Page 53 of Her Fallen Angel

"Good girl," he murmurs, voice rough with approval. It only turns me on, and I want more. I hope he gives me everything because I'm tired of him holding back.

Kai scoops me up effortlessly, cradling me against his broad chest. His wings sweep around us, creating a cocoon of shadows and warmth. He settles onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and positions me so I'm straddling his lap. His violet eyes gleam with a hunger that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Ride me, little flame," he commands, voice rough with desire. "Show me how you worship me."

His hands grip my hips, guiding me as I sink down onto him. A gasp escapes my lips as he fills me completely, stretching me almost unbearably.

His wings rustle, the feathers brushing against my back, urging me to move. I plant my hands on his chest, fingers tracing the numerous scars that mar his skin. Each one a testament to his strength, his resilience. I begin to move, slowly at first, finding my rhythm. His jaw clenches, eyes never leaving mine as I rise and fall.

Emboldened, I reach out, running my fingers along the edge of his wings. They're surprisingly soft, the feathers velvety beneath my touch. Kai growls, the sound low and feral. His grip on my hips tightens, his body tensing beneath me.

"Aren," he warns, voice barely recognizable. I can feel the barely leashed power coiled within him, ready to snap. I do it again, tracing the delicate arch of his wing, reveling in the way his body responds to my touch.

His wings curve around us, blocking out the light, casting us in darkness. I can barely see him, but I can feel him—hishot breath on my skin, his heart pounding against my palm, his length buried deep inside me.

"Fuck, Aren," he groans, bucking his hips upward, driving into me with a force that steals my breath. I cry out, nails digging into his chest as pleasure rips through me. He does it again, and again, each thrust more brutal than the last.

"Please," I beg, voice hoarse with need. "Please, Kai..."

"What do you want, little flame?" he growls, one hand tangling in my hair, pulling my head back. His eyes gleam in the darkness, violet and wild. "Tell me what you need."

"More," I gasp. "I need more. I'm begging you."

A savage grin curls his lips. "That's right. Beg me. Worship me." His wings flex, the tips caressing my breasts, teasing my nipples into tight buds. I arch into the touch, a moan escaping my lips.

His hands grip my ass, lifting me effortlessly as he pounds into me from beneath. Each thrust is punishing, claiming, pushing me higher and higher until I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion. His wings enfold us tighter, squeezing the air from my lungs, surrounding me with his scent, his heat, his power.

"You're mine, Aren," he growls, teeth sinking into the flesh of my shoulder. The sharp pain mixes with the pleasure, sending me spiraling. "Every inch of you. Every cry. Every fucking prayer. Mine."

I can't speak, can't think. All I can do is feel. His body claiming mine, his wings holding me captive, his voice commanding my surrender. I give him everything, holding nothing back. My body, my soul, my heart.

His thrusts become erratic, desperate. His breath hitches, muscles tensing beneath my hands. I'm so close, hovering on the precipice, waiting for him to push me over.

"Come with me, little flame," he demands, voice raw with need. His hand slides between us, thumb circling my clit,sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me. "Now, Aren. Fucking now."

I shatter, pleasure detonating like a bomb, leaving nothing but wreckage in its wake. Kai roars, his own climax ripping through him. His wings convulse, feathers rustling as he folds them around us, blocking out the world.

In this moment, there is nothing but him. His breath on my skin, his heart pounding in time with mine, his body claiming me completely. I cling to him, trembling with the force of our release, riding out the storm together.

29

KAI’RIN

Through the dim light of dawn filtering into my chambers, I watch the steady rise and fall of Aren's chest as she sleeps peacefully beside me. Dark waves of her hair spill across my pillows, and her dark skin glows in the soft light.

My fingers hover over the curve of her shoulder but don't touch - I don't want to wake her yet. Not after I thoroughly ravaged her last night. She's probably hoarse after all the begging I made her do, after the way I used her body as my own little offering and made her worship me.

And I'd do it all again. I plan to.

She looks so small, so delicate against the expanse of my bed. My wings shift restlessly at the thought, casting shadows across her sleeping form. The urge to wrap her in them, to shield her from the world outside these walls, claws at my chest.

"Little flame," I whisper, though she can't hear me. The nickname has taken on new meaning - no longer mockery, but something deeper that I'm barely beginning to understand.

A possessive growl builds in my throat as I imagine another's hands on her, another's voice commanding her prayers. The mere thought sends rage coursing through my veins, my magiccrackling in violet sparks along my skin. My scars burn with remembered battles, but this - this is different. This isn't about conquest or dominance anymore.

I've broken countless spirits before her, taken pride in watching the light fade from defiant eyes. But Aren... her light only burns brighter. Even in submission, she maintains that inner flame that first drew me to her. The thought of that light being extinguished, or worse, burning for another, makes my blood run cold.

My fingers curl into fists. Having her pray to me, sleep with me, yield to my desires - it's not enough anymore. I need more. I need to bind her to me so completely that no one would dare try to take her. The magic in my blood pulses with the possibility, ancient and primal.

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