Daman's Angel

by Charmaine Ross

  His knee sank onto the bed and he knelt at her side. He bent to her, closed the distance and took her mouth with his. At the same time his hand came over the top of her breast and claimed it. She bucked as the heat from his palm singed her already fraying nerves. He massaged her, gently fondling, feeling the shape of her breast. Her nipple hardened in the palm of his hand as sensation surged, pushing all rational thought from her mind.

  His finger found the hardened nub and encircled it, stroked, caressed. She closed her eyes, riding the sweet agony. Her hands found his shoulders. Muscles bunched beneath her touch. She clung to him, riding the surging waves.

  Her body was full of surprises. Never had she thought it could sing this way to the simplest of touches. Not just any touch… Daman’s touch. Only his touch could sculpt her to this heightened level of feeling, where the emotion and physical joined so completely. Never had she thought it could be this way. It was so beautiful, so exquisite. So wholly right. The movement of his hand made her forget reason and she relaxed back into the immediate world of sensation and touch.

  His hand went to her waist, working the edge of her T-shirt free from the waistband of her jeans. He pulled the material up. She set her arms and let him free the garment from her body. Her breasts were open to the cool air. The nipples standing erect, ready to be touched again. Greedy for it.

  His hooded eyes found her breasts and he feasted his gaze. There was no shame as he looked. Instead she was overpowered by such sensuality, it almost made her giddy. He bent to her again, but when she thought he meant to kiss her, he lowered his mouth to her breast.

  His mouth found her nipple and she gasped with unexpected surprise and pleasure. Wet and hot, he surrounded it and began to suckle. He sucked her breast into his mouth, loving, laving. The tip of his tongue played with the sensitive nub, and he flicked it. An electric jolt hit her gut. She reacted so readily, arching her back and thrusting her aching breasts to be caressed with his mouth.

  His hand slid down her side, staying at her hip. His fingers dug into her jeans. He undid the bottom and the zip. His hand massaged her inner thigh and her legs fell apart a little so that she was open to him.

  He pulled away from her breast, leaving the air to cool their inflamed peaks and worked the waist of her jeans to below her bottom. She lifted her hips from the bed to let him undress her. He peeled her legs free of the denim until she was fully naked beneath his smoldering gaze.

  He knelt on the bed between her feet. “You are beautiful,” he murmured.

  He crawled along her legs. She watched him, trying to work out what he was going to do. Anticipation made her skin prickle with the hypersensitive heat. She rose onto her elbows to watch him closer.

  He was at her knees. “I didn’t know angels liked to touch like this.”

  “I have heard that when angels take bodies, they can enjoy loving just like men and women.”

  “And are you enjoying yourself, Angel?”

  She nodded, a smile caressed her mouth. “I never fully understood…” Her voice broke on a grasp as he touched a sensitive spot behind her knee. “Did you enjoy it when I kissed you on your mouth?”

  He could kiss her as much on her mouth as he wanted. She would never tire of him doing that.” Yes,” she whispered.

  “Did you like it when I kissed your breasts?”

  She licked her lips. “I did.” Very much.

  He chuckled. The warm sound wrapped gently around her. “I’ll gladly do that again, any time you wish it.”

  He stopped his upward journey at her hips. He was between her legs and she was enticingly open to him. She tingled where she wanted him to touch her. Her breathing was shallow as she watched him, engrossed by what he was about to do. Her body writhed with the sheer agony of waiting.

  His hand touched her inner thigh. Higher his fingers went until they played with the soft curls that covered her womanhood. “Do you like me touching you here?”

  His fingers found her folds, pressing inwards to find the hidden nub. There was a hint of contact, then his thumb pad circled it. Pressed. A current of sparking jolts tugged her belly. She gasped. Her hips arched, but he kept them in pace between his long-fingered hands.

  He bent closer to her. There. His breath heated her inner thigh, embraced her curls and that part of her that was so sensitive. So alive. Her breath hitched.

