“Easier to get out when I’m otherwise blowing your mind.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, but it comes out as a breathy whisper. I glance away, another laugh slipping loose and betraying my nerves. When I meet his eyes again, there’s conflict brewing on his face.
“Why do you do that? Push me away?”
I open my mouth to answer, then close it again as I shake my head and choose my words carefully. “If I’m not fightingwith you, it’s so simple to fall into… this. Whatever this is. It’s too easy to want what I can’t have. I am an Archangel. One with endless expectations that I cannot just cast aside for something as frivolous as a crush.”
“You saying you have a crush on me, Micah?”
Heat rises in my face as I peek up at his grin, usually sharp and teasing, but now softer, almost tender. “Even if I have… feelings for you, it doesn’t matter.”
“What if I want it to matter?”
“You hate me,” I murmur as I try to look away, but he grips my chin and stops me.
“I think we both know that isn’t true, angel.” He holds onto me, his black eyes roaming my face as his brows scrunch.
“What is it?” I ask, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he clamps it shut again with a small shake of his head. My levity fades as I catch the conflict in his face. The way he looks at me is almost pained. “Xal, what—”
“Fuck it,” he whispers, and drops his entire body, his substantial weight pressing into my chest as he slams his lips onto mine.
At my considerable age, I’ve been kissed by dozens…hundredsof people, and never once has the world stopped. Never before has my body jolted like it has been hit with an electric shock, so intense that my spine lifts from the ground.
Never have I felt I might die from the need that courses through me.
Every bit of tension melts away as I whimper, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. It’s unrefined, a far cry from the practiced, polite kisses I’m accustomed to—this one is rough, urgent, and a little painful. Licking and sucking over my lips, he takes control of my mouth, and the last thread of my restraint snaps.
My hips drive up into him as I claw at the back of his neck, fingernails digging into his skin as I try to tug him closer. He fights me, even as I chase his lips. My nails dig in and rake over his flesh, uncaring if he bleeds if it’ll just keep him close. I realize my eyes have closed, and I open them as he reaches to pry my hands from his neck.
The world stops in a confusing mad rush as I watch him pull away from my touch.
I won’t survive another rejection—I already know it. “Xal?” I whisper, dread and confusion making my voice weak.
“Micah?” His head tilts as he takes in my panic. Comprehension dawns on his face, and he pins my wrists to the ground and inches closer. “Oh, angel,” he whispers, pressing a barely-there kiss to my lips before he sits tall. “Micah, you know better than to take over. That’s why I stopped. Your job is to sit back and listen, because I'm in charge now.” My lip pushes out in a pout at the distance he’s created, but he only chuckles and drags a hand down my face to swipe at it. “What’s off the table?”
“What?” I ask, forcing myself to concentrate.
“Well, I already know you like being used, and you get off on being called names… cock slut…good boy.” My body moves without my permission, grinding up into him as he pushes his weight down to hold me against the ground.
“What about choking?” he asks, and my eyes close as my face flushes, embarrassment burning under my skin as I nod. “Restraining?” Another nod, and he chuckles softly as I crack my eyes open by a sliver and peek at his massive form on top of me.
Xalreth might not be as tall as me, but he likely outweighs me with the bulging expanse of strength beneath his smokey gray skin. His shoulders are broad and his chest is a solid wall of muscle that dwarfs mine, despite my size. His weight pressing down on my abdomen, stealing the edge of my breath, should make me tense, but instead, I find myself relaxing.
Trapped underneath this hulking, giant demon, I feel like it’s okay to not be ‘on’ all the time.
Like maybe I can let go, if just for a few minutes.
“So what don’t you like?” he asks, and his palms drop to my chest in a move that sends sparks across my skin. I force my breath to steady as I prepare for the conversation. Archangels are some of the oldest beings in existence, and our ties to the Heavens mean that, historically, we have always been expected to be pure and in control.
Never falling victim to the whims of sexual desires.
Never chasing pleasure.
Certainly neversubmitting.
“I… well, I…” Xalreth is patient as he sits there, fingertips spinning tiny circles on my pecs as he waits. “There’s not much that I wouldn’t let you do to me,” I finally admit, but there’s no judgment on his face as I push out a sigh. “But I… I don’t want to make any decisions… I don’t want any control.”
“You want me to make them for you, then? Take your choice away?” I nod, relieved that he understands what I need. “And if you fight me, that’s part of the game?”
