Authors: Erica Hayes
She jumped to her knees, cradling his face in her hands. “Lune?”
“What the…?” His eyes fluttered open, heavenblue, and focused on her. He scrambled his hands beneath him, and stared, his breath short. “Morgan. You’re alive.”
Sunshine flooded her heart. Shaking, she touched his face. “I’m here. Shh. It’s all right. You okay?”
He pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his armored chest. His heartbeat thudded against her, strong and steady like
it had always been, and his glory’s warm glow surrounded her. He kissed her hair. “I am now. Thank you, Morgan.”
She clutched him closer, dazed. “You’re thanking me? You’re the one who stabbed yourself in the throat. What the hell happened?”
Lune laughed, shaky, like he didn’t trust his luck. “I think…I think I always had the answer. I just didn’t ask the right questions until now. I was selfish, but you made me forget that. You can thank heaven for saving you, Morgan. I just…I just asked. For you. That’s all.”
She closed her eyes, melting into his embrace, his scent dizzying. “And they said yes? Does that mean you’re saved, too?”
His beautiful laugh tingled through her again. He uncurled his left hand, the crossed lightning sigil still shining from his palm. “No such mercy. I skipped hell this time. But I’m still Tainted, if that’s what you care about.” His arms tensed around her. “Is that what you care about?”
“What do you mean?” She pushed back to look into his face.
He gave a sheepish shrug. “About me being Tainted. If you thought I was…y’know. Redeemed. When you said…what you said just now.”
Morgan’s skin heated. “You heard that, huh.”
“Afraid so.” His ultrablue gaze trapped her, so unguarded and vulnerable, it burned. “Did you mean it?”
All her old fear and self-doubt clamored, an evil discordant symphony in her head.
Don’t go there. Don’t trust him. It’s all a lie, Morgan. Why would he want you? Why would anyone want you?
But she ignored it. Her voice cracked, overcome. “Yes. I meant it.”
She held her breath, but the sky didn’t fall. Lightning didn’t strike—at least, not again. Luniel just stroked her damp hair back, caressed her cheekbone, touched gentle fingertips to her lips.
She closed her eyes on fresh tears, and he eased her down beside him into the rich soft cushion of his feathers. “Well, Morgan Sterling,” he whispered, brushing his mouth over her tears to catch them, “you’ve just scared the hell out of me.” And he captured her for a kiss.
His lips were so deft, so tender. One kiss, then another, hesitant, like he didn’t know what she wanted, or whether she wanted at all. She responded, tasting him, hot and delicious, all the sweeter now that she let herself
feel
.
She climbed onto him, kissing him harder. He wrapped one wing over her, so warm and velvety, spilling that gorgeous toffee scent, and when his tongue found hers at last she gave a soft little moan of delight. Her breasts ached against his warm silver. Only her towel came between them, and the metal’s hard smoothness inside his delicate feathery cocoon made her shiver with fearful desire. Such a strong, unyielding, frightening creature. His touch delighted and terrified her at the same time.
He kissed her deeper, rougher, a growl rising in his throat, and rolled her beneath him, pulling her thigh up around his.
Feeling his hard body atop her, between her thighs, made her dizzy with need. He was so big. So male. Already she ached for him, afire. She was naked under the towel. How good he would feel next to her, searing skin on skin…
She slid her arms around his neck and lost herself in his brain-melting kisses. His tongue claimed hers, stroking her to sweet fever, and when he slipped his hand beneath her towel to cup her ass, she groaned and pressed into him. His fingertips
teased her, delving deeper towards her secret places but never quite touching, and her wetness ached and flowered, longing for him.
At last, he pulled back, with a groan of protest. He was breathing hard. So was she. His eyes flamed dark with desire, and passion-drunk sparks danced like fireflies from his wings. “Do you trust me?”
Her nerves spiked in warning, and she struggled for breath, her pulse racing. His scent bewitched her. His kisses intoxicated her with longing. If he touched her any more, she’d lose control. “Umm. Lune. I…”
“It’s okay.” He kissed her again, tender, so hot, drawing desire from deep inside. Not a threat. Just a tease, a sultry promise of delirium. “We don’t have to…y’know. If you don’t want to.”
