Chapter 202: Teaching a lesson [M]
Azrael’s anger was a storm brewing just beneath the surface, a roiling sea that Knox could feel in the tension of his muscles as they stepped into their apartment.
"Azrael..." Knox’s voice was asking, pleading, begging. His husband’s pheromones were no longer enough to quell his needs, burning desire, and heat.
Azrael did not answer.
The door closed with a resounding click, sealing them in the heavy silence of their shared space. Azrael’s eyes were dark, laced with fury and something deeper—something more complicated that Knox couldn’t quite read.
The tension between them was still there, a thread pulled tight, ready to snap. Knox knew he had pushed Azrael too far this time. The recklessness, the danger he had thrown himself into without thinking, it all came rushing back in a wave of guilt.
But before he could find the words to apologize, to explain himself, Azrael was already on him, diving in on his parted lips.
The kiss was hard, almost bruising as if Azrael was trying to pour all his anger and fear into it. Knox gasped against his mouth, the intensity of it making his knees weak.
Azrael’s hands gripped his shoulders, pushing him back against the wall with a force that made Knox’s breath hitch. There was nothing gentle about this, no softness, only raw emotion that neither of them could control.
Yet despite the roughness, Knox’s stomach tingled, and his soft entrance twitched as if finally readying itself to welcome its master.
"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" Azrael growled against Knox’s lips, his voice low and rough. His hands roamed Knox’s body, but the touch wasn’t gentle; it was possessive, almost punishing. He grabbed the hem of Knox’s shirt and yanked it over his head, the fabric catching momentarily before it was tossed aside.
Knox’s breath came in short, ragged bursts as Azrael’s hands returned to him, sliding down his sides, gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks.