His Angel: Chapter 16
Something’s pulling me—wet, warm, relentless—and my eyes snap open to sunlight stabbing through the blinds, my breath hitching hard.
Everly. My little troublemaker.
She’s between my legs, lips wrapped tight around my cock, sucking me deep like she’s starving for it. Jesus, this woman’s gonna kill me before breakfast.
I groan, hips jerking instinctively, shoving myself deeper into that perfect mouth. She doesn’t flinch—takes it, eyes flicking up to mine, all heat and defiance under those lashes. Her tongue swirls, teasing the tip, then dives back down, throat flexing as she swallows me whole.
My hand’s in her hair before I can think, fisting it, guiding her—fuck, no, she’s guiding me, and I’m already half-gone, head spinning, blood roaring.
“Morning, baby girl,” I rasp, voice gravel and smoke, still thick from sleep. “You trying to choke on me first thing?”
She hums—fucking hums, and the vibration shoots straight to my balls, tightening them up. My grip hardens, pulling her closer, and she gags, just a little, eyes watering. That sound, that look, it’s a goddamn drug, and I’m hooked, veins buzzing with it.
“Maybe this is me getting my revenge.” She swirls the tip of her tongue around the sensitive head, and I’m pretty sure she can kill me by doing that alone.
“Revenge?”
“Hmm-hmm.” There’s that hum around my dick again. “For waking me the same way.”
“Oh.” I bite my bottom lip as she takes me deep, my balls retracting. “You’re referring to the night you woke up with my tongue on your cunt.”
“The night you broke into my house.”
“You mean the night I broke your virginity.”
She drags her tongue from base to tip slowly, eyes trained on mine, and I suck air through my teeth. “Careful, now, troublemaker. You’re setting the bar of expectations real fucking high with morning cock-sucking.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.” I shoot her a cocky grin, and she narrows those beautiful, mismatched irises, then gets her revenge by flicking her tongue, teasing the tip, then driving down.
I curse loudly, head slamming back into the pillow. “Fuck. You’re gonna kill me,” I snarl, guiding her now, thrusting shallowly into that heat. She gags just a little, eyes watering, then hollows her cheeks perfectly for me.
“You’re a greedy little thing this morning, aren’t you?” I mutter, half-laughing, half-losing my mind. The sheets are tangled, sweat-soaked, still smelling like sex and chlorine.
Last night floods back. Pool water churning, her blood on my tongue, mine on her lips, her pussy clenching me dry. It was a frenzied fuck that had us blindly seeing fucking stars. I’d bitten her until she bled, and she’d taken it, given it back tenfold.
Now she’s here, waking me with this, and I’m losing my mind all over again.
My free hand claws the mattress, nails digging in, ’cause if I don’t hold something, I’ll flip her over and plow her into next week.
“You like that, huh?” I growl, watching her work—lips red, swollen, stretched around me. “Waking me up with my cock in your mouth? Say it, baby. Tell me you love it.”
She moans instead, soft and needy, and dives faster, sucking harder, nails digging into my thighs. Red lines bloom, and I hiss, pain sparking, bloodlust stirring. “Fuck, you’re too good at this. You’re gonna make me blow already.”
Her eyes lock on mine, mismatched irises gleaming with wild lust, and it’s that look that undoes me. She owns me, this woman, and I’d burn the world to keep her here, like this, forever.
I’d lie, too.
My grip tightens in her hair and my hips buck, control slipping, and I’m thrusting now, shallow but rough, and she takes it—takes me—deep, gagging again, tears streaking her cheeks.
“Fuck!” I roar, craning my head back, eyes rolling closed, my grip so tight in her hair her scalp has to be fire, but I don’t care. Not when my balls are tightening, my shaft swelling, the entire fucking universe gripping my cock in her mouth.
“Don’t swallow.” My words snap like a whip. “Keep it in your mouth. You hear me? Hold it.”
She nods, barely, and my fist tightens in her hair, yanking until her moan buzzes against me, and I’m thrusting, wild, sloppy, into the slick, velvet heat of her mouth, her tongue a wicked lash stroking me raw.
My muscles tighten, my shaft rock hard, her throat squeezing me, silky and hot. Then it hits—pure, molten pleasure, a tidal wave scorching from my balls up my spine, drowning me in gold.
My cock pulses, unloading in thick, shuddering spurts, her gag humming through me like a symphony.
She struggles to hold it, cum leaking down her chin, and I pant, “Jesus, that’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Shaking, I sit up, grab her chin. “Open.” She does, my cum thick on her tongue, and I slide two fingers in, scooping it out, then cup her pussy roughly with the same hand, smearing it over her clit then shoving it deep. “This is where I belong.”
