Page 42 of To Tame An Angel

“Do it again,” he said against my hair. I thought he meant to ride him, but his next words stunned me. “The heated pain you did when you caned me.”

I realized he meant the pain-memory. My pussy contracted around his cock at the thought of it. Of watching his face somersault between agony and ecstasy. Of knowing that I caused it. That all the pleasure and pain he’d experienced came from my actions. I panted, feeling the buildup of my pleasure as I rode him again. He laid back down and I placed my hands on his chest. Now I could bounce up and down and have a spectacular view of his face. I wanted to see his face so badly.

His fingers bruised into my hips as he desperately clutched me. His throat was a work of art, veined and taunt.

“Please, I’m so close -” Serrated words come from him. “Do it now, please–”

I took his hand and press it against my clit, making his eyes widen.

“Here, right there–Oh gods!” I threw my head back and his finger circled and rubbed at my clit. His eyes were glassy with need and wonder.

I scratched his arms, trying to take a piece of him under my nails as I fell over the edge. His fingers were relentless, and I was barely moving, just thrusting into his hand.

I felt the heat enter my belly as I called forth the magic. I told the magic to make him remember, intensify it, make him recall each delicious slap of his ass, make him remember my finger inside of him, opening him up. I told the magic to sharpen the pain and the pleasure.

I placed my hands on his thighs, and the heat seeped from my fingers.

“Ahhh!” He yelled, eyes closed, mouth opened, sharp grimace.

The magic worked its wonder. At the sight of him being wrenched from each stimulating memory, my cunt contracted tightly as I came with a scream. He spurted into me in sharp, hard upward thrusts of his powerful hips.

I screamed his name as we both spent ourselves and I landed on his chest. The magic and him have spent me and I could hardly move. He was shivering but still held me, pulling me over him as he slid out of me with a wet pop. I felt so empty that I had to wrap myself around him. I felt his lips against my hair as he smelled me without shame.

“You fucking witch,” he said with little malice, and I curled my fingers into his chest.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TANNOR

Lying in bed with Nalla snoring softly into my chest, sleep escaped me. Her fingers grasped my waist, and her grip was still tight, like she was afraid I would run away. I buried my hands in her hair and held her close. I couldn’t run away if I wanted to. Not after so much. Not when the only place I’d ever felt peace was in this room, in her arms, submitting myself fully to her whims and desires. For so many years, I planned to escape, to kill whatever woman bought me. Never in those years did I think it would be like this. Had I known, I would’ve rushed towards it with wide, opened arms.

Nalla didn’t know, but the pain in my back intensified and I realized what it was. My wings were sprouting and there was little I can do to stop them. Not while I stayed with her. I detect a colossal clock hanging over our existence, its continuous ticking serving as a warning sign. When at last the time came, I would have to leave her, even if she wished to protect me. A man with sprouted wings faced immediate death. I don’t want her to have to watch as they kill me. She would spend herself using her magic to save me and just the thought of that happening burned fury in my belly. My life was born to end quickly. I’d known that. But not hers. I wanted her to keep on living with the hope of something soft and comforting, like what we were creating now. I wanted her to play her card games and inspect her oil bottles. Even if it wasn’t with me. Even if I was long gone.

I stared at the small box in the room’s corner, the one she hadn’t touched since the night she dragged me back from the forest. It was her brand, unique to her, meant to sear my skin. What she didn’t know was she was already seared into me. I was laced with her brand. Each inch of me was marked from the inside out. I recalled how she spoke about it that night, how she was drenched in disappointment that she wouldn’t be able to brand me.

“It’s supposed to be a bonding experience. A tender moment where you become mine and I provide you pleasure for accepting me. Right now, you hate me. If I brand you now… it would be soiled.”

How I’d scoffed at her words, thinking her stupid. Now I would do it. I’d let her do it because I knew it meant something to her. She’d looked forward to it, and I rebuffed her. I was no longer afraid of the pain; she’d shown pain could be pleasurable. I was, however, afraid of what it would mean. That a piece of my skin would forever belong to her, even if I left her. Even if I took to the skies simply to save us both.

Nalla tensed and shot up with a scream.

I startled and grasped her arms, but a bolt of electricity shot from her, and I fell back, stunned. She yanked at her hair, her breath was at her throat, and I realized she was trapped in a dream. A low moan erupted from her mouth, and she sobbed. My heart lurched at seeing her this way.

“Tannor!”

Pushing past the sharpness of the electricity she was sending, I pulled her into my arms. It felt like needles digging into my skin, but still I held her.

“I’m here, I’m fine, it’s a dream,” I said against her hair.

She woke, her magic zapped, and she cried incoherently. She looked at me and grasped me in desperation. Not knowing what else to do, I rocked her, holding her close.

“It’s alright, I’m here,” I continued, kissing her face as she whimpered into my neck.

“It was so real,” she shivered a whisper.

I caressed her neck, and the intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on me. The incessant pain in my back sharpened.

“They were torturing you,” she whispered and pulled back to stare at me. “I was trapped. I couldn’t help you, but I could hear you screaming my name.”

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