Chapter Nine

Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time

December 11, 2009

Crowley was ready to bite Azrial's head off when he realized she'd dragged him from the house mid sentence. As they landed though she shoved him into the wall dividing the small living space from the two bedrooms of their safe house. It left him winded for a moment, and Crowley found himself pinned under a furious silver gaze. Normally he'd try and pacify her fury, but he was too pissed to bother.

"What the hell, Azrial? How dare you toss me around."

He snarled the question but Azrial was immediately in his face, and despite being four inches shorter she somehow managed to make it feel like he was being shouted down at.

"Oh, don't even start with me, Crowley. How could you be so fucking stupid?"

Crowley bristled at the spat question and met her furious silver glare with his own.

"Stupid? What the hell are you on about?"

"Really? Being purposely obtuse doesn't suit you, Crowley."

He narrowed his eyes on her, and when he shoved her shoulder to get some distance between them the archangel stubbornly didn't move. Azrial's hand moved to his shoulder and shoved him harder against the wall. She dug her nails into his shoulder and he could feel the anger and aggravation rolling off her as she didn't give an inch. He snapped back ignoring the pressure on his shoulder, it wasn't enough to hurt him anyway.

"Why don't you explain how I was being obtuse, darling, instead of snipping at me?"

Azrial's eyes narrowed at the backhanded use of his normal name for her, but she hissed back without hesitation.

"You played right into Anderson's hands, and you revealed far more than you ever should have. It makes me wonder if I should let you anywhere near the operation with Lucifer."

It felt like Azrial had thrown gasoline over the already raging fire of his temper with her last comment. Like hell he was letting her face off against Lucifer with nothing but a ragtag group of hunters who'd take any opportunity to kill his ace if they had the chance.

"The situation was well in hand, Azrial. You won't be going anywhere near that psychotic brother of yours without my help."

Azrial bristled and her nails dug deeper into his shoulder for a moment before she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I won't? Like you could stop me, Crowley. The situation was out of your hands as soon as he mentioned your second exorcism. Something I never should have found out about from a freaking exorcist."

"We agreed never to speak of our past. That happened before you came along, as you damn well know. If you're going to hold that against me, then why don't you tell me about what you were doing in Scotland back in the 1600's?"

The question caused the archangel to freeze, and for a moment there was a heavy silence over the room.

Azrial's voice was deadly quiet as she whispered, "Don't you dare bring that up, Crowley, or I swear-"

"What will you actually do, Azrial? We've done this song and dance more than once."

Crowley couldn't keep the mocking tone out of his voice and with a scream of frustration Azrial grabbed the nearest object, a vase, and chucked it at the wall. A flash of satisfaction lit her face as it shattered to pieces and Crowley rolled his eyes. He was used to this. When Azrial's temper finally snapped it was always explosive, but he put that down to her having such a long fuse. Normally he'd be fine with her breaking whatever she wanted but the vase was actually expensive, even for him. One of the few pieces he'd moved from his manor in preparation of going against Lucifer.

"Control your temper, Azrial."

Again, he couldn't keep the smug tone out of his voice and he instantly regretted it. Their eyes met and Crowley could see the challenging flash in her silver eyes. She strode up to the table and grabbed a half-finished crystal tumbler of his favorite scotch with a smirk on her lips.

"Don't. You. Dare."

Crowley stepped away from the wall, and his now red eyes narrowed on the serenely smiling archangel who was loosely holding the expensive scotch.

"Whoops."

She sang the word as she dropped the crystal tumbler to the floor and before Crowley could react, it shattered. He let out a yell of frustration and launched at her, but Azrial stepped aside with an easy familiarity. How often had they been here? Enough that it was almost nice to fall back into the old pattern with the world burning around them. Crowley narrowed his eyes on her tense shoulders as he finally put two and two together.

This wasn't about what happened with Anderson, not really.

Sure, Azrial was annoyed about it, but if anything, her issue was with Anderson more than him. The fury, anger, and aggravation were from what was coming more than what had occurred. Crowley actually felt foolish for not having realized it sooner. The archangel twisted her body grabbing a new bottle of his scotch and Crowley decided come hell or high water that bottle was going to be saved from the archangel's temper.

"Azrial, put the bottle down."

