Page 44 of Unseen

“It does not repulse you?” I asked, gazing up at him.

Azriel shook his head, frowning. “There is not a single thing about you that is repulsive.”

I shifted beneath him, lifting my hip to rub against his stiff length, and he bit back a groan. “Perhaps…” I blinked at him shyly. “Perhaps you could show me what you meant when you said you wanted to see your cock between my breasts?”

His eyes flamed, and a grin passed over his lips. “For one who looks so innocent, what lies beneath is truly wicked.”

“It was your fantasy, not mine.” I took his face in my hands, wanting to take control for a moment, wanting to direct how ferociously I kissed him, wanting to nip and bite at his lips, tasting him and feeling his tongue sparring with mine. “But it is one I would like to indulge.”

He rose to his knees, running a hand down my chest, my stomach, before undoing each tiny button on my nightgown. He opened it slowly, savouring every inch of my skin as it was revealed to him.

“You are such a beauty, beloved. My own, perfect beauty.” He cupped my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples, which were so sensitive that even that touch had my sex clenching, my thighs strung together as I whimpered.

“You know that some women reach their climax simply from having their breasts touched? ”

I shook my head, heat erupting down my spine. “No, I did not know that.”

“Mmm.” Azriel lowered his mouth to my nipple, the very tip of his tongue probing that stiff peak.

“We shall have to try it sometime. Now.” He straddled my chest, gently, carefully, so as not to crush me beneath his weight.

“Where would you like me to spill upon you, beloved? You did so enjoy having it all over this pretty face.”

Another secret thrill, another thought that should not have delighted me so. “On my chest, as you dreamed it.”

His hand splayed over me there, his obscenely swollen member resting against me. “As you wish.” He spat into his hand, rubbing it over his sex. “This is much more enjoyable with oil, but we shall have to try that another time.”

“Alright.” My voice was suddenly small, and I obeyed as Azriel took my hands, pressing them to the outer mounds of my breasts and directing me to push them together around him.

With a jerk of his hips, he slid between them, and he hissed. “Oh fuck, Evie. Tighter.”

I pressed them together harder, and he groaned loudly.

Even though he was straddled on top of me, even though I felt so small beneath him, something about this position made me feel powerful. It made me feel as though I was in control.

He gazed down at me, a shuddering breath leaving his lips, rolling his hips and forcing his stiff length forward.

“So pretty like this,” he muttered, his voice strained with want.

“You take me so well no matter where, don’t you, my little viper?

” His hips bucked as I pressed harder, and warmth dripped onto my skin from the tip of his sex, aiding his movements.

“Oh fuck.” He hissed, bracing his hands against the headboard above me.

He was beautiful above me, beautiful and devilish and filthy. But this did not feel like being used. It did not feel like being an object, a thing. His possession.

No, this felt like something altogether different.

Watching him come undone was more pleasurable than I could have expected.

Every brush of my fingers against his tip, every hurried swipe of my tongue as he inched closer to me, elicited moans from his mouth that set my blood alight.

And the glee I felt at doing this to him, knowing I was doing this to him…

It was ecstasy.

“Oh fuck, Evie,” he groaned, and his movements became more feverish, his hips jerking rhythmically.

I was soaked now, his arousal smoothing his strokes as it leaked more and more.

He tangled a hand into my hair, his head thrown back, and I felt the tension take over his body.

My nipples were hard, my own body now aching to be touched, to be held and stroked and fondled to my own release.

The first hot spurt of his seed lashed my chest, and then he roared out my name as I brought my mouth down on him.

I swallowed every last drop of him. His salty taste lined my throat, and it only made my own arousal and need more acute. I rubbed my thighs together, seeking some friction, some pleasure, some release.

Azriel took the spend that had landed on my skin, and rubbed it over my nipples. I moaned around him, releasing him with a pop of my lips, crying out as he pinched hard.

“So pretty and needy, aren’t you?” He murmured, panting and grinning down at me. “It is a shame that you are bleeding, I would so love to ravish you now.”

His fingers continued to lavish my nipples with attention, and I squirmed and writhed under him, desperate for more but knowing we should stop.

The thought of a blood-soaked bed after making love made me heave suddenly, remembering how eagerly Acton had inspected the sheets the morning after our wedding night.

His lecherous triumph that he had made his little bride bleed.

I gasped, and shoved Azriel’s hands away.

“Oh god!” I cried, trying to turn away, and instantly his weight was off me, pressed to my back, his arms around me.

“Evie, it’s alright, I am here. I am here.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, putting my hands to my face. “Oh, I am such a fool. I am so sorry.”

“Hush, now.” He stroked my hair, kissing the back of my neck, my shoulders. “No apologies, not after that.”

“I should not have bad memories when we are in bed together.”

Azriel snorted derisively. “Should the ground not be wet when it is raining?” He rolled me gently on to my back, and stroked a hand over my hair. “Memories come as they come.”

“What does it say that I am in bed with you but remembering your father?”

“It says that I should have beaten the old bastard to death the moment he tried to marry you.” Azriel kissed my temple, stroking a hand over my naked chest. “You deserve better memories, Evie. And I should very much like to be the man who makes them with you.”

I sighed as I gazed up at him. “For a man who insists he is not good, you certainly speak as though you are.”

Azriel’s eyes dropped from mine, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“For you, beloved, I would try to be all manner of things I thought not possible. But only for you. That is my choice.” His eyes lifted back to mine.

“I choose to try, for you. To be better, for you. To be deserving of the woman you are. I had no reason to choose better for myself, until I had you.”

I swallowed hard, wanting to say more, so much more, wanting to allow myself to believe that he meant it.

I wanted to allow myself to trust him. But the fear of falling over that edge remained, and while I could feel that faint breeze, the one that had stirred that day when he had assaulted me in the bath and then held me like a lover, growing ever stronger, I was determined to keep it shut out.

At least a little. Just a little. Enough to allow myself the belief that I still had my armour on.

Instead, I drew him down to me and kissed him. And the faint breeze simply grew stronger still.