Page 51 of Sleeping Redemption
I giggled and clapped my hands while seated in the front passenger seat. “Ooh! Let’s do that again!”
Sy and Atlas both spoke up from the back seat firmly in unison. “No.”
Rook reached over and grabbed my hand, bringing the back of it to his lips. “Another time, love.” He gave me a dashing waggle of his pierced brow as he nipped the back of each of my fingers affectionately after the delicate kiss he had planted on my hand.
We all filed out of my Maserati and onto the sidewalk. Atlas joined me on one side, Rook on the other, and Sylas walked ahead of us with his hands tucked into his pockets, still muttering about Rook’s driving skills.
Mr. Piss-and-Moan slowed to a stop as we passed Brixton’s oldest church, a building made of weathered stone and stained glass. The rest of us came to a halt behind me. Sy stared up at the oversized oak doors in what looked like a state of somber contemplation.
After several moments, Atlas finally broke the silence. “If you need a minute?—”
“No. Let’s go.” Sylas gruffly cut off my guardian angel’s words and walked forward purposefully.
The three of us continued following after sharing looks amongst ourselves. Once we passed the holy building, I glanced back at it ruefully before we rounded the corner onto the street where the ice cream parlor was located.
We quickly got settled in a four-person booth with Atlas and Rook seated across from Sy and me. We all engaged in light conversation as we perused the menu filled with various combinations of sundaes.
“What type of jelly do you think they use on the PB&J sundae?” Rook asked contemplatively.
I chuckled as I sat there. “Probably not the kind you’re looking for,” I responded with a grin on my face.
My trickster demon nodded before dropping the menu back down onto the table. “In that case, I’m glad I can always pull it straight from the tap.”
Sylas set his face in a hard glare. “If your hands so much as move below the tabletop, Rook, I will personally see to it that you have to eat your sandwiches with your toes.”
“Kinky.” Rook smirked before looking over at me. “Love, you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand would you?”
That prompted a bristle and frustrated huff from the archangel at my side. I reached over and patted his muscled thigh while giving Rook a pointed look to behave himself. Sylas seemed to ease back into his seat while my hand rested on top of his leg while another type of tension seemed to be lingering just under the surface.
Smoothing things over, Atlas changed the subject as his eyes met my own. “Is there anything you want to do after we are done here, angel?”
I mulled over what I was in the mood for, and as I did so, I felt the slight graze of Atlas’s leg against mine underneath the table. A heat rolled up my leg from the contact, my eyes darkening at the sensation that awakened a hunger in me.
“I may have something in mind,” I responded with lustful intentions clear in my eyes. You could nearly feel the shift in the air across the table. Atlas straightened up in his seat, his leg brushing against mine again. This time it was quite intentional.
I slid out of my seat, Atlas’s eyes following me like a hawk eyeing its next meal. Approaching his side of the booth, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his, coaxing him out of his seat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rook’s wolfish grin and Sy’s stonelike gaze before I led Atlas to the back of the establishment where the bathrooms were located. Entering the single-person bathroom, I could feel Atlas’s hand tightening around mine in anticipation.
Without warning, I turned on him and shoved him back against the door with a feral glint in my crystalline eyes. His back hit the wood with a solid thud as desire pooled in his gaze.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he said, his voice carrying a huskiness to it.
Pressing myself against him, my hand slid over the side of his neck as I tauntingly brushed my lips over his. My demand rolled out in a sultry whisper, “Pray.”
My other hand trailed down the front of his body, my fingertips dancing along the hard lines of his muscles present underneath his shirt.
Keeping my eyes glued to his, I gave a harsh jerk of his belt as I undid it. “Pray to God. I want to hear you tell Him how it feels like the right thing to have your dick in my throat.”
Atlas stifled a groan as my hand swiftly opened up his pants, the zipper already bulging out from his hardening cock. He visibly swallowed, and his breath grew heavy in anticipation.
“Angel… I’ll pray to whatever deity you want while your mouth worships my cock.” His hands came to both sides of my head, entangling his fingers in my dual-toned tresses.
His growing need was evident in the way he firmly grasped onto my hair as I lowered myself to my knees before him. The hard tile reminded me of all the times I had blown him in the back of a church while he was still a cambion.
Pulling his boxers down out of my way, his dick jutted out, presenting me with what I planned to feast on. My fingers curled around the steely length at its base and guided the swollen headtoward my lips. In one slow lick, I lapped up the bead of pre-cum from the tip, drawing a shiver from Atlas’s body.
From there, I guided my mouth onto his cock, letting my lips wrap around his girth. The sound of a groan from deep in his chest stirred a primal hunger in me.
