Page 42 of Sinful Pride

Something like shame flickered in those gray depths.

“Yes…” The confirmation was barely a whisper, as if he didn’t say it loud enough, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the statement and the truth in it. “But even if there is something, I… we… it’s ruined,” Raphael said despondently. “Everything is ruined now.”

“If you truly do care about him enough to make it work, then maybe not everything is lost.”

The flicker of hope in Raphael’s eyes turned into confusion.

“Do you care about him?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He is singularly enchanting. And I can admit to myself, he not only captured my interest, but sustained it for a while. It bodes well for the prospect of a relationship.” I let the menacing rows of white teeth on my face spread in a grin. “Especially if there is someone else who can do all the lovey-dovey stuff and I can just focus on fucking his brains out.”

“You want… you really want for us to pursue him together? For real?” Raphael asked.

“I would like to try,” I said simply.

“Okay, yes. Yes! Let’s do that!” Raphael looked immensely relieved and ready to jump straight into action. “Let’s catch up to him, then. We should check his room at the Embassy first—”

“No.”

“No, what?” Raphael frowned.

“We are not going after him today.”

“Why not?” Raphael asked warily.

“Because as much as a relationship, a three-way one, no less, suddenly seems like a good idea, it may not seem to be one tomorrow, or in a week, or in a month, when another pretty young thing catches your eye, or I tire of beating the crap out of people to soothe my aggression and itch to instead take a whip in my hand and rip a pretty subs back open.”

“You want me to wait? Oh God, you do want me to wait. How long? How much time will prove I stand by my decision and won’t allow myself to…”

“Whore yourself around?” I supplied helpfully.

“…be distracted by other things,” Raphael continued, shooting me a stink eye. “How long will it take for you to be convinced of my, and your own, sincerity?”

“Three months,” I said. “At least three months. You are pretty much addicted to sex. If you can stay away from temptation for that long, I won’t consider you completely hopeless.”

“Same goes for you.” Raphael measured me with narrowed eyes. “I think you are the one more at risk of getting entangled with someone than I am.”

“We are in agreement, then.” I presented him with my hand. He gripped it firmly and shook, sealing the deal. “Let’s meet here again in three months’ time. Until then, let’s give Tirael space. It wouldn’t do to break his heart twice, when we are unsure if we can even give him what he wants.”

“You know, even if everything goes well with that part, it isn’t a guarantee that we won’t fuck it up at some later stage. I… I don’t even know how to do it anymore. How to date. How to be so close to someone. It will be hard,” Raphael ran his hand through his hair.

“Don’t you like a challenge? Don’t worry, Angel. I have a plan.”

Chapter 15

Raphael

Abstinence was hard. That became apparent to me just a few weeks into the agreement. I could have made those three months much easier by avoiding temptation, secluding myself in my room and pretending no shapely legs or kissable lips existed, but I wasn’t a coward. If this was going to be a test of my will, then it should be a proper one. So my itinerary didn’t change much. I attended my Archangel and Heavenly Healer duties, then switched to leisure time. Except now I went to Steel Velvet or human clubs, BDSM or not, only for the most basic level of companionship. Just to have fun.

In the past I took care not to create a legend of an immortal regular. I switched up every few years which clubs I attended. After all, it wouldn’t do for people to notice my lack of aging. Fortunately, the whole world was my oyster, so I could show up in Paris one day and Seoul the next.

Today, I found myself in a newly opened establishment in Warsaw. They had nice decor, and the music wasn’t so bad. I took to the dancefloor like usual, letting the low bass thrum through my body, my movements flowing to the rhythm. But the difference from my routine was that when I was propositioned, I said ‘no, thank you’. At first, saying so really pained me. I was high-strung after what happened with Tirael—a mix of guilt, nervousness, annoyance, impatience, and maybe a dose of yearning played first fiddle in my mind—and getting into bed with a willing partner could help settle at least some of those emotions. But I persisted, making friends instead of new lovers I would discard after a night.

Just before the three months were up, I was sitting at a table with three humans who adopted me into their little group and didn’t even bother to flirt with me anymore. They just slung their arms around my neck and sandwiched me between them in the booth; a casual intimacy that wasn’t related to sex.

It felt good.

My first epiphany of the day was that my escapades, while centered on sex, provided an important part in giving me the dose of contact I required and an outlet for caring for someone, especially if they allowed me to go all praise-dom on them. I was a very tactile person, and I had a suspicion I required a huge amount of those touches and closeness. More than normal humans, or demons, or angels did. That day, I realized I could supplement my routine with those non-sexual touches.