[Siren LoveXtreme Forever ManLove Collection: Erotic Romance, Alternative, Fantasy, Menage, Angels, MMMMMM, HEA]
In Angel Bound, Madigan has a successful career as co-owner of a bakery and has never really been passionate about much else. His mother has always claimed that he was the son of the Archangel Raphael, but he'd never had reason to believe her. That is, until Madigan finds himself hunted by angelic fanatics who see him as an abomination.
His father has assigned him guardian angels to act as his protection from the hunters. The five men desperately search for a solution for Madigan's protection and find only one viable option. Madigan must become Angel Bound, married in angelic terms, to all of his guardian angels. Now Madigan has gone from having no relationships to having five simultaneously. All of the men will have to learn to balance desire and duty in order to ensure Madigan's safety and happiness above all things.
In Angelic Ties, Madigan Parker thought accepting a relationship with his five guardian angels was difficult. He's learning that being in a relationship with all of them is more difficult as personalities clash. Bren still distrusts Cross, Yuri believes he's the odd man out, and Michel is just too nice to put his foot down with any of them. While Dex is the only one admitting to the mutual affection and attraction that is growing between them, Madigan has his hands full.
He wants to take back his life and reopen his business. But being a baker proves difficult as old enemies circle closer, and keeping his lovers safe proves to be a lot trickier than Madigan originally thought. Torn between the life he had and the new life awaiting him, he has to decide if staying in the town he calls home is worth the risk to his men and to his heart.
NOTE! You are purchasing Siren's serialized imprint, the LoveXtreme Forever Series. This is Book 2 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.
Jana Downs is a Siren-exclusive author.
“Angels officially suck ass!” he screamed as they backed him into the corner of living room. What had he done? What had he possibly done to piss God off so much? They circled closer, their swords at the ready.
The one with the indigo wings spoke. “Nephilim, child of sin, we hereby dispatch you unto hell. Where you belong.” The words were spat. There was such venom behind those sentences that the terror Madigan was feeling was raised exponentially by their uttering. He closed his eyes and prepared to die.
The living-room windows shattered inward. The sound of breaking glass and the softly spoken curses of the maniacs wielding the flames made Madigan’s eyes snap back open. He whimpered in utter terror as yet more angels poured into the room.
The indigo asshole hissed like a cat as he caught sight of the other angels. “How dare you interfere!”
A six-foot-something, red-haired man with bulging biceps stepped to the front of the pack so that the others flanked him in a vee formation. Despite the danger all around him, Madigan all but drooled at the gorgeous display. It would really suck if he was also here to kill him. “Sorry to bust your bubble, Azrael. We cannot allow this travesty to take place.” Oh, thank God. Someone was on his side.
Gorgeous brown eyes lit on him. “Madigan, come to me.” Anywhere. Anytime. The thought crossed Madigan’s mind before he could edit it out. Where had that come from? Those deep-coffee irises flared with recognition. Could angels read thoughts?
“Hurry up!” another angel to the redhead’s right snapped. His hair was pitch black, and his eyes were just as dark. He also had a lip ring. Lip ring? Really? “Move it!” The growl in the other man’s voice was intriguing.
The redhead cursed violently. “He’s angelstruck. Grab him, Dex!” Without warning, someone grabbed him roughly from behind. Indigo and his buddies lunged, but he was suddenly no longer there.
He yelped, his head spinning in disorientation. He was surrounded by the smell of man. He blinked and found himself in the middle of the new angels. He looked over his shoulder and met the eyes of the scariest man he’d ever seen. He was as big as all the others, but an aura of “other” clung to him so hard that Madigan had no doubt that he could rip out someone’s soul without missing a beat.
“Uh…” He tried for speech. Failed. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I–I–What?” he managed.
The black-haired one addressed the redhead. He seemed to be the leader. “You need to take him to safeplace.”
