I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
She should damned well know better than anyone just how little he denies himself. He’s never made any false claims to sainthood, and what the fuck is modesty anyway? Clearly something he’s never had nor ever even thought about a day in his misbegotten life. Only a fool would come to him expecting him to preserve something he’s never even given a thought to, and she’s no damned fool. Hell, the only reason she would come around again so soon is because she’s been yearning to live a little dangerously.
A bark a laughter escapes his lips when she reassures him it isn’t his. Would’ve been a fuckng miracle if it had been, considering just how disappointingly chaste their last encounter had been. His skin shivers involuntarily beneath the scrape of her teeth on his neck, sending a lick of heat curling across his flesh. His eyes darken almost imperceptibly as he drops his gaze to consider her delicate features with open intent.
His lips quirk into a faint smirk as he presses closer, his wing tightening around her. “Well shit,” he drawls lazily, a faint tinge of humor touching his low tone. “Was that her name?”
Father of the fucking year.
Of course, given her current state, he certainly couldn’t add to the physical manifestations of his sins. And ain’t that just fucking perfect? That smirk turning faintly wicked, he tilts his head slightly, until his lips meet the delicate bridge of her nose before tracing slowly upwards until they become lost in the tangle of her forelock.
“Y’know,” he continues softly, his voice a low rumble, “I don’t think we’ve ever been safer.” The words are filled with a dark humor as he toys idly with the silken strands of her pale tresses. “If you wanted to give something new a try.”
