“Y-yes, Azriel. Fuck me. Claim me,” I say frantically, thrusting my hips into his fist and slamming my ass back down onto his cock. “Make me your altar.”
“Mine,” Azriel whispers against my throat, his hand frantic now. My balls tighten and my cock jerks, and intense pleasure floods my body as I come and come and come. “Only mine. Only ever mine.”
“Azriel,” I moan as the last dribble of cum spurts out of me, and I feel him throb inside of me, coating my insides with the evidence of his pleasure. He cries out as he fills me, and the church bells toll, drowning out the sounds I love so much.
“Elijah,” he groans, stopping all movements, letting go of my now soft cock. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”
“Was I?” I whisper, suddenly feeling shy.
“Yes, Beloved.” He nods frantically, searching my eyes. “God made you in my image—not his. He made you just for me.”
I somehow believe that. I know it’s absolutely insane, but maybe it doesn’t need to make sense. I can feel it. I know there’s truth to his words.
“I lo—” I begin but am cut off suddenly.
“How sweet,” Micah snarls from the open doorway. I hadn’t even noticed that I hadn’t closed it. Oh, God. “I thought you were better than this, Elijah.”
His eyes are focused on where Azriel is still inside of me, and his cheeks heat. But I don’t think it’s from embarrassment. No, I think it’s from rage. From the fact that I’ve rejected him to be with another man.
“Look away from what’s mine, Micah,” Azriel growls. “Or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes from your skull.”
I flinch, but surprisingly, Micah doesn’t react at all.
I whimper as I kneel, and Azriel slips out of me, cum trickling out of my hole and down my thighs. I look up to make eyecontact with Micah, but he just shakes his head and retreats, a look of pain on his face.
I’m gasping for air, scrambling off Azriel’s lap and putting my clothes on in a rush. Azriel calls for me, but I ignore him. I have to stop Micah. He’s spiteful—he will talk. I know it. He will tell Father Jacob what he saw, and then I’ll be cast out.
Would that really be so bad?
I shake as I run after him, but he’s fast. Micah is in the living room by the time I catch up to him, walking quickly towards his room. I grab him by his right arm and yank him back until he’s turned around to face me. There are tears streaming down his face, and he sniffles, using his free hand to wipe at his cheeks aggressively. My hand is still wrapped around his bicep, fingers digging in, and he shakes me off.
Taking a step back, I put a few feet of space between us. Micah’s green eyes search mine, and my mouth goes dry.
“Micah, I’m s-s-so sorry.” I stammer, unsure of how to act or what to say to make this better. “I didn’t mean for you to see that. I didn’t want to?—”
“To what?” he spits. “Reject me? Break my heart? Too fucking late.”
“I’ve never?—”
“Leave him,” Micah growls, getting closer to me and wrapping a hand around my neck. “I won’t say anything if you leave him and choose me instead.”
“I—” I shake my head furiously, tears stinging the back of my eyes. “I can’t do that. I won’t. He’s the love of my life, Micah.”
I love him. Oh, fuck. I love Azriel.
“Then you leave me no choice,” Micah whispers, letting his hand drop from my neck.
I take in a much-needed breath, and he shakes his head and retreats, stepping backward into the hallway. With one last sad look, he goes to his room and closes the door.
And me?
I fall to my knees and sob.
Terrified.
Ihaven’t seen Elijah in days. Long, lonely, horrible days. I could lie and say I don’t know how many days it’s been, but I think I’ve counted the exact hours, minutes, and seconds we’ve been apart. I don’t think—I know. It’s become an obsession at this point. Something to do to keep from going crazy, though I’m not sure it’s worked. If anything, it has made me feel even crazier.
I knew things would change when I saw Micah standing across from us, but I didn’t realize it would be this jarring. That he would give up on us so suddenly. So quickly. As if we never happened. He blew out the candle and walked away, plain and simple. Snuffed out is what we are. There’s no better way to describe it. I felt him ripping my heart out the moment he ignored me to run after him, and now there’s an Elijah-sized hole in the middle of my chest. It feels raw and painful. Like chunks of me are missing. I never thought I’d feel this again, but here we are. Except this time, it’s worse. It hurtsmore.
