On Wings of Passion

by M. D. Grimm

  “Yes,” he whispered. “I want to feel you.”

  Asagoroth growled before kneeling. He spread Roland wide open and slid his tongue across his asshole. Roland gasped and gripped the pool’s edge. He shifted his legs farther apart and even lifted one a little, wanting to give Asagoroth as much access as he could.

  Asagoroth took the invitation and lifted that leg higher, spreading Roland’s ass for the heated water and his wicked tongue. Roland whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut as Asagoroth was good to his word and devoured. A talented tongue and fingers stretched him and made him ready. No rush, no impatience, and it was clear Asagoroth enjoyed what he was doing, if the growly purrs were any indication.

  Roland was begging incoherently by the time Asagoroth began fucking him with that large tongue, preparing him so amazingly. He could have come from that alone, but he held back through sheer will. He wanted Asagoroth’s cock in him before he exploded.

  “You keep doing that,” Roland said, finally finding his words, “I will come without you.”

  Chuckling, Asagoroth rose and wrapped his arms securely around Roland. “No. You will come with me inside you so I can feel your body contract as I claim you.”

  Panting, Roland looked over his shoulder at Asagoroth’s amused look. “Hurry up then, dragon.”

  Asagoroth nipped his shoulder before adjusting his angle, and then Roland felt him. He bore down and breathed steadily as Asagoroth’s massive erection pushed past the ring of muscles, fitting solidly inside him. He groaned and dropped his head on the mossy ground. He was stretched wider than he’d ever been and loved it, the burn, the slight sting. Proof. Utter proof he had a dragon about to fuck him.

  Asagoroth slipped an arm around his waist while he wrapped the other under his arms, across his chest. With his broad chest pressed against Roland’s back, Asagoroth began to move. It took a moment for them to find a rhythm since Roland wasn’t going to stay still. He couldn’t. He had to have more friction, more heat, just more. Asagoroth put more force in his thrusts and nailed that exquisite spot inside Roland most lovers never seemed to locate.

  He flung his head back and cried out. Taking that for the encouragement it was, Asagoroth adjusted until he pegged that spot with every thrust of his hips. He was soon pounding mercilessly, churning the water, wrenching ragged screams from Roland’s throat. Grunts and growls answered him, and Asagoroth bit him again, at the same spot as before, breaking the skin.

  Whimpering, Roland reached behind and gripped one of Asagoroth’s horns, needing more connection, even though their bodies were nearly fused together, and Roland felt every move Asagoroth made. He could feel the growls as well as hear them, the slide of wet skin against wet skin another pleasurable sensation that layered on all the others, whipping through his body like a hurricane.

  He’d never felt so much, not with anyone.

  So this is passion.

  Asagoroth’s arms were a steel cage around his body, unwilling to let him go. Asagoroth lifted his face, his breaths ragged, though his thrusts never faltered or flagged. He must have more stamina than any creature alive.

  Asagoroth encircled Roland’s aching erection with his broad hand and stroked urgently.

  “Come for me,” Asagoroth said roughly. Demanding. “Come with me.”

  As if needing his permission, Roland finally let go and saw stars. He screamed again as his body exploded and a hot geyser filled him up. He vaguely heard Asagoroth’s roar of victory.

  Chapter Seven

  ROLAND JERKED awake when sunlight hit his closed lids. He grumbled and curled up tighter, covering his face with his arm. He was sore and happy about it and wanted to bask as long as he could. But the sunlight wasn’t going anywhere. Resigned to being awake, he opened his eyes, blinking in deference to the blinding rays, and found he was once again on Asagoroth’s giant palm. Warm and sated, he didn’t move immediately.

  They were still in the clearing with the heated pool. A few birds were twittering at the new day, and an amazing feeling of peace washed over Roland. What would it be like to wake like this every day? Sore and satisfied from a night of energetic sex, then a lazy waking before maybe more sex.

  Hold on there, angel. Roland shook his head to clear it of the dregs of lust and satiation.

