Wings of Fire (52 page)

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Authors: Caris Roane

Tags: #Fantasy, Fiction, Occult & Supernatural, Paranormal, Romance

BOOK: Wings of Fire
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But like hell he was going to do this on the floor covered with mud.

He surrounded her with his arms, holding her against him, then with a good old-fashioned piece of levitation he rose up. With her feet dangling off the floor and her arms around his neck, he smiled down into her beautiful face and carried her into the shower.

He hit the lever and got all eight heads to blasting on them both. She took soap and worked over his body. He turned his back to her and had the pleasure of her hands soaping him from head to foot. It felt
cleansing,
even healing.

But when he turned to face her and she started lathering her own chest, he grabbed the bar of soap and growled, “My turn.”

She giggled but the resulting wave of tangerine told him exactly how happy she was about his possession of the soap.

Okay, he was a man, so sue him. He lathered up, let the soap drop to the floor, and put his hands on her extraordinary breasts. She arched her back and his mind spun. His gaze narrowed to the sight of the foamy bubbles drifting over the swell of her skin and parting at the peaked nipple to flow down either side. Oh, God. He pushed her back just a little so that one of the nozzles could aim over her chest and get rid of the soap and the mud and make her skin ready for his mouth.

Two seconds later he bent low, and with one hand supporting her behind her back, the other holding her very large breast, he took the peaked tip into his mouth and sucked.

***

Parisa cried out and clenched deep between her legs. Oh, God. She ached just about everywhere, all around her heart and chest, her nipple, her labia, and in the deep well of her. She hadn’t felt this way before with Medichi and she realized that the decision to let go of independence and embrace love had changed her body’s reactions to the man she’d chosen to be her
breh
… or was it the man the
breh-hedden
had chosen to be her
breh.
Somehow, none of it mattered, only that she belonged to this man with her entire body, heart, and soul.

For that reason, each sensation felt doubled, tripled in intensity. Her body cried out to be filled.

He cradled and suckled her breast and brought little gasps from her throat. She smoothed her hand over his head, the hair beneath her fingers fine and silky, if a little dusty still. He was a feast for her heart, her mind, her hands, her body. And she loved him.

“How about we get cleaned up and move to your bed. I want to be in your bed, Antony, when we go all the way.” He looked up at her, lips sliding away from her breast. A gasp caught in her throat at the sight of her flesh leaving his mouth.

“So, you want to go
all the way
?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She giggled. For a moment, they were like teenagers again. “But you have terra-cotta dust in your hair and I could use one more shampoo.”

Getting clean took a lot longer than it should have. Parisa kept getting lost in Antony’s arms, primarily because he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

She finally escaped him and left the shower. If he wanted her he’d have to get the crème rinse out of his hair.

She dried off, wrapped her hair in a towel, then moved to the bed. She practiced more of her folding as she worked to get the comforter peeled back to a thick bundle at the end of the bed. She almost broke a sweat. She wasn’t sure why this particular power was giving her grief. How the hell could she open a voyeur window, download shield-creation abilities, then destroy a shield, but not be able to fold a stupid comforter off a bed?

Whatever.

Just as she’d gotten the top sheet separated from the bottom sheet—even if it did hang over one of the bedposts—Antony came up behind her and encircled her in his arms. “I think you’re getting better.”

“Right,” she cried. But she turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his waist. “So where were we?”

“Straight to the point. I like that about you.”

She looked down, down his chest and beautiful pecs, down the indentation of his belly button, down the erotic narrow line of hairs that drew her eye lower and lower. He was a hard ridge against her abdomen, and as she leaned back she could see the crown of his cock. Her lips tingled.

“See something you like?” His voice was once more at the bottom of the sea.

She drew back just enough to drift her hand up the length of him. He gasped and hissed.

Then he stepped away from her. “We’d better get down to business or my feet won’t have the power to move in about five more seconds.”

