Shem looked like a cat who had just caught himself a fat fish.
“What makes you think you deserve a seat up here with us?” Shem asked, his tone dark and full of mischief.
Gabriel’s eyes flashed, and his smirk widened. “If you don’t feel that I do, then I’m willing to do what is necessary to earn it.”
Shem groaned and dropped his head back, running his hand down the front of his face. “Fuck, Gabriel. You’re making me hard.”
I giggled and exchanged a look with Jezebel. Was this angelflirtingwith Shem? Gabriel’s grin widened just as a creamy soup manifested in the gleaming silver bowls that sat before us. The first course was a pumpkin soup, and I fingered the matte black spoon that sat next to the dish, marveling at how beautifully everything had come together. Shem really did know how to throw a party. I would give him that.
“Does that mean you’ll let me sit with you?” The angel asked, and Shem dropped his chin in his hand, leaning his elbow on the table.
“No. If I let you sit with me, I’ll end up fucking you in front of all these demons… which normally wouldn’t be a problem.” Shem winked. “But this is Lilith’s night. I don’t want to steal her thunder.” Shem’s eyes trailed up and down the angel’s body before he continued. “You look good in black, though. I suppose I could allow you to kneel at my feet. If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll reward you after the party.”
Gabriel looked unsure for a moment. “Kneel at your feet?” He glanced over his shoulder to the room full of immortals who had tucked into their first course. Many of them were watching this interaction as intently as Ramel, Jezebel, and I were. It was clear he wasn’t comfortable submitting to Shem in such a public setting.
The smile vanished from Shem’s face. “I thought you said you would be willing to do what was necessary to earn a place next to me?” Shem challenged, his expression flipping from playful to authoritarian in an instant. I had seen him pullthat same switch on me countless times. It was all fun and games with Shem until you disobeyed. “Get on your knees before I put you there.”
“He did this to himself, really,” Jezebel quipped, taking a large sip of wine. “He shouldn’t have come up here.”
Ramel reached around me and scooped up some soup, bringing the spoon to my lips. I opened for him and moaned. It wasdelicious.The soup had been seasoned with hazelnut and cloves.Fucking perfection.
“He wants Hazai to dominate him. He just doesn’t know how to ask for it yet,” Ramel said. I turned back to meet his gaze. He no longer looked bored, just amused.
“Is that how you felt about me? I never asked to be dominated, yet you just helped yourself.”
Ramel chuckled. “Youdowant to be dominated, deathtrap,” he insisted, tracing the tip of the now-empty spoon gently over my lips. “I can tell by how wet your pussy gets when I force you to obey.” I couldn’t hide my shiver, and his grin widened. “Now, be quiet and watch the show,” he said, gently turning my head back to face Gabriel. He was still hesitating when Art appeared. He looked annoyed.
“What are you doing up here? Get back to your assigned seat,” Art ordered, and Gabriel glared at him. Apparently, that was all the convincing he needed to finally heed Shem’s order. He stalked around the table and stood next to Shem. His expression was tight, and I could tell he was still fighting an internal battle. Shem leaned back in his seat, spreading his legs wide. He looked up at Gabriel with a cocky smile on his lips and raised an eyebrow.
“Well? I don’t have all night, Gabe. Get on your fucking knees, or get out of here.”
Art made a strangled sound of protest, and Gabe met his gaze before finally making his decision. He dropped to his knees on the floor next to Shem, staring directly at Art as he did so.
“Shemhazai has assigned me a new seat.” He smirked, and even I could hear the taunting challenge in his tone.
“Hmm, well, this just got a hell of a lot more interesting,” Jezebel quipped, idly stirring her soup as we watched their little drama unfold.
Shem reached out and ran his fingers through Gabriel’s thick hair, stroking him like he was a favored pet. Both Gabe’s and Art’s cheeks flushed, though I assumed for very different reasons.
“Such a good boy,” Shem purred, grinning down at Gabe. “You’ve earned a treat.” He plucked a grape off one of the cheese boards and held it up to the angel’s lips. “Open up,” he ordered. Gabriel’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, but he maintained eye contact with Art as he did what he was told, opening his mouth and accepting the grape Shem had offered.
“Shemhazai,” Art said, his expression tight. “May I have a word?”
Shem barely looked at him; he seemed too engrossed by the angel who had willingly knelt at his side. Running a thumb over the male’s lips, he nearly purred.
“I wonder what else you would do to earn the right to fill up this pretty mouth…” he murmured, though it sounded like he was speaking to himself more than Gabe.
“Shemhazai!” Art barked, finally getting Shem’s attention. The cat demon’s head snapped to face Art, and his expression was no longer playful; it was angry.
“Raise your voice to me again, Art, and see what fucking happens,” he snarled, his pupils turning to slits in the green light.
“Holy shit,” Jezebel said, and I felt my eyes widen.
“He’sactuallymad,” I murmured. I hadn’t ever seen Shemtrulymad before. The closest I had seen him to angry was at the forced wedding when I had accepted Art’s bullshit offer to help me escape.
The blood drained from Art’s face, and for a moment, I almost felt bad for him.
“Shemhazai, I just want?—”
