by Alisa Woods
She cupped both hands to his cheeks. “Show me,” she commanded.
His eyelids fell to half-mast again, and his hand strummed pleasure into her. She cried out and arched against him. He was barely touching her—holy God! Just grazing her entrance, and she was quivering and clawing at him. “More,” she gasped. “More, please, don’t stop.”
A rumbling sounded through his chest. His fingers slid in through the insane wetness in her pants—they were still on!—and then inside her. “Holy fucking fuck!” she gasped, bucking against him, her head thrown back, hands clawing at anything and everything—him, the bedspread, her own clothes to tear them from her body, only that was so vastly, vastly less important than the quivering madness going on between her legs. Tension built, sudden and sharp, and then she was coming and coming and coming…
Finally, it passed, and she slumped back into the bed. A haze filled her mind… and her vision. She’d opened her eyes—a shimmer in the air and Razael’s grin floated above her.
Her clothes were still on. His hand was back to resting on her belly bump. He’d barely touched her, and the orgasm was mind-blowing.
“How did you do that?” she gasped. Her hands found their way to his shoulders again, then she slid them up to wriggle her fingers into his long hair.
“Magic,” he said with a smirk. Then he leaned down and lightly kissed her on the lips. “And Love.”
Her hands tugged on his cheeks. “I’ll take another one of those, please.”
He smiled and bent to kiss her more thoroughly. Soft and sweet, like the afterglow buzzing her body, his tongue played lightly with hers, dipping deep then pulling back, his lips nipping at hers.
When he pulled back, she was breathless. There was no magic in that kiss—none except the gentle love it spoke to her. “No,” she said, fighting for air. “I mean another one of those.” She flicked a gaze further south down her body.
His grin grew wicked, and he slid his hand as if to slip inside her pants again, but she caught it. “This time, with your mouth.”
The instant heat on his face, the way he suddenly carefully controlled his expression—yes! She knew he was holding back. Maybe he thought he could get away with just giving her a few orgasms with his touch. But Eden wanted all of him—and that would take even more coaxing, apparently.
But he didn’t protest, didn’t even hesitate—just licked his lips and slid down, bringing the soft, stretchy knit of her pants down with him. He slipped them all the way down her legs, caressing them as he went, then he came back for her panties. This time, he kissed her belly and her thighs and her calves on the way down. By the time he came back, she was already on fire again, but then he set his mouth against her sex.
Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck. She bucked against his face and tried to hold him to her, but he had this gentle-but-firm grip on her locked down already. Her legs draped across his back, her ankles digging in, he lavished pleasure on her like he had an infinite well of it and his tongue was dipped fresh. She made incoherent noises after that, her mind swamped with pleasure, her entire body boiled down to that one achingly glorious contact point between his tongue and her flesh, stroking and moving and giving such paroxysms of pleasure, she was losing her mind. Finally, her body couldn’t hold the tension anymore, and it raced to a peak, cresting and cresting and crashing and crashing as she thrashed on the bed under his hold.
She might have screamed when she came.
She could barely breathe.
The aftershocks of pleasure kept jolting her like little electric bolts straight to her sex. Her body was limp yet strangely energized like every cell had been given new life straight from the source. She hummed with pleasure like that was an actual sound buzzing through her body.
“Oh my God, Razael,” she breathed, still blinking at the ceiling.
He dislodged from between her legs, carefully moving up her body until his face hovered over hers. “I am not your god, Eden, but in Truth, I would worship at the altar of your body any day.”
Another aftershock of pleasure rippled through her with those words. And she was truly wiped out with that otherworldly orgasm he just gave her. But that wasn’t enough. She wanted everything.
She touched his cheek with her fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Oh, yes.” And his smile convinced her.
She let her hand drift down his neck, splaying on his chest. “I want to worship you like that.”
His eyes flashed, but his face clouded. A storm of emotion crossed it.
She trailed her hand down his body. “I want to give you that pleasure—”
“No,” he said hoarsely, pulling away from her touch.
But she grabbed onto him and went with him, rolling half up on the bed. His cock was erect—and huge—and tenting out his toga.
“You want me,” she said with a glance at it.
“I want you too much,” he countered, his hand pushing down on his erection to hide it. Or maybe wish it away. She couldn’t be sure.
She laid her hand on his—the one on his cock. She could feel it still rigid beneath. She stared into his eyes. “I need all of you,” she insisted. But it wasn’t for her—did he know this? Could he see it in her soul? She needed this because he needed it.
His face twisted in anguish. “I can’t—”
She lifted her hands to grab his shoulders—one on each—and then climbed over his hand protecting his cock from any possible contact with her and straddled him. Her dripping, humming sex was now positioned above his cock, still being blocked by his own hand.
If only he moved it…
She cupped his cheeks. “Fear not, my sweet angel. And show me your Love. Give me a memory to hold onto—a connection of my body and the one I love—to shove aside the past and make it forgotten.”
His anguish dissipated. “I am helpless before you. You must know this.”
“I know that I want you inside me,” she whispered, leaning forward to brush a kiss on his lips. “Right now.”