She pivoted on one foot then launched into the air, turning mid-flight so that when she landed on the mattress, she was on her back. Thank goodness she had been quick about it, because he was on top of her at vampire speed, pinning her flat to the bed before she could take a breath.

Time slowed and she took a moment to register everything, the cool of the sheet behind her back, the heat of his body ready to take her, his long wet hair dragging over her warm breasts, the smile that suffused his oh-so-handsome face with love and laughter.

Her heart tightened as she reached out to drag her fingers over his high, strong cheekbones. Was she truly going to do this? Was she going to seal her fate with a warrior-vampire?

“Are we really doing this, Antony?”

He nodded. “Scared?”

“A little but then I look at you and there’s nothing I want more. But what will happen to us? This will change us, won’t it?”

He shrugged as much as he could propped on his forearms. “I don’t know. Kerrick is the same, and so is Marcus, but they both seem better focused as men, as warriors. As for the women, maybe you can answer that better than I can. What I do know is that their powers are stronger and they’ve each made more of a difference in the war. They also have a constant awareness of where the other is physically.”

She nodded. She could see that and accept it. “So we do all three things at once?”

“Body, blood, deep-mind engagement.”

“How do we start?”

He smiled again. “Like this.” He lowered himself slowly onto her and kissed her.

Parisa forgot about her worries over this new thing happening to her. She gave herself to the kiss, to Antony’s beautiful, sensual lips, to the love she could feel in every drift.

I love you
whispered through her mind, confirming what she could already feel.

I love you, too,
she sent.

The weight of him was like heaven. She had always been uncomfortable with her height but not right now, not with Antony stretched out on top of her, his lean muscular thighs pressing into hers, his thick pecs stroking her breasts. Her fingers played with the grooves, swells, and planes of his back.

She shivered when the tips of her fingers found the apertures of his wing-locks moist.

He groaned as his lips plucked at hers. His tongue slid inside and he searched through her mouth. She sucked his tongue as his hips rocked against hers. He was so hard and so big. She slid a hand low and wiggled her fingers beneath his hip. He lifted slightly, giving her room.

She released a heavy sigh as her hand found him and stroked him and loved him. He drew back and looked into her eyes.

“That’s it,” she whispered against his lips. She drew back and met his gaze. “Your eyes. You have a light in your eyes that I adore. I love you Antony, with all my heart. I think I have from the moment I first voyeured you.”

***

Medichi’s chest expanded … again. Her fingers had closed around him, touching him, loving him. He never thought to be undone in this way again. How magical this was, lying against her beautiful body, seeing the admiration in her eyes, knowing he was loved, knowing that his heart had been pierced wide open so he could love again.

He wanted to show her what he felt.

He slid a knee between her thighs and pushed. She opened for him, letting her legs fall wide and his hips slide between. Was there a more vulnerable position for a woman? More open? More trusting? That she trusted him so much pierced him once more.

He guided himself down low and thrust against her opening. She drew up her knees as her body rolled upward in a slow wave of desire.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Such an excellent word. No better in the English language.

He pressed into her, just a little. So wet. So ready for him.

He closed his eyes, savoring. Everything would change from this moment on. But he was ready. He pushed a little more.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she whimpered. He leaned down, kissed her closed eyelids, then drew back. She smiled and looked up at him. “I want to be in your mind as I do this,” he said.

She nodded. His gaze met beautiful amethyst. He settled his mind against hers and gave a little shove.

She smiled as she released her shields so that they fell in one quick tumble. He poured over her mind in a swift, flowing stream. She cried out and even though he had only a couple of inches buried inside her, he felt her clench.

He grunted in response. He was hard as a rock, his balls pulled up tight.

Shit, he could come in a heartbeat.

He took a few settling breaths … then, as he made his way into her body, he began a journey through her mind. She had only lived twenty-nine years, so young, but he saw her life and for the first time truly understood her pain.

He saw the release of her wings for the first time, the panic followed by wonder. He let all the love and compassion he felt for her flow through his mind and layered it over hers. He kissed her and found that her face was wet.

