Warning: Before reading, please be aware that the explicitness or sexual scenes of this story will sometimes be under dubious consent or dub-con.
Metheea was whispering something.
It sounded like stop.
But it did not feel like one.
"Did I do anything inappropriate, Princess?" Azrayel asked quietly. His voice was calm, almost detached, stripped of heat, stripped of urgency, as if he were genuinely asking. "I am teaching you."
"I know what you are doing."
Her voice barely carried, breath threaded through it, and still her body trembled, a response she could not hide no matter how tightly she held herself together.
He did not laugh this time. There was no amusement in him now. His breath brushed her ear, controlled, unhurried, close enough that she felt it linger.
"If you knew," he said softly, "you would not be shaking."
