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Chapter 9

TATE

Holy shit, Luc tasted incredible.

Or should I say unholy shit.

I hadn’t realized how much of him had been masked by the tequila. Instead of devouring Luc’s mouth, I slowed things down. I explored, I tested, I tasted.

And he just… let me.

He tasted like sin, and felt even better. I closed the minuscule distance between us, molding myself to his side. His wing wrapped more snugly around me, softer and smoother than I ever expected. His hand let go of my chin, cupping around my neck and sliding back into my hair.

Aside from the brief contact of our tongues, he let me set the pace.

I was prepared this time, and fuck was I ready.

Heat coiled low in my belly, my cock quickly becoming interested in what we were doing. My breathing picked up, and my movements became frantic.

I tugged at Luc’s button-up, pulling it free of his pants so reverently that I felt a stitch rip. But when I put my hand on his belt buckle, he shot a hand down to stop me.

“Easy, baby,” he cooed, silencing my whine of protest with a tender kiss. “We’re in public”

Frankly, my dear, I didn’t give a damn. I was so hard it was painful. I wanted that damn demon naked, and I wanted it now.

“I want to do this right, Tate.”

Another whimper.

Could I be any more pathetic?

Luc pried my fingers away from his belt buckle one by one. His lips gently brushed my own, feathering across my cheek. He returned my hand to my own lap, but he did so in a way that made it feel like tender care, not a rejection.

We continued kissing under the trees, the lights above us twinkling like I imagined the stars would if we could see them. Luc’s hand returned to my neck and stayed there, his fingers scratching at my scalp. Every so often he’d give my hair a gentle tug, directing me one way or the other so he could use my mouth in any way he pleased.

That thought made me squirm, thinking about all the things he could possibly use my mouth for.

Then Luc broke off the kiss again, making me chase after him for more. Though instead of kissing me back, he whispered more hushed words against my mouth, every word vibrating my lips. “Make me a promise, Tate.”

“Anything.”

I don’t know what had come over me. Two months into my freshman year and I was blindly promising myself to the first guy who kissed me.

Fuck it.

Luc shifted, nudging me backward. Hesitant, I clenched the muscles in my stomach to keep my entire weight off of his wings. “I’ll hurt you.”

“I can take it.”

Our words were hushed, like someone was waiting around the corner to interrupt the private moment we were sharing.

I laid on my back, easing into Luke’s arms. His left curled under me, his right tracing tender shapes over my cheek and down my chest. Just when I thought he’d undo my belt, he trailed his finger back up my body. I shuddered, and his other wing closed around us, painting dirty pictures in my mind of the things those massive wings could hide.

“Let’s take this slow,” he began, as if he could read my mind. I tried not to whimper in protest–again. “Let me teach you how to do this the right way, not boozed up and unable to remember what happened tomorrow.”

He nuzzled into my neck, and I arched to expose my most sensitive skin for him to kiss.

My body trembled with the effort of holding myself back, my cock throbbing behind my zipper.