“Oh, God,” she cries and comes instantly, hips bucking, cunt pulsing, hot and slick, cries slamming the roof. It’s intense, the way her orgasm hits her, and I smirk like it’s my biggest fucking accomplishment.
With my fingers still, I watch her shudder until she’s spent, and only then do I pull them out, dragging my fingertips up to circle her nipple before I lazily lick the pebbled peak, adding a little teeth that make her quiver.
“Fuck,” she whimpers. “That was…”
“You just came like the fucking heavens opened for you.”
“You make it sound so poetic.”
“Baby, I could write Shakespearean sonnets about the way you come.”
She chuckles, and I pull her up on her knees, her pussy against my chest, tits in my face, and she’s staring down at me. “You like my cum, don’t you?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“My cum,” I say, licking a slow stripe across her breast. “It turns you on when it’s on you, in you.” I suck her nipple into my mouth, letting it go with a pop. “You love it when my seed fills you up.” I grab her hips, yanking her closer until her wet heat grinds against my chest, and she gasps, a soft moan slipping free. “Tell me, troublemaker…how wet does it make you, knowing I’ve claimed every inch of you with it?”
She squirms, cheeks red, but her eyes blaze, defiant, needy. “You’re an asshole,” she mutters, but her hips rock, just a little, rubbing herself against me, and I laugh—low, filthy—knowing I’ve got her pegged.
“Asshole or not, you’re dripping for it,” I say, sliding a hand between her thighs, fingers slipping through her slickness—hers and mine mixed together. “Feel that? You came the second I shoved it in you. Fucking instantly. That’s not just me, baby girl. That’s your dirty little kink screaming for more, and that’s why you’re so eager to suck my cock.”
I press two fingers back inside, and she clenches, her head tipping back. “You want my cum.”
“Isaia…”
“Say it,” I demand, nipping her breast, teeth grazing hard enough to sting. “Tell me you love my cum, or I’ll pull out every time we fuck, not giving you a drop.”
Her pussy tightens around my fingers—fuck, she’s soaked—and I know I’m right. She’s hooked on it.
“Fine,” she gasps, voice trembling, eyes locked on mine. “I love it. Your cum…it fucking undoes me.” Her admission’s a spark, lighting me up, and I growl, pulling her down to straddle my hips. “Only yours.”
I pause. Only mine? Does that mean…
Has she had another man’s cum inside her?
Anthony’s face flashes, his hands on her, and I’m choking on it.
She’ll find out. You’re going to lose her.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“What?”
“Anthony. Did you let him fuck you?”
Of course, she did.
I feel the sting on my cheek before I realize how irrational I became within a split fucking second. The burn from her palm is sharp, grounding, and shit, I deserve it.
“Screw you, Isaia.” She gets off me fast, like I burned her, voice shaking with fury. “Screw you!”
“Everly—” I reach for her, but she’s already moving, scrambling off the bed, her naked back a blur as she storms toward the bathroom.
“I would never sleep with another man while loving someone else.” Her words hit like bullets, each one sinking deep, and the door slams behind her, the lock clicking loudly in the silence.
The devil’s carving my spine with a rusty blade, because the craziness just keeps on growing.
“You married him, Everly,” I call, voice rough but softer, cracking at the edges. “Surely you knew he’d expect sex from you sooner or later.”
I’m going to kill him. For real. Make it hurt more.
She comes rushing out, a towel wrapped around her. If the slap wasn’t a dead giveaway, the flush on her cheeks and dark flash in her mismatched eyes tells me she’s pissed.
“Why now? Why bring this up now?”
I grab my pants and slip them on, roughing a hand through my hair. “I haven’t really had a chance to bring it up.”
“Because we’ve been fucking ever since I opened my eyes on this goddamn island.”
She’s not wrong.
While slipping on a tee, I move toward her, and she’s not backing away, standing her ground.
“I get it. You’re pissed I asked. But tell me, if it was me, if I were the one who spent weeks with another woman planning our wedding and then married her before you came barging into the church, how would you deal with that?”
I press forward, and this time she inches back.
“If you were in my shoes, can you honestly say the thought of there even being the slightest possibility of me fucking another woman, ramming my cock into her, making her scream my name would never cross your mind once?”
“It’s not the same.” There’s a subtle quiver in her voice, and I stalk her until her back hits the wall.
“How is it not the same?”
“I’m not like you.”
I scowl. “You think because I’m more skilled in the art of fucking than you are, that I’d be more inclined to screw someone else? That I’d savor the taste of some other woman’s lips, enjoy the feel of her cunt, what? Just because I can?”noveldrama
Her eyes narrow. “Your family runs a sex club. You’re a Del Rossa. You’ve never been faithful to anyone. Never had to.”
