His Broken Angel (Heaven's Ballroom Book 2)

by Aiden Bates

  “Get yourself a room for the night,” he told her gently before we moved on. “You know, Mr. Bishop, having a trust fund doesn’t get you everywhere in life.”

  I laughed. “God, surely you’re not one of those money doesn’t buy happiness people.”

  “On the contrary, I think money buys a lot. But it leaves a lot to be desired, too. To quote the esteemed Notorious B.I.G.— ‘Mo money, mo problems’.”

  “Just not problems like, I don’t know. Keeping a roof over your head. Affording an education.”

  “Your parents never helped you out at all with college?”

  I shrugged. “They would’ve if they’d been able to. But no—my grandfathers lived pretty comfortably on coal miners’ salaries, but my Alpha dad got laid off not long after my youngest sister was born. He never realized he’d have to get an education beyond what they taught him in the mines, and before he lost his job, my Omega dad hadn’t needed to work at all.”

  “Christ. That’s rough.”

  “We did okay,” I assured him, although that wasn’t totally true. It had been a struggle, I knew. Making ends meet wasn’t the easiest thing to do with such a short rope. So many frayed ends from severed ties. “When I saw my chance to get my scholarship at NYU, I knew I had to jump on it, though. I’d been out of high school for long enough that it wasn’t easy, but the promise of a good job when I graduate means that I’ll be able to help out my family a lot.”

  “Noble of you.”

  “It’s not noble. It’s family.”

  Nathan stopped abruptly, turning me to face him beneath the glow of the street light.

  “Learn to take a compliment, Mr. Bishop,” he said softly, tugging my coat a little tighter around me. “You love your family enough to work your ass off for them. That’s one of the most admirable things a person can do.”

  Blood raced to my cheeks, flushing them red. The green of Nathan’s eyes was glittering over me, but I found it hard to meet them.

  “Your parents must’ve worked hard for you too,” I countered.

  He laughed. “My parents worked hard to impress all the other rich bastards in this city. I was more of an afterthought.”

  Slowly, I raised my gaze to his. There was the slightest hint of sadness in those glimmering greens of his.

  “I can’t imagine someone like you being anything other than the center of attention.” Now it was my turn to grab Nathan’s lapels—but instead of pulling them tighter across his chest, I used them to pull him closer to me.

  “Because of my sparkling wit or my irresistible charms?” he asked.

  I smiled. “A little of column A, a little of column B.”

  It wasn’t like Nathan to show his vulnerable side like this. It was so unlike him, in fact, that before tonight I hadn’t believed he’d had one at all. But seeing him like this now—that taste of heartache pulling the corners of his lips tight, the dash of hurt in his smile—drew me to him like metal to a magnet.

  “So you admit that I’m charming.” He was so close now, I could feel his breath against my lips.

  “Mr. Garnet,” I purred, moving in. “Learn to take a compliment.”

  His lips brushed against mine, light as fingernails running down a shivering spine. They were electric. Static cling, pulling me closer to him still. The first kiss was barely a kiss at all. The promise of a promise. The slightest offer of something more.

  But the second kiss, a moment later—to call it a kiss at all felt like a disservice. I crushed my lips to his, my mouth moving with a hunger I hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe not ever. I breathed him in, my tongue flicking between his lips as he exhaled. He smelled like the first rain of spring after a long winter, the kind that melted away all the snow and sent it rivering down the city street. Warm and wild.

  That kiss took me in. Pulled me under. I lost myself in how fucking good it felt—a touch of innocence that was quickly washed away by burning desire. Heat flooded into my chest and sank into my bones, pooled in my hips and pressed my body against his with a need so deep and dark and essential that it made my eyelashes flutter when I finally breathed out again.

  “Mr. Bishop.” He rested his forehead against mine, his nose tracing the curve of my cheekbone as our lips finally parted. “How forward of you.”

  “The fairies must have slipped me a little of their magic potion while we were watching the play,” I said with a little laugh.

  “The only magic potions those fairies were dealing in tonight were rum and cheap wine.”