Right. Like any woman could not want to right now. Her laugh turned to a soft moan as he licked burning kisses down to her collarbone. “No, I…it’s just…” She swallowed, trembling. The fear in her heart wasn’t rational or right. But it paralyzed her, made her want and shiver and cringe at the same time. “I’m afraid, Lune.”
He trailed his hair over her shoulder, closing his eyes on a sigh. “Don’t be. Just…let me love you.” And he did, teasing her skin aflame with openmouthed kisses. He tasted her throat, her shoulder, inside her elbow. Heat tingled deep inside her, stroking her to fresh desire. He was so tender, she ached. And when he nuzzled her towel aside, baring her breast to his mouth, she gasped and arched her back, the wicked promise of his kiss blinding her.
“Heaven, I love your breasts. They’re so soft. So hot.” At last his tongue found her nipple, the nub so hard and sensitive she groaned. He suckled her, softly, then harder, the tension winding tight all the way down to her sex, and then he bit her gently and she sobbed, it felt so good.
But her treacherous nerves shrieked foul, clenching cold on the swelling knot of need in her belly. Everything about her feelings for him screamed of lies and cruel seduction. He couldn’t be this true, this good, this passionate and desirable and mad for her. She wasn’t that special. This golden sunshine on her heart couldn’t be real…
The ugly fear that coiled deep in her soul sniggered in scaly
black delight.
What did you think, Morgan? Of course it isn’t real. Are you mad, trusting your feelings like that? He’s using you. Just wants to fuck you. And when you wake from this lust-drunk dream, he’ll laugh and betray you…
She fought back, determined.
No, demon. You’re lying. This is real. Dive back into the stinking pit you crawled from, and leave me be.
“Morgan?” Lune’s whisper tingled her skin, his lips brushing her breast. “You okay?”
She sighed, triumphant. “Lune, I am so much better than okay. Love me.”
She crushed his silky black hair in her fists, pulling him onto her, her blood afire for him. He took her other nipple, torturing her until she whimpered with pleasure. Her flesh ached, damp and hot. Every touch of his lips and tongue made tension crush tight inside her, and she groaned in amazed delight. The way he made her feel, so strong and beautiful, like nothing could ever hurt her again.
It couldn’t be a lie.
She gasped and shuddered, and gave herself up to his glory. “Yes, Lune, more.”
But with a final teasing suckle, he let her go, and claimed another dark and glittering kiss that stole her breath. White light flashed, and in a dizzy instant she was on her back beneath him in the soft dark cushions of his loft. Moonlight spilled over them, and his wings shone. His blue eyes glowed with desire. His hot scent dizzied her. He fluttered to his knees, and started to unbuckle his armor.
Morgan swallowed, dry. “Don’t.”
He halted, shuddering. “Shit. Sorry. Am I going too fast? I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” She inhaled deeply, letting her courage breathe. She’d made her decision. Surrendered to this powerful heat. And she wouldn’t just let it happen to her like a scared little girl. She didn’t just want a taste of this new freedom. She wanted to drown in it. Drown in him. “Just…let me.”
His gaze smoldered indigo, and he gently guided her hands to his buckles. The silver slid smoothly under her fingertips, warm with his body heat. The soft leather straps slipped easily from the buckles, two on each side, and he dragged the armor
off over his head, mussing his damp hair. Underneath he wore his light undershirt, pale and perfect, all the sweat and demonslime burned away by that cleansing flash of glory.
For a moment, her stubborn mind jumbled.
Heaven’s light. Angel. Wild. Crazy. Unbelievable.
But for these few precious moments, she was crazy, too. It didn’t hurt, or shame her. It was wonderful. Dizzying, like a glowing rainbow in her heart.
She swallowed, nervous, and slipped her hands under the thin pale cloth. Smooth, hot male skin over hard-packed muscle and bone. She traced the elegant lines of his stomach muscles, caressing the ridges leading to his hips, tracing the hard curves under his tight leather pants. His breath grew ragged at her touch, and he caught her hands, kissing them like fever. “Behave, sweetie, or this’ll be over way too soon.”
She tugged his shirt upwards, and he stretched and vanished his wings, letting her slide it off. When he shimmered back to reality in a wash of hot breeze, her throat stoppered. The moonlight loved him, pouring over his luminous skin, shadowing his muscles, glowing on his sparking feathers and dissolving into the silky blackness of his hair. God, he was beautiful. Perfect. Frightening.
