A second later, he was there with her, his body spiraling around her own as she climbed, his speed and agility so stunning that everything female in her resonated in response. Mine, she thought, this magnificent creature with his wings of gold and eyes of relentless blue is mine.
A shimmer in her peripheral vision and then ... sex. Pure sex and temptation and passion on her tongue. Dusting me again, Archangel? Licking the delicious, decadent taste of Raphael’s special blend of angel-dust off her lips, she flew through the fine, fine particles, feeling the wicked caress of it cover every exposed inch of her body—including her wings.
Next time, I will do it when you are clothed in nothing but skin.
She clenched her thighs at the sensual impact of that image. It would drive her mad, she thought, that level of sensation. But she’d always known that loving an archangel would be no easy matter. Smiling, she dropped without warning, simply folding her wings and plummeting to the earth.
She flared them out again at the midpoint, sweeping away in a different direction. Raphael was nowhere to be seen. Feeling smug at having evaded him, she was startled to see angel-dust raining down around her, streaking the night sky in shimmers of bril iant gold. Pushing back her hair, she glanced over her shoulder.
Her archangel was flying perfectly above her, his wings bigger, a midnight shadow over her body. Not fair, she complained. You’ve had a millennium and a half to learn these tricks. She tugged at the neck of her tank top, suddenly far too hot as the angel-dust worked its way through the material and into her pores to her bloodstream, the erotic kiss of it concentrated on the pulse between her thighs.
A light touch at her neck and the tank, then the sleeves, literal y fel apart in her hands. “Raphael!” I can’t go about having my clothes scattered all over the state!
Even as she spoke, she saw tiny flickers of blue light up the night and realized he’d destroyed the fragments of her clothing. But that wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. It was the fact that she was nude above the waist. It made her feel painful y vulnerable.
No one can see, Elena. I promise you this.
Only Raphael could’ve made her believe that, made her trust. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the arms she’d crossed over her chest and looked around. She had no idea where they were, but it was pitch-dark below, so dark that it had to be—“The sea.” While they’d been flying above the clouds, Raphael had taken them out into the Atlantic, so far out that no matter which direction she turned, she couldn’t see any sign of light, of human civilization.
Exhilaration burst through her bloodstream, and she thought, what the hel . Do your magic, Archangel. She kicked off her shoes, somehow managed to get off her pants and underwear—though her flight path probably looked like that of a drunken bumblebee. Her clothing disappeared in flashes of blue, her skin sighing at the release. Flaring out her wings to their greatest width, she gave in to the hunger inside of her and rode the air currents with an untamed, open joy.
She’d never felt as carefree.
Raphael winged over her, slow and easy, almost lazily, and she got the feeling he was letting her play. It made her lips kick upward ... and then she tasted the angel-dust glittering in the air. Pure sex. The damn sneaky archangel had flown circles around her, until there was nowhere she could go to escape the exotic, aphrodisiac stuff. You realize this is war? she said, licking the dust off her lips, vividly conscious of it caressing every secret corner of her body.
No answer.
Her instincts kicked in.
Utilizing her recent flight training, she did a hard turn to her left and went up. Raphael shot by a bare mil isecond later, missing her by a fraction of a feather. As he caught himself and turned to head back up, she swept right ... diving just when he’d come too far to stop. But this was an archangel she played with. He managed to run his fingers over her wings in teasing promise as she plummeted.
Strong, warm hands closing on the naked skin of her waist. Too fast, hunter. A kiss pressed to the side of her neck as he rose up before releasing her.
But when she would’ve turned to fly in another direction, he gripped her again, holding her naked body flush against his semiclothed one.
Every tiny inch of her skin crawling with sensation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts to the muscled plane of his chest as he propel ed them ever higher. “Kiss me, Archangel.”
Later.
Too hungry to listen to the order, she nipped at his throat, sucked and kissed until the hands on her waist squeezed, his erection a pulsing brand between them. Not yet, Elena. There was a hoarse quality to his mental tone, the glow coming off his wings sparking electric blue.