Page 19 of Deviled Eggs


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I withdraw just enough to watch the pulses of my cock as I spill into his mouth, and his eyes roll up into his head as his hips jerk forward. “Swallow all of it, angel,” I murmur as I push his hair from his face, watching the bob of his throat. My thumb swipes over his Adam’s apple as it dips, and I grunt softly at the rapid thump of his pulse. He licks and sucks until I heave a content sigh and pull back.

Micah’s cheeks are flushed deep red and his lips are swollen and slick, spit still dripping down his chin. His cock rests against his thigh and a thick stream of white rolls down his bare leg, pooling where the fabric of his pants binds them together at his knees. “Did you come again?”

“Yeah,” he admits shyly, and my dick gives a rebound flex at the rasp of his voice.

I did that to him.

Me.

“You are goddamned perfect, aren’t you? So ready to get on your knees until you’re ruined.” He nods, looking pleased as I reach down and help him to his feet. “Only for me, though. No one else gets to see you like this anymore. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I do,” he whispers, and his gaze locks on mine as something inside me cracks open and lets him in. He feels it, too.

I can read it in his eyes.

Heavy-lidded, he rests a palm on my cheek and swoops down to kiss me. And in that split second, I realize how much I want him to.Desperately.

But that’s not what this is, and it’s something I can’t allow.

Panicked, I twist my head so his kiss lands near my ear, and I hear his disappointed whine. That grip tightens in my chest, vise-like and constricting further at the sound. I take a deep breath as I try to sort through my minefield of thoughts, forcing a smirk onto my lips.

“Don’t pout, angel.” I turn to face him, silently trying to figure out why my heart feels like it’s splitting in half. He watches me with wary eyes as I help him right his clothing. I pull his pants up and fasten them, and I keep my grip on his shirt once he’s presentable again. “Now, do you remember what I told you to do?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, though his defenses are back in place and I can see that he wants to run.

“Good.” I absently smooth his sweater, letting my hands rub across his defined chest. “There’s something we need to add to my instructions.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding surprised and equally hesitant. “What, uh… what do you want me to do?”

My fingers drag along his face, wiping away the last remnants of the mess that coats his shimmering skin. It hits me that our glamour has faded.

I wonder at what point the realusemerged.

“You need to work that tight hole open every night, and I want you in a bigger plug every day.”

“You want me cagedandplugged?” he asks, a fraction of his attitude returning. Somehow, he seamlessly reverts to indignant and haughty after he just came hands free from me fucking his mouth.

“That’s right,” I purr, fisting his sweater and pulling him closer. My lips ghost across his jawline before giving him a gentle bite that makes him gasp. “Next time I see you, I want you ready for me.”

Chapter 7

Micah

Three days is my limit, it would seem.

It has developed into a cycle. A carousel of emotions that won’t stop long enough for me to climb off, so I’m stuck spinning in circles. Over and over, round and fucking round until I’m dizzy with it. It’s a routine I’m unable to break—a habitual pattern of ridiculous actions that lead me back to the same outcome, no matter how much I convince myself that this time will be different.

That’s the definition of insanity, is it not?

I’d believe I’m going insane. Would believe he’s made me that way.

Self-loathing occupies most of the first day. It’s relentless… an internal war as I try to understand why I continueto succumb to these physical urges. As an Archangel, discipline is my specialty. It is mypurpose.I never struggled with self-control before now… before him.

And there’s no reason I can’t stop.I will stop,I promise myself in another fruitless oath. It’s a lie I let myself believe until the following morning.

But then I wake up, and I remember.

The second day is filled with fantasies of the friction and heat of his skin on mine, and how, for the first time in ages, my mind was gloriously silent. The worries, the responsibilities… thefearthat hides inside my head was squashed. It didn’t disappear—it can’t—but it created room for something else and let me feel like I could breathe, if just for those isolated moments.