Crowley pushed as much warning into his voice as he could. Azrial just smirked as her grip tightened on the bottle and she swung it back and forth carelessly.

"Or what, Crowley? What are you really going to do? After all, we've done this song and dance many times before."

Crowley hissed in annoyance as she turned his words back on him. Azrial's smirk became a predatory smile and she lifted the bottle, her intent clear. Crowley didn't give her a chance and launched at her, and to his surprise, managed to pin the normally agile archangel against the door leading to one of the bedrooms. It was the final piece of proof he needed that she was off her game. Azrial gasped as her back connected with the door, and glared up at him. Just as she was about to let go of the bottle out of spite, he pinned the hand holding it above her head, his fingers gripping her wrist hard enough to bruise despite the archangel's durability. Damn it, he wasn't losing that bottle.

The sound that fell from Azrial's lips made him forget all about the bottle of scotch in her hand as his eyes fell to her startled, silver gaze.

It was a cross between a soft moan and exhale, and it took him by surprise. Crowley tightened his grip around Azrial's wrist once more. He needed to know if it was a one-off or not. The same sound ripped from her throat, and her head fell back against the door with a frustrated huff as Crowley realized he wasn't going to let this go. He used his free hand to grab the bottle from Azrial's hand ignoring the mild glare from the archangel as he banished it safely back to the table before fully focusing on her.

"Crowley, don't start something you can't finish."

Her voice was low, and there was a dark promise behind her words that had him throwing all caution to the wind. Crowley grabbed her chin, jerking it up to look at him and Azrial swallowed thickly. It was clear by the look in her eyes that she wasn't going to stop him.

How many times had they been here, and one of them had backed off before this tension could build? How many arguments had left them this close before one of them stormed off?

More than he could count, and truthfully, he'd never minded it. It was a pattern he had grown accustomed to and they'd both been careful never to cross the line of partners into something more. Something that would muddy the waters of what was acceptable, and what wasn't.

"Heh. Knew you wouldn't do shit. Let go of me, Crowley."

The mocking tone had Crowley growling, and he tightened his grip on her wrist. Without warning, Crowley crashed his lips against hers relishing the sharp gasp from the archangel below him that allowed him to deepen the kiss as he kept a firm grip on her wrist. Azrial's free hand immediately wrapped around his neck dragging him closer as she tried to dominate the kiss. Crowley snarled and nipped her lip causing Azrial to moan softly as he pressed her tightly against the wall, unwilling to give up control. His hand fell to her waist and he quickly undid her jeans. His hand dipped past the waist of her pants and he dug his fingers into her hips. Azrial's hips jolted forward, and she broke the kiss with a satisfied moan as she moved her free hand to the doorknob at her side.

Crowley grunted as the door opened with a click and swung out behind the archangel who stepped back due to the lack of support and caused both of them to tumble to the floor. Azrial landed on her back with a grunt of pain, and she tried to push herself up. Crowley didn't give her the chance to move and used his position to shove her hips down, and quickly yanked off her boots. It took several precious seconds, and Crowley had to shove Azrial's hips down again as she squirmed against his grip. He yanked the jeans off next, making sure to pull her underwear off with them. He was on his knees now, and Azrial finally sat up slightly. Her back was against the frame of the bed, and Crowley quickly moved forward and pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Azrial's heated gaze met his, and his fingers dragged up her bare legs as he dipped his head down dragging his teeth against her jugular. Her throaty moan was music to his ears, and he dragged his nails down Azrial's inner thighs causing the archangel to squirm against him.

"Fucking tease."

Her voice dripped with lust as she hissed out the words as his fingers ghosted a breath away from clit. Crowley pulled his head away from her neck, and started down at the archangel hungrily.

"I'm the tease? No, I think that title belongs to you, darling."

Azrial huffed, but it caught in her throat as he dragged his fingers teasingly against her entrance before quickly pulling away. The glare he received would have lesser men quickly bowing to her desires, but Crowley could care less if the stubborn angel was sexually frustrated. He was going to take his time. He stood up, pulling her with him before shoving her back onto the bed. Azrial landed against the mattress and pushed herself up with her forearms.

"You're overdressed."

There was a subtle demand in her statement and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"I thought an angel would know how to ask nicely for something."

Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to respond before her expression morphed from mild annoyance to sheer innocence.

"You're right."

The words were purred in one of the most convincingly innocent and honeyed tones he'd heard in a long time.

God have mercy on his nonexistent soul.

Azrial pushed herself forward until she was kneeling on the edge of the bed. She reached out and grabbed his sleeve pulling him closer until she was able to bury her face in his neck. He could feel her breath against his skin, but she didn't do anything more than gently nuzzle his neck as her hands moved to wrap around his waist. Then her voice ghosted against his ear, "Will you please undress?"

Damn her for somehow making that question sound desperate.

He felt her fingers ghosting under his shirt as she continued to undo the buttons. She gave a sharp nip at his neck making him bite back a groan as she pulled away to focus on the buttons that seemed to be giving her trouble if her slight pout was anything to go by. The last button finally gave and she looked up to meet his eyes, and he was taken aback by the desire and need he saw shining there. There was still a part of him waiting for Azrial to back away, to come to her senses and realize she didn't want this.

She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off with a demanding kiss, his fingers lacing through her hair and pulling her toward him. His other hand came to rest on her back and he dragged his nails harshly down the middle of her back causing the angel to moan into the kiss. He took the chance to deepen the kiss and was mildly surprised she didn't fight to dominate the kiss again, but rather gave into him. Crowley felt her hands at his waist and could feel her fingers trying to undo his dress pants while still focusing on the kiss. The angel broke the kiss with an aggravated growl but he moved from her mouth to her neck with ease, biting down on the pale skin between her collarbone and neck. Azrial gave a hiss of pleasure as her eyes fell shut. He felt the button finally loosen signaling that the angel won her battle with the fabric. Her cool fingers dragging against his hips as she pushed the pants down had him releasing her neck to shove her back onto the bed. She dug her nails harshly into his hip to protest the movement before letting herself fall back on to the bed. Her eyes bore into him as he quickly rid himself of the pants and also let his shirt fall to the floor.

"You seem to be taking your sweet time," Azrial huffed.

Crowley smirked as he got into the bed, placing a knee next to the archangel's hip as he leaned down to capture her lips in another bruising kiss. He felt one of her legs wrap around his hip and pull him closer and he broke the kiss and grabbed her jaw firmly and tilted it to the side as he nipped harshly at her neck shutting his eyes as she rocked her hips forward with a needy whine. The position allowed Azrial to bury her face into his shoulder and he could feel her sharp intake of breath as he rocked his hips teasingly forward.

"You're so demanding."

He whispered the statement against her jaw, taking a moment to get his thoughts in order as the smell of moonflower and rain began to suffocate him. Crowley dragged his teeth against her jugular as her arms came to rest around his neck.

"You smell nice," Azrial moaned into his neck, her nails digging into his shoulder blades.

She probably never intended for him to hear it given the dazed way it was breathed against his heated skin. He pulled back to look down at her and was mildly surprised to see half-lidded silver eyes staring back at him. A strange warmth filled him at seeing that, knowing she was so lost in the moment that her grace was at the forefront.

He sat up for a moment to pull himself further onto the bed dragging Azrial with him when a thought crossed his mind. He pulled her into a half-sitting position and ran his fingers lightly down her back causing the angel to shudder.

"Show me your wings."

It was phrased more like a demand than a request and Azrial just gave him a befuddled look, her eyes swimming with lust. Crowley dug his nails into the spot right above her tailbone and that seemed to have the words click in the angel's mind. A moment later six black wings were splayed out behind her, though the main ones seemed intent on trying to wrap around. Azrial shifted in an attempt to stop them cocooning him going as far as to push the appendage down with a slightly embarrassed twitch of her lips.

"They have a mind of their own."

It was one hell of a sight. In all the years he'd known her he'd never seen an expression quite like that on her face. Her cheeks were flushed and she was clearly flustered by the, if he had to guess, instinctual actions of her body. A feral grin filled his face and Crowley quickly flipped the distracted angel onto her stomach, letting out an amused snort at the yelp from Azrial. She pushed herself back up but he pinned her shoulder to the bed using his seated position for leverage. He ran his free hand down her back, dragging his nails down the flesh between her wings. The black appendages seemed to flutter weakly before deciding to fall limp against the bed as the angel below him moaned. Azrial squirmed and once more tired to sit up. He dug his nails deeper into her back, enough to break the skin, and watched in mild fascination as she let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Azrial pulled her legs toward her chest, the movement meaning the angel was now on her hands and knees trembling in pleasure due to the overstimulation she was experiencing.

