Did
it...did it hurt?”
On this one thing, at
least, she could reassure him. “No. He could have made it terrible
for me, unbearable. Unaccountably he didn't. I don't know why.”
Saying so much
without saying anything at all, they came together. Evie held him
tightly, reveling in the strong beating of his heart next to hers.
She had been so close to losing him forever. Her wing, as beautiful
and perfect as it was, remained only an appendage. What was that in
comparison to a life? He had been ready to sacrifice everything to
keep her safe, he would do it again. How could she not do the
same?
They made love,
slowly, carefully, as though each was afraid the other would break
apart and blow away in the sea wind. The desperation of their first
encounter replaced by wonder at their survival. The fact that
somehow, miraculously they were together. For however long that
was. Evie could not touch him enough, her hands stroked him
restlessly, her fingertips memorizing every inch as though he might
vanish at any moment. He almost had.
Side by side, he held
her tightly. Her heart beating next to his. A light rain began to
fall, blown in from the sea, spattering over the sand, wetting
their hair and skin. The waves crashed, nearly reaching them. They
never felt the rain nor heard the sea's roar.
With her remaining
wing she gently pushed him back into the sand, sliding off his
jeans and her soft pants. Gracefully she positioned herself over
him, straddling his strong hips with her thighs. Evie leaned over
until her breasts brushed his chest, caressing the flat hard planes
of his body, her long, tangled hair on his face. His back arched
and he moaned. She grasped him, feeling him engorged with blood and
desire.
For a time she just
stared, thinking and yet trying not to think of all she had done.
For him and to herself. He was breathing hard, chest rising and
falling in anticipation. She moved him to the dark sheath of
muscles between her legs, watching him watching her. He pushed up,
trying to enter but she tipped her hips away, the goal just out of
reach. They looked into each other's eyes, then much deeper.
Enough. She positioned him where he wanted to be – where she wanted
him to be. Moving her hips exquisitely, slowly, she pushed
down.
Trick gasped, feeling
the pressure as he tried to enter. Supporting herself on her arms,
she arched her back, raising her full hips just a little. Unable to
restrain himself any longer, Trick grabbed onto her with his broad,
strong hands and pressed her down. The skin burst through and the
rest of him followed. Her muscles clamped tightly and convulsively
around him and he moaned as the sensation ripped across his nervous
system, spreading over his hips to climb up his spine and explode
everywhere at once. He throbbed in time to her passion. And
his.
Evie
rocked back and forth, reveling in the sensation of him. She had
given up so much for this Reaper, yet she could not regret it. Even
now, maimed as she was, she felt beautiful and whole and so very
much more than just alive. Maybe saving him is what she was meant
to do all along. The reason for her transition from human to
Avenging Angel and now to this. As Father Cortez said, things don't
always happen to us. Often they happen because of us.
The rain slicked her
hair down on her head and she suddenly looked very young and very
human. With a cry, Trick sat up, pulling her to him, saying her
name, holding her so tightly he knew it would leave bruises,
however fleeting, on her skin. He couldn't stop himself. She had
given up so much for him, fought so hard. How could he deserve
this?
Evie seemed to know
what he was thinking. She held him just as tightly, sheltering him
with her remaining wing, whispering words into his ear. Afterwards
she couldn't even remember what she said but gradually, slowly, the
awful tension and anguish left him. Then his lips were once again
on hers.
She stretched her
legs over his thighs and his arms wrapped around
it...did it hurt?”
On this one thing, at
least, she could reassure him. “No. He could have made it terrible
for me, unbearable. Unaccountably he didn't. I don't know why.”
Saying so much
without saying anything at all, they came together. Evie held him
tightly, reveling in the strong beating of his heart next to hers.
She had been so close to losing him forever. Her wing, as beautiful
and perfect as it was, remained only an appendage. What was that in
comparison to a life? He had been ready to sacrifice everything to
keep her safe, he would do it again. How could she not do the
same?
They made love,
slowly, carefully, as though each was afraid the other would break
apart and blow away in the sea wind. The desperation of their first
encounter replaced by wonder at their survival. The fact that
somehow, miraculously they were together. For however long that
was. Evie could not touch him enough, her hands stroked him
restlessly, her fingertips memorizing every inch as though he might
vanish at any moment. He almost had.
Side by side, he held
her tightly. Her heart beating next to his. A light rain began to
fall, blown in from the sea, spattering over the sand, wetting
their hair and skin. The waves crashed, nearly reaching them. They
never felt the rain nor heard the sea's roar.
With her remaining
wing she gently pushed him back into the sand, sliding off his
jeans and her soft pants. Gracefully she positioned herself over
him, straddling his strong hips with her thighs. Evie leaned over
until her breasts brushed his chest, caressing the flat hard planes
of his body, her long, tangled hair on his face. His back arched
and he moaned. She grasped him, feeling him engorged with blood and
desire.
For a time she just
stared, thinking and yet trying not to think of all she had done.
For him and to herself. He was breathing hard, chest rising and
falling in anticipation. She moved him to the dark sheath of
muscles between her legs, watching him watching her. He pushed up,
trying to enter but she tipped her hips away, the goal just out of
reach. They looked into each other's eyes, then much deeper.
Enough. She positioned him where he wanted to be – where she wanted
him to be. Moving her hips exquisitely, slowly, she pushed
down.
Trick gasped, feeling
the pressure as he tried to enter. Supporting herself on her arms,
she arched her back, raising her full hips just a little. Unable to
restrain himself any longer, Trick grabbed onto her with his broad,
strong hands and pressed her down. The skin burst through and the
rest of him followed. Her muscles clamped tightly and convulsively
around him and he moaned as the sensation ripped across his nervous
system, spreading over his hips to climb up his spine and explode
everywhere at once. He throbbed in time to her passion. And
his.
Evie
rocked back and forth, reveling in the sensation of him. She had
given up so much for this Reaper, yet she could not regret it. Even
now, maimed as she was, she felt beautiful and whole and so very
much more than just alive. Maybe saving him is what she was meant
to do all along. The reason for her transition from human to
Avenging Angel and now to this. As Father Cortez said, things don't
always happen to us. Often they happen because of us.
The rain slicked her
hair down on her head and she suddenly looked very young and very
human. With a cry, Trick sat up, pulling her to him, saying her
name, holding her so tightly he knew it would leave bruises,
however fleeting, on her skin. He couldn't stop himself. She had
given up so much for him, fought so hard. How could he deserve
this?
Evie seemed to know
what he was thinking. She held him just as tightly, sheltering him
with her remaining wing, whispering words into his ear. Afterwards
she couldn't even remember what she said but gradually, slowly, the
awful tension and anguish left him. Then his lips were once again
on hers.
She stretched her
legs over his thighs and his arms wrapped around
Similar Books
