For Love of an Angel

by Rosalie Lario

  “Oh my…God!” Her legs shook like mad as her body convulsed, leaving her vision hazy and her heart slamming against her chest.

  Holy hell. One touch of his finger and she’d had the most intense orgasm of her life. The reality of that completely blew her mind. How could any man ever compare to this angel? To Michael?

  He waited until she regained some semblance of conscious thought before sliding his fingers along her body again. “That was astounding, beloved.” The depth of his desire was evident in his eyes, in the harsh rasping of his breath. “To see the passion on your face as you come apart beneath my hands…there’s no comparison.”

  As if to punctuate his words, he slid one long finger inside her, gliding in and out, setting a rhythm that quickly drove her to the edge once again. She couldn’t help but moan. “Oh, that feels…” Arching her back, she dug her elbows into the mattress, using them to hold her upper body off the mattress. She wanted to watch him, to see the look of desire on his face.

  He noticed her watching and caught his lip between his teeth in a sexy, teasing gesture. “You like this.”

  It was a statement, not a question. Still she answered. “Yes.”

  “Mm…me too.” He withdrew his hand. Before she could bemoan its loss, he slid down the bed and onto his stomach, positioning himself between her legs.

  Oh, wait a second. She’d wondered what his electric tongue would feel like down there, but now she was afraid it’d be too intense. “Wait…”

  With a grin, he threw her legs over his shoulders and touched his tongue to her.

  “Oh my God!”

  She screamed when he gave her a long, slow lick, gently sucking in on her clit. His fingers joined his tongue and she was gone. A hard climax ripped through her, seizing her muscles with such force that she’d no doubt be sore later. He worked her the whole while, and when she began to come down he increased the intensity again, probing deep with his tongue. On and on it went until she lost track of the number of times she’d come.

  Her last thought before an exhausted slumber claimed her was, This is a good way to die.

  ***

  The grumbling of Eva’s stomach woke her. With a disoriented blink, she sat up in the bed. The angle of the light streaming in from her bedroom window told her it was approaching late afternoon. The room was empty except for her. But before Michael went wherever it was he’d gone, he’d at least had the forethought to cover her with her bed sheet.

  He didn’t leave, did he?

  Fighting back the panic that sudden thought brought about, she threw the sheet off and hopped out of bed. Her leg muscles screamed in protest. Biting back a small moan, she buttoned her sleep shirt and went in search of Michael. She found him in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator. He was bare-chested as usual, though his semi-wet hair indicated he’d recently showered. On top of the counter was her ratty old picnic basket, which she hadn’t used since her mother had died.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Straightening, he turned to face her and snatched her into his arms. He gave her a long, leisurely kiss that somehow managed to get her all hot and bothered. She would’ve thought she’d had enough orgasms to tide her over until next year, but apparently her body didn’t agree.

  “I found this delightful area on the roof that’s been converted into a garden of sorts,” he murmured. “I thought we could picnic up there.”

  A picnic? He wanted to take her on a picnic? Something inside her melted at that thought. Still, she felt compelled to point out, “You know that’s a private rooftop terrace for the penthouse apartment.”

  He shrugged. “No one was up there.”

  Pulling away, she threw him a suspicious look. “Wait, you can’t get to that terrace from the fire escape.”

  “No,” he agreed.

  “Did you…wait, you flew up there? In the middle of the day?”

  “Don’t fret, beloved. I was quite careful.” Grinning, he affectionately kissed the top of her head before turning back to the fridge and pulling out the leftover roasted chicken. “Why don’t you have a shower while I pack everything we need?”

  She couldn’t find a reason to argue with that so she went into the shower, spraying the water as hot as she could stand to loosen her achy muscles. When she hopped out, there was a dress lying on her bed. It was a summery coral with spaghetti straps, a low-cut vee top, and a long, flowing skirt. She’d bought it on impulse last summer and had ended up never using it. After all, where would a barista wear a dress like that?

  Guess he wants me to put it on.

  Well, there was no harm in doing so. She started toward her dresser for undergarments, but on impulse decided against them. Two could play the teasing game Michael seemed so fond of. After dressing she dug out a pair of gold sandals from her closet and tugged them on, then went in search of her Fallen angel. She found him on the fire escape, staring up at the sky.

  He turned when he heard her, and devoured her with his hungry gaze. “You look magnificent.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, struck by a sudden burst of shyness.

  Picking up the picnic basket that sat at his feet, he held a hand out to her. “Ready to come out?”

  What? She stared at him. “Wait, you don’t expect me to actually fly up to the roof with you, do you?”

  “Why not?” He grinned, and when she hesitated, rumbled, “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  Oh…what the hell. When else would she get the opportunity to fly with an angel? She stepped over the windowsill onto the fire escape and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Closing his free arm tight around her, Michael sprouted his wings.

  Before she could suck in a breath he shot upward, moving so fast that everything was a big blur.

  “Holy shi—!”

