Page 23 of Touched By Sin
I hate to admit it, but yes. I never reacted like that when the boys back home flexed their white wings. This is different. Daemon oozes danger, bad intentions, and trouble. How can I not feel drawn to him when his muscles move beneath his T-shirt and his dark hair falls into his eyes? How can I not want to burn myself in his flames despite being warned about the dangers of playing with fire? It doesn’t matter that I hate him at the best of times. I want to prick myself on his thorns, and I want to slice him open on mine.
I let my eyes fall closed while my wings move behind me. The breeze rustles my feathers, and my shoulders ache from the weight of using them like this. They’re heavy but powerful. Warm hands brush my hair off my shoulders and slide down my arms. It’s not just Daemon anymore but Ronan and Alaric, too.
“Bigger sweeps of your wings, Angel.”
Fingers dig into my jaw and soft lips brush up against mine. It’s not Daemon. This boy’s scent is different—more earthy and spicy. “That’s it, beautiful. Just like that.”
It’s Ronan.
His tongue dives into my mouth to taste, ravage, and feast on me until he’s satiated. I’m drunk on them and their roaming hands on my body. The feeling of the air shifting behind me. Then it happens—my feet slowly leave the ground and my heart speeds up with excitement. It’s so overwhelming that I lose concentration and drop back down.
“Dammit!” I hiss, breathing hard, angry with my inability to use my wings how they were designed to be used.
“How’s it going?” Dariana asks as she joins us. She’s breathtaking as always in her short, black silk dress that leaves very little to the imagination.
“It’s going shit!” I growl at the same time the boys say, “She left the ground.”
Dariana blinks, looking between us. “She left the ground? Really?”
Alaric slings his arm around my shoulder. “You should have seen it. It was amazing.”
I wish I could share his excitement. I have seen them fly multiple times, and what I achieved today is nothing close to what they can do. I’m a newborn lamb who can barely stand, never mind balance.
Dariana rolls her eyes. “Stop swooning over her wings.”
“Have you seen them?” Alaric questions. “There’s not a single angel here who won’t sprout a hard-on.”
“Come on,” Daemon says, nudging his head toward the academy. “Let’s get to class.”
As they walk away, I stretch my wings out and try to peer at them over my shoulder but fail. Why is it so hard to fly? It’s what wings were made for. What did Ronan say? They weren’t created for aesthetic reasons. Sure, he meant his fangs, but it’s the same for my wings. It makes my stomach churn with bitterness to think that my elders didn’t teach us to fly or allow the thought to blossom in our minds.
“You’ll get the hang of it soon.”
I jump, spinning around.
Dariana is still here, her brown eyes scanning over my wings with a guarded expression. “I can see why Daemon is so taken with you.”
“Yet he fucked you last night,” I snap, immediately regretting my words. It’s not fair to take my anger out on her because she took what she wanted last night. Daemon doesn’t belong to me. Hell, I don’t even want him to. I prove as much every time I push him away. Still, Dariana has felt the power of him inside her, filling her up.
“But he thought of you the entire time,” she replies, closing the distance between us. She smells of midnight and shadows that lure you closer to certain death. “Daemon and the others are not used to girls who turn them down. You’re uncharted territory to them. This isn’t Heaven,” she whispers, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Morals and compassion don’t have a home here in our world. Daemon will hurt you to get a piece of you, and if you don’t offer it up freely, he'll carve it out of you.”
My breath stutters when she slides her fingers down the side of my neck. Her movements are slow, a ghost of a touch.
“Why are you fighting him?” she whispers, her breath fanning over my lips. “Let him in, and he’ll make you feel things you never knew possible.”
“Shouldn’t you want to get rid of me? Am I not a threat to the empty seat by his side on the throne?”
She hums, trailing her touch lower over my dress until her fingers brush against my bare thighs. Snaking her hand beneath my skirt, she smiles when my lips part. “I should, but I’m strangely curious.” She drags her fingers over my damp panties and hooks the fabric. Moving them aside, she slides her hand inside.
“Dariana…” I whimper, but she silences my soft sound of pleasure with her lips on mine. Sucking on my bottom lip, she bites down and dips a finger inside me. I cry out as a spark of pleasure trickles down my stomach to my aching pussy, and she moves in again, kissing me deeper.
When we come up for air, she whispers, “Ever heard of the sayingcuriosity killed the cat?”
I quickly shake my head, seeking her touch with rolls of my hips while gripping her shoulders. I’m about to combust. Her hungry mouth sucks, nips, and nibbles a path down my jaw and neck. “Nothing good will come from me touching you like this, but I can’t stop.” Then she snarls, and I cry out when a sharp pain sears the skin on my neck.
She’s drinking from me.
Deep pulls that draw the blood from my trembling body. She’s taking without permission, subduing me with her skilled fingers that rub and tease and slide.
