Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

(Warning: More Mature Content Ahead)

Celeste’s POV

*****

His tongue circled my cunt, each twirl making me squirm uncontrollably. Only for him to stick it back into me, hitting just the right spot to make every cell in me scream.

Magic sizzled beneath my skin. I could feel it. I held it back as much as I could, grounding myself by tousling his long black hair. That didn’t last long though.

Azrael grabbed my wrists with one hand, pinning them right above my head. He didn’t give a reason, continuing with what he was doing like he was on a mission.

If that mission was to leave me wrecked it was totally working.

"Azrael—I’m..." I choked on the words, unable to let them out for a beat. When I could I couldn’t control how loud I was. "... Oh, Azrael! I’m—I’m coming—"

"Then come," he murmured. "Come for me, Celeste. I want you dripping on my mouth."

I didn’t hold back, my thighs clenching on his head. I came undone, my body trembling as an explosion of ecstasy left me shaking.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

Yet Azrael didn’t stop, only pulling out for a moment to lick off what remained of my orgasm. I managed to raise my head enough to see that smug look on his face.

"Everything about you is sweet," he pressed a kiss on my thigh, moving upward until he got to his knee. "Divine." Another kiss. "Sinful in the best way imaginable."

He lifted himself off the floor, his rock-hard cock throbbing like a damn beacon in the darkness. He knelt on the bed, positioning himself between my legs.

His fingers clenched on my knees, keeping me open and ready. "... You make me question my sanity, little miss," his length touched my slickness. "And if this is insanity—I want to live, breathe and consume it for the rest of my immortal life."

The words took me by surprise, heat flooding my cheeks. "You have such a way with words even in the most heated moments."

He said nothing to that, pressing himself against me. I shivered, knees tightening around his waist. Pulling him in gradually. He maintained eye contact, following my breathing.

Then—he drove all the way in, the motion making me gasp. My eyes fluttered shut, back arching off the bed. His hands wrapped around my back, lifting me off a bit.

He bucked his waist backwards once before slamming in again, harder this time. I groaned, forcing him to go at a faster pace.

His strokes were long and steady, hands grounding me through it. At one point he brought his mouth to my nipples, flicking his tongue over them.

I didn’t know when I slid my hands down over his broad back—slick with sweat—and grasped his pumping buttocks.

That made him shiver a bit but he didn’t stop, his mouth leaving my nipples and trailing higher to my neck. No fangs this time. His tongue worked over my sensitive skin, lips nibbling and sucking.

"Fuck," hearing Azrael Vaelmont use the F word was a rarity. That’s if he ever has. But he did, the word imprinting on my skin. "You’re mine."

A pulse of heat surged through me at those words, something deeper than everything we’d already done. My fingers tightened against him, nails pressing into his skin as if I could hold onto that moment—anchor it.

"Say that again," I breathed, though I wasn’t sure if I wanted the answer... or feared it.

Azrael didn’t repeat himself.

Instead, his grip on me tightened, one hand sliding up my spine, pressing me closer as his rhythm shifted—slower now. Deeper.

Like he was feeling me instead of just taking me.

The change made my breath stutter.

"Look at me," he murmured.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his.

And damn... That was worse.

Because whatever hunger had been there before had changed into something heavier. Something that made my chest tighten in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

His movements didn’t stop, but they softened—each thrust rolling into the next, dragging something fragile out of me.

"Azrael..." my voice came out thinner this time, trembling at the edges.

His forehead dipped to mine again, breath uneven as he exhaled against my lips.

"Stay with me," he whispered as if I had anywhere else to go.

The pressure coiled again. Not sharp like before—no, this one built like a tide, pulling me under inch by inch.

My legs tightened around him, my body reacting before my thoughts could catch up. Every movement, every shift of his hips, every breath we shared... it all blurred together until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.

"You feel that?" He muttered, almost to himself.

I nodded weakly, unable to form words.

His hand slipped between us, fingers finding their way back to that sensitive spot, pressing just right—just enough to push me over that edge again.

... I was going to come again.

My back arched, a broken sound leaving me as everything snapped at once.

It wasn’t explosive this time. It was consuming.

A slow unravel that left me clutching onto him, my body trembling as wave after wave rolled through me.

Azrael followed not long after.

I felt it in the way he stilled—just for a second—before his grip tensed, his breath hitching sharply against my neck. A low, strained sound escaped him, muffled against my skin as he buried his face there.

Then everything went still.

Our breathing filled the space between us, uneven and heavy.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Carefully, almost hesitantly, Azrael lowered me back against the bed. His hands didn’t leave me, though. They lingered—one at my waist, the other brushing stray strands of hair from my face.

His touch had changed again.

Softer now.

"You alright?" He asked quietly.

The question caught me off guard.

I blinked up at him, still trying to piece myself back together. "...Yeah." More than alright, actually.

But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

His thumb brushed lightly against my cheek, studying me like he was searching for something. Making sure.

When he seemed satisfied, he exhaled—something almost like relief slipping through.

Then he shifted, reaching for the discarded sheets and pulling them over me first before settling beside me. Close enough that I could feel his warmth, but not overwhelming.

I turned my head slightly, watching him.

"You’re being... surprisingly gentle," I murmured.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Don’t get used to it."

Liar.

I shifted closer anyway, resting my head lightly against his shoulder. He froze for half a second—just long enough for me to notice—before relaxing into it.

His arm came around me, pulling me just a little closer.

And this time?

He didn’t let go.