Page 51 of To Tame An Angel

I felt nothing–wait. Shit. My breath hitched as she moved my ball sack out of the way and my cock twitched.

“No play today, Tannor. Don’t get excited,” she said coyly.

I chuckled. When she said it that way, it didn’t help at all. I feel her seek my hole, which is admittedly tender. She softly lathered the soothing ointment. Our eyes met as she slowly inserted a finger back into me. Why did she do all of this? There’s a soft intimacy that lives in this moment. Something that only the two of us know and understand. Like mending after a cloth is ripped.

When she’s done, she pressed her lips against my knee. I couldn’t help myself as I reached for her hair and caress it.

“Play is play and we do what we do in play. But I wouldn’t hurt you outside of the play. I want… something deep.” She capped the ointment and put it back into box. “And real. Like this. Soft and sweet.”

Nalla offered me so much that I feel like I brought nothing. Like I’ve arrived in her home with empty arms. I shifted and beckoned her to me. Willingly, she slid into my embrace, caressing my stomach as I kissed her temple. I thought back to her father, to the man not so different from me. Who watched his woman birth his children and could only love them in closed rooms. My stomach soured.

“What happened to him? To your father?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I think… I think he sprouted his wings. I think they killed him,” she whispered.

My grip tightened on her. Yes. I fully understood this man from long ago. Better him than his girls.

“It’s why she’s so cruel to her other angels,” she admitted with great shame. “None of them are him.”

I swallowed as I stared at the ceiling. The pain in my back was continuous, my wings were desperate to release. There would be no hiding them, and their knock against my bones felt like the ticking of a clock.

“Aren’t you afraid that’ll happen to me?” I asked, close to confessing what I was experiencing.

“You don’t like me very much, Tannor. Wings only sprout for unconditional love,” she said and pushed back my hair.

The act was so normal, so mundane, that I found myself nuzzling her hand. “You make it very hard to dislike you. With your little kit and your sweet kisses.”

She smiled naughtily. “And my cane.”

“I hate the cane,” I lied. “But I like how you fret over my skin and how you kiss it and tend to me. I like that quite a lot.” The truth.

Her smile was so wide and tinging on innocence that I feel all warm and soft, like I was light without weight.

“I like it a lot, too.” Her fingers lingered on my hand, tracing the gauze on my palm. “I’ve not branded you. They’ll inspect you when this is over.”

I understood her words without her saying much. I would have to be paraded to prove that I was tamed. Prove that I was devoted to her, her loyal slave. And though the thought of worshiping at her feet while it was the two of us was incredibly arousing, to showcase it to others filled me with dread. She noticed my hesitation and her arms tightened around me.

“I won’t do it until you’re ready,” she blurted.

“Ready to have my skin burned? Can’t wait,” I said waspily.

But she slid her hand down my chest and onto my stomach. I quivered under her touch. Her eyes blinked innocently up at me. I felt myself leaning towards her.

“What if I… kiss it,” and she kissed my chest while meeting my eyes, “and make it better.”

My cock twitched as I tightened my grip on her arm. She slid her tongue over my nipple, and I held myself still as I watched her.

“You’ll have to spend the days after with your ass in the air. Imagine how I’d worship you.”

This fucking minx with her little words and her little tongue.

“I thought there would be no play today.”

“There won’t,” she said and smiled. “But we could engage in traditional coupling. If you like.”

I pulled back and stared down at her breasts, all pressed against me, ready to be devoured. I turned her so that we faced one another.

“If that’s the case,” I whispered while I perused the curves delicately encasing her bones.

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