by Lexi Ostrow
His every sense felt alive for the first time since his father’s passing. It was as if the kiss was breathing life into him, reviving the dead branches of his soul and helping him feel again. His tongue swept across the seam of her lips, and for a moment, she went still before kissing him again, letting his tongue slip betwixt her lips. Their tongues danced together as if they had done this countless times before, not mere seconds. His toes seemed to curl inside his boots, and his prick throbbed with a need so strong, he didn’t know how much longer he could control himself.
A small, needy mewl emanated from Audrey, and his shaft twitched in his dress trousers. He could scarcely focus on anything except their panted breaths. She wasn’t frigid, she did not find him a burden, or worse, unacceptable. Steeling his impure thoughts away, he leaned out of the kiss and opened his eyes.
Audrey did so a moment later, and she did not pull back or shy away as if she had done anything out of sorts. The marriage contract had stated that she was virginal, and he had no doubt of that, but she had kissed him with such fervor, she must desire him as well.
“Are you certain?” his voice was a husky pant, and he had to strain not to lean in and kiss her swollen lips once more.
The nod of her head was graceful, almost regal. “I am certain, Thomas. I am your wife, this is my duty.”
Half of his erection deflated at her words. Cupping her chin in his hands, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and on her mouth. “I do not want this to be about duty. We were forced together, but I promise you, I can be a good husband.” He did not like the way his voice wavered, it made it impossible to deny his attraction to her.
A small, nervous, smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I think we have had a miscommunication. Perhaps, I can better articulate what I meant. It is my duty as your wife, but it is my choice as well. I was distant because I did not want to be in a marriage with a man that has two wives.”
His brow furrowed, and he wracked his brain for what she might be leading to, but he could not come up with an answer. “I do not follow.”
“You have two wives now. Myself and the Guild. I do not wish to be second. I want a family, Thomas. I want everything a marriage can offer, and perhaps, in time, a loving husband.”
She twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger, and he reached out to grab it, placing a kiss on the tip of her finger. “Is that all?” he asked with a chuckle. He couldn’t believe that the woman he desired might desire him as well.
Her hand slipped down his chest, and she gently traced lines up and down his shaft. His teeth jammed together, trying to control himself, even as she seductively touched him.
“That is all. You are handsome, Thomas. The moment I met you, I could not deny I found you pleasing to look at. But you also have a way about you, a commander’s touch almost. It was intriguing, and the more I found myself interested in you, the more I knew I needed to step away.” She averted her eyes, and when she raised her head once more, tears glimmered in their depths but did not fall. “I grew up in a household raised by a nursemaid. My mother died with my father out to sea on business, and then we were alone. I do not want that for my family. I do not want to want you, but I am afraid that I most certainly do.”
The words were a whispered, quiet admission, and Thomas wasn’t certain which emotional reaction was stronger, his desire to pick her up and cradle her against him, or his need to prove his ability to lead both a guild and family.
“I made a promise to you, Audrey. I cannot pretend that running the Guild will not mean late nights and long hours. I can promise that, when those hours are done, I will slip betwixt the covers and make love to you as if I have never left. If it would make things easier, we could take residence in the Guild, though my family always lived separately.”
Her eyes were frozen, locked in place on his as she leaned up and pressed her mouth against his. “I believe you, Thomas.” Her lips pressed against his a second time and she was the one to slide her tongue over his mouth and slip inside.
His senses roared and swirled as their tongues danced together. Audrey’s hands squeezed his forearms and tugged at the undergarment he wore, tugging the shirt up over his head. Their kiss broke only for as long as it took to remove the garment, before locking back together like a perfectly fitted puzzle piece. Thomas could feel the press of her pebbled nipples into his chest and ground his hips as her hand continued to move tantalizingly over his shaft.
She smiled into their kiss as his hip motion changed from a slow gyration to a rough bucking. His hands tangled in her hair and tugged her hard against him, daring her to ignore the passion she had stoked. Audrey did not shy away. Her hand dipped past the waistband of his bottoms and found his hard length, wrapping her hand around him before squeezing as she stroked.
“I hope this is all right,” she said breathlessly as she pulled away from their kiss.
Thomas used the moment to pull the cotton nightgown over her head, exposing her so fully to him that she went to cover her breasts and bent slightly to cover her womanhood.
“Do not, Audrey. I would like to see you, worship you, prove that I can be a husband and working man.” He pressed a kiss along the cream-colored column of her neck and let his light facial hair scrape across her shoulder. “And, you are doing it wonderfully.” He added with a grunt.
Trailing kisses down her shoulder, he brought a hand up and began to trace circles of his own around her nipple. Her cry of pleasure as his mouth suckeled over the other rosy peak had him aching to find release. He allowed his tongue to lave over the tightened skin until he could not handle her tormenting his member any longer.
In a quick swoop, he had her in his arms, laughing at her surprised squeal as he took her off her feet. As gently as he could, he laid her down on the sheets. He could see the nervous tension mixed with desire written on her face. He would not take her like that, no matter how badly his lust was riding him. He raked his fingers over her stomach, one hand, and then other, pulling at her knickers when he reached the top of them. Audrey lifted her hips at the same time she gave a breathy gasp, and he swore he saw stars.