  He touched down on the roof before she could finish her words, and with a blink his wings were gone.

  “That was…something.” Letting go of him, she turned around and gasped. The small patio had been transformed by its owners into an enchanted garden. A large trellis covered most of the space, and vines of ivy wound all around it, so green and thick that when she walked under it the sky above was completely invisible.

  He was right. They could picnic here without worry of being spotted by an angel flying overhead.

  Michael joined her under the trellis, opening the picnic basket so he could withdraw a blanket. He laid it on the floor. “Take a seat, beloved.”

  She lifted her dress up a fraction so she could sit comfortably, then watched as he sat and took a bottle of wine out of the basket. Only after he opened it and handed her a glass did she speak. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  He looked surprised by her words. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean”—she gestured at the picnic basket—”all this. Is it just because you want me to come with you?”

  Setting the wine bottle down, he took her free hand in his. “Eva, you deserve all this and more. Don’t ever sell yourself short.”

  Discomfited, she took a deep swallow from her glass while he filled a large plate with a few slices of the roasted chicken and some mixed greens.

  He placed the plate in front of her and snagged a bite of chicken. “Tell me about your family.”

  “My family?” She picked up some chicken and chewed on it absently. “Don’t have any left. It was just me and my mom. She died three years ago. Cancer. They didn’t discover it until it was too late.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “What of your father? Was he in the picture?”

  “My father?” She snagged some greens. “Never knew him. My mom didn’t even know him.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “My mother wasn’t very social,” she explained. “Actually, that’s an understatement. She hated most people. A byproduct of growing up with two abusive assholes for parents, she always told me. As a result she was pretty much a hermit. But one day she saw a pretty man walking down the stree
t, and she knew she had to have him. She never even knew his name.”

  “So she knew nothing at all about him, or his heritage?”

  “Heritage?” She blinked in confusion. He must mean her father’s background. “No. He was gone when she woke up the next morning. And then nine months later came me.” She shot him a smile. “She said it was kismet. That the reason she felt so horny that one particular day was because I was meant to be.”

  “Your mother sounds like a wise, and very honest, woman.”

  “More like crass and over-sharing.” Eva let out a soft laugh. “But she was mine and I loved her.”‘

  “You still miss her,” he observed.

  “Every single day.” She searched his face. “What about you? Your parents, siblings? Your mate? Tell me about them.”

  Michael broke off a slice of chicken and fed it to her. “My parents chose to go into oblivion during my younger years.”

  “Oblivion?”

  “I told you that without sex, angels will eventually lose their immortality, grow old and die. Some angels, feeling they’ve lived long enough, willingly choose this path. Such was the case with my parents.”

  “Wow.” She couldn’t imagine what would go into making that kind of decision. “How did you feel about that?”

  He shrugged. “They were pleased about it, and therefore so was I. I miss them, but I’m at peace with their decision.”

  “What about your sisters and mate? Are you at peace with that?”

  The smile slid from his face.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best question to ask. She winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “No. No need.” He took a drink of his wine. “It took me some time to come to terms with the manner of their deaths, but I’m at peace with it now. I remain calm knowing they would want me to go on with my life. To find love again.”

  His steady gaze met hers, the expression in his eyes saying everything his words didn’t. He was offering her the world, if she dared to choose it.

  Eva gulped and looked down. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  Throughout the rest of their meal, he told her stories about his world and what it was like. There were some similarities to hers, but mostly she found angel politics confusing.

  Finally, with her belly full and her head fuzzy from the wine, she lay back onto the blanket, letting out a contented sigh. “So…what now?”

  “Now”—he reclined on his side facing her and supported his head with his hand while sending his finger on a lazy trail down her stomach—”comes the best part. Dessert.”

  Chapter Eight

  Michael stared down at her with a wolfish grin. Despite the fact that she’d spent the better part of the afternoon being pleasured by him, Eva still felt a flood of heat wash over her cheeks. “You’re kidding. Again?”

  “Again?” He gave an incredulous laugh and rolled so that his upper body covered hers. “Eva, I could spend an eternity tasting you, and it wouldn’t be long enough. Do you doubt that for a second?”

  “Um…no.” How could she? The proof of his desire dug hard against her thigh. Lord, he was so magnificent with his topaz eyes blazing down on her. She trailed her fingers along his chest then over his shoulders, memorizing every dip and curve of his rigid flesh. “I just don’t understand. Of all the people in this world, why me?”

  His brows furrowed, but then he smiled and they smoothed out. “Kismet, beloved. It was meant to be.”

  Of all the things he could have said, that was the most perfect one.

  Her lips curved into a wide grin that she couldn’t hold back. Closing her hands around the back of his neck, she tugged him down and gave him a passionate kiss that seemed to go on forever. It grew in intensity, sparking an ache between her thighs that prompted her to jerk her hips toward his lower body. She slid her hand down, searching out the hard length of his arousal. But before she could do more than touch him he cuffed his hands around her wrists, dragging them over her head.

  His voice husky, he murmured, “Patience.”

