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Touched By Sin: Chapter 27


I sit in my father’s office with my ankle crossed over my knee, watching him stare at the moon through the tall window. Its silvery glow floods the room and travels across the stone floor. His face is in shadow when he slowly turns, his dark eyes burning into me as he nears. With his hands clasped behind his back, he takes measured steps. “I understand you’re fond of the girl?”

I stay quiet, my jaw clenched. He called me in here for a meeting. Whatever he has to say, I won’t like it.

“You know the deal, son—”

“I haven’t forgotten!”

He regards me as he lowers himself down onto the edge of the desk. “Good. She’s a pretty girl, but there’s a bigger picture. We can’t afford to get sidetracked.”

“I won’t get sidetracked.”

Flashing his perfectly straight teeth, he smashes his hands together. “That’s the right attitude. I’ve spoken to your uncle, and the deal will go ahead as planned. They’ll collect her this coming weeke—”

I shoot up so fast, the chair falls over, crashing loudly on the stone floor. “Over my dead fucking body! He’s not having her.”

My father narrows his eyes at me but keeps calm. Unlike me, he’s not as quick to anger. “She’s not for you.”

I snort. “She sure as fuck is not for Dmitriy!” The thought of him touching her again makes me want to destroy something. Preferably my cousin and his smug smile. I feel sick thinking about him parading her down the hallway like a prize, because that’s exactly what he’ll do.

My father waits for me to finish raging before folding his arms over his chest and spreading his legs. “You knew from the beginning that you wouldn’t be able to keep her.”

I’m pacing again. Okay, sure, I stole her for a bit of fun. She was a novelty. But it’s not fucking fun anymore. She has burrowed her way under my skin, unlike any other girl. I’m not giving that up. I’m not giving her up. I don’t care what it takes.

My father, perceptive as always, rises to his feet and kills the distance between us. We’re matched in height. There used to be a time when I was shorter, and he would use it against me, but those days are over. I’m in my prime, and he’s not.

“She’s become your weakness, son, and we can’t afford weaknesses. Enemies will take notice, and they will use her against you. Besides, she’s an angel. It won’t be long before word spreads about what we’re keeping hidden here at the academy.”

I hate that he’s right. I would kill for her. Fuck, I have killed for her. At this rate, I would probably be killed for her, too. She’ll get me into a shitload of trouble, if nothing else.

“Dmitriy can’t have her,” I repeat.

The thought makes me fucking nauseous. How can I watch him parade her at school, knowing he slides between her thighs at night? I shake my head to clear it of those sickening thoughts. If I’m not careful, I’ll go after him. That can’t happen. Angel is right—I’m playing into my uncle’s hands. They’re doing this to provoke me, and I’m letting it happen. My father knows it too, but he’s too razor-focused on convincing my uncle to relinquish his title. Meanwhile, my uncle is poking me with a stick time and time again, just waiting for me to snap and do something stupid. Which I will.

“Unfortunately,” my father says, placing his hand on my shoulder, his grip tight, “you have no choice. He’s collecting her on Saturday, so make sure her bags are packed and she’s ready to leave by seven p.m sharp.”

“And if I refuse?” My voice is a low growl.

My father flashes an easy smile, but it has an edge. Darkness which birthed Hell. “We wouldn’t want to see anything happen to Angel, would we? She’s a smart girl who could have a bright future here at the academy.” He lowers his hand, takes a cigar out of his breast pocket, and puts it between his lips. After lighting it up, he puffs on it, squinting at me through the smoke. “I will not allow for weaknesses, son. Not now that we’re so close to our goal. I understand it’s easy to be blinded by pussy, especially someone as fine and rare as her, but don’t lose sight of what’s important.”

Clapping me on the shoulder, he walks to the door, but before he can leave, I blurt, “Do you really think it’s wise to give up the only pure angel in the land? There’s no one else like her.”

My father’s gaze meets mine over his shoulder as he half turns. “You forget one thing. I used to be just like her. She’s nothing special.” He walks out, leaving me to brood alone in his dark office.

