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Authors: alysha Ellis

Send Me An Angel

BOOK: Send Me An Angel
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www.darkedenpress.com

 

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

 

Send Me an Angel Copyright© 2007
Alysha
Ellis

Edited by Colleen Simpson

Cover art by Missy Hanson

 

Electronic book Publication: August 2007

 

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Dark Eden Press, Inc.®
8824 Jeanes Lane
,
Alvarado
,
TX
76009

 

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Send Me an Angel

 

 

Alysha
Ellis

Prologue

 

He was an angel born in heaven. As such, he was a very rare being indeed.
Angels
do not indulge in the kind of activities that result in the birth of children, but his mother, Seraphina, had always been a bit of a rebel. Not wild enough, it’s true, to follow Lucifer and his band when they staged their revolt, but constantly restless and chafing against the rules. On an illicit visit to earth, she met the divinely handsome
Michael
.

What followed was an intense and passionate affair, which only ended when both of them were recalled to heaven, to face an inquiry. For
Michael
, like Seraphina, was an angel.

The upper management levels recited the rules about fraternization, outlined the consequences of such misdemeanors, and announced themselves completely unsurprised when Seraphina found she was pregnant.

From the moment her son was born, however, all censure, all sternness, all reproach, melted away in the warm glow of the love every celestial being felt for the infant. True, the Supreme Being did insist on the baby being called
Peter
, in the hopes, He said, that the name of the oldest and most awesome of angels would somehow negate the rebelliousness of both parents. But no-one who laid eyes on baby
Peter
ever thought of strict adherence to the rules, or stoic self-righteousness.

He had golden curls, eyes the pure blue of heavenly skies, and a smile like the sun coming out from behind clouds. The Italian painter,
Botticelli
, having been blessed with heavenly visions as his muse, caught sight of the infant
Peter
in a dream, and the memory of it shaped the appearance of the cherubs in his paintings thereafter.

Peter
was the adored pet of cherubim and seraphim, of archangel and saint. The smattering of freckles across his nose, the tousled curls, and the mischievous grin of boyhood, saved him a myriad of scoldings. How could you be angry at someone who made you smile just to see him, no matter how many feathers he’d plucked from your wings?

Peter
’s teenage years lasted, as was customary, an eon or more. Divine influence ensured such unpleasantness as acne, moodiness and the first stirrings of lust, by-passed the boy completely.

He approached the long years of his adulthood, happy, serene and content with the job assigned to him. His sunny disposition, his appealing good looks, and his willingness to listen attentively, made him the ideal counselor and comforter of those unable to let go of their earthly attachments.

No-one predicted that Peter, listening all day, year in and year out, to people mourning the loss of loved ones and earthly pleasures, even in the face of the delights heaven had to offer, would gradually become aware of an insatiable curiosity to find out for himself exactly what was so attractive about life on earth.

The yearning to know burned within him. It itched and bothered him like a fire under the skin. The rebelliousness he had inherited from his parents stirred and flexed. It pushed him through the pearly gates. It lured him to the very edge of heaven.

He leaned over the brink, looked back over his shoulder at the only place he had ever known, reached behind him, unfastened his wings, and fell.

 

 

Chapter One

 

Wow. Ellie knew it was her birthday, but, in thirty-two years, this was the first time anyone had ever given her a naked man – a beautiful naked man, who looked like he’d been created by some benevolent god, just to give women pleasure.

She was astonished that any of her friends would have had the nerve to pull off a trick like this. Ellie was not noted for her flexibility, or her tolerance of the unexpected. She had rules, and she didn’t bend them for anyone. Surely her friends knew her first reaction would be to call the police.

Some sort of decisive action was definitely called for. After all, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence to open your front door and find someone curled up, fast asleep and naked, on the top step. At the moment, though, he was harmless, so she took a moment to think. After all, there was that saying about
not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Although, that wasn't quite right because she wasn't looking anywhere near his mouth.

He groaned – a deep, painful sound wrenched from somewhere deep inside him. It shouldn’t have made her shiver with delight, but it did.

He moved, dragging himself into a crouch. Ellie completely forgot about calling the police. Her breath caught in her chest, her eyes widened, her lips pulled together and opened again with a decidedly lustful, smacking sound.

She clapped a hand over wayward mouth. What was she thinking? How could the sight of one man, no matter how outstandingly, amazingly gorgeous he was, so completely scramble her normally no-nonsense, decisive brain?

The man raised himself onto one knee. His forearm was draped across his other thigh. Ellie’s no-nonsense brain went into shock. To get from the sight of that one knee, to the opposite thigh, her eyes had to take a long, scenic journey. And in the middle of that journey, she stopped. And stared. And smiled.

Tie it up with a big red bow, because that package was
hers
. Can we all sing,
Happy Birthday to Ellie
?

Her birthday present braced himself on his other arm. The sight of the powerful curve of his shoulder muscles, the flex and bulge rippling all the way down to where his thumb and forefinger strained to push him up, almost took Ellie’s attention away from his penis, which hung, thick and inviting, between his muscular thighs.