"Beautiful."

He wasn't entirely sure where the thought came from, but it was true enough. Crowley shifted so he was kneeling behind her, and kept one hand against her shoulder, the other loosely tangling through her hair. In a swift movement, he buried himself inside her. Azrial cried out in pleasure at the feeling despite the lack of warning and he tightened the hand around her hair in response leaving the angel competently breathless as he began to move his hips. Her cries of pleasure were echoing through the small room and she was doing her best from the pinned position he had her in to meet each thrust, causing him to tighten his grip on her hair as he groaned in pleasure. The tips of Azrial's wings brushed against his side and he shuddered slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. The feathers seemed to carry a bit of her grace and it left the skin they touched warm. It was like standing next to a low burning fire rather than the furious sun he had learned to associate with other angels.

"Crowley," Azrial breathed out his name in such a way it became a plea.

Her arms were splayed in front of her, her nails digging into the dark sheets. Crowley released her hair and watched as Azrial let her face drop to the bed with a weak mewl. Her hair fell almost entirely to her right side leaving her neck exposed as she turned her head to take a needy breath. His hand brushed through the feathers that were brushing against his side and the sound that fell from her lips was like nothing he'd ever heard before, and her whole body seemed to jolt back at the gentle touch. Crowley groaned, his other hand moving from her shoulder to grip her hip. He dug his nails into the pale skin, and he could feel it break under his fingers. Carefully, he dragged his fingers through the black feathers again and the same addictive sound greeted his ears, but time accented by a needy whine when Azrial found she couldn't move. Crowley fell into a slow pace, hard deep thrusts coupled with running his fingers through the velvet feathers that were as warm as the rays of the summer sun under his fingers.

Azrial's voice broke the silence, and he had to focus to try and figure out what she was saying. It took him a few moments to realize the lustful archangel had slipped into Enochian. He leaned down slightly, the shift causing Azrial to let out a strangled cry of pleasure.

"I can't understand you, darling."

Azrial's labored breathing was the only verbal response he got from her. Crowley shifted back to his kneeling position, and with a strength he didn't realize he possessed stopped moving inside the trembling archangel under him.

"Crowley. Move."

Despite her breathless voice, the demand held a mild heat. Crowley couldn't help but chuckle as he ghosted his fingers down her spine, watching in satisfaction as she shivered.

"I thought we already established that angels are polite?"

"Go fuck yourself."

The rebuttal was muttered in an exhausted, desperate, voice. Crowley smirked as he moved his hand from her hip back to her hair. He pulled it, causing Azrial to arc off the bed, and he leaned forward to brush his nose against her skin.

"I'll pass. This is much more satisfying," he whispered against her neck.

Crowley could practically hear her heartbeat, though it was nothing more than her powerful grace thrumming in her chest, over the labored breathing. He moved his other arm to wrap around Azrial's stomach, right below her breasts. It forced the archangel into a semi kneeling position, and he was easily able to nuzzle his face into her neck as she cried out at the forced shift in position. Crowley knew with the change in position she was unable to move and dragged his teeth against her jugular enjoying the shudder that ran down her body.

"I hate you."

The statement was gasped out, and Crowley smirked, nipping at her ear.

"You adore me. You adore this."

Crowley gave one hard thrust and Azrial's head fell back against his shoulder as she cried out. His control was slipping by the moment though, and he needed to move this along.

"Just ask nicely, darling."

There was the smallest huff from Azrial, her heavy breaths leaving him unsure if it was intentional or not.

"Please, stop teasing me and move."

The words were barely strung together but he smiled against her neck and removed his arm from her stomach, allowing her to press her torso back against the cool sheets.

"Your wish is my command."