A shudder went through him, but she could tell the moment he decided—a fire ignited in his eyes, and suddenly, there was a pure and carnal Lust that rippled a pleasureful shock-and-awe through her. Then he lifted her and laid her back on the bed once more.
In an instant, his toga had disappeared.
Then he tore her shirt from her body—literally ripping it to shreds. Her bra went next with a snap, spilling out her pregnancy-swollen breasts, exposing them to the air and his hungry gaze.
Then he slid into her all at once—his enormous cock filling her suddenly and completely—and she lurched up, grasping hold of him and crying out.
Yes. She pulled him to her and never wanted to let go.
Chapter Seventeen
The craze of Lust was upon him.
Razael stilled, fully inside Eden, his very being alive in a way he hadn’t felt but once before, when making love to Elizabeth. They’d made love, made a child, and it wasn’t until after that the Lust had taken him, driving him mad and driving him away.
Now, his Lust was so powerful, it was edging him toward madness before he’d even started. What a fool he was! He should have stayed with pleasuring Eden, adoring her… then he could keep in control. He bowed his head to hers, his eyes closed, panting to maintain the illusion of his control.
She arched and squirmed under him, her body telling him to move.
He obliged without opening his eyes, pulling back and stroking into the impossibly sweet, hot, tightness of her body. Everything about her—body and soul—called to him, driving him, unleashing his Sin… he stilled again, fearing the wildness would break free.
Her hands found his cheeks. “Razael,” she panted. “Razael, open your eyes.”
He shuddered. Then he forced them open. The love in her eyes conquered him—slayed him outright. He would do whatever she commanded. He trembled in fear and anticipation of what she would ask.
She stroked his face. “It’s all right.” Her breath bathed
his face in warmth. “I’m here. You’re all right.”
Her words had a strange magic, calming him, body and soul.
“You need to make me a promise,” she said.
What promise could he possibly give and keep? But gazing into the depth of her eyes—her soul—there was no possibility of saying no.
“Promise me,” she went on, “that you’ll always remember this. You’ll remember that I loved you. That you were worthy of that love. That you deserved this moment of love—we both did—because this is what we were made for. To love. To hold. To not hold back when our beloved calls to us and asks everything of us. Remember that, Razael, no matter what else happens. Remember this.” Then she pulled him down, her lips brushing his in the most tender way.
Love. She had Love of him, and it was True. He felt it through to the depths of his soul, for she wasn’t telling him anything new—she was telling him something ancient. That he was made for Love, always and forever, and that the greatest gift is not to be loved but to give love, without reservation, without caution. That was the choir of angels singing their praise. It was his soul expanding without end.
It was him loving Eden.
“You are an angel,” he said in wonder.
“I am very much a woman.” And the Love in her eyes blazed with heat and want. They were still coupled, but he had not given himself over to her, not truly, not yet. His fear had held him back, but no more. There was no Sin in this Love they shared. It was as immortal as he, even if this time together lasted for a mere moment. Their Love was pure, even though he was in shadow. Such was the nature of her Virtues and their Love—together, they had the power to lift him out of his Sin to a higher state. One where pleasure and Love were one and the same.
“My love for you…” He pulled back and stroked into her—strong yet gentle with her delicately human form. She cried out and arched against him. “My love for you…” he whispered against her neck, stroking again and eliciting that cry. It flashed pleasure through him, but there was no wildness. No insanity. Just an ache to give her more. He stroked again and again, and her hands pulled at him, urging him faster. He obeyed, for her will was his, her body and his were one. Her pleasure and his combined. The pace quickened, and his breath with it. “My love… for you… is…” he gasped. He could feel the peak coming like an avalanche once started that could not be contained. He kept thrusting into her body, holding her against the trembling and rocking of their union. She cried out, writhing against him, her body clenching around him, hurrying him into the storm of pleasure that was peaking, peaking, peaking.
“Forever,” he gasped, and then he came in a pulse that felt like coming undone. Magic rocketed from him, a blast so powerful, it almost wrenched her from his arms. His pleasure tore at him, pulled him apart, stretching and stretching him, then pulled him back together. Throughout the coming undone and the calling together, Eden clung to him, rocking and calling his name. He didn’t know how long it lasted—the moment was timeless, eternal like his Love for her—and then suddenly he was in the world again, in her arms, his body wrung out of every last bit of energy.
“Razael,” Eden said, still holding his face, peering into it with a concern that felt like a warm blanket. “Say something.”
He swallowed the dryness in his mouth—it felt like he’d cried out at some point. Had he blasted her with angelsong? But she seemed fine, just worried at his silence. And she was blazing those Virtues of Kindness and Compassion at him. Finally, when he felt he could speak, he said, “My love, you are a wonder.”
A slow smile stole over her face. “That good, huh?”
He felt a laugh seize hold of him, deep inside. But he resisted. “There is no angel sword which can slay me, no force which can destroy me, save the Most High… yet, I loving you nearly tore me apart.”
Her brow furrowed. “That doesn’t sound good.”
He smiled wide and nestled a kiss into the crook of her neck. “It was very, very good.”
