Page 17 of Deviled Eggs (One Handed Holidays: Crossed Swords Edition #4)

Micah

“Hold on a goddamned second. Let me make sure I understand precisely what you’re saying.” Niklaus pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. “After you’ve called all these meetings and wasted so much of our time… after we told you repeatedly what a shitty idea this was and you refused to listen…now you have decided to pull the plug on the whole thing? Now?! ”

“Yes,” I say, my voice coming out so weak that I have to clear my throat. “The project has been cancelled.” I take a shaky breath to steady myself, but the calmer I appear, the angrier they become. They glare at me as I stare at the top of the podium, their scorn cutting through me like daggers.

Their insults carve themselves into my skin.

Pathetic.

Pitiful.

Disgrace.

I’m a mess. My body is exhausted, and my thoughts are in shambles. No matter what I do or how I try to distract myself, the betrayal on Xalreth’s face is branded into my mind. The agony he projected as I left him standing outside his building, making no effort to hide how much I’d hurt him. Mere hours after swearing I’d stay by his side, I broke my promise.

He hates me now, and he has every right.

Each hour has been a battle against the desperate need to return, to fall at his feet and plead for forgiveness. Beg him to take me back in any capacity. I want to… God knows I do. But in the time we’ve spent together, I’ve realized a few very important things about the demon.

Despite how hard he works to project his cocky, devil-may-care facade, he isn’t selfish. Not like I am—even if he does everything in his power to hide that fact. This fear of failure doesn't cripple him. He doesn’t self-sabotage because it’s easier to be alone than it is to be afraid.

No, he’s a far better man than I am, and if I begged, he’d take me back. He’d take me back for no other reason than he wanted to make me happy again. I’d spend the rest of my life walking on eggshells, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Waiting for him to realize he’s better off without me.

“If you had listened to a single other person’s input from the beginning, we wouldn’t be sitting here now looking like fools,” Niklaus continues.

“No one looks like a fool—” I start, but Niklaus interrupts me with a snort.

“Bullshit, Micah. You’re standing up there as the textbook definition of one.”

My gaze falls to the podium again, searching for the resolve to defend myself against his words, but finding nothing. My will to fight is gone. “Oh, but Micah is so good at looking like a fool,” Damien purrs as he strokes Niklaus’s beard. I glance up at the same time he does, and we lock eyes as he bares his teeth in a threatening smile. “Aren’t you?”

My throat is so tight I have to force my swallow as Drekoth lets out an exasperated scoff. “Does this mean I can have Xalreth back? He’s the only one in Hell that knows how to give a proper haircut.”

“Xalreth’s schedule is no longer my concern.” I fight to keep my face neutral as he gives a pleased hum, no doubt thinking of ways he plans on taking advantage of Xal. My blood boils at the thought of Drekoth getting too close to him, spending all that time with him while treating him like a servant, but I tamp it down and settle for glaring. He flips his hair over his shoulder, lifting a brow as though he’s challenging me to out-diva him.

I don’t have it in me.

Damien’s eyes are alight with something potent, and they’re laser pointed at me. His lips pull into the slightest smirk as he stares me down. “You’re a fucking fool. First class, grade-A goddamned idiot.”

My nostrils flare as my chin lifts, my defenses rising as he continues to give me that maddening smile. “Watch yourself, Damien.”

He pushes himself up from the chair and leans in, palms flat on the table, while smugness practically radiates off him. “Why should I? Is big, bad Micah going to actually do something about it? Or will you just stand up there like the coward you are?”

“Sit down.” I push a touch of power into my voice, but he fights it and continues to leer at me.

“That’s right. Make me sit and put me in my place while you keep pretending to be important. You messed up, do you know that? You trashed something good and you’re too goddamned proud to admit it.”

Azrael's inhaler puffs as another of my shaky inhales tries to calm the peeled-up, frayed edges of my patience. It’s clear in the way I annunciate every syllable, because if I so much as raise my voice, I’m going to explode. What’s left of this battered body will just erupt, and I’ll be reduced to nothing but fragments, too weak to piece themselves back together.

Deep breath.

“The project was a failure. It was an idea that didn’t pan out—”

“I wasn’t talking about the fucking Easter Bunny nonsense, though I think we can all agree it was one of your dumber ideas. It’s impressive, really, considering your asinine schemes we’ve suffered through in the past.”