“Yes,” the redhead agreed and took Madigan’s hand. He pulled him out of the scary angel’s arms. “Relax, Madigan. We have you.”
That was all fine and dandy, but who the hell was “we”? The angel scooped him up like a bride and headed toward the window. Madigan looked up into the redhead’s face in awe as the sounds of clashing weaponry screamed behind them. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils. Then the angel climbed up on the broken windowsill, cradling Madigan with one hand, and leapt out into the night. As the wind whipped around them, Madigan slid into blissful unconsciousness.
* * * *
It was damp when Madigan awoke. He shivered. The baker tried to rouse himself from his stupor. What a crappy birthday. The nightmare had been a bitch, and now the rain had saturated the air in his apartment. He probably left a window open or something.
“Wake, young one,” a severely masculine voice interjected in his internal dialogue. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay on the cave floor, son of Raphael. Wake.” It was then he noticed that the ground beneath his cheek was not the familiar, fluffy comfort of his pillow. He was a notorious slave to creature comforts. He forced his gritty eyes open. Gray mud and rock was under his cheek.
“Oh shit,” he muttered. “That wasn’t a dream. Some asshole with indigo wings really busted into my place.” He struggled to sit up, but he was stiff. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain. “How long have I been here, Red?”
The redhead frowned. “My name is Cross. Not Red. You have been here roughly four hours.” He knelt beside Madigan’s prone body and dug into a backpack that was located there. Madigan tensed for a second. The angel gave him a curious look and pulled out a bottle of Aquafina water. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Madigan took a grateful swig from the bottle. “Thanks.”
“It is not a problem. We’re supposed to be taking care of you.” The angel—God, he couldn’t believe that Red was a frigging angel. The angel stood and walked to the other side of the cave wall and leaned against it.
“Who is ‘we,’ and why are you supposed to be taking care of me? Furthermore, who the hell were those guys? And why are they after me?” Fifty questions sprang to Madigan’s mind and poured from his mouth in rapid succession.
Red displayed a crooked grin that made Madigan’s heart lurch unexpectedly. “You are a curious creature, son of Raphael.”
Madigan’s mouth hung open. “He’s really my father?”
The angel frowned. “Of course he is. Who do you think sent us to you?”
“I thought Mom was making it up,” he muttered, half to himself. “So he sent you to save me from those”—he paused—“demons?”
That crooked smile returned. “Actually, they were angels. A special sect of angels ordained at the time of Sodom and Gomorrah to hunt down those nephilim who turned from the path of light and wreaked havoc on the mortal world.”
“I am so not wreaking havoc. I’m not even dating!” he protested.
“Their angelic purpose was perverted by their leaders long ago. Now they hunt all nephilim that come of age.” Madigan rolled to his knees, wincing at the bruises that were there. He must’ve banged himself up trying to get the hell out of the way last night. “At twenty-eight, nephilim reach their sexual maturity and are able to breed. The choirs who follow the hunt think that humans shouldn’t have any angelic energy in them. They see it as a perversion. Nephilim also start to emit an angelic aura, which acts like a beacon to the choirs that hunt them. Your father knew this, and so he acted in the only way he could. He petitioned each of the archangels to donate a guardian for your protection until you finish the transition from youth to adult. Once you’ve come into your powers, you may petition your father for official protection which he can take to the Metatron to forbid the hunters from seeking you out.”
“I’m going through angelic puberty?” Madigan asked stupidly. Great. Like regular human puberty hadn’t been bad enough.
Bren pressed soft kisses to the nape of Madigan’s neck, licking the sensitive skin before delivering little bites on the wet flesh. It was Madigan’s turn to shiver. It felt good to have his men against him. The dark-haired angel’s hands ran down his sides to cup the tight globes of his buttocks, separating them slightly. Cross came closer so that they were pressed snugly against one another. Madigan’s hands crept up his shoulders as the big angel deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing in feverish delight.
