[Siren LoveXtreme Forever ManLove: Erotic Alternative Fantasy Ménage Romance, M/M/M/M/M/M, angels, HEA]
Just as Madigan Parker and his guardians believed that they had settled into a life of normalcy, complete with a wedding to plan and a new business, an unexpected visitor throws their happy life into chaos. War is coming to Urun, and the hunters are bent on destroying all sanctuary cities. The heavens are divided on the issue, and it will be up to Madigan to rally his fellow nephilim. Awakening his angelic powers is just the beginning of a life-altering race to get ready as hunters begin to gather at the outskirts of the city. With one week until the fighting is slated to start, Madigan must come to grips with his new powers, juggle his fearful lovers, and make a decision to stand up for what is right in a world that is against his very existence. Will he be able to overcome his fears in time to be a leader in the upcoming war?
NOTE! You are purchasing Siren's serialized imprint, the LoveXtreme Forever Series. This is Book 4 of the His Guardian Angels collection. These books are not stand-alone. Each is a continuation of the previous book and must be read in the numbered order. Each book may end on a cliffhanger but usually with a happy for now for the beta hero and one or more men. The final book contains a happily ever after for the beta hero and all his men.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Madigan took out his last batch of cookies and packaged them in a box with the logo of their shop Angel Treats emblazoned in gold letters against the white cardboard. His friends loved his baking, and he couldn’t wait to show off his new recipe. He and Dex had come up with it as Cross and Bren had planted cherry blossom trees out front and Michel and Yuri had put together the library so that they could meet with their archangels there. It was the only “office” big enough. The one that came with the house was now Madigan’s.
“Shop is packed up and lights are off, Madigan,” Cross said, popping his head into the kitchen. “Bren put the rest of the cake pieces in the freezer for tomorrow’s assembly.”
Madigan nodded and finished closing his box and put it in a grocery bag. “Michel said to tell you that he’s replenishing the supplies out of the stockroom.”
Cross waved a hand of acknowledgement. “Okay. I’ll finish closing out the register.” He should’ve legitimately done that first, but there wasn’t a real point in arguing. His men tended to be very stubborn when it came to being corrected about anything.
Madigan looked up and around his new kitchen, alone for the first time in a while. He smiled. It wasn’t like his men to let him have a minute to himself. They were getting slack in the city of sanctuary. An unfamiliar energy pulsed around him.
“You’re right to think that they are careless to leave you alone. If I were a rogue hunter, you would be dead,” a lyrical voice said from behind him. The tone seemed familiar, but Madigan was sure he’d never heard it before.
“If you were a rogue hunter, you couldn’t have poofed into my kitchen like a ghost.” He went to turn but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
“No. I’m in my true form. Your angels haven’t trained you to see properly. They have been remiss in their duties. I had hoped to be able to visit you by now.”
A knowing filled him. “You’re my father?”
A pause, a soft sigh. “Yes. You’ve met your Uncle Gabriel already. He’s an angel of death, more used to assuming his human form. I am less able to suppress my energy. I’m not even supposed to be here, but I had to. I had to warn you.”
Madigan’s chest tightened. His whole life he’d wanted to meet his real father and had been frustrated by his mother’s explanation of the man’s absence. No one believed that divine beings made children. That was only for stories. His twenty-eighth birthday had changed that belief, but despite seeing many angels, fallen angels, and other nephilim since, he’d never met the man who had contributed the other half of his DNA. The words that Raphael had spoken penetrated his awe.
“By our laws, I am forbidden to interfere, but I cannot sit by and watch this happen. If the seraphim cast me out for this, then I go gladly to a fallen state.” He didn’t seem to be talking to Madigan at that point, but the next sentence seemed to be addressing him. “Azrael has garnered enough approval from other angels to declare that sanctuary law only applies to fallen and the damned. Nephilim are now free game.”
Madigan’s heart skipped a beat. “How is that possible? Sanctuary states apply to all beings.”
“The Creator settles disputes that arise in the heavens. He has remained silent on this issue. Azrael is interpreting that silence as his approval. We interpret his silence to mean that we are to enact some deep change and that all voices, not just the angels, are to be heard. Azrael imagines that we are building an army to end the hunters’ tyranny, and he has declared that only the son of an archangel could lead that army. You are the only living son of an archangel, Madigan. They will be coming for you, and you will have to be prepared. They’ve created a self-fulfilling prophecy because you’re going to have to raise an army to do it.” Warm hands rested on his shoulders, and the energy coming off them tingled and made Madigan’s muscles jump. “I wouldn’t have chosen this for you.”
Madigan didn’t know what to say. An army? Him? He was a baker! Sickness roiled in his belly. “Is there a way for me to get out of it?”
“None that I can see.” Raphael paused. “I must go. I’ve been too long already. Tell your angel-bound lovers what I’ve told you, and be careful as you travel home today. I don’t know when Azrael will make his move.”
Then the presence at his back was gone, and the kitchen was just an empty kitchen once again. He breathed out. It figured that his peace would only last a handful of weeks.
