“When did you stop hating me?” Cross repeated, blowing gently on the wet spot he’d made. Bren’s cock jumped, smacking Cross in the face. They shared a laugh at that.

  “Sorry,” Bren said. Cross continued to knead him, but he wasn’t going to let up until Bren answered him. “Ugh, fine. The first night we were all together. When Michel sucked you off while we all masturbated for Madigan. It was the way you talked to me. Made me so hot.”

  Cross rewarded him for the admission by sucking the entire length of Bren’s dick into his mouth. He worked his throat muscles to clench over the mushroomed head. He suckled hard, getting a suction going that put a Hoover to shame. Bren’s hands immediately wound themselves into his hair.

  “Oh! Christ! Cross!” the other angel cried out. He humped Cross’s face helplessly as Cross worked him with his mouth. Vaguely, Cross was aware of the shower turning off. Michel was in for a hell of a sight when he stepped out of the bathroom. Bren moaned, and the sound was echoed by Michel over Cross’s right shoulder.

  “God in Heaven, that is hot,” Michel breathed. Cross pulled off Bren’s prick with a soft pop.

  “You have something to say to Michel for being an ass earlier?”

  Cross asked as Bren made a sound of protest at the loss of sensation.

  His body leaked pre-cum in a steady stream that ran down the length of his arousal. Cross kissed Bren’s head but otherwise gave no stimulation. Bren made a strangled noise, and his eyes turned to Michel.

  “I’m sorry, Michel.” He gasped as his shaft was again engulfed in Cross’s mouth. The reward system seemed to work really well for him. Cross knew that Bren would have a fit if he ever heard Cross’s thought aloud, but it was a funny one to think about. Then Bren went further than Cross had expected him to. “Let me suck you, baby. Let 26

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  me show you I’m sorry.” Cross heard rather than saw Michel’s hesitation.

  “Is that what you want?” Michel asked finally. Cross understood his reluctance. He was also afraid that Bren would freak if he were made to submit even a little control to someone else. The progress he’d made was good, but he was still seemingly in control of the situation. Cross hadn’t yet taken him to the next level.

  “I’m not glass, you two,” Bren grumbled in frustration. “I want to suck you, Michel. Let me.”

  Cross caught the image of Michel walking toward them out of the corner of his eye. The male just had a pink towel on that covered less than it showed. He dropped it on the floor beside them and knelt down on the hardwood.

  “How do you want to do this?” Michel asked as he surveyed the two of them. Cross knew it probably looked deliciously wicked, him on his elbows deep throating Bren while the dark-haired angel asked for Michel’s cock.

  “F–Fuck my mouth,” Bren stammered. Cross wasn’t sure if he was nervous or if the fact that he’d chosen that moment to lave the underside of Bren’s dick with his tongue had anything to do with it.

  Probably a combination of both. Michel gave a growl of approval over Bren’s words and immediately straddled Bren’s head.

  “Just let me know if anything gets uncomfortable, love,” Michel murmured, cupping his lover’s cheek gently. “Just tap my hip or something.” Bren nodded and opened his mouth.

  Then Cross couldn’t see anything but Michel’s tanned ass as it fucked into Bren’s mouth. It was a beautiful sight. Cross just wanted to sink his teeth into Michel’s flexing buttock as it propelled his cock forward into Bren’s hot cavern.

  Within minutes, Bren was crying out around the thick length in his mouth and jetting his sticky pleasure into Cross’s mouth. Cross sucked dutifully, not spilling a drop of semen as it gathered in his mouth and threatened to seep out of the corners of his lips as Bren’s Angelic Ties

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  hips jerked, wringing the last bit of pleasurable sensation from the organ. Cross reveled in the taste of Bren, a taste he’d never been granted before. He wasn’t as sweet as Madigan, and he wasn’t quite as musky as Dex. Bren had a completely unique flavor that had a pleasant tang to it. Cross licked his lips, looking for errant drops of cum. He would definitely be doing this again.

