Page 6 of Sinful Pride

“Lovely night we are having,” I whispered, making him jump in his seat. “Isn’t that right, traitor?”

His non-alcoholic drink would spill all over if I hadn’t slammed my hand on the counter, preventing it from toppling. The gesture had the additional benefit of me caging the scared mouse against the bar.

“Only you would consider bullying someone flirting,” Raphael sneered, appearing a second after me.

“Fear,” I said, enjoying the taste of that word in my mouth. “Can be a precursor of arousal… or a companion to it. His heart is beating fast now, his adrenaline levels are high… our little lamb is ready for the taking now. I made your job so much easier. No need to thank me.”

With a smirk I danced away as Raphael only glared at me over the bridge of his nose. It was going to be fascinating to see him at work.

“Are you alright?” Raphael said when he approached Tirael.

“Raphael! Sir! No! I mean yes, I mean, no need to concern yourself with someone as low as me…”

“Huh, so you are not alright,” Raphael decided. “Let’s find a more secluded corner to let you take a breath, hmm?”

That angel had balls criticizing my methods while he perverted his profession as a healer into this, using the caring act as a tool in his seduction arsenal. Oh, sure, I am here only because I’m worried for your well being and not because I want to get into your pants, I mocked in my head. Raphael guided Tirael to the side and even touched his hand, cradling it gently between his palms as he spoke in hushed tones to the wide-eyed mouse.

I gave them the space to talk things out, as promised, but my stare burned holes in them, urging them to proceed to the fun part.

I wanted to eat that mouse alive.

Raphael

“Here we go. The pillows are really comfy, aren’t they? Hellion and Aurelius outdid themselves,” I said to Tirael, pulling him gently down to sit on the couch with me. “I’m sorry for Beelzebub; he is truly an acquired taste.”

“It’s a-alright, sir,” Tirael stuttered. “But what…”

As his voice trailed off I caught his hand between mine, squeezing gently, reassuringly.

“Just Raphael is fine,” I said, giving him a winning smile, hoping the flash of possessiveness didn’t show in my eyes.

I didn’t want him calling me sir because it was an address he used for all the angels and even demons he thought outranked him. It was just Tirael being subservient, and not in a way I craved. I wanted him to know what saying sir to me meant—that it was an acknowledgment of the dynamic between us, of me having control, of him allowing me the power over him and letting me use it to bring both of us bliss. I didn’t want him calling me sir yet. Not until he trusted me to pull him apart and put him back together.

“Ok, Raphael, si—,” he cut himself off, his cheeks flaring beautifully red as he nearly called me sir again, but stopped himself at the last second. “Raphael, what did sir Beelzebub mean when he said…” I tilted my head questioningly, curious which part of the bizarre experience he would choose to address. “What did he mean by saying ‘our little lamb’?”

My thumb smoothed a circle onto the back of his hand as I answered. “He meant we are both interested in you,” I said, choosing the blunt approach, as I feared the innuendo would fly over this poor, innocent soul’s head. Oh, I was aware what Tirael did to Zachariel, all Archangels and Archdemons knew, even if the rest of the public wasn’t aware of Tirael’s involvement, but having done one deed worthy of a demon didn’t mean that the man in front of me wasn’t a complete virgin.

I loved to guide inexperienced partners into the world of lust because I could help them set high expectations. After they knew how good it could be when done properly, with rules, and care, and safety, they never went back to the unpredictable and unfulfilling world of unstructured, unrestricted sex. They wanted more.

Often, they wanted me, but I wasn’t one to get tied down easily. This first stage of breaking someone in was the most fascinating part for me. I couldn’t imagine being as lovey-dovey as Zachariel and Hellion or Lucifer and Michael were, their happiness only increasing as their relationship progressed.

“Interested in me… Like, investigating me?” Tirael paled.

It seemed even being blunt wasn’t blunt enough. How could this pretty angel be unaware someone could want him? Was this low self-esteem, general anxiety, or his mind still being trapped in the sin he committed? Beelzebub certainly didn’t help with that when he so casually called Tirael a traitor. The blasted demon may treat the scent of fear as an aphrodisiac, but I didn’t enjoy seeing it on my partner’s face, especially before we had negotiated anything.

“Like: I think you are cute,” slowly, as to not spook him, I reached up to brush a stray length of hair behind Tirael’s ear.

“R-really?” he ducked his head, ruining my work as his silky black hair fell around his face, as if that would be enough to hide his blush.

“Really. This shyness of yours is endearing and I would love to see what other expressions you can make,” I said, placing gentle fingers under his chin and lifting his face until he was looking straight into my eyes. Like this, I could stare deep into his soul. Nothing could remain hidden — not the flash of apprehension and not the spark of lust. Of hope. Of just what I wanted to see.

“I’m offering you a bit of fun. We’re at a party, after all.”

Tirael swallowed, and I could feel the tension under my hand.

“And does that bit of fun include Beelzebub?” he asked, his brows drawn together.

I frowned, staring at the angel before me. Was this going to be a deal breaker? That would be a shame.

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