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She opened a foil packet carefully and rolled the condom down my length with more attention than the task strictly required. By the time she finished, I had a fistful of the coverlet and no faith whatsoever in my restraint.

I pressed her back into the pillows and knelt between her thighs, and she wound her legs around my waist as if she'd been planning it. She was slick and swollen, and I set the head of my cock against her and held there, watching her face.

"Look at me," I said.

She did, her chin lifted and her mouth parted, with nothing in her expression but want.

I pushed in slowly. She stretched around me by degrees, her breath stuttering, until I was seated to the root and neither of us moved. She was tight and wet and almost too hot to bear.

"Fuck," she whispered. "You're—"

"Breathe, beautiful."

"I'm breathing." She drew in a shuddering breath to prove it. "Now move, before I take matters into my own hands."

I withdrew almost to the tip and drove back in, and her heels dug into the small of my back. I decided the marks would be worth it.

I brought my wings forward until their tips met above her, closing us into a dark, private room of feathers, and caught her wrists in my left hand again, pinning them to the pillows because she'd looked so pleased about it the first time. She arched into the grip.

"Don't you dare be gentle," she said.

I wasn't. I fucked her in long, deep strokes that rocked her up the bed, and she met every one, her breasts shaking, her heels urging me on, her voice climbing until I suspected the old walls were about to be tested after all.

"You feel incredible," I said roughly. "Look at you, taking every inch of my cock like you were made for it. Tonight you're mine."

"Tonight," she agreed, gasping, "and you're mine."

The word landed somewhere beneath my ribs, and I kept moving anyway.

I slid my right hand between us and found her clit with my thumb, circling in time with my thrusts, and her whole body drew tight beneath me.

"Right there," she cried. "Oh God, right there—"

"Come on my cock, angel. I want to feel it."

She came again, harder, with a shout I felt through the mattress, her pussy clamping around me in long, rippling pulses that dragged me over the edge behind her. My wings snapped to their full span, every feather shuddering, and the sound that tore out of me wasn't a word in any language I'd ever used. I buried my face against her neck and emptied myself into the condom, shaking, her wrists still in my grip until I remembered to let go and her arms came around me.

For a long while I stayed where I was, my forehead against her shoulder and her heels still hooked at my back, her breath warm against my ear.

"Extremely loud," I said eventually. "You promised."

"I kept my word." Her laugh shook through both of us. "You nearly took down a lamp."

I withdrew carefully, holding the condom in place, and kissed her before I rose. In the bathroom I disposed of it, washed, and wet a cloth with warm water, and on my way back I carried the silver tray of bottled water and the two crystal tumblers in from the sitting room and set them on the bedside table. Everly watched from the pillows with drowsy amusement while I slipped off the gold shoes that had left their marks on my back and set them side by side on the carpet. Then I cleaned her, as gently as I could manage.

"Are you sore?" I asked.

"Pleasantly." She caught my wrist. "If that changes, I'll tell you. You can stop checking."

"I'll stop when I'm satisfied."

She smiled and pointed a lazy finger toward the foot of the bed. "My dress is being crushed."

I lifted it, little wings and all, and laid it over the armchair by the window. A scatter of gold threads stayed behind on the coverlet.

When I lay down again, she tugged me into the curve of her body. I settled my left wing behind us, folded safely out of her way, and she tucked herself against my side with a sigh, her fingers drifting over my ribs until they slowed.

I kept the mask on and one arm around her, and for a little while I let that be enough.