Angel's Feather (Flyer Chronicles, Book One)

by Alina Popescu

  I heard the growl rumbling through his chest as much as I felt it, committing it to memory along with the scent of male and soft vanilla, the cold brush of the air his wings pushed down, and the feeling of getting everything I’d ever dreamed of. I couldn’t tell for how long we kissed. It seemed forever and not enough at the same time. Unusual to say the least, as my brain normally refused to distort the realities around me. Not when it came to Michael though. With him, every cell of my body was focusing on tasting, touching, moving with him.

  He released my mouth, panting heavily and shivering. He peppered a burning trail of kisses from the corner of my mouth to my earlobe. He sucked it into his mouth and licked it, causing my entire body to shiver. Michael tightened his grip on me to keep me safe and whispered in my ear. “You were right from the start, Adam. It was arousal then. And it is burning need to have you right now.”

  I wanted to respond somehow, to acknowledge his words and tell him it was so much more than arousal or lust for me. Words conveniently escaped me, so I hid my face in the crook of his neck, relishing the closeness of the angel I’d loved since I was a sixteen-year-old boy about to become fatherless.

  Not long after our departure, Michael nudged me and told me to look at our destination. He pointed to an old building, half of it in ruins, the other still standing. It was built on the side of a mountain, on some sort of plateau overlooking the valley beneath. I imagined it allowed for glorious views back when it was still in use. Two large windows on one of the upper levels were brightly lit, and I could tell it was a room people used to live in.

  “What is it?” I asked, digging my fingers into his skin as we got closer and I saw the large bed in the middle of the room bathed in golden light.

  “It used to be a hotel, a very luxurious one, I’m told. The rich and famous used to come here.”

  I choked on my own saliva, remembering all the hotel rooms with rose petals I’d read about or seen in movies. This was a date, or something close to it. And Michael seemed to have big plans for it.

  He swerved and circled the building until he found a large enough opening. He landed with such grace, it made my breath hitch. I wobbled a little when he released me, and he steadied me, a playful smirk on his lips. I got all flustered and blushed furiously, turning away from him to hide it. Michael caught my hips before I could move too far. He pressed his body flush against mine and kissed the side of my neck.

  “You make my heart beat faster when you blush like that,” he said hoarsely, and I could feel him hardening. I leaned against him, reaching behind to grip his waist. “Walk, Adam. I think we should hurry to the room I’ve prepared.”

  Michael pushed me further without releasing me from the embrace, and we both stumbled along the dark, dusty hallway until we reached the one door with light peeking from under it. He pushed it open and I was greeted by the most beautiful sight.

  The hotel room had been cleaned spotless. The sheets, although a little tattered, were silk and neatly spread on the bed. The soft aroma of fresh wild flowers and aromatic oils surrounded me, letting me know just how much attention and effort he’d put into all of this.

  “When did you do all this?”

  Michael chuckled and turned me to face him. “I came here a few times this week. I wanted this all to be perfect for you,” he whispered, looking over my shoulder as if he were inspecting the room once more.

  “It is perfect, Michael. All I want is you, though. I hope you know that.”

  He nodded slowly. “I do, but focusing on getting this set up for us helped me sort through everything that’s happening. I don’t… We don’t… Flyers, we don’t feel attraction or arousal. This is all very new to me.”

  I pecked his lips, lingering a little longer than necessary. “I know, I’ve had plenty of time to get used to the idea of lusting after a flyer,” I said, trying to give my words a playful touch.

  “How long?” He titled his head, arching a perfect brow.

  I cringed, knowing I could never lie to him. “It will be ten years in a few months.”

  I saw the wheels in his head turning as he calculated when it had all started. His eyes widened and his lips started moving but failed to produce any sounds on the first few tries.

  “That can’t be!”

  I nodded, afraid to say anything else.

  “That was the first time you saw me.”

  I pushed away from him and walked further into the room, taking in every little detail.

