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When she was bared, slowly, feeling wanton—feeling incrediblysexy—she spread her legs.
“There we fucking go.” His voice was thick and slurred a little, like his tongue was too big for his mouth. “Look at those gorgeous fucking tits—that fucking pussy. Joy, you are exquisite.”
Joy clenched her eyes shut. Why was she feeling like this? Like she was about to break apart. A sob built up in the back of her throat, tears stinging the back of her eyes, but they didn’t feel like tears of sadness or pain. She felt overwhelmed, but in the best way possible.
“Go on, lovely,” Malachi whispered encouragingly. “I would love to see you come.”
God, his phrasing. The way he spoke. So fucking polite—a juxtaposition to what they were doing right now.
Joy opened her eyes. They locked with his. The red in them, despite nearly being swallowed by pupil, was so bright it nearly hurt to look directly at them.
She didn’t once look away as she slid her left hand up to cup her left tit, gently tugging on her sensitive nipple. She didn’t hold back her moan, her lower belly swooping when those red eyes brightened at the sound.
Her right hand dipped lower, along the folds of her swollen flesh, then she slowly parted her slick, puffy lips.
“Fuck,” Malachi snarled. He didn’t move, didn’t take that as an invitation to come closer.
He merely watched, his gaze worshipful. The overwhelming feeling intensified, like there was a pocket of hot air underneath her breastbone.
She sank two of her fingers into her cunt, then pulled out, using the wetness to stroke over her clit. Her eyes didn’t leave his face even as his gaze left hers, hungrily dropping down to settle between her legs. Urgency burned in her stomach, but strangely, she wanted to take her time.
She dipped into her pussy again, arching as she pumped her fingers, then pulled them out again to rub her clit. Her nipple was getting chafed, so she slid her left hand into her mouth to get her fingers wet.
Malachi groaned. Joy echoed the sound, like she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t sure, but it felt like she could hear Malachi’s panting over her own.
She reached for her nipple again, hissing through her teeth at the slick touch, pinching herself to make her clit jump.
Malachi groaned again, and Joy finally snapped.
She shoved three fingers into her cunt at once—she was so fucking wet she barely felt the stretch—and dug the heel of her palm against her clit.
“Yes.” Malachi sounded like he was begging.
Joy whined, lifting her hips, rocking into her palm. The sound of her fingers plunging in and out of her dripping cunt was fucking obscene over the sound of their panting breaths and her tiny, bitten-off moans.
Her thighs began to shake, and despite not wanting to look away, her eyelashes began to flutter, her eyes beginning to roll back.
Malachi made a wounded noise. Her eyes flew open again. His hands were clenched into fists by his sides; his body was tense as a statue. His fangs were sinking hard into his lower lip, his red eyes as bright as the sun.
Joy’s legs clenched together, her hips jolting up. God, how aroused was he right now? That he wasn’t touching himself—that he knew this was about her—her pleasure and her pleasure alone, suddenly had Joy abruptly reaching her peak.
She cried out, gushing all over her fingers, her toes curling, her legs shaking.
“Fuck,” she gasped. “Oh my God. Oh fuck.”
Her left hand left her tit to take over stroking her clit while her hips rocked into the still thrusting fingers of her right hand.
She was so fucking primed for it she could feel it building again.
“Fucking Almighty.” Malachigroaned, sounding awed and painfully aroused in equal measure.
Joy tensed, nearly fucking screaming as she came again, her entire body going taut with it. She didn’t stop stroking until her hips were jolting with the aftershocks, and her clit felt too sensitive.
She eased her fingers out with a sigh, collapsing heavily onto the mattress, her thighs still spread wantonly wide.
When she peered at Malachi from underneath her eyelashes, he hadn’t moved from his position at the foot of her bed.
“Good boy.” It was meant to be teasing, but it made Malachi jolt, his wings flaring.