“Hmmm, that’s hot.” Bren’s words made Madigan moan into the warm recesses of Cross’s mouth. Then something warm and wet pressed against Madigan’s tight rosette. He jumped. Bren’s chuckle made some of the tension go out of his limbs. “Easy, baby. Just warming you up.” His voice sounded lower than it had a second ago, and Madigan couldn’t resist a peek over his shoulder. Bren’s mouth was hovering over Madigan’s spread cheeks. He met his eyes and leaned forward, giving Madigan’s unoccupied entrance a deep lap of his tongue.
“Holy shit!” he squeaked. No one had ever done that to him before. It felt good, a little odd, but good. Bren did it again, deepening the kiss that he was giving Madigan’s tight ring. The nephilim panted.
Cross’s hand wrapped around his swollen cock from in front of him as if drawing his attention back to him. The dual sensations made Madigan’s eyes roll as they started a rhythm. Bren gave teasing licks of his tongue in a slow, steady pace, loosening his backside while Cross pulled and twisted the head of his dick in a way that let Madigan get right to the edge but never let him fall off of it. Two fingers slid into his tight sheath, wiggling around until they scored the tiny knot of pleasure inside him.
He was whimpering in need. His instincts clamored at him that he needed to be fucked and fucked hard. Fucked by all of them. His eyes went to the other men, his other men. Yuri was deep throating Michel’s hard cock while Dex pounded into him behind. All of their eyes were on Madigan and the two men he was in between. He shuddered. Hell yes. He couldn’t wait for more.
“Bren,” he groaned. “I don’t want to wait anymore.” The fingers almost immediately withdrew, and the pop of the lid for the lubrication followed. Good. He needed to be filled like the sun needed to rise and set every day. It was necessary for his sanity. The sound of Dex’s flesh slapping against Michel’s while Yuri slurped him like an ice-cream cone was more than Madigan’s sexually starved body could handle. He tore his eyes away to look down at Cross’s hand as it pumped up and down his shaft. His mouth started to water.
“Hm, will you let me suck you, Cross?” he asked huskily. He knew he had to look as desperate as he felt. He was practically thrumming with desire.
“Oh please!” Michel cried out at Madigan’s words. “Want to see that mouth wrapped around you, Cross. Want it bad.” Dex growled and bit his shoulder, which only made Michel groan more enthusiastically. The way he started to rock forward harder told Madigan that Dex was liking the image and the idea as well.
“Yes.” Cross’s growl was unexpected and possessive. It seemed like once he made his mind up about something there was no further hesitation. That was good because Madigan was dying for a taste.
He bent from the waist, and Cross spread his legs to get a firmer stance. Without preamble, he took Cross to the back of his throat, groaning at the taste of sweat, salt, and man that accompanied the action. Secretly, he’d always loved to suck dick. His enthusiasm in the past had entertained more than one college boyfriend. But none of them mattered now. They all paled in comparison to the incredible men now in his bed.
He knew his position brought him down on all fours, offering up his backside like a twink in a shady bathroom-hookup spot, but he didn’t care.
Bren’s lubed fingers probed his hole for a second before he replaced them with the thick, spongy head of his cock. Madigan trembled, sucking on Cross’s cockhead in an effort to keep from screaming his victory to the heavens.
“God! So friggin’ tight, bright eyes,” Bren groaned through gritted teeth. He pushed forward slowly, but he was still big enough and it had been long enough for Madigan that the nephilim cried out in part pain and pleasure.
“Slowly, Bren,” Cross commanded, beginning shallow thrusts of his own into Madigan’s willing mouth. “You’ll hurt him.”
“I’m going as slow as I know how!” Bren snarled above him. He gave a cruel stroke into Madigan’s tight ass. The nephilim whimpered around Cross’s cock.
“Not slow enough!” Cross snapped back. He was so overprotective.
Madigan drew off his length with an audible pop. “Shut the fuck up, Cross. Bren feels so good. Concentrate on giving me your pleasure. Stop worrying so much.” Cross looked down at him with a kind and equally lusty expression.
