He gives me a soul-warming smile, his sky blue eyes flicking across my face. “Babymoon?”
I nod. “Can we? It can be close.” I place a hand over my belly. “I know we shouldn’t travel far.”
“Alright.” Quin glides his thumb across my cheek, sweeping up tears as he tries to clean up the mess Damon created. “I’ll plan something, darling. Give me a few days, okay?” He places a long kiss on my forehead. “It’ll all work out, Emery. I promise you.”
I hate promises. Even the pretty ones turn to filth.
I restmy head against the plush headboard, my gaze tracking Quinton as he prepares for bed. It’s time. It’s been long enough. I miss him. I miss his touch. I miss his lips, the way they seal little vows across my skin.
Oh, how badly I wish to trust his oaths.
I can’t… I can’t remain frozen, stuck in a time that no longer exists. Damon might not be here, he might not love me anymore, but Quin… Quinishere. He’s here and trying and so fucking patient. More patient than I deserve. Every ounce of his soul, of his mind, of his goddamn heart is pure. He’s a living angel, a sort of man that only saints could ever wish to love. I was never a saint. I was never pure. And yet he deemed me worthy.
Anxiety flutters inside my chest as my gaze follows him from one side of the room to the other, like a sniper whose target won’t stay still long enough to make the shot. It’s cruel to shoot an angel, to rip off its wings, to siphon its virtuous untainted energy, but I need it. So desperately, I need it. I can feel my blood start to blacken. I can feel anger and hurt and pain gearing up to collectively storm the newly crafted hopeful gates of my psyche.
We worked so hard to rebuild what was ruined, what was sullied and corrupt. If a bleeding angel is what it takes to prevent an uprising, then that’s the price I’ll pay. The price he’ll pay.
Quin climbs into bed, slipping under the covers. The heat from his half-naked body radiates into my skin, and I already sense the cleansing power of his presence.
He reaches for a book on his nightstand, placing it on his lap as he opens the pages. I study his eyes, the small, subtle movements as they glide across the sentences.
It’s time.
With a flick of my wrist, the book closes, the faint thud like a starter pistol firing, signaling the race has started. Quin turns his head, his knowing fiery eyes burrowing into mine as he sets the book off to the side.
“Is there something you need, darling?”
“Mhmm…” I nod, skin pebbling with repressed want and desire as I turn on my side, sidling closer to him. My fingers dance across his stomach, drawing tiny circles of intent on his skin. His abdomen clenches at my touch. “I think you know exactly what I want.”
With a restrained, hoarse voice, he whispers, “I can wait, Emery. If you’re doing this because…” His whole fucking body clenches as I dip a finger under the waistband of his boxer briefs. His eyes harden, mouth parted. “Be careful, little Emery. Lest you start something you are not keen on finishing.”
I take a long, desperate breath, my breasts expanding, nearly spilling from the low-cut silk nighty. “Don’t worry, Doctor. I have every intention of letting you…finish.”
His eyes darken, flicking down to my stiff, aching nipples. He licks his lips. “It’s been a while, darling. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.”
“Control,” I palm his thick, hard erection from under the thin, useless fabric, “is the last thing I want.”
“You’ve been given the green light?”
I squeeze his cock with expert pressure, and he expels a rough, gritty groan. “What do you think?”
Like a beast reanimated and woken from a forced hibernation, Quinton rolls on top of me, his hand diving in between my parting legs as I moan. His lips crash against mine, raw and depraved and so fucking eager.
“I plan on filling you with so much cum, darling,” he growls, swirling his magical finger inside my pussy, “that I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d be carrying two babies by the time the night is over.”
“Fuck,” I whimper, arching into his calculated ministrations.
With a guttural groan, Quin rips the hem of my nighty, surging forward and latching his lips on my sensitive nipples.
I writhe under the licks and flicks, thrusting my hips into his touch. “More… I want more.”
And he obeys. He always fucking obeys. Because angels grant wishes. They grant dreams. They have the ability to bring heaven down to earth, and with one fluid motion, so seamless and slick, Quin thrusts his throbbing, thick cock inside of me, and I can hear fucking angels singing.
“Christ,” he growls, rocking his hips back and forth.
Our skin slaps together like the bass line of a sinful song. I throw my head back, screaming, moaning, thanking the universe and all its stars that I don’t need to die to experience euphoria, that I don’t need to be permitted through golden gates to taste salvation, thatan angel’s blood is all it takes to cross into another plane.
“You’re so fucking perfect. You’re so fucking beautiful,” Quin breathes against my skin, and it’s like he’s blessing me, baptizing me, banishing all doubt and fear and sorrow. “I will love you forever. I will worship you for the rest of my days.” His hips quiver and clench as he thrusts deeper and deeper, as he carves out my insides and brands himself in every part of my body. “You take me so good, darling. You take me like such a good fucking girl. You’re an angel. A goddamn angel.”