  “Or would you like it better like this?”

  His mouth grazed her. Wet heat absorbed her as he took her in his mouth. Suckled. Caressed with his lips. The heat of his tongue trailed a delicious path between her folds. Licking. Stroking. Her head fell back against the pillow. She was lost in a mindless state of being, inflamed beyond experience. Needing. Taking.

  Her limp legs fell apart, helpless to move. She was a vessel to just feel. Just be. One of his hands splayed possessively on her abdomen. She was his to do as he wished. And she welcomed it. Wanted it beyond anything she’d ever known.

  His fingers brushed her womanhood. Found her slick entrance. Pushed inside.

  She gasped. Her insides went rigid, but he held her in place, locked between his masterful hands, his knowing mouth. His mouth suckled her nub with excruciating agony, while his fingers withdrew and pushed inside again, filling her.

  An internal wave swelled, pulling within her abdomen. A coil unlocked, whipped through her body from his mouth to her mind. She fell limp onto the bed, gasping as golden waves of pure, delightful, sensation ripped through her body.

  He pulled away. She watched, wordless, mindless as he stripped away his clothes. He pulled his T-shirt over his head. His chest was planes of chiseled muscles, bunching and working as he moved. Shadows embraced the outline of his ribs at his side and the center line that ran from his collar bone to below his waist.

  She was helpless but to watch him while he studied her as he moved. He never took his eyes from her as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them from his lean hips. His erection sprang free, jutting majestically. She had never felt temptation so devastatingly overpowering. The need to touch him, have his skin heating hers was too much to just lie and watch.

  She reached for his erection. Wrapped her fingers around him. The skin was soft over hard. Silken. Heated. She grazed the head with the pad of her thumb. His penis jerked. Breath hissed. His head tipped back, muscles at his neck clenching.

  It seemed he delighted in her touch as she did his.

  His gaze ensnared hers once again. She wanted to give him what he’d given her. She’d seen men and women doing these things, knew what to do. Now the need burned within her.

  Keeping her hand on him, she swung her legs over the side of the bed so that she sat on the edge, in front of him. She cupped his manhood with her hand, massaging with her fingers. Felt the pulse pumping through the large vein that ran underneath.

  She touched his thigh with her free hand. He jumped. Her mouth curved. She liked having this power of touch and reaction. The smattering of dark hair on his thigh was thicker and wirier between his thighs. The hairs slipped through her fingers as she moved toward that area. She massaged the hard muscles of his leg, sliding her hand between them, finally cupping him. Fondling. Exploring.

  His hands went to her shoulders to steady himself. She looked up at him to find his attention riveted to her. Liquid pools backlit with arousal, passion, desire stoked her own excitement. Keeping her eyes trained on his, she bent forward. Took him in her mouth. He groaned, long and low, his fingers dug into her shoulders as she lowered her head to take him fully in.

  Her lips wrapped around the base. She explored with her tongue, feeling the ridges undulating, the pulse ticking with every heartbeat. She withdrew, and took him again. He strained against her, impaled by her mouth. Her fingers wrapped about his thighs, locking him where she wanted him.

  His excitement only served to ignite hers. She closed her eyes, dipping her head down onto him. She worked slowly, engrossed, delighting in his taste, the size of him i
n her mouth. Absorbed with her task.

  She opened her eyes when she had him fully in her mouth. Locked gazes. His breath hissed between clenched teeth. “My turn,” he murmured.

  He withdrew from her, lifted her back onto the bed and laid her onto her back. He crawled over her, planted his hand either side of her chest, nudging her legs aside and settling between them. The tip of his penis found her entrance. She waited, compelled to stillness.

  He dipped his head, bringing his mouth to hers, while at the same time pushing into her slick heat, expanding muscles, filling her, making her nerves sing. His hips pushed against her inner thighs. She moved her legs so that he could fill her fully. He pushed upwards, his legs clenching with a powerful thrust. She gasped into his mouth. He suckled her lips, stroked her tongue with his as he moved within her.

