SERAPHINE
I sank slightly into the leather couch, dress brushing my thighs as I tried to steady my racing heartbeat.
Azrael lingered nearby, silent, eyes scanning me like a predator not for danger, but for every reaction, every tremor, every stolen breath.
"Do you always sit like that when someone is watching?" he asked, voice low, measured.
I looked up, cheeks flushed. "I'm not sitting for you," I whispered, though my body betrayed me, leaning subconsciously toward him.
He tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You're lying to yourself," he said softly.
"And you know it."
My hands trembled slightly as he knelt before me, one hand brushing a strand of hair from my face, lingering at my jaw. The intimacy was deliberate, slow not rushed every movement claiming, teasing, intoxicating.
"You feel it too, don't you?" he murmured, voice husky. "The pull between us?"
My breath hitched.
"I… I can't control it," I admitted, fingers tangling lightly in his shirt. My chest rose and fell rapidly as the tension coiled tighter, a storm waiting to break.
Azrael leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against mine.
Slowly, deliberately, he traced a finger between my thighs, along my belly button.
His hand brushed against my clit ,
Grabbed my ass possessively. My skin tingled, every nerve screaming.
"Every part of you…" he whispered, voice rough, vibrating against my ear. "…every reaction, every gasp… mine."
My lips parted.
"I…" I swallowed hard, pulse pounding.
"I want… I want you too."
A shadow of a smile tugged at his lips. "Good."
He lowered himself closer, lips brushing my clit
Then his tongue dove into me
Ah.... I" screamed in tears.
I haven't felt this way in my life I couldn't stop. Moaning
He sucked at my clit hungrily,his hand holding me still and tight like I would escape,pull away from how good it felt, my hands moved instinctively, clutching at his shoulders, then his hair as a gasp slipped past her lips.
I screamed for him to stop but he kept devouring me
Ah...goddess.
I can't believe how good it felt .
I was dripping down his face and whimpering and moaning for him to not stop.
Because I knew it felt so good.
The room's shadows flickered over us, firelight reflecting in his dark, intense eyes.
Step by step, he shifted until he hovered just above me, knees on either side of the couch, body pressing gently yet dominantly against mine. Every inch deliberate. Every touch designed to provoke, to claim, to ignite desire.
"You're not resisting," he whispered, hands tracing lightly over my back, fingers brushing under the edge of my dress. "You've already surrendered in your mind, in your pulse, in every breath."
I arched slightly under him, a shiver rolling through me.
"I… I can't…"
My words were lost to the heat pooling low, the pull of him, the thrill of danger wrapped in desire.
Azrael captured my lips in a slow, demanding kiss. Not gentle, not sweet a possessive claiming of everything I was, teasing me, tasting me, letting the kiss stretch long, lingering, like a dark promise.
My hands wandered over his chest, clutching, pressing, pulling him closer, arching into him instinctively.
Every brush of his fingers against my skin was electric.
Every whisper of his breath against my neck was intoxicating.
He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against mine, chest rising and falling. Dark eyes locked on mine, unreadable yet burning with possessive hunger.
"Do you feel it?" he asked, voice low, dangerous.
"The way I want you? The way I need you?"
I nodded, lips trembling. "Yes… I feel it. I can't stop it."
A faint, cruel smile curved his lips. "Good. Because tonight, you'll feel everything every second, every touch, every claim."
And with that, the room became our heat, shadows, whispered confessions, possessive touches, and a dark, consuming desire that neither could deny.