“Just want to make sure you’re okay.” He said the words a little sheepishly. Bren began to pump his hips in earnest now, and Madigan was having a hard time concentrating on the conversation. He wanted Cross just as desperate as the rest of them were.
“I’ll be okay if you fuck my mouth until you come down my throat.” The naughty words darkened Cross’s expression. Yes.
Madigan glared up at the two men who circled above him like hawks twelve feet up in the air. The analogy was apt because they were angels after all.
“Give me back my book!” Madigan shouted as they tossed his paperback back and forth between them. It was the most ridiculous version of monkey in the middle Madigan had ever been subjected to. When the angels had wandered outside to test the barrier, Madigan had tagged along with his book in hand in hopes of returning to it when they’d finished. So much for that.
Bren swooped low, his black wings tucked against his body as he dove and offered up the novel to Madigan’s outstretched fingers, only to snatch it back and toss it to Michel when Madigan’s fingertips grazed the spine.
“Argh!” Madigan yelled in frustration. They’d been playing this game in the front yard for almost half an hour now. He was freezing. It was a ridiculously cold October. He wrapped his Harry Potter yellow-and-maroon scarf more tightly around his neck and crossed his arms. It was hard to believe only a few weeks ago, the week of his birthday, that he’d been wearing a T-shirt outside and worrying about rain. That was before the weather had turned cold and the threat of death had confined Madigan to his mother’s house until his five guardian angels could come up with a solution to protect him against his enemies. They had found a rather unconventional solution to the problem, one that required Madigan to essentially marry all five of them for a temporary cease-fire. They were all still getting used to the idea.
It was the first day they’d ventured outside in almost two weeks. Cross and Yuri had been working on creating a barrier between the yard of Madigan’s mother’s house and the rest of the neighborhood. It wasn’t to keep the hunters, those angels which hunted nephilim like Madigan, out. It was to keep the neighbors from seeing angels flying in and out of the house. None of the angels could drive, and Madigan hadn’t been able to since they wouldn’t let him leave the house without all of them in tow. His car wasn’t big enough to fit five massive warrior angels plus himself.
“Bren, Michel, knock it off.” Cross’s stern voice was a welcome interruption. Madigan glanced up in time to see his red-haired lover walk down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Their eyes met. “The barrier seems to be holding. No one is standing and pointing.”
“I’m more worried about one of them dropping my book in a puddle,” Madigan griped. The two angels above him landed softly on the grass a few feet from where Madigan and Cross were talking.
Michel’s aqua-colored eyes shone with mischief. “Sorry, cutey.” He tossed the book across the space that separated them, and Madigan nearly dropped the book himself when he caught it.
He glared at the angels. “You guys suck.”
“Only when asked nicely,” Bren quipped, not missing a beat. His black eyes focused on Madigan, and the nephilim felt the heat of it down to his toes.
He pressed a kiss to the curve of Bren’s neck, and his tongue came out to caress the muscle there. “Mmm, you taste heavenly, Bren.”
“Thanks, Cross,” the other angel gasped. “I have a surprise for you.” Cross’s hands slid down and massaged the tight sac he found there, rolling the tight globes between his strong palms.
“Oh yeah,” Bren murmured, his hips arching up against the touch. “It’s a pretty big surprise.” He and Dex shared a secret smile, and Cross raised his eyebrow. Now that was interesting. Bren was usually so distant from everyone. The fact that he actually had a secret to share with Dex made Cross warm. He was finally reaching out to them.
“Ready, Bren?” Dex asked as Madigan cried out his release and soaked Michel’s chest with his seed. Cross turned Bren and claimed his mouth in a kiss. He was fastly becoming addicted to the taste of Lucifer’s angel.
Dex pulled him from Cross’s grasp with a laugh. “You can have him back when I’m done.”
