Angel Kin (3 page)

“I miss Yuri,” Madigan managed to say as he ground his hard dick  against Dex’s leg. “It feels emptier without him.”

Dex reached down and stroked the top of his head. “I understand  what you mean, baby. I feel the same way. But don’t worry. He’ll  heal soon, and then we can all take turns ravishing him.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“What promises are we making?” Bren’s snarky voice cut into  their conversation. Madigan grinned and turned his head, wiggling his  ass as their smell filtered through the room.

“Hmmm…promise to fuck me good, Bren?” Madigan asked with  a saucy grin. He took in Bren’s kiss-swollen lips and Michel’s dazed  expression and tsked. “Starting without me?”

“You started without us, cutey,” Michel reminded, giving  Madigan a hungry look. Cross reached out and palmed Bren’s  backside, his shirt already off. The action triggered the memory of a  picture he’d seen in Levi’s book, the one which had started his hunger  to begin with. He started panting at the thought. “I have an idea.” He  looked at all of them. “Strip, please.”

His men must’ve seen the serious need in him because they started  obeying him without another word. He looked at each of his lovers in  turn. They were so damn beautiful. His eyes lit on Cross and stuck on  the torn flesh on his pectoral muscle. The angry red tissue and scab  were still indented where the spear had penetrated his chest cavity.  The place on his neck was healed for the most part, only a thin, white  scar remained, but he had been so damn hurt in the beginning. Their  lovemaking had been tempered by injuries and fear between them.  But Madigan was determined to not let that happen this time. Through  his haze of desire, he knew what he wanted and knew how to get his  men into a froth of need as potent and deep as his.

“This is going to be so fucking good,” Madigan said aloud as they  climbed into bed beside him and Dex. He motioned for Cross to lie

against the pillows by the headboard. He climbed on top, straddling  Cross’s hips. He looked down. Nope, they were too far up. “Scoot  down another foot or so, Cross.” Raphael’s angel gave him a strange  look but obeyed
. Hmmm, he’s so fucking sexy. I’m fixing to blow your  mind, angel mine
.

Madigan turned his head and looked over his shoulder. “Bren, will you lube up Cross and get me ready?” he asked with a shudder of anticipation.

“Sure thing, bright eyes.” Bren’s voice was that sexy growl it usually was when he was really turned on by something. Cross and  Madigan made a striking pair, and Madigan knew it. Bren had a thing for redheads, it seemed.

“Dex, lube our Michel up, please.”

Michel groaned as he was flipped around and pushed to his chest,  ass up in the air for Dex’s perusal. The visual had Madigan echoing  the sentiment of pleasure with a sound of his own. Beneath him,  Cross hissed as Bren’s warm hands rubbed cold lubrication onto the

hard flesh of his cock. As Bren’s hand stroked Cross, his other hand

came up to traced the crease of Madigan’s ass before long, elegant  fingers pushed between them and circled the tight rosette they found  there. Madigan shuddered harder as a finger speared him.
 
Yes! Just  what I need.
 
And just what he wanted.

“I love you. I love you all so fucking much.” Madigan gasped the  words as another finger was added to the first. They pumped in and  out of him, stimulating the nerves of his hole as they stretched him for  greater purposes. Another finger was added, then another. Madigan  was ready.

Bren must’ve sensed it because he almost immediately backed off.  Madigan paused over Cross’s hard cock, and Bren lent a hand by  keeping it steady as Madigan sank onto Cross’s hot rod. He gave a  sigh of contentment at being filled, but it still wouldn’t be enough.  Cross shifted beneath them restlessly. Madigan knew he wanted to  fuck, could see it in the straining muscles in his neck and shoulders,  but Cross waited for Madigan to take the lead he’d been given by his  men’s deferral to him. It was a heady power. He turned his head.

“Bren, I want you inside me, too.” Everyone froze for a moment  and stared. A low blush rose on Madigan’s cheeks that he felt with a  rush of heat. He licked his lips. “Please?” He jumped as Bren snarled

something that sounded like “sexy imp” and gave his hands a  generous dollop of lubrication before coating the entire length. Cross  groaned, and his hips started moving almost of their own accord as  the instinctual need to move, to fuck, overcame the civilized parts of  his brain.

He stilled only when Bren’s cock slipped in beside his own.  Madigan let his breath out in a hiss as two cocks worked their way into his tight channel.
 
God it feels so good!
 
The sensation of being stuffed to the point where pleasure met pain and “good” and “too much” were right beside one another was one that made his head swim. It took everything in his power not to lose it and give in to the beast of lust that demanded he sate himself immediately. It would take two strokes to his oversensitized prick at this point to get off.

“Ready for us to move?” Cross’s strangled voice still tried to sound civil but just came out as sounding like a man desperately approaching the edge of the abyss.

Madigan gritted his teeth to keep from giving the affirmative.  “Not quite.” He tried not to sound as breathless and worked up as he felt when he called out, “Michel, get over here.” He could’ve asked nicer, but he was beyond the point of caring about how something sounded. He wanted, and his nephilim side was singing its triumph like hallelujah bells at church.

Michel climbed over to Madigan’s side and pulled Madigan into a kiss. Madigan gasped as both of the angels inside him couldn’t seem to resist fucking forward a few times at the visual. Madigan was all but writhing as he whimpered into Michel’s mouth. He pulled back by sheer force of will. He wanted his fantasy, and they were going to give it to him.

“I want to fuck you, Michel. You mind?”

At the words, Michel scrambled to straddle Cross’s lower chest.

He used the headboard to balance as Madigan brought Michel’s hips back so that he could sink down onto Madigan’s steadily leaking prick.