  “Ah, sweet. Hmmm, you’ve got a nice mouth, Bren,” Michel moaned, his hips working a little most desperately against Bren’s mouth. Cross growled at the scene. Without thinking, he leaned up, parted Michel’s cheeks, and plunged his tongue against the flexing entrance to Michel’s body. Michael’s angel cried out, his body shaking at the two stimuli. Cross lifted his head.

  “Switch positions. I want in you.” His voice was a little hoarse.

  The fucking he’d endured by Bren’s cock had been a lot more frenzied than he’d thought. Michel whimpered but did as he was bid, rolling off Bren’s face. The dark-haired angel blinked in surprise, his pupils dilated in pleasure.

  “You’re not going to…” Bren began.

  “Not yet,” Cross said. “Not here. I want to give you time to think about it first.”

  Bren smiled dazedly. “You’re too nice, Cross. I would’ve had your ass by now.” He still might, Cross thought. He didn’t typically bottom, ever. But if that’s what it took to get Bren happy…

  Cross gave Bren a wicked smile. “You just sit back and bask in the afterglow, Bren. I’ll give you a show to let you see what you’re missing.” Michel took that as his cue and rolled to his back with his legs spread beside Bren. He laced their hands, and Michel kissed Bren’s knuckles.

  “Tell me how it is,” Bren demanded, heat beginning to seep back into his eyes. Michel nodded.

  Cross positioned himself in between Michel’s spread thighs, hoisting his legs on his shoulders so that he could achieve a deeper penetration. His cock was dripping, thoroughly aroused by the oral 28

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  performance he’d given Bren. Michel’s breath hitched as Cross pressed the head of his cock against his perineum.

  “Oh Christ!” Michel yelped as Cross’s hips jerked and pushed his cock deeper into his tight channel. He hadn’t had much preparation, and Cross knew he wasn’t small. He really needed to be more careful.

  He gritted his teeth and resolved to do just that. Michel’s face turned toward Bren, and the other angel started kissing him. It was Cross’s turn to moan. It always ratcheted up the intensity for him to watch his lover, whichever one he happened to be with at the time, being touched by someone else. Bren’s hand managed to snake between them and pump Michel’s engorged length in time with Cross’s thrusts. The action drove Cross nuts.

  He lost all sense of “right” and “proper” and “civilized” and turned into a rutting animal that was only concerned with its own release. Michel’s cries of pleasure echoed in his ears, driving him on.

  He knew he was close now, close enough to come at the slightest provocation.

  “How is it, Michel?” Bren asked, deliberately separating their mouths to whisper it huskily into Michel’s ear. That boy was the devil sometimes. “How does that thick cock feel in your tight ass?”

  “Feels. Real. Good! Ah! Cross!” Michel grunted out the words as he was pounded over and over again. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his cock spat his spunk all over his own chest and Bren’s clutching palm. The sensation of Michel’s butt rhythmically clenching and unclenching around his shaft was too much. Cross pulsed twice inside his lover before shouting his release as he came deep into the willing depths.

  After a moment of suspended animation, he collapsed against Michel, letting both of the other angel’s legs fall to the floor on their respective sides. Cross panted, paralyzed and numb from the intensity of his orgasm. A hand smoothed down his sweaty back.

  “You’re beautiful when you come apart,” Bren murmured. He was the first one on his feet. He padded to the bathroom and got a Angelic Ties

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  washcloth for the two of them. In a house with this many men, they were well stocked in washcloths for just such occasions.

  Michel started laughing. “Well, I just wasted a perfectly good shower,” he joked as Bren administered to the two of them with damp wipes of the cloth. Cross grunted, still unable to articulate a sentence quite yet.

  “I think it was worth it,” Bren said, smiling. It was nice to see that expression on his face as opposed to the scowl Cross had grown used to. Suddenly, the smile disappeared from his lover’s face and the scowl was back. Cross sat up, not comprehending.

  “What is it, Bren?”

