by A. J. Norris
He put the towels up to his face and groaned. Drops of blood ran down his chest. Aza pulled the towel away for a second. It was covered in red, but the flow had already slowed. She knelt in front of him. Her knees cracked as she lowered herself.
“Are you all right?” His eyes flipped over to hers. “I’m so sorry. I…I shouldn’t’ve kissed you like that. I know you hate to be touched.”
So stupid.
He took the towel away from his face again and cleaned himself the best he could. The towel got chucked to the floor. As she crawled over to retrieve the bloody mess, pressure in her upper back stopped her. She sat up on her knees and reached her hand around to feel the place where the pressure felt the strongest. Her skin was smooth and the painful pressure stopped.
What the hell?
Julia looked up to see Aza watching her. His forehead crinkled from how wide his eyes were. “What’s that look for?”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Instead of speaking, he went to the bathroom and closed himself in. The sink faucet turned on. She heard water splashing around for a few minutes then everything went quiet. Julia sat on the floor hugging her knees to her chest. How could she try kissing him? Gawd, he already told her he didn’t want to be touched. But why? This question rattled around inside her head. Obviously, he’d been abused at some point. Of course, he had been, he was a demon. That place he was from couldn’t be a happy place of peace and tranquility.
She went to the bathroom and knocked gently. “Aza. Aza, you okay in there?” Julia tugged the lapels of the robe together. The door cracked open a tiny bit. A sliver of his face showed. She put her hand around the door in case he decided to shut it again. “Hey, can I come in?” she whispered.
“As long as you don’t touch me again.” He stepped back and allowed her to enter.
His nose was slightly swollen, though not bleeding anymore. His face was also a little discolored, although nothing horrible. She looked over his features. “I don’t think it’s broken or anything. You’ll probably have black eyes…” Her words trailed off as he stared at her mouth. “Why are you, looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he rumbled.
“Like you want to either kill me or kiss me, I can’t tell which.”
“I definitely don’t want to kiss you.” His pupils flared. He licked his lips.
Julia’s jaw dropped. She’d heard his words and knew what they meant all strung together in the same sentence, but they didn’t sound like a rejection. Her head tilted back as he stepped closer. His naked body brushed against her robe. She released the lapels and the garment parted at the top. Her cleavage was revealed down the center of her torso.
Aza’s face hovered over hers. His scent intoxicated her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Aza’zel
Aza looked down at Julia. Her once pale reddish blonde hair had turned more golden from when she was a child. She had tasted like nectar when she’d pressed her lips to his out in the bedroom. He knew the sweetness was from Abaddon. Julia was Tainted by the Demon Lord, poisoned by his venom.
The bathroom door shut when Julia backed up against it. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why she’d done that, until he realized his hands were on her shoulders. He’d guided her toward the door. Looking down between them, he could see the skin and side swells of her breasts. He swallowed hard.
Oh, Deus.
How was this helping them get the amulet back? It wasn’t. Still, he found that he wanted to taste her again. His body needed to be touched even if he didn’t.
“Um…are you okay?” she asked. “Because your—”
He nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“—fingers are digging into my shoulders. Let go.” She twisted and shrugged his hands off her shoulders. The top of the robe opened further. His breath caught. Her hard nipples were the only things keeping the sides from falling away and completely baring her breasts to him.
Aza moved backward. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She sighed and faced the door. “You didn’t.”
His eyes widened. “No?”
“No. But I don’t get why you’re allowed to touch me, but I can’t get near you.” Her hand gripped the doorknob.
“That’s not true, you can get near me.”
She opened the door into the bedroom and said over her shoulder, “Yeah, just not touch you.”
He followed her out, close to her heels, stalking her like prey. “Why do you want to touch me?”
“Why not?”
Aza drew his head back. What did this mean? Julia confused him. First she insulted him, probably more than once, he just didn’t know how many times, and secondly, she seemed genuinely remorseful. He squeezed his eyes shut. His mind was cluttered with all this stuff and the things he once knew to be true about himself. Now he wasn’t sure who or what he really was. He was definitely not human with the way he’d growled earlier, but somehow was not a demon either. At least he didn’t think so. He sat down on the bed and leaned over, propping his chin on his palm with an elbow on a thigh. When he glanced at her, Julia hadn’t fixed the front of her robe. It still hung open above the belt, loosely tied at the waist.
“I asked you a question. Why not?”
He sighed heavily. “Because I don’t like it.”
“Why? What’s wrong with you?” She spoke softer, “I mean, what happened to you?”
“Nothing I want to talk about.”
No…what?
He’d admitted something had happened? Where did that come from?
“I won’t judge you.”
“Why would you judge me?”
Julia blew out a breath. Some loose strands of hair not pinned up on the top of her head floated around her face. He hardened again. This was becoming a real burden. Not enough to want goat legs back or anything, though.
“Julia…nothing happened.”
No, just been tortured and groped against my will.
“Where I come from, no one touches you.”
Not unless they intend to hurt you.
