Page 54 of Angel of Ruin

His fingers join his mouth, sliding inside me with a slow, deliberate motion that makes me arch my back. He curls them, hitting a spot that makes me see stars. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the moans that threaten to escape.

Sariel's pace quickens, his fingers and tongue working in tandem. He growls against me, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. I can feel it building, that delicious tension that promises release.

He sucks gently, his fingers moving faster, and I can't hold back any longer. I come undone, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over me. I cry out his name, my hands finding his hair, holding him in place as I ride out the orgasm.

He slows his movements, bringing me down gently. I'm panting, my heart racing as I come back to reality. Sariel looks up at me, a satisfied smirk on his face. He knows what he's done to me, and he's proud of it.

"Sariel," I whisper, my voice hoarse from my cries. His name is a promise, a plea, a declaration all rolled into one. And as he crawls up my body, his mouth finding mine, I know this is just the beginning.

Sariel smirks, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and challenge. "You think you can handle me, little nexari?" he taunts, pulling his tunic over his head, revealing the expanse of his muscular chest.

I lean up, my fingers finding the laces of his pants, tugging them loose. "I know I can," I reply, my voice steady despite the need blooming in my stomach.

I wrap my hand around his length, feeling him harden under my touch. He's hot and heavy in my palm, a thrill of power coursing through me as I stroke him, relishing the way his breath hitches.

His head falls back, a low groan escaping his lips. "Fuck, Lyra," he growls, his hips bucking into my hand. I work him slowly, building a rhythm that has him panting, his body tense with restraint.

I guide him to my entrance, a dare in my eyes as I meet his gaze. "Make me forget, Sariel," I whisper, my voice laced with challenge. "Make me forget everything but you."

He lets out a low, dangerous laugh, his wings flaring out behind him. "You asked for it, little nexari," he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss as he thrusts into me, filling me completely.

I gasp into his mouth, my body stretching to accommodate him. He takes my dare seriously, setting a punishing pace that has me clinging to him, my nails digging into his shoulders. Each thrust is a statement, a claim, a promise to make me forget everything but him.

"Is this what you wanted, Lyra?" he growls, his voice rough with exertion. "You wanted me to fuck you until you can't think straight?"

I can only nod, my breath coming in ragged gasps as he drives into me, his body dominating mine. He's everywhere, consuming me, his scent, his touch, his voice overwhelming my senses. And I love it. I love the way he makes me feel alive, desired, powerful.

He hits a spot deep inside me that makes my toes curl, a wave of pleasure crashing over me. I moan deeply, clinging to him, and he just gives me a devious smile.

Sariel pulls out, his hands gripping my hips as he flips me onto my stomach. I let out a gasp, the cool air of the room a starkcontrast to the heat of his body. He runs a hand down my spine, his touch possessive.

"You know what I'm looking forward to, little nexari?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He leans down, his breath hot on my ear. "When you have wings of your own. I can't wait to play with them, to feel them under my hands as I fuck you."

I shudder at the image, my body clenching in anticipation. "You think you're that good, huh?" I taunt, looking back at him over my shoulder. "Think this will keep going when we leave here?"

The question is a tease, but the message behind it… It's a real fear. It's not like we've talked about it. Communication has never been my strong suit with Sariel.

He chuckles, a dark and dangerous sound. "I know I can, Lyra. You're mine. Every part of you, every inch of you. Nothing is going to stop me from having you." He thrusts back in, hard and deep, claiming me with every movement.

I moan, my fingers gripping the sheets as he sets a punishing pace. Each thrust is a statement, a claim, a promise. "You're awfully sure of yourself, Sariel," I pant, my body meeting his with every movement. "What if I decide I don't want to be yours?"

He leans down, his hand wrapping around my throat, not squeezing, just holding. A show of dominance, of possession. "Then I'll just have to convince you, won't I?" he growls, his hips moving faster, his body driving into mine with a force that leaves me breathless. "I'll fuck you until you can't think straight, until you can't remember a time when you weren't mine. Until you beg for more, little nexari."

I let out a laugh, breathless and challenging. "You think you can make me beg, Sariel? You think you're that good?"

He smirks, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and challenge. "I know I am, Lyra. And I'm going to prove it to you,right now." He shifts his angle, hitting a spot deep inside me that makes my toes curl. I cry out, my body convulsing around him as he drives me higher and higher, his words and his body claiming me, owning me, making me his.

Sariel's grip on me tightens just a fraction, not enough to hurt but just enough to send a thrill of possession coursing through me. His hips move with a steady, punishing rhythm, each thrust a claim, a statement of ownership.

"You're mine, Lyra," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "No one else touches you. No one else fucks you. You're all mine."

I try to hold back, try to resist the inevitable. But with each thrust, each possessive word, I feel myself slipping, giving in to the primal need he stirs within me.

My body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. I can feel it building, that delicious tension that promises release.

"Say it, Lyra," he demands, his golden eyes locked onto mine. "Say you're mine."

I shake my head, a defiant spark still burning within me. "Make me," I challenge, my voice breathless and ragged.

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