19. Only You

Simeon carried him from the parlor, and the journey was a blur of light and sounds he closed himself off from as best he could. He wanted to curl up in a dark hole and not move, not think, not feel. Just exist until it was easier. It had to get easier.

The black pit of emptiness was familiar. So fucking familiar. And he hated how well he knew the darkness, that oozing numbness that took away everything.

The first few weeks after the Massacre were a blur, his memory a fog. He only knew he came out of it relatively okay because Isaac was enrolled in public school, and there was food in the fridge. He was shopping for groceries, and had enough mental clarity to know his little brother needed to be in school because Angel was in no position or condition to take over his education.

While Isaac was home, Angel pretended everything was all right. As all right as things could be when everyone they knew and loved was dead. There was a near-constant knocking at the door of the Beacon Hill apartment for months after the Massacre—first, the police and government types, then as they stopped coming by with their endless questions, they were followed by the nosy, conspiracy theory, necromancer-hating weirdos who thought Angel was the next Antichrist. Angel had to look up what that was after the fifth or sixth time a mundane human yelled it at him through the door, and he kept the doors locked and waited them out.

After the conspiracy theorists came the curious. The practitioners who wanted to know how a young sorcerer defeated over a hundred vampires with one spell when an entire practitioner clan failed. And their unspoken question—why didn't he use that spell sooner? What spell did he use? How did he survive?

The truth was, Angel was expecting to die. He never thought he would live through the conflagration. The second his father died in front of him, Angel lost all hope, all sanity, and lit the primordial death magics animating the sentient undead on fire. The mourning fire spell consumed all death magics, devouring every single vampire within range—he cast it as wide as he could, with everything he had, the veil funneling in power to augment his own.

And it worked.

Every vampire on the estate, well over a hundred of them, died their second deaths in a chain reaction that swept from the vampires tearing apart Angel's shields to the vampires gorging themselves on his dead kin within the mansion.

They all burned.

He could still smell it. If he let himself, he could still hear the roars and screeches of pain.

He woke in bed in Beacon Hill. Familiar arms held him, and Angel rolled enough to bury his face in Simeon's chest, burrowing as close as he could manage to his mate.

A kiss landed in his hair, hands warmed by continuous contact rubbing up and down his naked back. He barely recalled Simeon undressing him and slipping into bed with him once they got home, and he had no idea how long he slept. It felt like hours.

"How are you feeling?" Simeon asked.

Angel took stock and groaned. "Slight headache and tired, but I'll be alright."

"I was worried for you," Simeon shared, kissing along Angel's temple then down to an ear. Angel shivered, waking up a bit more.

It was rare for Angel and Simeon to get time alone together when things were happening—and he was not missing this chance to get quality time with his mate. He wanted to bask in the love from his mate, cleanse his heart and soul of the grief and horror he had been forced to remember.

"I'm sorry I worried you," Angel said, meaning it. He never wanted to worry Simeon. "Can I make it up to you?"

Angel wasn't the best at flirting and he leaned back enough to see the smile on Simeon's face at his attempt. "You've had a horrible morning my love, so how about I take care of you?"

"What did you have in mind…?" Angel asked, even as Simeon pulled back just enough to gently maneuver Angel until he lay on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. Angel shivered in anticipation, knowing exactly what his mate had in mind.

Simeon manhandled him until the blankets were tossed aside, and he then settled between Angel's spread legs.

Simeon was warm, having lain beside him while Angel slept, and yet the cold, wet contact of his slick tongue between his cheeks had Angel gasping. Simeon chuckled and did it again, this time applying firm pressure to his hole, teasing the furled flesh until Angel moaned, long and low.

Every lick of that agile tongue had Angel crying out in pleasure. His mate knew him well, so well that Simeon was taking him apart piece by piece, leaving him a whimpering mess. Angel squirmed, Simeon holding him down with ease, not letting him escape the pleasure.

Simeon plunged the tip of his tongue past the tight muscle of his entrance, tasting him. Angel gasped and bit the pillow, teeth tearing the fabric.

Simeon growled, the sound reverberating through Angel's core, and he ground back pushing his ass toward Simeon, demanding more.

His mate obliged, tongue spearing him, a hint of fangs on the cleft of his ass, and he cried out, so hard he was seconds from coming. Somehow Simeon knew, sliding a hand underneath Angel and grabbing his cock, stroking it from root to tip.

Angel was ready to come, but Simeon clutched the base of his cock and squeezed, preventing his orgasm.

"Simeon, let me come or get that cock in my ass, now!" Angel demanded.

Simeon's weight left for a split second, then returned, the click of lube heralding the thick digit breaching his hole without preamble. More lube, another finger, and then Simeon was there, pressing the broad head of his cock deep inside, a burning stretch that stole his breath on a harsh gasp.

"Yes," he whimpered, even though it hurt. He loved that bite of pain, the hint of talons holding his hips, the promise of fangs piercing his skin. He was so full, stretched to the breaking point, touched so deep he felt like combusting from pleasure and pain. "More."

Simeon knew him well, knew what he needed, and obeyed without hesitation. Simeon rolled them both to the side, back to front, then moved behind him in a sinuous, sensuous roll and grind of his hips that made Angel keen loudly in surprised pleasure, thrashing in Simeon's arms.

"Do it! Please," Angel sobbed out, arching his neck to the side. Simeon thrust deep and bit faster than a striking viper, piercing Angel's neck with his fangs, drinking even as he fucked Angel into a whimpering puddle of quivering nerve-endings.

The pull on his neck and the cock plundering his depths left Angel a mess, and he came, shooting across the bedding, Simeon catching a spurt in one hand as Angel came untouched. Fangs withdrawing, Simeon thrust again and again even as he licked Angel's spend from his fingers.

Watching Simeon made Angel clench hard around his mate's cock, and Simeon growled, a deep rumble that shook Angel down to his bones. Angel scrambled to grab Simeon's arm, even as his mate came deep inside of him, a cool flood that quickly warmed to a molten-hot pool of pleasure. Angel grabbed Simeon's wrist and bit down hard, breaking the skin, Simeon groaning his approval even as he continued to come inside Angel.

The taste of Simeon was intoxicating, a primal flavor that spurred on Angel's deeper instincts, territorial and demanding. He shoved himself back in Simeon's arms even as the steel band of an arm yanked him closer, Angel drinking from his mate, hard cock in his ass, and the glow of a golden soulbond humming between them.