Page 67 of Living with Death

Again, wrong choice of words.

He reaches for the tops of my stockings and slides them down over my legs. The sensation of his fingers whispering over my skin makes my stomach clench. I swallow, watching his hands and tattooed arms. His shoulders are firm, his chest broad. Azrael's eyes are blacker than the night on the other side of this window.

The forest below keeps us a secret, hiding us from the world. This old manor creaks, and a breeze passes through the open door leading out to the staircase.

I watch as Azrael's hair moves as if even the wind wishes to run its hands through it. He says I should be afraid of him, but how can I be afraid of this beautiful creature? He's gentle, yet demanding. Soft, yet rough.

He looks up at me. “Do you know how long I've waited for this?” His voice is raspy.

“I don't know how you've waited at all.”

His lip lifts. “It's been torture.” He places his hands on my thighs, circling. “I've watched you from the In-Between a shameless number of times because that's the thing. When it comes to you, I am shameless.”

I try to control my erratic breathing, but it's futile. I grab the back of Az's neck and pull him to my lips, needing to taste him. He kisses me with urgency, gripping the back of my dress.

I want it off.

I want nothing between us. We stand, and I press against Azrael's chest, running my hands through his hair. It's soft and thick, sliding between my fingers. He pulls my dress up. “Take it off,” he says against my lips. I move back and grab my hair, turning around. The zipper slides down swiftly, and the dress pools at my feet. I step out as Azrael looks at my body. The look in his eyes makes my knees weaken.

“There's no going back after this. Do you understand?”

My thoughts are foggy, but I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than to be with Azrael. Why would I ever want to go back?

Morgan had to make a choice. Become immortal. Choose to be his forever.

I search his face, looking at his messy hair and his perfect jawline. He lifts his chin, and his throat makes my mouth water.

My mind empties, uncaring of anything besides being with him. “I understand.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Darkness dances as he grabs me in his arms, and I wrap my thighs around him as he takes me to the bed. I slide down his body, stroking his tongue with mine. He loops his fingers into the hem of my panties.

I bite his bottom lip.

He smiles against mine.

I reach around and undo my bra, letting it fall onto the worn, frayed rug beneath the bed. I go for Azrael's jeans, undoing the button, as he kisses and licks my neck.

He bites down, his tongue sliding over the bite.

Azrael looks down at me, bending to lick my nipples.

I can't think as my heart roars, and I shut my eyes. My core tightens when Azrael takes my nipple into his mouth. A cold draft comes in from the old windows, but the warmth of the fire slides down my heated skin, as do beads of sweat.

He captures my lips again, his hand gripping my backside, pressing me closer as if he can't get close enough. I pull on his jeans, trying to get them down.

He lets me go, removing them. I take him in, naked, standing tall. His body is flawless, appearing chiseled from stone. Dark, twisting tattoos race down his arms, and his skin is pale, appearing as smooth as porcelain.

I swallow when my eyes land on his throbbing erection.

He places his hand around it, stroking it once.

“Get on the bed,” he says.

I sit, moving back against the pillows. My mouth is dry, and my pulse is hammering out of control.

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