Page 7 of Tempting Azagoth (Angelic Shorts #1)

INTEL

DELILAH

D elilah’s panties stuck to her pussy, sending heat racing to her cheeks every time she shifted on Azagoth’s lap. She didn’t know what came over her. But when he’d kissed her, fire boiled in her veins, her resistance folding as easily as a piece of paper underneath the assault of his mouth on hers.

And she’d wanted more . Each brush of his tongue and its odd texture tightened her nipples and made arousal drip from her, wetting her panties. And Satan help her, but the press of his cock had felt divine, stroking her in all the right places as she’d rocked on top of him. None of it had been in her plans or intentions.

It was him. He has to be doing something to me.

The flicker of regret was faint, and she ducked her head down further when the front door creaked open, heavy footfalls landing against the floorboards. They halted less than a foot away.

“You have a human,” a melodic voice called out, pulling her gaze upward. Her eyes widened.

He’s beautiful .

The sunlight streaming in kissed every defined angle of his face and eyes the color of molten gold peered at her curiously. Golden hair had been brushed off his face, and the color complemented his bronze skin tone. He’s exactly what she’d imagined an angel to look like.

Azagoth stiffened beneath her, and she dropped her gaze. She’d stared at what was no doubt another Fallen while her panties were still damp from coming against his cock.

“I do. You have what I asked for?” Her Fallen spoke in a clipped tone, fingers pressing into her skin as tension crept into the small room.

“I do,” the other Fallen replied before stepping closer. A growl rumbling from Azagoth’s chest forced him to shift to the right instead of aiming for the left, where he’d nestled her in his arms. His free hand shot out for the brown manilla folder she’d missed in her earlier perusal. The exchange was quick and fraught with an underlying edge of danger. Two very dangerous beings appeared to stare each other down while she cowered on the lap of one of them.

“And my payment, brother ?” the still unnamed Devil growled. Her skin pebbled with fear. She did not want to get caught in the middle of whatever standoff she’d accidentally caused. Azagoth’s arm bracing her dropped to fumble around in his pocket, pulling out a vial of—Fog?

An opaque substance floated in the vial with weird symbols carefully drawn across the cylindrical piece of glass.

She stared at it as he offered it to his brother, who finally grinned at the odd container.

Like it was invaluable, the Fallen carefully extracted it from Azagoth’s open hand. Hunger etched lines into what she’d originally thought was a handsome face, twisting it into something dark and predatory. She flattened herself even more into Azagoth’s arms. He chuckled, rubbing a palm up and down her back.

“A pure soul, as promised. Now, get out. You’re scaring my human.” She turned her face until she’d buried it in his chest, not wanting to see the other Fallen’s reaction to that incendiary comment.

A pure soul? She thought with a jolt, listening to the retreat of heavy feet. They’re Devils. Of course, they barter with souls. So, what’s in the folder? She cut her eyes at it, resting innocently on the cushion next to his thigh.

What could be worth a soul?

AZAGOTH

Rage simmered just below the surface of his skin, despite having everything he wanted within reach. Delilah’s rump rested above his still erect cock and the folder containing names and photographs of select members of Satan’s Chosen laid near his left hand.

And yet he fought back the instinct to chase after his brother, rip his wings out of his back and drive a heaven forged blade through his un-beating heart. Only weapons hammered out in the fire that’d originated from God’s breath could inflict lasting harm or bring about the true death to a celestial. All weapons made by man or demon-kin were useless, even if wielded by another angel.

“What’s that?” Delilah asked, pointing at the folder and bringing him out of the wrathful haze warping his mind. Squeezing her tighter, he leaned down and inhaled deeply of her scent, letting it soothe him.

She’s mine. Even if she found my brother attractive, she’s in my arms and I made her come, not him.

He lifted the folder, thumbing it open to the first name. Tension stiffened her back, and he felt her thighs squeeze tighter.

She recognizes him. Good. That means Ananiel’s intel is correct.

“T-t-hat’s Prince Noah,” she stuttered out, fear lacing her words. With the hand on her back, he channeled soothing emotions through her, carefully manipulating her aura until she relaxed in his arms again.

They’ll never touch what’s mine so long as they live. And they won’t be living for much longer.

“That’s good to know, lamb. He’s one of three in this folder that I intend to pay a visit to. Each one is high ranking among Satan’s Chosen. I intend to cull the herd if you will,” he said, placing a kiss to her temple, hoping it’ll put her even more at ease. Her face jerked to his, wariness and hope flashed in her eyes.

“Why?” she asked softly as if she truly didn’t know the answer. He dragged a thumb over her bottom lip, abandoning the folder.

“To protect you. I’m sure after the first, second or even fifth death, they’ll get the message.” Delilah Juno was off-limits to Satan’s Chosen or Azagoth would slaughter them all. Woman, child, it made no difference to him. As a celestial, he’d purged many under God’s command. Why would being a Fallen cause him to deviate and select his victims based on age or sex?

Nephilim children hadn’t been spared.

He inwardly flinched at the reminder of the pain some of his brethren suffered over the death of their children. What was the human saying, “war makes monsters of us all?” Naturally, no one spoke of what happened when the soldiers were already monsters long before entering battle.

“I’m not worth the trouble,” Delilah whispered so low his ears twitched, his supernatural hearing picking apart her words. He jerked his neck to the side, feeling it crack and hoping it’d help the rising aggression abate. It didn’t. Without his command, his wings folded around them, the sharp outer edges scraping the softer inside, tearing feathers free as they formed an intimate bubble for him and Delilah.

Some would pay a fortune for the feathers falling to my feet.

He tipped Delilah’s chin up with the point of one claw. Desire, fear, and fascination warred for dominance on her face.

“Don’t ever speak of yourself like that around me. Do you hear me?” His lips pulled back, showing a flash of fang. “You’re mine and you’re worth what I say you’re worth. And right now? You’re worth over a hundred lives. To spare that kind heart of yours, don’t tempt me into proving that fact to you. There’s only three men on my list. I’ll add to it if you make me.” His eyes narrowed as hers widened. She quickly shook her head, sending her dark hair swinging around her shoulders.

He cocked a brow, silently demanding an explanation.

If she says she’s not mine, I’ll make her think again.

“I—Okay,” she said, blinking at him with a stupefied expression. He snorted .

Good girl. You know who you belong to.

He smiled, ordering his wings to spread once more to allow light and air in. His lamb was like a flower in need of nurturing. No one ever said Fallen were nurturers but he’d do whatever he needed to in order to keep his prey.