Father Time speaks up, his dusty voice shocking everyone. “It was almost as stupid as that time you requested extra personnel to catch a leprechaun.” Every single person in the room stares at him for a long second before he lifts his shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“Holy shit, I forgot about that,” Damien says, choking on a hateful laugh as he shakes his head.

“Wait, leprechauns exist?” Niklaus asks, and Damien nods.

“You’re The Santa and you’ve never heard the story of the leprechauns?” When Niklaus just lifts a brow, Damien huffs a laugh. “Several hundred years ago, two Santas back, I believe, a bunch of elves rebelled—”

“Sounds familiar,” Niklaus mutters while Damien grins wider.

“This was a full on rebellion, and they left the North Pole. Decided to live in Ireland and have been causing mischief ever since. Found some way to harness luck, and Micah wanted to steal it for himself.”

I narrow my eyes as my fingers flex against the surface of the podium. “That was not my intention, and you know that. They are a nuisance, and my goal was to restore order.”

He returns my glare, directing his snarky smirk at me. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I didn’t—”

“You fucked up, Micah. You fucked up big time, and you know exactly what I’m referring to.” The blood drains from my face as he glares. Xalreth and Damien have always been close. Surely he wouldn’t betray my confidence by sharing my secrets… would he?

Has he been talking about me? Did they have a good laugh while discussing intimate details about our time together?

Does Damien know of my proclivities?

A cold sweat slicks my skin as the blood returns to my face, crawling up my neck and flushing my cheeks as my heart drums in my ears. Panic grips my throat, a vise around my windpipe, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. Each beat of my pulse blurs my vision, but I can’t look away from his triumphant smile.

“What do you know?” The words come out strained and raspy, forced from my vocal cords because I don’t want to hear the answer.

Damien’s grin turns malicious. “I know that you and Xal—”

The door bursts open, hitting the wall with a loud bang that sends a cloud of dust motes dancing in the sunbeams. Xalreth’s fury is a living, breathing thing as he storms into the room. The intensity of his uncontrolled anger steals the air, incinerating it until it’s stifling. His eyes burn with that crimson glow that means he’s barely restraining his inner demon.

“Thanks for the heads up about this meeting, Damien, but give it a rest and shut your fucking mouth,” Xalreth growls as he stalks forward, eyes locked on mine. Hushed whispers murmur from the others in the room, but he ignores them.

Right now, I’m his only prey.

His familiar scent surrounds me as he gets close, stopping only when his nose is inches from mine. My heart leaps into my throat, and his brow lifts as his gaze drops to the thundering vein in my neck. “What’s wrong, angel?” A quiet whimper sneaks loose as he takes a deep inhale, inching his lips closer to my ear. “Are you nervous?”

“No… yes. Xal, I—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, and I bite my lip as I force another swallow that chokes me. “You’ve done enough standing at the podium and preaching, and now it’s your turn to fucking listen.”

He doesn’t even blink, challenging me to object. My hands tremble as I fist them at my sides, waiting for whatever is coming my way. “Pulling the plug on this project, are you? It would’ve been nice to share that news with your partner .”

The deliberate manner in which he says it sends a surge of adrenaline through my veins, but he only sneers. “You don’t even know the meaning of that word, do you? Poor, pitiful Archangel, only ever having to be concerned with himself.”

“That’s not fair,” I whisper, so faint only he can hear it, but his eyes flare as though I screamed it at him.

“There’s a lot of that going around right now, isn’t there?” He glares at me again, daring me to speak up before he continues. “You finally realized this entire project was a fucking joke, huh? Well, congratulations, Micah, you’ve caught up to the rest of the class. Maybe if you’d learn to listen to someone other than yourself, you would’ve worked that out much faster. But that’s not what Micah does, is it? He’s too goddamned arrogant to consider what anyone else has to say. He only cares about himself.”

The words hit their mark and I flinch. “Please, Xal—”

“Did I say you could talk?” he demands, and I shake my head as he snarls. “You’re so stuck in your fucking head that you can’t admit to yourself when you do something wrong. And I could look past that, because I know why you do it… why it’s important for you to be right. I understand why you push so hard and why you think you have to do everything on your own.” His voice softens as I blink, combatting the burning behind my eyes.

