As we paused at a stop sign, I caught my reflection in a nearby shop window. The dark circles under my eyes and the sullen set of my mouth betrayed my lack of sleep, a stark contrast to Azrael’s upbeat mood. His seemingly boundless energy only served to highlight my own morning grogginess.
Azrael cut a striking figure beside me, effortlessly handsome in loose-cut, light blue distressed jeans and a dark grey band t-shirt. A small smile tugged at my lips as I recognized my handiwork in his outfit, though I noted with a mix of pride and amusement that he’d begun developing his own sense of style recently. His shock of white hair stood out in the morning crowd, but in a world where self-expression through vivid hair colors had become commonplace, he garnered only fleeting glances from passersby.
As if sensing my mood, Azrael reached out to pat my head affectionately. He let his sunglasses slide down his nose, peering at me over the rims with a mix of concern and amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You okay, sour puss?” he asked, his voice tinged with gentle teasing.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, my annoyance evident in my tone. I tugged at the straps of my green sunflower dress, adjusting them as I added, “This better be worth it.”
Just then, the traffic light flicked to green, and we resumed our journey. As we walked, the early morning sun warmed my skin, and despite my grouchiness, I felt a small flutter of anticipation for whatever this day might bring.
“You said Sally was your boss?” I probed, my steps falling in sync with Azrael as we walked.
“In more ways than one,” Azrael replied, his voice carrying a weight I hadn’t noticed before. “She owns the bookstore, but she’s also far above me in rank. She’s a cherub.”
His casual revelation sent a chill down my spine. What I’d thought was a simple part-time job suddenly seemed far more complex and potentially dangerous.
I recalled how excited I’d been when Azrael first mentioned the bookstore gig. With my parents’ inheritance providing us a comfortable life, I’d seen it as a positive step for him, a way to integrate into human society. Now, that memory felt tainted, laced with half-truths and hidden agendas.
“You didn’t tell me the whole truth about Sally, did you?” I halted, searching his face for any sign of deception.
Azrael halted, his hand moving to rub his neck - a telltale sign of discomfort. “No, I didn’t,” he admitted, his frown deepening. “Sally is indeed an old friend, but I sought her out deliberately. I needed someone with connections upstairs to keep me informed, and Sally... well, she sometimes needed someone capable of keeping her ‘contacts’ in line.”
The implications of his words hung heavy in the air. “So, she’s a mob boss and you’re her enforcer?” I asked, my voice sharp with a mix of fear and anger.
Azrael’s eyes darted upward, avoiding my gaze. His silence spoke volumes.
“Is she trustworthy?” I pressed, unable to keep the worry from my voice. The idea that we might be entangled with some celestial mafia terrified me.
“Totally. Without a doubt,” Azrael assured me, his tone firm. “I’ve known her for millennia, and she’s never given me a reason to question her loyalty. She’s outspoken and quirky, but always a good friend.”
“Okay then,” I sighed, but the knot in my stomach didn’t ease. As we resumed walking, the bustling city around us suddenly felt more ominous. Every passing stranger could be a potential threat, every shadow potentially concealing some otherworldly danger. I realized with a start that I was stepping into a world far more perilous than I’d ever imagined, with Azrael as my only guide and protector.
“So, what does Sally do exactly?” I broke the tense silence between us, my voice barely masking my apprehension.
Azrael’s eyes lit up with an unsettling enthusiasm. “As an archivist, she keeps meticulous records of everything that happens on Earth. Wars, conflicts, births, holy missions, supernatural creatures - it’s like one massive celestial census and registry office rolled into one.”
The enormity of such a task made my head spin. “Sounds... overwhelming,” I mumbled, trying to comprehend the sheer volume of data involved.
“Oh, it is,” Azrael nodded, his voice tinged with reverence. “That’s why she’s not alone. There’s an entire network of archivists, each with their own territory, offices, assistants - a complex, tightly woven system that spans the globe.”
I nodded, feigning confidence even as a chill ran down my spine. The idea of such a vast, hidden bureaucracy watching and recording our every move was deeply unsettling.
“Don’t worry,” Azrael said, his excitement palpable as he came to a halt. “I think you’ll really like her.” He gestured grandly towards a storefront, its windows plastered with sale posters and literary advertisements.
“Mythos Books,” I read aloud, my eyes tracing the ornate lettering above the door. “Isn’t that a bit... obvious?”
