Page 75 of Alastair
Indecision sparked in his eyes. He moved one hand from my waist and caressed the hollow of my throat. “I have a better idea.” He then enveloped me in his arms and rose from the balcony, heavy wings flapping.
“What are you doing?” I whipped my head around as the ground stretched farther below us. “Put me back down. I’m not dressed to go out.”
“No one will see your pj’s, Alastair.” He lifted us above the treetops before evening out in a steady glide.
Frustrated, I wiggled against him. “I also have wings, you know. I can fly myself.”
“I know you can,” he said in a tone that matched his expressionless face. He held me tighter. “Yet, I prefer this. So stop whining.”
“This is humiliating.”
He stared ahead, indifferent to my complaints.
Being carried through the air like this didn’t sit well with Pride. It didn’t with me either. I was mortified by the thought of anyone seeing me in my night clothes, no shoes, and my hair freshly washed and no product to hold the unruly strands in place. Fortunately, we arrived at his bungalow without coming across anyone.
Lazarus didn’t release me as he landed in the sand. Did he think I would fly away? Well, right then, I might’ve done so just to spite him. He carried me through the front door before kicking it closed behind us. Only then, once I was surrounded by walls with no easy escape, did he set me down.
“That was uncalled for.” I smoothed a hand down the front of my wrinkled shirt. As if I wasn’t in my goddamn pajamas. What would a few wrinkles hurt? “If you wanted me to come over, you should’ve asked like a normal person.”
“Carrying you was faster.”
“And less dignified,” I mumbled.
“I must admit…” Lazarus cupped my cheek and brushed his thumb over my mouth. “That pout of yours is endearing.”
The audacity of him. “First, you force me away from my room in this unpresentable state.” I motioned to my clothes. “And now you demean me further by—”
Lazarus grabbed me by the chin and crushed our lips together. I grunted in surprise, nearly losing my balance. My shock lasted only a fraction of a second before I melted into his kiss. He swept his tongue along the seam of my mouth, exploring. Tasting. I curled my fingers in the back of his short hair, tasting him too.
“You were saying?” he whispered.
“Don’t remember.” I tugged him back against me, claiming his mouth in a heated kiss.
Our teeth clanked as he guided us backward. Toward the couch? The bed? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. With the fated mate bond surging between us, he could’ve laid me down right there on the floor and fucked me within an inch of my life and I would’ve been perfectly okay with it.
A breeze caressed my skin as he pushed me into a room. His bedroom. The window was open, letting in the cool night air. Waves crashed against the shore, the sound a backdrop to our soft grunts and kisses as he laid me on the bed, still devouring my mouth.
“Take off my shirt,”I told him telepathically, not wanting to interrupt the flow of our kiss.
“Are you giving me orders, Pride?”Lazarus slid his hands up the hem of my shirt, palming the planes of my abdomen. It sent goose bumps along my flesh.
“What will you do if I say yes?”
He nipped at my bottom lip, dragging it between his teeth. I peeked up at him, and his hungry gaze sent a shiver through me. “Are you cold?” he asked. “I can shut the window.”
“Leave it. If you’re worried about me being cold, warm me up.” I pulled him back down by the nape, rejoining our mouths.
The hard ridge of his cock pressed to mine as he rocked his hips forward. I almost lost my mind. Lazarus. Mr. Pure and Proper who was often colder than a block of ice… was hard as a damn rock. Now, he could melt ice caps with the heat of his gaze and the searing flames of his touch.
A grunt rumbled in his throat as he ground forward again. The sound shot right through me, setting my body ablaze.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he pecked kisses down my neck, fingertips grazing the bare flesh of my belly as he worked my shirt up. “Perfect.”
Pride keened, the noise rising up through my chest. The compliment stroked my ego, but it also made me feel special. Without a doubt, I knew the angel on top of me had never said those words to anyone else.
Only to me.
Once he removed my shirt, he nibbled along my collarbone, hands skimming up and down my sides. He paused as he reached my left shoulder. Before I could ask what was wrong, he traced the line of my scar.
