74. Levi
LEVI
My time in the military made me a hypervigilant sleeper, so I’d considered it a small miracle I slept so well beside Violette a couple of nights ago. But somehow sleeping the whole night through while sharing one bed with two other people is inconceivable.
Yet here I am.
Being awakened solely by my raging hard-on, and not the two other people snoring softly beside me. Violette’s horns and wings are glamoured away, likely out of fear of causing one or both of us grave injury in her sleep, creating a little more room.
Her brow is tense, lips tilted on a tiny frown. My eyes slide to Azrael, whose neck finally looks halfway healed and is curled against her back, wearing an identical expression.
It’s almost adorable, but leaves me feeling...
confused. While my possessiveness remains alive and well, somehow, the jealousy that once consumed me has dissipated.
Perhaps it’s because this fucker severed our bond.
Or maybe it’s because, despite my best efforts, I’ve grown to appreciate Azrael to some degree.
I can’t fucking help but empathize with him, and admire the way he maintains a certain lightheartedness.
How he finds the humor, no matter how heartbroken.
Still manages to be kind even when the other person doesn’t deserve it.
He reminds me of Beau in that way, which only endears me to him more.
Although, also like Beau, I have no doubt that when pushed, Azrael has the potential for violence and cruelty. More than most, I imagine, if the darkness lingering behind the ever-present sadness in his eyes is anything to go by.
Or the ominous shadow of his watching us from the corner of the room.
Another trait I appreciate.
I roll onto my back, inwardly groaning.
Fuck, this is weird.
A glance down at my dick tells me he doesn’t think this is too weird.
I slide my hand beneath the covers to readjust myself just as Violette scoots closer and drapes an arm over my abdomen. Her fingers rest directly against the head of my dick, where I’ve tucked it into the waistband of my boxer-briefs.
My arm is now trapped between the side of my thigh and both of hers.
As if needing to have every inch of his body touching hers, Azrael tightens his arm around her, and, guessing from the movement beneath the sheets, nudges his hips forward. I think I even feel his toe touch my ankle. I can’t really be sure.
I expect the thought alone to make my skin crawl.
To my surprise, it doesn’t.
Violette gives a soft, unmistakably needy whimper.
My cock responds by hardening to the point of pain. And, as if she’s tuned into the same frequency, her hand slips into my underwear and palms the length of my cock.
My abs tighten, right along with my balls, as my hips give a barely restrained thrust. I glance over to look at her, still wearing that sleep-softened tension in her brow.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I can feel the little pool of pre-cum forming on my abdomen—and her fingers—as it gradually cools.
The V between her heavy breasts, where, not one, but two buttons seem to have popped open in her sleep, tests my willpower.
I can even see the top of one areola peeking at me, the hardened little bud subtly tenting the silk fabric.
The sheets rustle again as Violette wiggles her hips back against Azrael, and what I have zero fucking doubt is his erection.
Previously dormant jealousy roars to life.
Before I even have a chance to think, I’m pulling Violette against me and rolling her onto her back.
She doesn’t startle, but her eyes open halfway.
Her attention shifts from me to Azrael as his eyes open and dance between the two of us, expression unreadable.
Violette’s gaze returns to mine as she allows me to unfasten the few remaining buttons of her sleep shirt, voice hoarse from sleep. “What are we doing?”
She doesn’t resist when I tug her pajama pants down. The moment she’s free of them, her legs part—like a flower in bloom—to reveal her glistening center.
And because I’m feeling particularly possessive, I summon a ball of saliva to my lips and spit on her clit.
I don’t know what we’re doing, but...
“You are cumming.”
Because of me.
Lubricated by my saliva and her own arousal, my thumb sweeps over her entrance before massaging teasing circles around her clit.
Her breath punches out of her as her stomach tenses, and she whimpers.
“Oh, fuck…”
My eyes roll back on a growl.
Fuck, I need her.
With one hand, I tug my boxers down my hips to liberate my cock. It sways heavily above her, where I continue to massage her clit.
Her hands reach for her breasts, squeezing and teasing her nipples.
Shaking my head, a dark chuckle rises from my chest as I recall her words the first time I met her.
“You’ll take what pleasure I give you, and you’ll like it.”
Her mouth pops open in surprise.
My gaze shifts to Azrael.
“Hold her wrists.”
His eyes darken as a slow grin spreads across his face, baring the tips of his fangs.
With a deep hum of delight, he shifts to sit up, leaning back against the headboard as I pull Violette further down the bed until her head is in his lap.
The back of her head is resting on the long, thick outline of his cock still trapped in his pajama pants, though there’s a wet spot from precum at his hip.
