45. Chapter Forty-Five The Seraphim’s Dilemma
Chapter Forty-Five: The Seraphim’s Dilemma
Maverick
As Tess trailed her glowing fingers up and down my arms, I stared at her, trying to stay present. Her skin felt divine. Not literally—most of the seraphim that I’d fucked felt as droll as the humans—but she did something to me. She made me feel some kind of way I’d never felt, not in thousands of years.
I’d had thousands of lovers, and they all elevated me to king of their world. Being with Tess made me feel like a lowly farm boy. With her, I understood what Wesley did for Buttercup in The Princess Bride. “As you wish, my love.” I hadn’t uttered the phrase. I couldn’t. I also couldn’t go away and come back more powerful than what I already was for her.
It had to be a trick.
She had to be a new kind of seraphim hunter trying to get her claws in me. They’d never used whores before, and I had no defenses for it.
The strategy was genius, and an insult to my intelligence.
She felt made for me, but she was made for torturing me. She came to show me what perfect ecstasy felt like, and then she’d drag me to Hell, and I’d never see her again.
The mere idea made me squirm with revulsion.
“Are you okay?” she asked, voice soft and unsteady. Her pupils were dilated, her features tense, and she shuddered.
I schooled my expression, trying not to grit my teeth too much. I didn’t want to tip her off that I knew who she was. Not yet. “I’m… hungry. Are you hungry?”
She bit her lip, the indecision thrumming from her. It went straight to my cock, twitching. Readying. Her lip twisted and pulled against her incisors, beckoning me to devour her again.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
“Not really, but what do you have in mind?”
I swallowed a groan and ran my hand over my head.
Tess couldn’t be seraphim.
Definitely not a hunter.
She was human.
A witch. The glowing thing was a mystery, but it didn’t have to mean the worst.
This mystery was tearing me apart, the way I swung so wildly from one theory to the next. If I didn’t find balance soon, I’d lose my mind completely. Taking a few days away from her was out of the question. I couldn’t bear it. But I could lock her up until I figured it out.
I snatched her wrist and rose up, holding both hands above her head. She screeched, a look of total devotion in her eyes mixed with trepidation. The fear I ate up greedily like a feral thing. She pulled her legs out from under me, wrapped them both around my hips and squeezed, eliciting a moan from deep inside me.
Fuck, now I’m hard again.
“Tess…” The prayer-like tone in my voice angered me. This feeble, hesitant nothing she’d made me into—it was such a foreign sensation. I wanted to kick it away and gather her in my arms harder, but they were mutually exclusive decisions.
One or the other.
Choose Maverick, and choose wisely.
I wouldn’t lock her up yet. Not until I knew she deserved it. If she was innocent, I didn’t want to fuck up what we could have. It was a delicate situation, but I had to keep her. I couldn’t lose her.
She’s still waiting for an answer. What was it again?
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really. What do you have in mind?”
I smiled and licked my lips. “You.”
She went slack, letting out a sigh of deep satisfaction. I’d never known a lover to mold to my whims so perfectly. She was submissive in only the ways I wanted her to be, begging to be conquered but not squashed. Owned but not abused. She was perfect.
No other lover would do for me.
Never again.
Even if she was seraphim, I’d keep her. She might think she came to bring me back to Hell, but I’d seize her instead and make her mine. If I kept her well-fucked and delirious, she’d learn to never want to leave my side.
She might have been humoring me when she called me master, but once I had her trained, she’d be dead serious and begging for more.