Her breath caught in her lungs. Her entire attention was riveted on the man in front of her. She’d get to the bottom of this mystery…later. If her friends had set her up, someone would die, but not right now. Right now she was having trouble even thinking.

The stranger raised his head, and his celestial blue eyes looked straight into hers. Somewhere in the distance Ellie heard the sound of harps being gently stroked. A sensation of absolute peace, absolute rightness overwhelmed her.

Control-freak Ellie, who needed everything and everyone to be slotted into the right place and stay there, fell right into those cerulean pools and forgot thirty-two years of caution, prudence and control.

He smiled and her knees sagged. Her back slid down the door jamb as she dropped to the floor.

He instantly scrambled to his knees, his hand reaching out to hold hers.

“Are you hurt? Have I frightened you?”

Ellie shook her head dazedly, “Not frightened. No,” she stopped, swallowed hard, and began again, “Who are you? Where have you come from, and what on earth are you doing, naked, on my doorstep?”

He looked around him, and then turned those amazing eyes back to Ellie, “On Earth. Yes, I am on Earth.”

Ellie had almost staggered to her feet, but the impact of his gaze made her wobble. Instantly his arms were around her. It brought his body into close contact. His naked body brushed hard up against hers as he supported her.

He yelped once, and jumped back. He looked into the small space between them, eyes wide with horror. “What is it doing? How do I stop it?” Fear made his voice husky, “How big is it going to get?”

Ellie looked down and smiled wickedly. His penis, impressive even at rest, was swelling and growing. It was an awe-inspiring sight, but he didn’t seem to appreciate it. He pulled his hands up, well away from his groin. His face was pale and tense, “Please, what’s happening to me?”

The comment achieved what nothing else could. It snapped Ellie’s fascinated eyes upwards. What she saw there confused her completely. This wasn’t a joke. The man was truly bewildered, and, if her judgment was correct, frightened. How could a fully-grown man be afraid of his own equipment? Had he lived his whole life in a monastery? She couldn’t come up with any plausible explanations.

There was only one way to find the answers. She assumed her best
don’t-mess-with-me
look. The Ellie-glare had cowed everyone who’d ever been subjected to it. In a voice that could make grown men tremble, she attacked, “What are you doing here? Naked, and on my doorstep.”

The man didn’t even flinch. His eyes were still transfixed by his penis. The distraction of Ellie’s questions had stopped its awesome progress to full rigidity. As the potential hard-on subsided, the worry left his face and his attention returned to Ellie. “I fell.”

“Fell? Fell from where?” She gazed up at the empty sky. “And why does it involve being naked?”

He stood there looking at her. She glared back until the sound of a motor coming down the street jolted her into action. No matter who he was, or where he’d come from, she couldn’t leave him standing, naked, on her front step.

She opened her door, and dragged him inside. Considerations of personal safety were less important than her standing in the neighborhood.

He was in her living room. Tall. Blond. Gorgeous. Naked. With his tempting body so blatantly on display, Ellie couldn’t think. She snatched a rug from the back of the lounge, and threw it at him. “Here. Wrap this around you. And tell me who you are, and what you’re doing here, or I’ll call the police.”

The man smiled his astonishing smile again. Ellie shook her head to rid it of the persistent sound of distant harps.

“My name is
Peter
. I am an angel. I fell.”

A stripper-gram. That had to be it. One of her friends, maybe a whole bunch of them together, had sent her a stripper gram, and somehow the poor guy had started his routine too early, and had fallen and knocked himself out on her step, and now he was suffering post-traumatic confusion.

Of course, if her friends had had the temerity to send her a stripper-gram, they’d have been here to watch her get it. There would be some clothes scattered about. The man had to strip out of something, after all. His car should be parked in front of her house. And no man who had ever worked as a stripper was going to be afraid of a hard-on.

Then she thought about what he’d said. An angel? He couldn’t be. Could he?

“Why did you say you were an angel?”

“Because I am. Or was. I’m not any more. Not since I fell.”

“Knocking yourself out on my doorstep stopped you from being an angel? That’s a bit harsh isn’t it? Whose decision was that?”

He blinked. It occurred to Ellie her tone
was
a bit sharp, especially when contrasted with his melodious voice. “You’ve got it back to front,” he said. “I landed on your doorstep because I stopped being an angel.”

Ellie shook her head so hard she wondered if he could hear her brains rattle. “You get kicked out of heaven, and end up on my doorstep? Why me? Since when has my house been the gateway to Hell?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t get kicked out of Heaven. I chose to leave. And I’m certainly not on my way to Hell. I don’t have a clue why it was your doorstep I landed on, though,” he gave her a wide appreciative grin. “Just good luck, I guess.”

Ellie had had enough. She pushed him down on the lounge, and strode off to her room. It was at moments like these, a girl had to call her best friend. One, to find out if she was responsible, and two, to do something Ellie never did – ask for advice. A naked angel from heaven was not something they taught you how to cope with in school.

Except that her best friend,
Jeanne
, wasn’t answering her phone. Ellie tried and tried, but the out-of-service message just kept droning on. With no more idea of what to do than when she left, Ellie walked back into the room.