  “Mm. Maybe I’m just warming up to those irresistible charms of yours, then.” I nuzzled him back, caressing the tip of his nose with mine. “Do you want to go back to your place, Mr. Garnet?”

  “Mm,” he echoed. “Mr. Bishop, I thought you’d never ask.”

  When we picked up our steps again, it felt like we had both quickened our pace. Nathan’s apartment was only a few blocks away, but the time that it took to get there stretched out to feel like hours. My fingers curled around his, squeezing between his joints and brushing the back of his palm with nervous energy. My heart was at a gallop, making every breath I took feel short and sharp.

  I wanted him. I wanted him and he knew it. Every part of me that had been fighting that wanting—a wanting that I’d felt from the start, been unable to shake no matter how hard I’d tried to rationalize my way out of it—was left there beneath the trees of Central Park.

  It was all I could do not to pull him against me again there in the street outside his building. We made it to the elevator. That was as much as I could take before I thrust my lips against his again.

  “Shh. Slower, cowboy,” he said with a laugh, pulling away after I sank my teeth into his lower lip and tugged it toward me.

  My fingertips were at his belt, teasing the leather. “I didn’t think you did slow.”

  “Normally, I don’t.” He laughed again, tension stiffening his shoulders and a raw look of barely contained desire bristling in his gaze. “But for you…I’ve been trying.”

  “Yeah, well…” The elevator dinged, doors sliding open behind us. I tugged him through by the loops of his slacks. “Stop trying. I can’t wait anymore.”

  “You’ve been waiting for me, Mr. Bishop?”

  He stuffed his hand into his pocket, keys jingling as he used his hips to press me against his apartment door.

  “Something like that,” I admitted, stealing another wet kiss.

  “Mm.” His grin turned animalistic as his key clicked in the lock. “Then I won’t hold back anymore.”

  We stumbled into his apartment, stripping off our coats as our lips moved against each other’s in perfect time. I couldn’t keep my hands off him—he was big and strong and powerful, and I had been waiting for him, I realized as he took my hand and pulled me toward his bedroom door. Not for him in particular, maybe—I couldn’t have known that someone like Nathan would have ever come into my life. But someone like him. Someone confident, a little arrogant, someone who didn’t mind breaking down my walls. Who could recognize that there were reasons I put up such a fight.

  Someone who felt so comfortable in his own skin, so undeniably perfect and unabashedly fucking into me, that somehow, he made me feel a little more comfortable in mine.

  “Bed,” he commanded a moment before shoving me onto it. His mattress was plush and broad. Easy to sink into.

  He poured himself on top of me, nipping at my neck and running his tongue along my collarbone. Fuck—before, he’d just been warm, but now he was burning hot. His hands tore away at my shirt and yanked at my belt, making quick work of my clothes like they were an inconvenience to him. Something annoying that was standing between him and something he wanted. I met that eagerness with a little of my own, ripping his shirt away and tossing it onto the floor.

  His chest moved against mine, hot chiseled flesh against hot chiseled flesh. He was hairy compared to my smoothness, sinking his teeth into my neck like some kind of ferocious beast intent on devouring me—and go
d, I wanted to be eaten. Tasted. Relished. Enjoyed.

  “Fuck,” he swore softly as I unclasped his belt. “Condom.”

  I whimpered pathetically as he rolled off me and dove for his nightstand, ransacking its drawer.

  “Problem?” I asked, feeling my cock throb beneath my boxers as I kicked off my shoes and the bundle of my slacks at my ankles.

  “Could say that,” he grunted, slamming the drawer shut. “I’m fresh out.”

  “Someone’s been busy,” I teased, pulling him back onto me. “Too many one-night stands of late, Mr. Garnet?”

  “Busy trying to get you into this fucking bed.” His brow was lowered in a fierce scowl. “Christ, I’m an idiot, Damon. I should’ve thought…”

  “No,” I said, pressing little kisses to the firmness of his jawline. “No, it’s all right.”

  “I could always blow you…” he offered.

  I shook my head, reaching down and freeing the button from his slacks.