  He retreated and sank into her again. She wound her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, clinging tightly as he rocked her. On he went, rubbing her with his pelvis as he pushed inwards, releasing with each withdrawal.

  It was all she could do but cling to him, her insides buffeted with a growing golden wave. Sensation surged through her. She released his lips from her mouth, gasping, her insides liquefying in a frenzy of open-ended nerves.

  Heat, slick skin slipped against hers. He dipped his head, locking his cheek in the dip between her neck and shoulder. Waves crashed, spiraling upwards, reaching out, taking her down with each exquisite spasm. She cried out, clenching her limbs tight around him as he rode through her orgasm.

  He moaned. A strong thrust. His body tightened, muscles pulled. His penis throbbed and heat spilled into her. He shuddered, riding his own matching orgasm until his breath came back.

  She closed her eyes, keeping her limbs around him, knowing this was what human life was all about. The closeness, the sharing, the growing. Only life in this body would allow her to feel such all-consuming, powerful emotions. As an angel she loved, felt compassion, but this love, this closeness as a woman with a man was a completeness she’d never encountered.

  She liked it.

  Wanted more of it.

  But she was an angel. For the first time, she didn’t know if being one could ever be enough for her now. She kissed Daman’s shoulder, entwined her fingers at the hair at his nape.

  This wasn’t just new and exciting. This was the first taste of reality and she knew without a doubt she was ready to keep experiencing. She wanted Daman in her arms, to touch, to taste, smell, talk to, grow with.

  She wanted a lifetime of that. The more she saw him with human eyes, the more she wanted.

  Maybe he might want that, too. He’d accepted her as an angel, maybe he could accept her as a woman. If she just stayed on this earth, maybe they could, together, work this out.

  But there was her secret. He wouldn’t understand what she’d done.

  It was unforgivable.

  Daman stiffened, brought his head up, looked at her. The fog in his eyes had gone, leaving a stark burning horror. He withdrew from her body, rolled and sat on the deg of the bed. He sunk his head into his hands, dug his fingers through his hair. He didn’t have to speak to know what he was saying.

  She slowly sat on the bed, her back turned against him. The joy she had felt was smashed by the feeling of dark dread that slid into her belly. Reality returned with clarity of mind.

  There was no future. On earth or between them. It could never be. He would never understand what she’d done to him those years ago. He was a flesh and blood man and she was something else entirely. There could be nothing between them.

  This had been a reprehensible mistake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The night had been a long one. He’d done the unthinkable.

  Made love to an angel.

  Not just an angel—but her. She’d been the only one to turn his blood into molten honey and his brain into a mindless fog, where passion and yearning drove out rational thought. He’d been faithful to Michelle since her death. In fact, he hadn’t been the slightest bit interested in anyone. His life had been the force and plotting against the Lepski gang.

  Now he’d made love, and she wasn’t a normal woman. Flesh and blood—such flesh and blood the thought made him heat with wanting her again—but not a true woman. A creature of the afterlife, not of this world. And he’d given in to colossal temptation.

  There would be no forgiveness.

  Swinging his legs out of bed, he went into the bathroom and turned the shower on so scalding hot, it left his skin red and raw. The pain on his body was not enough to scour the guilt and self-recrimination from his mind. He plunged his head under the water and held his breath until his lungs hurt so that he burned inside and out.

  May as well get used to the heat. He was sure he’d get his gut-full in the next life.

  His breath expelled, sending a spray of water over the tiles. There was no way to relieve his guilt, so he may as well concentrate on the task at hand. Pete should be back soon and they would have to come up with a plan to get to his apartment and take the information he’d gathered. The end of his life would come soon enough and he would have plenty of time after his death to think through the wrong he’d done. At least the priest might help him.