Bren sucked Madigan’s thick cock, bobbing his head in a rhythm designed to deliver the maximum amount of pleasure to the nephilim and finish him off in no time flat. They were on their fifteen-minute break at the bakery while Cross manned the front of the shop. They shouldn’t take forever given that opening day was far more successful than any of them anticipated. There was a line out the block but the come-fuck-me smell the nephilim was throwing off for the past hour had already almost caused a brawl between a fallen angel and Michel.
“God! Bren!” Madigan gasped as Bren ran his tongue expertly along the underside of his dick. Bren reveled in the sounds of pleasure that his lover was making. Another hand wound in his hair as he continued his quest to give the fastest blow job in the world. The scent that surrounded him was familiar. Michel.
“He looks beautiful on his knees. Does it feel as good as it looks?” Michel rumbled.
“Hell yes!” Madigan groaned, tossing his red hair and hanging on for dear life. He really needed a haircut. Bren just continued to suck. Michel only added to the pleasure of his task. How did Madigan get sugar on his cock? It had probably been his earlier midmorning quickie with Yuri and Cross. The three-way had probably involved some of the confectionary sugar that had been stored in the office.
Michel continued to stroke Bren’s hair, sending shivers down his scalp and spine. “Bren, you’re making me horny.”
You’d get horny at a stiff breeze, Michel. The thought wasn’t far off. Ever since the five warriors had gotten mated to one extremely needy nephilim, their libidos had been insane. Then Michel started stroking downward, caressing the wings that were spread out like an ebony blanket behind him. Bren couldn’t help the moan that issued from his mouth at the contact. Angels’ wings were extremely sensitive and could produce orgasmic pleasure if rubbed correctly. Bren liked to compare it to a full-body blow job.
Madigan gasped and dug his fingers into Bren’s scalp. The sting wasn’t unpleasant. Michel knelt behind him and trailed one of his hands further down his back before it circled to his front to pull at the buttons of his pants.
“You know, I came to tell you two to hurry,” Michel muttered. “But…damn, how’s an angel supposed to say ‘no’ to two of his beautiful lovers in a position like this?”
Madigan chuckled. “More the merrier in this family.” It was a good philosophy. This was going to turn into more than a blow job at this rate. It suited Bren just fine. He was more than game.
Bren pulled off Madigan’s cock. “Michel, hurry up and fuck me. Stop talking it to death.”
“You’re so rude, Bren. Not to mention pushy.” Michel sounded amused by the fact. He finished pulling down Bren’s jeans. The warrior enjoyed harassing him. It went back to the natural tension that arose between the Archangel Michael’s angels and Lucifer’s brood. Bren thought it added to the spice of their relationship.
Michel produced slick from somewhere and began to prepare Bren’s hole while Bren concentrated on making Madigan orgasm before Michel managed to stretch him enough to fuck him. He would enjoy filling Madigan’s already stretched passage after he was sensitive from orgasm.
All thought fled as Michel pressed a thick finger to his ass, circling the hole before forging a path inside. Bren couldn’t resist the groan of need that escaped him at the act. He fingered him for endless moments, igniting the nerve endings and turning him into a quivering mass of lust. It wasn’t long before his hips started moving on their own accord, pushing back to meet the fingers that tormented him. It wasn’t enough, though. It was never enough anymore. His body was accustomed to being used hard by four other very well-endowed angels. Fingers just wouldn’t cut it.
“So hot,” Madigan said, his words a barely understandable gasp of sound. He didn’t realize it yet, but his hunger for them was getting worse. His angelic side was almost in full bloom, his powers growing and desiring more of life in every aspect. His training needed to start taking priority. There were so many distractions in their new life, though.
“Mind on me, Trouble,” Michel commanded, nipping at the tendon on his right wing. Bren gasped, his mind blanking at the action. “Trouble” was Michel’s new nickname for him ever since they’d begun planning their wedding thing. It wasn’t Bren’s fault he disliked everything that the rest of them agreed on. A third finger pushed inside him. Fuck! If Michel didn’t hurry up, Bren was going to blow his load and how embarrassing would that be?
Finally, Michel obliged him and pressed the thick head of his dick to Bren’s needy opening. Without preamble, the angel slid deep, and Bren sucked Madigan convulsively. God, that’s tight. No matter how many times he was taken by his lovers, he never quite got used to it. Wanting to be fucked was a double-edged sword. On one hand he needed more, but on the other, he was always surprised at their ability to fuck him stupid.
They rocked in unison, feeding off the lust of the other. Madigan was leaking pre-cum in a steady stream, the slightly sweet taste decorating the tip and Bren’s taste buds with every bob of his head. Give it to me, Madigan. Give me your pleasure, sweet nephilim. Michel pounded his ass, the flesh slapping together in a familiar symphony. It wouldn’t be long before he lost his damn mind, and he needed Madigan to lose it with him.
“Bren, your ass is like a vise,” Michel complimented, changing the angle of his thrusts so that it rubbed his pleasure spot with every lunge. “Bring him, Trouble.”