“I won’t last,” Killian grunted as Maddox gripped harder, using his thumb along the pulsing vein on the underside of Killian’s cock. A drop of pre-cum escaped his slit, and Maddox inhaled deeply. Against Killian’s arse, the angel’s dick throbbed, hot and thick, and shite. He’d never been much for playing the bottom, but fuck if he didn’t want the angel inside of him.
“Let go, baby. Just…let go,” Maddox urged, and when he started kissing down Killian’s neck, the pleasure overtook him.
With a strangled moan, Killian did as his angel asked, and his seed painted the shower wall, coating Maddox’s hand, the scent mixing with the soap and filling the steamy air.
Fuck. Killian needed more, but as he collapsed against Maddox’s strong chest, his exhaustion caught up with him, and he slumped in the angel’s embrace.
“Shhh, Killian. Let me take care of you now.”
A RHYTHMIC POUNDING roused him from sleep, and Killian rolled over, the sheets whispering over his skin. He could sense his angel. Close by. Happy. Fulfilled.
Wrapping himself in his flannel robe, Killian trudged out to their kitchen. He could still smell Maddox all over him. The scent of their lovemaking. Of home.
“What are you doing, angel?” he asked as he leaned against the door jamb. Maddox brought an axe down onto a fat log, splitting it into two pieces.
“Keeping us warm,” Mad replied with a smile as he swiped a hand across his brow. His dark brown hair was damp, and the muscles of his back glistened from the hard work.
“I have all sorts of ways we can accomplish that particular task.” Killian loosened the belt of his robe to show Maddox his growing arousal.
“Stop that.” Maddox hefted the axe again, then looked over his shoulder to give Killian a wink. “At least until I’m done here.”
“We have enough firewood for the winter,” Killian said. “But it’s been hours since I had you. Come inside. I’ll draw a bath.”
“Give me ten minutes, love. I like this work. It feels...good.”
Killian couldn’t ignore the happiness in his angel’s voice. Every day, Maddox surprised him.
Jerking awake, Killian rolled over to find Maddox in the bed next to him. The angel had helped him wash his hair, wrapped him in a fluffy robe, and tucked him in. And now, he slept soundly, the bruises on his torso nearly gone, and his handsome face relaxed.
The dream had felt so real. The two of them, living together, being together. Like they were meant to find one another. Killian stared down at the brand on his chest. The angel wings were nearly complete, and when he touched them, they glowed with a subtle warmth. Wrapping his arms around Maddox, Killian closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
C H A P T E R T E N
MADDOX
A knock at the door made Maddox jump and his heart stick in his throat. The clock on the bedside table read a little after ten in the morning, and as he scrambled out of bed and shrugged into his robe, his stomach rumbled loudly. Checking the peep hole, he blew out a breath. Frank stood in the hall, holding several bags with Paul’s Menswear printed across them in big, golden letters.
“Here you go, son,” Frank said as he handed over the bags. “Everything you ordered. You need anything else?”
“Food,” Maddox said. “I can go out and get it, but I don’t know the area.”
“Nonsense.” Frank nodded towards Killian, tucked under the blankets. “Truth be told, you’re the only guests today. The only guests I’ve had all week. You want pastries? Something more substantial? You ever had a shrimp po’ boy?”
Maddox had no idea what that was, but he thought they needed more than just sweets. He offered Frank a smile. “No, sir. This is our first time in New Orleans.”
“Then if you can wait a little over an hour, I can hit up the best place for ‘em in the French Quarter.” After patting Maddox on the shoulder, Frank shut the door, and Mad sighed. Maybe he should rest. Curl up with Killian and let the witch know he wasn’t going anywhere.
Or… Retrieving Killian’s phone from the bathroom counter, he slipped the room key into his pocket and stepped out into the hall to call his brother. Sin would know what to do, and maybe…if he had a plan by the time Killian woke up, he’d be able to convince the witch to stay with him. For good.
“MAD, THANK FUCK,” Sin said as soon as he picked up the phone. “Don’t do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry. But I had…something important to take care of.” Maddox rested his back against the wall and sank down onto his ass. “I’m in trouble, Sinclair.”
“No shit. You’re in New Orleans. Are you going to see Mist tonight?”
“Probably. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Until Killian can—”
“Killian?” Sin’s voice rose slightly. “Mad? Who’s Killian?”