  While Asagoroth didn’t seem to be the fickle sort, Roland couldn’t assume anything. It was a good sign he’d awakened on Asagoroth’s palm again, and all evidence of the night before pointed to genuine affection. But the first lover Roland had ever taken said all the right things, made all the right moves, and still fluttered away the next morning with barely a “Thanks, that was fun. Bye.”

  Roland knew his feelings for Asagoroth were in danger of deepening, and he couldn’t stop the fall or the exhilaration it brought. But what if he let himself get in too deep, and then Asagoroth rejected him?

  Swallowing hard, Roland sat up and carefully stretched. His muscles protested but also felt better for it. Asagoroth slept deeply, his heavy, steady breathing a solid rhythm in contrast to the erratic bird cries. He was close to Asagoroth’s face and wondered how much movement would awaken him.

  Did he feel the same connection Roland did? Did his feelings go deeper than fondness or lust?

  Roland slipped off Asagoroth’s palm and considered his own desires. What did he want from Asagoroth? What he’d just done was not only forbidden, but abhorrent to all angels. His sister might even disown him. He could be labeled outcast.

  The full weight of that crashed down on his head, and Roland covered his mouth to stifle a cry. He’d been living in the moment, letting passion override all other considerations. But now he thought, now he considered, and realized he’d made a colossal mistake.

  Or had he?

  Damn the Light!

  Roland turned away and walked to the pool, his legs slightly shaky but steady enough. He stared at the heated water that held their secret before abruptly sitting down to dangle his feet in it.

  “What am I going to do?” he whispered to himself. He ran his fingers through his hair and bumped against the aching bite mark. He fingered it and shivered.

  Reality one: angels and demons were enemies.

  Reality two: Asagoroth had captured four heirs and planned to hold them hostage until the angels surrendered to his dominance.

  Reality three: Roland had just let said dragon fuck him within an inch of his life. And liked it. A lot.

  “I want to do it again,” he murmured.

  Reality four: Asagoroth would continue with his plan to rule all the realms and…. Or would he?

  Roland looked over his shoulder. He supposed reality four hinged upon what Asagoroth felt for him. Did he feel enough affection to stop his campaign? For one little insignificant angel? What then? Asagoroth would obviously want something in return. Could Roland leave everything he’d ever known, his home, his friends and family, and run off with a dragon?

  Curling his knees to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on them. He was just fooling himself. Asagoroth might want to keep him as a lover and also dominate all the realms. But Roland would still be labeled a traitor to his people and made outcast. Or Asagoroth might simply say, “Thanks, that was fun. Now I have work to do,” and he’d continue to be a prisoner, and Asagoroth would still rule the realms.

  Roland buried his face against his knees and groaned.

  “Roland?”

  Swallowing hard, he lifted his head and stared at the water. “Good morning.”

  Hot breath washed over his back, and he hadn’t realized how cold he’d become.

  “Something is wrong.”

  Roland widened his eyes at Asagoroth’s perception. And the very question proved there was some affection or fondness. At least interest in something other than his body.

  “I’m just thinking.” It wasn’t a lie. He was thinking. He just wasn’t willing to subject Asagoroth to his jumbled thoughts.

  There was a significant pause before Asago
roth sighed, and hot air ghosted over his back again. “You regret.”

  The sadness in his tone had Roland’s stomach dropping and his heart pounding. He spun around to find Asagoroth watching him warily.

  “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t regret what we did. I enjoyed it far too much. I also want to do it again until we both can’t walk straight.”

  Asagoroth’s head perked up, and his eyes blazed with happy fire.

  “But,” he said, stressing the word. “Where does this leave us?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Roland took a deep breath and stood, hyperaware of his nakedness and wishing he had his robe. Asagoroth’s appreciative look wasn’t helping his focus, but it did reassure him Asagoroth wasn’t going anywhere quite yet.

