AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A tear leaks down my cheek, followed by another as I come back to my senses, trying to process what just happened. My ears are ringing, pulse thrashing, eyes burning as Azrael’s growl of pleasure behind me rolls over my back. His rough hands are all over me now, pawing and groping as he fucks me like a man possessed. When I dare a glance at him over my shoulder, his eyes capture mine, and they don’t let me go.
It feels intimate to see him this way. So off balance, drunk on me in a way I never could have imagined. He feels it too, and he wants to punish me for it. He makes that clear when he moves for my throat again.
“Azrael,” I choke out his name like a safe word, and everything halts as he stares down at me with ragged breaths.
His eyes are conflicted, torn between punishing me or giving me what I’m silently begging for. Ultimately, whatever he sees in the depth of my gaze sways him, and he pulls out of me reluctantly, only to lift me into his arms and wrap my legs around him.
We’re face to face when he thrusts back into me, his strength unwavering as he holds me up as if it’s nothing. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he rolls his hips, taking up a different rhythm that’s less frenzied and more intense. I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I reach up to stroke his hair and press my lips against his. It seems to catch him off guard.
He freezes for a moment before he kisses me in return, a kiss that deepens with every thrust, every hitch of our breaths. His tongue sweeps over my lips before plunging into my mouth, tasting me like he can’t help himself.
He’s so hard for me, I can feel him creeping toward his oblivion as tension bleeds into his muscles. It won’t be long, and the realization that time is running out makes us both frantic. I paw at him, my fingers tugging at his hair while he shoves me back against the bookcase, the impact shaking the wall and forcing the breath from my lungs. He swallows that breath and every other that I give him.
The shelves behind me groan beneath the weight of our bodies, books toppling to the floor as a guttural sound crawls up his throat and spills between my lips.
He comes even more violently than I did, his cock pulsing, warmth filling me—yet still, he doesn’t stop. A shudder moves through him as I roll my hips, nibbling at his mouth, drinking him in like I’ve been put under a spell.
I can’t explain this strange energy thrumming between us. The only thing I know is that it’s not of this world. It doesn’t listen to reason or logic. It doesn’t care about our mutual hatred or the barriers I swore I wouldn’t allow to crumble in his presence.
Something is happening here, something I can’t control, and I know I’m not the only one who feels it.
Azrael proves it when he jerks inside me one last time, a final powerful shudder. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growls against my lips.
It’s the same thing he asked me last night, and I don’t have an answer for him. As much as I’d like to take the blame, to pretend that I wield such power, I know this isn’t me.
As his eyes settle on mine, I wonder if this is part of the curse. If every other Wildblood that’s been sacrificed came to feel such conflict about their captors.
It doesn’t make sense. None of it does. It’s something only Elizabeth knew since there are no remaining survivors to ask.
Azrael looks just as uncertain as I feel when he finally relinquishes my body, setting me upon my feet. Briefly, his gaze drifts to the come leaking down my thighs, the evidence of his claim on me. Something flickers in his eyes, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the rules we are to abide by. There can be no child between us. It’s why his family dictated that the sacrificed Wildblood should already be on birth control, a rule I readily agreed to when I got the shot in preparation for the Tithing.
My first thought is that he’ll grab something to wipe it away. But instead, he tucks himself back into his pants and reaches for my torn dress.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he slips the material over my head, tying the two pieces at the back.
“It’s time for dinner,” he says.
“I need to go change,” I protest, glancing down at the very noticeable strap hanging loose from the bodice. “I need to clean up–”
“No.” His word echoes like a gunshot through the room, silencing me as I glance up at him in question. “You’ll go to dinner just as you are.”