“Because I never loved anyone before you!” I snap, slamming my fist into the wall next to her face. “I tore the world apart searching for you. I killed more men in the weeks you were gone than I did my entire life combined. I killed someone in a motherfucking church for you, Everly. You really think I’d go through all that trouble if simply fucking another woman to get you out of my system was an option for me?”
She doesn’t say a word, just sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, gaze locked on mine, fierce and unyielding but soft at the edges, like she’s weighing me.
I grab her jaw, firmly enough to bite, and bring my lips close to hers so she can taste my truth.
“I’m an over-the-top, jealous, possessive motherfucker who will not apologize for wanting you—all of you—mine and mine alone. Anthony, any other bastard—I’d rip their throats out before they got close, ’cause you’re my fucking world, Everly Beaumont.”
My voice drops, rough and raw.
“But me asking if he fucked you isn’t because I think you’re some cheap, back-alley whore. I asked because I see you with him in my head sometimes, see him touching you, kissing you.” I brush my lips lightly on hers. “Making you come, and it fucking guts me, baby,” I grit out. “It fucks me up in here.” I press my finger against my temple. “And here.” I tap my chest right over my heart. “Don’t you get it? I’m not asking to judge you. I’m not asking because I think you’re cheap. I’m asking so I can fight the image of him touching you…before it destroys me.”
Her breath hitches, eyes flaring wide, and then—fuck—she snaps. Her hands fly to my face, fingers digging into my jaw, and she kisses me hard, wild, like she’s trying to swallow my words, my soul.
“Goddamn you,” she gasps against my lips, voice breaking. “You’re insane, Isaia, and I hate how much I love it.” Her nails rake down my neck, sparking fire, and she presses herself closer, tits crushing against my chest, heat radiating off her.
“You love me losing my fucking mind over you?” I growl, hands dropping to her hips, yanking her against me. My cock’s hard again—painfully hard—and I grind it into her, feeling her shudder. She’s naked, still slick from before, and her moan’s a raw, desperate sound that lights me up.
“Yes,” she breathes, hands clawing at my shirt, ripping it up, and I’m done—done talking, done thinking.
Lifting her fast, her legs wrap my hips, tight and greedy, and I shove my pants down just enough, freeing my cock. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“You know what it is I need to hear.”
A whimper slides past her lips. “I’m yours, Isaia.”
I thrust into her—hard, no warning—and she cries out, head banging the wall, pussy clenching me like a vise.
“All yours,” she pants, nails gouging my shoulders. “Just yours. Oh, God.”
My cock’s nailing her against the wall, each push pulling a grunt from me and a gasp from her. Each snap of my hips a claim, a purge of that Anthony motherfucker in my head.
Her heat swallows me, so wet, so tight, I can barely breathe through it. And she’s as lost as I am. I’m pulling her under with me, dragging her to the darkness.
I shouldn’t like it, but I do. I fucking love it.
The thought of her embracing my brand of crazy possession thrills and scares me at the same damn time. All this intensity, the madness, the obsession, it’s got the potential to turn into our own personal Romeo and Juliette ending. But fuck, I can’t think of a better way to go.
“It was never him,” she pants. “There was never a chance of me letting him touch me, not after you made me yours.”
“Fuck, baby girl.” I pound into her, the wall rattling with every thrust.
“I would rather die than have another man come near me.”
Fuuuuuck. She’s telling me everything she knows I need to hear. “Only me.” I piston in and out of her. “Only my cock. My cum. My fucking world.”
Her screams shred the air as I bruise her thighs, her legs trembling, and I feel her pussy pulse.
“Tell me you want my cum,” I grit out.
“Isaia…”
“Say you want my cum, or I swear to God, I will pull out and waste it all over this hardwood floor.”
“No,” she pants. “Please, no. Just…come inside me, Isaia. I want your cum. I want it all inside me.” It’s a desperate plea that pulls me over the edge.
It’s one more deep, hard thrust, and pleasure tears through me, warmth spreading from my balls to the tip of my cock, spilling into her.
“Oh, God, I can feel it,” she pants. “I can feel you come. Fuck.” Then she shatters. Soaking me. Pussy gushing, body trembling, and I keep on moving in and out of her, riding her through the pleasure until she goes limp in my arms. Exhausted.
Her head slumps against mine, breath jagged, hands softening as they trace the carnage of my skin. “You’re insane,” she whispers, a wrecked laugh spilling out, “and I love it. I love you, you psycho bastard.”
I grin, dark and feral, and rasp, “Seems like my crazy matches yours.”
She nods, spent, clinging to me, and I feel it—her surrender, her love, binding us in this madness. But as I hold her, a terrifying thought crushes my lungs. A crippling fear that makes my blood run cold.
What if she finds out?
What if he comes for her?
And what if…what if she picks him?
What do you think?
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