“I know the pain in your soul, because I believe it mimics my own.” I tangle my fingers in the hair at the base of her skull, wrapping my palm against the thin expanse of her neck. So thin, so fragile. “I know you smell like spiced vanilla, something sweet and delectable but with the slightest edge. The smallest bit of bite.”
I nip at her lip, letting my tongue pass over hers when she squeaks in surprise at the sharp pang of pain. “And now I know what you taste like. And it’s even better than I could have ever fucking imagined. And you better believe Quinn will be getting a beatdown for keeping that piece of information to himself.”
She laughs. It’s not much, just a soft, breathy exhale. But I track the corner of her lips as they tip up, the crinkle of her nose as the amusement warms her skin.
“I know the sounds you make when you come,” I add, brushing a few stray strands of her lavender hair out of her eyes. She looks up at me through those long lashes, all of the pain and confusion of the last week gleaming in her eyes.
Fuck.
“And I’d like to hear them again, if you’ll let me.”
She sinks her canines into the flesh of her lower lip, and fuck if it isn’t the biggest turn-on I’ve ever seen. The way they prod at her lip, they almost look like fangs. And suddenly I’m picturing her as one of us. Part of the Blood Order. Finding a home amongst us and fitting in right alongside me and Zeke. Quinn. Even Aamon. And I want it more than life itself.
She nods, and I know it’s in reference to my question, but in my mind it’s a response to the vision flashing through my mind. It is my undoing.
I pull away, turning her back to my chest and wrapping my hand in her hair before forcing her down. She hits the top of the desk with a gasp but doesn’t protest. “Listen to me, Angel.” I trail my fingers over her naked ass, letting them dip between her legs and pump lazily in and out of her. “Are you listening?” I ask when she doesn’t respond right away.
“Y–yes,” she gasps when I add a third finger to my steady rhythm.
I tighten my grip on her hair, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head as she whimpers. Fuck, I am not going to last long. “I need you to do something for me, okay?” She nods, what little bit she can, given how tight my grip is. “Think of a word. Something that will stick with you, even in the most dire of circumstances. Even when all your faculties have been wrung out and you’re not even sure who you are anymore.”
I can feel her hesitation waft through the air, so I step forward, letting my cock press against her ass through my jeans to show her just how much of an effect she has on me. I bend forward, whispering in her ear. “Something that feels secure. Feelsright. Feels like it’s been there since the beginning of time and will be there long after you are gone.” Then I kiss the shell of her ear and right myself. “Words have power, Evangeline. Pick wisely and let yourself claim its power.”
I pump my hand a few more times, letting her think on it for a moment. I’m so tempted to let her go, just so I can touch myself at the sight of her bent over, ass up before me. But I won’t allow myself the opportunity. I want to feelheraround me. Nothing else will suffice.
“Do you have that word for me yet?” I’m asking because I can barely contain myself. Because I need to be inside her. She nods again, after a long pause. Though this time it’s slower, less sure. “Good girl,” I praise, letting go of her hair and using the free hand to undo my jeans. “Call it out for me. Claim it.”
She doesn’t move, even though I’m no longer pinning her down. I’m almost giddy with how obedient she is. I’m half tempted to stay back, to push her and see how long she'll stay like that before she moves to defy me.
“Arcane,” she says at last. It shocks me, sobering something inside me. I’m still hard as fuck. Still desperate to bury myself inside her. But something in the depths of my mindclicks into place, though I can’t focus long enough to grab onto the thought.
I shake my head, plunging my hand back into her hair and picking up the pace of my fingers still inside her. “Alright. Arcane,” I repeat, letting the feel of the word wrestle against my tongue. “Keep it on the forefront of your mind. Not just now but every time we're together. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I can tell by the way her voice shakes that I have her close. I smirk, despite myself, letting one of my fingers explore her till I find her clit. She writhes beneath my hold. I double down on my efforts till she is coming apart around my hand, riding my fingers as if she’s chasing life itself. I pull on her hair, making her face lift off the desk. The moonlight flitting in through the sliding glass door paints her skin in pale, silvery light. Painted in sterling. It has a nice ring to it.
Her moans and gasps fill the room and I’m reminded of how sweet she sounds when she comes for me. It’s the purest thing, like oxygen. Like blood. And I know I’m hopeless.
I give her a moment to catch her breath as I step out of my jeans and pass my hand over myself for a blessed few moments, coating my dick in her arousal. I step up to her once more, centering my head at her entrance. “Do you have your word?”
I let my cock slide through her folds. Not entering, but teasing—hitting her clit and making her shake. She nods, not capable of forming an actual response as she comesdown from her high. “If it gets to be too much. If you want out.Ever. All you have to do is use it. Understood?” Another nod, and to my surprise, she reaches behind her to grab onto my hip and pull me forward. I would have laughed at the action, except now I’m sinking into her, the sweet bliss stills me.
“Fuck, Angel. You feel like heaven,” I exhale, grinding my teeth together to keep myself from going already.
“I told you, I’m not an angel,” she chides breathlessly. She meets my steady, albeit brutal, rhythm stride for stride. I let my head lob back as I pick up speed and give myself permission to fuck her rougher.
“I wish you could see how fucking special you are, Evangeline,” I say. And while I mean right now, bent over my desk in my T-shirt with my cock inside her, I hope she understands that I also mean all of the time. That I know she’s unaware of how incredible she is, how uniquely different her presence feels. Like I’m tangling with both the heavens and the hells whenever I'm within her grasp. “My little fallen angel,” I whisper, digging my hands into her hips and using the advantage to pound into her harder.
“One more thing,” I order, my body tensing as I try to hold back the orgasm crashing into me. “Touch yourself. Just like I did.”
There’s no more hesitation in her movements, no more uncertainty. Only confidence and lust and eagerness to please. I watch in the darkness as her hand snakes its waybetween her legs—can tell the exact moment she touches herself as her body twitches with the newly added sensation. I track the movement of her arm, imagine what it looks like from the other perspective, wondering if she will touch herself again when I am no longer here—thinking of this moment.
I hold out for as long as I can. The second I feel her orgasm build to climax, I let myself explode around her. I pump until she’s drained every last drop from me, until I know the aftershocks of her own orgasm have faded away. And when I’m sure both of us are entirely spent, I slip out of her, spinning her around and sitting her down on the edge of the desk to kiss her.
She’s my very own slice of heaven amidst the seven hells. If I hadn’t known before, then I sure as fuck knownowthat there is nothing I won’t do to keep her here with us. Forever.
I wrap her in my embrace, kissing the top of her head and letting my eyes flick down to Aamon’s cut still bunched up behind her on the back of the desk. I break away for the briefest of moments, my lips tipping up with a poison-dipped smirk.