Azrael chuckled, the sound being both warm and eerie. “Yeah, we tend to do that a lot. Hiding in plain sight, you might say.”
As we stood before the innocuous-looking bookstore, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was about to step across a threshold into a world far more vast and dangerous than I had ever imagined. The cheerful posters and book displays suddenly seemed like a thin veneer, barely concealing the otherworldly powers that lurked just beyond. With a deep breath, I steeled myself for whatever lay ahead, acutely aware that once I entered, there might be no turning back.
As we crossed the threshold, the cheerful tinkle of the bell above the door reverberated through my skull like the ominous toll of a funeral gong. I peered around timidly, my senses on high alert for any sign of the supernatural. At first glance, everything seemed deceptively normal - shelves upon shelves of books, cozy reading nooks, and the unmistakable scent of old paper and leather bindings.
That familiar aroma hit me with an unexpected wave of nostalgia, transporting me back to simpler days of adolescent angst and carefree afternoons lost in fictional worlds. But an unsettling realization quickly overshadowed the comfort of that memory - the store was eerily empty despite its inviting appearance.
I turned to voice my observation to Azrael, but he preempted me, his voice low and matter-of-fact. “Yeah, people stumble in here often enough, but they don’t stick around. The place is warded with a charm that makes outsiders feel... uneasy. Keeps folks from lingering too long.”
“Oh, convenient,” I muttered, a chill running down my spine as I processed his words. The idea that my comfort was due to my connection with Azrael rather than any inherent belonging made me acutely aware of my status as an interloper in this hidden world.
As we ventured deeper into the store, I was deeply aware of the thick silence, broken only by the soft creak of floorboards beneath our feet and the barely audible whisper of pages settling in their bindings.
As my eyes scanned the seemingly ordinary bookstore, a wave of guilt washed over me. Why had I never once offered to visit Azrael at work? The realization hit me with unexpected force, prompting a cascade of uncomfortable questions.
Was it the mere shallowness that had kept me away? Or a deeper, more insidious indifference to the life Azrael had built alongside me? I cringed inwardly, wondering if I had been too self-absorbed, too wrapped up in my own mundane problems, to show interest in his world.
A more disquieting thought slithered into my mind: perhaps this obliviousness made me the ideal companion for Azrael. Was I chosen precisely because I was so unaware, so complacently blind to the supernatural currents swirling around us? The idea that my ignorance might be my defining quality in this relationship left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Mister Doom and Gloom himself, finally crawling back here...” A saccharine voice cut through the silence, its forced sweetness carrying an undercurrent of something ancient and powerful.
Azrael’s chuckle resonated through the empty store. “Better gloom and doom than a bookworm,” he called back, amusement lacing his tone.
As we approached, I caught my first glimpse of Sally descending a ladder propped against one of the towering bookcases. She was a study in contrasts - petite yet curvaceous, her tight bodycon dress emphasizing every alluring line. Her elegant updo, adorned with intricate braids, was softened by wisps of hair framing her face.
Sally’s gaze, sharp and assessing behind cat-eye glasses, raked over us both. I tried to meet her stare but found myself looking away, unnerved by the otherworldly glint in her eyes.
“You devilish scoundrel,” she purred, removing her glasses, and letting them hang around her neck in a delicate golden chain. “Did you finally bring along the lovely Yasmena?”
The use of my full name sent a shiver down my spine, so rarely was it uttered. I managed a weak smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Sally.”
Without warning, Sally pulled me into a fierce embrace, her ample bosom pressing against me. “Oh, sweetie, likewise,” she cooed, her hug feeling oddly sincere despite its suddenness.
As I pulled back, offering a more genuine smile, I noticed Azrael’s expression harden. “Sally, we need some help with something.”
Sally’s demeanor shifted instantly, worry etching lines in her flawless face as she scanned me for signs of distress. It was then I noticed something unsettling about her eyes—almond-shaped and green, but with an almost reptilian quality. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw a third eyelid flicker across her eye, her pupil momentarily shifting into a crescent moon.
“Something’s happened with Mena,” Azrael explained in a hushed tone. “She’s started to see beyond the veil.”
Sally’s eyebrow arched, her gaze flicking between us. “Is that the only recent development, or is there something more?”
Under her penetrating stare, I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Azrael’s hand moved to rub his neck, his eyes avoiding contact.
