Chapter 158 My Angel | 051
NOELLE
I spin around so fast the towel almost comes loose. Azren is leaning heavily against the hallway wall, barefoot and shirtless. His hair is a mess, dipping over his forehead, and his eyes are still heavy with exhaustion. One hand braces against the wall like it's the only thing holding him upright.
But he's awake. And he's... staring at me. Then his gaze slowly drifts downward. To the washing machine.
Azren blinks slowly.
"...Why," he rasps hoarsely, "are you doing laundry in the middle of the night... wearing nothing but a towel?"
My brain completely shuts down.
"I—"
Excellent start.
"I was—"
Fantastic.
"I mean—"
Perfect.
Azren squints slightly. Then he furrows his brow.
His nostrils flare faintly. And I realize with absolute horror that he's scenting the air. Eventually, his eyes snap back to me.
"...Noelle."
Uh oh. That tone. That very dangerous tone.
My heart begins to pound again.
"I—" I clear my throat quickly. "You should go lie down. You need rest. I've got everything handled."
He doesn't move. Instead, his eyes linger on the damn washing machine.
"You're doing laundry?" He repeats. It's enough to throw me into extra panic. Does he know something or not?! My anxiety is killing me.
"Yes."
"With the enthusiasm of someone diffusing a bomb."
I try to laugh. Unfortunately, it comes out strangled.
"I just—I thought I'd help."
My husband tilts his head, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling. My throat goes dry.
"You're shaking."
Damn it.
"I'm not—"
"You are."
His voice softens slightly, but his eyes stay locked on me. I turn away like the coward I am. I'm so screwed. There's nothing clearer than that.
"You also look confused."
I grip the edge of the washer.
"I'm not confused."
I fumble for the damn buttons, my hands shaking.
"Did you forget how to use the washing machine already?"
Shit.
I have successfully used it before. Multiple times.
The realization makes my stomach drop. I guess the whole incident from earlier fried my brain cells. That's the only logical reason.
I glance at Azren through the corner of my eyes. Slowly, he pushes himself off the wall.
"Angel," he says and my pulse jumps.
"Turn around."
The words are calm. But the tone sends cold shivers sliding down my spine. So, I hesitate. My fingers tighten on the edge of the washer.
"Az—"
"Noelle."
My name comes out lower this time, like the rumble of thunder. Very slowly, I turn around. His gaze drops right away. To my hands. The cloth I used earlier is gone, but the cut is still there.
Azren goes very still. Then he exhales slowly through his nose.
"Come here."
My stomach riots in that moment. Even so, I take one step towards him. Then another. He turns and starts walking down the hallway without waiting to see if I follow.
His stride is longer than mine. I have to hurry to keep up. My heart is pounding harder with every step. He pushes open the bedroom door, and I step inside.
The moment I do, he closes it behind us. I turn just in time to see him moving. One second he's near the door, the next, I'm pressed against it.
His hand comes up beside my head, bracing against the wood. The other catches my wrist.
My arms are forced upward and my breath leaves me in a soft gasp. His eyes drop immediately to my palm.
He says nothing. But the air in the room vanishes.
And then, because the moon goddess clearly hates me, my towel decides that this is the perfect moment to betray me. The knot loosens, and the fabric drops to the floor.
I freeze, goosebumps creeping over my skin.
Azren's gaze dips unhurriedly before travelling back up to settle on my face. Then his jaw tightens. And judging by the look on his face, I am in a lot of trouble.
"Your blood," he utters in the coldest voice ever. "I can taste it."
That's it. I'm dead. GONE. Buried.
"I'm sorry," I blurt. The words spill out so fast they tangle. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—I didn't mean for it to go that far, I swear. I just—I couldn't watch you suffer, Azren. I couldn't—I panicked. I didn't think. I just—"
Tears sting my eyes. I try to swallow them. They fall anyway. Because I'm terrified he's going to hate me for the rest of our lives.
