Chapter 5
ELYSIA
Fresh blood stains Malcolm’s shirt where I press against him, but I don't care. I can't care about anything except the way his mouth moves against mine when I completely close the distance between our lips, desperate and gentle all at once.
"Elysia," he breathes my name like a prayer. "Your wings. We shouldn't—"
I kiss him again, cutting off the doubts he's about to voice. Haven't we both had enough of "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts"? Those rules led to my best friend breaking my fucking wings and shoving me out of Heaven. Perhaps it's time we play by our own rules.
Malcolm groans against my mouth as he lifts me off the ground, and suddenly I'm in his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist while he carries me toward his bed. Toward the bed he’s let me use all week while I’ve been healing.
My wings ache at the movement, but the pain is distant, unimportant compared to the heat of his skin against mine.
He lays me on the bed with impossible tenderness, hovering over me like he's afraid I'll break again. Like there aren’t two demons he just killed with his bare hands lying lifeless on the ground on the other side of the room.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice rough. "After what you just saw—"
"I saw you protect me," I say before he can finish the thought, running my fingers along the lightning tattoos covering his arms. "I saw you choose me over your own.”
"I'll always choose you." The words seem to surprise him as much as they do me, but I can feel the truth of them in both his touch and his tone.
Then his mouth is on mine again, and words become unnecessary. His tattoos glow brighter, until he's limned in lightning, beautiful and deadly and mine.
My hands roam over Malcolm's chest, tracing the intricate patterns of his tattoos. They pulse with energy beneath my fingertips, sending shivers through my body. I arch into him, craving more contact, more of his touch.
Malcolm's lips leave mine to trail kisses down my neck, making me gasp when he nips at my collarbone. My fingers find his hair, tangling between his dark locks. The ache in my wings fades to nothing compared to the burning need building inside me.
"Malcolm," I moan, tugging him closer. "Please..."
He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes darker than I’ve seen them. "Tell me what you want, Elysia. I need you to say the words."
"You," I breathe. "All of you."
A low growl rumbles in his chest as he hungrily captures my lips again. His hands slide beneath my shirt, leaving tingling trails of electricity in their wake. I fumble with the buttons of his bloodstained shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
As the last button comes undone, Malcolm shrugs out of his shirt. I drink in the sight of him, all lean muscle and glowing tattoos. My hands explore every inch of exposed skin, marveling at how he trembles beneath my touch.
Malcolm's fingers ghost along the edge of my wings, sending a jolt of both pleasure and pain through me. I gasp, arching into him.
"Is this okay?" he asks, voice low and throaty, but I don’t miss the concerned undertone.
I nod frantically. "Please don't stop."
His touch grows bolder, stroking along my sensitive feathers as his mouth reclaims mine.
I'm lost in sensation, drowning in the feel of him.
Nothing else matters– not Heaven, not Hell, not the rules we've broken or the consequences of today that are yet to come.
There's only Malcolm and me, and the fiery tornado building between us.
My fingernails dig into Malcolm's back, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. The sound ignites a primal urge within me, and I roll us over, straddling his hips as I gaze down at him. His eyes widen in surprise, then darken as his gaze travels down my face.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, hands sliding up my thighs.
I lean down to kiss him, biting his bottom lip between mine while rolling my hips against his.
The friction sends waves of pleasure through me, and I moan into his mouth.
Malcolm's hands find the hem of my shirt, tugging softly.
I break the kiss just long enough to help him pull it over my head, wincing slightly as the movement jostles my injured wings.
"Are you alright?" Malcolm asks, worry etched on his face.
I silence him by rocking against the hardening bulge in his pants. "I'm perfect," I breathe against his lips. "Don't you dare stop.”
His hands explore my newly exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shiver as his fingers trace the curve of my spine, brushing the base of my wings. The dual sensation of pain and pleasure is intoxicating, and it’s already threatening to drive me over the edge.
Malcolm sits up suddenly, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me. His mouth finds my neck, kissing and nipping a path down to my collarbone. I let my head fall back, giving him better access as I thread my fingers through his hair.
"Elysia," he pants against my skin. "I need you."
"Then take me," I challenge, meeting his dark gaze.
Before I can process what’s happening, I'm on my back again, Malcolm hovering over me.
His tattoos pulse with energy, casting an ethereal glow over us both.
He kisses me fiercely as he works at the leggings he bought for me the second day I was here.
I lift my hips, helping him slide them off along with my lace panties.
I reach for his belt, but he catches my wrists in his large hands, pinning them above my head. "Let me worship you," he murmurs, eyes burning with intensity.
My breath catches in my throat as Malcolm nips and licks down my body, sending jolts of electricity through me with each touch.
When he settles between my thighs, I can't hold back what I’m feeling.
My wings flutter involuntarily, as Malcolm's tongue finds my clit.
He sucks it into his mouth, rolling it around while he moans against it, sending deep vibrations through my core.
“Of fuck,” I whimper, squirming beneath his hold.
I lose myself in the sensation of him devouring me, all thoughts of Heaven and Hell long forgotten.