  “I’ve got to go out for a bit. My lord is calling.” The dark-haired angel rolled to his feet and began rummaging in the bottom drawer of the dresser which was designated as his. Cross sighed and watched him get ready. It wasn’t really his fault. They were all subject to the whims of their Archangels even if they were on a sacred mission.

  “Be safe,” Cross heard himself say. He was surprised that he was already worrying over the other man. He’d grown to care for them all, but the vulnerability that Bren had just showed him tugged at something inside him.

  “I will. Tell bright eyes that I’ll be back for dinner, no problem.”

  Bren pulled out a pair of blue jeans and underwear and slipped them on. Wings unfolded from his back from the sigils inked there. They were given to them so that they could hide their wings while they were caring after Madigan on Earth. Bren’s wings were lovely, midnight black. He was almost invisible against a night sky when he flew. “Hey, Red.” The familiar irksome nickname drew Cross’s attention back to Bren.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Thanks. For everything.” Bren blushed as he spoke, and Cross’s heart swelled. After he’d met Madigan, Cross had thought he had given all of his heart to the half angel with the sassy attitude and the 30

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  adorable looks. He looked at Bren and then at Michel. Apparently, his heart had room for a few more.

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  Chapter Three

  Yuri finished his sandwich and drank his milk while reading through his magazine. It was no different from ancient Rome really.

  Every culture had their gladiators. The image appealed to him, so he watched the sports and read the highlights and behind-the-scenes clips. It was addicting really. The more he learned the more he wanted to know.

  Dex and Madigan had vanished a few minutes ago into the living room as the cries from upstairs had gotten to an obviously orgasmic level. They’d invited him along, but Yuri had declined. Madigan still wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with welcoming him into his body, and he didn’t want to push. He could bide his time. It was the most logical course of action.

  He flipped on the small kitchen TV to MTV and started watching Jersey Shore reruns. He’d seen them all multiple times, but he was always amused by those strange humans and their television show.

  He’d met Snooki’s guardian once. Nice guy. Loved being on TV.

  Lucky bastard. He came to the last advertisement in Sports Illustrated and sighed. He’d have to go out to the store and buy something else to read. At the rate he went, reading would’ve been an expensive habit had he had the need for cash.

  Madigan’s cry of release overwhelmed the screaming on the show, and Yuri’s cock answered by filling painfully. He glared down at his lap. It really wasn’t necessary for it to do that every time Madigan got a hard-on. But he supposed that was what he got for being mated to a newly born nephilim. They had notorious libidos, and Madigan was no exception. Dex must’ve been sating Madigan’s 32

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  hunger for the time being. At least once a day he needed them all at once. Which was fine with Yuri. If he got a particularly stubborn itch, he’d go find one of the other angels to scratch it. He glanced at the ceiling. Things must’ve gone well with Bren if the noises coming from there were any indication.

  “Yuri,” Dex’s voice sounded from the doorway. Yuri glanced his way in acknowledgement before turning his attention back to the television. “Yuri, he wants you.”

  Yuri pushed himself off the stool and crossed to the fridge where he pulled out the gallon of milk and poured him some more in a glass.

  “Didn’t you already fuck him? Why would he want me?”

  Dex shrugged. “I think he feels bad that you didn’t join us.”

  “Why?” Yuri asked. “I declined. It wasn’t like he didn’t make the offer.” He took a sip of his glass. Madigan was a strange human.

  Freaking hot. But strange.

  “He feels like you’re not as close to him as everyone else.” Dex crossed his huge arms over his chest. “You are a little more removed than the rest of us. You spend a lot of time by yourself.” Yuri shrugged. That was a common complaint by his lovers.

  “I’m a scholar. That’s what I do.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to make Madigan uncomfortable. “I’m just taking things slow with Madigan. Trust me when I say I am definitely interested.”

  Dex nodded. “Just making sure. I think Madigan feels the same way. It’s just sometimes when you’re not there, he wonders. You know?”

  “I’ll make a more concentrated effort to seek him out one-on-one once we are able to move about more freely. All right?” For once he didn’t add his bad mouth or his snide comments. Dex wasn’t the angel to mess with, especially not with Madigan. Normally, that wouldn’t stop him, but he felt like he should at least take the conversation seriously because Dex didn’t usually dwell on all that “feelings”

  bullshit.

