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And, to Cinder, starting over meant being honest with her mate.
“That’s all I ever wanted. Magic was nice, and if Lucifer takes back my fire, I don’t care… I just want you.”
Micah’s expression softened. His jaw was tight, his flawless forehead immovable as he strained to stay in place—not because he was struggling to hold himself where he was, but because he obviously didn’t want to just jam himself inside of her—but his lips parted again, and his pale eyes filled with utter devotion.
Bracing his weight on his left arm, he reached between their bodies with his right hand. After running two fingers up her folds, making sure she was ready for him, she felt the heat of his cock move from her skin.
Cinder couldn’t keep back her mewl of desire. Shifting her hips, she searched for him, shuddering when he lined their bodies up perfectly.
Micah swallowed. “You want me, my soul?” With a gentle nudge that became a push when Cinder threw her head back against the pillow, moaning as he began to stretch her, he said, “Then take me.”
And she did. She begged him for more until he was completely seated inside of her, and even as she felt their bond snap into place—Micah did, too, from the way he panted Dawn softly against her breast—it was only second to just how incredibly good it felt to have her angel all the way inside of her.
Until he started to move, that was.
After that, Cinder could barely remember a damn thing that wasn’t the pleasure she shared with her soulmate. But that was just fine. She’d rather have sex-induced amnesia than a block she bolstered herself anytime…
* * *
The ironclad bond made him content, the echoes of the pleasure they shared leading him to pull his mate on top of him. Their racing hearts slowed to beat in tandem as Dawn breathed softly against his bare chest.
In their room, she would only ever be Dawn. Which meant that it was time for Micah to tell his witch his true name.
“Michael,” he murmured into her thick, dark hair.
She wasn’t asleep. He knew that, could sense the emotions—love, lust, and happiness—pouring off of her even as she laid there with her eyes closed.
At least, they were closed.
Dawn shifted, rising up on her forearms, tilting her head back so that she could look down at him with a pair of dazed but undeniably pleasured purple eyes. “Mmm… what was that?”
“My true name. It’s only fair. You gave me yours.”
“Michael,” she echoed, lips splitting into a coy grin as she lowered herself, nuzzling his chest with her chin.
Micah shivered to hear the two syllables in her husky voice. As she sprawled out over him again, laughing softly as she trailed her fingers along his side, he wrapped her up in his arms.
Arcing his bare back off the mattress just enough to release his wings, he curled them around Dawn, cocooning her completely inside of his embrace.
Dawn let out a soft sigh, moving her head again so that she could press her cheek over his heart. “My Michael.”
It was such a simple name, he thought, despite its history and its meaning. Literally known as “God’s gift”, only the Heavenly Father’s favored servants earned the name. When he Fell, he swore not to use it until he felt like he had. Raze and Sam might’ve used a shortened version of their own angelic names in order to avoid other souls abusing the power inherent to them, but Micah changed his entirely. He was Micah now, and had been for thousands of years.
It didn’t matter if she was Phoenix, Cinder, or Dawn. To him, she was a mix of all three: the powerful fire-wielder with secrets, the Hell-touched enchantress without her memories, and the lonely witch who had always been the other half of his soul.
She was his soulmate, and even after he’d have to let her out of the confines of his wings, nothing could separate them ever again.
Not Lucifer.
Not his brothers.
Not even the Heavenly Father.
They were together forever now—and claiming his witch had definitely been worth the wait.