  “I’ll get the morning-after pill tomorrow.” I cooed against his neck. “I want you, Nathan. I want you tonight.”

  He hovered over me, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You sure about that, Damon?”

  “I’m sure.” I grinned. “Take me, Mr. Garnet.”

  He matched my grin, tugging his pants down to his thighs. “Well then—as the gentleman likes.”

  11

  Nathan

  Fucking without a condom. When was the last time I’d done that?

  Never, I realized as I trailed kisses down the warm, flat expanse of Damon’s abs. My Alpha father hadn’t been around enough to teach me much as I tore through my wild teenage years, but he’d taught me not to take an Omega without wrapping up first.

  “Get him pregnant and he’ll take you for everything you’ve got,” he’d told me, making me wonder for far from the first time how he and my Omega father had ended up together. He’d teed off on the green that he’d had built on the Garnet estate’s grounds, sending a golf ball flying off into the early morning while I carried his clubs. “Get a disease and you’ll never trust another Omega ever again.”

  I shoved the memory from my mind and distracted myself with Damon’s hips. Damon was young and strong, healthy and honest. The only thing I was going to catch from a body this perfect was a hard-on—mine was already throbbing almost painfully against my boxers. As for pregnancy—he’d said so himself. Morning-after pill at first light. I’d give him the money to cover it. Modern medicine had made pregnancy scares a thing of the past.

  But then another thought hit me—would it be so bad, becoming a father? With an Omega like Damon, I thought maybe not. He was a sweetheart through and through. Clever and kind. He’d make a good dad—and dammit, if we were in that position, I’d sure as hell try to be a good father myself.

  “God, that feels good,” Damon moaned as I traced the waistband of his boxers with my tongue. “Fuck—Nathan, fuck.”

  With such dirty words coming from Damon’s mouth and all my blood flowing to the lower of my heads, it was hard to keep trying to rationalize what we were about to do. I wanted it. He wanted it. Morning-after pill first thing tomorrow.

  The rest of my thoughts and worries slipped away as I tugged his boxers down with my teeth, revealing a hard, thick cock dripping with precum and ready for my mouth.

  After that, it was difficult to think about anything. Anything other than him.

  “Fuck, you’re thick,” I sighed in awe, sliding his boxers down his thighs.

  “Too much for you, Mr. Garnet?”

  I grinned up at him wolfishly. “Not at all, Mr. Bishop. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got a pretty big mouth.”

  A mouth that was starving for him, too. I ran the tip of my nose up and down his length, tracing the veins and breathing him in. God, he smelled divine—sweat and musk, the slightest salt of his precum trembling at the tip. I stuck my tongue out, lapping it up like it was water from the fountain of youth and I was Juan fucking Ponce de Leon.

  I moaned at the taste of him—salty, sure, but sweet, too. It only made me want more of him. Pinning Damon’s hips to the mattress, I took it—his cock into my hot, wet mouth, sucking and slurping at him like a man unhinged.

  “Nathan—oh, God, Nate!”

  That’s right, Damon. Say my fucking name. I swallowed his cock down my throat, taking him in long, hard strokes. I wasn’t Mr. Garnet anymore. Not if my cock-sucking skills were as good as I suspected they were. That silly formality dropped as I lowered my lips to the base of Damon’s cock, burying my face in the smooth-shaven skin of his pelvis. My throat tightened around him eagerly as my tongue struck out, lapping at his balls while I wolfed down his dick.

  “Nathan—Nate—”

  I pulled up, grinning as a string of saliva connected his tip to my mouth, then plunged down again. I was working faster now. Harder. I needed to feel him tensing beneath me, feel his body pumping so much blood to his cock that he was stiff as a Roman column while I sucked every last drop of cum from his tight, heavy balls.

  “Nate! Oh, god, Nate!”

  And then, there it was. His cock, twitching madly between my lips. His seed, gushing out of the tip and flooding my mouth to the brim.