Crowley couldn't keep the touch of smugness out of his voice, but given the scream of pleasure from the dazed archangel as he started an admittedly brutal pace, he doubted she cared. The next several minutes were a blur, but the moment Azrial cried out her release, he lost himself as well. Her wings had flared directly back and all six of them brushed against his skin. The wings falling flat against the bed moments later drew his attention back to the archangel sprawled beneath him, panting heavily as she tried desperately to catch her breath. His own body was feeling like a lead weight so he quickly pulled out of her, snorting at the whine that came from the body below him. Crowley carefully lifted the wings on the right side of her body and fell down onto the bed next to Azrial, doing his best to catch his breath. He wasn't surprised when three wings fell against his stomach and chest. He felt her pressed tightly against his side, and he had every intention of getting up once his body didn't feel like putty. Crowley shut his eyes taking a steadying breath, as he focused on himself for a moment. He could still feel her grace clinging to his aura and he wondered if that was what had left him so winded. It had to be. No bout of sex could leave him this breathless and exhausted. No woman, not even Azrial, was that good.

That was his last thought before he drifted off into an unexpected, but very much needed nap.

Line break

December 12, 2009

Crowley woke slowly up, and groaned softly. He felt relaxed, and far less tense than he had in recent days. His eyes snapped open at the feeling of a weight on his arm. He quickly turned to see raven hair sprawled over his arm, and a soft, pale, buxom chest pressed tightly against his side.

What the bloody hell had he done?

Azrial let out a soft hum as she seemed to snuggle, perish the thought, closer to his body. He cursed softly as he tried to remove his arm, but it was a useless effort. The stubborn angel seemed to cling tighter to him, and it resulted in her nose being pressed tightly against his neck. Black wings were also intent on pulling him closer, and Crowley's nose twitched as the feathers brushed against his face.

What did he do now?

He'd been so careful, so very very careful, never to find himself in this position with the archangel.

Had he thought about it? Of bloody course he had, what self respecting demon wouldn't? It hadn't been a risk he'd been willing to take though. Azrial could be tempermental at times, and Crowley had the feeling the archangel would become territorial of him, had he attempted to bed her.

Now he had, and despite the panic racing through his body part of him felt pride and satisfaction.

But what did he do now?

He could leave, and when she came to him brush off the entire incident. It would be the wise thing to do. Go back to the status quo, and forget all that had happened.

Forget the feeling of her, the smell, the grace wrapping around him, and the way she screamed his name.

Crowley shut his eyes and gave an aggravated growl, just as there was a soft exhale from the angel pressed against him.

He was far too selfish to forget what had occurred, and as much as Crowley could accuse Azrial of being territorial he was far worse. He knew she'd had other lovers over the years, they both had, and now the idea of her going to another left him slightly homicidal.

Correction, majorly homicidal.

His demonic nature quickly won out, and he dragged a hand through her raven hair as he enjoyed the feeling of her power pressed so close to him. Crowley hummed and decided that he'd follow her lead, for now. The archangel's eyes opened at the touch and sleepy cobalt eyes peered up at him. He had a front row seat as a myriad of emotions played through Azrial's constantly expressive eyes. Shock, confusion, embarrassment, and finally acceptance were just the few he caught.

"So," her voice was slightly ragged, and Crowley felt a wave of satisfaction roll over him, "that was something."

"Just something?"

His own voice was more a growl than normal, but the shudder that ran through the archangel had his gaze quickly turning hungry once more.

"Something."

The word was whispered as an open ended question, and Crowley hummed as he realized Azrial was allowing him an out.

"You won't engage Lucifer without me."

Crowley growled the command and there was a flash of surprise in her eyes. Shel had clearly forgotten their argument. His command held a double meaning though, if she accepted it would be admitting far more than the fact he'd won the argument. Crowley could see the war in her eyes, but Azrial finally gave the slightest nod and murmured, "I won't."

Her fingers gripped his arm tightly at the promise, and Crowley smirked as he moved his hand from her hair to tilt her chin to kiss her. It was only a moment before he pulled back and spoke a breath from her lips.

"Good. We best prepare for speaking with that ragtag group of hunters once more."

"Agreed."

Azrial's muttered agreement had the archangel pulling away, and he let her go. He watched as her wings vanished from his sight once more, and much to his surprise he found himself already planning on how to get her back in his bed as she dressed.

This was certainly an interesting development, but somehow Crowley doubted he'd do it differently if given the chance.