Wings of Fire (Guardians of Ascension #3)

Wings of Fire (Guardians of Ascension #3) Page 73

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.

Oh, dear God, what had they done, what had they begun, by engaging like this? She felt something coming, something enormous, but how on earth was she going to be able to handle more?

Antony tasted the sweet succulent flavor of tangerines in the blood that slid down his throat. He also tasted Parisa, a flavor of woman and life and energy, tremendous energy. He felt her doubt, as well, but he let that go, at least for now.

For now, he drank and drank and though he could feel all the other sensations at once, that she was stroking his mind, and suckling his wrist, that she’d taken a thick rope of his hair in her free hand and that her hips were jerking against his and pulling his cock in deep, the forefront of his mind was focused on what he took from her neck.

He loved her so much. That she was willing to give of herself like this pounded him within his mind and her energy became his energy. He felt determined and almost wild. His hips became a dedicated surge and pullback, surge and pullback, a heavy piston working the well of her body, working her pleasure, pumping and pumping.

He felt his release building and suddenly he could feel hers as well. He felt what it felt for her to have his shaft buried inside her. He trembled because the dual sensation of pleasure was too much, too much.

She pulled on his hair and he felt the texture of his own hair in her hand.

He tasted the flavor of his own blood in her mouth.

Yes, it was too much, too much, yet not enough.

Antony, what’s happening?

He couldn’t respond. He felt a wave of energy begin to flow through him, up from his feet, to his knees, his hips, his chest. The apertures along his back began to flood with moisture. He could feel her wing-locks as well, wet, so wet.

Then he understood. He had to get them both off the bed.

He slung one arm under her hips and the other securely around her shoulders so that he could continue to drink.

We’re off the bed.

Yes, let it come now, all of it.

My wings. Oh, God, they’re coming.

Yes, yes, yes.

As her wings mounted his did as well, a simultaneous release that launched the other release. He withdrew his fangs from her neck and cried out. She screamed and he felt her pleasure, the lightning of ecstasy that streaked over her most tender flesh and flew up the well of her body and gripped him—and as she gripped him, he pumped into her that other fluid of life, that which had the power to create life. He pumped and pumped. His wings stretched and reached, wafted to keep them both floating in the air.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh God.

Pleasure continued to flow in waves, deep pulsing waves, and he orgasmed a second time, heavily, his hips working her body. He felt her pleasure again as once more she screamed, her mouth no longer connected to his wrist, her arms holding him, her legs wrapped around his legs.

But if he felt her pleasure, what was she feeling?

Parisa screamed at the ceiling at the beautiful coffer beams that went in and out of focus. Orgasm had her in a powerful grip and it kept rolling through her. When her wings had released, she had climaxed as though there had never been an orgasm before in the entire course of the world. She had felt Antony’s release at the same time. When her wings came forth and his at the same time, she felt not only all those delicious sensations that had always characterized her wing-mounts, but all of his as well. The combination of experiences had been overwhelming.

And now she felt the pleasure building again. Even though Antony had already orgasmed more than once, already filled her full to overflowing, because they were involved in deep-mind engagement, and because his experiences were her experiences, she could tell he was going to climax again.

The exquisite pressure kept building and building. The release came. She threw her head back and screamed as the pleasure flowed—and then she felt it, a tremendous wave of energy that began at her feet, up through her hips, her chest, her shoulders, until it seemed to pass through the very top of her head.

At the same time she felt Antony’s pleasure, the pull of her well along his pulsing cock, the extreme pleasure of his orgasm as he once more spent his seed, the heady rush through his abdomen, chest, and head, pleasure upon pleasure.