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He didn’t answer. His gaze raked over my naked body. Then his hands cupped my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples and turning them into hard, throbbing buds.

“Fuck,” I whimpered.

“Tell me you want this, Miss Pendragon,” he said, unbuckling his belt for the second time and shucking his trousers off.

My pulse jumped. The wetness between my legs grew as I watched him wrap his palm around the length of his cock and stroke its length, riveted by the beads of moisture on the tip.

I nibbled my bottom lip. “I want this.” His eyes narrowed. “I want this, Professor,” I amended.

“Good,” he murmured, stepping toward me. His mouth brushed my jaw. “Now you’re going to hold on.” His hands pushed my legs apart and one finger slipped inside to thrust with a slow, excruciating rhythm as I moaned.

“Hold on?” I echoed, breathlessly, as my hands gripped his shoulders. “What does that mean?”

I pushed back against his hand, needing more—and saw his wings rising up behind him, twitching back and forth, as if restless for what happened next. “Blake,” I breathed, “your wings …”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I swallow, my pulse pounding. “No. But …” I was losing the ability to think clearly. His wings flexed again, and this time the movement didn’t seem accidental. “Professor Drakharrow, maybe we should go back inside.” But I didn’t really want to stop. Not when his hands were so warm on me. Not when we both had spent so long feeling trapped.

His mouth brushed mine, as his thumb stroked my clit. I grasped his shoulders, trying not to slide down onto the parapet in a puddle of lust. His voice was a low scrape against my lips. “Time to get us away from prying eyes, Miss Pendragon. We wouldn’t want to make the other students jealous, now, would we?”

My heart hammered. “Are you really going to pretend this is in any way practical? Safe?”

He pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the pile of our discarded clothing. “Practical, Miss Pendragon? I assure you, all of my classes are extremely practical. And when the hell have you ever chosen safe?”

Then his wings beat—just one powerful sweep, and the roof dropped away.

My stomach lurched. I heard myself making a sound that was half scream, half laugh. My fingers clawed at his shoulders. Blake held me tight, anchoring my body against his as we rose, the tower and the sea shrinking below us, the wind roaring in my ears. His wings caught the air as if they’d always belonged there, as if he’d always known exactly what to do. Like he’d been waiting for this his whole life. For all I knew, maybe he had.

I clung to him. “You’re insane, Professor Drakharrow,” I gasped. “You’re going to drop me, and I’m going to die.”

“Insane? Probably,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. “But you’re not going to fall. I’ve got you. I’ve never lost a student.”

“What if someone sees?” I gasped, feeling his cock, hard and throbbing between us. All I wanted was him inside me. Shame was falling away fast, just like the buildings down below and all the people who suddenly seemed to matter less and less with every passing second.

“What about them? Let them see you being claimed by me, Miss Pendragon,” he growled against my ear. “Do you think anyone else will ever fuck you like this? Fuck you up high, amid the very heavens themselves?”

His mouth found mine again, claiming me fiercely. There we were, suspended between sea and sky, disaster and desire. And Blake kissed me as if he could keep us from falling with sheer lust alone. His wings moved around us, steady and powerful, each beat a reminder of his true strength. Each beat a promise he was keeping. The fear in my chest loosened enough for me to breathe, and we disappeared up into the cloud cover, away from the school and any watching eyes, the night blurring around us. His arms clasped my hips, cradling me against him as his wings beat around us. Then his cock slid into me, and I was clenching around him, calling out his name, arching my body against his.

Every time. Every time I forgot how good he felt inside me.

I screamed, my voice lost to the wind, as I wrapped my legs around him, and he shifted himself between my thighs, thrusting hard, over and over. My teeth grazed his shoulder. My nails raked his skin as I rocked my hips against his.

“Maybe I am a monster, Miss Pendragon,” he whispered. “But if I am, I’m your fucking monster.”

His fangs sank back into my neck. And then I couldn’t say anything at all. He was flying and we were fucking, and in another moment we had moved out of the bounds of language entirely.

Back in Blake’s room later, we lay in a tangle of limbs on the bed. My head rested on his chest, as his hand played with my hair.

“My hair is a mess,” I moaned.

“I’ll wash it for you later,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “And brush it. And braid it.”

I laughed. “You know how to braid hair?”

“Of course. I had to braid Aenia’s. When my mother was gone, I—” He stopped.

“What happened?” I whispered. “Will you tell me now?”