“Does that mean you don’t want me?”I ask.
Baezal rears back as if he’s been struck.
“Of course, I want you.From the moment I was freed from my stone prison, my thoughts have been filled only by your face, your scent.My desire for you is not why I protest.”
Pleasure skims soft fingertips down my spine.Goosebumps erupt all over my flesh in delight.I move closer towards him, sliding fully between his legs.My hands fall to his strong shoulders, and with a snarl, his hands find their home on my waist.
Nothing has ever felt more perfect than this.
“I’ve always been curious, but I’ve never been intrigued by something so completely as I am now.”My breasts nearly graze his chin as he looks up at me.“Shall I tell you what that is?”
“Please,” he snarls.
His claws press into my waist, the sharp pricks pressing through the fabric.With a smile, I rise up and claim a seat on his lap.The chair beneath us groans as I position myself.His seeking hardness rests against my wet flesh.Baezal hiss as my hands skim up his shoulders to tangle in his hair.
Softer than silk and hotter than fire, the dark strands shift between my fingers.
“Since the moment I entered this room, I’ve wondered what you taste like.”
With my heady confession still ringing in both our ears, I lean forward.My breasts pillow against his chest, and my eyes flutter shut.My lips meet his firm ones in a hard press.The touch is slight—the kiss is beyond chaste.The skirt of my gown hikes up around my hips.
Baezal’s loud groan vibrates his chest.The sound unlocks something within my heart—a deep well that’s been suppressed for years.It’s been unleashed now, and with it, a potent desire rushes through my veins.
I know, without a shadow of doubt, that nothing from this moment on will ever be the same.
4
BAEZAL
The first brush of her lips against mine renders me immobile.
I’m not sure what I’m meant to do.It is as if I’m a spectator looking down at the two of us from above.I see my stiff posture as this beautiful, wanton creature crawls into my lap.The neckline of her dress nearly bares her entire chest.Her skirts tuck up around her waist, exposing her smooth, pale calves.
Delicate hands burrow into my hair and hold me firm as she presses her supple lips against my own.My hands tremble along her waist.I’m scared to move—to even breathe too deeply—and break whatever spell is at work here.Surely it is magic, or at the very least a miracle, to have this angel in my lap.To feel the heat seeping from her core and teasing my raging cock to a painful state.
She gasps against me, the sound as sweet as she tastes.The touch of our lips is featherlight, and yet it unmakes me on the spot.I want to snarl and haul her against me.My fingers itch to shred the satin of her gown until she is naked and trembling before me.I want to lay claim to her for all the world to see—to know she is mine in every way.My primal urges reach a new peak as her lips shift against me once more, satisfaction humming in her throat.
My fingers dig into her waist, urging her closer as she continues our chaste kiss.I have to take care with my urges and not scare this wonderful, beautiful little human who’s crawled into my lap.Who’s mere presence nearly drives me to madness.Her breathy confessions of her sin had nearly made me spill in my pants.
Willow is unlike any Sister I’ve come across.Throughout my time serving the One True Faith, I had, of course, come across unhappy Sisters.Ones that would leave the True Faith never to be seen again.There is more than unhappiness in Willow’s plight.She is a bird trapped in a pious cage, forced to be something that is in direct contrast with her soul.
Desire burns brightly within her—I can taste it on her lips, feel it in the way she touches me.
That is why I must take care of her.Life as a Sister is pious—removed from the world at large, they are forged into innocent vessels who know only what the True Faith teaches them.They are taught very little of love and absolutely nothing of lust.For someone like Willow, it would be very easy to conflate the two.
She may desire me, as ridiculous as it sounds, but she doesn’t want me.Not at least in the way she believes she does.I am not a hero from her storybooks; I am a monster.One who will worship her for as long as I am allowed.I will give her pleasure and show her the heights her body can reach.Then she will learn to revel in another’s embrace—seek out the man she truly loves and begin her life with him once I free her.
That is the only future I can foresee.
Even the notion of her touching another like this makes red mist over my vision.My chest tightens, and I greedily suck down lungfuls of her lavender scent.My wings pull tight behind me, flapping sharply in agitation.Willow is blissfully unaware of my agony.She merely presses her lips more firmly against mine, nestling as close as she can.
Her dark lashes fan out atop her pink cheeks.Each shift of her hips brings my seed dangerously close to spilling.It’s been a century since I last touched another like this.None of those who shared a bed with me in the past made me feel like Willow does.My madness for her only worsens the longer she touches me.It will be a miracle if I can make it through this night with an ounce of my sanity still intact.
Small hands tug at my hair, and I meet her kiss with one of my own.Our lips dance together, remaining closed.My claws press harder into her sides, and she shivers.This fabric is barely a barrier, yet it must remain in place for now.She is the one who determines our pace and how much she wants from me.
With a sigh, Willow pulls back.Her chest rises and falls rapidly behind the top of her gown.What I wouldn’t give to taste one of her hard nipples.They are there, locked in their satin prison, begging me to free them.My hands remain still, even as Willow lowers her forehead to mine.Her deep brown eyes are brilliant, highlighted by the flush of her cheeks.
“I didn’t expect this,” she confesses.“Didn’t expect you to…”
