Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
His shocked inhale is almost—almost—enough to make me look at him.
“Eve?”
“I can’t think anymore.” It’s suddenly all too much. I close my eyes. “I know this is fucked on so many levels, Azazel. I shouldn’t be here.”
There’s no sound to indicate movement, but when he speaks, his voice comes from in front of me. “Are you doing this to help or to hurt?”
I shrug helplessly. “Both?”
His strained chuckle tugs at something in my chest. I don’t want to understand him. I don’t want to recognize that he’s just as out of his depth right now as I am. I certainly don’t want to admit that maybe he’s making the best of a shitty situation. “Is it me you want to hurt . . . or yourself?”
“Both,” I whisper.
“It’s a bad idea.” He’s closer. I swear I can feel the heat coming off his body now. “Every time I touch you, you resent me more.”
If only that were true. If only I hadn’t spent every night since that scene in the dining room fingering myself to the memory of him. Not his human version, for all that the sex was outstanding. No, when I slip my hand between my thighs, it’s horns, obsidian eyes, and a too-long wicked tongue I’m remembering.
I open my eyes to find him a few measly inches from me. It would be so easy to push this, to take control like I did last time. But . . . I’m tired. Scared. Shaky in a way I don’t know how to combat. “Touch me.” I suck in a harsh breath. “Please.”
As he reaches out to cup my face in his giant hands, I make my peace with the truth—in the morning, it won’t be him that I resent. It will be myself. For being weak in my desire. For wanting the person who’s responsible for upending my life.
That’s a problem for tomorrow.
Right now, Azazel lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me so sweetly, I might weep from the longing that springs to life in my chest. To be a different woman, with different fault lines. To be able to accept this and stop fighting. To do . . . a lot of things.
I break the kiss. “I can’t do soft. I—”
He bands an arm under my ass and lifts me until our faces are even. “If at any point you want to stop, say ‘stop’ and it ends. Do you understand?”
“Yes?”
This time, when he kisses me, it’s just short of violent. I moan into his mouth and enter the battle of teeth and tongues. Yes, this—this is what I need. He walks us across the room, and it seems to take forever, but I’m not curious enough to stop kissing him. Especially when he finally lays me down on his absurdly soft bed and moves back to kneel between my spread thighs, then undo his loincloth and toss it to the side.
The size difference really is absurd. The tallest person I’ve ever been with is six-five, and Azazel has a good seven inches on them at least, even without counting the horns. But he’s not gangly like a basketball player; he’s built thick and muscular, and holy fuck, his cock is huge. No, huge isn’t the right word. Did I say his thighs were ruinous? What a joke. His cock is the very definition of the word.
Even with the flicker of fear that curls through me, I can’t stop myself from reaching out and dragging a single finger up, up, up his absurd length. “You’re going to kill me with this.”
He huffs out a strained laugh. “Baby girl, I’ve seen your toys. You can handle it.”
I jolt, but I can’t begin to say if it’s from the pet name or the reminder that he has, in fact, seen me take a toy nearly this size. I’d completely forgotten about that, a little long-distance session we had a few years back. He’d purchased the toy for me, and I sent him a video of me using it.
I stroke his cock again, tracing one particularly prominent vein. Aside from sheer size, he’s a familiar enough shape—give or take some delightful ridges—and he’s got a wicked curve that makes my pussy pulse. “Any surprises here?”
“Not in the way you mean.” He drinks me in with his gaze and then shakes his head sharply. “But I’m forgetting something.” Azazel shoves off the bed and stalks naked to a cabinet against the wall. It’s impossible to take my attention from him, the long lines of muscles in his back, his round ass, the flex of his thighs and calves as he walks. Gods, he’s powerful to the point of beauty.
He returns, ridged cock a promise I am eager to fulfill, and dangles a pendant necklace before me. “This will ensure you don’t get pregnant.”