Chapter Five: The Morning After
965 Words
Selene woke up to a dull, aching soreness between her legs.
The moment she shifted, heat rushed up her neck. Every movement reminded her exactly what had happened last night.
Her thighs ached.
Her body felt heavy, languid, sore in places she never thought possible.
And the worst part? She wasn’t alone.
A warm hand slid lazily over her waist.
A deep, satisfied hum vibrated behind her, followed by the teasing brush of lips against her bare shoulder.
“Awake so soon?”
Azrael’s voice was husky—thick with amusement.
Selene froze. Memories of last night came flooding back, sharp and merciless.
The way he had kissed her—possessed her.
The way he had whispered sinful things in her ear as he unraveled her piece by piece.
The way she had clung to him—moaned his name, begged for more.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Gods, what had she done?
Azrael’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. His warmth seeped into her, too solid, too real.
“Why so tense, little wife?” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. “Regretting last night?”
Selene scowled and elbowed him in the ribs.
He let out a low chuckle. The bastard was enjoying this.
“I should kill you,” she muttered.
Azrael smirked against her skin. “You already tried, remember? Didn’t go very well for you.”
Selene turned her head to glare at him. Big mistake.
Azrael was too close. His dark red eyes glowed with lazy satisfaction, his messy black hair falling over his forehead.
He looked devastatingly handsome.
Worse—he knew it.
His gaze flickered over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks, the way her lips were slightly swollen.
Then, deliberately, his gaze trailed lower.
Selene’s breath hitched.
Because the sheet had slipped down, baring her shoulder, the curve of her collarbone—and the faint marks he had left on her skin.
Azrael’s smirk widened.
“Hmm. You look…” He paused, dragging his fingers lazily down her arm. “A little sore, wife.”
Selene clenched her teeth. “Shut up.”
“I don’t think I will.” He propped himself up on one elbow, grinning like a man who had won a battle. “Shall I carry you today? I doubt you’ll be able to walk properly after last night.”
Selene threw a pillow at his face.
He caught it effortlessly, laughing.
“Admit it,” he teased. “You enjoyed every second.”
Selene refused to dignify that with an answer.
She tried to move—and immediately regretted it.
The sharp ache between her thighs made her freeze. Her legs felt useless.
Azrael noticed.
His eyes gleamed. “Oh? What’s wrong? Feeling a little weak?”
Selene grabbed the sheet and yanked it over her head.
She was never getting out of bed again.
—
A Long, Slow Morning
Selene refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting just how much he had ruined her last night.
But Azrael was merciless.
When a servant knocked, asking if they would join the morning meal, Azrael had the audacity to answer for her.
“Not today,” he called out. “My wife is feeling… delicate.”
Selene nearly choked on air.
The servant hesitated. “Shall I bring breakfast to your chambers, my lord?”
Azrael grinned. “Yes. And bring extra honey. She’ll need the energy.”
The moment the door closed, Selene shoved him. “You’re insufferable.”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back against him. Effortlessly.
“Am I?” His voice was all dark amusement. “Because last night, you were moaning my name like a prayer.”
Selene tried to smack him.
He caught her hand and kissed her palm.
Her breath stopped.
Azrael wasn’t just teasing anymore.
His lips trailed from her palm to her wrist, slow and warm. His fingers brushed her waist, holding her close, his body still lazily pressed against hers.
Her pulse skipped.
Gods, he was dangerous.
“Let me go,” she muttered.
Azrael smirked. “Make me.”
She hated how her skin burned at his touch. Hated the way her body leaned into him despite her better judgment.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
She was supposed to seduce him, not get seduced herself.
She needed to regain control.
So Selene took a slow breath, lifted herself slightly—
—and pressed a soft kiss to his throat.
Azrael froze.
Just for a second.
Then, his grip on her waist tightened.
Selene smirked against his skin. Two can play this game.
Her lips brushed against his collarbone, light as a feather. Then lower.
Azrael’s breath came slower, heavier. His muscles tensed beneath her.
Selene dragged her nails down his chest, teasing, taunting—
And then, just as his fingers clenched against her skin—
She pulled back.
Slipped out of bed.
And walked away.
Azrael exhaled sharply. “You little—”
Selene smirked over her shoulder. “Something wrong, husband?”
Azrael’s eyes burned.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
A dark, dangerous, wolfish smile.
Selene’s stomach flipped.
Maybe taunting a demon lord wasn’t her smartest decision.
Before she could take another step, Azrael moved.
One second, he was lounging in bed.
The next—he was behind her.
Selene gasped as he scooped her up effortlessly, throwing her back onto the bed.
His body hovered over hers, pinning her beneath him.
His red eyes glowed.
His voice was low, warning, and full of sinful promise.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, little wife.”
Selene swallowed.
Azrael smirked.
Then, without another word, he kissed her breathless.
And this time—he wasn’t letting her escape.
—
End of Chapter.
- Writer
