Fallen Angel (Hqn) (16 page)

Ah, but her hands were even better as they made their way over his stomach, then lower. And when she brushed that swollen flesh, lightly, teasing, he went impossibly harder, his hips jerking.

She took him between her palms, her skin like warm satin, enveloping him, and she began to stroke, up, then down. Her hands were like a sheath around his swollen shaft, sending long shivers of pleasure spiraling into his belly.

He drew a breath in, blew it out, pumping his hips into her palms. Too good, but he never wanted her to stop. He wanted to stay in this dream with her forever.

He wanted to feel more than her hands. He wanted to feel her lush body crushed beneath him. To fill his hands with her gorgeous breasts, to take her nipples into his mouth, making them hard and long, grazing them with his teeth. He wanted to slip inside her, to feel that wet heat. To
have
her. Make her his.

Angel…

Her hands grasped him tighter, squeezed, then released him and he moaned in a flurry of sensation: pleasure and aching and
need.

Need you, Angel…

She whispered his name again; he could swear he heard her. He wanted to figure it out, where it was coming from. But he felt her breath warm on his skin, then her sweet mouth taking him in. He was lost.

His climax hit so hard and fast, he was dazed by it. Blinded, as pleasure poured through his system like the ocean: that pure, that powerful. He arched up into her hot, seeking mouth, pressing again and again between her lips. Her tongue swirled against him, drawing his climax out endlessly. Finally, she pulled away, leaving him empty. Cold.

He needed her.

“Angel…”

“Declan.”

“What?”

He sat up. They were in his bed, the moonlight shimmering through the curtains, striping the room in light and shadow. But he could see her clearly, her naked body kneeling next to his, her long hair like a veil around her shoulders, flowing over the curve of her breasts.

He was still pulsing with his orgasm, his cock thrumming, his body hot. And she was really there. In his bed, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

He was shaking. What the hell had just happened? What had he let happen?

“Angel. What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to make you happy. To show you there is no reason to deny your desires. Or mine. Have I not made you happy? Your body is happy. But I still need you, Declan. I need you to touch me.”

“Jesus, Angel. I can’t believe this.”

“I’m real. I’m a woman, Declan, not a child. And I want you.”

She took his hand, and before he knew what she was going to do, she held his palm to her breast.

Her flesh was warm, her nipple going hard beneath his fingers. He couldn’t force himself to pull away for a moment. When he finally tried to, she held on tighter.

“Please, Declan. Please don’t send me away again. I need you. And you need me. You cannot tell me you don’t.”

It was nearly impossible to think, his brain still half-dazed from coming. But he had to say something. Had to
do
something.

“Angel, this isn’t right. I can’t do this.
We
can’t do this.”

“We already have, Declan. And it was beautiful, as I knew it would be.”

He swore he could feel her pulse beating in the full flesh of her breast as she leaned into his touch.

“I’m here for you. For
you,
Declan. This is where I am supposed to be. You can’t tell me this is wrong. I won’t believe it. I love you, Declan.”

Love.

Jesus. Why did hearing her say that to him make his heart pound right out of his chest? His mind was going a hundred miles an hour. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Angel.”

“You cannot deny you feel something for me.”

He couldn’t.

Goddamn it.

“Of course I do! But this is…I don’t know anymore.”

“Feel this, Declan.” She held his hand closer, crushing her breast beneath their twined fingers. “Feel how my body heats for you. Feel my desire.”

She moved his hand down, over the soft cushion of her stomach. Lower still, in between her thighs. He was helpless to stop her. And when she slipped his fingers into her sweet, wet cleft, he was paralyzed.

“Ah, God…”

She sighed quietly, her breath coming out in a warm puff of air that grazed his cheek like a kiss.

“You are the first man to touch me, Declan. And it is better than anything I could have imagined. Your hand feels so different than mine. Larger. Stronger. And
yours.
”

She held him there, pressed against her mound. His heart was beating wildly. Totally out of control.
He
was out of control. Fucking helpless.

