Tony didn't realize he was trembling until Angel pulled back from the kiss.
He stared at the beautiful creature in front of him with wonder as he sat there—legs parted to accommodate Angel between them—on the carpeted floor.
His hands still rested on Angel's waist.
Tony's heart felt full—like it would burst any minute.
Angel's lips lingered close to him—still kneeling, fingers were locked behind Tony's neck.
Wet.
Parted.
His warm breath fanning over Tony's face.
Their eyes met.
Forgetting everything—their worries, their fight.
The danger that was gaining on them.
All Tony saw was the emotion within Angel's eyes.
'He loves me,' he wanted to scream and cry with joy.
And for the first time ever since they'd run away—since the gun, the tears, the confession—Tony's heart didn't race with panic.
It beat calmly.
Steady.
Grounded.
Alive.
He was still broken, yes.
Still bleeding inside.
The beast and the darkness were still there.
But Angel's admittance of love had tamed it.
They stared at each other in silence for a long while—their positions unchanging.
Time seemed to freeze.
Earth seemed to stop rotating.
Until finally, Tony's voice cracked through the stillness.
"Can you say it again," he whispered, begging, hands tightening on Angel's waist.
His lifeline.
"Can you say that again…that you love me?"
Angel shyly smiled at him.
Genuine.
Small.
Warm.
"I'll say it until you get sick of it," Angel whispered, fingers tightening behind Tony's neck—pulling him a bit closer.
"I'll never get sick of it," Tony answered immediately.
Angel laughed softly then turned serious.
He fully leaned down on Tony, pressing their foreheads together.
"I love you."
The words were sweet.
Soft.
Certain.
Solemn.
Like a vow.
"I love you Antonio Santa De Leones," Angel continued like he was saying a spell.
Then a grin.
'God, he was so beautiful,' Tony swallowed hard.
"I love you Tony."
And in a sincere trembling voice—that sent tingles down to Tony's skin and caressed his soul—
"I love you so damn much."
Those words made Tony's steady heart thunder loudly.
"I love you too, Angel Dolci."
He leaned up for another kiss, but Angel stopped him and pulled his head back.
The knotted fingers behind Tony's neck began to move.
It touched his cheeks, traced his nose, and his lips.
But Tony's brows still furrowed, not liking that he was denied.
Again.
But Angel only smiled—his hands went down to Tony's hands over his waist—taking them off him.
Then he gently pushed on Tony's chest, easing him down onto the carpeted floor—making him lay on his back.
Tony blinked in surprise.
Just earlier, he'd imagined laying Angel down on this sapphire carpet and having his dirty way with him.
But now, he was the one on his back.
But Tony let Angel do whatever he wanted.
He surrendered without a fight.
"Tsk," Angel clicked his tongue, then climbed over Tony—straddling him just above the knees with slow, deliberate confidence.
Angel's royal blue robe completely slipped down to his waist.
Tony stayed reclined on the carpet, torso bare, jeans still on but unbuttoned—fly half open.
Angel's hand went to Tony's waistband, fumbling to tug the tight jeans down.
"Stupid jeans," Angel growled.
Tony laughed, amused and aroused.
"What are you doing, babe?" he asked, breathing ragged.
Angel paused, a sheepish look on his pretty face.
"I'm gonna show you my love," Angel murmured.
Tony started to move, arms reaching for Angel.
But—
"No," Angel slapped his hands away, firm but playful.
"You always take control, Tony."
Tony's eyes narrowed with curiosity.
Angel's breathing hitched, still trying to be brave.
"Tonight, let me be the one in control," he said, breathlessly.
Tony's eyes gleamed.
His cock twitched.
He teased, "Mister Dolci, I never knew you had this side to you."
Angel rolled his eyes.
"You haven't seen it all, yet," Angel said, his violet eyes twinkling.
"You always pounce on me like an animal in heat."
Then he leaned down again, dragging Tony's jeans past his hips.
"For once, shut up and let me do all the work."
There was a hint of determination in his voice.
Tony relaxed into the carpet.
Or at least, he tried to.
'Shit, it's gonna be a long, long night.'
"Suit yourself, amore," he rasped, silver eyes smoldering.
Tony's length sprang free—veined, flushed, thick and hard, aching for touch.
Angel gulped inaudibly.
