Chapter 140 My Angel | 033
NOELLE
The rest of my lectures thankfully roll by smoothly. I'm just about to leave when Blair comes up to me with a smile on her face.
"I was just thinking...how about we hang out this evening at my place?" She asks, and I try not to wince because I really just want to go home to Azren.
A part of me is worried that the longer we stay apart, the greater the chances of Sabrina's spell returning stronger.
"How about this weekend instead?" I utter, and she beams.
"That'll be—"
Just then, a shadow falls over us. We both turn to see a good-looking blond with piercing green eyes. He leans in and swings his arm over Blair's shoulder, eyeing me carefully. Something about him reminds me of…Haden.
"Who's this, sis?" He asks, and she snorts.
"What are you doing, Coop? I thought we agreed to pretend that we're strangers in school?" She says, and I arch a brow.
"You've never had a friend this pretty. That's why I'm curious," he says, his gaze lingering on me in a way that makes me want to disappear.
Is he attracted or just intrigued? Either way, this...is bad.
Blair sighs. "Noelle, meet my stepbrother, Cooper. He's a total pain in the ass."
Cooper tilts his head as if he's trying to get a closer look at me. And that's when I see it. The tattoo along his neck: "Cancer, fuck off."
My throat tightens. Is he...a patient? Or...he used to?
On closer look, there are bags under his eyes, and he looks a little skinny. But it isn't really the sickly kind.
He must've noticed me staring. He smiles, patting my cheek.
"Aren't you the cutest? Look at your face," he drawls, and I frown, pulling away slowly.
Blair chuckles.
"See you around, chubby cheeks," he tells me and walks away, leaving me completely startled.
My cheeks burn, his "nickname" for me reminding me of Jake. Instinctively, I pat my cheeks.
Are my cheeks really that puffy? I can't help but wonder.
Blair reaches over to pinch my cheek lightly. "He's right. You're so cute. So, see you this weekend?"
I nod, and she holds out a hand for my phone. We quickly exchange phone numbers, and then I head towards the parking lot where I know the vehicle Azren had assigned to me awaits.
...
Now I'm all alone in this big house trying to distract myself with TV. But honestly, it's not working. It’s been two hours since I got here.
I cooked earlier and cleaned up. Now, I'm wearing one of my husband’s button-downs, his scent wrapping around me. I'm so bored—
I perk up when I hear the PIN code at the front door. My heart starts to beat faster as I rise to my feet. Is it Azren? Is he still in his right mind?
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I approach the door. And when it finally slides open, I literally hold my breath. Azren walks in, sees me and shuts the door behind him.
There's a paper bag in one hand and two cups of milkshake in the other.
He leans against the wall and blinks at me.
"No welcome hug for me?" He drawls, smirking.
A squeal of joy tears out of me as I run towards him, jumping into his arms. He catches me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist, my arms around his neck.
He chuckles, the low rumble flooding my insides with a bubbly warmth.
"Oh, you're really okay," I whisper, burying my face against his neck, his sweet scent comforting me.
Tears of joy sting my eyes as I hold him tight, trying not to cry from the overwhelming feelings.
"I'm here," he assures me, kissing my head.
"Thank you for coming back to me," I whisper, my voice shaky.
"I'll always come back to you, Angel. Always."
I pull back to cup his face, searching his beautiful eyes.
"Promise?"
He nods. "I promise."
Breaking into a smile, I kiss him hard, my fingers sliding into his hair. "I missed you so much, Az," I whisper in between kisses, molding my lips against his.
He kisses me harder, walking us towards the couch while I stick to him like a koala.
Then he sits us on the couch, deepening the kiss until my toes curl, my heart pounding hard.
When he finally ends the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine for a moment, his eyes closed. Then he straightens, handing me the paper bag and one of the milkshake.
"For me?" I ask and he nods.
"But...I..." I stammer.
He watches me closely. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"Don't you think I'm fat?" I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.
He goes very still.