  “Adam?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Something happened that first time I saw you.”

  “You were crying that day. I’d killed your father and you were crying silently. I thought you hated me.”

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. “I wasn’t crying for my father. I was crying for you. For everything you had to do because we wouldn’t learn.”

  Suddenly I was spun around. Michael claimed my mouth with such hunger and despair, my knees buckled. He caught me before I could fall, holding me in place as he explored every crevice of my mouth. He never broke the kiss as he walked me to the bed and gently set me down in the middle of the soft mattress.

  Every sensation flooded my senses, fighting for attention: the vision of his body crawling on top of mine, his tantalizing aroma wafting every time he moved, the feel of his skin and lips touching me, the way his wings slowly caressed my body. With a frustrated grunt, Michael ripped my shirt off, throwing the rags it had become on the floor. The sound of it tearing sent shivers down my spine and pushed all my blood south.

  “I need you naked, right now,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I’ll race you,” I said, chuckling softly. I had jeans that weren’t glued to my skin, I was convinced I’d beat him. He was a flyer though, he moved a lot faster than I did. He stood on the bed, gloriously naked, his hard cock jutting up, pointing right at me, his wings stirring every now and then. I swallowed loudly. Michael was taller than me, broader, sexy as sin. Yet somehow the fact his cock was proportional had escaped me. The length and girth terrified me.

  Michael took my dazed look as hesitation. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said in a barely audible voice.

  Not knowing how else to reassure him, I abandoned the task of getting my jeans past my ankles and pushed myself to my knees. I gripped his hips and pulled him closer to me, moistening my lips.

  “We’re going to do everything I’ve dreamed of. Repeatedly.” My voice was hoarse, dripping with need, and the realization made me blush again.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered and I looked up at him, trying to make sure he wasn’t just saying that. The way his eyes were eating me up told me he wasn’t trying to make me more confident, he was speaking his mind, as always.

  I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cockhead, taking a deep breath to fill up on his masculine scent. I rubbed my cheek against his length and Michael’s hiss made me even bolder. I licked his long shaft, getting it wet and tasting the few drops of pre-come dripping from his slit.

  Michael’s hands grabbed the sides of my head, but never forced me closer. He did not need to, my own hard dick twitched at the idea of tasting him properly. And taste him I did, bit by bit, fighting my gag reflex, till I felt his soft pubic hair tickling my nose. I ran my hands up his thighs and torso, feeling the smooth skin on his chest under my fingers. I moaned and started bobbing my head, sucking him as if he were the sweetest thing in the world. Too soon he stopped me and pushed me on the bed.

  Looming over me, he took off my socks and jeans and spread my legs wide open. He started at my toes and kissed every inch of my body until he was hovering over my lips, his cock sliding along mine. It was the most intense sensation I’d ever felt, having a hard, silky body cover mine. It felt so right, I could feel myself opening up, giving away my heart and soul to him. He reached to the side table and grabbed what looked like a small oil jar.

  “Adam, I technically know what I’m doing but
I’ve never actually had sex. Tell me if there’s anything you don’t like.” His eyes were searching mine for answers and I couldn’t help laughing. He froze on top of me, and my laughter died instantly.

  “Oh, no, no! I swear I am not laughing at you. It’s just that…” I looked away for a moment, summoning enough courage to face him. “I have no practical experience either. Did you not hear the part about wanting you ever since I found out what wanting someone meant?”

  He smiled widely and I saw that grin reflected in his eyes. “I don’t know why, but that makes me very happy.”

  Michael dipped his fingers in the jar, reached between my legs and massaged gently. I was rolling my hips, trying to get him to do more, but he refused. When he finally pushed a finger inside, I was writhing wildly, thinking I’d die if he didn’t give me more. His finger moving in and out of me stung, but I quickly got used to the sensation. The torture only lessened for a moment, soon enough I was desperate again and I felt that his stretching me took forever. By the time his slickened tip finally pushed against my entrance, I was clinging to him, begging and blabbering in what I believed to be a complete mess of unintelligible words.

