by Mel Telshco
He put a hand over Loretta’s. She paused then released him. Cray gritted his teeth while his fingers twitched. The urge to press her hand back around his cock robbed him of all rational thought. But regaining a little composure, he at last made a move to climb to his feet.
“No.” Her open hand rested against his heart and she pressed him back. “Don’t,” she said huskily. “Please, don’t change.”
“I’m a gargoyle, you cannot want—”
“You’re wrong. I most definitely do.” She reached up, the pads of her fingers tracing a path over his shoulders, down his spine a little, then partway along the rib of his upper wings. “I want you—all of you—just exactly as you are.” Her gaze shone. “You’re incredible.”
He reeled within, the last of his defenses crumbling into ashes. She touched him in places that weren’t all on the outside. But it was bittersweet and made all the more poignant knowing their time together couldn’t possibly last.
He subsided against the bench seat, swallowing hard. He’d take whatever pleasure and joy Loretta offered, remember the ecstasy long after his curse forced them apart and ground the shattered pieces of his heart into dust.
Like a graceful wraith she slipped off the seat and went onto her knees between his thighs. She looked up, and his heart flip-flopped at her open expression, her gloriously beautiful face.
“I want to pleasure you,” she all but purred. “I want to taste your cum.”
He growled with delight as she bent and drew the head of his cock into her mouth, her scarlet-painted lips sealing him in. His hips thrust forward, emitting another guttural groan as her tongue scraped a moist circle around the slitted apex. Then, as though his dick were some delicious Popsicle she couldn’t get enough of, couldn’t devour quickly enough, she sucked it into her heart-shaped mouth almost to the base. Her tongue flicked along the thick vein behind his shaft and he closed his eyes with a savagely indrawn breath. Heat built inside him like a pressure boiler ready to explode and he knew he had only seconds before he did exactly that. “Stop!”
The cool night air replaced the satin heat of her mouth and he gulped in another lungful of oxygen, forcing his eyes open to see her sitting back on her haunches, her stare fever bright.
He held out his hands and she clasped them, allowing him to pull her up and into his arms. Pushing to his feet he carried her with long strides away from the lamp’s glaring arc of light and into the privacy of the shadows.
He knew she’d see little more than the glow of his eyes, his dark silhouette. She’d understand that this dim intimacy wasn’t just to shield him and their lovemaking from anyone who might chance upon them—the night cloaked his grotesque physical abnormalities from her too.
A breeze stirred her hair, carrying with it her sweet, flowery scent. She leaned forward, holding his face and murmuring, “Next time we make love, I want to see you. See all of you…my gargoyle lover.”
He nodded, his heart jolting once, twice in his chest. Would there even be a next time?
Her lips were petal-soft beneath his as they kissed again, and he savored the peaches and cream taste, basked in the warmth of her silken skin, her sighs.
He drew his head back and she stood motionless, more than a little breathless as one by one, he freed the pearl buttons at the bodice of her designer dress. When she raised her arms, he pulled it up past her shoulders and over her head.
It slithered, unnoticed, from his grasp to somewhere at their feet. He drank his fill of her. In barely there black lace panties, sheer stockings and transparent bra, he knew in all his years he’d never known a woman as sexy, as hot, and as unashamedly passionate as his Loretta.
With deliberate slowness, she bent down and started to draw off her stilettos.
“No, leave them on.”
She stilled at his request. Straightening, she reached behind to unclip her bra. “Allow me,” she said, her voice as thick and rich as liqueur over ice.
Her bra dropped onto the ground and when she stepped out of her panties Cray was only vaguely aware of the blast of a car horn in the distance, the faint snatches of music and laughter from a party in full swing.
With a ragged groan he moved forward. His hands spanned her waist and, as he carefully lowered her onto the ground, his wings snapped wide then curled around her in a makeshift blanket.
His cock twitched, impossibly harder as her legs fell open with invitation, her glistening cunt wet just for him.
