Heart of Stone

Thank God for old-fashioned hardcovers. The e-book reader she had at home wouldn’t have packed nearly the same punch.

So I'm not allowed to take responsibility for the whole world, but you are, huh? Kees felt the corners of his mouth twitch and his heart squeeze and then melt. ... I am bigger, he growled. And she laughed.

Ella squeezed, wringing a groan from his throat that echoed the torments of the damned. Usually, though, the damned didn't lean into the torment in a silent entreaty for more. Or so she assumed. She didn't think hell was likely to be kinky.

She stretched beneath him, bare and aching, held captive by an entirely new form of magic, one she'd thought existed only in books and movies.

Still shuddering, he collapsed atop her on a long, strangled groan. It sounded as if someone had just wrung out his soul. Ella knew precisely how he felt.

Only in porn did people appear to need sex as badly as she needed it right that minute.

She could sense the desire pouring off the man in front of her, and to be wanted so obviously, so fiercely, went to her head like moonshine. He made her feel like a goddess. Provided goddesses got this horny.

God knew she’d met more than enough human men in her life who could barely commit to what they wanted for dinner, let alone to the sacrifice required of a Guardian.

Unfortunately, the hermit gig didn’t pay much, and Ella was addicted to living indoors and eating regularly, so she had to work,