“Keep making those sounds, and I am not going to last but a minute when I am finally deep inside of you.”
“Oh.”
The one small word pushed him over the brink, or perhaps it was the way her eyes shone up at him, he couldn’t be certain. His fingers danced delicately over her folds, relishing in the wetness that covered them. Audrey had not lied, she desired him. As his finger pushed into her core, he felt her body tense. Her hand released his prick, and he missed the contact but knew how rough losing their maidenhead was on women. He wanted her to remember nothing of the evening except their kisses and her pleasure. He would take the pain from her, that night and every other.
Leaning forwards, he dropped kisses everywhere—her collarbone, her breasts, her flat stomach and right in the apex of her legs, against the dark curls that were nestled there.
“I promise to be gentle,” he whispered into her ear before withdrawing his finger from her body. Pushing off the bed, he tugged at his trousers and stepped out of them as they fell down his legs.
His cock jutted proudly out, a stiff rod thanks to her cunning strokes. Starting at her ankles, he placed a kiss inside of one and the other. Up her body, he continued, dropping a kiss at her joints before placing one sinful one on her core. Thomas lifted his chest and reached betwixt them to take his shaft in his hand. Dragging the tip across her wetness was torture, but he wanted her to realize he was going to go slow, that he wouldn’t dream of hurting her.
All at once, he pushed his hips down and sunk into her with the smallest amount he could muster. His prick was shouting for him to take her, and his arms trembled as he propped himself up above her on the bed. He resumed sliding into her body, and when he was buried to the hilt, he did not move.
“Audrey, are you well?”
She was chewing her lower lip so hard it was devoid of all color, but her eyes
were not squeezed shut in pain.
“I believe so,” her words were panted, and it was like a kick to the balls as her hips began to rock. “I had no idea it would feel so wonderful.”
He laughed and slowly rocked his hips, back and forth, not trusting himself to be gentle enough if he were to withdraw and sink back into her heat. Over and over, their bodies glided together. The trembling in his arms grew with the pleasure wrapping around his entire body as he drew near his own release. With every movement, the band of pleasure seemed to grow tighter. Thomas saw nothing but Audrey’s green eyes as his release slammed through him.
His body jerked, and a grunt tore past his lips as his body released its seed into his wife. His hips continued to pump, not ready to let the pleasurable sensations go. When Audrey came, her shout rippled through the room as her body milked his shaft. Finally spent, he carefully slid out of her body and rose to get a wet cloth.
When he returned, she was laying sprawled out across the bed, a contented look on her face. She turned her head and smiled wide at him. The room was darker, but he could still see. Crossing the space, he made quick work of removing evidence of their lovemaking from her body, and slipped under the covers beside. She nuzzled her head against his chest, and he let out of a sigh. Everything had been as wonderful as he could have imagined bedding his wife for the first time would be.
“Are you certain you are all right?” he whispered into the darkness, the candle long since burned out.
“I admit, that was unexpected, rather unexpected really, but I promise you, I am fine. I am honored to be your wife, and perhaps, one day, you might show me how to work in the Guild with you.”
He chuckled. “Well, I shall have to learn how myself. It has only been two days after all.”
Five
Layel’s whole body ached. From the tip of his wings to the soles of his feet, he was in pain. The fighting amongst demons had grown so intense that the Pure Angels were running low on steam, which he secretly suspected was Seraphina’s goal. For almost a century, since she had taken the throne from Lucifer, things had been growing more and more troublesome by the year.
He couldn’t be certain, of course, if what had occurred was indeed her making. Demon attacks certainly weren’t her undertaking. What might have been tied to Seraphina were the countless species that almost appeared to be working together in an attempt to take down humans and Pure Angels alike. He’d never seen anything like it, just hours before, an attack had broken out with Stranglehold Demons aligning with Kappa Demons. It was terrifying, to say the least. Attacks being coordinated meant the demons were likely up to much more nefarious goals than simply prowling for their meals.
Then there had been the casting out of the lesser demons. Layel couldn’t remove the bad feelings associated with that incident from his mind. Seraphina had issued a decree that all lesser demons be thrown from Hell and forced to find homes topside amongst the humans. Lesser demons looked like humans, but they were still demons. Nightmare Demons, Incubuses, Succubuses and more roamed the streets, killing without discretion.
“And it just might be all your bloody fault,” he whispered to no one as he staggered down the abandoned street. If Seraphina were defintely responsible for all of it, he’d created her, and he’d failed too.
That close to sunrise, even the plastered sods and nightwalkers weren’t out and about. This was a blessing, as it allowed his brethren to work at full capacity to dispatch the demon threats. It also meant they could wander the streets for just a little while. Pure Angels, unlike lesser demons, did not look entirely human. Unless they fell, they couldn’t walk amongst mortals, and many of them desired the things mortals had. It was why so many fell.
Tension eased a hair as he rolled his neck. The cracking sound was almost deafening, and it actually left him feeling a little queasy.
“Layel, I think we need to depart. Our forces cannot withstand this much longer,” Izazal said from beside him.
