Novel & Cerita Is Book Of Azrael Spicy

My body feels sore in the best way, but even though I want to rest, I can clearly see the hunger and anger in Raziel’s eyes. He is not done with me yet. Still breathing raggedly, I try not to think about the second round of punishment waiting for me. The air in the room is filled with the scent of our mixed releases and my own arousal, my body still craving for more despite the savage manner he fucked me on the bench.

Something happened tonight," I whispered urgently. Alex's expression turned inquisitive, and he nodded. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice low and concerned. I took a deep breath, preparing to unfold the tangled threads of my encounter with Christy and the emotions Natalie had awakened within me. "Yeah, what... DID?" Alex emphasized, his voice laced with curiosity. His gaze drifted away, fixated on a captivating figure across the room. I followed his line of sight, and my heart skipped a beat. Christiana stood poised, radiant in a stunning green lace dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The garment shimmered under the light, accentuating her beauty.

said Sven. “He’s right,” Ezekiel agreed. “Compassion is a strength,” I said. “Not a weakness. If we had more compassion for one another, then perhaps we’d be working together.” “We are working together,” said Ezekiel. “And when this is over, all of Mekra will thank you for your sacrifice. Perhaps your martyrdom will even get you into Heaven.” He snorted with laughter. “Not likely, though.” “I don’t think I believe in Heaven anymore,” I said. “Certainly not your Heaven. The sea is red. The sun and moon have been swallowed. If there is a Heaven at war with Hell, I think it’s clear who’s won.”

They were magnificent terrors, each more alluring and dangerous than the last. Azrael, the eldest Prince of Wrath, stepped forward first. Towering over seven feet with obsidian skin that gleamed like polished night, massive curved horns crowning his head, and molten gold eyes that pierced straight through my soul. His muscular physique was barely restrained by straps of dark leather and chains that accentuated every ridge of his powerful chest and arms. “A bold little mortal,” he rumbled, his voice a deep caress that vibrated through my core. His gaze swept over me slowly, lingering on the swell of my breasts, the curve of my hips, the way my robes clung to my thick thighs. “And what a delic

“You actually thought this through, huh? A secret rooftop garden and a hidden library… You’re more sentimental than you let on, Azrael.” He smirked faintly, but there was no teasing in his eyes. “Don’t spread that around. I’ve got a reputation to keep.” I studied him for a moment, then looked away before my heart betrayed me. A library. Pictures. Happy memories this place barely let us hold onto. It was perfect. “You’ll handle the books then?” I asked, keeping my voice steady. Azrael nodded. “I know his favorites. The ones he rereads until the pages wear thin. I’ll track down copies of those.”

Lila followed the ritual exactly — black candles, fresh blood from her palm, the ancient words spoken at midnight under a blood moon. The air grew thick and hot. The candles flared unnaturally high. Then the shadows in the room coalesced into something massive. He stepped out of the darkness like he owned it. Azrael was beautiful in the most terrifying way. Towering over seven feet tall, with obsidian skin that seemed to drink in light, glowing crimson eyes, and a muscular body carved from pure sin. Horns curved back from his head, and massive black wings were folded behind him. His presence filled the room with raw, ancient power.

The horrible experience from earlier had already faded, leaving only bitter residue. "Be careful what you ask for, little one." Azriel's growl sent shivers down my spine. "I won't stop even if you beg me to." "Good. I don't want you to stop." I wanted this man with the devastating eyes to fill my thoughts with sin. He was insanely hot—so much so my pulse skipped with every breath. He looked amused, aroused, his nostrils flaring. His dark laugh awakened something primal in me, conjuring vivid images of the filthy things I wanted him to do.

Sinclair watching us lazily from his seat on the couch, his protruded cock still bobbing as he puffed on his cigar. His eyes met mine and he smirked. Something about how sensual it was made my stomach tickle. He crushed the butt of his cigar on the ashtray, still holding my gaze. He poured whiskey slowly into a glass cup, and my eyes flickered his fingers closed round the glass as he swirled the liquid slowly, and brought it to his lips. When I looked up, his eyes were still holding mine down, black with lust. His gaze flickered down to my breasts, and my stomach kicked when he bit his lips.