He moved over her slowly, relishing every inch of her silken skin—her thighs, her taut belly, the round globes of her breasts with their nipples puckering against his chest. Resting his weight on one extended forearm, he palmed the mound of her pussy, opened her secret folds and dipped one finger deep inside.
She moaned and squirmed underneath him, her thighs opening wider still when he pressed deeper inside, his thumb rolling the nub of her clit.
Her back arched and he felt her pussy tighten. God, she was so wet, so slick, already on the precipice of orgasm. It was almost enough to send him over the edge as well.
Her eyes became heavy-lidded, glazed with lust and something much more intimate. She bared her body for him, made him hard and eager. But it was the unveiling of her soul, her feelings laid out for him like a sacrificial lamb, that thickened his cock with desire and made his heart thump with anguish.
Sweet mother of mercy! He looked like a monster—was he acting like one too?
In one abrupt motion he jolted to his feet, his wings bringing her right along with him. And as the curves of her delicious body stamped along his, he had to force himself not to touch her all over. Not yet.
“Is being with me, fucking me—a gargoyle—really what you want?” he growled.
Her brow creased. “Yes. Of course. Why would you even need to ask?”
“You put your trust in me. That’s an honor I cannot abuse twice.” His knuckles cracked as his hands fisted at his sides. Shit. He was screwing this up. Big time. He really had to work on his deep-and-meaningfuls.
Her face paled. Her eyes shimmered. When his wings slapped open to release her and she stumbled backward, it was pure reflex for him to reach out, keeping her steady until she regained her balance.
She shook her head. “Don’t let go. Not now.” She took a step toward him and her jutting nipples swiped his chest with every agitated breath. “Don’t you ever let me go again!”
She raised her chin, awaiting his response. Except all speech seemed to have dispersed somewhere inside his throat as a flood of emotion caught him unawares, inundating his senses and filling his heart with unattainable longing.
“Cray!”
He refocused on the fiery, passionate woman before him. God, he adored her. “You know I can’t promise you that.”
She heaved a breath but didn’t retreat. Quite the contrary. “Just…fuck me. Please.”
He felt the corners of his mouth lift. Hot damn, she was sexy. And so very proud, wearing nothing more than her high heels. She tilted her hips with deliberate provocation and his dick jolted at the sensation of her belly scraping the head.
He placed a hand at one side of her temple, strands of her soft hair slipping between his fingers as she leaned into his clasp. Even now, she was so trusting, so warm. His other hand slipped down the length of her spine, cupping the rounded curves of her ass. “I’d love to.”
Never would he have thought he’d say the word “love” in quite this context. Still, he wasn’t about to complain.
She wound her hands around his neck and their mouths came together, their lips meshing, tasting, their tongues entwining. He kept right on kissing as he moved forward, pressing her back until the glass panel of the pool fence forced them to a halt.
She pulled her mouth from his and grinned up at him, shamelessly aroused. “Mmm…caught between a cock and a hard place. I like it.”
Grasping her ass cheeks, he hoisted her higher. She yelped then sighed a little before wrapping her legs around his hips, the slit
of her pussy skimming the tip of his cock. He rotated his pelvis, his cock fondling her tender cunt, nudging the entrance.
He watched her stare turn dazed then she closed her eyes for just a second or two, as if fighting for control.
He understood only too well. Their emotional journey had manifested into a profound, physical need that was unstoppable. Inevitable. He’d been crazy to think he could put a halt to their cravings. Crazy to think they could exist side by side without touching, kissing, fucking, ever again.
Inch by slow inch, he allowed her body to slide down over his, the points of her nipples drawing invisible lines over his skin, his rib cage.
His mouth dried. His temple throbbed simultaneously with his cock, which oozed pre-cum as Loretta’s curves slithered over his body. When she gained her stilettoed feet he demanded thickly, “Turn around.”
She did so without protest and he pressed a knee between her thighs. She gasped and spread her legs wide, clutching the rim of the fence.
