Sentinel of Heaven (21 page)

“No need here,”
she responded, braver than she felt.

“No,” he
agreed, “for you will open to me.”

She felt her
heart leap – and something more, faint as a cool mist against her mind.  Moira
forced her muscles to unclench and projected calm and invitation to that
presence.

The sensation
intensified, focused to a point.  She moaned as he came into her
.  What is
sex to a being that can place themselves into your very psyche?
she
thought, distracted by waves of memory and feeling.

He sent back a
ripple of amusement.  “Another pleasant intimacy,” he whispered in her ear.  “Breathe.”

“You told me
that the first night.”

“And for the
same reason, Moira.  I will not move again until you have relaxed.”

She focused on
his slow steady inhalations again, comforted in the warmth of the wing he
stretched over them.  He eased his soul a little deeper, causing her to shudder
with pleasure.  No wonder he'd treated this discourse as if it were taboo; it
was closer than the flesh, deeper than the skin, most intimate of intimacies.

His arms were
around her body.  “Tell me the truth, as you know it.” he insisted.

She showed him
instead, sending tides of sexual longing.

He
acknowledged them soberly and let them move past.

She displayed
the warmth she felt when thinking of him, of his hands, of his eyes, of his
smile.

He viewed it
and set it aside as well.

She unveiled
the memories of being away from him, of craving him; his nearness, his gaze,
his quiet soothing presence.

He let it all
flow away like a river, reaching for her core.

There he found
his goal – a pure white shaft of light to the eyes of the soul.  It had none of
the heat of her other emotions, and none of their cajoling invitation.  It
merely was, and that was sufficient unto itself.

But it stood
in her center, utterly mute, without defense or apology.  It was the axis on
which her internal self had found at last its longed-for balance, and carved on
it was the word she called him, the sum of him to her – LEO.

He drew her
soul around to look at itself.

“This.  This
is where love lives, when all else is stripped away.”

“And you... have
something like this inside you too?”

“Yes.  Moira. 
My love.”

“Then why...”

“Mmm?”

“Why do we
desire physical contact at all?”

He nuzzled at
her, then kissed her gently.  “Because both humans and angels are beings on
multiple planes of existence – physical, emotional, spiritual.  We are joined
now on two levels; when we unite on the last you will be satisfied.”

“And you?” she
murmured.

In answer he
slid between her parted legs and pressed himself against the hollow of her
thigh.

“What do
you
think?” he growled, breath hot on her throat.

“I think that
if you don't take me and soon, I’m gonna kill you,” she responded just as
savagely, twining her hands in his hair.

“As my lover
commands...”

His eyes were
lit with internal fire but his hands were gentle as he eased the cashmere
sweater up her torso.  She arched to pull it off over her head and unfasten her
bra.

“I have waited
to finish what I started, ever since that first night,” he admitted.  “The
sight of you was burned into my brain.”

“Really...”  She
gasped as his hand cupped her breast, thumb rubbing her nipple.  “Tell me about
it.  Let me hear your voice.”

“I hated
myself for having to take my hands off you.  I feared you hated me too.  But my
body would not listen.  It knew what it craved.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”  He
sucked for a long sweet moment at her other breast.  “It was your cry of
pleasure.  It woke my flesh.  I wanted to hear you beg, to hear you groan, to
make you scream with me inside you... and my body would not be quiet without
it.”

“So what did
you do?  Tell me.”

He grinned at
her eagerness, enjoying the game.

“I lay there,
cold and alone, and I took myself in hand...”

His fingers
were at her zipper; she shifted her hips and let him tug off her pants and
underwear.

“What did you
think of?” she asked, feeling dizzy and flushed.

“You.  Like
this.  Spread for me.  I tormented myself with it.”

Moira looked
down – the pillars of his legs did have her thighs widely separated.  She noted
the front of his pants tenting, straining the fabric, a dot of wetness at the
crown that must be his own arousal.

“How?  How
were you tormented?”