"Need help, babe?" Tony asked, teasing, his hands turning into a fist, controlling himself.
"No," came the firm reply.
Angel leaned in close, breathing heavily in Tony's skin—drinking his scent.
Then—Angel's sweet sweet tongue started to lick.
Tentative at first.
His eyes went to Tony to gauge his reactions.
Once Angel saw the fire in his eyes, he went still.
"Go on, babe," Tony's voice held a lot of self control, his knuckles turning white.
Angel groaned once.
Then he kissed Tony's skin.
He bit as he trailed down, knees on Tony's both sides.
'Shit,' Tony cursed inside his head.
His body was on fire.
Angel went lower.
Tony had to fight every instinct to stop him and flip the script.
But he watched.
Whole body stiffened with anticipation.
He held his breath.
His eyes never leaving Angel—locked on his every move.
Every touch.
Until Angel took his shaft with those soft divine hands and started moving it up and down—pumping slowly.
Tony almost died.
"Do you like this?" Angel asked.
"Fuck yes, babe," he growled like an animal, eyes dropping to Angel's bare chest—then lower.
'Fuck, he's also hard,' Tony realized, eyes were now locked on the strain beneath Angel's robe.
His veins popped.
He nearly came right there.
"I need you. I want you, amore," he encouraged Angel, voice wreaked with need and lust.
He liked what Angel was doing to his body.
Angel's hands continued to tease and test Tony's patience to a breaking point.
Time felt so long.
"Shit, that feels so good, babe," his voice had gotten rough, his mouth went dry.
Just seeing Angel pleased him like this, made Tony almost lose his mind.
The tip of his cock leaked.
Then suddenly—the hands were gone, Angel let go of it—and replaced it with his mouth.
Wet.
Soft tongue.
Circling.
Tasting.
Then, Angel sucked.
Tony lost it.
He grabbed Angel's shoulders mid-motion, flipping him over with a low groan.
Swift and precise.
Angel laughed breathlessly beneath him.
"Did you get to have your fun, babe?" Tony growled, serious, eyes devouring Angel whole.
Angel continued to laugh, but his eyes were full of desire.
"You couldn't wait, could you?"
Tony hovered above him, eyes dark with hunger.
"Some other time, I'll let you play with my body," he said, voice thick.
"But right now, I'm already at my limit."
He leaned in, kissing Angel's forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, and finally—those delicious lips.
"I really can't hold it anymore."
Then Tony inhaled the scent of Angel's skin.
'Fucking divine.'
"I'm dying to be inside you," he murmured.
And then—Tony pounced.
He yanked off Angel's robe, nearly tearing it in the process.
The room filled with heat, breathless moans and the sound of bodies meeting.
**
Tony woke up with a start.
His hands reached instinctively across the bed—
But all he felt was the cold sheets.
He sat up, breath catching.
Sleep evaporated instantly.
A strange silence blanketed the suite.
The shadows felt hushed.
He scanned the bedroom.
Tangled sheets.
Fully drawn curtains filtering in the morning light.
Clothes scattered on the floor.
The scent of sex lingered to his skin.
Something was wrong.
"Angel?" he called, his voice came out low.
Rough.
Unused.
There was no answer.
He stood, sheets pooling at his feet, wholly naked and tense.
A whisper of dread slipped into his chest.
'No.'
He pulled on his jeans in a hurry, then reached for his second gun in the nightstand drawer—the first one was still where Angel threw it last night.
He then slid it into the back of his waistband.
Still barefoot, he opened the partition door and went out of the room.
'Where is he?'
All he could think about was Angel.
'His presence was gone, and someone was here.'
An uninvited guest.
Tony ran a hand through his hair, breath shallow, his mind already racing with wild possibilities.
But he remained calm.
Tried.
Then he rounded a corner.
There, lounging in the middle of the sofa, someone was sipping tea—as if she had all the time in the world.
Dressed in all black.
Hair tied tightly on her back.
One leg over the other.
A porcelain teacup in one hand.
Gun on the other, already raised, fingers on the trigger, aimed at Tony.
Their eyes met.
She put down the teacup with a quiet click.
"Well, hello there, Santa De Leones," she grinned.
Like they were old time friends.
Tony's eyes twitched.
"Long time no see," his voice was flat and dangerous.
She smiled wider at his answer, playing her game.
Then Tony murmured her name.
"Beth."
**