“No one? How can you stand it? Everyone needs a little contact. I’d go crazy.” She shuddered and sat beside him on the bed.
“You’re not me.” He scooted over to put more distance between their thighs.
“So you’ve never been touched?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Okaaay, then what’s the issue, exactly?”
“You’re not going to leave me alone about this, are you?”
“Nope. If we’re going to working together, then I have the right to know.”
He didn’t think her logic was sound, but felt compelled to answer anyway. “The only time I’ve been touched has been to inflict pain or…or…” Aza took a deep breath.
“Were you raped?”
“No!” He shot off the bed.
“Sorry. Easy. I didn’t—”
He glowered at her. “I. Have. Not. Been. Raped.”
“Okay. Okay.”
He paced the floor in front of the bed. “It’s just that I’ve never known a gentle hand. Torture and pain are all I know.”
“Oh my God, never even been hugged before. Not even from your mother?”
“I don’t have a mother. And I…” He couldn’t tell her about the hug from Deus. How devastated he was when it had been taken away from him. The emptiness he felt and never wanted to feel again.
“There’s more?” He looked at the floor and nodded, but couldn’t meet her eyes. “Aza, look at me.” After several moments, he looked up. “What if I don’t touch you, but you touch me? Would that be okay?”
Why does she want this?
More importantly, why did he?
“Julia, I’m,” he sighed, “I’m a monster, a demon.”
“That’s okay, so am I.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am. I killed my best friend, and I’m not sure I feel badly
about it. See? Monster.”
Aza groaned quietly. “So you think a demon touching you would be a good thing? This will clean your slate, absolve you of your crimes? Your need for remorse?”
“No. Nothing like that. I—”
“Maybe you should forgive yourself instead.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Julia
“Maybe you should forgive yourself instead,” Julia muttered under her breath. Who was he to judge?
What. Ever.
“What if I don’t want to?”
Aza cleared his throat. “Why do you think you’re still here?”
She looked up at him and he stopped pacing. “I dunno.”
“I don’t know either. I think we’re supposed to figure it out. Together.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re more than the absentminded demon I thought you were?”
“I dunno.”
Julia tossed her head back and laughed. “Come here. Please.” He blinked at her with those deep set eyes. She put a hand out to him. His body sagged as he walked toward her. The steel cock he sported hadn’t completely gone flaccid yet. When he reached her, she was eye-level with his member. He smirked down at her and her cheeks heated.
“This is a terrible idea,” he whispered.
“I know.” Neither of them had said what the terrible idea was, but going by his heavy eyelids and engorged manliness, they both knew.
“Lay down on the bed.” He loomed over her from the side of the mattress. “Can I trust you not to touch me?”
“I think so.” Heat flooded her core and she felt herself getting wetter. Her nipples beaded up again. The terry cloth fabric rasped against them as he slid the sides apart. “Don’t hurt me,” she said.
The tie around her waist released. She felt the warmth of his hands, even though he hadn’t touched her. He opened the bottom half of the robe. Her lips parted. Her body jerked slightly when he took both her hands. He pressed her palms together and wound the bathrobe belt around her wrists, securing the ends. Then he lifted her arms over her head.
“I won’t touch you, I promise.”
Aza placed a hand on her stomach. She quivered. Guess he wasn’t shy after all. He rubbed in circles, tracing a finger around her navel.
She giggled. “That tickles.” Julia gasped and quietly whimpered as his hands traveled up her ribcage. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Yes, but she wanted more. She arched her back, hoping he’d take the hint. Her breasts needed attention.
He ran his hands over her shoulders and down the center of her upper body. A tease. His hands grazed the sides of her swells. “More?” he asked.
Julia trembled on her inhale and exhale. “Yes,” she croaked.
Aza ran a finger around both nipples at the same time, but didn’t stop after once; he kept going.
“Oh, god,” she breathed. Her whole body tensed—thigh muscles contracted, her sex clenched. She rocked her hips up and down. “That feels…so good.” He was bent over her now. She wanted to dive her hands into his hair. Except she didn’t want him to stop, so she left her hands where they were. Hopefully, he would allow her to touch him at a later point. Right now…she was about to orgasm.
“Should I stop?”
“Oh, God, no. Go lower.”
“Lower?”
“Yeah.” She wished he’d kiss her breasts. Run his tongue over her light pink tips.
He took one hand and smoothed the palm down over her small patch of blonde curls. “What do I do here?” he asked, but seemed to be talking to himself; he’d figured out what to do with her top half.
Julia helped him out by putting her knees up and flopping her legs apart. He moaned his approval. He rubbed the top of her sex, snaked a finger around to her opening.
Oh, God. Yes.
She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out and scaring him. Then he dipped his finger inside her. He checked her face; she nodded. He pressed further in, she knew now, with his middle finger. Aza pressed the finger to her G-spot. “Oh, yeah, right there.”
“Where? Right here?” He wiggled his finger.
“Yes…keep…doing that.” And he did. Over and over.
Her inner walls began to spasm. She arched her back as her orgasm pulsed around his fingers. This time, she cried out. “Aza!”
