Chapter Angel
Angel
Dane finding me at a party and shoving me into his car hadn’t been on my bingo card, but there I was.
I didn’t just land on the seat; I was forced into it.
The leather was cool, a sharp contrast to the humid chaos I’d just been ripped from.
Before I could even find my breath, he slid in and the driver’s door slammed shut without sparing me a glance.
He shifted into gear and peeled out, the tires screaming in protest against the pavement. The force pinned me back, my fingers fumbling with the seat belt as the neighborhood blurred into a smear of lights.
It wasn’t until we hit the highway that my shock curdled into indignation. I folded my arms across my chest.
“Not the best first impression,” I grumbled, fixed on the passing blur of streetlights.
He remained a silhouette of rigid muscle. He was ignoring me, but he occupied the space so completely, it was impossible to look away. My eyes failed to get the memo, fixating on his white-knuckled grip on the wheel before I dared to drink in the rest of him.
He was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at—all sharp angles and repressed violence. Ink slithered out beneath the cuff at his wrist, and I itched to see the rest of it. As he exhaled, a low, rough sound, his nostrils flared.
He didn’t turn his head, but the air in the car suddenly felt twice as heavy.
“You smell like fucking dessert.” The sound was even darker in person than it had been on the phone—a deep, resonant bass that vibrated through the seat and straight into my bones. “That maniac bastard.”
My heart skipped. “You know Kade?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw—a tell of a long-standing, weary kind of anger.
“Foster care,” he clipped out. “I’ve spent a lifetime cleaning up his messes. He doesn’t have a lick of impulse control, and he clearly spent the last hour with his face buried in your neck.”
“He was scenting me, too.”
My words were met with silence, and I didn’t know who was more irritated—him or me.
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. He’s had his time with you tonight. Now you’re mine,” he rumbled. His knuckles cracked, and even though the broken part of me flinched, the bratty part of my soul that was being nurtured refused to back down.
“You do know this is kidnapping, right?” I asked.
Instead of a reprimand, he chuckled—a low rumble that sent a tremor of need through my fingers.
I wanted to crawl over the console and press my ear to his chest just to hear it.
I turned, desperate to see him. His eyes crinkled like crescent moons, a dimple flashing in his cheek.
He looked like the sun, and for a second, I feared I’d burn.
Then, in a flash, his hand was a vice on my jaw.
The laughter vanished. In its place was a wall of steel-gray authority. My pulse kicked into overdrive as he drank me in, his eyes hungry and dangerous.
“Oh, Babygirl,” he growled, a ghost of a smile returning to his lips. “How can I kidnap something that’s already mine?”
My heart flip-flopped in my chest as his words soaked in.
He didn’t just hold me; he possessed me.
I tried to pull back, my chin lifting and jerking in defiance, but his grip was a wall of iron.
For three heartbeats, I fought the pressure, my breath hitching as I stared into those steady, gray eyes.
I wanted to snap at him, to tell him I didn’t belong to anyone—but the heat radiating from his palm was a sedative.
My resistance didn’t break; it dissolved, leaving me soft and pliable under his touch.
My jaw went slack, not in defeat, but in an admission I wasn’t ready to voice.
His thumb smeared over my bottom lip, pulling it down until his eyes darkened.
He faced forward, but his hand moved to the back of my seat, his fingers ghosting near my hair.
“Da—”
“I don’t remember asking you to speak,” he cut me off, his eyes flickering to mine.
I wanted to throw a fit and get on my knees at the same time. The “broken” parts of me were being drowned out by a heat that made my skin hum. “I think I’ve got more to say,” I countered, though my voice lacked any real bite.
Dane’s hand returned to my neck, his thumb on one side and his fingers on the other, a loose but possessive collar. “I have better use for that mouth of yours.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I rasped.
“Only to the sassy one sitting next to me.” Those steel eyes promised the truth, and a whimper escaped me before I could catch it.
“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “Making those sounds won’t work on me.”
“What did I do?”
“The fact that you don’t understand only strokes my anger, Babygirl. Now, shh. You’ve said enough.” He rubbed a soothing circle into my skin with his thumb, a predatory lullaby. “Are you going to be good for me?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
The phone in my hand was a lead weight, a tether to a world that didn’t matter anymore. I let it slip from my fingers, hearing it thump on the floor mat, forgotten. I didn’t need it. I only needed the man next to me.
