On Azrael's Wings by D Jordan Redhawk Page A

legs. She thrust down, sharp pants escaping her as she found herself suddenly impaled. Despite the unaccustomed sensation, Ursula found it to be exactly what she wanted as she lifted and pressed down again. Her hands squeezed her mistress’ breasts as she rode, all thought fleeing in the wake of moonlit arousal.
    Silken walls gripped Azrael’s finger and she added a second as the woman above her began moving. Dark eyes narrowed to pleasurable slits, she watched Ursula’s face contort in desire, listened to the honeyed voice gasp words of encouragement, felt the crush of fingers on her chest. Using her free hand, she pulled the slave down for a kiss, reveling in the passionate exchange broken only by a groan as her thumb rubbed against Ursula’s clit.
    With a shuddering gasp, Ursula felt the rush of arousal reach its height. For a single moment, she was perched on the edge, holding her breath as she strained against her lover’s hand. Then she was past, riding the wave down as she came, crying Azrael’s name into the night.
    A gentle shaking woke her. Ursula opened her eyes to see Midia in the murky darkness of the tent. The blonde placed a finger over her lips and waved her forward. It took a moment for Ursula to comprehend but she finally nodded and took stock of her surroundings.
    She was warm and comfortable in her mistress’ bed, the dark woman pressing against her from behind, a strong hand cupping her breast. Ursula sighed at the tingle between her legs, wondering if the previous night would be anytime soon. Reluctantly, she eased out from under Azrael’s arm and the covers, shivering in the chill of morning as she quickly donned her dress.
    Midia had already ducked outside and Ursula followed, meeting her at the kitchen tent. No words were spoken, a week of working together lending familiarity to the needs of their owner. Still, the brunette wondered if Midia was jealous at being replaced in Azrael’s bed the previous night. The blonde showed no signs of ill will, however, smiling easily as they scooped coals from the banked fire into a brazier.
    Ursula carried the heated brazier while Midia retrieved a pot of water. They trudged back to their mistress’ tent and set the water to heating just outside. Another trip was made to the kitchen to find cold food for Azrael’s early morning breakfast, something to tide her over until hot food was prepared.
    Back inside, they cleared part of the table and set down the plate of leftovers from the previous night’s meal. Midia measured mint leaves into a cup so only hot water would be needed while Ursula pulled their mistress’ robe from a trunk and draped it across the foot of the bed. When all was in readiness, the brunette undressed and slipped back under the covers.
    A shiver shook her body at the heat of Azrael’s skin against hers. Ursula scooted back until her mistress slid a hand along her body, returning it to the brunette’s breast. With a sigh, the slave drowsed, feeling the tickle of breath against the nape of her neck and hearing Midia ease back onto the pallet on the floor.
    Again Ursula was awakened by a touch. Fingers caressed her belly and breast, idly tracing her navel and dipping down to tickle the apex of her thighs. Inhaling deeply, the brunette squirmed at the contact, pressing backwards. She could feel the chuckle as well as hear it, a rumbling against her neck where lips stroked her. The hand slid up her body, leisurely rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger before continuing on over her shoulder and to her neck.
    Azrael brushed mahogany hair aside and nibbled the olive skin, eyes closed. Her palm drifted along the lithe form, following the curve of shoulder and waist and hip, stretching over a cool thigh. Applying pressure, she murmured, “Bring your knees up to your chest.”
    The half asleep burr washed over Ursula and she did as ordered. Azrael’s hand eased down the back of her thigh and up between her legs, fingers finding