You fisted my hair, tilting my head forward, as you licked the nape of my neck up to my hairline. I made no attempt to free myself from your immense weight, and you made no attempt to move. I could have died that way, with you crushing me and your cock still buried deep inside me.
“You’re mine again,” you rasped in my ear.
“Forever.”
I didn’t know what was coming for us, but I’d do it all over again.
43
Henri
At first you were shy to be nude in front of others, but after multiple interruptions, you’d grown quite used to being on display. Perhaps it even aroused you. It certainly excited me to see your naked body writhing beneath me on that vast white bed. And I didn’t mind the performance element as I reclaimed you for my own. My little hellcat, how you loved to provoke me.
You hardly registered the servants surrounding us while I mounted you. Somehow, they knew to stay back. Perhaps they could smell my aggression. I’d bitten you three times, and I wanted to bite you even more. Devour you. The cuts weren’t deep, but it did worry me with Azrael’s warning ringing through my mind. My bloodborn body wasn’t mild-mannered. It had been lying dormant for so long and now seemed desperate for gratification. My thirst for blood, and specifically your blood, concerned me.
And then there was my sexual appetite.
After our intense and extremely therapeutic lovemaking, I inspected you all over. Your lip was torn, and there were gashes on your neck, back, and chest. I’d need to be gentler with you now. My strength and body mass were much greater, not to mention the sharpness of my teeth.
“Did I hurt you badly?” I asked as you kneeled on the bed and stared at me with reverence.
“I needed it like that,” you said, and if I was being honest, I needed it too.
I wanted to make love to you again—tenderly this time—but I’d been too rough. You needed time to heal. Instead, I massaged you. Your body was so tense after having gone for months without my attention. You moaned and whimpered at my touch, grateful as a puppy. These hands had never caressed you before, and I wanted them well acquainted with the texture of your skin, the curvature of your muscles, and the way your flesh responded to my gentle kneading. There was no resistance from you as I slowly made my way from your graceful neck and shoulders to the bottoms of your callused feet.
Servants came and went but remained constant in their vigilance. I wanted them to see us engaged in intimate acts and report back to my mother. It meant I was compliant and willing to go along with her devious plan. The demon guarding our door had little concern that I might try to flee while I was being so completely satiated. From what I gathered, the general consensus was that I couldn’t possibly be conspiring against anyone with my phallus lodged so deeply in my lover’s exquisite ass.
In the large steaming bath, I washed you. Normally a servant’s job, I dismissed them from our immediate vicinity so that I could tend to you myself. I asked one to procure me a bottle of wine and another to fetch us clean clothing, which meant I only had a few minutes to convey my message to you.
As you stood in the water, I reached for your cock, which was plumping already. With you firmly in my grasp, I murmured, “I have something important to tell you, and you must pretend it’s only pillow talk between lovers.”
You leaned your head back against my shoulder and groaned, a small, seductive smile curving your lips. Your throat was beaded with water as your arms reached around my neck to draw me in closer, so that I had no choice but to whisper in your ear.
“I’m going to attempt to contact Azrael in dreams tonight while we sleep, and I need for you to make sure my absence goes unnoticed.”
“Yesss,” you groaned and attracted the attention of one of the passing servants who stared at you with unabashed lust. My mother’s influence, combined with whatever aphrodisiac was at play, meant the humans were sexually aroused all of the time.
“If they catch me, run away to Xavier’s apartment,” I continued. “There’s money and a fake passport where I keep my instruments. Get away as fast as you can and hide somewhere far away.”
“Faster,” you moaned. Your hand clasped around mine, squeezed, and forced me to pump your shaft roughly.
“I swear I’ll find you. Remember our safe word for when we are reunited. I love you, my darling.”
I turned your head with my free hand and claimed your mouth, signaling our business was over. Your cock tensed and pulsed as you ejaculated into the warm water. Your lust having been sated, you turned to where I sat on the edge of the tub. The hot heat of your mouth enveloped me as you wrested from me my third orgasm that day. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Lucian watching us, so I gripped your curls and yanked you closer to remind him that you were mine.
I regulatedour breathing and calmed your body so that anyone observing might think we’d fallen into a deep sleep. My arms were clasped around you, hugging you in the manner to which we were accustomed. The sheet was pulled loosely over our entangled bodies. I heard servants moving around the room, tidying up while also monitoring us. I was taking a risk, but I had to get a message to Azrael. I kissed your curls, said a silent prayer, and left our bodies still embraced, in a den of demons.
I searched my consciousness for a familiar setting, one that Azrael would easily recognize as a meeting place between us. Santiago’s cigar factory would have to do. Once I’d mapped a rough sketch of the interior to the best of my recollection, I called for Azrael in the dream realm.
“What is the meaning of this?” Azrael demanded. He appeared to me in Santiago’s body, and his frustration was apparent.
As concisely as possible, I relayed to him the events of the past two days—your trade for my bloodborn body, Lena’s homicidal soiree, and her plan to steal human souls only to have their identities assumed by her demonic subjects.
“A reaper in the service of the Grigori?” Azrael mused.
A traitor among Azrael’s servants of death was the least of my concerns.
“What of Orlando’s soul?”