“Use his mouth, Dex.” The strangled phrase was all he could  manage before he couldn’t take the pressure anymore. He slammed  his hips back on the two pricks inside him, groaning as they both  started fucking him with enthusiasm. Distantly, he was aware of Dex  doing as he asked and fisting his hand in Michel’s blond mop before  stuffing his monstrous cock between Michel’s plush lips. Madigan’s  cock was treated with the sensation of a tightly clenching ass as it  worked up and down his length in the same desperate lunges that  were taking his ass.

“God, yes! Sweet Lord, right there.
 
Fuck
!” He didn’t know which  way to turn. His entire being seemed to be a bundle of nerves, and the  three-hundred-and-sixty-degree sensation made Madigan sure his  head was going to explode at any moment. Oh yes, they would  definitely be doing this again. His body was quickly spiraling out of  control. As good as all this felt, it was impossible to maintain for any  length of time.

“I’m close,” Bren panted, his hips working harder, his rhythm  floundering in the face of so much pleasure so soon. Cross gave a  strangled moan as he jackknifed beneath him, crying out as he lost his  battle to stave off the pleasure as he jetted inside Madigan’s body.

Bren followed close on his heels, giving a guttural cry of  completion as he, too, came. Madigan reached down and worked  Michel’s hard dick as it curved up toward his belly button and fucked  him with all the force he could muster. Within seconds, Michel’s hard

length jerked in Madigan’s hands, his liquid pleasure boiling over his  fist as Madigan jerked him in time with his thrusts.

The clenching muscle around Madigan’s arousal was too much.  He met Dex’s eyes and held them as they both fell off the precipice of  pleasure together into the void of orgasm. Madigan screamed, jerking  like he was having an epileptic seizure as he came in endless streams  inside Michel’s tight body. He tried to relearn how to breathe as  everything seized up and shook him to the foundations of what he  knew to be pleasure.

Finally, he collapsed back against them, relying on the others to keep him upright as his mind short-circuited and floated out to sea.  The others pulled from him, laying him down on a dry section of sheet as they circled around him on shaking legs, trying to tend to him. Dex asked him a question, but Madigan wasn’t sure he remembered how to speak English. So he just grinned drunkenly. He was a gelatinous mound of pleasure. Several times he attempted to open his mouth and tell them that he needed a nap now, but he never quite managed it. He fought it for a total of thirty-five seconds before giving up the fight and slipping into a black, peaceful sleep.

* * * *

Dex chuckled as their lover closed his eyes and almost immediately started snoring lightly. He was so damn cute. He gave a boneless Michel a kiss of gratitude. Dex really hadn’t meant to use his mouth quite that hard when he’d started. The visual of his lovers all entwined, moving as one machine of pleasure had undone his control faster than a fifth of whiskey and a hard night.

Cross seemed content to just lie on Madigan’s other side with his hands behind his head in a classic “I’m the man” posture that nearly had Dex rolling in the floor. It was the position coupled with the smug grin that was so damn hilarious. Bren stretched out his legs, scooting off the bed and heading to the adjacent bathroom to bring back towels and fresh sheets for them. Usually, Michel was the one who did that, but Michel looked like he was in nephilim heaven and never wanted to leave. He was curled against Madigan’s side with his eyes shut, breathing too shallowly to be asleep, but it would be a long minute before any of them felt like moving.

Bren returned with the washcloths in hand and a soft look of

contentment on his face. He handed one to Dex, who took it

gratefully.

“Thanks,” he said. Bren distributed another cloth to Cross, who

took it, and he used another to wipe himself clean. They glanced at  their other two lovers. “I don’t see them wanting that in the near  future.”

“If Madigan wakes up sticky, he’s going to be annoyed,” Bren  said. He didn’t sound too worried about it, though, more amused than  anything.

Dex smiled as he gazed down at his lovers. “He was the one who  insisted on sensory overload. He’ll just have to deal with the sticky.”  He turned his head so that he could lay a kiss on Bren’s lush mouth.  All of his men were made for kissing, but Michel and Bren had  mouths to die for. There was something about each of them that he  found too damn sexy to resist. He loved them all so much it hurt to  think of even a single moment when they wouldn’t be in his life. He  refused to even think of the car wreck that had nearly destroyed their  budding happiness. Dex vowed in that moment to never let his lovers  be that close to the end ever again. He planned on keeping his word.

“We could clean him up and change the sheets,” Bren continued,  his voice a whisper as Michel’s breathing evened out in the telltale  sign of sleep.

Dex chuckled. “You could probably do that and change the sheets  around them and they wouldn’t wake up.” He looked over at Cross.  “You okay, Cross?”

“Uh-huh,” Cross said.

“Can you think yet?” Bren asked.

“Nope,” Cross said, cheerfully.

“Do you want to?” Dex asked, smothering a laugh with his hand.  Cross’s reaction was by far the most unexpected. Their commander  was usually so stoic and serious that for him to react at all to  lovemaking other than to give cleaning orders or cuddle was a foreign  concept. This was a different side of him that Dex was thoroughly  enjoying.

“Absolutely not. I’m going to float for another hour or so right  where I’m at. Fuck the wet spot. I don’t care.”

Bren barked out a laugh at his words and climbed over Madigan  and Michel so that he could be between Madigan and Cross. “You’re  a piece of work, Red.”

“Bite me.”

“Yum.”

Dex climbed off the bed and nearly stumbled as his legs became  Jell-O. With a few false and stumbling steps, he went to the bags of clothes beside the dresser and got out a pair of boxers before pulling them up his hips.

“Where you going?” Bren asked as Dex walked purposefully toward the door.

“If we’re napping, I’m going to go sleep with Yuri. He needs us,”  Dex explained. And he did. Yuri, more than any of the guardians, was  suffering the effects of their near miss. His healing or lack thereof was  a point of frustration and confusion that only made Yuri’s insecurities