TWENTY-TWO

                                    

                                          
Landing on the balcony edge, Irina quickly unclasped her hands gripped around Azazel's neck. She slid down his torso, her shirt gliding up with the friction of their bodies against one another. It stopped high enough to give Azazel a glimpse of the underside of her bra but only a glimpse. 
He reviled the strength of mortal men, but still, he succame to a woman's beauty. 
"Careful," Azazel warned, holding her arm as she balanced herself on her own two feet. His eyes stayed on her exposed flesh, his hands brushing down her sides as he released her. 
"I'm okay," Irina assured, fixing her clothing anxiously. Her skin crawled and lit with a buzzing sensation, the areas where his claws had merely skimmed her flesh were alight. 
Azazel tore away, opened the balcony door, and ushered her inside, "Don't tell your father about this."
"I would never see the outside of my bedroom again. Why would I tell him anything?" Irina huffed, following him into his dark bedroom. 
"Because you're too good for your own senses." Azazel mumbled, shaking his head, "You'll get me killed if you tell him anything. Especially-" He turned around, grabbed her by the throat, and thrust her against the glass doors to the balcony. The sheer curtains fell off their posts from the impact, falling to cover the glass panes of the door. 
"Especially, if he finds out what you're going to owe me. Don't forget what you've promised me." Azazel hissed in her ear, his tongue caressing her lobe. His fingers curled tighter around her neck, his other hand dragging down to her waist. Her heart beat rapidly, his throat rumbling with a growl that made her shiver and ache in places that she never felt melt like that before, "Anything I want. Right?" His voice made her knees weak and her breath quickened into whimpering moans, "Right, lux mea?" 
"What do you want?" She asked, biting her lip. 
"I want you." Azazel smirked against her cheek, the cold tone seeping into her skin, "I assume you have no objection." 
"Would it matter even if I did?" Irina's lips parted as she panted, her small chest rising with each nervous huff of air. She was basically swinging on a rope tied to his finger. He had the control, whether she fought him or not. 
And she didn't want to fight him. 
"Not at all Lux Mea. Now go. Find your dad and I'll find you later when I require you." 
"When you require me?" Irina wanted to roll her eyes to the back of her skull. This man had the nerve to speak to her like she was nothing and she ate it out of his hand like a dog. She would not allow him to belittle her in such a way. 
Azazel noticed the crease in her brow and the downward pull of her lips. The harsh avoidance of her gaze, staring past him to the door. 
"Oh, no-" He caught his chuckle in his throat, "you think-"
"I think what?" She clipped, glaring at him from the corner of her eye, "If I am not required then I should leave as you said." 
"Would you like to know when it is I require you?" He was still so close, his body pressed into to her like they were meant to be one, "When my fingers ache to caress you. When my eyes long to see you. When my skin grows weary for your touch. When my loins beg me to find you and steal you into my bed. That's when I'll find you mate."