  Sharp pain replaced the pleasure at the intrusion. He was big, it wasn’t just a scary sight, Michael was really pushing my body to the limit. I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing my head into the pillows. He wrapped his mouth around one of my over sensitized nipples and sucked and nibbled it until the pain subsided. I pushed down, taking more of him. He thrust slowly, giving me time to adjust and distracting me with arousing touches, yet it still was a challenge to accommodate him all the way.

  When he bottomed out, he groaned loudly. “You feel so good, Adam. So good.”

  I don’t know if it was the pleasure slowly replacing the pain or that naked need in his voice, but suddenly all I wanted was more of him, deep, fast, demanding. I released the sheets I’d been squeezing and pulled him fully on top of me, wanting to be crushed under him. He never put his entire weight into it, holding himself up just enough to keep me comfortable. Our mouths fused together and he started to move slowly. The more he moved, the better it all got. He was brushing against my prostate, sending sparkly pleasure through my body.

  I gasped, my lungs starved for air, his pants matching my breathlessness.

  “More, Michael, give me more,” I begged. He moved faster, in longer thrusts. Pleasure exploded through every nerve ending I possessed. I looked into his deep ocean eyes and got lost in them. As we moved together, getting more desperate with every penetration, something snapped. I did not know where I ended and he started. It felt like we were connected on every level, his brain and soul and body fused with mine. As sensations took me higher and higher, a flood of images invaded my mind. Knowledge, experiences, facts, numbers, schematics, legal stipulations from worlds I did not know of, they were all poured into me.

  I did not fully comprehend what was happening, but I guessed this was big, beyond my imagination big. Sooner than I wanted to, we were both shouting our climax. His hot seed filled me, dripping out of me as he kept pounding, mine staining both of our bellies. Through it all, our connection never faltered. Yet something inside of me told me he did not know. Michael was sharing his everything with me and he had no idea.

  For a moment, I felt alone in all of this, but then he collapsed on top of me, his weight bringing me back from the hazy exchange and the post-orgasmic bliss. He kissed my cheek softly, then pulled out. It stung when he slid out of me, and I immediately missed the connection. Michael rolled to his side and pulled me with him, cradling me in his arms. He kissed the top of my head and gently brushed the soaked hair out of my face.

  As he held me close, showing so much tenderness my heart ached, I realized I couldn’t have been alone in this. If I’d been the only one who had thought of our first night together as more than sex, he wouldn’t have opened up like that for me. Given enough time, Michael would come to the same conclusion. He felt a lot more for me than need and lust.

  THE FOLLOWING WEEKS were what I’d always define as Heaven on Earth. Michael and I were almost always together. He delegated everything he could and made sure he was never away from me for long. We’d spent countless nights in our hotel room, making love until we were both too sore and exhausted to do it again. We’d then sleep in each other’s arms and wake up to embrace a new day together.

  I was high on everything that happened to me, but not gone far enough to be oblivious to the whispers and the glares. A relationship between a human and the flyer leader was not something that could be hidden, not with Michael sticking so close to me. I did not care though, it was nothing new to me. They’d been gossiping about me since before my father’s execution. And although it stung to see more people shying away from me, a smile from the flyer I loved was worth all that and more.

  The biggest hit was the other flyers’ reaction. I’d expected my fellow humans to be appalled, angered, and against such a union, but I had somehow expected more from Michael’s kind. They were weary at best, and disapproving in the extreme at their worst. I knew they kept bringing it up to Michael, telling him it was not right, that it would lead to preferential treatment. I did my best to reassure him but at times I felt I was once more fighting a losing battle.

