Chapter Five Charlotte
Chapter Five
Charlotte
“Azrael. Azrael, if you don’t stop, I might . . .”
“You won’t die, little siren. Trust me.”
With how many times he’s devoured me, nearly driven me to madness, only to cruelly rip my pleasure away again, I’m not certain I believe him.
I’m so wrung out I can barely hold myself upright. He lies on the crypt’s stone floor beneath me, bearing the whole of my weight on his face, after he dragged me down from where I was hovering over him and ordered me to “fucking sit on it already.”
“You’ll taste even better once I’ve got you bucking on my—”
“I want that,” I gasp. “I want it a thousand times, sir.”
“A thousand?” He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “Then breathe for me, sweet girl.”
I inhale, sharp and fast, and the next thing I know, the hot weight of Azrael’s mouth is on me again.
He laps and tastes my pussy, until I’m grateful he told me to breathe and that for once in my life I actually listened.
If I thought Death stole my breath away whenever he looked at me, it’s nothing compared to how he tongue-fucks me when I sit on his face.
The way he indulges in me is unhurried.
A soul-shattering pleasure so intense I’m not sure I can survive it.
Azrael enjoys me like he’s got all the time in the freaking world, and he does—if the still unmoving snow is any indication.
Death’s in no rush to end my pleasure.
He’s going to take his sweet, torturous time.
His fingers dig into my hips, my ass, his tongue stroking over me in long, lingering laps, licks that cover the whole of my pussy until I’m coming apart.
Good God, how did I not realize his tongue is that freaking wide until now?
I fall forward, gripping hold of the tomb’s edges, shuddering and shaking, as I drop my head and moan again. The noises he’s managed to coax from me in a single evening are sounds that I didn’t even know I could make.
“You taste incredible.” His chest rumbles. He would happily drown in me.
I’m coming apart at the edges so hard I’m practically unraveling.
Azrael’s touch breaks me down to the fiber of my being.
Until there’s nothing left.
His grip tightens, his bony fingers digging into my skin in a bruising grip so that I’m forced to stay in place as I start to buck like I can somehow manage to escape.
It’s too much. It’s all too much.
“Azrael!”
“You can take it, sweet girl,” he growls, dragging me back down.
I can’t possibly survive this.
He hooks one of his big hands over my hip and yanks me even closer, shoving his fingers up into me and hitting that spot that I like as he drowns himself in me.
Death feasts on my pussy like he’s a starving man falling upon the altar of the gods.
Worships me with his tongue.
And I lose myself completely.
He bites and licks and nips as I buck and scream and beg for his mercy, all the times he’s brought me so close compounding until I’m shattered. So broken apart from the pleasure that if I were human, I’m pretty sure I’d just peacefully die here.
Wrapped up in Death’s arms.
I lose track of my own thoughts after that. All I’m capable of doing is existing. Living for the moments in between the laps of pleasure until I’m both everything and nothing all at once.
My sense of self ceases to exist.
Eventually, he rolls me onto my belly, lifting me on top of the stone sarcophagus again, and some distant, still conscious part of me starts to think that maybe this divine torture really is never-ending.
Maybe this is how it’ll all be over—I can’t think of a more perfect way to go, honestly—but then he suddenly releases me, and I’m vaguely aware of the metallic sound of his belt buckle before he—
Oh fuck.
The lash across my ass comes hard and fast, pulling me back down into my body.
“Goddamn it, Charlotte. Breathe.”
I suck in a harsh breath.
Azrael snarls, rolling me onto my back as I cough, my lungs burning. “I can’t allow you to lose yourself in me like that for long. Understand?” he growls, gripping my face once I’m inhaling steadily again.
I nod, still delirious, my eyes watering as I gaze up at him.
And the weight of who he is, of what he is, truly hits me.
Azrael is dangerous.
Very, very dangerous.
He pulls me into his arms, lifting me and dropping us both back onto the ground so that we’re slumped against the tomb. I straddle him and our eyes meet.
The hunger and total devotion I see there is everything I’ve been missing and more.
Like I’m valued. Like I’m worthy. Without expectation.
For the first time in the whole of my existence, with Azrael, I can just be.
Fade into nothingness.
One touch and it would all be over for me.
He tongues his chin clean, where his face is now drenched from me.
Before I can anticipate what he’s about to do, he throws me over his shoulder, carrying me down the mausoleum’s few steps and depositing me onto a patch of frozen grass before he drops his pants.
He throws our shared weight about like it’s next to nothing to him, and I can’t help but laugh at how he lunges at me, settling all that solid weight on top of me like he’s been starved of touch for centuries.
When we finally still, I’m smiling, my limbs loose and trembling.