From behind, he nuzzled her throat as one hand cupped her mound. Deft fingers teased the outer lips with its tight, dark curls before he peeled her pussy wide. Pressing kisses along her neck, he strummed her clit, feeling her tense and shift, undulating against his touch.
“You’re about to come,” he said huskily. “But not yet. I want to show you how to fly.”
He lifted her until her buttocks rested low on his stomach. She let out a startled gasp, keeping hold of the pool fence for support.
A fresh wave of heat fired straight through his cock at the press of her white, rounded ass cheeks, the sight of her perfect breasts suspended so very close. He nuzzled her gold-brown hair that flowed like silk along her spine, breathing in the delicate scent of apples and something elusive.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
Her spine unlocked, her body loosening. “Yes.”
He leaned close, licking the shell of her ear before gently nipping the lobe. She moaned then hissed with pleasure as he drove his tongue into her ear. He drew back, his breath fanning her hair. “I won’t let you go.”
He couldn’t promise her a future. But he could promise her this.
His wings unfurled and arced to the front in a semicircle. In one fluid movement he elevated her higher again. She released her grip on the fence as he placed her thighs over his shoulders, her arms draped along his wings.
In this position she really was dangling over a precipice, face first and high in the air, floating, flying. And soon, climaxing.
“Tell me what you see.” He needn’t tell her of the vista she provided. He had only to crook his neck a little to see her wet pussy with its vee of tight curls.
Her voice shook. “I see infinite darkness, pitch-black night with city lights far below, like sparklers.”
“What do you feel?”
She let out a shuddery laugh, her voice strained. “I feel exhilarated, aroused, yet scared I’ll fall into the abyss. I feel as if I’m caught right on the edge, between adrenaline and wild orgasm.”
He shifted her position slightly, aligning her pussy to his mouth. He scented her musk, but wanted even more to taste it. He licked her exposed pink flesh in one long sweep of his tongue. “And now, what do you feel?”
She didn’t—couldn’t—answer for a moment. Her breasts rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath. “I’m…I’m not sure.” She shifted, giving his tongue better access. “I think I need an encore,” she said breathlessly.
With his wings and shoulders balancing her weight, his hands were free to open her wide as he licked and sucked, focusing on her clit like it was the only thing that mattered.
“Cray!” Her cry of ecstasy was pure, unadulterated abandonment as she abruptly convulsed and he had to grit his teeth against the bolt of lust filling his balls.
She was trembling with aftershocks when he unlatched her thighs from his shoulders. As his wings folded behind his spine, his hands snared hold of her waist and tugged her against him.
She writhed, clearly hot for more. She leaned forward, grasping the fence until her breasts compressed against the glass and his cock strained at the entrance of her damp slit.
She turned her head, her eyes flashing heat. “I need you inside me.”
With her sweet cunt kissing the head of his cock, he was in no position to deny her. Couldn’t hold back a guttural groan as he thrust forward, his cock plunging deep inside.
Her breath expelled on a gasp. But it was too late now to worry about his gargoyle size.
The tendons in his neck strained. His pulse hammered at the sheer, overwhelming bliss of making love with this woman with the incredibly heightened sensitivity of a gargoyle.
His cock throbbed and through clenched teeth he half sobbed out a breath, his hands bunching into fists as he resisted coming hard and hot inside her. Her inner muscles gloved him, almost undoing him. But somehow he held back as he stroked harder and faster, the slap of flesh hitting flesh almost drowning out Loretta’s mewls of delight.
She came hard. Her muscles squeezed his cock, pulling and sucking. As she sobbed out his name like a benediction, he returned the favor, bellowing her name into the night air as he too surrendered to rapture, his seed erupting inside her, filling her, marking her as his. In a haze, he felt her shudder once more, heard her awed and breathless “Wow” as another orgasm took her by surprise.
“Wow indeed,” he agreed hoarsely.
She shifted awkwardly, and he reluctantly let her go. His cock slid free as she slipped to the ground. He followed her and gathered her close then flipped them around so that she lay on top of him. His outspread wings tucked her close and warm, and she sighed, happy and replete, before winding her legs around him as if she’d never let go.
