by Poppet
“Sarah?” He says it like a lover's caress. Slow and measured, deep and comforting.
“Hmmm?”
“You've been lying here without moving for ten minutes.”
“No, I haven't.”
“Open your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Open them.”
I don't want to. I just want to lie here in this chamber of bliss. The whole world is suddenly so peaceful, and now he wants to ruin it.
“I want to look into your eyes when I say thank you.”
What for?
Oh god!
Wait! What the fucking hell?!
His heat comes back to surround me, a hard twitch arcs awareness inside my navel.
He whispers into my ear, “That was the best orgasm I've ever heard.”
Now my eyes are open! Wide open.
I'm back in the wing igloo, and he's glowing.
He laughs, kissing my neck, his body a hundred fathoms deep inside me, a lazy finger soothing my right nipple, breathing into my ear, “I've never heard you so loud or long. And I've been watching you for years and years.”
I don't know where the hell I went to, but I'm back now.
“Get off me!”
Chapter 16
Gliding himself out of my body, he braces on his arms, either side of my head.
“What is it?” he asks, breathing his sweet yummy breath at me.
“You're naked!”
“So are you.”
“How can you do that? Wait for someone to pass out and then help yourself?”
“You didn't pass out. You were fully lucid.”
“Crap!”
He's utterly magical with his skin glowing. Damn distracting, but not enough.
The wings part, folding them behind him as he sits back on his ankles. The black of his hair is so stark against his sunlight face. His glow is pure furnace gold. Just like a firefly, but not like Lucierne. Instead it sort of hovers barely on the surface of his skin, like moisturizer with gold sparkles in it.
“Wow,” he says, in a tone so cold, it gives me a shiver.
His beautiful face scowls into a legion of wrath, “I never thought you'd stoop that low.”
Sitting up, breathing in weird rasps, gripping my gaze far away from sheened muscles of the magnificent naked body on haunches between my legs, I'm not exactly sure what he means.
His voice is a rumble, so gruff it's not even human, “You know how to drive it in deep. Success.”
Leaping back, standing in one movement, he doesn't even rock when the wings flare out to loom over us, his eyes turning into two piercing suns.
“Get dressed, I'll take you home.”
He's out the living room faster than I can see. It's a blur of light smudging through the room.
The rodeo left without me. Somehow he ended up getting exactly what he wanted, and I don't remember. And my reaction did exactly what I was aiming for, but it's like rust in my mouth. Ugly, dry, sickening.
Half dazed, I crawl to the couch, finding my shirt, and crimson lace. Sliding underwear back onto shaking legs, my skin is covered with his residue. Touching it, rubbing my fingers together and examining my fingertips, I inspect the shimmer of his – sweat?
There's an awful hollow ache in my stomach, making me tearful. He left his shirt next to mine, and I pick it up, sniffing it. Looking on the inside, he's left powdery pearlesence on the fabric. It smells like him when he's being nice. He smells very different when he's angry.
How did this happen?
Shoving arms into sleeves, I get my shirt over my head, slumping back with total exhaustion.
He strides back in, running a hand through his shoulder length hair, that just a minute ago was hanging over my face, tenting us into privacy.
I'm strangely not ashamed to be here half naked. It should fill me with terror, but it's missing.
“What did you inject into me? Because I'm broken. I've got no energy and can barely dress myself. You made me black out, and it was peaceful.”
Looking away, I stretch my quaking arm out to reach my jeans, leaning heavily against the couch for support, hiding the hurt and confusion.
Arms hold mine down. He moves too fast. I'm so overwhelmed, a sob wells unexpectedly out of my chest.
With him straddling me, his chest right up in front of my nose, the fingers restraining me ease off, sliding down my arms to hold my hands.
“Look at me.”
Hanging my head lower, connecting my forehead with his body, I refuse.
“Sarah, look at me.”
“No.” It's a whiney wail.