  Daman turned the water off, stepped from the shower and scrubbed his reddened skin dry. Winding the towel around his hips, he reached for his phone and called Father Joseph. It went to his voicemail. Daman tried twice again, only to get the same result. It wasn’t like the priest not to answer his calls on the first couple of rings. Frowning, Daman reached for his clothes when Angel came into his room.

  His body instantly responded with a kick to the gut and a pull in his groin. He felt himself harden before she’d taken two steps into his room. Mentally cursing, he placed his hands on his hips and faced her.

  “I woke and you weren’t there,” she said. There was a hitch in her tone.

  He felt the pain in her voice, the misunderstanding that ripped through him, stripped his gut like the decayed half-man he knew he’d become. He’d seen her asleep before steeling into another bedroom, unable to lie with her for the night, unable to forgive himself for what he’d done. It was the selfishness of his actions that garroted his conscience. He’d taken from her—again—and left.

  How could he have forgotten Michelle so easily? So… totally.

  “I thought you’d sleep better that way,” he said.

  “But, I thought… after we…” Hurt and confusion lit her face, then comprehension. “I understand.”

  He stifled the urge to bring her into his arms, soothe her and tell her it was going to be all right. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t. Better she learned the truth; being flesh and blood was not all about the pleasure it could bring. Better she accept it was far better to be in a place where you didn’t have to feel. Where there were no morals, no right and wrong, where being an angel and taking souls to their next life was easier than having to think and realize what you’d done was wrong time and time again.

  Don’t think. Don’t feel. It left you in a better place. An easy place.

  He’d become used to living in that type of amnesia. Now look where feeling for the first time in years had gotten him. It hadn’t healed. Just left open wounds gaping. He had no right to put her though anything more than he had. He’d already gone too far. He couldn’t offer her a life. Couldn’t offer her anything beyond the next day. He couldn’t make any promises. She deserved much better than that. Any woman did, let alone an angel.

  “We’ve got a busy day ahead. I thought it would be better if you slept.” He added liar to the vast list of sins he’d committed.

  She stepped closer. “What we did was good. It wasn’t wrong.”

  He paused. “Angel, you don’t know the first thing about being human.”

  “I wanted to do what we did. Mistake or not, it was good. I don’t regret it.”

  A hot wave of emotion closed his throat. She’d admitted
it was a mistake. To know it was one thing, but to hear her say it… “As soon as you start committing wrongs and think that it’s right, you’re becoming too human.”

  “It’s good to feel. As an angel, you experience, but it’s not so intense. So mind-blowing. To me it’s so right. I can’t go back to the washed-down version I used to be.” She came to him, touched him. A simple gesture, a hand on his arm, a light feathery touch, but it had the strength of a fist. His heart constricted. He had to make her want to go.

  “Does this… pain… feel good to you?”

  “It’s better than feeling nothing at all. To feel is to live. That is the gift.”

  “Feeling the way I have done these past years is not a gift. If you ask me, it’s hell.”

  Having your heart ripped from your body, held at arm’s length and squeezed every minute of the day was not the way he wanted to keep on living. There was no end in sight. Making love to Angel had reminded him how painful it was to feel. That was something he just couldn’t do again. Once was enough.

  He looked at her, watched her silver-blonde hair frame her perfect face. She was sympathy, compassion, pure loveliness, a light from heaven. Life.

  Love.

  His heart gave a painful lurch. He couldn’t go there again. Knowing the aching pain of complete loss was too much to contemplate. He had to reject her now.

  Make it a clean cut.

  There was no future for them.

  Today was going to be the day he died and she would be returned to an angel.

  There were only a few short hours left to be together. Such a limited time to be flesh and blood together. His gaze dropped to her soft lips; lush cherry blossoms called to him. Reached for him.

  Maybe if there was just one more kiss between them, his heart wouldn’t feel so heavy. He wouldn’t be so drained. He could die without regrets; no second-guessing whether what he’d done was right or wrong.

  His head dipped, mouth accepting hers. She reached for him, pressed herself against him. Like it had always been, like it should always be.