Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Ending the absolutely insane day he’d had by having sexual relations with an angel seemed pretty fitting to Seymour. After all, the very thought of sex with an angel sounded completely bonkers as it zoomed through his head, even though it was very real and literally moments away from going down.
Which, of course, now meant they needed to have a chat.
The chat about the sexual relations.
God, who really said that?
Sariel, obviously.
Seymour gave Sariel’s hand a squeeze. “Let’s go ahead and get the boring stuff out of the way.”
Sariel seemed curious. “Is there a boring part I am not aware of?”
“Yeah, like figurin’ out who’s takin’ the top bunk.”
Sariel stared.
“Do you like to give or receive?” Seymour clarified. “I usually—” Always. “—prefer to bottom, but I’ll be happy no matter what.”
“Ah, I understand.” Sariel smiled. “My preference has always been to give.”
Thank fuck.
“Okay.” Seymour nodded. “Now it’s just tradin’ labs.”
Sariel stared again.
“Labs? Testing? As in, when was the last time?” Seymour realized by Sariel’s confusion he needed to spell it out for him. “When was the last time you got tested for STIs? Or do monsters not gotta worry about monster gonorrhea?”
“Oh!” Sariel shook his head. “Those from the Celestial are impervious to human disease.”
“Okay, what about Celestial diseases?”
“There are none that I know of.”
“All right, so—”
“We can be afflicted by some rare curses, however. A few poisons, potions, and of course, the bonds of a demonic deal.”
Seymour laughed. “Got it. Okay, but we’re fine to do this without, uh, protection?”
“My home is very safe.”
“Without a condom.”
“Oh!” Sariel blushed furiously. “Yes. But I do believe a safe word may be needed.”
“You like it kinky, Daddy?”
“I am not sure what qualifies.” Sariel caressed Seymour’s cheek. “But I have frightened previous partners.”
“Why? Is this about you bein’ a not so secret Daddy?”
“I do enjoy being in charge, but as I become more passionate… I may also appear more monstrous.”
“But I’ve already seen you.” Seymour thought about how Sariel’s skin appeared to writhe, and then he wasn’t so sure. “Haven’t I?”
“Not all of me.” Sariel looked at their joined hands. “I do not want to scare you, Seymour. I wish to only bring you pleasure.”
“I trust you.” Seymour surprised himself with how easy that was to say.
He’d gone to bed with people he’d only known for a few hours. If he was being honest with himself, those couplings had served only to seek a momentary and brief satisfaction. Some of his partners, while beautiful, he hadn’t even really liked that much.
But Sariel…
Sariel was something else.
And Seymour wanted him more than anything.
Seymour kissed him, eager and passionate, and he dug his fingers into Sariel’s hair.
It was soft, thick, and he gave it a small tug just to hear Sariel moan in surprise.
It was thrilling to know he could get to Sariel like that—he had a literal angel moaning for him, and nothing had ever sounded so sweet.
Sariel growled suddenly, and he threw Seymour into the middle of the bed.
Holy fuck.
Sariel climbed on top of him to pin him in place, his eyes bright. “Safe word, Seymour.”
“Yes, sir.” Seymour grinned as his heart thumped. “How about cherub?”
Sariel snorted, but he smiled. “Cherub it is.”
Seymour kissed Sariel, going for Sariel’s tie and loosening it. It dissolved in his hands and he pulled back to see that Sariel was already completely naked. “Right. So. You’re not actually wearing… clothes?”
Sariel blinked. “No.”
“Okay. Well, that makes things pretty easy.” Seymour laughed, grabbing at his own shirt to peel it over his head.
Sariel lunged at the exposed skin, and he immediately latched on to Seymour’s nipple.
The sudden suction and press of Sariel’s teeth made Seymour gasp, and his shirt got tangled around his arms. It was still stuck on his head, but he was far too busy basking in the heat of Sariel’s mouth to function.
Sariel’s teeth seemed to go on and on, and his tongue was incredibly thick.
Seymour had never considered his nipples to be particularly sensitive, but whatever Sariel was doing created the most intense bolts of pleasure.
Each one went straight to his dick, and he bucked upward, seeking friction as he finally got his shirt off.
“No.” Sariel pushed Seymour’s hips down.
“Mmm, c’mon,” Seymour pleaded.
“Patience,” Sariel said firmly, his eyes and halo bright. “I will not rush this. I wish to savor it.”
“You say savor. I say torture.”
“That is not correct.” Sariel turned his head to lick Seymour’s other nipple.
“Daddy likes to take his time. Got it.” Seymour shuddered, his body twitching from the new wave of pleasure. He really did try to hold still, but Sariel’s mouth was too damn good. He groaned, his hips jerking upward again. “Fuck.”
