AllFreeNovel
Share Us
12
LILIN
I fell.
I fell with the full knowledge that this was both irrevocable and irreparable. I looked into the crimson depths of Abigor’s eyes, and I flung myself down them.
And my God, it felt good.
He gasped against my mouth and clutched at my hips as I braced myself on his chest. It was as though he’d poured liquid fire into my very blood; desire roared to life within me. I ground myself against him, feeling him harden beneath me.
The look he’d given me when I had touched his horn—what had he experienced? I did it again, bringing my hand up as I rocked my hips forward, wrapping my fingers around the ridges of his horn. It was like nothing I’d ever felt, strangely warm, seeming to pulse with life, although it seemed as inert as the branch of a tree. I ran my fingertips along it, watching his face, the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes closed.
“Again?” I whispered.
He nodded, seemingly unable to speak. I did it again, trailing my hand lightly up and down its length, and he hissed, his hips jerking. I felt a rush of power, heady and hot, as he tensed beneath me.
I stretched up, pressing my lips lightly to his hair, where the horn began. “Can I—”
His assent was more groan than word. “Yes,” he said.
Carefully, experimentally, I parted my lips and pressed them lightly to the horn. He was motionless beneath me, but I could feel the quake of his muscles, the way his breath caught when I let my tongue slip out to taste him.
He let out a low, shuddering sound and bent his head forward to give me better access to his horns. I reached up with my other hand, gripping them both, the simultaneous hard press of his erection between my thighs and the horns beneath my palms making me tremble with want. His hands slid up my sides and he pulled me forward, bringing his lips to my throat.
Down, down I fell.
His lips laid a trail of heat, tracing over my jaw, up to nip at my earlobe, and I arched against him, gasping. I opened my eyes, gazing up at the endless sky, and I welcomed my damnation. I wanted him within me; I wanted him never without me.
The gossamer gown I wore was suddenly stifling, and I tore at it, wrenching it from my body and flinging it aside. It caught on my wing and I shook it off, letting the celestial cloak fall in my hurry to be rid of the garment.
“Wait,” Abigor said, as I was about to hide the wing away again. “Wait.”
He was gazing at me, his oblong pupils widely dilated. I stopped, puzzled, until I realized that he was looking not at my body, but at the wings behind me.
“Can I,” he said, his voice low and fascinated, “touch them?”
My breath caught. In the City it was beyond taboo to touch another’s wings; even to mention their presence was vulgar. For some reason, though, the thought of Abigor’s hands on them, fingers combing through my feathers, grazing over my eyes—
Without meaning to, I moaned, and caught my lower lip quickly between my teeth to stifle the sound. I nodded and pressed my forehead into the curve of Abigor’s neck as he lifted his hands from my sides.
I stretched my wings out to either side, their multitudes of eyes all closed, unable to bear the agony of waiting. I tried desperately to stifle any Sense of him, but his desire swept over me, as unremitting as the tide. My head spun; a thousand imagined stars flashed in the blackness of my vision. For an endless moment, there was nothing, and then—
I cried out at the first brush of his fingers against my wings, the sensation overwhelming me so entirely that for a moment I could see the heavens behind my closed eyes. I was dimly aware of his voice, his reverent words indecipherable. It was as though he had not two but a thousand hands, each lighting my body with licks of flame.
“Lilin,” he breathed in my ear, his hands in my wings. “Lilin.” Like an intonation; like a fervent prayer.
I was engulfed. Lost in my need for him, in the feeling of him against me, under me, within me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his wings extend, stretching forward, brushing ever so gently against the tips of mine. I let out another cry, low and desperate, as he twined himself immutably around the tangled strands of my heart. I felt him, and I was lost.
Down, down.
He must have felt me shaking, because he withdrew, carving hollow spaces where his touch had been. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning his face into my hair. “It was too much.”
I reared back, my hands coming up to cup his neck, and I shook my head fiercely.
“No,” I said. “Not nearly enough.”
He surged forward, clutching at me, his mouth hot on mine. His hands fell to my breasts, skimming over them lightly, and I moaned into his mouth, leaning into him, pressing harder.