Sliding back, over my legs, he dips his head to look into my face.
“Why are you crying?”
“I don't know.”
Taking his hand out of my right one and using an invincible finger, he forces my chin up.
“Look at me, meet my eyes.”
Closing mine tight, scalding tears press out, running to my chin. His breathing is all over me, downy and soft, warm and comforting.
With my eyes closed, without warning, hot lips brush mine, and I can feel them smiling.
“So you're not so vicious after all.”
There's a fissure widening inside me, and I'm falling into the chasm of misery.
Bands of muscle wrap around my shoulders, pulling me tight to him.
“Oh princess. You are so lost inside, and so afraid.”
“Stop being nice. Just go away.”
This close, his laugh is like a sonic boom against my ear. How does his chest contain that volume? Cradled, I'm still too weak to move, and this is really comforting.
Traitor, sneers in the back of my head.
“How did you do this? Please fix me. Please?”
Drawing away, his laughter gusts my hair.
“I didn't do this. Not the way you're thinking.”
“I feel like I've been lying in a sauna for a week. I've got no strength. No memory–” I cut myself short. I don't want to admit to being scared.
Releasing me, he sits back, and this time I meet his gaze. It's adoring and affectionate, and I wish I could muster the hate to slap it off his face. Standing, he reaches down, pulling me up to my feet, helping me to sit on the couch. Perching next to me, his body twisted to face mine, he puts a warm hand on my naked thigh.
“You don't want to believe me, but I'm going to say it again anyway. I gave you half my soul.”
He's just got jeans on now, and I can't help but stare. How could God make someone so beautiful, and so awful at the same time?
Flicking my eyes back up, I watch his mouth, listening to his serious tone.
“You feel weak, because what just happened was recognition. Unfortunately there is only one way I can 'fix' you, and that's to do it again. To give back to you what you just fused to me.”
“Nice try. I'm not doing it again. I might be a useless piece of twine right now, but I haven't lost my marbles.”
Considering me, his eyes fluctuate with the swirling thoughts going on in his head, flaring and dimming.
“I don't think you have any choice in the matter. You can't run, fight, claw, or scream, in the state you're in.”
“Is this how you treat all your dates? Invite them for coffee, inject your Rohypnol serum into them, and then toy with them until they hate you again?”
His smile is so indulgent, his lips such a dark shade of kissable, that I'm staring again.
“A date? You called this a date. Sarah...” He leans closer, his smile radiating happiness, “Is this a date, sweetheart?”
“No.”
“Well we both know what happened on your last date. How adorable and delicious you are when you play hard to get, and then slip up.”
“Can you stop being an unbearable arrogant prick for one moment?”
He slides his hand between my naked legs, running up them and resting his palm at the top.
“If I count to three, I can guarantee the result of your attraction will
be on my hand.”
“Stop it.”
“And if I do this...”
He slides a finger around the lace, lowering it with malicious intent.
“... You will be begging me to be inside you, inside of sixty seconds.”
“I no longer take bets with you, because I lose. Now be a gentleman or this is the last time you will ever see me.”
He reacts as if I slapped him.
Snatching his hand away, he folds his arms, studying me.
“I wish you knew how many times you've said that to me.”
Playing this by ear, I say, “You obviously don't learn your lessons from experience.”
“Sarah, I love you. This helplessness that's come over you, I never anticipated it. If I'd known, I would have done something to prevent it.”
“Yeah, right.”
His wings flare up for a brief second. His jaw is clenching, his bottom lip moving around like a sexy lust god, while he decides what to say next.
In a heartbeat, I'm back in the wing cave.
“How convenient, you come standard with your own portable prison cell.”
“You were all over me, and there isn't a power great enough in this universe that could have stopped me from connecting with my soul mate. The only way is body to body. Now you hate me for something you did. This time princess, I will do it back to you, and see how you like it when the roles are reversed. And when I'm done, you'll be your usual cobra self, but hopefully you'll keep the venom to yourself when you can strike back.”
