by Jorja Tabu
“Cam,” Delilah pleaded, digging into his back, “please--”
“--So polite,” he murmured, pulling himself all the way out of her and supporting himself on his arms to look into her eyes.
“I want to, I want you to, I want...” Delilah’s chest rose and fell as he allowed the head of his cock to tease her with short, shallow thrusts, and she gasped and buckled under him, her body begging for more.
“What do you want?” He allowed himself to sink in slightly further; under the practiced calm in his voice there was a desperate hunger. He raised himself up further to get a better look at the woman quivering under his touch and sucked in an appreciative breath.
“I want it harder,” Delilah cried out.
“Like this?” He stroked in further, biting his lip, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
“More,” she pleaded, and then moaned as he moved deeper inside of her.
“More,” he repeated, and she hitched her legs higher around his waist, forcing him further inside. He gasped, attempting to retreat and tease her again, but she was firm, her legs strong and insistent. “More,” he growled, and sank rapidly inside. He began to pound into her, his body arcing in and out of Delilah as she felt the tide finally coming in, her orgasm sweeping from her furthest nerves into a bundle of explosive wonder in the center of her body and back again. Feeling her reach the pinnacle, the angel joined her, pulling her tightly to himself and tasting her lips again.
The pair relaxed into the bed simultaneously, the angel hesitating before slipping off of Delilah and lying beside her, watching the expressions fluttering across her face. “Do you want to go back?” He lay still, his chest not even moving for air, as the waves continued to roll in. “Do you want to never know, to never have seen your power?”
“It would’ve been nice to find out on my own.” Delilah blinked, startled by a tear swimming up somewhere in her left eye. She felt ridiculous. Mercy wondered if they’d ever explain what the hell was really going on. “I didn’t want to find out because I got scared, of all things. I... I’m not sure I’ve ever been scared before.”
“I would be a wealthy man if I could bet on it,” the angel murmured, still silently watching her. His golden skin had a rosy glow in the firelight, and his eyes stealthily swept over Delilah until he finally reached out and rested his palm on her belly. “I don’t think fear is in your repetoire, darling.”
“You don’t need wealth, anyway,” Delilah said slowly, turning her head to face him. His touch was comforting although, for some reason, she hadn’t expected it to be. “Do you.” It wasn’t a question.
“I have all I need,” he said with a gentle smile. “And certainly now I am wealthy beyond measure.”
“Why now?”
“I have these moments, with you.” He met her eyes. “You can go back, if you wish--you can make yourself forget. You can unmake time, if you choose. But you cannot change me. I am what I am, and I have lived this memory, and it will stay with me always.”
“Always?” The girl shivered. “As in forever?”
“Yes,” he whispered, and then leaned in to kiss her forehead. When he settled back in he was a bit closer, his breath tickling her cheek. She realized he was breathing deliberately, to set her at ease, and the strange kindness of it brought another tear to the surface of her eye.
“I can’t go back,” she said, and rolled towards him; his hand slid over her hip and he nestled in close to her, face to face. “I’m not a coward. Not even close. And that would be the ultimate in cowardice.”
“Sometimes fear is useful, darling,” he told her, and kissed her forehead again, his fingertips straying to the edges of her tangled hair and brushing back the wandering strands. “Sometimes fear is an indicator of survival. If you feel threatened by this...” He let the words slip away, but his handsome face flashed with an almost imperceptible look of disappointment.
“I do. But I’m not going back,” the girl said. Mercy wasn’t sure if she’d understood his expression; Delilah was swirling with so many emotions she wasn’t looking outward, right now. But the angel was enamored, and Mercy could see in his heart that he had never felt this way before. And that something, deep and dark, was twisting inside of him--something that wanted the girl to go back. To save her, by erasing himself.
But his heart wouldn’t let him spill these ghosts; his face was still, once again, and Mercy was exiled from the workings within and once again trapped inside the anxious body of the girl he had accidentally fallen in love with, in spite of himself. There was no denying it. He’d fallen so sharply that Mercy felt it through the fog of this other body, this other being--he was in so deep a part of him screamed it.
