With Samael and a set of very messy king sized sheets still wrapped very tightly around her, Mara told him that she thought was still due for a good sulk. She didn’t think she should have to cancel her sulking just because an imaginary giant incubus dropped by to ravish her. Samael raised an eyebrow, smiled and pressed his thumb into a bruise on her shoulder until she winced.
“Was that real enough for you, my treasure, or should I bite you again? You seemed to like it, and maybe a set of tooth marks will convince you of my reality if this bruise does not.”
She bit his thumb until he let go of her shoulder and pinned her against the bed with a snarl. Angels do not like to be bitten, but do they have to be so grumpy about it? Mara pointed out that she didn’t particularly like to have her valuable sulking time interrupted, but she didn’t go around snarling at anyone, even if they deserved it for hurting her. She found her speech suddenly stopped by a very insistent angel kissing her, pulling her head back by the hair until she gasped and bit his lower lip.
The growling, she found, was not without appeal…
“What else makes you growl, Sami?”
“It’s a pet name, baby.”
“Baby? I am thousands of years old.”
“It’s term of endearment. Like treasure. You’re a literal fucker, aren’t you?”
“I do enjoy penetrating every part of you, my treasure…shall I demonstrate again?”