“I need you,” she said again. “I need you to touch me, Declan. I need you to quench this thirst. I feel as if I’ll die of it.”

Holding on to his hand with both of hers now, she slid it back and forth, over her cleft. Her flesh was soaking wet, slippery. And all he wanted was to touch her, taste her.
Have
her.

He knew in his head it was wrong. But his body felt right.

He couldn’t resist any longer. He could not do it.

“Declan, please have me. I will beg you until you do.”

Her hips were undulating against his hand, and he moved then of his own accord, sliding his fingers into her wet heat.

“Oh…” Her voice came out on a soft, whispered sigh.

“Angel.” His voice was gruff, thick with desire in his own ears.

“Yes…”

“I want you.”

“Yes, Declan. Now.”

He came up onto his knees and pulled her close so that they were kneeling face-to-face. She couldn’t begin to describe, even in her own dazed head, what his body felt like against hers. Hot, naked skin, the hard planes of his chest. His hands strong around her waist.

“Closer, Declan. Hold me closer.”

He did, his arms nearly crushing her. She loved it. Craved it. Couldn’t get close enough.

He breathed into her hair and she inhaled his scent—the forest, as always, but darker this time. This time she could smell his desire. She wanted to take him in her mouth once more. She wanted to do everything, every single thing Asmodeus had ever told her about.

Her body was on fire, her heart soaring. When Declan pressed his lips to hers her body surged with a need she’d never had a name for.

Her demon lover had never taught her this. Kissing. She knew what it was, had read about it. But to feel this…

Declan’s soft, soft lips, pressing onto hers. His tongue slipping out to lick at her lips, then opening them. The wet tip touching hers, then twining. So, so sweet. She didn’t understand how his tongue in her mouth could make her feel what she did—as though his tongue were between her thighs. She was wet, hurting with desire.

She arched her hips, pressing hard against his body, and the length of his rigid shaft pushed against her belly.

Soon he would be inside her. Unbearable, to have to wait one more moment. Unbearable, yet exquisite. And the kissing went on and on. Lovely.

He pulled back, his lips moving over her cheek, down her throat, and every single touch was like some tiny climax on her heated skin. She had known desire before, but never like this. She was shaking all over. And as Declan lowered his head, his mouth feathering over the full flesh of her breast, she fell against him, her legs weak, useless.

He laid her down then, murmuring to her. She couldn’t understand what he was saying. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was his hands stroking her skin: her breasts, her belly, even her collarbone, the insides of her arms, her calves. He explored her in a quiet frenzy. And as badly as she wanted to touch him she was unable to move. Unable to do anything but lose herself in response.

His fingers went to her nipples, caressing, teasing, until they were nothing but two hard points of pure sensation. When he moved down to take one nipple into his mouth, it was better than she could have possibly imagined. The pure heat of his mouth, the sucking, sucking. Pleasure was like a knife, stabbing into her body, deep, deeper.

“Declan, yes…”

His hands were on her breasts, pushing them together, and he released one nipple only to take the other. Once more he sucked, softly at first, then harder, and she was so close to coming she could barely stand it. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together to ease the hammering ache there. But instead she parted them, needing to invite him, to feel the night air on her soaking wet cleft.

“Declan,” she whimpered. “I need you.”

He grunted, but she didn’t need words. No, all she needed was his hands rough on her skin, finding her thighs, spreading them wider. Then his hair brushing the insides of her thighs as he bent over her sex.

He paused and she heard him breathe her in, making her shudder with a quickly spiraling desire. Her hands fisted in the sheets, knowing what he was about to do.

When she felt just the warmth of his breath between her thighs, she pulled in a long draft of the cool night air. And when his tongue flicked out, she gasped. He pressed his tongue to her clitoris and held it there. One exquisite heartbeat, then two. Then another. And she thought she might die if he didn’t
move.

“Declan. Kiss me.”

One long, sweet stroke of his tongue and she was hovering on that keen edge. Her hands went into his hair, impossibly soft, adding another layer of sensation. His fingers held the lips of her sex apart, opening her to his tongue. He pressed it against her, then pushed it inside, and she cried out, her hips arching.

