Azazel, Seven Days of Sin: Monday
I am Azazel and you know what that delightful little fellow Enoch has said about me? A lover of women, a procurer of beauty, a bad boy to the core...
Well, he got it right and I was on the prowl for something... exquisite. More
He gasped when his eyes caught sight of a pretty little blond sitting in a cafe across the street. She was slight of form, short and waif like, but she had a determined expression. Her face was chiseled from the finest marble, pure and delicate. That shoulder-length, wheat blond hair framed an aristocratic face, those sharp hazel eyes trained on the newspaper. Soft, natural tones highlighted her lids while her lips were supple, large and shiny with gloss giving her a natural look that made him want to scoop her up and deposit her in a garden where he could consume her all night under the moon full. She had little jewelry on, an elegant watch and an expensive rosary around her neck. But, she didn’t need trinkets to heighten her beauty… she was divine.
He cocked a brow as he ran his eyes over her body. She wasn't stick thin, but elegant and curvy in the right places. Her breasts were slightly small, but the roundness of her ass made up for that. And those long, sheer legs promised a night wrapped in pleasure.
Yeah, she definitely passed the physical inspection.
Floating closer, he passed through the window, a light breeze the only clue to his existence. He got close, his lips nearly brushing her cheek and inhaled. Sweet chamomile and baby powder. He closed his eyes, letting the scent intoxicate him.
She gasped softly and looked up for a moment as if startled, then slowly returned to her newspaper. Getting in close, Azazel could see the warring colors of her eyes, green and brown clashing, entwining like lovers. Beautiful. He sneaked through those windows and felt a blast of warmth embrace him like a freshly laundered blanket. She had a bright soul. A gorgeous soul.
But, there was a shadow there. A hurt. He wanted this one, but he'd have to be careful. He had no desire to unnerve the women he was with. He had always regarded women as gifts, creatures to be cherished and worshipped.
She shivered from the intrusion and he drew back. The angel watched her for a few minutes shuffling around, sipping her Cappuccino and flipping through the pages of the Tribune. Her motions were elegant, careful, practiced. She was a well-bred woman, her parents refined and well mannered.
She was dressed casually in a white dress shirt and a tight black skirt. Those yummy looking legs were encased in dark nylons, hugging them like a silk glove. How he wanted to run his hands up and down them...
He licked his lips and brought his wings close to his body. He parted his mouth, imagining he was about to take her nipple against his tongue. Instead, he said, “Hello.”