“Good. Now unbuckle my pants and pull my cock out.”
My eyes widened at the blunt command, but I didn’t hesitate. The sound of his zipper wasn’t a promise of pleasure; it was a threat, a metallic rasp that cut through the quiet of the car and demanded my absolute obedience.
My fingers were eager. This felt way too natural for a first meeting, as if my body had been waiting for his orders for years.
Usually, the broken parts of my soul screamed when an Alpha got close, but with Dane, there was only silence.
His demand for control skirted every boundary I’d built from my trauma.
A heavy heat drowned out the noise, warming my belly and spreading south.
It was as if his authority acted as a shield, protecting me from my own memories.
I reached beneath the fabric, my greedy fingers wrapping around him.
He was massive. Straining.
“Knots,” I whispered in awe.
Dane’s face remained a hard wall of restrained intensity as I pulled him out.
I was determined to break that mask. My lips parted, my mouth watering as I stared at him.
He was perfect. My fingers wrapped around his girth, but my hand couldn’t close around him.
He was the size of a soda can. I struggled to hold in a moan.
“What’s wrong? Cat catch your tongue?” Dane asked.
“No, I-”
“Let’s not pretend you don’t know what to do with a cock,” he teased, his voice husky.
“It’s not that. It’s just…” I trailed off, my fingers tracing the underside. “You’re even bigger than the pictures.”
“Sweet words won’t get you anywhere with me,” he chuckled, though his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Suck my soul like a good girl, and I’ll give you what no one else has been able to.”
Before I could ask him what that was, his hand on the back of my neck tugged me down.
I scrambled to my knees in the seat, lowering my lips to his tip.
He tasted like toasted marshmallows, campfire, and pine—the scent of freedom.
My Omega instincts screamed he must have smelled divine.
I used my tongue to flick the slit that oozed with pre-cum.
“That’s enough teasing, V,” he growled. His grip turned punishing as he shoved me down on his cock. My lips spread, stretching until they threatened to rip, as I took him in my mouth. Dane was the thickest, longest man I’d ever had. My jaw hurt, and I hit resistance.
My eyes watered, and my throat burned when I hit my max. I couldn’t take him all the way—not yet—but I didn’t pull back. I wanted every inch.
“Fuck. I want to look at you,” he gritted out. “I bet you look pretty with my cock in your mouth. Tell me, do you have tears streaming down your cheeks?”
“Mm,” I hummed around his girth.
“Shit,” he cursed, his free hand white-knuckling the steering wheel.
I lifted off of him, inhaled when his cock wasn’t blocking my airway, and took him again.
In this position, my ass cheeks were exposed.
His hand slid down my back, fingers over my backside ever so slowly.
My thighs shook with anticipation. Saliva dribbled as I used my fingers to lather his knot, cupping him while I ground against his monster cock.
“You were made for me, weren’t you?” Dane asked.
I hummed around him, and he let out a guttural sound. My body jerked as his hand came down hard on my backside. The sting was a live wire, waking up parts of me long dead. I widened my legs as far as the seat allowed, sucking him with a desperate, needy greed.
“You like that, don’t you, Babygirl? You like it when Daddy spanks you,” he growled.
He didn’t need an answer; the wetness seeping onto the leather was enough.
I hadn’t been this wet in so fucking long.
His hand moved from my backside, his palm smacking against my pussy with a sharp crack.
I jerked forward, arching as I took him deeper than I ever had, my throat constricting until he groaned.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. He rewarded me with two fingers, hooking deep inside me, matching the rhythm of my mouth, and gave me the anchor I craved.
He pulled his hand out to spank me again—I saw stars—then thrust back in, his thumb finding a new territory at my entrance. My pussy and ass clenched, and a low, rumbling growl vibrated from his chest. He was pleased.
The car accelerated, the engine roaring as his fingers sped up. My orgasm towered, seconds from scaling when he abruptly pulled his hand away, leaving me yearning.
“You’ll come when I allow you to,” he hissed. His nails scraped my scalp as he gripped my hair, tilting my head back to thrust into my mouth.
“Is this how you sucked the last guy?” he growled.