  “No.” She had none, especially when she knew he wasn’t going to give her what shereally wanted. “I want to feel you.”

  “I’m right here.” He punctuated his words by undulating against her. His tongue set a path down her throat, rendering her all but insensible with its electrifying vibrations. He freed one of her wrists and moved his hand to the top of her dress. One little tug was all it took to free them of its confines. No doubt the reason he’d wanted her to wear it.

  He moved his mouth to her breast, tracing a wide circle without actually touching her nipple. It hardened to the point of discomfort and she arched upward, trying to make contact with his mouth.

  “Not so fast.” Drawing his head back, he moved to the other breast and repeated the same pattern.

  She stood it as long as she could before arching upward again. “Do it already.”

  With a soft chuckle, he cupped her breasts, drawing one into his mouth and sucking hard on it.

  “Oh…yes.” She tangled her hands in his hair, holding him to her breasts as he nipped and tugged. The spot between her legs pulsed in answer to his teasing nips.

  He lifted up to look in her eyes. “I can smell your desire, beloved. It calls to me.”

  His words released a wellspring of passion from within her. She pushed on his shoulders, nudging him down. With a soft laugh he obeyed, spreading her knees before lifting the skirt of the dress to her waist. For a moment he simply looked at her.

  “So beautiful.”

  Biting her lip, she arched her hips upward. “Please.”

  At long last he brought his mouth down to her, treating her to a long, slow lick. Her legs shook from the currents of energy vibrating off his tongue. One more flick and she exploded, her thighs tensing against his head to lock him in place. He continued his luscious assault while she rode out her wave, lips and tongue teasing her back to desire in the span of a minute.

  Oh, to think he’d said he could spend an eternity doing this. That was starting to sound really good. For her at least. He had to be in pain, with the arousal she’d felt pressed against her earlier.

  Come to think of it, even if he wouldn’t have sex without commitment, that didn’t mean she couldn’t find another way to please him. And she knew a perfect one.

  “Turn around,” she said to him, her voice croaky from the aftereffects of countless orgasms.

  He lifted his head long enough to blink at her. “What?”

  Fighting back a blush, she said,” Turn around. I want to taste you.” When he hesitated, she said, “Oh come on, you said no sex. That’s not sex.”

  It was all the convincing he needed apparently. He rolled her to one side and swiveled so that his lower body was toward her head. When he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and shifted to bring his head between them again, his taut lower abdomen and the top of his slacks fell into line with her face.

  Oh sweet heavens. He was so long and hard that his slacks couldn’t even hold him in. The erect head of his cock strained against the fabric, fighting for freedom. One flick of a button was all it took for it to pop out toward her. She let out a loud gasp. It was easily the largest erection she’d ever seen. Just the sight of it turned the pulse between her legs into an aching throb. What would he taste like?

  With a lick of her lips, she closed her hand around the thick base, guiding the tip into her mouth. He groaned and twitched when her lips closed around him. Good. It was past time she repaid some of the torture he’d put her through today.

  She sucked the tip into her mouth, then released him so she could give a slow lick from base to tip.

  “Damnation,” he groaned, lifting his head. “You’re going to kill me.”

  “That’s impossible, remember?” she teased, guiding him into her mouth again. She moved up and down on him, discovering that if she angled her head just right she could take a good portion into her mouth. He rewarded her with a soft nip that sent her over the edge. Sh
e cried out as her legs convulsed, sending shudders throughout her body. Then he began to pump into her mouth, driving an insistent rhythm that, much to her amazement, quickly urged her into another hard climax. This time he came with her, thrusting hard as he let out a heavy groan.

  His taste was very much like his scent. Spicy, exotic, and wholly arousing. She swallowed it down fighting back the very real and somehow frightful feeling that something major had just shifted inside her. It was just oral sex. That was all.

  And so what if it was with the most fascinating being she’d ever met? With the one man who’d ever made her feel unique and desired?

  Oh, she was so confused. What was it about Michael that made her want to risk it all? He was a Fallen, for goodness sake, living the life of the damned.

  After what seemed like an eternity he shifted. There was the rustle of clothes and the sound of something being zipped, and then he was by her side, smoothing her skirt down and adjusting the top of her dress. “The hour grows late. I fear the residents of this unit will soon return.”

  Late? She blinked as she realized night had fallen sometime during their love fest. “Oh.”

  Eva allowed him to pull her up. She stood by, watching in an orgasm-induced daze while he placed everything back into the picnic basket.

  Something felt different between them now, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why. So she said nothing.

  Michael turned and held his hand out to her. “Ready?”

  She wrapped her arms around him without hesitation, and in the blink of an eye he took off. Seconds later they landed on her fire escape and his wings were gone. She couldn’t help but stare at his bare back as she followed him inside. Amazing. Not even a dent or bump to show his wings were just there.

  “How do you do it?” she asked, reaching her fingers out to slide along his back.

  “Do what?” He stopped and turned to face her.