Xalreth inches closer, reaching to weave his fingers through my hair. Surprised murmurs explode from around the room, but my focus is locked on him. “And God fucking help me, I could forgive all of that. Pick up these broken pieces of us and put them back together, and I would do it without so much as a bitter thought. But what I can’t forgive, what I will not tolerate, is you walking away from me. You carved this path of destruction in my life… just waltzed on through, blowing everything up along the way. You were a goddamned tornado, and now you’re trying to leave me in the carnage like it never mattered.”

“Of course it matters,” I whisper, but he silences me with another glare.

“You burrowed your way inside of me, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t move on. Do you have any idea how much easier it would be if I could just forget about you?” His lips brush mine and the whispers among the group grow louder. “Is that what you want, angel? Do you want me to forget I was ever in love with you?”

“Oh, what the fuck ?” Damien breathes in shock, but my eyes are on the man in front of me.

“I asked you.” My voice is unsteady as I fight to find the words. “Outside your building, I asked point-blank what you wanted from me, and you had nothing to say. You couldn’t even answer that simple question.”

“Simple,” he huffs with an angry laugh. “Nothing about this is simple. But you’re right—you gave me the opportunity to spell it out for you, and I missed it. There are so many things I should’ve said to you.” The regret in his voice is clear, and the hardened lines of his face grow softer. “And I’m sorry I didn’t. You deserve to hear them.”

His fingers tighten in my hair as he draws me forward and presses our lips together. Nothing else in the world matters except for this moment. It’s all just white noise and distraction. I fist his shirt and try to deepen the kiss, but he breaks us apart with a quiet chuckle.

“Patience, now, eager thing. You asked what I wanted from you, Micah? The answer is everything . To wake up every morning inside you and go to sleep every night with your taste on my tongue. When you’re afraid and feel like the world is crumbling around you, I want to be the one you come to. Your laugh is just as amazing as those beautiful sounds I draw out of you, and I want them all.”

“Aww,” Azrael coos.

“Did they forget we’re here?” Niklaus asks in irritation, and Damien shushes him.

Xalreth pulls something from his pocket, and the glint of gold against his dark skin makes my heart ache with a sharp, physical pain. “I want you , Micah. No secrets, no hiding. I want you to be mine, but only if it’s real this time.”

“It was always real,” I whisper, my voice trembling, and his expression is unreadable as the moment stretches between us. He’s wary as I slide my palms up his chest and grip his shirt, pulling him closer. “You are the only real thing I’ve ever had, darling. Put it on me. Please?”

He’s quiet. So fucking quiet, and his silence cracks a chasm right into the center of my chest. My breath holds in my lungs, until he gives me the tiniest nod. Relief almost brings me to my knees as he reaches around my neck to fasten the collar, and its weight is a comfort against my skin. Once it’s on, he traces his fingers along the chains before he hooks one through the loop and drags me closer. Our noses bump and our lips brush, and we’re breathing the same air.

“Forgive me,” I plead, and he yanks me forward in a rough kiss. All the tension of the past few days—the hate, the self-loathing, the gnawing emptiness inside—it melts away until there’s nothing left but him. His kiss is brutal and punishing, teeth scraping my lips until they bleed, but the pain only fuels my desire for more.

“I need you,” I murmur against his lips. “I’ve always needed you.”

He pulls back and drags his thumb over my swollen lower lip. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before his eyes lift to mine. They’re filled with promises.

Promises of a future—of a life worth living.

But most of all, they’re full of love.

“Everyone out,” he shouts, but they remain seated, openly gawking at the two of us. Xalreth glares over his shoulder and bares his teeth, his voice taking on its guttural, rolling demonic tone. “Did I stutter? Get out! Now! ” They scramble to stand, Damien with a deliriously cheery grin on his face as he reluctantly follows the others from the room.

As soon as the door closes, he drags his hands over my chest. “Finally wearing a shirt in public, I see,” he murmurs as he tears it down the front. “Covering up what belongs to me, are you?”

“Yes,” I admit, but it turns into a hiss as he grabs my cock through my pants.