His hands, his mouth, hard and soft, all at the same time. And she was dizzy with sensation. Drowning in it.

His tongue pushed into her again, withdrew. His thumbs went to her hard clitoris, circling it, pressing, pressing, his tongue thrusting. A few more strokes and a blaze went off in her head, her body. She shook as she came, her hips bucking. Declan held on to her, pleasure thundering through her like a storm cloud.

When she stopped shaking he moved up over her body and she spread her thighs for him.

“Declan,” she gasped, “come into me. Please.”

He groaned, rolled off her, and she wanted to cry as he turned away to dig in the nightstand drawer. But he was back in a moment, poised over her on his knees, the muscles in his thighs strong and taut.

“What is it, Declan?”

“This is to protect you.”

“From you?”

“Yes. Trust me, Angel.”

“I do.”

She watched as he opened the small packet with his strong, white teeth, took a strange, pale tube out of it and unrolled it onto his hard shaft.

He looked at her then, his gaze on hers. It was as though he were seeing her for the first time in some different way. And she realized that he was finally seeing her as a
woman.
For the first time, she truly felt like one.

She grasped his thighs, loving the texture of his skin, the density of the muscle there, the soft hair.

“Come into me, Declan.”

“You’re sure, Angel? You have to be sure.”

“Only with you.”

His eyes were dark, glittering. His face soft and loose with desire. He reached out, stroked her hair, her cheek, making her heart beat faster. It was a different kind of need, even more powerful than her purely physical desire.

“Love me, Declan.”

His brows drew together and he looked as if he was about to speak. Instead, with a look of awe on his face and with the most tender of hands, he parted her thighs. As he settled his body over hers she drew her legs up, her knees held high on either side of his lean, muscular torso, and waited for him to take the gift she offered him. The one purpose she had spent her life preparing for. It was about to happen. Her heart hammered, her sex clenched in need and anticipation.

“Now, Declan.”

He paused. She shivered, held him tighter. Reaching up, he took her hand, their fingers twining, clasping. He held himself over her, his body pressed to hers. His face was so beautiful. Every feature, every plane. And as she watched his face, and he watched hers, he slipped inside.

There was a tiny piercing pain, like a flash of bright light. Then it was gone. He moved deeper, and pleasure moved with him like a tide. His blue gaze was on hers, blazing even in the dark, and she surged against him, her hips rocking. He moaned.

“Jesus…are you okay, Angel?”

“Yes. Yes. Wonderful. Please don’t stop.”

He pushed deeper, and pleasure was like a long, undulating sigh deep inside her.

“Ah, Declan, yes…”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he panted.

“Yes, I promise. I need you, Declan. I need to feel all of you inside my body.”

He leaned in and kissed her, whispered against her mouth. “Angel, Angel…you feel so damn good. So good…”

He began to really move then, long, slow, lovely thrusts. And she opened her legs, her body, to him, taking him in. Desire poured through her system, that pure, aching need for him filled, then filled again, until she thought she might overflow with it.

His arms went around her waist, and he held her close, changing the angle of his thrust. Unbelievable, how good he felt. She was shivering with pleasure, tensing all over, her legs wrapping around him, across his wide back.

She had never known it would be so exquisite: to feel his body joined with hers. To feel that low, keening bliss, spiraling higher and higher. To be held so tightly in his arms. His scent was everywhere. On his skin. On hers. He pumped into her, his lips going to her throat, latching on, kissing her, his tongue swirling against her skin.

“Declan, I need more.”

He ground harder, driving into her. She hovered at that lovely edge for moments, then fell, tumbling. Her climax was like a fluttering, brilliant light going off behind her eyes, deep in her sex, her belly, her breasts. She cried out. And he held her tighter, drove deeper.

“Angel,” he murmured, his breath warm against her throat. “Love you, Angel…”

“Declan, yes.”

Her heart was like a small hammer in her chest.

He gasped, tensed, his hips arching hard into her. And it was pain and a new kind of pleasure as he came inside her, his entire body pulsing.