Azrael binds her wrists in one large hand as I slide two thick fingers inside of her. Her back arches, and she lets out a soft cry, straining against our hold as her hips rise to meet me.
With one hand, my thumb continues to gently stroke her clit, slick and drenched in her arousal, as the middle and ring fingers of my other hand firmly caress her G-spot.
Azrael, with his free hand, cups one of her breasts, teasing the nipple to a hardened peak. Some of my jealousy flares, but I only have so many hands, and my satisfaction at the sight of her being given pleasure supersedes it.
His voice turns darker than I’ve ever heard it. Intimate.
“Look how beautifully she behaves when you take control…”
For some unfamiliar reason, instead of inwardly cringing, it makes me feel that much closer to him.
“You love this, don’t you, Vi?”
Her gaze lifts from where my fingers work her to meet mine, and while she doesn’t vocalize it, the answer is clear. It’s written in every blissfully taut line of her face and body as she hurtles towards her orgasm.
She wants to give away her control, too. She’s just never had anyone she trusts enough to submit to.
It doesn’t take long before Violette’s pussy begins to flutter and spasm around my fingers as her body tightens at her approaching release. Her brow tenses in helplessness, gaze holding mine as she whispers my name in a way that belies her need, her want, her helplessness.
“Levi…”
It’s another bittersweet reminder of just how helpless I am to protect myself against this woman.
Like a seedling being nourished by the sun and soil, I can feel my adoration for her growing in my chest. It is both terrifying and blissful, and further heightened as she allows me to witness her complete unravelling.
Violette gives a keening cry, and her squirt follows a moment later, drenching my cock and the bed beneath.
The moment it wanes, I withdraw my fingers, pinning her thighs to the bed as I lower my mouth to her entrance, licking her from ass to clit to clean her up with long, firm passes of the flat of my tongue.
“So fucking sweet when you wanna be, aren’t you, mia rovina?”
My gaze lifts to find her and Azrael riveted by the sight of my efforts. She gives me a breathy reply. “For you.”
Oh my fucking god.
Those words.
Are almost too much for me to bear.
The gravity behind them is everything that I want from her.
And my heart squeezes at the truth of it. The only other person I can imagine her potentially being this vulnerable for is the God of Death behind her.
Reverence fills Azrael’s hooded eyes as his gaze drops to her face.
“Do you realize how perfect you are, little seraphim?”
A look of subtle surprise alights her features as her eyes lift towards his. When his hand roams from her breast to collar her throat, giving it a gentle but possessive squeeze—it isn’t jealousy I feel.
It’s arousal.
And a strange newfound sense of unity.
Things I’ll have to analyze later, but can’t exactly find the desire to as Violette’s hips writhe in counter to my efforts, telling me she still needs that clitoral orgasm. I bring my lips to her clit and suck, flicking my tongue against it as I do.
Cradling her hips between my palms, my fingers press into her flesh as I pour every ounce of my devotion into my ministrations, all while groaning and growling like a mindless beast as my hips thrust against the bed.
Heat radiates from Violette’s body as her body grows rigid again and she angles her hips upwards, spreads her legs a fraction wider.
“Gods, fuck, yes... Levi... Az…”
The sound of his name on her lips as she’s coming is still something I’ll have to adjust to, but as I wait for the jealousy to hit, I find it’s in vain. In its place is just a wholly unfamiliar contentment I don’t know what to do with.
Violette’s cry of release is a sweet, breathy, wimpering—vulnerable—sound that makes my chest tighten with emotion even as my cock throbs with need for release.
When her body sinks back into the bed as she descends from her climax, I rise above her and take my dick in hand.
The look in her eyes is softer and more sated than I’ve ever seen her, all while Azrael showers her with his praise and strokes her hair back from her forehead, dotted with perspiration.
His attention shifts—lingers on the sight of my hand working over my cock. When his gaze lifts to mine, there’s a question there that I’m not ready to answer.
“See how fucking needy you make us? Look how his cock weeps for you.”
As if to affirm his statement. A string of precum stretches from the crown of my dick, down to her pussy.
Azrael’s gaze lingers on Violette, whose eyes are hooded with lust as she watches me stroke my length. “Do you think he deserves to cum?”
A grin teases Violette’s face as she nods, lazily twirling a strand of her hair around one finger, and she widens her legs in invitation. “If he’s restrained, too. I think it’s only fair.”
Her words make my heart stutter, and as if she knows it, that hint of a grin turns wicked enough to reveal the tips of her fangs.
“Hold his wrists.”