I’ve never before felt like my hands were tied. I fucking hate it. I’m going after my uncle, but how? If I step out of line, my father will lose the throne. But I need to do something. I can’t just sit back and let them take Angel. Why do I even care so much? When did I let her get under my skin?

As I walk through the front door, I hear them in the living room. Angel is laughing, and the light, airy sound travels through the walls, chasing away the shadows. Sprawled on the couches in the living room, their heads turn in my direction when I enter.

My eyes seek out Angel like a moth to a flame. She’s breathtaking with her blonde hair, big blue eyes, and that glow she has about her. It strikes me like an arrow to the chest every time, but behind the beauty lies fire and attitude. It’s what I love the most. She doesn’t take my shit. Before she came here, I pictured true angels as meek. Boy, was I wrong.

“Daddy looks grumpy,” she teases, lighting a match to my fire. Just like that, I’m hard and ready to choke the attitude out of her. I flop down onto the armchair beside the fire and pat my lap.

Shifting from her spot between Alaric and Ronan, she slides down onto the floor and crawls toward me while I crack my neck and adjust my aching dick inside my jeans. Fuck, the sight of her on all fours with her ass in the air and her eyes on me—how can I not want to kill for her?

When she nears, I keep quiet, curious to see what she’ll do. Her blonde hair is a mass of wavy strands, thanks to the rain outside. Thank fuck for Mother Nature. I’m dying to pull on it until her eyes tear up.

“You look like you’ve had a bad day,” she says with a smirk as she kneels between my legs and runs her hands up my thighs. Fingernails with black, chipped nail polish—courtesy to Dariana—inch closer to my crotch. Just as she’s about to hit holy ground, she stops, peering up at me through long, dark lashes. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

My throat goes dry when she walks her fingers over the hard bulge inside my jeans. What a fucking tease. I snatch up her wrist, gripping her tight enough to make her lips part. “You can bat your pretty lashes all you want. It won’t get you what you want. Not with me. Now, by all means, go ahead and convince me with your mouth why I shouldn’t do something stupid.”

A feminine voice from the doorway breaks our stare off. “I’m just in time for the party, I see.”

Dariana’s thick and shiny hair is down, and her little black dress has a slit up the thigh that goes all the way to her hip. Her perfect tits almost spill over the low neckline, but none of her physical beauty compares to the girl between my legs. Angel’s creamy skin makes my palm itch with the urge to mark it. The flames in her eyes burn brighter when I try to assert myself over her, which makes me want to do it more. I want to corrupt her. Own every part of her. I don’t know if it’s because she’s from Heaven and I’m from Hell. But it’s such a fucking turn-on to see her beautiful lips wrap around my cock.

Angel tries to wrench her hand free, but I pull her in closer, fisting her hair with my other hand and forcing her eyes on me. To Dari, I confirm, “You’re just in time for the party. Let’s play with our toy.”

My little angel has expressive eyes that speak a thousand words while her mouth remains shut. Right now, she hates me a little bit.

“Flare your wings,” I order, because I want to see them spread out in all their fucking glory while she chokes on my dick.

Dari ignores me, walking deeper into the room. “What did your father say?”

My grip on Angel’s hair tightens until she slowly unfolds her wings. That’s my good girl. “I don’t want to talk about my father. I want my fucking dick sucked.”

Used to my shitty attitude, Dari rolls her eyes as she takes a seat on the coffee table.

“Unbuckle my belt.”

Of course Angel doesn’t listen, and I love her a little more for it. It makes me fucking ache with desire when she fights back.

I groan, letting my head fall back against the couch. The chandelier overhead has enough spider webs to make my house look like Dracula’s abode.

“Amenadiel turned up at the school today,” Dari says, causing my head to snap up.

Angel sets to work on my belt, no doubt trying to distract me. I shove her off, ignoring her protests when she falls to the floor. “You saw him?”

Dari smirks. “And heard him.”

Jumping up to her feet, Angel steals my attention for a brief few seconds when she begins swaying her hips in front of me, dancing to an imaginary tune my dick sure can hear. Her slender fingers slowly inch her skirt up her thighs until I catch a glimpse of her silk panties.

