Micah, page 11
He groaned and slid one hand around to her bare backside and another up into her hair. He clenched it in his fist and crushed her mouth to his. He devoured her, dominating her mouth with his tongue, taking every last sweet taste he could, roaming her smooth flesh with his hand. Then he lifted her with both hands and turned to climb onto the bed, laying her down beneath him as he went. He held his weight off her belly but grabbed her hands and pinned them to the rumpled sheets over her head, holding them there with one hand. Then he magicked away his toga and lifted her knee, spreading her legs wide for him. He poised his cock at her entrance but didn’t take her, not yet.
“I want to bury myself in you.” He thrust inside the sweet, hot wetness of her.
She gasped and arched into him, her hands trapped under his, her body possessed by his cock. He gave her his love, his cock, and his baby, but she was right—he hadn’t given her everything. He hadn’t bared his soul, given up his secret desires, shared his deepest fantasy.
He waited until she opened her eyes again, hooded with Lust, just as he liked them, waiting for him to pleasure her more. He pulled back and thrust again. She cried out. “I want all of you, Ren.” His voice was hoarse. The pleasure was an intense pressure deep in his belly. He thrust again. “I want the baby.” Another thrust, harder. “The sex.” Another thrust. “The love.” He was panting. She was moaning and squirming under his hold. He released her hands, pulled out of her body, and drew her up to sitting. Then he kissed her on the mouth, long and deep, groaning as he did because words were fucking hard and hard fucking was what he knew how best to do. But he needed to do better than that—for her.
He pivoted until he was sitting, cock rising out of his lap, then he drew her in to straddle him. He lifted her and brought her back down, seating her on his cock. She gasped as the full length of him slid in, but her hands landed on his shoulders, and she gripped hard. This way his hands were free to cup her belly, knead her breast, stroke her most sensitive spot while she rode him. But not yet. Instead, he held her still, buried deep inside her, holding her hip motionless with one hand and gently cupping her cheek with the other.
“My sweet Ren.” His breath was ragged, and not because of the heat of her or the pressure on his cock with how tight she was or even because his heart was pounding like he was being chased by Light angels. He couldn’t breathe because words were on the tip of his tongue that he was afraid to say—terrified to speak aloud—for fear that saying them would doom him forever. Destroy everything. Lose everything. “I want a life with you,” he gushed out the words. “I want to see our baby grow. I want to hold you when you cry. I want to be the one you turn to, the one who protects you, the one you love. I want to keep you, Ren.” He gasped in air because he was drowning in these words.
Her eyes were shining. A single tear escaped from the corner and rolled down her cheek, splashing on his chest. That one tear felt like ice carving him.
“My greatest fear was losing you, but then I realized—without you, I’m already gone.”
“Micah.” It was a sob, and it wrenched him. This should have been the first thing he gave her, not the hundred orgasms that were his way of saying it, dreaming it, praying for it, without the risking of losing it.
Of losing her.
“I’m here,” he gasped. “I’m yours.” It was a promise. “Now ride me, Ren. Because if I can’t have you right now, I think I might die.”
She sobbed again, but then she gripped his chest, lifted up, and slammed back down on his cock. She cried out as he did. Then she lifted and slammed again. He took hold of her hips, encouraging her, bringing her down harder. When she tipped her head back, crying out her curses and her prayers, he slipped his hand between her legs. She gasped as he worked her sweet sex, and quickly, all in a rush, she was crying out and crying tears and coming all around his cock. Pulsing wave after wave nearly brought him to his peak—he held back only because he was far from done with her. When her sweet flesh stopped quivering around him, he quickly lifted her off his cock and propped her hands against the wall. She was on her knees, spread, bent to the wall enough that the baby was protected yet he could take her from behind. He stroked quickly in, and they both gasped. He drew back and thrust again, holding her hip, anchoring her for the fevered pounding he wanted to give. She cried out as he thrust, faster and more wild, calling his name and crying her prayers, and just when he couldn’t hold back anymore, she came. It was a glorious orgasm—the kind where she screamed and her legs shook, and her toes curled. And as her body squeezed his cock, the pressure inside him burst—an explosion of seed and desire and their sweet aching love. He emptied and emptied himself into her, thrusting through both of their climaxes, wrenching every last drop of pleasure out of her body and his. And when he slowed, it was like the collapse of a mountain, every bit of energy drained and pulling him down.
He fell to the bed, bringing her with him, still half joined. She instantly curled against him, her back to his chest, and he held her, one hand on her belly, the other on her breast.
Then he whispered into her ear.
All the soft things leaked from him. How he wanted to hold their baby in his hands. How he would find a new way to make love to her every day. He breathed all the secrets for her. The small ones. The impossible ones. His fears that she would die before him. His joy at the idea that their baby—the embodiment of their love—would live past them both.
After a long time, he was spent. All the words had been said. Their bodies had cooled.
“Kiss me, if you still love me,” he said. It wasn’t like he believed the secret thoughts would drive her away. He feared she might be unforgivably angry at how much he’d held back.
She turned in his arms. Her face was streaked with tears. Her Virtues had never shone more bright.