I whimpered, a gargled sound of submission.
His anger was a drug; the sharp pain of his grip, a need.
He’d said he wasn’t angry about the others, but his punishing thrusts told a different story.
He fucked my mouth, erasing everyone who had come before him, a silent claim that mocked his own high Snarl score.
He acted as if I were the only one—a lie I was too far gone to care about.
His thrusts didn’t splutter as he got closer and closer to coming.
If anything, they became harder, faster.
“You’re a dirty whore, aren’t you?”
I stared up at him in the dark, vibrating around his girth. The car rolled to a stop, the tires crunching on gravel as he slammed it into park.
“I’m going to come all over your face, Babygirl. I’m going to mark you as mine and you’re going to like it,” he gritted out.
He pulled out, his length glistening in the dashboard light, before burying himself one last time and withdrawing. He held me by the hair, forcing me to watch as warm, heavy heat painted my face.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised.
And just like that, I was putty in his fucking hands.
Thoroughly used, edged, and denied, yet completely satisfied.
He released me, and I sank back into the seat, my lids heavy.
My door opened, and before I could move, warm arms enveloped me.
He lifted me into his strong embrace, and as my head lolled against his chest—for the first time in years, I felt safe in a man’s arms.
Dane’s warmth enveloped me, and though my lips were swollen and my throat ached, I snuggled closer. My nails dug into his flesh. Even through the hazy consciousness, his strength was absolute; he didn’t hitch me up or struggle with my weight once. He just held me—steady, unyielding, and effortless.
Then the darkness shifted. Men were scrambling around us. Dane froze. The steady rhythm of his stride snapped to a stop. I saw them before I heard them.
Abort!
My mind turned off, and I was a spectator in a movie of my own life. Scenes darted by—armed guards, heads bowed. Pieces snapped together. Guards meant military, but bowed heads? That meant respect. To Dane.
I caught flashes of grand rooms, dark stairways, and dimly lit hallways. I was intoxicated, but I wasn’t making this up. This wasn’t a base. Something scratched at the furthest corner of my mind: Pack.
It didn’t make sense. Dane was a Sergeant, and they lived in tiny rooms on base with other men—not in grand estates with armed guards.
Is this his home?
Is he mated?
A tear escaped without my permission. He couldn’t see me weak.
Before the darkness took me, a blanket of softness met my back. I sank into the way-too-comfortable mattress of his bed. My lids grew heavy, locking on the steel-gray crescents of his eyes staring down from above. Angels had halos. He had none. Where was the light?
A rumbling sound, like gravelly laughter, vibrated as the bed dipped under his weight. He wrapped me in his warm embrace.
“Oh, Babygirl. I’m no angel,” he growled.
Then nothing.
No dreams.
No chains dragging me into the past.
No monsters chasing me.
No gasping, pleading for air.
No clouds.
No rain.
No Amos.
And then, there was light.
The shift hit me before I was even fully awake.
My body was an inferno, my thighs tensing and toes curling.
I was slick—soaking the sheets. The fog of sleep and jello shots evaporated, replaced by a sober, razor-sharp focus.
My fingers gripped thick, luscious hair as I slipped into the present.
I was breathless, the flick of a tongue on my clit captured my full attention.
“Ah!” I cried out.
My eyes snapped open to find a beast of a man between my thighs. One of my legs was hooked over his shoulder, and a tatted hand gripped my breast. Gray eyes locked onto mine, but he didn’t stop; his tongue licked up the length of my spread lips.
“Dane,” I gasped. His mouth wrapped around my clit and electrical pleasure shot through my core. It was different now—overwhelming. His expert tongue drew an infinity symbol on my clit while his fingers pounded in and out of me. I was so fucking close—I could taste it.
“Good. Feels so good,” I whined. The hand on my breast pinched my nipple. Wet, obscene sounds of him devouring me filled the room as I thrust my hips toward him. His fingers sped up, driving me over the edge. Then I was coming harder than I had in my life.
“Dane!” I moaned. His eyes remained on mine as he sucked up every drop of my orgasm until my hips were jerking, my thighs twitching. When I was spent, he lifted his head, jaw glistening.
Total satisfaction consumed me as I stared down at him. The monsters were gone, and in their place was a devil who worshiped with his tongue.