“I thought of
the softness of your breasts, and how sweet your flesh would taste,” and here
he indulged himself for several minutes, pinching and twisting and lightly
suckling, covering each globe with the sliding friction of a dozen kisses until
she was panting quietly.

“And then?”
she begged.

“Then?  I
remembered your scent, your secret scent... how delicious it was and what it
meant.”

“Hmmm?”

“That your
body was doing its best to get ready for me, and how I longed to oblige it. 
Slowly, at first...”

On his hands
and knees over her, he reached down and stroked the dewy curls covering her
privates.  He flicked his finger gently between her lips, teasing her.  She
clung to his shoulders and groaned.

“Yes... I
thought you would make that sound.  Even better when I would do
this
.”

The calloused
pad of his thumb sought her clitoris.

“Yes,” he
purred, rubbing her slowly.  “I knew that scent from the first time I saw you
naked – why do you think I stood behind the wall?  So you would not see what
you were doing to me.”

“Even my
scars?” she had to ask.

“Yes, even
your scars – no more and no less than the rest of you.  You are a warrior
woman, a survivor and a fighter, the match of me.”

His middle
finger sank lower and curled.  Moira sobbed in growing ecstasy.

He bent to her
ear again.  “There is not a living soul for miles, besides us.  Let me hear
your pleasure.”

She braced
against his legs and pushed her back into the mattress, shifting her hips
restlessly but his hand stayed with her – for a moment her whole body throbbed
to the punishing rhythm his fingers set and then she was coming, crying his
name shamelessly.

“Yes,” he told
her, his voice becoming rough with lust.  “Just how I thought you would sound
in your extremis, your little death.  You incite me with your every aspect. 
Feel your body trying to draw me in now?  I meditated on that, as I lay there
alone.  Every quiver of those muscles around me.”

He was working
her again and again she was climaxing, gasping meaningless syllables.

“Over and
over, imagining that beautiful agony that would chain my very soul and make me
your slave and I came in my fist like a fledgling, like a boy who had never
known a woman.”

She wrapped her
arms around her head, overcome.

“I told you
the truth – I do not have to eat to live,” he was saying, “but I partake of
many things simply because I enjoy the taste, as I did today...”

Then his
hands, gently lifting her hips.  For once her back wasn't bitching at all but
she had no time to wonder at it because he was settling on his chest between
her thighs and bringing her to his mouth.

It was slyly
sensual, this way; less intense than his demanding hands but no less pleasing. 
The bliss spread its warm honey throughout all her limbs and she basked in it,
rocking lightly on his lips and tongue, her fingers in his hair like a
benediction.  When she orgasmed again it was long and deep and she was groaning
oh god oh god oh god until she shivered like a willow in a high wind.

Leo pressed
his mouth to the inside of her thigh.  “God is not here now, only myself,” he
told her wickedly.  “Say your angel, say your ‘Leo’ instead.”

“Oh Leo, my
Leo, my angel,” she sighed in bliss.  “I was wrong; your tongue is murderous.”

“I have
something else that may revive you,” he answered, and tugged his pants down
until he could crawl out of them.  He lay down beside her and held her loosely,
letting her feast her gaze.  Her hands soon followed where her eyes had roamed
and she was gripping his flesh, exploring with her fingertips.

The musk of
his skin mixed with her own aroma... she kissed him deeply, felt him shudder
when she tightened her grip.  Beads of his lubricant flowed down and wet her
rising hand, turning everything slick and slippery.

Then she was
slithering down in the blankets, eager to taste him and take him in her mouth. 
The velvety tip of his cock was ambrosial between her lips; he sighed and
gathered her head against him, holding her lightly, letting her thrust him
deeper and draw him back again, circling with her tongue.

With that
tingling buzz of pleasure and satisfaction filling the space between her legs
she set a pace she could have kept all afternoon long.  A soft groan poured out
of his mouth like music to her ears. He shifted his hips and shuddered.

Then his hands
were pulling her away.  “Some other day,” he was hissing as he urged her onto
her back, his eyes dark and dilated, “some other day or perhaps tonight and you
may do that forever, you may do that a year and a day but I intend to have you
entirely, and soon!”

