Between Heaven and Hell (PA #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Willow

I'm a sweaty mess of heated blood and aching muscles. Flat on my back, his hips thrust against mine, driving with a single-minded purpose. He's unrelenting in his mission, not a single piece of me remains untouched by him. His presence looms large, an all-consuming tidal wave of fiercely repressed emotion.

My hands push against his chest and my legs lock around his waist in a bid to flip him over. There's no give in his pectorals, no surrender in his body.

I want to scream my exasperation to the skies.

"Is this the best you've got, angel? Seriously?"

His smug attitude rubs me the wrong way.

His dick is rubbing you the right way. All hard in those leather pants, giving your pussy the most delicious friction.

My brain is a wanton little horndog, and I don't have the patience for her drooling.

"Why are you so heavy? You have the body of a skateboarder who eats nicotine for breakfast. You shouldn't be able to pin me so easily!"

Alexander's smirk notches to a higher degree. "You're weak like the rest of your species."

Here we go again with the sweeping generalizations...

I give up on fighting him, choosing instead to slacken my sore muscles on the padded mat. "You know, you can't base your opinion of the entire human race on the interactions you had with the ones in Hell. They're the worst of the worst. Child molesters, wife beaters, serial killers—you name it, they've done it. They're also being tortured by demons—which is well deserved—so they seem weak to you as they scream and plead for their pathetic lives."

He rests his full weight on me and it's comfortable instead of constricting. Why isn't it constricting?

Alexander blows a minty breath. "I've met other humans. Alive ones."

"Yeah, me."

"Not just you, angel," he snaps. "The worlds do not revolve around your basic self."

His eyes are disarming. One blue, one brown. It's difficult to look at them both at the same time, but choosing one over the other is just as impossible. More often than not, I end up darting between brown, then blue, then brown, then blue. The blue is colder, devoid of any perceivable emotion. The brown is warmer, packed with any feeling Alexander buries.

I gaze into his brown iris, desperately searching for answers. When did he meet another human? Why does the topic inspire such vitriol? Even more so than is usual for Alexander, I mean.

"So, out of all of the humans you've met, dead or alive, where do I rank?"

His pupil expands until his eye appears black. "Depends on what we're ranking. Most annoying? You're in first place. Most likely to derail my day and make me violent? Also first place. The person I'd actually save if they were in danger of dying? Dead last. Does that answer your question?"

My mouth opens before my brain has a chance to catch up. "You better watch out, Alexander. Galileo used to hate me, too, and now he's itching to fuck me. It's like my superpower."

He laughs, the motion pressing his pelvis more firmly against mine. "Your vagina is your superpower? That's fucking rich, angel. Priceless, really, that you mistake sexual desire for love. You can fuck someone and still not care if they live or die."

He's not entirely wrong, but I'm on a roll today. "Is that why you're hard right now? You want me but you don't care about me?"

"I'm hard because I have a warm body wrapped around me like a fucking snake. You've been practically humping me for the last ten minutes. Doesn't mean I'll do anything about it."