The Angel's Devilry

c o m p a n y

Dilara

I prop my feet atop the sentry's lap, eyeing my lavender toenails approvingly as I wiggle my toes. Brining the crystal glass to my lips, I take yet another swig of white wine, draining the remaining liquid. Already feeling the blissfully unwinding effects of the alcohol, I offer the man sprawled across my bed a sultry smirk.

He flashes a feline grin of his own, eyeing my nightdress— more appropriately my lack of nightdress— with an evident hunger. The scrap of white silk barely covers my ass, the material so thin not much is left to the imagination.

It truly doesn't matter what I'm wearing, I could be all bundled up and still being ogled over. I seem to have that sex appeal on everyone, the result of being born daughter to a lust spirit. Before she died, Mummy dearest had been teaching me how to work men since I was old enough to talk.

I'm not complaining, I have no shame in admitting I preen in the attention showered upon me, savoring the lingering stairs that seem to follow me wherever I go. I am a creature of habit I guess, taking after my fathers impulses and greed as well as my mothers adoration of attention.

I draw my thoughts away from my family, not wanting to submerge myself in the disarray of my parentage in this hot-blooded moment.

Propping myself onto my elbows, night dress dipping low to reveal a lavish view of my cleavage as I do so, I scan the man before me. He's handsome in more of a pretty-boy way. With his mused golden waves of hair, paired with a chiseled jaw and a set of soft looking full lips. Disregarding the dead give away that is a set of expansive golden feathered wings spurring from his broad shouldered back, at first appearance, he really does emit the image of a stereotypical angel.

Apparently impatient with our tempo, he takes it upon himself to speed things along. He stalks his way across my bed, the thick duvet sinking under his weight. Beneath his golden skin, lean muscles strain against his already bare chest. He's close enough now that I could lean forward and trail my tongue along the ridges of his abdomen. I smile slowly, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth as I try and stifle the creative ideas swarming my mind.

The angel watches me, letting out a deep sound of approval I fist a harsh handful of his hair. Propelling myself into a seated position, I drag his mouth up to mine. Our lips collide, less of a kiss and more of a clash as we devour one another. I nip at his bottom lip, tugging the hot skin into my mouth before sweeping my tongue against his teeth as I wordlessly ask for entrance. He groans in compliance, a deep, reverberating sound that has me grinding against him. Desire surges through me, a quick breath escaping my lips as his hands fasten themselves onto my hips.

I secure my legs so I straddle his middle, pushing his chest down and lying him flat against the mattress as I begin rolling my hips. Every movement applies a glorious amount of friction right where I need it. The angel curses, grabbing my ass and securing me in place as he rocks his rigid dick against me. I smirk in satisfaction. Leaning forward and pressing my heavy chest against his panting one, I trace the tip of my tongue along the column of his throat. A heavenly whine escapes him, a sexy whimper that shouldn't surely be as arousing as it is.

His fingers stroke their way up the back of my thighs, pausing only slightly as they reach the hem of my nightdress. He grips the hem of the garment, easing the fabric over the tops of my thighs until it's pooling around my waste. He lets out an almost strained sound as his hungry eyes devour every inch of me.

Hooking my fingers into the waistband of his trousers, I decide playtime is over. I begin slowly easing his pants downward to reveal the mighty v of his abdomen, trailing a finger down the sculpted muscle running diagonally from his hip bones. The male shudders beneath my touch.