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He was tracing the lips of her sex, and as her legs tightened, his muscles did the same, shifting her wider, driving her backside down more intimately against his cock.
"Be still, baby. Let me bring you pleasure. I want to hear you cry out."
She couldn't breathe. How could she possibly scream?
He cupped her breast in his palm, those sensitive pads of his fingers caressing the nipple so it hardened further. Without her volition, her body tried to shift, press into the contact, and he shifted with her automatically, keeping them level, though taking them into a curved turn where she saw a creamy expanse of clouds beneath them.
"Oh," she said faintly, but fear couldn't find a foothold when his fingers eased into her sex and his thumb began a slow massage of that incredibly sensitive oblong flesh just above the wet opening. He had increased his grip on her breast as he made the turn, and now he held the weight solidly in his hand, his thumb rasping over the nipple, his skin the perfect coarse texture to provide friction to the softer flesh.
"David."
"You have the most perfect ass," he mouthed in her ear, his cock pressing insistently against her such that she couldn't help but flex the muscles against him, for what he was doing with his fingers was making it impossible for her not to move. She gave in to the desire now, lifting up, rotating, trying to squeeze on him as she rubbed herself against him. The cloak worked up so now her bare body was stroking against him through the thin stuff of the half tunic. The cold metal of his belt pressed into her lower back, adding a sharp edge to her need.
"Goddess." His breath left him in another groan that gave her a primal surge of delight. Then he moved across her sternum, forearm high on her breast, enough pressure just above her nipple to make her ache, strain for touch, as he caressed the flesh where another might have been. Her flesh quickened beneath his magical touch. She'd been so surprised to have the aching desire to be touched there, caressed. But had he yet discovered a place where she didn't?
"Oh." That building sensation again.
"You're getting close." His voice was harsh, almost guttural. "I want you to tell me when you think you're close, Mina. I want you to ask me before you go over. Let me prolong your pleasure."
Ask him... as in permission? Or was it a way to enhance this, as he said? Perhaps, for the idea of having to wait until he gave the word for it was daring, thrilling. She wouldn't mind feeling like this for eternity, mindlessly writhing on an angel's body up high in the firmament, his hands all over her, her arms linked around his neck, her legs spread open at his insistence.
The bar of steel in her back-not his belt-was a delicious pain, and said her compliance might be driving him as crazy as his dominance was driving her. She wasn't giving up anything; it was just temporary. Why did it feel so incredible, though? Dangerously... eternal.
"Oh..." A sharper cry tore from her throat this time as he changed his rhythm, worked her mons insistently, three fingers moving inside as well, the other hand clasping her chest. "I'm... David..."
"Are you close?"
"Yeesss." A long syllable, her body shuddering.
"Ask me, Mina. Make me harder; drive me fucking insane."
The words, dark and primal, so much of the flesh and things mortal, temporary, pushed her past question or rational thought.
"Please... let me go..."
"I'll let you come, sweet witch. I won't ever let you go. Come for me. Let me hear you."
She had a second to think-but we're not joined; he can't get any release from this-but then those wonderful, ruthless fingers shoved her over that edge and she was free-falling in a marvelous way. He made it more wondrous then, increasing the speed of their flight, soaring higher as she bucked against his body, her nails digging into his neck, her legs locked rigid around his legs as she spun through the air. He let her see the clouds and the sky, feel the glory of flying without the fear, and her scream became a cry of amazement as the stars and moon spun around her. It reminded her of her glass chimes moved by the water, dancing and singing around her.
His warm, solid body stayed along every inch of the back of hers, never altering, never making her feel abandoned or apprehensive. His powerful wings sent air currents over her face like the crashing delight of the surf. At last, at the most magnificent spasm, she had to close her eyes and let it shudder hard through her, bringing heat to parts that had always been cold, driving away pain with this rush of bittersweet, carnal pleasure.
When she could draw a steady breath again, her body was still jerking, small aftershocks that had her fingers and legs vibrating against her wishes. His hand left her with gratifying reluctance, but only to slide up her belly, so he could join the other hand in caressing the area of her breasts. Then he came out of the neckline of her cloak to find her hair. Twining it in his fingers, he tugged until she tilted her head and let out a soft, decidedly unlike-her whimper as he kissed her throat, teased her with a nip of teeth. Her lips needed the wet heat of his mouth. She needed too much.
As her body was settling, other things were surging up. The exhilarating flight through the air was about to turn and send her plummeting wildly to earth, spiraling back down into the blackness of her soul.
Please don't, she begged. Let me have this... Though she knew better than to entreat it. It was an enemy, and enemies mocked mercy.
"It's too much," she managed. "Gods, it's too much. I can't... I have to get down.
"David." It was an urgent cry. Since he'd turned the weaponry to lie along his back and hip for her comfort, she could feel the muscular expanse of stomach and chest beneath her, but now her fingers dug hard into his hip near the grip of the one weapon she could almost reach. Her clumsy seeking rucked up the edge of the short kilt so she found his bare thigh, the lower curve of buttock beneath her grasping fingers.
"It hurts, David." It was growing, a pain that seemed to be affecting her heart. Oddly, it hurt more than anything she'd ever felt, but a part of her wanted it to go on. She couldn't bear it. "Use it... please."
He'd told her she had to ask, and she mindlessly followed that compulsion now, just as she'd sought his permission to give herself release. There was no time or desire to make a token show of independence. Survival of this passing wave was more important. It was like the ferocity of the Dark Blood, the insidious call of it, but different as well.
As if he stood inside her mind and knew exactly what she needed, he pulled the blade. In a stomach-dropping move, he swiftly brought them upright so she faced the division of terra from firmament in a panoramic view, the stars and moon a cold glitter over thickly layered storm waves of clouds through which she could see the earth below. Still there, still turning. Waiting.
The blade slid across her lower abdomen, just above the pubic mound, making her shudder, clench at the sensual, possessive implication. But as she felt the blood slip down her thighs, join her own fluids, a powerful release on the scale of the climax rocked through her, balancing the worst of the overwhelming feeling, easing out of her with the life fluid. When she put her hand over the sharp blade, she wanted to grip it, cut deeply into her fingers. Even though just that bare contact caused a cut. His hand was inevitably there, taking hers, even as his arm locked strongly around her.
"No," he said, with finality. "Only by my hand, Mina. Remember. Ssshhh. Deep breath. Be easy. You'll be fine."
And she was. He'd done it at just the right moment, and everything was okay. Except now the weariness she'd experienced just before their flight crashed down on her, the adrenaline sliding away. She was tired and weak, with an abruptness that suggested he'd somehow suspended time for her, so she could experience this first.
"All right?" he asked quietly.
She groped for a meaningful response. "You're still-"
"Don't worry about me. The pleasure was in watching you. Feeling you. Goddess." He passed a hand over her hair, discomfiting her with that tender gesture more than he had with anything thus far, then pressed another soft kiss to he
r temple, her hair. Her lips trembled open, still wanting. She swallowed, made them press together again.
"I've exhausted you," he said. "Let's get you on the ground."
The descent was somewhat of a hazy blur, but then they reached that sand spit where their first meeting had occurred, a far more volatile but perhaps less powerful encounter than what had just happened in the sky.
"Tide," she said muzzily.
"Won't be up for a few hours. Sleep, baby. I'll watch over you."