  As the weeks passed, it became harder to ward off his worries. I couldn’t say if the cause for his restlessness and fear was what the other flyers were saying, or his own fear of what was happening. Every time we made love, more of what he knew seeped into me. For a normal person, it wouldn’t have mattered, but for me… well, I tended to remember everything I’d seen. The information in Michael’s head was no different.

  It baffled me how he only sensed he was giving all of himself to me on a subconscious level. It puzzled me even more that his reaction was to flee. Yet I tried to show him there was nothing wrong about us being together, there was nothing I would have demanded of him, not for myself, not for my family. By the time morning came, he was pacified. Then in the evening we’d start all over again. I felt drained and powerless, yet I always found just enough energy to keep going. Anything and everything for Michael. That was the way it had always been for me.

  One night I found Michael waiting in front of my house when I returned from the garage. He felt far away, even when he was right next to me. Fear wrapped its hand around my heart. Something was extremely wrong.

  When he finally saw me, Michael hugged me tightly and wordlessly flew me to the hotel. We made our way to the room I considered our own, but it felt foreign this time. I knew it was the vibe I felt coming off Michael, but I was afraid to ask what was wrong.

  “We have to stop, Adam,” he said in an even voice.

  “What? Why?” I asked in a high-pitched tone, so unlike his steadiness.

  “The others… the flyers were right, I’d be forever biased if I insist on being with you like this.” He sat on the edge of the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and cradling his head.

  “Why would you say that? I’ve never asked you to do anything for me that breaks the rules.” I was beyond frustrated by this conversation. I was the flyers’ biggest supporter. I was the one loud voice preaching we should do as we’d been told. Why would the flyers worry so much about me?

  “I caught your uncle last night. He was helping an engineer start a rocket engine. I did nothing. I stayed in the shadows, making sure no one else would see them. Then I left.” He clenched his fists, staring angrily into nothingness.

  So that was where he had been. Why he hadn’t come to me. I sighed, hoping it would relieve some of my burden, but it didn’t.

  “Why would you do that, Michael? You know I don’t condone that. I would have never stood by my uncle in this. Nor would I speak against the flyers, ever.” I sounded tired and dejected even to my own ears. I was slowly losing patience and I knew that would not help.

  “I did it for you,” he whispered, still not looking at me.

  “I never asked you to,” I yelled, yanking h
is face to me. “I never wanted you to do that for him or me.”

  “What would the villagers say, Adam? How would they treat you if your lover killed your uncle and you stood by him while he did it?”

  “Not worse than when you killed my father.”

  “It would be worse and you know it,” he said harshly and stood up. “We’re never going to see each other again.”

  The determination in his voice hurt me more than his words. This couldn’t be, I couldn’t survive it, I knew.

  “Michael, no. I beg you! Kill me instead, it would be much easier than losing you.” I felt the tears burning my cheeks and brushed them furiously. Crying wouldn’t help, not now.

  He came back to sit next to me and cupped my face, smiling a little. “You can survive anything, Adam.”

  “Not this, I wouldn’t. Who I am would be forever gone.”

  “Adam…” He sighed and pulled me to him. I could feel his determination faltering and I clung to my small victory.

  “I wouldn’t, Michael. The Adam you’ve come to know would be gone without you.” It sounded pathetic, but it was true nonetheless. A connection like that could not be broken without consequences. I knew he’d never realized just how deeply we’d bonded. If he’d known, he’d never talk of ending it.

  He kissed me roughly until we were both breathless. It only escaladed from there into desperate love making, as if we were both trying to mark each other, claim what was ours. When we were done, we both bore bruises and bite marks. It had been more primal, rougher than it had ever been, but it had somehow calmed my soul.

  As we were lying in each other’s arms afterward, I noticed one of his feathers hung lamely from his wing.

  “Oh, no, your feather! Does it hurt?”

  Michael looked at his wing and then into my eyes. “I can heal it, or I can give it to you.”

  He had never given me anything, so having one of his feathers seemed to mean a lot. At least I chose to think it would. Still, I did not want to cause him pain.