Page 75 of All's Hell That Ends Well

“Summon them off,” I muttered against his lips. “My pants.”

I had no patience or mind to wiggle out of them right now.

“As you wish.”

He withdrew his hand from between my thighs, and the next instant, the pants vanished from me and reappeared in his grasp. He unceremoniously tossed them over his shoulder, and they landed somewhere with a soft thud.

“I need you inside me,” I said as I straddled him, already opening his pants, his massive erection denting the material. “I want to come on your cock.”

His power shuddered around me, darkening with lust. Snagging my chin in one hand, he leaned forward and licked over my lips. “Then claim me,” he purred. “Take what you need.”

Laying both hands on my hips, he sat back again, ceding control to me. The thrill of it sizzled through me, so rare were the moments when he allowed me to take charge. Having opened his pants, I tugged them down, and he helped by lifting his hips.

His cock jutted up, large and thick and with a bead of precum glinting at the head. I uttered a little growl that spoke of the sensual hunger inside me, and his energy flickered in response.

“Do that again,” he murmured, raising one hand to summon my top and bra off me as well, letting both fall to the ground in the next second.

Like a good little demon, I growled once more.

“Perfect,” he said with the dirtiest grin I’d seen on him yet.

My thighs were slick with my arousal as I positioned myself, grabbing his cock and holding it just right before sinking downon him in one smooth slide. His hand spasmed on my hip, a rush of pleasure flooding me through the bond, nearly drowning out my own.

Throwing my head back, I moaned at the exquisite sensation of him filling me. My wings extended behind me without my conscious doing, and Azazel made a decidedly male sound of appreciation.

With both my palms pressed to his chest, I rode him, lifting up and gliding down on his cock, setting my own pace, my own rhythm. Taking what I wanted from him. Claiming him, knowing I was the only one allowed to do so.

His one hand covered my breast, squeezing it and toying with my nipple, while his other slid over my shoulder to graze the arch of my wing. Flashes of lust shot out from that touch, making my strokes erratic.

He grabbed my hips then, his fingers digging into my butt as he supported my moves, lifting me up and down, bucking up and grinding against me on each downward thrust. His energy wove around my breasts, licked over my nipples, sizzling and tantalizing, and that perfect peak neared once more.

I chased that promise of bliss with single-minded determination, riding him hard. And right there, the thick head of his cock pushed against that pleasurable spot inside me—my climax broke over me with devastating force.

I half screamed his name as I surrendered to the waves of pleasure pumping through my system, my wings fluttering, my energy twining with his. Not a second later, he followed me over the edge, finding his own release with powerful thrusts while he pulled me close and claimed my mouth in a possessive kiss.

As I fell against him, my wings slumping down on either side of the armchair, my nose buried in the crook of his neck, he softly bit my earlobe.

“And I most definitely missedthis,” he murmured, his deep voice as deliciously soothing as his power wrapping around me. “My own hand only got me so far these past years.”

My lashes brushed against the skin of his throat, the scent of him on every breath I took. “So you waited for me?” I asked in a near whisper, my heart aflutter in my chest.

He shifted so he could level a positively dark glare at me. “You thought I didn’t?” he snarled.

“I mean”—I swallowed hard, my pulse ramping up—“you couldn’t be sure if you’d actually get me back, and I was gone for so long, and I know you’re a carnal being?—”

His growl was so ferocious, so through-and-through primal and bestial, that Vengeance jumped up with a whine, obviously distressed by the show of force from another predator in the room.

“Zoe,” Azazel ground out, and if I hadn’t known, felt, and breathed his protective devotion to me, I’d have shrunk away from the unmitigated fury in his eyes. “You wound me.”

My stomach dropped, thickness coating my throat. “I?—”

He cupped my jaw, his gaze boring into me. “Do you think so little of my faith?”

“No,” I said in a small voice.

And before I could say anything else, something changed in his storm-lashed eyes, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Or is it that you think so little of yourself? That you are not worth waiting for, no matter how long it takes?”

I wanted to refute his accusation, but the words wouldn’t leave my tongue. Because I feared he’d hit too close to home.

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