  “I’m an angel, and you’re a dragon.” He was stating the obvious but had to be clear. “You want to conquer all the realms, and you’re holding four of my fellow angels hostage to do so. One of them is my sister. Angels would label me outcast and traitor if they knew about us.” He wrapped his arms around his body and forced himself to hold Asagoroth’s gaze. “So I’m asking you where this leaves us. Will you continue your campaign? Will you stop? Do you still want me? For how long? Should I simply forget everything that happened and go home with this secret?”

  Before he could say another word, Asagoroth stood and towered over him. He froze, tilting his head back. He’d nearly forgotten, somehow, how gigantic Asagoroth really was. That brief interlude with him in his other form had consumed him. Asagoroth’s magnificence bowled Roland over again, and he was even more aware of his nakedness.

  Massive onyx claws gouged into the moist ground, and that long tail slipped behind Roland, as if attempting to hold him in place. Asagoroth lowered his face, his gaze not amused.

  “You are not going anywhere.” Anger added an edge to his words.

  Roland gulped and hunched his shoulders.

  “You let me claim you, Roland,” Asagoroth continued. “You bear my mark.”

  The bite flared, and he barely resisted touching it. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

  “You’re mine.”

  Roland frowned. “But what does that mean? What do you want from me?”

  “Everything you are willing to give me.”

  “Why?”

  Asagoroth huffed a frustrated breath, and it nearly knocked Roland on his ass. “Again you ask me why.” Apparently upset, Asagoroth lifted his head and looked away, gazing toward the rising sun.

  Roland got the impression he was gathering his thoughts, choosing his words. A chilly morning wind rose up, and he shivered, his normally cool skin turning colder as the minutes ticked by. He shuffled over to Asagoroth and pressed against his leg since that and the massive foot were the only parts he could reach that would block him from the wind. Heat warmed his skin as he snuggled close. He rubbed his cheek against the scales.

  “Did you know that most demons desire angels?” Asagoroth asked.

  Roland shook his head.

  “I’m sure you have seen how my demons look at my hostages.”

  He thought back to the appreciative glances and nodded.

  “Some looked at you in such a way, but I dissuaded them from further consideration.”

  Roland snorted and petted his leg. “I’m sure you did.”

  “Demons desire the beauty of angels. Your kind are forbidden pleasures, and it is a constant burden for me to command the demons not to act on their needs.”

  Roland looked up, seeing only the underside of Asagoroth’s chin. “I was taught that angels and demons hated each other.”

  It was Asagoroth’s turn to snort. “No indeed. I don’t believe either of you can fully hate the other. I suspect angels are angry at demons for making them feel need, and demons are often angry with angels for their aloofness and denial. I believe that is why demons find such perverse pleasure in raiding angel settlements. Ruffling their feathers gives them some revenge and release for their pent-up frustrations.”

  “Is that why you desire me?” Roland asked softly. “I am something you’ve never had before? Something forbidden? A novelty?”

  A rumble vibrated in Asagoroth’s chest, not quite a growl, but neither was it a purr.

  “No, Roland. One grows bored with novelties. I shall never grow bored of you. My need for you deepens with every breath I take.”

  Roland closed his eyes and realized he felt the same. The longer he was with Asagoroth and the more he touched him, the more he wanted, the more he craved.

  “Please have patience with me,” he whispered. “I’m trying to understand you. I want to understand you. I enjoy being around you. I—I like you, Asa. A lot.”

  The tension in Asagoroth’s muscles eased, and he rubbed the side of his snout against Roland’s back.

  “You are precious to me.”

  Roland squeezed his eyes shut as his heart knocked hard against his chest.

  “More than all the riches and treasures in the realms, you are what I will protect against all who would harm you.”

  Tears burned his eyes, and he struggled to control them. He turned his head and looked into Asagoroth’s enormous eye, knowing his emotions were visible.

  “I really don’t deserve your attention,” he croaked with a shaky smile.

  Asagoroth’s gaze softened. “Deserved or not, you have it.” He paused. “I believe… you are my fiercest adversary. You have bested me. And yet I don’t mind losing to you. I feel as though I have won as well.”

