AllFreeNovel
Share Us
How had no one ever mentioned that our wings were another erogenous zone?
His hand on my chin brought my attention back to him. He angled my face so I met his gaze, his expression somewhere between harsh and smug.
“When I am the one making you come,” he murmured, “you’d better make sure it’s my name you call out.”
I blinked at him, my mind still kind of hazy from the onslaught of pleasure. “I’ll try to remember that.”
He stared at me for a moment, and I had the impression he warred with the decision to say something, but then he simply stroked his thumb over my lips and leaned in to kiss me. When he withdrew, his eyes held a hint of sadness that I couldn’t explain.
“Do try,” he said quietly. Stepping back, he handed me my tunic and armor that he’d summoned from the floor. “Time is up for today.”
I frowned as I took them from him. “But…what about you?” I pointedly looked at the prominent bulge in his pants. “Don’t you want to—I mean, I could?—”
“Not today.” His smile was warm and just a little bit wicked. “This was for you.” Leaning in, he kissed me on the cheek and then murmured in my ear, “When I said I’d take my time, I meant it. You deserve not to be rushed.”
My heart stuttered, effervescent happiness bubbling through my veins.
He walked backward a few paces, one corner of his mouth tipping up. “See you tomorrow. I’ll have another lesson for you.”
His wink did all sorts of naughty things to my insides.
CHAPTER 9
Azazel
Hours after Zoe had gone, I toweled off from my dip in the hot springs in the depths of the cave, my entire body still wired, still not willing to calm the fuck down. The impression of her skin against mine was branded onto me, the feeling of her coming apart under my touch making my brain go haywire. Every time I thought I had a handle on it and could think orderly thoughts again with my composure back in place, the fresh memory of her taste would hijack my senses, and I’d recall—in excruciating detail—how she’d shuddered against me as I ground into her.
How her fucking wings had felt under my fingers.
Those damn, beautiful, impossible wings, the most obvious sign of how much she’d changed. Looking at them felt like both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, they were a reminder of the humanity she’d lost, the identity that had been taken from her, all those memories that had been stolen by her transformation. And it filled me with sadness knowing that even once she would remember everything, the human Zoe I’d fallen in love with would forever be gone.
On the other hand, those wings were bloody magnificent. I’d never been one to indulge in wing kink, but with hers? I could think of a dozen ways they could play a prominent part in the bedroom.
And beyond that, they stood for the potential of her new identity, for the way she’d triumphed over death, for how—against all odds—she’d escaped a fate that would have truly taken her from me forever. Before, she’d been an anomaly as a human living in Hell, always branded as weak despite my best efforts to shield her with my power, but now she was on more equal footing with the rest of us.
Sure, she held a lower place in the hierarchy, and many angels—and demons—would still outrank her, but she was already far stronger than she’d been as a human, and she could grow into even more power over time. It was entirely possible she would one day end up in the higher echelons entirely due to her own efforts.
And I would support her every step of the way.
I was just pulling on my pants—one leg at a time, contrary to what I’d told her—when the memory of how she’d spelled out her flagrantly erotic fantasies seized my brain and caused me to stumble. My body grew tight, the hunger I’d just slaked moments ago roaring back to life.
Hell, when she’d said that, it had taken all of my considerable control not to tear her clothes off her right then and there and make all of those fantasies a reality.
When I’d bargained for an honest answer to a question, I could have asked about details as to why she’d thought I’d read her mind, in order to narrow down how that sliver of memory had surfaced. But in the end, I didn’t care about that. It was inconsequential, as long as more pieces of her memories rose up from the depths, hinting at a progressive loosening of whatever had kept them buried deep all those years.
No, it had been the question of what had put that lovely blush on her face after I’d mentioned that she could make it up to me. I knew her well enough to understand that her expression in that moment had indicated some rather unprofessional idea, considering that our meetings were officially held under the pretense of me training her.
And that had made all my demonic instincts sit up in attention, ready to lure and tempt and coax out the truth.
Before, I hadn’t been sure whether she’d be open to more direct advances from me. I, for my part, would have been ready to go, no questions asked, no hesitation. After eight years of waiting, I had a lot of pent-up need, and I would have all too gladly tumbled immediately into an intimate relationship with her, picking up right where we’d left off.
But for her, it was different. She didn’t know who I was, whereas I carried the awareness of who she was to me, who I used to be to her, like a festering wound across my heart. To her, I was a stranger, and I couldn’t expect her to fall headfirst into making out with a male she barely knew.
Which was why I’d been careful in my approach, trying not to push too hard for fear of scaring her off. I’d known she was attracted to me from that first meeting the other day, when I’d smelled her arousal as we’d sparred. It had been enough to force me to step back and take a break, lest my control slipped and I derailed my meticulously laid plans by showing her exactly how much I wanted her.
Her being physically drawn to me did not mean I could plow forward and assume she’d go along with it—not when her mind might still lag behind in that attraction, might still be hung up on the fact that, theoretically, I was a stranger. And especially not as long as she didn’t show clearer signs of admitting to that attraction.
She’d probably been convinced that it would be inappropriate if she told me she liked me as more than a fight instructor.
