I flip over onto my back so quickly my head spins, and then, as if I haven’t already humiliated myself enough, I spread my legs wide and hold my thighs open for him. He looks at me with hungry eyes, his gaze focused on my cock, which is bright red and engorged. I feel like I’m going to go out of my mind if he doesn’t do something soon, and as if he can hear my thoughts, he grabs the lube once more and gathers some on his fingers.
“Such a good boy when you want something from me, aren’t you?” He grins, and his eyes light up in a way I’ve never seen from him before. It makes my heart skip several beats, and I gulp at the feeling. It’s one thing to want him for this, and it’s something else entirely to want him for more. I can’t do that. I won’t. “Touch yourself, Elijah.”
I sigh in relief and wrap a hand around my cock, jerking slowly as I watch him. My lids are hooded, heavy, and I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. He shakes his head, smirking.
“That’s not what I meant.” He tuts, “I want you to suck on your fingers and stuff them in your ass.”
I shiver, bringing my fingers to my lips and sucking on them. He nods slowly, and I drag my hand down my torso, watching as he stares in fascination. I reach my entrance, and then, hesitantly, I push past the ring of muscle trying to keep me out. I’m already open, my hole willing, and it doesn’t take much resistance to stuff myself full. Pumping my fingers in and out,my cock jerks when I rub over my prostate, and my back bows off the bed.
I’m panting now, breathing hard. “I need you,” I moan, my voice raspy, and Azriel swallows hard, cock standing at full mast. “Please, Azriel, come here.”
Azriel crawls toward me and settles between my legs, holding them up while I pump my fingers in and out of my hole, and I let out a garbled sound that I don’t even recognize when he wraps his hand around my cock and jerks it for me.
“You prayed to be filled,” Azriel whispers sinfully, pressing a finger to my entrance right next to my other two. He pushes in, directing my digits toward my prostate, and the feeling of fullness in my ass is propelling me toward my orgasm. “Shall I answer?”
“P-please,” I groan. “I’m begging you.Please. I need your cock.”
“Not yet, Little Lamb,” Azriel says, and my eyes fill with tears. “You will ask properly.”
“Give me your cock, Azriel,” I growl, startling myself, and he chuckles. He withdraws his finger from inside of me, and I get up on my knees, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him down onto the bed until his back hits the mattress. I straddle him, gripping his chest with my fingers and squeezing. He’s thick, muscular, and doesn’t even flinch. I know I’m being rough, but he doesn’t seem phased in the slightest. “I want it.”
“You want it that bad, Elijah?” he asks. “So turn around and suck it. Let me have that pretty ass while you choke on me.”
I whimper, and despite not feeling confident, I do as I’m told. His cock is huge and thick as I grab it in my fist and hold it up to my mouth. A bead of precum sits at the slit, and I lick it gingerly. Azriel’s hips buck, and he thrusts into my fist.
“Do you need a demonstration?” His voice is soft but hoarse. “I’ll go first.”
Azriel grabs my cock, and the next thing I know, it’s in his mouth. The velvety softness of his lips engulfs me, the warmth and wetness of his tongue as it twirls around my tip making me cry out. He grabs my hips and controls the pace, not sucking, instead he’s making me thrust into his mouth. I can feel the back of his throat contracting as he chokes, and when he lets go of my hips, I slow down my thrusts. His fingers prod at my entrance once more, and when he fills me, curling his digits deep inside of me, I almost scream. I have to swallow his cock down to shut up, yet I’m still a whimpering mess even with a cock all the way in the back of my throat.
I choke and gag, pulling back, but every time I do, he hits my prostate with his fingers, and I go down on him all the way to keep myself from screaming. I’m close already, practically humping his face as I get closer to my climax, and he begins to moan with my cock in his mouth.
Saliva drips down the sides of my mouth and down his balls as I suck him down and choke on him, and I use it to coat my fingers and move them down to his hole. I rub it in slow circles, but just before I breach him, he begins to shake and starts to come in my mouth. The sounds he’s letting out vibrate my balls, and I groan loudly as I feel my orgasm tackle me and hold me under. He’s still coming and coming and coming. And I am too. We can’t stop. Why is it dragging on and on?
It feelssodamn good.
Azriel withdraws his fingers slowly, giving me time to adjust, and I let him slip from between my lips. My throat feels raw, and I grimace as I swallow once more, tasting his cum. But instead of getting up, I pull out of his mouth and lie my head on his thigh, putting my weight on him once more.
And I just…close my eyes.
After a while, I forget about everything. He doesn’t move, and when my world goes black, he lets me sleep on him. It’s onlya few hours later—when it’s still dark—that I realize that he’s gone. And then it hits me…
I don’t want to be without him anymore.
The chapel is empty as I pace back and forth in the shadows, considering going to Elijah’s room again, but realizing I need to calm down before I do. I’m angry. Well, that is an understatement. Rage is simmering in my blood, and if I see him, I know I’m going to demand answers. Watching him and his friend be all over each other in the chapel this morning is making me come undone. I hate that Micah had his hands all over him.
I stop and stare at the spot where he had been sitting with his friend Micah just hours ago, speaking in hushed whispers. I saw the way they looked at each other, and fuck, something possessive threatened to take over and yank Elijah away from the man. But I didn’t. Somehow, I stayed hidden, always in the shadows, forever separated from his life until nighttime when he gives himself over to me. The only time he lets me—in the dark, where no one will know.
He’s willing to be seen in the light with Micah though, which makes something ugly crawl inside my chest. The way he touched Elijah’s wrist and said his name as if it meant somethingholy haunts me. Just remembering it is making me shake with rage. I was jealous, Iamjealous.
Mine.
Elijah is fuckingmine.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear—Elijah is walking toward the chapel. He hesitates at the threshold before walking toward the altar, the candles burning low, lighting his path. He’s as quiet as a mouse, clearly not wanting to be discovered, and my nostrils flare when his steps hurry even more. He stops in front of the altar and grabs an unlit candle, placing it in front of him and grabbing matches to light it. Once the flame is lit, he takes a step back and bows his head.
Elijah exhales shakily, loudly, as if bothered by something. Maybe he’s remembering something himself—something worth praying about. Something making him beg for forgiveness. Maybe it’s about me, or maybe it’s about Micah. Either way, it pisses me off even more.
Anger propels me forward, and I make sure to tuck my wings in, since I’m no longer in my human form, as I walk down the aisle from behind him and stop a few feet away. He doesn’t notice me, his head still bowed, whispers coming from his lips. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but it sounds like he’s begging his God for something. Absolution, probably. Doesn’t he know he won’t get it? His God isn’t kind or understanding, and yet he’s worshipped anyway.