Sariel gazed at Seymour, giving his nipple another teasing lap. “Are you intentionally disobeying me? Or do you wish to be punished?”
“Uh.” Seymour’s mind reeled. “What gets me off faster?”
“Is that your only goal?” Sariel sat back on his knees, looking Seymour over. “An orgasm?”
“That’s definitely the idea, ain’t it?”
“And what if I said it is the journey that I enjoy?” Sariel slowly untied Seymour’s boots. “Not the destination?”
Seymour didn’t think anyone in the history of the universe had ever taken this much time to remove footwear, and he longed to kick each one off across the room. He waited, however, taking a deep breath before replying, “Well, I’d say that’s up to you. Seein’ as how you’re in charge.”
Sariel seemed pleased by that, and after removing Seymour’s boots, he peeled off each sock with an equally maddening lack of haste. “Yes.” His eyes glowed, and his voice dropped low as he purred, “Daddy is.”
Seymour’s chest heaved, and a surge of undiluted lust punched right through his loins.
He wanted Sariel inside of him, whatever that meant, and he wanted it right now.
He’d never known anyone who truly had such a dominating presence, whose very voice commanded immediate compliance, and Seymour was practically melting into a puddle.
It was a stark contrast from the sweet and often oblivious man he met in a cemetery.
Here, in this bed, the angel was calling the shots without question.
“Yes, sir,” Seymour replied automatically, licking his lips.
“Good boy.” Sariel smirked, and he unbuttoned Seymour’s jeans. He went for the zipper next, and he pulled it down so that the click of the teeth sounded like firecrackers in molasses.
Seymour grabbed the sheets as he panted, his cock aching where it remained trapped by the ever-tightening denim. He nearly cheered when Sariel pulled his jeans off at a nonagonizing pace, and he was now left in nothing but his boxer briefs.
Sariel stroked Seymour’s knees, thighs, and hips, using his palms to map out every inch of bare skin.
His wings flickered into view, so long that they stretched out across the bed on either side of him.
A seam filled with golden light opened up in Sariel’s cheek, likely the start of the transformation he’d wanted to warn Seymour about.
Instead of being scared, Seymour was delighted.
It probably took Sariel a certain level of concentration to maintain his human form, perhaps even for the angelic one Seymour had already seen. Knowing he was enough to make Sariel lose that control was thrilling, and he was excited to see Sariel in his full monstrous glory.
Sariel slid his thumbs under the waistband of Seymour’s boxer briefs so he could finally—yes, fucking finally—remove them.
Seymour’s cock bobbed and twitched in time with the frantic thump of his heart, and he dug his fingers into the blankets. He spread his legs, an invitation, and took himself in hand to squeeze down around his balls. “Well, here we—”
“Did I say you could touch yourself?”
Seymour grunted, letting go immediately. “No, sir. I’m sorry. I just want you so fuckin’ bad.”
“You will have me. When I am ready for you to.” Sariel moved over Seymour to claim a deep kiss.
Seymour wrapped his arms around Sariel’s neck, hooking his legs over his hips.
He loved feeling the full length of Sariel’s bare torso pressing against his own, so hot and firm, and he did his best to resist grinding like a horny teenager.
It was nearly impossible with how Sariel kissed him, so he let himself have one teeny, tiny moment of rutting.
Sariel growled.
Seymour instantly stilled, his breath catching in the back of his throat.
Fuck.
Sariel pulled away then, slinking down Seymour’s body as he taunted, “Simply couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“No, sir.” Seymour grinned. “Does this mean I’m gettin’ punished?”
“Yes. Yes, it does.” Sariel settled between Seymour’s thighs and pushed them apart. He dove forward, swallowing Seymour’s cock down to his balls in a single swoop.
“Fuck!” Seymour grunted and clenched his teeth.
Sariel’s mouth was nearly scalding, the suction bordering on painful in the best way, and Seymour was having trouble figuring out how this was a punishment.
There was a faint crack, and Seymour felt Sariel’s mouth down at his taint even as he continued to swallow down every inch of his cock.
It was as if Sariel had two mouths now—or maybe it was two mouths inside one set of lips?
The sensation was impossible and strange, but there were definitely two tongues.
One curling around his dick and the other lapping at his hole.
Holy fucking hell.
Or should that be heaven?
Seymour let out a moan he didn’t even know he was capable of making, and he strained to get a better look at what Sariel was doing.
It appeared to be a normal enough blow job from his current perspective, though there was no way that Sariel could have also been tongue-fucking his hole at the same time.
He noticed then there was also a distinct lack of teeth, as if whatever Sariel’s mouth had become was nothing but smooth flesh.