“You didn’t take it off?” His lips trace a path along my jaw until he’s sucking on my neck, leaving behind a mark that will be visible to the world. My hand lands on the back of his head, holding him there and encouraging him to suck harder. A deep, filthy chuckle rumbles against my skin as he obliges me.

“You have the key.”

Another quiet laugh leaves him as he strokes me with a feather-light touch through the wires of my cage. It’s enough to have me burning alive. “Thought we were done lying to each other, Micah. If you wanted to take it off, there’d be no stopping you. So tell me, angel. Why are you still locked up?”

“Because it’s what you wanted… no one else is supposed to… to touch me.”

“Do you want someone else to touch you?” His hand moves lower, cupping my balls through my pants as my knees spread, giving him room. “Choose your next words very carefully. You may be the forgiving type, Micah, but I'm no angel. I’m not above ending someone’s pitiful life for being the object of your fantasies.”

The threat shouldn’t turn me on even more, but my eyes roll back into my head and I moan as he emanates a low growl. “N-no… never. No one else, there’s no one else.”

“Why not?” He grips my caged dick again, giving me a rough jostle. “Who does this belong to?”

“It’s yours… only yours.”

His other hand wraps around my throat, caressing his palm up and down the column of my neck. “Say it like you mean it, angel.”

“It’s your cock, Xal.”

“That’s fucking right, it is.” I gasp as he grabs both sides of my pants and rips. The button flies and clatters against the floor as the material shreds. Snarling, he spins me and shoves me towards the tables, the wooden edge digging into my thighs. In an instant, he’s behind me, sliding my pants over my ass until I'm exposed. Rough fingers clutch the sensitive spot where my wings meet my back, and he forces me to bend over. He thrusts against my ass so hard he knocks me forward, my chest sprawling on the tabletop.

“Stay down, angel.” His growl is a low warning that makes the blood rush to my face as I try to lift my torso. My heart thrashes against my ribs like a trapped bird, the thrill of the fight sparking a fire in my belly as he wrestles me down. A warm hand clamps to the back of my neck, forcing my cheek against the table as a zipper whirs. “Stay right there with your ass in the air like the good little whore you are.”

A moan rips loose as he leans in and spits on my hole, his fingers tightening on my neck as his cock presses against me. “Should fuck you dry for what you did to me,” he mumbles as I hear the snick of a bottle cap. “Hurt you like you hurt me.”

“Xal, I’m sorry,” I whimper, but he shushes me.

“Don’t worry, pretty angel. You’ll have plenty of time to make it up to me.” There’s an obscene slick noise and cool dampness on my hole as he lubes us both. His hips drive forward, and I call out as he pushes inside me in a single thrust. “ Fuck , you get too tight when I’m not there to keep you open all night.”

My fingers dig into the table’s edge, my knuckles white as he pulls out and thrusts in again. He bottoms out with an obscene slap of skin as I arch my spine, offering myself to him. I want to fall apart by his hands, be torn into pieces and rewritten by his will.

I want to be his, body and soul, in every possible way.

“This is what I have to do to get you to listen, huh? I have to fuck the sense back into you?” The angle hits where it hurts so good, and the impact sends a jolt of pure, exhilarating pleasure through me. Days of pent-up tension coil in my core—scorching and wild, and desperate to break free. Xalreth clutches my wings, using them as leverage as he slams into me.

“Yes,” I gasp, “yes, God, yes—”

“Don’t you even think about coming yet,” he warns as he fucks me harder, jolting my body and causing the table to scoot forward, screeching against the floor in time with his thrusts.

“But… but I… fuck , I need to,” I whimper as his fingers clamp on my wings, hitting those nerves that send pleasure rippling through me like lightning. The sensation spiderwebs across my skin as my pulse thuds all the way to my toes, and I feel every drag of his fingertips over my feathers.

That part of me has always been guarded, never allowing another person to touch me there. Hell, I’ve never given my back to anyone, much less the vulnerability of my wings. But with him, it’s not even a question. It’s right.

“Not until you’re allowed,” he grits out, and I fight my body as I thrash my head in a nod. His movements falter, losing his rhythm as his hips snap against my ass. Skin slaps skin as he releases the most delicious chorus of uncontrolled, desperate sounds.

My name leaves him in a shout as he drives forward and pins me there. Warmth floods inside me as he comes, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to lose it. When his grip on my wings relaxes, he canopies over me and presses a kiss on my spine as he gives a few languid thrusts of his hips.