As gargoyle, Cray heard the sudden snap of a twig a nanosecond before Lincoln’s enraged voice jerked them apart.
“Get the hell away from my daughter.”
Cray captured Loretta’s hand, drawing her up beside him and shielding her with a wing as he stood and faced her father. Without his wheelchair, Lincoln advanced with jerky steps, which Cray suspected had little to do with old age and everything to do with wrath.
“You broke our pact,” Lincoln snarled at him. Leaning against the pool gate, his breathing heavy, he burst out, “And you failed to protect my daughter. You’re not fit for the role of guardian.”
Loretta gasped. “Daddy! You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Lincoln turned on his daughter and even in the shadows Cray made out the sheen on the elderly man’s face, the ugly redness of anger and grief.
“My word, I do, you silly chit!” His eyes blazed. “You could have had Max but instead you drove him mad with your loose morals.” He coughed fitfully then drew another ragged breath. “Just weeks ago he asked permission to seek your hand in marriage.”
Tension hummed from Loretta like a force field as she faced down her father. “I’m guessing you said yes?”
“Of course. I was—”
“Relieved?” she finished for him.
Lincoln slumped, hacking out another cough. “Bah. You are out of control. Your reputation tattered.” He lifted his head slowly, as if it were too heavy for his shoulders. “Frankly, I was surprised he would do you the honor.”
Cray’s blood ran lava hot. But when Loretta choked out a sob, instant freeze avalanched down his spine. He drew Loretta close, indifferent to her father’s withering stare that took in every inch of his gargoyle nakedness. “I’d marry her in a heartbeat, if I could.”
Loretta went quiet but he was aware of her galloping pulse, her shuddering breaths. Just as he perceived her dad’s all-enveloping rage.
“Of course you would, you monster. You knew Max loved her but you wanted her all for yourself and got rid of the only man who wanted her for more than just her too-willing body.”
Loretta’s arm snaked around Cray’s waist, her body leaning into his as if soaking up its strength. “The only monster I’m seeing, Da
ddy, is you.” She looked up at Cray, her moist stare beseeching as she said softly, “Get me out of here.”
They turned toward the cliff face but paused as Lincoln roared, “Retta. Don’t you dare leave with him.”
She didn’t turn around, her spine steely straight as she said, “I can’t bear to stay.”
“Then you leave me no choice,” Lincoln said hoarsely.
Cray half turned and watched as her dad lurched inside the gate, the old man’s attention once again focused solely on him.
“I release you, gargoyle. Release you from your guardian role.”
Loretta stumbled. “No! No…no…no!”
Cray reached out and steadied her. But his breath hissed at the sudden, heavy weight inside his chest, his belly that twisted with grief. “I’m sorry, Loretta. So very, very sorry,” he whispered.
He dropped his hold and stepped away, a little piece of him dying just then at her sob of denial, at the way her splayed arms covered her nudity. But restlessness already tugged at his awareness, a compulsion impossible to ignore.
His wings unfurled, fluttering in preparation for flight. With fierce resolve he stilled them, arcing the leathery tip of one low before sliding it like a wisp of satin beneath her chin.
Fire burned in her stare, and he knew then she would not for a moment accept this fate. He smiled but he felt no joy. Had he been human, had circumstances been different, he’d have made this amazing woman his wife.
“Goodbye, my darling,” he said thickly. “I’ll never forget you.”
Tears trekked freely down her face. “I’ll see you again. Soon,” she whispered.
He pivoted away, his eyes stinging, his spirit numb. He wished he could stay even just a little longer. Wished he could voice the three little words scalding his throat.
But wishes weren’t for the likes of him.
He lunged into a sprint toward the cliff, almost oblivious to the wetness spilling down his cheeks. He leapt over the glass fencing and into the abyss on the other side. Freefalling, he gave into the gut-wrenching howl of anguish he could no longer contain.