“I fear you are correct. Take the others and leave. Heal and rest. Tomorrow will likely be no different than today.”
Concern flashed through Izazal’s eyes, his mouth parted, and then closed. Layel’s second gave a curt nod and spread his wings. “I take it you will be safe on your own?”
Layel couldn’t help but smile. Since the disastrous events a century before, he and Izazal had grown close. The pair was two of three that truly knew the circumstances of Seraphina’s fall, and it had bound them together in a sense, Muriel as well.
“I will be fine.”
Izazal’s eyes narrowed, as if he didn’t believe Layel, but he took to the sky quickly. Moments later, Layel heard his telepathic communication to the rest of the group. Sharing more blood with one another had unnerved Layel after watching Seraphina suffer. However, it had become a necessity if they were to be at their strongest and watch each other’s backs.
Sucking in a lungful of muggy London air, Layel began to walk the street alone. He wasn’t concerned that he would find something else. Rather, he only wanted the peace and quiet the early morning could bring. The candles were long burnt down, and since it was a city, there were no farmers rising early to see him. Certainly, the bread makers and paper deliverers would be taking to the streets soon, but he still had time to just relax. Something that was all too uncommon of an occurrence as of late.
Everything about Layel was weary. From his muscles to his mind, he wouldn’t say he was ready to give up and let Hell win, but he was truly tired of the constant battles. As he had feared, Seraphina wasn’t interested in abiding by the pact Lucifer had upheld. Her rule allowed the demons to come and go as they pleased, kill as they pleased.
His toe struck a loose cobblestone, and he snarled. Bending over to rub his toe, he felt a burning slice radiate through his wings. Feathers drifted to the ground as he howled. Someone had cut his wings. Not deep enough to cause him to fall, but enough to wound him.
“Who is there, show yourself.” The growl was low in his throat. He didn’t enjoy when demons surprised him, and whoever this was, had.
“There is no need for dramatics, come with us, and we will not wound you further,” a voice hissed, and a Stranglehold Demon stepped out of the shadows.
Layel’s fangs slipped out of his gums just as a second Stranglehold came up from behind him and grabbed onto his wings. Layel’s howl was as inhuman as he was. Pain seared through him as the demon crushed the battered feathers in his hands, what Stranglehold demons were exceptionally good at. His vision went black momentarily, and his knees hit onto the path. The pain was unbearable.
An arm wrapped around Layel’s throat, and he went still. Strangleholds could kill a creature in seconds if they had a way to squeeze, and Layel was in too much pain from the earlier fight and the wing clipping moments before to defend himself properly. Closing his eyes, he forced his rage to subside. He’d heard that Seraphina had two Strangleholds in her personal guard. If this was them, then he ought to let them take him to her. It was time to put an end to what he’d allow to happen so many years before.
“Whom do you work for?” The rage was still evident in his voice.
“Seraphina,” one of the demons rasped.
As he suspected then. The one holding him twisted the sliced feathers again, and he almost wretched at the pain.
“Then take me to her. I am not fighting.” The words were strangled sounding, not because of the arm around his throat, but because of the pain.
“Well, that was unexpected. Didn’t see that happening, did we, Dean?”
“Arial, bloody hell, now he knows who we are.”
Layel tucked the knowledge away for later. If he survived the meeting, he would make it his personal mission to start taking down Seraphina, piece by piece.
The surroundings changed before he could blink as he was flashed off the London Street and into Hell. Queasiness rippled through him as he realized that Seraphina had commanded enough power to flash other species of demons. With any luck, it
left her tired. He couldn’t even comprehend the drain it must have been to drag him down, he was conscious and a Pure Angel, it shouldn’t have even been possible.
“Bloody hell. I’ve done everything you’ve asked, Seraphina. It’s been ages. It was one bloody mistake!” a male demon shouted.
Layel’s eyes moved to the source and spotted a dark haired man, dressed impeccably. Lesser demon. Why is he down here? He should have been banished with the rest of them. Arial’s hand tightened around his neck, and Layel wheezed.
“Lucius, do shut up. It is rather unbecoming of a demon to be as whiny as you. If you are not careful, I will see to it that you are no longer the last living of your kind.” Seraphina’s velvety voice reached through the room. “Let him go.”
Layel looked up as the arm around his neck was removed. His eyes traveled past the demon and stared at Seraphina. She was as stunning as ever. Her long red hair dipped just below her waist and was still a red so deep, it looked like blood. Her icy colored eyes were not crazed, as they had been the last time he’d laid eyes on her. In fact, amusement played in them, and the smirk on her lips was not evil but amused. She sat regally on the throne, and when the demon, Lucius, walked past, she stood and began to walk down the staircase towards Layel.
“My, my. It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” Her hand trailed through his long hair.
Layel shuddered at the sensation of her touch. She felt the same as always, but he knew the evil that resided within her. Without a thought, he jerked his head away from her hand, and she frowned, her eyes turning black.
“Do not like my touch, Layel?” she practically purred as she made a motion for the two Stranglehold Demons to exit as the other demon had just done.
“How am I here, Seraphina?” He’d meant for the words to be little more than a growl, but they came out little more than a rasp from the assault on his throat.