He gave a flashburn smile at her scrutiny. “Like what you see?”
She laughed, breathless. “Cocky much, angel?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Oh, yes. I like it very much.”
His shoulder muscles flexed, like he wanted to grab her. But he just knelt astride her, and glided his fingertips over the towel that still wrapped her waist. “Do you want to, or shall I?”
Muscles deep inside her clenched, aroused. She was naked underneath. He’d already seen her, of course. Too much of her. But she still flushed at the dark desire in his eyes as she tugged the towel aside.
At the sight of her, golden flame licked his feathers. He growled, and raked hungry teeth over his lip. Heat scorched up from her belly to the top of her head, embarrassment and desire warring a hot battle in her veins. “Like what
you
see?”
“Let me show you how much.” He climbed up her, letting her feel every hard-muscled inch of his body, and began to kiss her.
First her mouth, deep and slow and soulful, his tongue
wrapping hers, exploring, claiming her. His dark-sweet flavor enticed her, and she sucked on his tongue, trying to get more of him inside her. His fingers wrapped her wrists, pressing them into the cushions, and he eased himself against her lightly, stroking, full body contact. She shivered, her desire igniting. His power over her sparkled hot longing deep inside her. So safe and warm and strong.
He trailed burning kisses along her jaw, under her chin, down her neck where her pulse beat hot. He lingered, tasting her skin, licking the sensitive spot beneath her ear. He nipped her earlobe, and she gasped, a hot sting of pleasure.
He kissed her shoulder, seared his tongue along her collarbone, nuzzled between her breasts until they ached for his mouth. God, was it hot in here? She was weak, dizzy, wet and sore between her legs. His touch, his scent, the tightness of his grip made her burn.
He lifted her wrists above her head, and held them there, his weight pressing her down. The new tension in her muscles drove her wild. She twisted, arching her back, begging for his lips on her.
“You like that?” A secret smile against her lips.
Oh, God. She did like it. Liked him holding her down, making her his own. “Uh-huh.”
Lightly, carefully, he wrapped her hands with his shirt and knotted them to the bedpost over her head.
Her pulse shot wild, warping her desire into fear. Trapped. Vulnerable. “Lune—”
“Shh. Trust me. If you don’t like it, say so.” And he tortured her body with caresses, trailing lips and fingers and silken feathers over her shoulders, her hips, the curve of her belly, the soft insides of her thighs, all the way down to her toes and back again.
By the time he finished, she trembled uncontrollably, her skin aflame with every whisper, the fiery ache between her legs a torment. Tears swelled her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d wanted to keep in control. But this was beyond control. He made her ache and burn and thirst for things she hadn’t allowed herself to want since…since forever.
Things like love. Affection. Surrender. The other half of herself she’d always denied.
He sucked one nipple in deep, and she cried out. His tongue felt so good, her nipple so fat and hard in his mouth. Tension built rapidly inside her, and the bindings only intensified the pleasure. And when he nudged her legs apart and caressed one light finger over her, sultry storm light flashed through her veins and she shuddered and cried and let the pleasure take her.
After what seemed like minutes, the shocks subsided, and she gasped for breath, her flesh tingling. Her heart ached, too, and she tried to brush it aside.
Don’t be stupid. It’s just sex. The man brings you to one orgasm and you think it means he gives a shit.
But the warmth deep in her soul couldn’t be denied.
He licked his way down her body, tasting her, and pushed her legs up to bite into the backs of her thighs, growling as he did so. She gasped, aroused again by his passion.
And he coaxed her legs apart and kissed her there, just a feather-light brush of his lips. He stroked her with his tongue, teasing her sensitive bud out of hiding and tormenting it until she moaned. And then, when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he circled her entrance with a fingertip and slid his big finger in deep.
She writhed, pleasure breathless, wanting to feel him everywhere. She was so wet, his finger slid right in. To have any part of him inside her felt so damn good, and to have him do it while she was tied up and helpless was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. His tongue teased her straining nub, and he added a second finger, pushing them in and out. Preparing her. She gasped as he stretched her. She recalled his big heavy cock, straining hot in her hands, and shivered in delightful anticipation. She wanted him to open her, claim her, make her tight hot spaces his forever…