He gasped and retracted his hands. “Are you all right? Did I hurt—”
“Not at all.” Her mind and body were in a blissful state. She smiled up at his worried face. “Relax, I’m fine. More than fine.”
“You had an orgasm, then. I’ve heard these throughout my master’s chambers. I think.”
“That beast has sex?”
“He doesn’t always look like a beast in our realm.”
“What does he look like then?”
“More human. With horns. Why do you ask?”
Julia snorted. Was he jealous? “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Do not speak of him.”
“Sorry, don’t worry, not interested in him. Can you untie my hands?” He unknotted the belt and sat on the end of the bed at her feet. “Hey, anytime you want to do that again…yeah.”
Aza kept quiet.
“You all right? I didn’t traumatize you, did I?” she asked, leaning around him. He clutched his cock. “Oh. You need relief, huh?”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Virgil
Maxwell the Healer emerged from the swirling white mist and the portal to Arcadia slammed shut. The double doors located in the basement of the dance club, Eternity, served as the link between Earth and angels’ home realm. Most humans termed the dimension Heaven. Over the millennia, angels had picked up some of the jargon from humans, such as the phrases, ‘Oh, my God’, ‘Heaven forbid’, and his personal favorite, ‘God only knows’. Virgil the Redeemer, didn’t believe God or Deus, as all of Arcadia called him, knew everything. The deity was powerful and you didn’t cross him, at least not more than once. Although, Abaddon had been known to blur that line a few times.
While this wasn’t the only way in, it was the only way to return to Earth at the same point in time you left. Max dressed in the clothes he’d discarded on a bench near the portal; items from the Earth’s realm weren’t permitted in Arcadia. Max dyed his hair a different color every other week. The week’s color was apparently cobalt blue.
Virgil eyed the angel and noted his hair reminded him of sunlit sapphires; beautiful, but hideous on the male’s head. Virgil shook his head at Max’s clothes. He wore blue vinyl skintight pants that matched his hair, and no shirt. On his feet were thick-soled black knee-high boots with numerous silver buckles. The only thing that wasn’t ridiculous about the male’s appearance were his wings. Max had the whitest wings he’d ever seen. His own were white, but these beauties were so dazzlingly bright, they glowed. And if you looked closely enough, tiny flashes made them seem as if they sparkled. This word wasn’t masculine, but “sparkled” was the only way to describe it.
The Healer flapped his wings a couple of times then settled them against his backside. He looked up and caught Virgil staring at him. One of his eyebrows raised. “Can I help you with something?”
“No. Well, there is this one thing,” Virgil said. He paused and stroked his Van Dyke into a point.
After a long pause, Max put his palms out. “Well? Out with it.”
“I saw Ra’zael the Guardian.”
The blue-haired angel stilled. “Where?”
“In the hallway of Elliott’s apartment building. He was with an Ephemeral Spirit.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “What were they doing there?”
Virgil shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”
“You make me tired.” Max ran his fingers through his spiky hair. “Didn’t they do anything? Or did they just stand there with their thumbs up their asses?”
“They knocked on someone’s door, went inside.”
“That’s it?”
“I didn’t see
anything else. I went back inside Elliott’s. But he didn’t have wings and seemed afraid of me.”
“And what about the Ephemeral?”
“Female. If I had to guess, somewhere around eighteen, nineteen years old. Strawberry blonde hair. No wings.”
“I think what Deus told me was correct. Ra’zael has fallen.”
“I tend to agree with you. The question is, was it on purpose?”
“That doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“No, not to Abaddon, it doesn’t.” Virgil paced the floor in front of the double doors that led to Arcadia. Deus had banned him from going home unless it was an emergency. He stared at the doors, willing them to open so he could get a glimpse. The doors rattled, but wouldn’t budge. He sighed deeply.
Virgil pivoted on the polished brick floor toward the room. The basement was a secret meeting place for angels in the metro Detroit area, the only way in an elevator from the club above their heads. Eternity was owned by the collective angels in the area. The profits were split equally among the hundred or so angels for living expenses. He walked along the brick path down the center of the great room. The ceiling was high enough to spread your wings, but not so high you could stay in the air for a long period of time without bumping your head. Lavender carpeting lined the floor on either side of the path. Various pieces of furniture were scattered throughout the room, and on any given day, twenty or thirty angels lounged around.
He never paid attention to the tapestries on the walls of female warrior angels in battle with demons. Today was no exception. Passing by the perpetual banquet of food laid out, he picked up a handful of grapes on his way out.
Back at the apartment, he sat on the couch, listening to Amalya and Elliott make love. Twenty minutes after the noises ended, he knew it was safe to join them. He didn’t like to sleep alone. Although he had once been attracted to Amalya, he respected her and her relationship with Elliott. He wouldn’t think of touching her anyway, angel law required hands-off of mated females. If he were to cross the line, even by accident, he’d be subjected to punishment by Elliott. No thanks. He honestly wanted to be around other angels. All the time. Not that that was always a possibility.