She kissed him, softly, on the lips. “Always.”
And that was all he needed to hear.
Chapter Ten
Was it possible to have too much mind-blowing sex?
Ren was starting to think so. Especially when your boyfriend was an incredibly hot angeling with supernatural stamina that you were impossibly head-over-heels in love with. But each time she passed out from sheer omg that orgasm exhaustion, Micah only let her sleep a little while. Then he pumped in that angeling energy blessing that roused all her parts, restoring her and getting her ready for the other pumping action—the kind where he drove that heavenly cock into her oh-so-willing body. She could not get enough of him, her human stamina notwithstanding. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, either, and with his heart truly bared to her now, the sex wasn’t even sex anymore—it was Love.
She was just sure it was Capital-L Love.
But she hadn’t worked up the courage to ask to see his wings.
They were standing on the bed now, and Micah had just eased his cock into her—well, Micah was standing; she was suspended from some black-leather-strap contraption he’d conjured. It was like a swing only instead of a seat, there were two straps that looped around her thighs and held her legs wide open for him with plenty of room for her baby belly. She was still breathing hard from the fine, fine attention of his tongue—having him on his knees before her, face buried where she wanted it most, was an insane turn-on, totally making the sex-swing worthwhile. But now he was up and rock-hard and so ready for her. His gaze was glued to where their bodies intersected as he slowly swung her away then back—just when she thought she’d gotten used to the size of him, he took her at some new angle that made her say…
“Holy fuck, Micah.”
He swung her a little harder and grunted when she seated the whole way. “I believe this is my new favorite way to have you, my love.” His voice was strained as he swung her out and banged her back again.
She gasped. “You said that about the last position.”
“That one as well.” Then he grunted again as he rammed her against him. Her insanely sensitive nub screamed joy each time she hit. Soon, he’d found a rhythm that had her panting and him cursing.
She was rocketing to her climax again, but as her whole body started that delicious tensing up, she cried out, “Micah! Show me your wings!”
“My love?” His teeth were gritted, his hands gripping her rear, and he was very not focused on words.
“Show… me… your… ahh!” She came suddenly, and it shook her everywhere, quivering her legs and her sex and her arms which were tired from holding desperately onto the swing ropes.
“Ah. Fuck. Yes.” Micah growled as he came, something she found impossibly cute and sexy at the same time. He came a long time, too—she could always tell when it was really good for him by how long he clung to that trailing edge of the orgasm, emptying himself into her, his face slack with pleasure. If she weren’t already pregnant with his baby, she wouldn’t have escaped the last twenty-four hours of their lovemaking without getting “with child” as Micah called it.
Capital-L Lovemaking. She hoped.
Micah eased himself out of her… and then in again. Holy fuck, were they going for another round? She really couldn’t believe how often she said that to herself.
Micah was murmuring to himself, eyes closed. It almost sounded like a prayer. She could never quite make it out, almost like it was a different language. Then he buried himself deep and held her there, finally opening his eyes to kiss her gently on the lips.
“I could die right now,” he breathed with a lazy smile, “and would have known heaven.”
She grinned. “The sex swing works for me too.”
He laughed, low and deep, then ran his hands up from her rear, along her back and then brought one around to grab hold of her breast. “I have so many more restraints for you.” He nuzzled her neck and brought her closer in a small motion that seemed to grow his cock harder inside her. That was a definite yes on the Round Two.
Micah nuzzled her ear. “Do you truly want to see my wings?”
Her heart fluttered. She swallowed and forced herself to say, “Yes.”
He unfurled them out of his back, magically, like it always worked.
They were black.
Her fluttering heart went still.
“Do they turn you on?” he asked, seemingly unaware that her heart had dropped like a cold stone into her stomach.
“Yeah,” she said, weakly. He didn’t love her. Not Capital-L True Love, at least. Not enough to turn his wings to snowy white like the others.
He pulled back from having his face buried in her neck. “What’s wrong?”
“Just tired,” she said quickly.
His eyes widened, but he pulled out and magicked away the straps and held her so she wouldn’t fall—then he eased her feet down to the bed. “Should I get you some more food?” he asked, frowning. He’d already brought some of the stale ham and cheese sandwiches from the nursery supply, and that had depressed her so badly, she’d hardly eaten any of it.
“No.” She knelt down to sitting on the bed. “Micah, what are we doing?” The weight of it—his black wings—draped around her. She’d been so sure.
“I thought we were having some amazing sex.” He folded his legs and sat in front of her.
Sex. Not Love. She sighed and looked away.
“You’re worried.” His hand was on her cheek, his eyes searching her face. “Please don’t worry, my love. We’re safe as long as we—”
“I’m not worried.” She snapped it a little too harshly.
His eyes went wide, and he looked so much younger when he did. She didn’t honestly know how old he was—probably a lot older than she thought—but there was this hidden innocence, almost a naiveté that came out sometimes. Usually, it charmed her, but now she just saw it as more evidence that Micah had spent his whole life trapped in Elyon’s Regiment. What did he know of human life? Or what it was like to be in the Light? Not that she knew much about that, but she saw it—she saw how Asa changed when he got his white wings. How Razael became more… more. Confident? Full of life? Maybe he was just happy to be in True Love with Eden. Maybe that’s all there was to it.