Sally sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Follow me,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
With a graceful pirouette, she pivoted on her heels, her movements as fluid as water. She glided towards the back of the bookstore, her fingers dancing across the surface of a small, unassuming door festooned with stern warnings of “NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ALLOWED.” The door creaked open, revealing a secret passageway that seemed to breathe with ancient whispers.
Before us stretched a downward staircase, its narrow steps worn smooth by countless unseen footfalls. The rickety structure swayed almost imperceptibly, as if alive and wary of intruders. Shadows clung to every corner, the absence of windows allowing darkness to reign supreme, broken only by the feeble flicker of dying bulbs. As we began our descent, the very air seemed to thicken, pressing against my chest with an unseen force. My heart thundered in my ears; each beat a primal warning of the unknown that lay ahead.
At the foot of the staircase, the world exploded with magnificence. A colossal hall unfurled before us; its ceiling so high it seemed to touch the heavens themselves. Towering bookcases stretched endlessly in every direction, their shelves groaning under the weight of countless tomes, weathered files, and mysterious boxes. These sentinels of knowledge stood like silent guardians; keepers of secrets untold.
Between these literary monoliths lay carpets of deepest crimson, so plush they seemed to swallow all sounds. Intricate golden patterns danced across their surfaces, telling stories in a language long forgotten. Massive torches clung to the walls, their flames casting a warm, ethereal glow that breathed life into every shadow.
My eyes darted frantically, desperate to absorb every detail of this subterranean wonder. The vaulted ceiling above was adorned with elaborate crenellations, their jagged edges creating a mesmerizing play of light and shadow. A gargantuan chandelier hung low, its crystal teardrops catching and fracturing the light into a thousand glittering stars. Fierce gargoyles, carved with painstaking detail, perched atop every column, their stone eyes seeming to follow our every move.
At the far reaches of this grand chamber, ornate archways beckoned, promising more wonders beyond. Each portal led to yet another hall, with more archways visible in the distance, creating an illusion of infinite space. Standing at the heart of this labyrinth, a sense of boundless expanse overcame me, as if the very walls were alive, constantly birthing new rooms and passageways that stretched into eternity.
A gasp of pure wonder escaped my lips, my eyes wide with childlike amazement as I struggled to comprehend the sheer majesty surrounding me. Sally’s lips curved into a knowing smile, clearly pleased by my awestruck reaction. With a gentle gesture, she beckoned us onward, our footsteps muffled by the lush carpet as we ventured deeper into this hidden realm of endless knowledge and untold mysteries.
“This, my dear Yasmena,” Sally intoned, her voice resonating with pride and reverence, “is the library.” She turned gracefully to face us, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and secrecy. “Just one of many, but hidden and guarded to preserve the sanctity of our recorded history. A lifetime could vanish within these walls, and you’d barely scratch the surface of its treasures.” Her arms swept outward in a dramatic flourish, encompassing the surrounding vastness. “It’s truly magnificent,” she beamed, her infectious smile spreading like wildfire. “And as immense as this collection is, we must hope it holds some record of another human experiencing your unique... situation.”
The weight of her words settled heavily in my stomach. My mind translated her optimism into a stark reality: we were searching for a needle in a cosmic haystack. As if sensing my trepidation, Azrael’s hand found my shoulder, offering a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Sally glided towards one of the massive mahogany desks scattered throughout the main hall, each an island of order in the sea of knowledge surrounding us. As she settled behind it, her demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more focused. “Now,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “tell me more about what you’ve experienced thus far.”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself before recounting my bizarre journey. Every detail of the psychopomp encounter, the haunting visions, and the mysterious sigils poured forth. My voice quavered as I confessed the constant, unsettling feeling of being watched, as if unseen eyes were always upon me.
As I spoke, Sally’s expression grew increasingly grave. Her lips pressed into a thin line, brow furrowing deeply as she absorbed each word. Occasional nods punctuated my narrative, her eyes distant, as if seeing beyond the present moment. When I finally fell silent, I chanced a glance at Azrael. The color had drained from his face, his normally composed features now etched with concern. It seemed the full gravity of our predicament was only now truly sinking in.
A heavy silence hung in the air as Sally gathered her thoughts, her gaze slowly sweeping across the towering bookshelves as if seeking answers from the ancient tomes themselves.
“My sweet Yasmena,” she began, her voice soft but laden with significance, “from all you’ve told me, it’s clear that you’re not merely glimpsing beyond the veil. You’re actively expanding your senses, and it appears that otherworldly entities are being drawn to you as well.” She paused, weighing her next words carefully.