He slides his tongue through my folds, wetting them even more before slipping one of his thick fingers inside me, curling it at the perfect angle as he pumps it in and out of me.
Once I’ve adjusted to once finger, he inserts a second, stretching me in preparation of his cock.
Malcolm’s tongue laps at my clit while his fingers fill me.
He picks up the pace to match my breathing, making me lose control.
“I’m going to come,” I cry out, still squirming, but getting nowhere under his strong grip. “Oh God, Malcolm.”
He hums against my clit in response, and I come undone for him. Stars form in the corner of my vision as I climax, letting the euphoric high thrum through my body. The walls of my pussy tighten around him, and then relax once I’m coming down.
Pleased with himself, Malcolm kisses his way back up my body as I try to catch my breath. When his lips meet mine, I can taste myself on his tongue. It's fucking intoxicating.
"I need you," I pant, fumbling with his belt. "Now."
Malcolm chuckles softly, helping me undo the clasp before shimmying out of his own pants. Then we're skin to skin, and I'm overwhelmed by the heat of him, the undeniable buzz of his tattoos against my flesh.
"Elysia," he breathes, lining himself up between my thighs. "Are you sure about this?"
In answer, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer until his cock is pressed against my entrance. "I've never been more sure of anything."
With a groan, Malcolm pushes into me, slowly, carefully. I gasp at the feeling of fullness, and for a moment, we're perfectly still, savoring the feeling while my pussy adjusts to his size.
Then Malcolm begins to move, and coherent thought becomes impossible. There's only the pressure building low in my stomach, the sparks of pleasure radiating from every point of contact between us. My wings unfurl of their own accord, spreading across the bed as waves of ecstasy wash over me.
Malcolm sets a slow, torturous pace, his hips rolling against mine in a sensual rhythm. I cling to him, nails raking down his back as I lift my hips to match his movements. The pain in my wings fades to a dull throb, overcome by the pleasure coursing through my body.
"Malcolm," I plead, arching into him. "Faster, please..."
He obliges, picking up the pace. The room fills with the sound of our gasps and moans, accentuated by the crackling energy of Malcolm's tattoos. They glow brighter with each thrust, casting shadows on the walls.
Malcolm's lips find my neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin below my ear. I throw my head back, giving him better access as he pounds into me. It’s too much. I’m going to come again.
"Elysia," Malcolm groans against my skin. "You’re so fucking tight."
His words send a shiver down my spine. I wrap my legs more sturdily around his waist, urging him deeper. "Come with me," I pant. "Don't stop until we come together."
Malcolm's thrusts become more erratic as he nears his peak. He slips a hand between us, his fingers finding just the right spot to send me spiraling over the edge. I cry out as pleasure takes over, my wings spreading wide and trembling with the force of my release mixing with his. Malcolm empties himself inside of me, using my pussy to milk himself until there’s nothing left.
He collapses beside me, immediately pulling my body tight against his as we find our way back to reality.
We lie tangled in sheets that smell of lust and lightning, my head on his chest as he traces patterns on my bare shoulder. Shadow appears from wherever she'd been hiding during the chaos, jumping onto the bed with an accusing meow.
Malcolm chuckles, the sound rumbling under my ear. "Oh, now you show up?"
"She has good timing," I say, reaching out to scratch behind her velvety ears. "We’re safe now."
But even as I say it, I know it's not true. The bodies on the floor, the demons who will come looking for their missing soldiers, the fundamental wrongness of what we are to each other—none of that has changed. We're in more danger now than ever.
Malcolm's arms tighten around me, as if sensing my thoughts. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"I know." And I do know, with a certainty that should frighten me. This man who was meant to be my executioner has become my protector, feeling more like a sanctuary than a member of Hell. "But what about you? They'll know it was you who killed them."
"Let them come." His voice is hard. "I've killed for duty before. Now I'll kill for something that matters."
I push up on an elbow to look at him, studying the fierce protectiveness in his expression. "We barely know each other."
"I know enough." He cups my face in his hand, thumb stroking my cheek. "I know you're stronger than anyone who tried to break you. I know you see beauty in things others would call monstrous. I know that when you smile, it feels like a sunrise in my chest."
Tears burn behind my eyes at the raw honesty in his voice. I’m careful as I lean toward his lips, making sure I don’t stretch my back too far and re-injure my slow-healing wings. "And when did you decide to become a poet?" I tease, then press a soft kiss to his lips.
"About the time a fallen angel came crashing into my life." His smile fades slightly, and his tone changes. "We should leave. Tonight. I have a safe house in the mountains where—"
"Tomorrow," I whisper against his lips. "Let's have tonight. No one will come looking for them until late tomorrow anyway. We’ve got time."
He hesitates, searching my eyes for reassurance, then nods. "Tomorrow then."
I settle back against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Shadow curls up against my hip, purring contentedly. Outside, a wolf howls at the rising moon, wild and free and unafraid.
Perhaps that's what we are now—wild things, breaking free of the cages Heaven and Hell built for us.
I drift off to sleep in the arms of my demon, feeling like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.