“Sorry I snapped at you.” She glumly picked at the bare mattress—they’d long ago wrestled all the sheets off the bed.
“What is it, Ren?” And the way he said it… like he’d wrap up the world in a bow and give it to her if he could. Or was it just her imagination?
She peered up at him. “Do you ever think about what it’s like, being in the Light?”
He gave her a panicky look and furled in his wings. “No.”
She pressed her lips together and poked at the mattress again. Why even go down this road? She was probably doomed to stay here in Elyon’s Regiment forever. Shouldn’t she be making the best of it? “I’ve been thinking about it. What it really means.”
“You’ve probably spent more time with Light angelings than I have,” he said stiffly. “Usually, they don’t say much before I plunge my blade into them.” His voice was hard, and she could feel those walls closing again around his heart.
They were sitting naked on a bed together, yet he felt a million miles away.
She looked up. His face held a full battalion of emotions, duking it out. Fear. Anger. Pain.
It was the pain that broke her.
She shifted her legs so she could lift up on her knees. Then she took his freaking-out beautiful face in her hands and kissed him on the lips. Once. Then again. Just gently. Just to show she loved him, and he didn’t need to be afraid with her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and kissed him again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His lips trembled a little, so she kissed them again. But she didn’t want them to dive into lovemaking again—and it was lovemaking, not sex, no matter what he called it. But they used it to avoid talking. She was just as guilty of that as he was.
And they needed to talk.
She eased back down to sitting on her heels, her hands slipping down to hold his where they lay, limp in his lap. But she could see his walls were back down again.
She peered into his eyes. “I love you so much it’s like… like a pain inside me that only eases when you’re holding me. Or making love to me. Or looking at me the way you sometimes do.”
“I always look at you that way.” But he was completely absorbed.
“And I know I can’t see souls—not like you do—but I see something inside you, Micah. Something good. Something whole. It’s buried deep in there. So deep, I don’t think you even know it’s there. But it is. And I can see it. And I want you to know something.”
His lips were moving, just slightly, like he thought he was memorizing her words and repeating them back to himself. Then he swallowed. “What?”
“That you’re just as good as any of them.” With the instant doubt on his face, a deep well of anger bubbled inside her. “This thing we have, you and me. It’s good. I believe in it. I believe in our love. And we couldn’t make something that beautiful together if there wasn’t something good in each of us.”
His smile was pained. “Your Virtues shine enough for the both of us.”
“No.” She squeezed his hands tight. “You see, that’s just what your father wants you to think. But the truth? He keeps hurting you—he keeps you around to hurt you—because he sees the Virtues in you. And he wants to break them.”
Micah frowned, and Ren wanted to cheer and kiss that small line. She was finally, maybe, getting him to understand.
“He’s always tried to break me,” he said.
“Always, right?” Ren had to restrain her smile. “You know who else he tried to break? Eden.”
A light dawned in his eyes. It was everything she could do to hold back from just tackle-hugging him. “He was drawn to her Virtues,” Micah said.
“So many Virtues!” Ren let a little of her smile out. “I swear that girl is like some kind of saint.”
Micah frowned again. “And when he couldn’t break her, he tried to destroy her.”
“Well, yes. There’s that.” Ren swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t where she wanted to go with this.
“And yet I’m still here.” He nodded and dropped his gaze, clearly thinking about that. But did he really understand? Did she?
The baby must have woken up because she started doing a little disco in her belly. She let go of Micah’s hand to automatically put a hand there, soothing where the pokes were. The baby hadn’t moved much lately, probably because of all the rocking and banging and hot sex momma and daddy were having. The movement dragged Micah’s attention out of his funk.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned.
“Yeah, it’s just the baby.”
“What do you mean just the baby?” Now he was really concerned.
She just laughed a little and grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly. Ms. Angeling obliged by kicking daddy square in the palm.
Micah jumped. Then he looked at her with wide eyes. “The baby…”
She chirped a laugh then covered her smile. “You’ve seriously never felt a baby move before?” She was a nurse—sometimes she just assumed people had experienced all manner of things concerning human bodies. Then her humor died when she realized that Micah had been with two other pregnant ladies—and they didn’t live long enough for him to feel their babies move under his hand.
He was just shaking his head in wonder and staring at her belly. She covered his hand with hers and slid it to where the baby might poke next. There was a lot of shifting going on in there. After a moment, the baby kicked daddy’s hand again.
The way Micah’s face lit up… God, she was so lost for this man.
“What’s going to become of us, Micah?” she asked softly.
The pain was back in his eyes. “I don’t know.” Then he slid a hand up to her cheek and—
Pop. Something jolted the air, and suddenly, someone else was in the room with them.
Terah.
“Ack!” Ren shrieked and threw her hands over her naked boobs. What the hell?
Micah was up off the bed a fraction of a second later, relaxing the next instant after that when he saw who it was.