Azren doesn't answer right away. Instead, he reaches out and takes my wrist, rubbing a soft circle there.
"Angel," he murmurs, his voice rough. "If you could see the way I see you... you'd never ask that."
My breath catches in my throat.
He lifts his other hand and cups my cheek, tilting my face up until I'm forced to meet his eyes. There's no teasing there now. No smirk either. Only raw sincerity, almost painful in its intensity.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" he continues quietly. "I see warmth. I see softness that survived things meant to harden you. I see someone who makes the world feel less cruel just by existing in it."
My eyes burn.
"You don't take up too much space," he says. "You make the space worth living in."
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.
He leans in and brushes his forehead against mine, breathing me in.
"I don't want you smaller," he adds, his gaze holding mine. "I don't want you different. I just...want you."
Then slowly, his fingers trail down to the front of the button-down I'm wearing.
His gaze drops, his pupils darkening as the fabric parts just enough to hint at skin and the curve beneath. He swallows hard, his jaw tightening as if the sight of me is doing dangerous things to his self-control.
The way he looks at me isn't casual hunger.
It's desperate.
"Do you have any idea," he whispers, his eyes still locked on me, "how hard it is not to lose my mind over you every single day?"
His thumb hooks lightly into the edge of the fabric.
"I want you to know this," he adds softly, lifting his gaze back to my face. "Nothing about you needs fixing.”
I gulp, feeling overwhelmed.
He leans in to press a kiss to my throat. “Sweetheart...I'm the lucky one."
His fingers work on the first button of the shirt. Then the next. He watches as the shirt falls open completely, exposing me to his gaze.
My full breasts spill out, my nipples already tightening under the sudden attention.
Azren makes a sound low in his throat, a mix of a growl and a reverent sigh. His eyes go molten, my thighs clenching instinctively.
"Fuck," he breathes, almost to himself. "Look at you."
He doesn't touch me right away. He just stares, like a man who's been starving and finally found a feast.
Then, slowly, he lifts the milkshake from the table. The condensation is already dripping down the cup. He brings the straw to his lips first, takes a long pull of the thick, sweet vanilla, his eyes never leaving my chest.
Then he leans in.
The cold rim of the cup presses gently against one of my breasts, making me gasp. He tilts it carefully, letting a slow trickle of the creamy milkshake slide over my skin.
The chill makes my nipple pebble harder instantly. A droplet catches on the already beaded tip and clings there.
Azren groans.
He lowers his head and catches that droplet with the flat of his tongue. Then he closes his lips around the peak and sucks hard.
I cry out, my back arching. The combination of the cold milkshake and his hot wet mouth is devastating.
He pulls deeper, his tongue swirling. One hand cups my boob, kneading gently, while the other keeps the cup tilted so more milkshake drizzles over the other breast.
"Oh—Az—!" My fingers curl in his hair, my hips rocking helplessly against him.
He switches sides, lapping up the sticky trail first, then latching on again. The wet sounds of his mouth working me fill the room. Every pull sends a jolt straight between my legs.
I'm moaning senselessly now, letting out little whimpers that I can't control.
"Azren—oh—yes—"
He only growls against my skin, the vibration making me shudder. He releases the nipple with a wet pop, only to drag his tongue through the sticky mess he's made, cleaning me with long, greedy strokes before returning to suck again.
"You taste like heaven," he mutters hoarsely between pulls. "Sweet... warm... mine."
My head falls back. I'm trembling, my thighs shaking, my core throbbing with every rhythmic suck. He keeps alternating, his fingers pinching and rolling the neglected nipple until I'm babbling incoherently.
"Az—oh god—don't stop—please—"
He doesn't. The wave of pleasure comes crashing without warning, leaving me shaking and gasping.
Only then does he finally lift his head, his lips glistening, his eyes feral.
He kisses me deep, letting me taste vanilla on his tongue.
"Still think you're anything less than perfect, Angel?" he whispers against my mouth.
I shake my head frantically.
"Good girl," he rasps, his thumb brushing away the tears. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you tonight."