the boundaries and rules put in place centuries ago ballooned into a longing he couldn’t ignore or deny. And he had no idea what to do about it.
    He knew this was wrong.
    He could not have sexual congress with her, a human. Hadn’t the lessons of the Grigori and Nephilim been hammered into them all? If he continued on this path and the Virtues discovered his activity, he could forget about his ascension to the Second Sphere, because he would be fallen.
    And yet, he couldn’t deny her.
    Her sadness overwhelmed him. Instead of progressing with her training, he’d yet to speak a single word to her. The time was coming. He had to explain, had to begin her education. Once they began her transition, this erotic fantasy would have to stop. Right now, he skated the line but as soon as she was aware of who he was and her role in the Angelic Realm, all physical contact would be strictly forbidden.
    He had avoided consummation of their relationship.
    Fortunately, it was easy to do once he opened his eyes. The reality of his transgressions struck him with all the might and wrath of the Angelic Realm.
    The tingle grew stronger.
    “Uh, Nathan, we need to postpone the rest of your report.”
    “Sir?”
    “I’m being summoned.” And he disintegrated.

FIVE
    She knew he would come. Almost as if she had conjured him.
    “You’re here.” She sighed.
    He looked magnificent. Tall and strong and sure. His shoulders were a place to rest her burden for a little while. His muscles were sleek, his skin hot as she trailed her fingertips from his heavily defined bicep and down to his hands. A smile curved her mouth and her eyelids drifted shut.
    He was here. Her own personal stress buster and mood enhancer.
    He clasped her hand with his, fingers strong and solid. His other hand cupped her face and his thumb caressed her cheek. His lips brushed hers, and pulled the tension and sadness from her as if he had inhaled the emotions and blown them away.
    “Angelina,” he whispered, seductively, like a siren beckoning sailors to the shore.
    She blinked. Wait a minute . He hadn’t ever spoken before. And she didn’t want conversation.
    Angelina leaned into him, her nipples already aroused from his scent, a mix of herbs and flowers that triggered a rush of hormones. Her breasts brushed the wall of his pectorals as he skimmed his hand over her skin. Her nerves shivered in his wake.
    As if she wished away her clothes, Angelina was naked.
    She rubbed against him, and ran her free hand around to his hard sleek deltoids, then down to cup his ass. She undulated, and pushed her hips into his to seek relief from the building pressure.
    The hard ridge of his erection brushed at her belly.
    She swept a hand up his back, distracted at the suppleness of his skin, then slid her hand over his shoulder blades. No wings. Just muscle and bone. As the reality of the muscles in his back registered, she blinked at him in shock. “Your wings are gone.”
    “They’re really just for show. It’s what humans expect,” he replied as he gazed at her. “We start out with wings and then as you come into acceptance, we get rid of them.”
    Now they would skip straight to the part where he looked at her in horror. She braced for the rejection, and waited for the incredible sense of betrayal that followed his look of shame. Then his words registered. Come into acceptance? What was to accept?
    And why did her subconscious pick now to have her dream man talk? She didn’t want talk. She wanted him to worship her.
    Angelina’s head dropped back as she looked up at him. His pupils dilated as he held her gaze. Liquid, lost, on fire. She wanted him. She wanted to lick every inch of his body, explore him with her lips and teeth and tongue. Then start all over again.
    He curled his arm around her, his palm hot and insistent on her butt. His forearm braced her body to stop her from melting into a puddle of arousal at his feet.