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  “Okay.” Dex smiled and turned back to go into the den. “You should’ve joined us. It was phenomenal.” Wasn’t it always? Yuri glanced down at his still-aching cock. Yeah. Maybe he should’ve joined them.

  * * * *

  Bren enjoyed the wind on his face, even if it was colder than the third ring of hell. The expression made Bren smile. It was just an expression but one that Lucifer’s angel found funny. He’d heard the gong of his lord’s bell as he’d finished cleaning up his lovers. Some things couldn’t be interrupted, but that wasn’t one of them. He winged his way toward the temple that was on the outskirt of the city where Madigan lived. His lord would meet him there. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Like all angels bound to an Archangel, Bren was able to pick up on things that Lucifer wished of him. Meeting locations were the easiest.

  The particular Judaic temple where Luc wanted to meet belonged to a small congregation of Jewish people who were mostly middle class. Luc enjoyed going to their ceremonies mostly, giving them small blessings where he could. It was just his way. He could be very generous when he chose to be, or he could be very cruel. Being the devil allowed him to do both in equal measure. Bren wondered what sort of mood he’d be in when he arrived. He wasn’t very predictable.

  “Orgies on Saturdays, church on Sundays. You’re a walking conundrum, my Lord,” Bren said by way of greeting as he landed on the temple steps. Luc was staring off at something over in the adjacent cemetery. All angels looked like their archangel. It was like some unwritten rule or something. Lucifer sported the same pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes that Bren had. The difference was in the wings.

  Luc’s wings were a breathtaking violet color tipped in crimson.

  “Actually, services are on Friday. So though your schedule is flawed, it is still workable.” His lord’s voice was perfection, the 34

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  sound more akin to wind chimes than human speech, but then that was the angelic tongue for you. Bren bowed as he was addressed. It was customary after all. “My brother called me quite concerned this morning. He says that your new bonding is not going according to plan.”

  Bren worried his bottom lip. Crap. He hadn’t been expecting this.

  “Cross and I don’t always see eye to eye where Madigan is concerned,” he hedged. Eyes the color of pitch turned toward him.

  The archangels in general were ethereal creatures, and Bren always felt like Luc was looking straight through him whenever he drew his gaze.

  “So kill him so he can be replaced.” Luc’s solution was as logical as it was chilling. “If Madigan’s safety is compromised, then do what you must.”

  “What about Lord Raphael? He wouldn’t be too happy about me killing one of his top generals,” Bren protested. The thought of killing Cross made him sick to his stomach. A hand came up to touch the place where it churned. “Come on, Luc. That isn’t very smart.

  Especially since it is Raphael’s son we are guarding.”

  Luc’s black eyes assessed him quickly. “You have grown softer since being with them. In such a short span of time, you are displaying gentility that I’ve never known you to posses. Diplomacy was never in your skill set.” He sighed heavily and picked up a dead leaf that drifted onto the concrete steps. “I had not anticipated losing you forever when I allowed you to come on this mission, Brenin.

  Now I fear that I already have.”

  “You’ve not lost me,” Bren promised, even if he, too, wondered the same thing. He wasn’t the same man he was a month ago.

  Luc grunted but made no other sound of response. Bren sat on the steps beside his archangel. The sunshine was finally dissolving the morning mist. It had been clouded most of the day. Finally, Luc spoke.

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  “Weather is changing,” he said. Bren looked at his archangel.

  What was he getting at? Luc rarely called him to make idle chitchat.

  The archangel looked up into the sky as the sun ate away at the clouds. “A brief respite before a storm. Bundle up your Madigan come Monday, Bren. The weather is going to be nasty.” Then he stepped between worlds and was gone.

  Bren found himself alone on the temple steps. That was by far the strangest conversation he’d had with his lord. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was an omen of some kind. He looked up at the sky. A brief respite. Well, if that was the case, he better be getting home.

 

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