He moves his head down, his eyes closed now. What is Azrael thinking about? Is he…
“Victoria.”
“Yes?” half moan, half whisper.
“This is not something a man should see.”
Hate? Furious? Forget it. I’m just going to open this very nice nightstand drawer, grab my gun, and create two extra holes in his skull. How dare he? What the fuck, Professor? You tell me to do exactly this, and now you’re the one mad I did it? Fuck you, fuck you,fuck you.
“But you—” I try, getting increasingly more furious with each second.
“If that man is not me.”
Oh, Azrael is claiming me. As our eyes interlock, his hands move to his belt, and I fucking smile because I feel like I’ve just drawn a royal flush.
But he doesn’t undo it right away. He runs his thumb along the edge of the buckle, almost idly, leaving me impatient. He wants me to feel the delay in my bones, and he is very well succeeding at it.
“Azrael?” I ask. I think I gave him the wrong impression that he could still win tonight, and I’ve never been blamed for being a patient person. “You have a full five seconds to let me come or this,” flashing the vibrator, “will get into some very nasty places.”
He laughs but unfastens the belt, every motion too slow to counter the heat pooling between my legs. He doesn’t make any attempt to unzip the pants and just leans back in the chair, belt coiled in one hand like a leash.
“You’re still behind,” I say, moving the vibrator back between my legs. “If this is a game, you have some catching up to do.”
“I’m not in a rush,” he says while lowering the zipper just enough to show the edge of black fabric beneath, but he stops again.
“I said,” I gasp, “I want to see. Now.”
He cocks his head. “Then earn it.”
Oh, fuck him.
My back arches, and I don’t need more than a second before my vision blurry and the sensation in my body explodes. My heels dig into the mattress as I press the toy faster on my clit until my breath turns ragged. The moan is barbarous, and there is something wrong in the air because I swear I just heard my voice saying his name. That seems to be enough because with one move, he unzips the pants.
“Let me see how hard I make you.”
He slides one hand into his boxers and pulls them down with the other, grabbing the—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I am so, so screwed. He is huge, definitely split-in-half worthy. Thick, and already dripping for me.
I exhale, shaky. “Fuck.”
His fingers curled around the base, stroking, and I wish those were my fingers instead.
“Now be a good girl and earn it.”
Again. Fucking hell. I nearly finish from those two words alone.
I let the vibrator fall on the mattress and shove two fingers in my cunt, pounding until I finally touch the right spot. My thumb is circling my clit, and I’m so close. My movement grows frantic while I see Azrael jerking himself. This time though, I don’t stop and let myself ride the high of the orgasm while locking eyes with him the whole time.
I’m lightheaded and I can barely think clearly, but this is not about me.
His jaw tightens and his cock twitches under his touch as I move my fingers up my body all the way to my mouth. Moving my attention to my fingers, coated in my arousal, I can’t help but tease him.
“Should I let you taste me?”
He doesn’t answer but grips the arm of the chair like if he moved, he’d explode.
There is one way to push him beyond his limits. I move the hand back to my clit, exhausted from the self-induced orgasms, but willing to push myself for him, to show him everything. I want to make a mess—be a mess—and make him sit there and watch it.
He continues stroking from base to tip, precum slicking his fist. Watching him like this, almost undone, must be my new favorite show.