Page 15

"You cage yourself by thinking too much, Sera." I don't realize I have shut my eyes, or that I have begun to lean against the back of the couch until he says, "Good." He's in my head again. "Have you any idea how beautiful you are when you don't resist?"

Heat prickles up my spine. My hips lift instinctively, and though I know he hasn't moved from where he sits on the couch beside me, I imagine him kneeling in front of me, arms bracing against my thighs, eyes focused on my heat.

I clench, hard. Gods, I must have lost my mind.

"You're hot, aren't you? Achy, needy. I can smell you."

I swallow hard, fingers curling on my thighs. I can't seem to fight the need consuming me. It's him. He's doing this to me somehow and I can't fight it.

"Raise your gown, Seraphina." A command.

My breath catches and I suck in my bottom lip, feeling the silk between my fingers as I drag it along my skin until cool air caresses inside my thighs.

Shame curls in my stomach, but he whispers, his voice coming from somewhere lower this time, "Don't overthink it. It's just you. I won't look if you don't want me to. Or even better..." I feel the room darken, even with my closed eyes. He's turned off the lights.

My fingers graze my inner thigh more boldly and I exhale harshly as his voice, like liquid lust, pours into my mind. "Run your fingers over yourself. Just on the outside. Feel how warm you are."

I've never done this before. Touch myself to the voice of a man, following his every instruction, knowing he can very well see me do his bidding and enjoy it. It is dirty, mortifying and undeniably sexy.

My spine arches as my fingers trail over the damp heat of my panties. A shameful sound echoes in the room and I hate it. Hate how wet I am, how much I ache to push my panties aside and get this over with. Maybe then, I'll stop thinking about what it'd feel like for his lips to replace my fingers.

Needing more, I slip my fingers under, brushing against my clit unintentionally and my entire world thins to that small stroke. I bite my bottom lip to keep the moan inside but it escapes anyway.

"Slow. Explore yourself. You're too tense." His voice turns rougher. "You should be savoring it."

I press harder, my legs widening. My chest rises and falls faster now, the sensation twisting through me as hard nipples rub against silk.

Can't think, can't breathe fast enough.

"Fuck, that's it." I feel him shift on the couch. I wonder if he can see me with the lights off. To test that theory, I bring my free hand from where it grips the couch tightly to my breast and squeeze.

Soren makes a throaty sound that makes me want to do nasty things. Liar. Fucking, perverted liar. He's been watching me the whole time. I should be angry, but the thought only makes me hotter. "Circle it lightly," he says.

I ignore the order and push a finger inside. The pleasure is instant, sharp, spiraling and I cry out, riding through it, squeezing my aching nipples.

" Fuck ," someone swears. It might have been me or Soren, I can't tell, but Soren suddenly snatches my wrist, pulling my finger out of me.

I open my eyes to find glowing green eyes, livid and hungry, peering down at me. "You taunt me so wickedly, Sera."

"And you lie to me so carelessly," I pant. "Do you like watching me come apart, Soren?"

His eyes shutter and he releases my wrist. I know I won't get an answer from him, but I will find out anyway.

My fingers return between my thighs and I stroke, following Soren's instruction now to the letter. He sounds angry, but his voice is huskier. Still, he doesn't stop doling out orders and I take them, because I know he expects me not to.

And as the pressure builds, my eyelids flutter again. I see his eyes trained on where I stroke myself and pump my fingers in and out. I see his nostrils flare in the dark and I cry out his name on purpose as pleasure, white-hot, impossible to contain consumes me.

I shatter, dangerous, violent spasms overtaking my body.

I'm not sure how, but somewhere between clenching and moaning, I must've dozed off, because when I wake up again, I'm against Soren's fluffy pillows, tucked in tight with the man nowhere in sight.

Sometime after dawn, I wake again. The room is bathed in pale light and smells strongly of Soren's cologne. I'll never understand how he moves around without waking me up in the mornings.

I notice a small wooden box on the nightstand and I can't help the smile that grows on my face as I extract the note from underneath it.

"When our mates take in with child, it is expected that we gift them items embedded with protective runes for their safety. It is only tradition and superstitious, but I had this made specifically for you."

I open the box and take out the necklace. The silver chain is delicate, the pendant cool against my fingertips as I lift it. The rune carved behind is in the shape of an angel's wings and my chest tightens, something unfamiliar swelling there.

There's no way he knows that my mother often called me 'Angel.'