He clasped her hand and kissed it once, then sat back. Releasing her hand, he rose to his full height. On her bed of clouds, the angel rolled to her side to see Samael before her, his arms out as if in supplication. In a wink his emerald toga was gone. Naked, he was smooth perfection: strongly muscled and long of form, a work of masculine beauty. A smattering of dark hair curled along his broad chest, thinning as it stretched down his torso, and thickening again just above his legs. His erection proved he was aroused.
She was fascinated by his shape, by his strength—by him. He was one of the most powerful creatures in the Universe, once beloved by the Almighty; he was a king without a kingdom, an archangel banished from the Light of Heaven. He was the Angel of Death. He was wondrous to behold. And he carried the pain of bitter loneliness in his eyes.
The angel wanted to make his sorrow fade. She wanted him to feel the intense pleasure that he had given her. She sat up and paused, remembering her own hesitation. “May I touch you?”
“Angel,” Samael said with a rueful chuckle, “it was I who asked for your permission. You do not need my approval to do to me what you wish.”
With a smile, she reached for him, touched him, and was thrilled to feel the power within him as she ran her hand up his calf and up higher. She trailed her fingers up to the juncture of his muscular thighs, then back down, then up his other leg, slowing as she approached his sex. She traced the outline of his scrotum and was startled by his sudden intake of breath.
“Am I hurting you?” she asked, concern furrowing her brow.
“No, Angel,” he said gruffly. “By Heaven, no. You are not hurting me. Your touch…” He shuddered, said, “Your touch is magical.”
Ah. Well then. Pleased by his response, she tickled him with her fingertips and then slowly moved up his shaft. He closed his eyes and let out a sound that was part moan and part hiss—an animal sound, one that made her core hum with desire. She enjoyed teasing him, enjoyed stirring such feelings inside of him.
Enjoyed the feeling of him in her hand.
She closed her hand around his length and moved back down, then up once again. His shaft grew even harder, longer from her attentive strokes. She could still feel his tongue lapping at her, heating her as he had burrowed between her legs. The memory alone was enough to flush her anew with desire.
She wanted him to feel that way, to lose himself in her touch. So she leaned over to kiss him.
The moment her lips pressed against the tip of his erection, Samael let out a ragged cry. She placed small kisses tenderly on him, flicked her tongue over him, licked him. Savored him.
His breath was coming in rough pants, and now his hands gripped her shoulders. “Angel,” he said, his voice rough, “you are driving me mad.”
Yes.
She kissed his tip once more, then moved up to his torso, dotting his skin with her mouth. With one hand she stroked his shaft, more firmly now, and with her other hand she cupped his bottom, squeezing. Up she moved, kissing the outline of his ribs, kissing his chest, taking first one hard nipple between her lips and then the other, sucking lightly.
“Driving me mad,” he said again and then his words gave way to a groan.
Yes.
Her fingers played along his body, with one hand on his sex and the other moving over his back, his bottom, the backs of his thighs. Up she moved, kissing his chest, his throat, the underside of his jaw. Her hands flowed, and he swayed in her embrace. Her mouth worked along his ear, and he shivered.
“Angel,” he rasped, “sweetest Angel, I will go insane if I cannot join with you.”
She nibbled his lobe and was rewarded by his gasp of pleasure. “Please join with me,” she whispered in his ear. “Love me, Samael.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth, hard. She returned the kiss just as passionately, hungry for him, wanting him to be inside of her. Wanting to complete him, and for him to complete her. Wanting to feel bliss not just because of him, but with him.
Wanting him—Samael, Angel of Death, Lucifer. Whatever he was, whichever name he took, she wanted him.
She released his shaft to hook her arms around his broad shoulders. His erection pressed against her belly, and whether it was from his closeness or from his kisses or both, she felt her own arousal building within her, tingling over her nipples, her sex, priming her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and closed her eyes, losing herself in their kiss, in the feeling of him around her.
The feeling of him in her.
It was a nudge at first—the tip of his erection nuzzling between her legs, whispering over that most sensitive spot. That addictive tension that heralded bliss coiled inside her, and she rocked against him, moving him over her. The nudge strengthened into a push as he probed her and then dipped inside.
Oh!
It was gentle, almost hesitant, and he pulled back out to slide against her once more, stroking her, stroking her, tightening the coil of tension. And then he was back inside her, deeper now, coaxing her to open for him. Back out again to rub over that spot, to press against it, heating her until she thought she would burst into flame.
And then he slid inside her once more, further now, sinking into her. This time he stayed buried in her, felt her as she climaxed around him. Still he remained within her, bringing her to orgasm yet again as he moved with her—together, bodies pumping, fingers pressed against each other’s backs, their mouths sealed in the deepest kiss. Samael bucked, and with a victorious shout, he, too, found rapture.
The wind kicked up, rippling the angel’s hair.
Behind the gates of Paradise, the sounds of celestial joy buffeted the Sky.
The sun bathed them in its light, as if to set their love to spotlight.
The angel sensed these things, and yet they did not matter. All there was to the universe was Samael and Angel—their heat, their breath, their passion. They flew across the sky, limbs intertwined, and they loved each other.
Eventually they slowed, and then came to rest. Still outside the gates of Heaven, they lay on their bed of clouds, both smiling lazily, in sleepy satisfaction, his fingers tracing small circles on her belly, her hand stroking his cheek.
For the first time in a long, long while, the angel was happy. As she nuzzled against him, she told him so.
“As am I, beautiful Angel,” Samael murmured, wrapping his strong arms around her. “This was just a stolen moment, but it has given us both such pleasure. This is what it means to live, Angel. We can choose sorrow. We can choose pain. And we can choose bliss.”