“There’s a reason humans typically lack this ability. The few who possess even a sliver of true sight are lost in a sea of charlatans and frauds. Your kind has made it nearly impossible to discern who genuinely bears the gift.”
“Not to mention,” Azrael interjected, his voice carrying a hint of dark amusement, “we infiltrated agents ourselves to aid in that obfuscation.”
I whirled to face him, my eyes widening at his casual admission. His wolfish grin and matter-of-fact tone sent my mind reeling, conjuring images of shadowy government programs and whispered conspiracies. The specter of CIA MK ULTRA experiments loomed in my thoughts, making comical associations in my head of secret spies and double agents.
“Well, yes,” Sally nodded, her fingers intertwining with deliberate slowness. “As I was saying, humans aren’t meant to possess this quality, and for damn good reason.” Her voice took on a lecturing tone as if explaining a simple concept to a child. “They lack the means to protect themselves, have no real understanding of how other realms function, how we’re all intricately intertwined. If they were to gain accurate knowledge, it would be utter chaos.”
Something inside me snapped. “But we knew about angels, didn’t we?” I retorted; my words sharp with growing irritation. Their condescending tones, painting humans as bumbling fools, grated against my nerves.
Sally’s laughter, a sound of pure condescension, filled the air. Her gaze fixed on me with a mixture of amusement and pity. “My dear Yasmena,” she began, each syllable dripping with patronizing sweetness, “we go by many names in your world. Angel, tenbu, deva - call us what you will, it matters not. These are mere labels, not our true essence.” She paused, savoring her next words. “And all your religious texts, be it Christianity, Islam, Buddhism - they’re all simultaneously right and wrong. Faith, for you, is whatever you wish it to be. But it never sways us from our duties and mission.”
She leaned back, pushing her glasses up with a single, elegant finger. “Humans aren’t meant to know, and they never will. That’s one of our primary directives. Humanity’s job is simply to exist and to not meddle in our affairs.” Her face hardened, becoming as unyielding as stone.
Anger bubbled up within me. “So, we’re meant to just fuck each other and carry on?” I spat, feeling Azrael tense beside me, his gaze burning into the back of my neck.
Sally’s laughter rang out again but with a predatory edge this time. She bit her lip, eyeing me like I’d suddenly become prey. “Precisely,” she purred, leaning forward to reveal rows of crisp white teeth.
Azrael attempted to interject, but Sally steamrolled over him. “But that doesn’t mean you’re unworthy, unimportant, or insignificant. Quite the opposite. Your innocence is precious, and we’re bound to protect it.” Her voice regained its cloying sweetness, like an overbearing mother explaining life’s harsh truths. “I understand these revelations are overwhelming, and I may have struck a nerve or two. But it doesn’t change how our world operates.”
Her challenging gaze dared me to respond, but I bit my tongue, recognizing the futility. I unclenched my white-knuckled grip on the armrests, forcing myself to breathe.
“We really appreciate your help, Sally,” Azrael interjected, his words an obvious attempt to diffuse the tension.
Sally’s pleasant smile reappeared as if flipped by a switch. “Why, of course, sugar,” she cooed, turning to Azrael. “Even though this is our first meeting, you’ve told me so much about her, so I hold a dear spot for Yasmena in my heart as well.” Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, emphasizing my full name with deliberate precision.
Her repeated use of my name had evolved from annoying to infuriating. Those reptilian eyes caught every micro-expression that flitted across my face, and I could sense her inner smirk growing with each twitch.
“Tell you what, sweet peach,” Sally declared, rising from her seat with fluid grace. She adjusted her glasses with a practiced touch, the lenses catching the light. “I know this is a lot to absorb, and we have a mountain of work ahead of us. Why don’t I gather everything I can find on the matter over the next few days? We’ll reconvene and sift through the material together. How does that sound?” Her gaze flicked between us, her body language unmistakably signaling that our time was up.
I nearly catapulted from my chair, eager to put as much distance between myself and this unsettling place as possible.
“It was a pleasure meeting you,” I managed, my voice dripping with artificial sweetness. I was already half-turned towards the exit, my body yearning for escape.
“Oh, buttercup,” Sally purred, her grin widening as she peered at me over the rims of her glasses. “I know you don’t mean that. I’m far too old to be fooled anymore, and you’re far too pretty to be making wrinkles with those fake smiles.” Her words carried a mix of amusement and something darker. “But I meant what I said. Because you mean a great deal to Azrael, and you have such a delicious effect on him, you mean a great deal to me, too.”