“I’m going to pull out now, angel, and I need you to hold all that inside you. Clench for me, okay?” A few drops escape as his cock slips free, and I squeeze my muscles as he drags his palms along my skin.

“You’re fucking beautiful, do you know that?” He sinks to his knees, pressing a series of kisses along my thighs and ass. I call out in surprise when his tongue drags a wet stripe over my balls, then travels up between my cheeks. He spreads me and licks across my hole, and I groan as I lose my grip. The warm rush of his release slides out of me, lapped up by his waiting mouth.

A feral growl rumbles from his chest as he spears his tongue into me. A million sensations attack me at once—the squeeze of his fingertips as he spreads me open, the tickle of spit and cum sliding down my skin, and the wet, filthy sounds he makes as he devours me. My core aches, begging for release as I grip the table harder.

“It’s too much, Xal… fuck, it’s too much.” He groans his approval as I grind against his mouth. Over and over, his tongue takes slow, deliberate passes over my hole before he plunges it back inside. My muscles clench tighter, not trying to hold him in this time, but trying to hold back.

A wicked chuckle vibrates against my skin as he grips my hipbones and stands. His hips snap forward, knocking a strangled shout out of me as he tunnels inside me once more. His fingers tighten as he moves me against him, drawing out until he’s barely inside me before slamming back in.

“God, you make the prettiest noises,” he purrs as he slaps us together, the wet sound positively obscene.

“Xal,” I moan, my whole body being jarred by the force of his thrusts. “Xal, I have to come… I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” My release slams into me as my muscles tremble, making a mess of my leg and the floor. He grunts and drives forward, his fingers leaving bruises as he fills me a second time.

I sag against the table with a shuddering sigh as his mouth and tongue leisurely drag over my skin, charting a lazy path of kisses. His hips rock, thrusting his release deeper into me as he coats every part of my body in his scent. I whimper when he pulls out, and it’s silent as his cum drips into a puddle on the ground beneath me.

He guides me to lie on my back, my wings tucking away as I roll. “Look at you,” he murmurs as his eyes rake my skin. My shirt hangs in tatters and my ripped pants pool around my ankles. He leans over me and presses his lips against mine, hooking his arm underneath me. Our kiss is never interrupted as he lifts me to sit on the edge of the table, and he stands between my knees.

“I missed you,” I whisper when he pulls back, and his expression gentles as he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Fuck, I’m an idiot, Xal. I never should have left.”

“And I never should’ve let you.” He presses another kiss to my lips.

“Did you mean it?”

His dark eyes land on mine and I feel their attention coursing through every vein in my body. “Did I mean what?”

A moment of fear makes me hesitate, but I push through it. “When you said you love me. Did you mean that?”

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, his fingers combing through my hair. “Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

“I’ve… I’ve never…” I swallow as emotion blocks my windpipe, but the words still come out cracked. “No one has ever told me they loved me.”

“Never?” He looks shocked as I shake my head. “How old are you?”

I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “Ancient. I lost count of the years long ago.”

“And you’ve never heard that you are loved?”

“No,” I whisper, and that softness that he only shows with me comes to the surface.

“Then I’ll make up for a lifetime of not hearing it, Micah. I will remind you every day what you’re worth. When you are close to falling over the edge, I’ll be the one to bring you to solid ground. Allow me to help you carry that pressure when it weighs you down. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I can try,” I whisper, voice shaky.

“Let me love you, angel.”

“Only if you’ll let me love you back.”

“You trying to tell me something?” he nudges with a sweet smile, and I nod as I wrap my arms around him and tuck myself into his neck, where his smokey amber scent surrounds me.

“I’m terrified,” I admit, and the weight of his heavy arms surrounding me is a comfort. “Loving you scares the hell out of me. But I do… I love you.”

“Well,” he says, pulling back and tilting my face up to his as his thumb swipes over my lips. “It’s okay to be afraid, as long as you don’t leave again.”

“I won’t, darling.” It’s a promise—an oath—and I carve it into my heart.

“I know you won’t.” Another smile crosses his lips, one that’s not quite as sweet as the one before it. “Because there’s nowhere in Heaven or Hell that you could hide from me now.”