"Don't sound so put out," he growls, running a hand through his hair.

Oh, that did sound bad. "No, I didn't mean it like that." I brush a strand of hair behind my ear, heat crawling up my neck. "It was just ...wow."

Azazel grins, revealing sharp white fangs. "We didn't have sex, Morte. I only bit you."

My brow furrows. "B-bit me?"

He nods and steps closer, his eyes burning with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. "It gave you the best orgasm of your life, didn't it?"

I nod, my cheeks flushing at the memory.

"Do you remember swallowing the key?" Aggonid asks, and when I turn towards him, his eyes are heated.

"The key ..." I look away, searching my memory. I glance down at my arm, suddenly aware of the cold metal of the manacle. "Oh. Did you get it?" I whip towards Azazel.

"Not yet." He grins, and my eyes dip to where an erection strains against his pants.

He notices me staring, and adjusts himself, though it does little good: he'spacking. Good gods.

"You may want to get some clothes on." He clears his throat.

"Huh? Oh!" I stammer, realizing I'm naked. Quickly, I scramble to wrap the comforter around myself.

Caius takes me in with a hooded gaze, his voice low and suggestive. "Next time, Morte."

Clutching the blanket to my chest, I turn back to Azazel. "Did you get what you needed from me?

The intensity of his gaze scorches me, and images of him crushed against my naked body have me pressing my thighs together.

"No, Morte." He grins. "But I got what we need to get the key."

I swallow, heat pooling low in my stomach.

Azazel steps closer, and his hand brushes mine, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "Ready to get the key out?"

"Will it hurt?" I gulp, my pulse racing.

Azazel reaches up and touches my chin, lifting it until my gaze meets his. He leans closer and speaks softly. "No, Morte. I can promise you that it won't hurt. You're wearing your necklace of protection, remember? It’ll feel good, for the most part."

I nod, barely able to think straight, and Azazel takes my hand. He lays me down, cradling me against his chest.

He places his lips against my neck, breath igniting a flame of desire deep within me.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

His teeth scrape lightly against my flesh, and he rests his hand low on my stomach. A tingling sensation radiates outward, and I close my eyes, lost in the intimacy of it.

"This is only the beginning, Morte," Azazel whispers in my ear.

I nod, barely even aware of what's happening as his hand moves in slow circles against my stomach. My body relaxes, and a pulsing warmth builds inside me until I feel a surge of pleasure.

Azazel speaks a single word in an ancient language, and the feeling intensifies. My body throbs, and I cling to his shoulder, doing my best to keep my whimpers and moans to myself. It's as though he's stroking every nerve ending, and I throw my head back to rest in the crux between his neck and shoulder, panting like an animal in heat. My hand cups the nape of his hair, and I hold on as the sensation grows.

He continues working his magic on me, rubbing and massaging in an upward motion. Each caress of his fingers is as though he's stoking the flame between my thighs, and I moan, helpless against his power. I writhe in his lap, the pressure building until I shatter. Arching my back, I cry out.

Azazel presses between my breastbone, and something shifts inside of me. My eyes fly open as an impression of heat passes from my navel to my throat, and something hard settles against my tongue. I cough, struggling to breathe as the key falls from my lips with a clatter.

I stare down at it in shock, my hand still clenched in Azazel's hair.