The massive length of his cock juts between us. In the moonlight, a bead of precum glistens at the tip, and my mouth waters as I realize—
Holy shit.
Death’s cock is as big and wide as the rest of him.
“You can take it.” A slow, smug grin stretches across his mouth, and I relax against him before he rolls us.
I let out a startled eep as he leans against a gravestone and positions me on top so that he’s pressed outside me.
He wraps his dark wings around us, some of his long undercut hair falling into his face as he shields us from the wind, until it feels like we’re the only two people in the world. Him and me.
Death and the one who got away.
Slowly, he pushes into me, and my mouth pops open.
Holy fuck, he’s going to ruin me.
“I want to watch you take it,” he growls.
“Of course you do, you freaking stalker,” I tease, my words breathy. I nudge at his chest, playfully glancing down to where we’re joined, but only so he doesn’t see the emotions I’m feeling.
Azrael captures my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him, staring straight into my soul.
Too late.
He’s so solid and sure.
Like the ground beneath me.
Like if I let him, he’d be my anchor, the one thing that keeps my soul from drifting, even when everything else feels unsteady.
Even as someone else’s love untethers me from his earth.
Lifts me higher than I ever knew was possible.
Death chuckles, smacking me on the ass so hard I yelp, teetering forward and giving him just enough purchase on my hips so he can settle me onto his—
Holy shit.
It burns so sweet.
“Fuck, I love watching you,” he groans as he rocks slowly. A rush of heat slickens me as he works farther in, the words steeped in a deeper meaning that feels almost . . . terrifying.
My eyes dart to his.
I can’t hide what I’m feeling any longer, because I know that he feels it too.
That spark between us is doing more than flickering.
It’s been growing stronger every night.
Every moment he watches over me.
I lean forward and kiss him again, trying to infuse everything I want to say into the meaning.
I want you.
And also, I . . .
Think I might be falling for you.
But I’m terrified of what that might mean.
Azrael holds me, gripping the sides of my face like I’m his everything, his whole freaking universe, as he pushes deeper into me, until he sinks all the way in, until I’m so full of him I’m practically bursting.
Like we could breathe that shared spark between us into life together.
Like he’d let me.
Eventually, my muscles relax, the feeling transitioning from a slight burn to a throbbing ache until I’m so hot, so slick as he stretches me that I feel like I might break again.
In an entirely different way.
“You take me so well, little siren. You’re perfect for me.”
And it’s true.
We are perfect for one another, except . . .
There’s also someone else who’s just as perfect for me.
Someone who’s my whole eternity.
The fallen angel who’s my destiny.
The one I promised I would come back to, to submit myself to, completely.
And I still want that. More than anything.
But how can I ever keep that promise when now I can’t imagine living without the immortal beside me?
“Azrael.”
“I know. You don’t need to say anything.” He cups my cheek.
He rocks into me, entering and withdrawing inch by inch until I feel so torn between the impossible choice that’s been given to me that there are tears leaking out of my eyes.
Azrael moves slow and steady as he holds me, and yet somehow he still manages to swipe my tears away. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you. Let it all go.”
And I do.
I come apart in Death’s arms.
He guides my hips up and down, sliding into me over and over, making us both feel so full, so perfect and raw, I’m overwhelmed with the feeling.
The pressure inside me builds, a sweet, chilling ache, until I can see the whole of my path forward, of God’s plan for me, and all the emotions I’ve been holding back burst out of me.
The old me dies on a wave of pleasure that feels never-ending.
Azrael curses, but he doesn’t do anything to stop all the light and shadow that pours from my body unobstructed.
Instead, he simply follows along after me, thrusting hard a few times more as he groans my name, grounding me to the earth as the thick width of his cock coats my insides in warm, heady spurts and a trail of flickering spots lines my vision.
We’re nothing but stardust, he and I.
Teetering beyond infinity.
Into oblivion.
“Charlotte,” he moans.
I suck in a harsh breath, the sweet pain of my lungs causing me to cry out as I combust.
But Azrael’s right there with me.
He always has been. Right from the very start.
Even if I didn’t recognize it until recently.
He gathers me in his arms as I collapse against him, a constant string of sweet nothings and pleasure-groaned curses falling from his lips that I don’t comprehend completely as I realize I don’t think I’ve ever heard Death talk this much before.
The thought is so silly I start to laugh, the joy I feel bubbling up inside me.
He rolls us over so we’re lying in the grass side by side, sweaty and panting, pulling me into him, and we both fall headfirst into the abyss together so easily that it feels like every choice was always supposed to lead to this.
I feel it in every touch, every sweet and gentle word he whispers to me.
I’m in love with the Angel of Death and the devil.
Because for some love stories, death isn’t the end.
It’s just the beginning.