“So much love,” she whispered. “Antony, you make me feel so
full
in every possible way. Antony, my Antony.”

He drew his hips back and pushed and pushed. She cried out and clung to him. She dug her nails into his back. “Yes, yes.” Her hands slid lower and she grabbed his ass hard, pushing as he pushed. A sound like a cry and a groan came out of her.

Antony, Antony, Antony,
swept through her thoughts, which he felt and heard at the same time since he was within her mind. He felt how much she savored him deep.
I could keep you here forever.

I want to stay here forever.

Her eyes opened. To look into her eyes yet be within her mind was a wondrous thing. He kissed her again hard and began to rock into her, pushing, driving, thrusting.

Her cries filled the space between them and he drank them down his throat one after the other.

My turn,
she whispered within his mind.
Let me in.

Yes.
Oh, such an excellent word.

***

Parisa didn’t want to take her hands away from the firm yet erotically movable flesh of his gorgeous ass. But she did, putting her hands on his face as she looked into his eyes. Such beautiful dark brown eyes, almost black in the dimness of the waning afternoon, but always full of that wonderful light.

She had never thought she could love someone so much.

She was
inaccessible
no more.

He smiled and reminded her of what they were doing with a firm thrust of himself deep into her. Her eyes fluttered as she clenched unbidden, as she felt the supreme hard length of him, as pleasure rippled over her abdomen and sent delicious shivers down her thighs.

“Oh” swept out of her lips. He kissed her and took the rest of her breath into his mouth. His sage scent, roughened with a note that was all male, sent more shivers over her body. His presence was a delectable weight in her mind.

Focus.

Yes, she must focus.

Withdraw from my mind,
she sent,
and I’ll follow.

Yes.

Yes, oh, yes.

She felt him begin to pull back and what might have ended in emptiness became a sense of complete penetration as she surged into his head. She felt herself crash over his mind like an enormous ocean wave. She pounded hard then spread out to see, to absorb, to embrace all that he was in his memories.

His body responded. He moved into her harder now and grunted. He no longer kissed her, his head was turned away. He was sweating.

So good,
he sent.
So damn good.

It was her turn to take the ride. She knew she was crying out, her body almost spasming with pleasure as she began to catch glimpses of former battles, former times at the Blood and Bite, even making love with her in the turret room. She wanted to pause and savor but she pressed on, back and back through time, back and back through centuries.

She became lost in the purity of moving through his thoughts, his memories, his experiences, and at the same time feeling his body push into hers. Alternating waves of cold and heat washed through her. Pleasure built on pleasure.

She was panting.

Her mind was flushed with endorphins. She was overwhelmed, overcome. His memories were too much, too wonderful, too horrible. She cried out, uncertain how to continue.

I’m here.
And just like that the confusion dissipated. It was as though in the middle of his mind, he appeared right in front of her. She couldn’t see him but she felt him. She calmed, grew still, rested within his mind.

You okay?

She could hear herself as she laughed.
How many times have you asked me that? Yes, I’m okay. We’re close, though, aren’t we?

Yes.

She drew in a deep breath.
Give me your wrist,
she sent.

He unhinged his elbow. The moment she felt his skin beneath her mouth her fangs emerged. She didn’t think. She struck. As his blood touched her lips and moved into her mouth she cried out and began to suckle. Any pleasure she had been feeling was a fraction of this. She was engaged with him in all three ways—mind, blood, and a cock buried as far as it could go.

She drank and drank and for a moment knew nothing else but that in this way she had taken possession of him, bringing into her body all that he was, his life force, that which flowed through his heart, that which gave him life.

She tasted sage and earth, man and fire. She tasted life.

She rolled her head, offering what she could give as well.

He groaned long and low and his tongue raked up her neck over and over until her vein pounded. She felt the tips of his fangs first. She cried out even before he struck. He sank his fangs and her hips jerked, her mind seized, and her whole body shivered.

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