It was beginning to break the spell.
Mercy felt herself retreating from them; she saw the girl on the bed for the first time, her beautiful face sharpened by grief and confusion. She saw the angel pull himself closer to her for the third time, saw the awkwardness of it as he continued to do this new thing--to love. He tentatively reached out and stroked her cheek as Mercy watched. She flew back, rushing higher and faster into the atmosphere, stars mingling with the bonfire and the emerald eyes and the glittering ocean blazing into one vast movement, one singular blur, until there she was, laying on the floor of her office.
“Mercy? Oh my god, Mercy! Wake up! MERCY!”
Her cousins were both kneeling over her, the angel’s haughty, handsome face looming as he stood behind the trio, speaking into a cell phone. “Oh, wow,” Mercy murmured, rubbing the heel of her hand on her forehead and letting her eyes focus. “That was nuts. Even for me.”
“Are you alright? What happened?” Ruthie narrowed her eyes and came closer. “Did this guy like, do something? To you?”
“Nice,” Charity muttered, eyeing him over her shoulder. “Way to not freak her out, Ruth.”
“He’s an angel, not a guy,” Mercy said, sitting up. Ruthie protectively clutched her sleeve until Charity blew out an abrupt sigh and pulled Mercy upright; Mercy blinked at the angel and he offered one of his perfect hands to her, eyebrow raised. “Although you didn’t do anything too angelic, that’s for sure,” Mercy said to him, wondering if he’d given her a vision, or if the entire episode was just a dream.
“I don’t have the slightest idea what you might mean,” he said, and flashed his exquisite smile. Ruthie sucked in a breath, Mercy worried she might faint again, and even Charity was momentarily silenced. “I merely listened to your threats of falling in love with this perfect stranger,” he nodded towards the photo on the desk, “and then you were quite indisposed. But only for three minutes.” He glanced at his watch as Mercy settled back into her chair. “Well. Two minutes and forty seven seconds. Your attendants are most attentive.”
“I had a very interesting dream.” Mercy sat quietly for a moment, wondering what to do. She knew he was going to fall in love with this girl, and she also knew he was part of something... Dark. And that he wouldn’t be able to help loving Delilah, and that would break his heart and place the object of his affection in great danger. She sat, silent, as the other three began to grow nervous.
“You alright, Mercedes?” Charity’s soft, serious tone rattled her back to the moment.
Mercy made up her mind. “Yes,” she said firmly, and looked up at the angel. “I’m sorry this happened during your appointment. My gift is a bit unpredictable at times and it looks like my wires got crossed. There’s a lot of romantic energy residing in this office, and...” She made herself look as apologetic as possible and briefly wondered if he could read minds. Better not to dwell. “I’m sorry. I have no idea how you can find this girl, or why you thought I might be able to. In fact, I can’t help at all, I’m sorry.” She handed him a flyer for her next Magical Match-Making Convention. “Full refund. And you can come to this for free. The food will be great, and I doubt you’ll be lonely for even two minutes and forty seven seconds.” Mercy aimed for a wide, convincing smile, but he only kinked his eyeb
row and smirked.
“You’re sure, Miss Lucibella?” He eyed the flyer and then studied her face. “Quite sure you can’t find her?”
“That’s not the way I work,” Mercy said.
“I know my approach is different but I was told by a reliable source that she was... Destined to be with me. In a manner of speaking.” He watched her closely. “A very reliable source, Miss Lucibella. Second, in fact, only to you.” The office grew silent; a clock in the hall ticked the seconds by as everyone stood perfectly still.
“I don’t know how you can find her,” Mercy said, and a bit of steel peeked through her friendly tone. “And I don’t know if you should.”
He nodded once, winked, and was out the door.
“What just happened?” Charity eyed Mercy as she slumped into her chair and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“Hopefully nothing,” she answered, and wiped her brow. With any luck, she’d just prevented a sudden storm somewhere over a white beach, the disruption of a quiet country house, and a demonically broken heart. And who knows what else. “Hopefully.”