  Of all the sights and sounds that I’d seen in my life—the roar of Wall Street as the markets opened for the day, the lights of New York as the plane flew in, engines thrumming as it made its descent—they were only half as wondrous as the sight and sound of Damon coming for me. It was like a tsunami wave had crashed down on top of me, carried me off and spun me in the brine until I didn’t know up from his down. Like I’d leapt onto a moving train and suddenly, I had no choice but to hold on for dear life. It was something bold and full of might. Something sacrosanct, like kneeling at the altar of God himself.

  It left me breathless. Left me awed.

  Then I swallowed, and I felt it all over again.

  “Nathan,” Damon moaned, whimpering between breaths, “Nathan, fuck me. Fuck me now.”

  I’d thought that hearing Damon Bishop come for me was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard—but then I heard my name from his mouth, begging me to take him, and just like that, he proved me wrong.

  I was all his then. His hand curling through my hair, pulling me up to his mouth for a kiss. His lips against mine, forming my name, his taste on my tongue—it was a holier thing than any Eucharist wine, and if that was blasphemy, well, I’d never been a very good Christian anyway.

  I took him beneath me, turned him belly down on the bed. My cock fell heavy against his back as I tore off my boxers. I let it rest there for a moment, letting him feel how deep inside him I’d be if he was sure he wanted me to take him.

  “Oh, fuck. Nate—please—” he moaned.

  It was all the go-ahead I needed. I took his hair in my fist, pulling his head back like some kind of barbarian as I mounted my prize. Slipping two fingers into my mouth, I coated them with my saliva and the remnants of his cum, then pressed them against the tightness of his hole.

  So fucking hot. Like playing with a loosed flame. His ass resisted me for a second only; by the next, it had widened, slick with his honey, taking them in. I stroked his prostate with them, edging him toward another orgasm of a different kind. His hips thrashed as I did it, bucking wildly with pleasure, but I wasn’t going to let him get away from me—and judging by the way he was moaning, he didn’t want me to, either.

  When he was close, all tensed up and panting for relief, I withdrew my fingers, sucking them into my mouth to taste how wet he was for me as I replaced them with the tip of my cock. That same resistance came again two-fold. I was just as thick as he was, and even longer. I’d have to stretch him if I wanted to fit. Mold him to the shape of me, over and over again until Damon’s ass was perfectly fitted to the size of my hot, throbbing cock thrusting inside.

  It took a thrust, then another. Then, something clicked; the head of my cock slipped inside him, and before he could tighten again, I claimed even more of
his ass with my length.

  “Oh—oh, Nate!”

  My hands curled around his thighs, my fingers still slick with him, holding tight as his legs shook. My hips thrust against him, slow at first then building to something feverish and desperate, coaxing another orgasm from his perfect body as I pounded my way to my own. Every thrust, every inch deeper I delved into his heat, was a wave, and I rode it out with him until it crashed on the shore.

  “Nate…fuck, Nate, I’m going to come!”

  “Come with me then.” I dipped my lips to his neck, pressing insistent kisses against the base of his spine. The muscles there—trapezius, he’d called one. Spinalis—were trembling. His whole fucking body was trembling, so overloaded with sensation and so close to release that I could feel it all the way down his torso to the way his ass tightened around my cock at the base. “Come with me, Damon! Come!”

  My breath hitched in my chest as I felt him, sudden and sharp and hard. My whole body was washed in heat, sweat dripping down my temples and splashing down onto his back. I released inside him, pumping and snarling as my cum rushed to coat his inner walls, and he throbbed around me, tightening and tightening as his ass swallowed up every drop of it, drawing it deeper and deeper within.

  After, there was no sound but the heaviness of our breathing. Hard and fast and labored as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him up until his back was flush with my chest. I rubbed him down, my cock still twitching incessantly inside him like it wasn’t ready to be done with him yet. My lips claimed the thin, sensitive skin over his jugular; I took his pulse with my tongue, relishing the way it raced as I lapped the sweat from his skin.

  “God,” he panted. “God…God.”

  I laughed, nipping at his neck. “Is that what you’re calling me now?”

  “Mm. Maybe so.”

  “I’ll be your god then.” I smiled against his skin. “You can worship at my altar any time.”