“I grew up afraid of the dark. This is quite unpleasant.”
Leaning in, he runs both hands over my body, trespassing on private property, tugging my shirt back off. His shoulders begin glowing, and it stills my heart to see warmth emanating visually from his fingers.
“This only happens, when souls reach out to each other. Lift your hand.”
Mesmerized, I lift mine, blindsided with the sight of light reaching from my fingertips to his.
“Soul mates. What does that mean to you? It means the mating of two souls,” he says softly, his tone thick and deep; emotional.
He's my soulmate?
“Then why do I hate you?”
“You don't. You can't. I mean it when I say I love you. Can you see now why I keep an eye on you? If something happened to you, I would be left half a soul, forever.”
My chest is aching, tears are running, and I am humbled with shame. He holds my hand with his, and the light flares a lightning flash in the wing-igloo. Jolted, a wild ball of joy rattles through me, heating me from limb to limb.
“Now it's my turn, princess.”
Chapter 17
Snaking me off the couch, his wings span wide when I'm flat out on the thick carpet.
Half of me is trying to climb out my bones backwards. The other half is hypnotized by his glowing skin, and the way his muscles dance when he takes his jeans off.
There is a black mark on the top of each of his arms, but before I can touch them, he's leaning over me, skidding crimson lace back down my legs.
Spellbound, unable to look away, my gaze glides over vales and ridges of muscular perfection. Two V's meet, from narrow hips to wide shoulders; wide wings balancing it with their own inverted V from shoulder to knee.
Is he an angel? He glows with heaven's splendor; a carved body glimmering with a sheen so erotic, I want to lick him from neck to thigh.
Veins thread lace over muscles, highlighting the strength poised before me, breathing out sirocco gusts. It's havoc, lifting me out of stupor to meet his cosmic eyes.
Sparking darkness stares back at me.
Anticipation chases to my nipples; heartfire distilling my blood. Looking at him is like pouring moonshine in my eyes. He burns the back of my retinas with his unholy perfection.
Hooding over me, slowly; it's measured, deliberate. With each increment, his body flexes, distorting muscles so they strain out, undulating crescents and cusps of rigid magnificence.
Impulsive, I reach out, running hands over strength which is flaring like a mustang's nostrils in full gallop. His lats are wide, creating deep hollows from his waist to his armpits. Muscles wrap from arm to chest, meeting the next, running cross country, down to blocks raised to tempt a lusty gaze to the flat hollow framed with hard cords, to his groin.
Saints, have mercy on me.
Every hair on my body stands to attention when the thrumming over my skin starts. My spirit is restless, writhing within me, reaching up through pores, desperate to greet the music he weaves tight into my soul; knotting it so deep inside me, I'm bleeding out light through my hands.
It's the shiver of a sliding violin when the wings close, and his static mobs my skin.
Able to see clearly with the ambiance, I'm lost in my fascination of him; a bulging thigh pushes my knees wide. His bone structure is impeccable, giving him enslaving good looks.
His eyes now black, glistening with fairy-lights, like his glossy hair; raining inky strands forward, flopping like confetti over my face. His sexy mouth quirks into a rascal smile, widening with the parting of my legs. He's ruthlessly handsome. Any woman would stare to her death at a man so wild, sinful, glorious, divine.
My soul ignites when soft lips cover mine, he dips a tender tongue into my mouth, caressing me as if tasting manna. Pulling back, his eyes are hot metal, a furnace of silver and white lightning, quickening lust to coat a slippery kiss inside me; I'm on fire.
“Stay with me. You will remember this.”
His voice is deep, so low it vibrates right through me, a corrosive dissolving my mind.
With his lips so close to mine, I'm not sure if what I'm seeing is imagination, or reality. The sound in here is crystal smashing against starlight. A clashing so sweet and precious, I'm gasping into his mouth, pushing my curious fingers into down-soft hair, watching it slip like water through my fingertips.