And stopped dead. She could not have moved if her life depended on it.

Her angel was still exactly where she’d left him, on the couch. But he was leaning back, the covering blanket slipped from his shoulders. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open.

The bulging pads of his chest muscles stood out, and she could see the faint sprinkling of hair that narrowed into a thin line flowing down the groove between the hills and valleys of a perfect six-pack.

After that, words failed her, because, oh –m-my – g-god. His fist clutched the base of the most delicious, most enormous eye-popping, mouth-watering cock to ever grace the earth.

His hand moved. Just an exploratory stroke. Up and down. He groaned. Ellie felt her skin burn. Felt the hot clenching in her own groin. Felt the moisture pool.

He tightened his fist, and his cock leaped in his hand. His other hand reached down between his legs, cupping his balls. He groaned again. Louder, more desperate. His breath huffed out in short, sharp bursts. The hand gripping his cock moved faster and faster, up and down, squeezing rhythmically. The other hand stroked his balls.

It was the most wildly erotic thing Ellie had ever seen. She leaned up against the door jamb. Her own hand crept to touch her clit, through her clothes.

The more his back arched up off the couch, she harder she rubbed herself.

A drop of pre-cum glistened and tantalized at the tip of his cock. Her mouth went dry with longing to lick it off, but nothing on earth could have made her legs support her long enough to get her there.

His balls contracted. He moaned, once, as if his soul was being torn from his body, and his cock pulsed in a series of spasmodic jerks. Creamy-white cum erupted in spurts. It splashed over his chest, decorating his awesome six-pack like whipped cream.

Ellie’s fingers pushed hard against her clit. She felt waves of orgasm surge over her, beating and pulsing. Her legs sagged, and she slid onto the floor.

The lust-induced fog cleared when he sighed. Loudly.

Ellie rolled shakily onto her knees, and crawled over to him.

She knew her face was bright red. She could feel the flames heating her cheeks.

It didn’t stop the throb between her legs. It didn’t stop the almost unconquerable desire to straddle his body and lick him clean.

What did stop her was the look of stunned satisfaction on his face.

He turned dazed eyes to her. “That was sex?” His face glowed with the power of his smile. “That was the most wonderful thing. It was worth my fall to earth.”

He suddenly leaned over, and studied Ellie’s face closely. He touched her cheeks, and then lifted his fingers to his own, where the red flags of sexual excitement still flew. “Did you do sex, too?” He thought for a moment. “I would like to see that. Is it possible to perhaps do it together, do you think?”

Ellie almost laughed, but it came out as a queer little moan. “That was a
part
of sex. A type of sex. But, most people prefer it when it’s done together. It’s, um, generally held to enhance the experience.”

“Make it better?” His incredulity was obvious. If it were possible for that deep, harmonious voice to squeak, it would have. “It can get better than that? How? Show me?”

“I don’t think anyone needs to show you anything. For a man who, ten minutes ago, was afraid of his own hard-on, how did you come, if you’ll pardon the expression, to do that?” She licked her lips, and pointed to the droplets of semen still clinging to the light golden hairs on his chest.

He looked down, his face a mixture of bemusement and satisfaction. He trailed one finger through a little blob of cum, “My penis felt funny, and I thought rubbing it might make it feel better.” The golden smile gleamed out again. “And it did. Much better. Although not in the way I had intended.” He raised his finger to his nose and sniffed. A frown creased his perfect brow, “Is it dangerous that I have leaked like this?”

Ellie smothered a snort of laughter. “It’s perfectly natural. Surely this can’t be a complete surprise to you.”

“Well, I knew sex happened. I just didn’t know how it happened.” As he spoke, he absently grabbed a corner of the blanket that had fallen from his shoulders, and dabbed at his chest.

“Eeeew. Don’t you dare.” Ellie snatched the blanket away. “Into the shower- now.”

She shoved him into the shower cubicle. “You do know
how
to shower, don’t you?”

His bottom lip poked out in a very sexy way. “Of course I know how to shower. We are very clean in Heaven.”

Water cascaded over the muscled planes of his body, making them glisten. It was almost impossible for Ellie to walk away. But she gritted her teeth, and bit her lip, and, mustering more resolve than she thought possible, she left the room.

She muttered to herself as she wandered through the house. She would not jump his bones. She could not have sex with someone who turned up naked at her door. She knew nothing about him. He might be a homicidal maniac. Okay, she didn’t believe that for a second, but it was possible. Maybe she’d better go back and check up on him. Just to make sure he wasn’t stealing the soap. The soap he’d be rubbing over his glistening, gleaming body. Ellie clamped down harder on her lip.

She forced her reluctant legs to carry her on into the kitchen. She absently wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, and sat down to think.

She needed to know more about him. She was not the kind of person who had sex with total strangers. In fact if recent trends were any indication, she was not the sort of person who had sex at all.

It was so long since she’d been with anyone, she didn’t even have a condom in the house. In spite of what her friends said, she did not believe it was being excessively cautious to throw out the last condoms in the drawer because they had almost reached their use-by date.

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