There was no wrong, or right. No thought of who she was and what she had done to him as an angel. Here she was a woman in need and he was a captivating man whom she’d loved before she came to earth.
His hand gradually slipped down her back and cupped the globe of her bottom. He drew her close to him so that she felt his erection jutting against her abdomen. She was no innocent. Centuries of living had allowed her to see all walks of life throughout the ages. She knew what men and women did.
And now she knew why.
She felt no apprehension. No shame. This was a pleasure of life. It was good, was always meant to be good. A gift. Being an angel she’d never fully understood the passion, the drive that made man and woman blind to everything else. She’d seen the physical side of love make humans stride to great lengths of compassion and she’d also seen it lead to death. It harbored the darker emotions, seen people blind to everything in their jealousy, had used it to make others bend to their will, had seen humans take what they want without the consent of the other.
It had always haunted her, these two sides. Such extremes that could control humans. She’d watched, learned about the emotions, the rein of self-control it sometimes took to overcome the need. But learning and experiencing were two different things.
Now she was here, in flesh and blood, willing and wanting just as much as Daman, she yearned to share her body. It was a gesture, a token, an offering where two souls might join and meld together in the physical world. She understood these building feelings, shared with the one you were in love with was so sweet, so beautiful, she knew why it made people crazy with the longing and the yearning for it. The wanting of it.
His touch was magical. She wanted to feel his hands on her, wanted to touch him. The way her blood pumped this tingly sensation through her body, the way it pooled in other parts, making them throb and yearn with a burning fire. She wanted his hands to touch her there, to relieve the building tension that was increasingly blinding her to all else around her.
He kneaded her buttock, pulling her against him in a quick, commanding movement. The head of his hardened penis jutted into her soft belly. Tingles swirled low in her abdomen. The same sensation pulled at her breasts, like there was an invisible thread that ran from her groin, through her stomach, along her quickly liquefying bones to her nipples. It swept her away, taking her to a height she didn’t know could exist.
She drew her leg upwards, her inner thigh quivering as his rough jeans rubbed her skin there. His hand rounded her buttock and claimed beneath her leg. His fingertips massaged, his tips grazing the top of her sensitive inner thigh. An electric thrill zapped through her body, leaving a trembling ache in its aftershock. She inched her hips forward, pressing herself firmly against him. There was no question of her need.
He groaned, his hands flying to her face as he deepened the kiss, savoring, delighting. His tongue swirled against hers. His lips crushing. He tasted of heady masculine spice, smelled of freshly crushed pine needles that did something to her mind and made her forget everything but the here and now. His wet, satiny lips moved against hers, claiming, commanding. She suckled, tasting, exploring.
He withdrew all but the tip of his tongue. Inched it along her bottom lip, breathtakingly slowly. Her mouth hung open, her breath heavy, mingling with his. She tasted him in her mouth, on her lips. The slippery lightness of that erotic touch made her belly swirl with molten urgency. Her spiraling need compelling.
Demanding.
He pulled back keeping his hands on her face. His eyes were clouded, mouth wet from their contact. His breathing was heavy, matching hers. A pulse ticked at the base of her neck. His eyes roamed her face, waiting.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
He blinked. His face hardened. A light blatantly burned in his dark eyes. There was no question. Only hunger. Intent. His gaze fell to her lips. They fell open. She inhaled quickly. The small noise trembled.
It was enough to set him into action.
Wordlessly, he swept her into his arms and took her from the kitchen, down the hallway and kicked open the closest of the bedroom doors. She held onto his neck, entwining her fingers behind his nape as he lowered her to the bed. He stood over her as she lay, his gaze caressing her feet to her face. His eyes blazed with resolute purpose. Her belly trembled.
There would be no more waiting. She didn’t want to. Her fingers scrunched the bedclothes.
He started at her feet, tracing his fingertips upwards along her ankles to her shin. Goosebumps scattered over her skin. Her attention was wholly captivated at the point of their contact. Upwards he went to her thighs, over her hips. Her groin throbbed and she clenched her lower lip between her teeth as he passed that area that called for his attention. His fingertips slid beneath her T-shirt to make skin-on-skin contact. Her stomach muscles clenched as he traced around her belly button, traveling on their path up her body.
The tips reached the area beneath her breasts. With the barest of touches, he sculpted her shape. She quivered, her body tense. He looked directly at her, impaling her with his sharp gaze. She held it, waiting while his fingers touched her breast as lightly as a feather. Her attention was riveted to it, her heated skin singing, sensation simmering. The quiet before the storm.
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 collarbone 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 in 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.
Daman's Angel (Crimson Romance) Page 11
