Page 77 of Heir of Broken Souls

Desperately.

She just needs a little push.

Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I lift it over my head, not hiding my smile at her sharp intake of breath. I lean back once more and grin wickedly. “Do your worst, Angel.”

My shadows rub up against her golden tendrils along the bridge, purring like a cat. But her power dances back, snaking around mine. The fusion of it makes the bond between us pull taut, singeing as it burns with such passion I have to clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out to her.

This is all about Delilah.

Her breath hitches, and the flush along her cheeks spreads down her neck.

I don’t say anything, and I don’t move.

Delilah has spent all her life out of control, her fate thrust in the hands of everyone but herself. It’s no wonder she doesn’t trust herself to fly. Hopefully, I’m incentive enough for her to take what she wants.

She steps forward hesitantly before steely determination fills her eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek.

And then she goes and does the unexpected.

She kneels before me.

Not moving an inch, as if she was a wild horse and I was terrified of spooking her, my lids droop as Delilah leans forward, lowers my trousers, and grips the length of me in her hand.

Just the touch of her warmth has my head tipping back with a groan. She must like the reaction she elicited because excitement buzzes down our bond, along with something that has my head snapping up.

Delilah lowers her face, a cheeky grin spreading wide as her tongue darts out and licks the length of me. Fisting the bed sheets, I can’t help the moan that tumbles from my lips, or the precum that drips.

When she takes me in her mouth, it feels like I’ve died and joined the archangels.

Seeing Delilah on her knees before me, finding pleasure as she services me, is the epitome of peace and tranquility. And it takes all my willpower to withhold myself from thrusting in that perfect mouth of hers.

Delilah’s eyes lift, staring into my soul as she licks and sucks the length of me. My chest heaves, my fingers shake, and I gently cup her head, feeling the strands of her long hair flutter through my fingers.

Delilah moves then, squirming and rubbing her legs together, and that’s when I smell it. She’s aroused. My beautiful mate is on her knees before me and she is aroused.

The groan that leaves my lips is so loud and visceral I snap a silencing shield around the room. I can’t hold myself back anymore. I thrust, gently and slowly, but when Delilah hums around my length, nothing can stop me from taking her mouth.

“Look at you,” I groan. “So fucking beautiful.”

Delilah’s eyes close as her hand pulls away from my shaft and snakes between her thighs. She plunges her fingers inside, and her moan fills the room, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. I have to fist her hair to stop myself from taking control.

Her movements grow frenzied, wild, until she finally snaps open her eyes, pulls back until my tip pops out of her mouth, and shoves my chest with such force I’m suddenly sprawled on my back on the bed.

Before I can orientate myself, Delilah’s clothes are gone, leaving her in all her beautiful, naked glory as she hops on to straddle me. She gives me no warning before plunging herself down on my length.

The grunt that escapes me is more a cry of pleasure as Delilah throws her head back and rides me, grinding her beautiful pussy against me.

I can’t not touch her.

Not when she’s like this.

Not as the ecstasy of her pleasure overrides everything, as she finally takes control of what she feels within herself.

“Fuck, Angel. That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

My hands grip her hips punishingly but I can’t stop. Can’t stop watching her. Can’t stop touching her.

Sliding my hands up her body, I tweak her nipples, biting my tongue as a new wave of wetness pools between her thighs. Her hands fall over mine, urging me to continue my touch on her breasts.