Dari clicks her fingers, stealing my attention. It’s difficult to drag my gaze away from Angel’s smooth skin and that tiny triangle of fabric that hides Nirvana. “What did he say?”

“Why don’t you ask the seductress over there.”

Angel glares at Dari. “I’m trying to prevent a war here. You’re not helping.”

“I never thought I’d witness the day an angel from Heaven would use sex to stop a war.”

Alaric and Ronan chuckle. I join in as Angel’s cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Go on, tell them, baby,” Dari urges, looking amused while our little angel fidgets. When she doesn’t reply, Dari says, “Fine, I’ll tell them. Amenadiel attacked her in her dreams. He even admitted it.”

Waving a hand dismissively, I grab Angel by the hip, then pull her into me and flip her skirt up. “That’s not news.”

Dariana falls silent. She expected me to rage and fly out of my chair, but I’m too distracted by these damp silk panties to point out that we got Angel to admit the truth—well, sort of.

I hook a finger in the fabric, sliding them aside and baring her soft little pussy. Angel looks down at me with her big doe eyes, and I’m struck with the urge to nail Dmitriy to a fucking cross and leave him to die while I show him exactly all the things I want to do to my angel. I’ll gladly come out to play if he wishes to raise the fucking Devil from the flames.

“Daemon, fuck! Can you focus for one second?”

“I’m good at multitasking,” I tell her, teasing Angel’s slit with my finger.

“The fuck you are,” Dariana growls, moving Angel out of the way. Her skirt falls back down—a tragedy of epic proportions.

Bringing my finger to my nose, I breathe in her heavenly scent while keeping my eyes locked on hers. This is what you do to me, Angel. The power you hold.

Smoke fills the air, and Ronan tosses me the cigarette packet across the room. I catch it effortlessly. Let’s face it. If I were human, I would be the best star receiver their world has ever seen. Banging it on my palm, I bite one out and light it up before shaking my palm to extinguish the flame. Jealously swirls in the depths of Angel’s blue eyes. She wishes she knew what her own powers are. I would lie if I said I wasn’t curious, too.

“So, what’s the plan?” Dariana asks while I sweep my gaze down Angel’s long, smooth legs. Her toenails are painted black too, and there’s something so inherently rebellious about it that I want to spank her ass for thinking she’ll ever fit into our world. “We kill him.”

“Just like that?” Dariana sounds incredulous.

I admit that my plan isn’t very well thought out, but we can get to the ins and outs of tearing his head from his body after I make Angel scream my name.

“This is exactly why I was trying to distract him,” Angel argues, waving her hands, “but you had to remind him again of his revenge plans.”

Ignoring her little temper tantrum, Dariana walks up to me and steals the cigarette from my lips with a wink. She takes a drag, squinting at me while holding the smoke in her lungs before blowing it back out. “Your lack of a plan is ridiculous. You can’t just kill a centuries-old Fallen Angel. Besides, do I have to remind you of what’s at stake here? Your father has ruled Hell since the fall.”

Shrugging, I lean back in my seat, picking imaginary lint from my jeans. “Amenadiel isn’t immortal. He can die, and he will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Ronan speaks up, “Until he’s dead, how do we protect our angel in her dreams?”

“We need to enter her dreams, somehow.”

Alaric laughs. “Are you serious right now? We’re not powerful enough to enter someone’s mind.”

“Well, what else do you have in mind?” I counter, annoyed. I fucking hate common sense sometimes, and my friends have a lot of it.

Leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, Ronan says, “We need to find her a way out of the dream. A way for her to wake up.”

Exhausted, I scrub my palm over my face. Why can’t it just be fucking straightforward? Kill the guy and have it over and done with. Why the stupid treaty? “How do we do that? She needs to realize she’s in a dream first.”

A thick and heavy silence falls on the room. The truth is, we don’t know the answers. We’re backed into a corner. Amenadiel plays dirty by attacking from the shadows, and my father is too blinded by the promise of ultimate power to care about anything else. We’re running out of time.


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