Still smiling, she settled into his arms. “We are blessed.”
He let out a huge laugh, a belly laugh, a sound like summer thunder—powerful, natural, with a hint of menace along its edges. “Oh, cherub. That we are. Banished and yet blessed.”
The angel laughed, and Samael did, too, and the sounds wove together like a lover’s knot. On their bed of clouds, they laughed, and they enjoyed each other’s presence, and for a time they were both content.
Behind its intricate gates, Heaven loomed. And though she was still banished from the Light, the angel found she did not ache for the joys of Paradise.
That ache had been soothed by one who had intimately understood her loneliness.
When the time eventually came for them to take their leave, they both dressed, silently and quickly, casting long glances at each other, their mouths turned up in knowing smiles. There was an ease between them, one that suggested they had known each other’s company for decades rather than hours. He kissed her hand, and she stroked his cheek fondly; if she was still awed by his power, she no longer let that frighten her. Whatever else Samael was—Lucifer, former ruler of Hell, now the Angel of Death—he was her lover, just as she was his, and he had reminded her that life itself could be its own paradise.
“Thank you,” she said, “for showing me bliss.”
He kissed her again, lushly, his lips pressing against her knuckles, his tongue flicking over her skin. �
�And thank you, lovely Angel, for sharing rapture with me.”
She allowed her smile to pull into a grin. “I would be happy to share such rapture with you again.”
That made him smile wickedly. For a moment, his eyes flashed amber—his power, flitting to the surface before he called it back. When his eyes glowed, it was easy to see that he had been the King of the Underworld for thousands upon thousands of years. When he spoke, his tone was suggestive, and altogether enticing. “Some would say that seeking such pleasure is a sin.”
Before their time together, such a comment would have made her feel ashamed. But now it merely emboldened her. “Well then,” she replied, “it is proper that I am bound to Hell.”
Samael laughed, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Cherub, you make me wish I were still Below.” He kissed her brow, and she felt his lips press against her, tingling.
“So come with me,” she said. “Be with me there.”
“Ah.” His eyes shone with the memory of their shared bliss, and yet there was a darkness that glimmered as well. Samael looked at her, bittersweet. “I am both cast out of Heaven and equally banished from Hell.” He smiled again, wryly now. “Though I suppose that should have been expected. ‘He that is discontented in one place will seldom be content in another’.”
She did not recognize the quote, nor did she allow it to distract her. She knew what she wanted now, and she meant to have it. To have him. “Surely, even one as powerful as you has a place of rest,” she said. “Where does the Angel of Death go when he is not doing the work of the Almighty?”
“I am limited to Limbo,” he replied, “to those places between the spheres. I cannot set foot in Heaven or Hell, and I cannot trod upon the soil of Earth.”
She twined her fingers around his. “Then I shall visit you in Limbo.”
Samael regarded her. Emotions danced behind his eyes, played along his face, and yet as he considered her words, he remained silent.
“You have shown me much,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You have eased my loneliness. You have given me such pleasure that it nearly eclipses the joy I’d found in Heaven. I would not be lonely again, Samael. And neither should you.”
“You would visit me?” he asked slowly. “You would seek me out? Willingly return to me?”
The angel realized that even the most powerful of creatures could have their moments of insecurity.
“Samael,” she said, her voice musical, turning his name into a song or, perhaps, a prayer. With a smile, she released his hand as she summoned her wings. Free, the angel hovered above him, her arms wide, encompassing, beseeching. “As long as I may fly, I would seek you out, whether here at the very gates of Paradise, or Below at the foot of Hell, or anywhere in between. If you would have me, I would be yours.”
The smile that bloomed on his face would have put the most brilliant flower to shame.
“And I would be yours, Angel,” he replied. “For as long as I may fly.”
Was this lust, that sin to which she had been assigned? Was this love, that virtue she had aspired to all her time in the Light?
It didn’t matter. It was whatever it was, and she was grateful for it.
She was grateful for him—Samael, Lucifer, Satan, whichever name he chose.
He took to the air, and when he was level with the top of Heaven’s gates, he turned to face her. Radiant, he opened his arms wide.
Flying high, the angel reached up to him.
Together, they soared.
About the Author
Jackie Kessler writes about demons, angels, superheroes, the supervillians who pound those superheroes into pudding, and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. For more about Jackie, visit her websites:
http://www.jackiekessler.com
http://www.jackiemorsekessler.com
http://www.jetandiridium.com
Also by the Author
Hell on Earth
Hell’s Belles (book 1), Kensington/Zebra Books
The Road to Hell (book 2), Kensington/Zebra Books
“A Hell of a Time” (in Eternal Lover), Kensington
Hotter Than Hell (book 3), Kensington/Zebra Books
“When Hell Comes Calling” (in Lilith Unbound), Popcorn Press
“Hell Is Where the Heart Is” (in A Red Hot Valentine’s Day), Avon Red
“Hell Bound” (in Those Who Fight Monsters), Edge SF (fall 2010)
Hell to Pay (book 4), TBA
The Icarus Project (with Caitlin Kittredge)
Black and White (book 1), Ballantine/Spectra
Shades of Gray* (book 2), Ballantine/Spectra (June 2010)
* Shades of Night, UK edition
Young Adult Books (as Jackie Morse Kessler)
Hunger (book 1), Harcourt/Graphia (August 2010)
Rage (book 2), Harcourt/Graphia (spring 2011)
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright
Foreword
Hell’s Angel
About the Author
Also by the Author
Hell's Angel Page 3