Her statement caught me off guard. Another surprise in an encounter full of them. Shame washed over me at being so thoroughly exposed by my own gestures and expressions. Unable to form words, I offered a silent nod of appreciation. Sally’s warm smile in return felt genuine for the first time since we’d met.
As we made our way out of the main hall, Sally’s voice rang out once more. “Oh, and Azrael, next time you require assistance, I want the full story. Even the more... salacious details.” The emphasis she placed on those last words was unmistakable.
I glanced at Azrael, catching his embarrassed wince. His eyes narrowed; lips pursed as if Sally’s words had physically struck him. I couldn’t help but cover my mouth, a sneaky grin spreading across my face. The feeling was akin to getting caught after spending the night at a boy’s house for the first time.
Sally’s parting shot ignited a fire of laughter within me, so intense it threatened to burst free. Surprisingly, I felt drained of all the anger I had harbored towards her earlier. As unpleasant as our meeting had been, relief washed over me. Someone was actively investigating our situation, and while Sally’s condescending arrogance and fake pleasantries were obnoxious, there was no denying the strength and omniscient power she exuded.
As we left the library, I found myself caught between conflicting emotions: lingering irritation at Sally’s attitude, amusement at her final jab at Azrael, and a grudging respect for her apparent capabilities. The weight of our situation still pressed upon me, but now there was a glimmer of hope - even if it came wrapped in an infuriatingly smug package.
*
As the highway stretched endlessly before us, I let out a long, drawn-out sigh, my gaze fixed on the blur of traffic outside. The tension from our meeting with Sally still lingered in the air.
"You were wrong," I finally broke the silence, my voice laced with frustration. "I don't like her." The words came out as a scoff, my eyes still resolutely avoiding Azrael.
Azrael remained focused on the road; one hand draped casually over the steering wheel. His gothic rings caught the sunlight, sending little prisms dancing across the dashboard. "Yeah," he admitted with a slight grimace, "I forgot about her stuck-up attitude. It's not that noticeable when humans aren't involved in the subject matter."
The dam of my annoyance finally burst. "She sees us as cockroaches!" I exclaimed, whipping my head around to face him, my eyes blazing.
A low chuckle rumbled from Azrael's chest as he shot me a quick, amused glance. "I wouldn't say cockroaches," he mused with a hint of mischief in his voice. "More like... little mice."
I crossed my arms tightly, my lips pursing into a pout that would have made a toddler proud.
Azrael's voice softened, taking on a tone of weary acceptance. "Look, the higher in rank, the more conceited and snobbier angels are. It's just how it is. I learned a long time ago to let it slide right past me."
A spark of playful defiance ignited within me. "Maybe that's how low-rank angels see you as well," I smirked, unable to resist the jab.
Without missing a beat, Azrael quipped back, "That would explain why I never got a 'Number 1 Boss' mug at office parties." He punctuated the joke with an exaggerated wink, drawing an involuntary smile and eye roll from me.
As the humor faded, a puzzling thought struck me. "And how on Earth did she know about us?" I asked, my voice filled with genuine bafflement.
Azrael's eyes widened comically, his shoulders rising in an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know," he admitted, a hint of unease creeping into his voice, "and I dare not ask."
The car fell into silence once more, but this time it was charged with a mix of lingering frustration and shared amusement.
Sometime later, I dozed off, only to jolt awake as Azrael eased the car into a parking spot, fragments of a nightmare still clinging to my consciousness - hooded figures and winged exterminators in ghostbuster costumes giving chase.
"You all right?" Azrael asked, startled by my sudden movement.
"Yeah, nightmare," I mumbled, trying to shake off the lingering unease.
His gaze hardened, a frown etching deep lines on his forehead. "I'd never let anyone harm you."
A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard against it. "What if you're the one harming me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, barely above a whisper. I couldn't meet his eyes as I hastily exited the car.
"What did you say?" Azrael's voice rose behind me, but I was already hurrying towards our building, seeking refuge in my bedroom.
Moments later, Azrael burst in, his presence filling the small space. "What was that about?" he demanded, confusion and concern warring in his voice.
"I'm not in the mood to talk about it," I snapped, burying my face in a pillow.
"Tough cookies, 'cause we're talking about it," Azrael's tone softened as he sat beside me, his hand gently caressing my face. "What's wrong?"