She laughed, and the sound of it was pure joy in his ears. He pulled back to gaze at her. Her Virtues astonished him. Even now, in the afterglow of their lovemaking, she was mostly concerned for him.
A blessing he didn’t deserve but would take, all the same.
They were still joined—he had hardly moved during that soul-destroying and soul-remaking climax. He brushed her mussed hair back from her face. “I must go rejoin the war.”
Her face clouded, but then a stoicism took hold. “Already?” she asked, but not with much hope.
He smiled. “Not quite yet.” He had full control of his human form—that had always been true—and he could command it to be ready to please her whenever he wished. But now, for the first time since his Fall, he was fully in control of his soul. He was the Master of his Sins, not a slave to them.
Yet Eden owned his Love, his life, and his soul.
The world could wait while he pleasured her in all the ways he knew how.
Chapter Eighteen
Eden had lost count of the orgasms.
She’d lost track of time. She’d even momentarily lost a sense of where her body ended and Razael’s started. They coupled and uncoupled, and repeated it again and again. She lost feeling in her toes a couple times, the blood had pooled so thoroughly to the center of her body.
She was in heaven. There was no question.
But as she lay on the bed, basking in the glow of the latest orgasm Razael had wrenched out of her, she sensed that heaven was soon coming to an end. She refused to believe that end was permanent. Somehow, some way, Razael would defeat the evil that wanted to keep them apart. She would wait for him all the days of her life if that’s what it took. And if she was wrong, she would simply raise her son and tell him of Razael—the angel who should be his father—and someday, hundreds of years hence, maybe the two would meet. Her son would be her emissary to the future, and he would tell Razael of his mother’s great love for the angel who saved her in every way.
Who saved them both.
Razael stood up from their rumpled bed, tossed from all their lovemaking. He stretched, naked and glorious, in that human form she knew was just the manifestation he wore for her—specifically for her, as Erelah had been sure to tell her. He’d made himself smaller—not the oversized angel form that Elyon and most other angels took, for pride or glory or just a not-so-subtle reminder they were angel and not humankind. But not Razael—he had known, even from the start, that she needed to see his gentle side, and he chose a smaller, less intimidating frame to reside in.
Sexy as hell, though. Damn. The best sex of her life with the most perfect male specimen she’d ever seen.
“My love?” She’d taken up his habit with that pet name. It perfectly fit the way she felt, constantly, in his presence.
He turned and smiled. “One more time, then?”
“No.” Then she shook her head at her stupidity. “I mean yes and of course! But no, that wasn’t what I was going to say.”
He came to perch on the edge of the bed, and she propped up on her elbow. “A blessing then, before I go?” he asked.
Ah, so he was going. The pain in her chest was most definitely her heart breaking.
“No.” She sat up more so she could face him properly. She was still naked, as was he, but it felt like the most natural of things. “I just want to get a good look at you, one more time.”
He held his hands out and smiled a crooked grin. “Here I am.”
“Stand up!” she said with mock seriousness. He stood in all his naked masculine glory. “Turn around!”
He grinned wider as he did, arms outstretched, hair mussed from so much sex. His chest was perfectly muscled, his arms were sexy tendons of strength, his legs were shaped like a carving of a Greek god. His cock lay soft against his leg, but it was thick and delicious-looking all the same. He completed his turn and looked to her for approval.
She pursed her lips, pretending to consider his unspoken request. Then she realized… “I want to
see your wings.”
His goofy grin faded. But he unfurled them for her…
She blinked, and her breath hitched. What? How? “Razael,” she breathed.
He looked, and the shock on his face couldn’t have been more complete.
Snowy white wings spanned the length of her small bedroom.
Eden scrambled off the bed and stood before him. “You… you’ve…” She gestured helplessly at his white wingspan. She didn’t even have the right words for this. But it was huge. She knew that without explanation.
“I cannot… believe…” Razael looked back at her, his eyes slowly getting wider. “You have saved me, Eden.”
“I… what? No.” Eden shook her head, but her hands were clasped in front of her face, covering her stupid, silly grin. “You did this.”
He looked affronted. “I most certainly did not.”
She laughed at the pure absurdity of it. Because of course he did it. He mended her soul, and then he gave himself over to Love… and mended his own. He was staring hard at his wings, flexing them back and forth, as if he couldn’t believe they were real, even though he conjured them. Silly angel—where did he think they came from?
Eden skittered over to one of his wings to run her fingers through the feathers. They were like the softest down.
A heated look passed over his face. “Do not do that.”
“Oh!” She lifted her hands right away. “Did I hurt you?”
He reached for her and pulled her quickly into his chest, holding her cradled against his bare skin. “Do not do that unless you want me to bend you over the side of the bed and impale you with my cock.”
Heat rushed between her legs. “Oooh…” she purred, biting her lip. “Sensitive, are they?”
He gave her a look that made her toes tingle. She was half convinced he would throw her back on the bed, but then he just blinked and stared at his wing again, then her, then back to the wings. “My thoughts for you at the moment are riddled with Lust, my love,” he said, breathless with awe. “And yet… I am in the Light.” He just blinked again.
