AZRAEL
In all my secret fantasies of ravishing Valoria, none of them involved her sneaking into my bed and begging to take her, because it seed closer to fiction to think about it and I wanted sothing real enough to get off.
Yet she’s here, dressed in a thin nightgown in my bed, desperate. The scent of her desire, though faint, wafts in the air between us.
Dulling all my senses until she’s the only thing I’m conscious of. Every curve of her body, every breath, every rise and fall of her heaving chest.
Her gorgeous eyes basically beg to take her. Who am I to deny the request?
I take her lips suddenly into a heated, passionate kiss, hungry and eager to devour every bit of her plump lips daring to utter those words without consequence.
She has no idea how much I’ve waited and replayed this fantasy in my head, and now I intend to take as much as I can before she can change her mind.
"Wait." She pushes away suddenly, gasps for air, maintaining the space between us with her hands that prevent from getting any closer.
She halts the kiss when it was getting too good. Her eyes dart to the half-filled wine glass right next to her and she grabs it.
She drinks it all down in seconds, wiping her lips and taking another breath.
"Wow, Valoria... are you trying to turn off right now?"
"I’m sorry." She squirms nervously with her eyes darting everywhere else. "I just... needed a shot of courage to go through with this," she confesses, summoning all her courage before her eyes et mine.
In the presence of her anxiousness, my impatience lts away, realizing the stark differences between us.
Where I’m already used to this, she’s never had the experience before, not knowing what to expect.
I’m a fool for rushing through this. For letting my desire for her take control over . For being selfish right now.
"Are you turned off?"
I shake my head, reinforcing a smile ant to ease her.
"No, never."
As if anything could make her any less desirable right now or anywhere else. I’ve craved her for too long for anything to ruin this mont.
"May I kiss you again?" I ask, going slowly this ti, seeking her own enjoynt rather than mine.
I only wait until her head bobs twice before I draw closer again, slowly this ti, pecking her lips lightly before deepening our connection.
Where deep, overpowering, passionate kisses had taken her off guard, I replace them with light, soft grazes, tempting and igniting desire in her, watching every slight reaction from every tease and stroke I give her.
I kiss her lips then nibble on them, dragging my lips down her neck painfully slowly until she shivers, instinctively grabbing ahold of , hinting that it’s her soft spot.
And then I focus on it, sucking, biting, drawing a deep moan from her throat as she presses her whole body against mine.
"How does it feel?" I whisper against her skin, blowing hot air with every word.
She thrashes against , finding her words barely.
"Good," she whispers, voice dripping with desire.
"How good?"
"Really good."
"Use your words, little mouse." I tease, wanting her to say more, to describe the way she feels, the pleasure coursing through her veins.
"Fucking good!" she admits, a bit louder.
It takes everything in not to lose control at the sound of her small frustrated voice swearing at , not to pin her down and take her to my satisfaction.
I remind myself that it’s not about right now.
But fuck, I want it to be.
I want to flip her over, bury myself so deep inside her she forgets her own na.
I want to feel her clench around my cock while she screams for to stop and keep going in the sa breath. I want to ruin her for anyone else.
But not yet. Not yet.
I slide the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, peeling the flimsy fabric down inch by torturous inch.
The fabric catches on her nipples before slipping past, and I watch them spring free—stiff, pink, perfect little peaks that make my mouth water.
I’ve imagined these tits more tis than I can count, especially from last ti. Wondered what color her nipples might be when I suck them hard enough. When I bite.
Whether they’d fit perfectly in my mouth. Whether she’d moan or whimper when I sucked on them till they’re overly sensitive.
Now I get to find out.
"Look at you," I murmur, dragging my thumb across one peaked bud, watching her shudder beneath . "So fucking pretty. Even prettier than I imagined."
"You’ve imagined this?" Her voice is breathless, surprised.
"Every single night." I lean down, hovering my mouth just above her nipple, letting my breath ghost over the sensitive flesh. "I’ve jerked off to the thought of these tits more tis than I can count."
She gasps at my confession, and I take that mont to wrap my lips around her nipple and suck.
The sound she makes—a broken, high-pitched whine—goes straight to my cock. I’m so hard it hurts, straining against my boxers, leaking precum just from the taste of her skin on my tongue.
I swirl my tongue around the hardened bud, flicking, lapping, then sucking hard enough to make her cry out.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, nails scraping my scalp, pulling closer like she can’t get enough.
Good. Because I can’t either.
I switch to her other breast, lavishing it with the sa attention. Biting down just enough to leave the faintest indent of my teeth, then soothing the sting with my tongue.
Marking her. Making her mine.
"Azrael—" My na falls from her lips like a prayer, like a plea, like the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
I could listen to her moan my na forever. Could live off the sound of it, the desperation dripping from every syllable.
My hand travels down her body, fingers tracing the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, the softness of her inner thigh.
She trembles beneath my touch, legs parting instinctively, and the scent of her arousal hits so hard I nearly groan out loud.
She slls fucking divine. Sweet and musky and desperate. I want to bury my face between her thighs and drown in her.
I cup her through her underwear first, pressing my palm against her mound, feeling the soaked fabric cling to her folds. She’s drenched.
The cotton is practically transparent with how wet she is.
"Fuck, little mouse." I groan against her breast, grinding the heel of my palm against her clit just to hear her whimper. "You’re soaked. Is this all for ?"
"Yes—" She gasps, hips bucking into my hand. "All for you—"
Those three words nearly snap my restraint in half.
All for . This dripping, needy pussy is all for .
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her underwear and drag it down her legs, tossing it sowhere behind .
And then I look at her—really look at her—spread open before like a fucking feast.
Her pussy is glistening, flushed pink and swollen, her arousal dripping down to the sheets beneath her. Her clit is peeking out from its hood, begging to be touched.
I’ve pictured this a thousand tis. Wondered what she looked like bare, what she tasted like, what sounds she’d make when I finally got my mouth on her.
But nothing compares to the reality. Nothing could have prepared for how perfect she is.
"You’re beautiful," I breathe, and I an it with every fiber of my being. "The prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen."
She whimpers at my filthy words, thighs trying to close around the emptiness between them, seeking friction.
I don’t give it to her. Not yet.
Instead, I slide my fingers through her folds, parting her slick lips, spreading her arousal from her entrance to her clit and back again.
She’s so wet I can hear it—the dirty squelch of her pussy as I play with her.
"Please—" she begs, nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. "Azrael, please—"
"Please what?" I circle her entrance with one finger, dipping in just to the first knuckle before pulling back out. Teasing. Tornting. "Tell what you need."
"Inside—" She’s panting now, chest heaving, desperation written all over her face. "I need you inside —please—"
I sink one finger into her slowly, feeling her walls part for , hot and tight and fucking heavenly.
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