His smile is a blessing on my sin, lashing cords of ecstasy into my veins, it's primal, and cruel. Running hair into my eyes, his mouth tattoos a brand, hot and pure, down my neck, lingering over my heart. The breath washing over me coats my skin with balmy waves, rippling to my spine, careening to my toes.
Arching, moaning, I press up. Skin to skin.
It's the sweetest suffering when his lips blowtorch my nipple, flicking electricity through me with every whip of his tongue, pulsing a fever into my carnal craving.
Lowering, leaning an elbow next to my head, he presses his cheek to mine, prickling pleasure into my temples, his breath carving a map through my body. My soul is dissipating under this sensory onslaught.
“Say my name,” purrs next to my earlobe.
“Erra.”
My voice is an echo, wrapping around and back, burrowing new veins through my body, pulsating bolts of desire up and down my legs, sparking into my sex, to the point I'm gasping, about to orgasm without him doing a thing.
Clamping my thighs around his hard body, it's like brushing up against angora. He finally lowers, tilting into my throbbing ache. I've never been so desperate for pressure in my life.
“Remember me, Sarah. This is why you were made. For me.”
A tide floods, slaying me into instant devotion when he presses a hand into my thigh, pulling my skin tauter than drum-skin, riding ecstasy up into my core with the touch.
Groaning euphoria, I'm sand scattering into the wind.
The hand next to my head grips into my hair, jolting my eyes open to witness his claiming of my soul. Asphyxiating, my heart thrashing a frenzy into his chest, the wings around us strobe like sheet lightning when he thrusts his body deep into me.
Firerain explodes up into my core; the sound of screeching twisting metal connecting with the wildest thunder ricochets like bombs off the wing-dome, deafening me.
His roar in my ear fills my head up with a hurricane, booming us into mach 3.
It's the suicide of self, an exorcism of misery, when he coasts in and out, the friction sending aura-lightning crashing t
hrough us. It pours gasoline into the fire racing through me.
“I'm taking you home. You will never leave me again.”
It's everywhere, scarring my skin, burning through me like acid rain, pouring my soul into his, melting my will, my mind, my thoughts, wracking me with orgasm after eternal orgasm. Like thunder rolling through clouds, my body arches and spams over and over, my voice hoarse, pelting prayers of mercy into his iron will.
I can no longer feel my body; I'm molten. Brilliance blinds me. It's all I can see. Floating, drifting, I'm KO'd into everywhere. Just a cosmic pulse, twinkling in a world of bright lights, lost in a cosmos of suns.
“Say my name,” filters through the white fog.
“Erra.”
My voice, it's like a ghost twisting through a gap in the mist.
“Say it.”
This is holy, sanctified; pure ecstasy hopscotches somewhere deep inside my body. The body I can't really feel, but it's there, drowning in this ocean of light.
“I'm yours,” whimpers from my hollow throat.
The fourth of july pales against the bursts and sprays of light. His reaction to my proclamation. My surrender.
The light wanes, and I'm drifting into my bones. It's rapturous.
Aura rainbow swirls wheels around me, sinking through my skin, settling into my body.
My breath is pumping out, making me giddy.
Instant blackout occurs, and I feel stoned.
The wings open, and Erra lifts his head to look into my eyes.
I feel as if I've soldered to his body, our hips no longer discernible.
Swallowing, I get a mouthful of desert honey.
Leaning half off me, his hand rests on my throat. Staring up into his flickering eyes, I'm speechless.
I've been consecrated with liquid fire.
Air wafts over my skin, and I'm finally aware there is a raging storm outside, lashing rain into the windows like a battalion of Gatling guns.
Closing his eyes, the wings retract. Reopening them, he runs an affectionate caress over my hair.
“You are beautiful.”
It's soft, like a whisper from another universe. Saturated with so much emotion, it pulses and resonates inside me.
