Chapter 26 #3
I hadn't been able to find underwear that wouldn't show lines through the silk. I'd figured it didn't matter.
It matters now.
"Fuck," someone breathes. Lysander, I think.
Seraph's hands tremble against my thighs. The Angel of Pride, trembling for me. Because of me.
"Look at her," he says, and there's something like reverence in his voice. "Look at how perfect she is."
I'm on display. Spread out on the table like a feast, my dress bunched at my waist, everything below bared for the angels around us. I should feel exposed. Vulnerable. Ashamed.
Instead, I feel powerful.
Seraph drops to his knees.
The sight of him, this ancient, prideful being kneeling between my thighs, makes something clench hard in my core. He looks up at me, eyes blazing, and I see the hunger there. The need. The worship.
"I'm going to make you come," he says. "And they're going to watch. And you're going to let them see what you look like when you fall apart."
I can only nod.
His hands grip my thighs and pull me closer to the edge of the table. I feel the cool air against my exposed flesh, feel how wet I already am, feel the anticipation coiling tight in my belly.
Then his mouth descends.
The first touch of his tongue is electric. A long, slow lick from my entrance to my clit, tasting me, savoring me. I gasp, my hips jerking, and his hands tighten on my thighs to hold me still.
"Easy," he murmurs against my sensitive flesh. "Let me take care of you."
He licks again. And again. Long, languid strokes that explore every fold, every curve, every sensitive spot. He's not rushing. He's savoring. Putting on a show for the others while he takes me apart piece by piece.
I can hear them breathing. Can feel their eyes on me. Croesus's hungry gold gaze. Lysander's half-lidded violet stare. Kael's burning ember eyes. Idris watching with their ever-shifting gaze.
They're watching Seraph worship me with his mouth. Watching me writhe and gasp and lose control.
And I love it.
Seraph's tongue circles my clit, light teasing touches that make me whimper. He pulls back slightly, breathes hot air over my sensitive flesh, then descends again with more purpose. The flat of his tongue presses against my clit, rubbing in slow circles that send sparks shooting up my spine.
"Oh god," I gasp. "Seraph—"
"That's it." His voice vibrates against me. "Let them hear you."
He seals his mouth over my clit and sucks.
I cry out. Loud and shameless, my back arching off the table. One of my hands flies to his head, fingers tangling in his perfect platinum braid, holding him against me.
He groans in approval and sucks harder.
The pleasure is building, coiling tight in my core, fed by the obscene sounds of his mouth working me, by the weight of all those watching eyes, by the knowledge that I chose this. That I'm letting them see me like this. That this power is mine.
Seraph releases my clit and licks lower, his tongue pressing against my entrance, teasing. He laps at the wetness gathering there, makes an appreciative sound that vibrates through my entire body.
"You taste incredible," he murmurs. "Like honey and sin."
"Less talking," I manage. "More—ah!"
He's slid one finger inside me. Long and elegant and perfect, curling to find that spot that makes my knees quake. He strokes it once, twice, watching my face as I come undone.
"More?" he asks.
"Yes. Please. Yes."
A second finger joins the first, stretching me, filling me. He sets a rhythm, fucking me slowly with his fingers while his tongue returns to my clit. Licking and sucking and stroking in perfect counterpoint to the thrust of his hand.
I'm climbing fast now. The pleasure is a living thing, building and building, and I can't think, can't breathe, can only feel.
"She's close," Lysander says from somewhere nearby, his voice rough. "Look at her. She's beautiful."
"Come for us, Raven." That's Croesus. His voice is strained, hungry. "Let us see you fall."
Seraph curls his fingers inside me and sucks hard on my clit at the same time.
I shatter.
The orgasm crashes through me like a wave, like a storm, like something that could tear me apart and remake me new.
I'm crying out, screaming maybe, my whole body shaking as pleasure wracks through me in pulse after pulse.
Seraph doesn't stop. He works me through it, licking and stroking and drawing out every last tremor until I'm boneless and gasping and completely destroyed.
When he finally lifts his head, his face is wet with my release. His eyes are blazing. And he looks like a man who has just conquered the world.
He withdraws his fingers slowly, and I whimper at the loss.
Then Croesus moves.
I didn't see him rise from his chair. But suddenly he's there, at Seraph's side, and his hand is catching Seraph's wrist. Lifting those two glistening fingers toward his own mouth.
Seraph goes still.
Croesus holds his gaze as he slides Seraph's fingers between his lips.
He sucks them clean.
Slowly. Thoroughly. His gold eyes never leaving Seraph's silver ones. His tongue working over every inch of skin, tasting me on another man's hand.
The sight is so erotic, so unexpectedly devastating, that I feel another pulse of pleasure shoot through my oversensitive body. I make a sound, half-gasp, half-moan, and both angels turn to look at me.
Croesus releases Seraph's fingers with a wet pop.
"She tastes like starlight," he says. "Thank you for sharing."
Seraph stares at him for a long moment. Something passes between them, something I can't read. Old history. Complicated feelings. The strange bond between beings who have been at odds for millennia but are now connected through me.
Then Seraph moves.
He pulls my dress back down, covering me with gentle hands. Lifts me from the table like I weigh nothing, cradling me against his chest. I'm still trembling, aftershocks running through me, too overwhelmed to do more than cling to him.
"We're leaving," Seraph announces. "You can pick up the check."
"Worth it," Dorian says, and there's laughter in his voice.
"More than worth it," Lysander agrees. "Seraph, you have hidden depths."
"I have many depths." Seraph is already moving toward the door. "None of which are your business."
Kael opens the door for us without a word. His ember eyes meet mine for a moment, and there's something like respect in them. Acknowledgment.
I turn my head to look back as Seraph carries me out.
Croesus is still standing where we left him. And the expression on his face is something I've never seen before.
Peace.
Not hunger. Not possessiveness. Not the endless aching want that seems to define him.
Just peace.
Like seeing me come undone, like being allowed to share in even that small taste, has given him something he's been missing his whole life.
The door closes behind us, and Seraph carries me out into the night.
I press my face against his chest and let the world fade away.
One night without the world ending.
We managed it after all.