I walk behind him, head bowed, my heart pounding so hard it aches in my chest. His strong fingers wrapped around my wrist guide me effortlessly through the dark halls of the palace. His footsteps echo on the black stone, heavy and confident, while mine barely whisper, hesitant, almost afraid.

The heat here is suffocating. The air burns my lungs with every breath, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from him. Azrael. His bronzed skin glistens under the red glow of the torches, highlighting every line of his muscles, every perfect curve of his sculpted body. His shoulders are broad, immense, his back a wall of power, and his thick, corded neck disappears beneath his black hair tied back in a low ponytail. His arms are inked with dark runes that seem to glow faintly with each beat of his heart.

I feel so small behind him.
So fragile.
So… drawn to him.

I close my eyes for a moment, ashamed of what I feel. My body betrays me. Each time I breathe in his scent, that mix of fire, spice, and raw masculine heat, my thighs clench involuntarily. I already feel my skin tingling with anticipation, a forbidden shiver running up my spine.

He stops before a massive stone door carved with gold and ancient runes. It is so tall it seems to touch the vaulted ceiling. Without a word, Azrael places his large, bronzed palm against its surface. The runes glow red before the door slowly opens with a deep rumble.

I hold my breath.

The room is enormous. Carved directly into black rock, it’s lit by braziers with blue flames, casting shifting shadows across walls engraved with ancient frescoes of demons with powerful bodies and twisted horns. At the far end, a gigantic bed dominates the center, covered in black silk sheets and dark furs, so large it could hold multiple bodies. Thick red curtains hang from the ceiling, framing the space like a sacred altar.

He pulls me gently inside and closes the door behind us. Silence falls, broken only by the crackle of flames. My heart pounds harder when I feel his hand sliding up my arm, over my shoulder, then to the back of my neck. His hot palm covers almost all of my slender nape, and I shiver under his touch, torn between fear and a burning desire that makes me dizzy.

“This is where you’ll sleep.” His deep voice resonates behind me, rich, caressing, a blend of promise and threat.
“With me.”

I stiffen. My breath catches in my throat.

“No… I… I can’t…”

His fingers tighten slightly on my neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me of his strength, his dominance. He leans in, his burning chest pressing against my back. His body is a wall of heat. His mouth comes close to my ear, and I feel his hot breath smelling of smoke and spice.

“You don’t have a choice, little angel. Here, you belong to me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, ashamed to feel my cock hardening under my white pants. I silently pray he won’t notice, but I know it’s useless. He feels everything. He sees everything. His hand leaves my neck to slide down my chest, brushing over my hardened nipples through the thin fabric. A broken, trembling moan escapes me. My skin, usually so cold, burns wherever his fingers touch.

He gently pushes me toward the bed. My legs tremble, but I walk, obedient, my heart hammering painfully. When he sits on the edge, he pulls me between his parted thighs, his hands resting on my narrow hips. He lifts his gaze to me. His red irises burn, two living embers, and his stare is so intense I look away, breathing shakily.

With a sure motion, he tips me onto the bed. My white skin contrasts violently with the black sheets, and I feel his eyes drinking in every inch of my body. He climbs in after me, lying down behind me, his bare chest pressed to my back. I feel every hard line of his abs, the heat of his powerful thighs against my frail legs, the scent of his skin filling my head like poison.

His arm slides around my waist, pulling me tighter against him until I feel his hard, thick, burning cock pressing against my ass. A muffled sob escapes me. His hand slips under my thin pants, caressing the bare skin of my stomach. He strokes me slowly, his calloused fingers drawing lazy circles around my navel, then drifting down to the edge of my white robe, never crossing it.

I tremble.
My whole body screams.
With fear. With shame. With desire.
I squeeze my eyes shut, holding back tears.

His lips press against my nape. He places a slow, burning kiss there before murmuring in a voice so deep and low I shiver to my bones:

“Sleep, little angel. Tomorrow… I’ll start showing you what true temptation is.”

I hold my breath, heart racing, my cold body pressed against his demonic heat. His caresses grow slower, gentler. His breath evens out against my skin. But me… I know I won’t sleep.

Because tonight, I share a bed with a demon.

And what terrifies me most… is that I’ve never felt such warmth. Such… life.