  “Asa,” Roland said tremulously. He rubbed his eyes.

  “What do your tears mean?” he asked gently.

  Roland let out a soft, watery laugh and turned around fully. He took several deep breaths before focusing on Asagoroth again, leaning heavily against his leg.

  “You make me happy,” he said. “And no, I still can’t explain that to you. You just know it when you know it.”

  Asagoroth considered him for a moment, gathering his thoughts again.

  “Happy,” he finally said. “Yes. I know it now. You are my happiness.”

  I love you.

  The words rang in Roland’s head as he gazed slack-jawed at the titanic dragon. How was this possible? How was this real? He reached out a hand, and Asagoroth leaned into the touch, purring. Then he set his other hand and his forehead against the smooth scales, overwhelmed and so in love.

  “Roland,” Asagoroth said softly. “All my strength and all my power, I give to you. They are yours to command. I am yours to command.”

  Roland lifted his head, realizing Asagoroth’s solemn tone made his words sound like a vow. Roland saw his reflection in that large pupil, and he looked as shocked as he felt.

  “What?” he asked.

  “All I am is yours,” he said, his words barely a rumble. “Don’t leave me.”

  The sudden vulnerability hit Roland square in the face. Asagoroth was the ultimate predator, fierce and cunning, swift and merciless. He was tough and arrogant, and his confidence was so ingrained in his character that it was inconceivable he ever doubted himself. But at that moment, Asagoroth had dropped all his guards and shields, and he’d laid himself bare, figuratively exposing his neck and belly to someone he considered superior.

  To Roland.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Roland whispered. Asagoroth narrowed his eyes, and Roland held up a hand in placation. “I don’t want you to make a decision you will live to regret. Desire and passion are great and feel so good, but they don’t necessarily last.” It felt like someone was tearing out his heart as he spoke. “I want you, Asa. Don’t doubt that. I am overjoyed and exhilarated and scared by your words, and I understand the magnitude of what you’re offering. I really do. And I… I….”

  He stumbled, and his heart leapt in his throat. If Asagoroth could show such vulnerability, then he couldn’t do any less.

  “I love you.”

  Asagoroth blinked slowly, his entire focus on Roland. “I have hea
rd that word before, but I don’t know what it means.”

  Roland frowned. Not the response he was hoping for. “Have you never had someone love you? Surely other dragons or demons—”

  “Dragons are not loved. We are feared. We are followed.”

  Confused, Roland frowned harder. “But I know a few of your demon soldiers appear mated. There’s obvious affection there. So why can’t dragons…?”

  Asagoroth sighed heavily. “Dragons are made to destroy and conquer. We fight. We battle. It is all we know. It is all we do. There are mating seasons every twenty years, but those are short and not about affection.”

  Roland swallowed hard.

  “All other times we battle each other for dominance.” Asagoroth met his gaze. “The universe does not have enough room for more than one dragon. Only one will survive. Only one is meant to survive.”

  Roland stroked his cheek, sympathy hurting his heart. “You’ve been fighting all your life, haven’t you?”

  “Fighting is my life.” He paused. “Or was.”

  Roland smiled slightly.

  Asagoroth pressed into his touch. “There is something else you should know.”

  “What?”

  “Only a dragon can kill another dragon.” His eyes flashed darkly, an unknown emotion moving through him.

  “But if there is only one dragon left standing….”

  “Then that dragon is immortal.”

  Roland gaped. “Why would the One Who Brought the Light form dragons in such a way? For what purpose?”

  Asagoroth slightly shook his head. “Only dragons and a few trusted demons know this truth.”

  Roland pressed both hands to Asagoroth’s face and stared into his eyes. “You can trust me, my dragon, and you can tell me anything.”

  Asagoroth’s gaze softened, filled with adoration. “My angel.” He paused. “Tell me, please, what is love?”

  Roland chewed on his lower lip, trying to bring his thoughts back from the concept of immortal dragons. “It, well, I think love is a force that shows you what is most important.”