“Done?” Madigan asked, grinning wryly. He was reclined against Michel’s side now, bracketed in by Yuri, whom he was jerking off with almost lazy precision. Bren fell forward onto his elbows, his ass perched toward Dex. Madigan’s hand paused on Yuri’s body. “Aw, Bren.” He sounded breathless. His nephilim libido was insatiable.
“Want to watch, bright eyes?” Bren seemed so vulnerable in that moment. His black eyes were two twin flicks of midnight. They met Cross’s for an instant. Heat was also in those depths. Black flames that burned everlasting, much like Hell’s fields in the under realm.
“I love you,” Cross said without thinking. Bren’s eyes widened, and naked fear flooded them an instant before that bright, giddy heat was back.
“I kinda like you, too, asshole,” Bren murmured. But he was smiling. Cross watched as Dex’s thick fingers started preparing Bren for his cock. The combination of agony and ecstasy that was evident on his face made Cross hot as hell. He wanted to be part of this moment, this taking of Bren.
“You want in Dex while he does Bren?” Madigan asked. Cross nodded as Dex’s fingers pressed deep, scoring something inside Bren that made him cry out in part pleasure, part pain. The big angel turned his head and nodded, sweat beading at his temples and running down his face. His muscles were trembling. He wanted Bren fiercely. Anyone could see that.
Two fingers pierced Bren when Cross moved behind Dex, effectively cutting off his visual of Bren being penetrated. He hoped Dex was using enough lube. His concern was probably unfounded, but it was there nonetheless. He worried about all of them. The more he cared, the deeper the worry.
“Get me ready, Cross,” Dex said gruffly. The hoarseness in his voice was incredibly sexy. The red-haired angel ran a reverent hand down Dex’s thick backside. Pounding into Dex was so fucking good. Cross had never considered himself to be into polygamous relationships, but he’d been proven wrong time and time again since joining these men. Two weeks with them was better than all his years in Heaven. His fingers spread him and circled Dex’s entrance. Michel managed to extricate himself from his comfortable position and circle behind to offer Cross a tube of lube. He pressed a kiss to Cross’s cheek and gave him a wink.
“God, that’s hot,” Madigan murmured. Raphael’s son was the reason for all of this. He was their center, their sun. Cross loved him all the harder for it.
He pushed his fingers slowly into Dex’s tight pucker, coaxing the muscle to loosen to allow him entry. He wiggled his fingers around, making sure to stroke all the nerve endings there to life, paying special attention to the knot of pleasure located just inside. The gasp from the big angel had him growling. The urge to fuck Dex was strong, but the urge to protect him from harm was stronger.
Cross forced himself to prepare Dex properly even as the moans that were beginning to grow in volume from Bren were intensifying and turning his mind to mush.
Dex turned his head and growled over his shoulder. “I’m not fucking porcelain, Cross. Fuck me already.” Madigan’s giggle was muffled but still clearly laughter. “Bren’s ready,” Dex added, pushing forward slightly. Cross reached down and massaged Dex’s sac as he pushed inside Bren. The strangled groan gave him intense satisfaction.
Once he knew that Dex was fully seated and Bren was mewling for more, Cross speared Dex’s sweet ass with his cock. It was fast, probably too fast, but he was really turned on at this point and didn’t think he could take much more. He stilled once he was all the way inside him, knowing that Bren was having to adjust to a lot just then.
“God, that’s hot,” Madigan repeated from somewhere in front of him. Cross imagined that they provided quite the visual.
Yuri’s chuckle answered his repeated declaration. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Madigan.” A happy little noise filled the air along with the sound of licking. Oh God, Cross wished he could see what was going on. His eyes slid shut, and he just concentrated on breathing and listening to his lovers as they all voiced their pleasure in the little moans, grunts, and groans that Cross was becoming accustomed to hearing when they were all in bed with one another. How had he ever stood just one lover at a time? The aural stimulation alone from all of them was pure paradise.