#Chapter25
Lucien, panting, wild eyed and all for it, relished in it. His mouth had parted, the author of such sweet sounds, and when Angel ran a thumb against the warm seed on his cheek, only to smear it over his man's lips like a whore's lipstick, Lucien's tongue poked out, lapping it up.
Afterwards, they showered. The bath had been cut short, and while Angel wasn't opposed to sending Lucien to work with his spunk dried up in his hair as a silent claim to anybody who so much glanced in his direction, he didn't follow it through. They stood together under the lukewarm spray, brushing soap against one another in tender touches, sharing kisses that were so soft and intimate, it felt as though each one was worth a fraction of his soul.
