Chapter Four Charlotte #2
“No,” I lie, glancing away.
He tsks at me. “This only works if you’re honest, Charlotte,” he warns, his hand suddenly brushing my throat.
A threat and also a . . .
A dark promise.
In my ear, he says, “Be a good girl for me.”
I flush, my face filling with heat.
He’s so quick with the praise that I don’t even feel like he expects me to earn it.
He just wants to give it to me.
Make me feel good.
Even when I don’t deserve it.
“All right,” I admit reluctantly, my face even hotter than it was previously. “I am.”
“Of course you are, baby girl. You’d never be anything other than honest with me, would you?”
My breath catches. “No, sir.”
Azrael smiles. He’s the one in control here and doesn’t even need to punish me in order to get my submission. “Then lie back. Don’t think,” he orders, gripping my chin like he can already see the doubt rising in me. “Eyes on me, baby girl. Just let me make you feel good. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Azrael growls appreciatively. “Sweet girl.”
I lie back and do as I’m told.
Fate and the apocalypse be damned.
I relax onto the cool marble stone as Azrael trails a hand over my belly.
“I’m sorry I made us—”
“Shhh. Hush.” He reaches up, his muscled forearm flexing as he gently holds where my chin meets my throat. My heart and my pussy ache in tandem. He drags a rough thumb over the edge of my lip before his hand drifts back down again.
I’m so ready for him I’m throbbing.
“Don’t you ever apologize to me for prioritizing your needs.
Understand?” He pushes my legs farther open, hooking my knees over the solid width of his shoulders as he rubs his thumb up and down my center.
I arch into him. He locates my clit easily, greedily massaging it with the slickness that now coats his fingers, before he slides them in and out of me.
Small touches meant to taunt and tease. A haunting prelude of what’s to come.
But I want the whole dark ending.
“Azrael,” I pant.
“Unh-uh, sweet girl.” He makes another low sound, his grip on me tightening. “You will not rush me.”
“Yes, sir,” I whimper just as his inky black wings swing forward and those impossibly soft feathers start to brush over me. My breasts, my stomach, my shoulders, until . . .
He bends down to his boot and whips out one of the blades he carries, shoving the hilt up inside me despite that the sharp side is now . . .
“Azrael,” I gasp.
Blood drips from his palm, but Death doesn’t appear to care. He makes a low, pleasured sound deep in his throat, his head lolling back in enjoyment, before that same hand starts to . . .
“I like pain.” He chuckles, the blade now tight in his hold, before the flesh on his fingers is just gone suddenly. “But since it concerns you . . .”
I stare down at that skeletal hand, each thrust of his knife making me wetter.
I throw back my head and cry out as Death slowly destroys me.
“That’s my girl. You’re so soaked for me.” He cups my mons with his flesh-covered hand, his thumb probing me, even as the hilt of his sharp knife continues to—
“I love it when you shiver for me like that. Stop for a moment just so I can look at you, okay?”
“Okay,” I rasp, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
It takes everything I have in me then, but somehow, I manage to go still beneath Death’s gaze.
“Azrael,” I beg a moment later, sounding even more needy.
All his praise and attention are like torture. Sweet, sweet torture.
So good, but also . . .
More than I can withstand comfortably.
“Ride it,” he orders, his gaze flicking back to where his skeletal hand still holds that dangerously sharp knife. “Ride it like you would his cock.”
I know without asking who he means. Lucifer.
I start to rock up and down, sliding over the blade’s hilt, my thrusts growing slicker by the minute until I’m breathing heavy.
“You like that, don’t you? When you’re a little afraid of me? When you’re turned on just enough it doesn’t feel like danger?”
I nod, shivering.
“Fuck, Charlotte. You’re perfect. So fucking beautiful. Did you know that?” He works one of his skeletal fingers up inside me along with the hilt.
And I practically come up off the tomb from how its ridges make me clench.
Azrael’s touch redefines what pleasure is.
The thrill of danger.
And for a moment, I struggle to think straight as he waits for me to answer him.
I want so badly to say yes, to be the confident woman he’s encouraging me to be, but some deep, insecure part of me can’t help but be one hundred percent truthful when I’m pinned beneath Death’s gaze.
Those cold blue eyes really do lay me bare.
“Sometimes,” I whisper, like if I say it softly enough, maybe he’ll take pity on me.
He tsks, shaking his head like that disappoints him, and the way that singular sound haunts me is somehow a thousand times worse than any punishment I’ve ever endured from Lucifer. I never want to disappoint Death ever again.
I’ll be a good girl, the only good girl he ever needs.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. We’re going to fix that,” Azrael whispers, the gravel of his voice soothing me. He dips another one of his bony fingers inside me, rocking the blade hilt back and forth, as he finds that exact spot like he . . .
Like he’s been watching me and Lucifer when we—
I cry out, nearly losing it.
“Fuck, are you going to squirt for me?” Death chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.
“Azrael, I . . .”
I don’t even know what I need.
I can’t make sense of up or down. What words mean.
Azrael’s touch is unraveling me.
Like he’s pulling my soul apart, even as he puts me back together.
I pant as he removes the blade, dropping it to the ground with a hollow clatter, the flesh of his hand returning with a flick of his wrist as that skeletal face of his flashes.
His flesh is like a mask he wears that reminds me of who he is—what he is.
“You like that too, don’t you? My real face? The way I scare you?”
Breathless, I pant, “Yes.”
He circles his thumb over my clit as I remember at the last second to tack on his address so I don’t disappoint him again.
“Yes, sir,” I correct myself.
I stare up at him, eyes pleading.
Death’s grin is slow and deliberate. A little like someone else I know. “We have all the time in the world, Charlotte.” To prove his point, he gestures at the darkened graveyard and snaps his fingers.
He’s frozen time.
My eyes widen.
He’s frozen time for me.
The snowflakes that were falling only a moment ago hang suspended in midair, trembling at the command of the ancient primordial in front of me.
Just like I am.
“I promised I was going to savor you, and I keep my word, understand?”
I nod, my chest rising and falling in slow, fearful pants.
Just being with Azrael is a kind of breath play.
“Good girl,” he purrs again, lowering his mouth to me. “You’re such a good, good girl for me, aren’t you, little siren? So perfect. Look at you, all wet and needy for me. But you can also be a rotten little slut, can’t you?”
Abruptly, he yanks my ass over the edge of the grave, so that I’m suspended, held upright only by his skeletal hands. Death buries his face in my cunt. “Now cum all over my face like I’ve watched you do for your other daddy.”