Page 23 of Angel's Enemy Omega

He spins Nur around and drags his pants down, cuffing his ankles with them. He opens his soft cheeks to find the source of his musk, the scent that threads the air every time Nur feeds on him and drives him absolutely crazy. Slick. Nur’s hole shines in the moonlight, twitching under his scrutiny.

A deep, hungry noise comes out of him. He flattens Nur to the tree, abruptly needing to dominate him.

“Your hole is so hungry,” he snarls.

“Stop posturing andfuckme,” Nur bites back.

Arsene flicks open the buttons of his pants. His blood pounds. He grabs Nur’s hair and drags his head back, taking deep gulps of scent that make him wild with desire. Nur only whines, his throat working. Arsene’s control shatters. He ruts his blood-heavy cock against the slippery crease of Nur’s ass. His body sings with relief. Finally, they’re skin to skin. Like they should have been from the start.

He’s your enemy, whispers the tiny, logical part of his brain.

Nur pushes back on him, eager noises dripping from his mouth the way slick drips from his hole, and Arsene stops giving a shit. Right now, they’re nothing but vergis and primus. And he intends totakehis vergis.

The head of his cock catches on the soft rim of the hole between Nur’s legs, seeking. Arsene grunts. His hips twitch forward, sliding the head through the puffy ring. It’s tender and easy, like he was meant to do it. Nur lets out a needy noise, his spine arching. The sound fills Arsene’s chest with lightness. He slides a hand under Nur’s stiff, curved cock to touch the place where they’re joined, to guide his shaft inside. Nur opens his legs to let him.

In and in he presses, surrounded by a pulsing, all-consuming heat. His world narrows to a single point. The bond is a hot white flame, opening him up even as he opens up his?—

Fuck.

Arsene slices the thought off, but it leaks through.

Mate.The word rings in his ears as his heavy balls sink home to rest against Nur’s ass. Nur’s fingers dig into his arm. But they’re not mates. He’s not here tomatethe hollow. He’s here to take back control.

He pulls his hips back and slams into Nur. Lightning sparks shoot up his spine as he re-enters that silky heat. He lets go, pounding hard and deep the way his instinct demands. Nur matches his every thrust.

Arsene finds his cock and manipulates it roughly, spreading generous precome down its length until Nur is howling, caught between two points of pleasure.

He drives them both to their peak, rutting furiously into Nur until his seed spills out of him and his emotions are wiped clean by the force of his climax. Nur rides back on Arsene’s cock as he comes, squeezing ferociously, his muscles massaging Arsene’stender length while he shivers and pants. The scent of his sweet slick and come catch in Arsene’s throat and coat his tongue.

A real primus would knot him. He would hold his mate upright while the knotting orgasms rippled through him, milking his primus’s cock. Then he’d lick every inch of him clean.

Arsene’s pleasure fades, leaving stale regret in its wake. He doesn’t have a knot, and instead his cock softens and slips from Nur’s hole. Nur isn’t his real mate. The thing tying them together isn’t a real bond. His fingers tighten on Nur’s bony hip.

“What are you doing to me?” he growls into Nur’s hair.

“I’m not doing anything.” Nur pulls away, and Arsene’s heart goes cold at the blank look in his eyes.

Nur draws his pants up and tries ineffectually to tie them back together. His mouth is drawn bitterly down, though his cheeks are still dark from exertion. Arsene feels empty looking at him.

“You’re not even a real vergis.”

“Shut up,” Nur snarls. “Shut up. Leave me. I’m sick of hearing you talk.”

Arsene leaves.

Chapter 14

NUR

The angel allowsNur to feed and no longer makes an argument of it. Three days of hunger leave him drained and on edge, but he can hold out knowing there will be certain relief.

What he hates most is that Arsene refuses to touch him after that one perfect, ravenous fuck. He sits like a stone while Nur drinks from him, expression cold even though the bond is like fire.

He doesn’tneedto be touched. He doesn’t need to be wanted, especially not by someone who despises him.

Maybe if he repeats it enough it’ll become true.

The plains rise, the air thins, and the wind turns dry and relentless. The caravan stumbles along, dragging the humans in its wake. The wagons lighten as supplies dwindle, and the atmosphere of the caravan thins. The mules seem happy eating sparse blue grama, but the humans and dogs suffer from meagre meals. Nur learns more about the feeding habits of mules and dogs than he ever knew about the Hollow King’s feast table. The beasts are better behaved than demons, at least.

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