"I know you're going to hate me," I choke out. "I know you told me never, I know it's forbidden, and I know what it does to you and what it costs, but I—I couldn't do nothing. I couldn't just sit there. I couldn't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'd do it again. I'd do it a thousand times. I'd cut every vein in my body if it meant you opened your eyes. I don't care what it makes me. I don't care if you never look at me the same. I just—I needed you to breathe."
I'm shaking so hard, sobbing like I'm on gunpoint.
I'm disgusting.
I'm pathetic.
And I can't stop.
"I know you're furious," I choke. "I know I crossed every line. I know I probably just made everything worse. I know—"
He lifts one hand from the door, so gently it actually startles me. His thumb brushes the wetness on my cheek. Then the other. He wipes my tears like they hurt him.
His expression is ruined. His jaw is clenched, his brows drawn tight, his eyes glassy with something that looks a lot like pain.
"What do I do with you?" he mutters, his voice cracking. "What the hell do I do with you, Noelle?"
I open my mouth to ramble again. But then, without warning, he kisses me hard. I melt instantly.
My hands fly to his shoulders, my nails digging in, trying to hold on. My knees are noodles at this point.
He groans into my mouth, and suddenly both hands are under my thighs, lifting me. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct.
He carries me backwards, never breaking the kiss. We hit the edge of the bed, and he gently lowers me onto the mattress.
He follows, caging me with his body, his mouth never leaving mine.
I arch up, my hands tracing his sculpted chest and abs.
His mouth moves to my throat, biting, sucking, and marking. I'm sobbing again, but for a completely different reason. It's overwhelming. So good it feels like my chest is cracking into pieces.
"Az—" I moan.
"You drive me insane, pretty Noelle. You test me. You ruin me. Fuck, how do you have so much power over me?"
He speaks like he aches, his voice quivering with fire and need.
I yank his head back up and kiss him like I'm starving.
"I deserve to be punished, don't I, baby? Then punish me," I whisper against his lips.
His eyes darken so fast it's almost alarming.
"You've been egging me on, you little brat. I heard you, Noelle. Now, I'm going to dump my religion and worship you only. I'll take whatever I want. And you'll give it to me whenever and wherever," he all but growls.
My toes curl at those words, my core growing wet.
"Then wreck me, Daddy," I rasp, breathless.
His mouth crashes into mine again, but this time there's nothing left of the careful man who wiped my tears.
This is Azren unleashed. The kiss burns with a hunger so raw, it steals my breath away. He bites my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, then he licks it away, moaning like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.
I moan into his mouth, my hands clawing at his shoulders.
"Mine," he snarls against my throat. "Every fucking inch."
He doesn't ask. He takes.
Big hands grab my thighs, yanking them apart so wide my hips ache. Then he's on me, his mouth devouring my breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth so hard I arch off the bed with a cry.
His teeth scrape, bite, and tug until the sting bleeds into blinding pleasure.
The other breast gets the same treatment while his fingers assault my clit until I'm dripping. He fucks me with his fingers, stretching me open with wet, filthy sounds that fill the room.
I feel drunk. Drunk on his touch and taste.
"Azren—fuck—"
He curls those fingers and strokes that spot inside me that has me screaming bloody murder. I'm yelling profanities, swept up by a pleasure so intoxicating, I feel it down to my bones.
My hips buck wildly. He pins them down with his forearm, forcing me to take his attention on my wet cunt. The orgasm blasts through me without mercy, my walls clamping down on his fingers.
He doesn't pull out. He keeps fucking me with them through the aftershocks, his thumb grinding my clit in tight, mean circles until I'm sobbing, thrashing, and coming a second time before the first even fades.
Only then does he rip his hand away.
I whine at the loss, but he's already shoving my legs wider, folding me in half like I'm a toy. The blunt, thick head of his pierced cock nudges my entrance, glistening with precum.
I'd been so wrapped up in ecstasy that I hadn't noticed him stripping fully.
"Look at me," he orders, his voice thick with lust.
I force my drooping eyes open wider. His pupils are dilated with want.
He slams in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
I scream, my body swallowing every thick inch of him, knowing that this is only the beginning.