“Then take me,”
she suggested softly.  He looked down into her eyes and steadied himself,
smiling again.

“Take me,
angel,” Moira said, loving the sound of it.

Leo folded
himself cross-legged between her knees, wrapping her hips in his powerful hands
and pulling her towards him, always mindful of her old injuries.  Her legs fell
around his waist; he shifted her over his ankles and settled her nearly into
his lap.

His face held
such a charming look of concentration.  She watched his furrowed brow instead
of his hands where they acted to position himself and guide their bodies
together.  At the feel of that longed-for intrusion she squirmed and gasped. 
He held her captive, looking at her from under his lashes.

“Breathe,” he
whispered, but his own voice was hoarse.  She gripped his wrists.

“Mmmmm baby...
oh angel, you are huge...”

“We shall go
slow,” he promised.

The fires were
devouring her sanity; what was it about him that would make the having as bad
as the wanting?  Nothing was enough; even the feel of their bodies completely
united only made her crave it more.   Little motions of her hips against him
were all she could manage but they did the job; between the pressures outside
and in she found the cliffs and flung herself from the heights again.  Better,
far better still when the first clench of her orgasm hit and she felt him stir
deep inside her and his voice was gasping her name, his eyes squeezed shut and
the muscles of his abdomen trembling, pulsing.

“Oh my love,
my beautiful love, you're coming...” she breathed in wonder.

He nodded
blindly, reaching out to gather her up in his arms against his chest; the angle
of their connection changed and she bucked again against that turgid girth, startling
a deep moan out of him.

They clung to
each other until they could surface again.  He was murmuring like a man talking
in his sleep, an exquisite liquid language she'd never heard before. 

“Leo... are
you okay?” 

He nodded;
caressing her face tenderly.  “Words of my home... Operandis, the language of Provenance...
could not think in English then.”

“What did it
mean?”

He exhaled
softly.  “Your... your name is writ on my soul,” he translated, his heart in
his blue eyes.

“Oh, my
love...”  She kissed him in return, overwhelmed.  “I wish we could keep going;
I've never felt so much need with anyone else.  I can't get enough of you,
baby.”

“Keep going?”
he asked.  His expression turning imperious.  “Why would we stop?”  And he
bucked against her, still as hard inside her as he had been.

“Oh my God!”

“Many
differences between men and angels,” he said, suddenly all mischief, “but one
of them is one I share with you – no limit to my climaxes.  I can continue to
take my ease in you for as long as we desire.”

“Oh, you
angel....”

“And there is
still another thing.”  Leo wrapped his wings around them both and reached into
her mind, reawakening the connection and opening it on both sides.  He slid his
hands under her knees and lifted her, her back falling into the crux of his
wings and supported there as if on any other limbs... then he lowered her bare
millimeters at a time, sinking deep inside again.

The shiver
that racked him at the sensation – she felt it as keenly in her veins.  She
wrapped her left arm around the back of his neck, pulling him close, slipping
her other hand to the join of her thighs right above where he penetrated.

“Empathy as a
weapon, mmm?” She could feel his hands kneading her shoulders, his short
fingernails raking against her skin.

“No one around
for miles, my love?  Let me hear
your
pleasure.”  She was quivering
again and the low groan in his throat became a growl that broke as he gasped
for breath.  He wasn't able to move his hips as much as he wanted in this
seated position, a fact that had him twitching with frustration.

“You
will
be
repaid for this, my lady,” he grated. She tested her back – still good,
amazingly – and then began to move against him, flicking her hips, riding him.

“Hold me...
help me... I'll get us both there...”

His arms like
steel bars behind her back, bracing as she twisted and bent; he pressed a kiss
onto the top of her head.  She set her heels against his hips on either side
and folded her legs tight; her knee nearly gave but it was worth it.  The
ridges of his cock caught on that sweet spot inside her and she came with a
hoarse cry, feeling the spasm inside him as well, and then a feedback loop that
nearly made her black out.