Page 37 of Stolen By the Gargoyle
“No,” I growled, grasping her by the hips and yanking her back to me, spearing her against my cock. I pulled her up to my chest, loosening the hold my tail had on her wrists a fraction. Her back fell to my chest, my arm shackling around her chest, the other settling on her stomach, over the slight pudgy bulge of my cock deep inside her. With a groan, she wiggled around, insides tightening along my cock like she meant to suck me in deeper until we were one soul.
I came then. Groaning and gasping, snarling as I dropped my forehead to her back, on the place between her shoulder blades. Release found me, squirting out in thick ribbons of purple to coat her womb.
I had not been aware that my release could grant her magic of her own, but we had proven it each time I spent within her. Her skin glowed purple beneath the dark brown, lighting up like the fire that lived within my own soul. It merged us together, creating a single being, a bond that could never be severed.
She was not just my wife, she was also my mate. She wore my scent and I wore hers proudly. Everything I ever wanted was now in my hands.
And I refused to ever let Dolores go again.
We collapsed on the bed I had created for us, staring up at the ceiling. My wings creaked under me and I stretched them, sighing with a contentment I had not felt for quite some time. My body leaned against my wife’s, unable to keep space betweenus for very long. And my hand dipped, finding her swollen and wet with my release.
She groaned against my ministrations as I began to softly pet her.
“Nazzar,” she drawled out. “I’m too sensitive, too sore.”
A rumbling sound came from inside me. “I shall pet you until you’re better.” The wet sloshing of my skin touching hers filled the room. I could not help myself. Touching her brought me contentment in every possible way. I was a fiend. I craved more of her.
“Hmm…” She hummed. “Maybe my body can handle one more?”
I was inclined to agree, but we were interrupted by a harsh knock on the door to our home.
I growled, angry at the interruption.
My wife rolled away from me, burying her face in the pillows. “Go answer that,” she said. “It might be Farstoff here to prepare food.”
The demon I had hired had trudged into our home with a Mexican cookbook, one that bore my mate’s favorite recipes. It was only because of that I would not murder him for interrupting. Besides, she found his apron endearing. Like a pet.
“Fine.” I slid off the bed, claws touching the ground.
It would take several days before I grew used to living in a house. My entire existence, I’d been beholden to the Underworld. To caves and scorching, open air. I had never thought to build a home, a castle for myself. Not until Dolores.
I hurried to the door, opening it with a snarl prepared on my lips. One that I swallowed back and choked on at the sight on the other side.
Before me stood my master.
Ramiel.
The Angel of Death.
“Lord Ramiel.”
I dropped to my knees with a bow, forehead and horns touching the ground as I paid reverence to my lord and creator. It had been many months since I had last seen him and I knew his presence at my doorstep did not bode well for me.
I dared a glance up at the King of the Underworld, finding him standing at the entrance, flicking invisible dust from the cuff of his suit shirt as he glared down at me.
My lord boasted ebony skin and tight coils of hair shorn near the scalp. His eyes were a dark mixture of black and brown, but the depths of the hottest hellfire lived just on the surface. They burned on me right then, like he would smite me if he so pleased.
His black, feathered wings were on display, smooth at his back.
“Nazzar,” Lord Ramiel stated coldly. “Stand.”
I pushed myself to my feet at the order, standing straight. There was a terse moment of silence and then my lord asked, “Are you not going to move aside and let me in?”
I thought of my wife upstairs in our bed, the scent of sex that clung to me that he could likely smell.
He knows, a voice told me. He knew what I had done. What he had strictly prohibited my brothers and I from doing.
We had disobeyed direct orders. We had gone to the human world against his wishes. And I had brought back my bride.