I mumbled into the pillow, frustration seeping into every word. "I hate that you hide so much from me. You know everything about me - family, friends, school, exes, what I eat, how long I spend in the bathroom. But you? I know so little. Who you are, what you've done, your friends, your life when we're apart."
Azrael turned away, fidgeting with one of his large silver rings. "Is it so wrong to not talk about things you're ashamed of?" he whispered.
"Ashamed of?" I echoed, confusion replacing some of my anger.
"Yeah, Mena," he inched closer. "What if I don't like who I was before you? What if being with you has changed everything - my view on humanity, on life, on duty and purpose?" His eyes sought mine, vulnerable and intense. "If anything I say could make you think less of me, I'd rather not say it at all."
"It's not right," I cried out, anger flaring anew. "Keeping things from me is lying. We promised not to lie to each other."
Azrael's hand shot out, gripping my arm, forcing me to face him. "And can you swear you don't keep things from me too?" His voice was heated, eyes blazing. "You think I don't sense your panic, your worry? I know every time you slip out of bed at night, pulling away from my arms to lose yourself in dark thoughts in the kitchen. Is that not lying?"
I tried to wrench my arm free, but his grip was firm, pulling me closer.
"It's not the same," I growled through gritted teeth.
"For me, it is," Azrael snarled back. In one fluid motion, he pulled me against him, his lips crashing onto mine, his free hand cupping my face with a mix of tenderness and desperation.
The kiss was electric, charged with all our unspoken fears and frustrations. As we broke apart, both breathing heavily, I realized that this conversation was far from over.
Azrael pushed me farther onto the bed, his touch fervent and unrelenting. His lips ravished mine in a desperate, primal kiss as he hungrily tugged at my dress, revealing more of my skin with every passing second.
I could feel a hot wave of rage building inside me, but it was quickly swept away by the overwhelming passion that consumed us both. I retaliated by pulling his t-shirt up and over his head, running my hands eagerly over his muscled chest and back.
As our tongues entwined and danced together, I heard the familiar sound of a belt buckle being undone and felt Azrael's jeans fly across the room. A yelp escaped my lips as he flipped me over, exposing my backside even further.
"Damn," Azrael grunted as he caressed my bottom, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned forward and sank his teeth into one of my butt cheeks, eliciting a sharp cry from me. The pain mixed with pleasure brought tears to my eyes, but before I could react, he grabbed my hair firmly and smacked my ass.
"You're not going anywhere," he growled as he forced his knee between my legs, spreading them apart.
My cries of protest were muffled as he pinned me down, his strong hands gripping my hips. I writhed beneath him, desperate to break free.
But he wouldn't relent, his grunts and groans matching the rhythm of his forceful thrusts. The roughness and dominance of the scene ignited a fire within me, causing my body to betray me with its arousal. With each deep penetration, I arched my back and gasped, surrendering to his power.
He paused momentarily, his hand caressing my back as if studying my reaction. And then he slammed back into me, eliciting a loud moan from my lips.
In between thrusts, Azrael's hands wandered over my skin, delivering sharp smacks to my ass that left behind a deep pink hue.
My breath was coming in gasps as I panted back at him, my fingers gripping the sheets tightly. Despite his anger, I could feel the intensity of our connection building with each thrust.
“Listen to me when I say that everything I do is meant to protect you,” he growled, emphasizing each word with a hard, merciless thrust that made my body shudder. His hand tightened in my hair, pulling me closer to his chest.
I couldn't help but moan, lost in the sensations of his brutal fucking. The heat and pleasure were overwhelming, sending my mind into a hazy state.
“I want you to take all of me,” he commanded, punctuating his words with powerful thrusts. “Every inch of this cock until I fill you with everything I have.”
I whispered his name, feeling lightheaded from all the moaning and panting.
“Say it again,” he demanded, biting down on my shoulder.
“A-Azrael,” I stuttered out, my voice shaking as I neared my limit.
“Louder,” he urged. “Scream it out. Who do you belong to?”
My head spun as I shouted his name, feeling completely claimed by his roughness and dominance.
“You, Azrael,” I cried out as he pounded into me with a primal intensity that shook the bed beneath us.
“One more time,” he grunted, gripping my hips and thrusting harder. “Who owns you?”
“You!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, feeling like I was being consumed by him.
With a guttural roar, Azrael released himself inside of me, filling me with ribbons of hot cum as we both collapsed onto the mattress in a state of pure ecstasy.
