Embracing Eternity Read online

  He leaned in more and pressed his forehead against hers, hoping that what he was saying, what he felt in his heart, would sink into her.

  “Please, Meela. Let me give you pleasure. I ask nothing in return.”

  Her body shook as his breath hitched.

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  A shiver racked her and he held her tighter. Meela had always had a prideful nature. How much had that small admission cost her?

  How much must she trust him to make it?

  “Ah, my dear one. Don’t you know I cherish you? Let me show you how much.”

  Her fingers curled in his robes and she held fast to him.

  “Show me, Evan. Teach me what it means to be loved.”

  Chapter Seven

  Meela buried her face in Evan’s robes and squeezed her eyes shut tight, as if by doing so she could pretend she hadn’t just said that. Her blood still burned in punishment for trying to send him to safety, but the need to love him, be loved by him, far outweighed the unholy compulsion placed by Lucifer. This was a mistake, she knew it was, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing on to him, from letting herself believe that this was right.

  This isn’t real. The Master will come and when he does…

  She swallowed hard.

  No. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d protect Evan.

  Another wave of pain ripped through her as the oath Lucifer had forced laced her blood with acid. Her intent had triggered reprimand. She’d promised a betrayal and Lucifer wouldn’t allow her to break that promise. The oath, given in haste, would give the Master control of her actions. If Evan was in reach when Lucifer called, he would be as damned as she.

  She was trapped.

  Worse yet, the sting of acid meant the time of reckoning was drawing near. The moment of betrayal approached and there would be no turning back.

  The Master was already coming.

  No. She couldn’t think about that. For now she was hidden. Even if one of the lessers had made it back to tell the Master where they were, he wouldn’t be able to find them through Evan’s shield.

  She had time still, a few fleeting moments with Evan. Precious moments where she could feel special and loved, forget that she was a demon, worthless and contemptible. If she was lucky, she would be able to send Evan safely away before the oath overtook her.

  Evan’s gentle hands stroked over her back, carefully avoiding the ticklish spots under her wings. Did he know she didn’t like her wings tickled? Did he remember that about her through all these centuries, or was it just a coincidence?

  She wanted to pretend he knew, that he was a lover who cherished every little thing about her.

  “May I touch you?” Though the words were whispered, they went through her like a shout.

  He’d asked permission. No one asked permission to touch her.

  A little of her fear crumbled away and she used some of the precious power he’d given her to make the remainder of her clothing vanish.

  Evan gave a shuddering sigh and spread his hands wide over her back.

  Just as Lucifer had done right before he would grab her by the wings.

  No. Oh no.

  She could feel a seed of terror struggling to take root in her soul. Memories of other hands on her, hurtful hands, threatened to steal even this small pleasure.

  “Look at me, Meela.” Evan’s gentle command pushed back the fear before it could find purchase. “Tell me who is holding you.”

  “Evan.” His name came out on a breath and calmness seeped into her soul. Evan held her. Evan who wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt her. He was a protector, a defender. Never a warrior, always a guardian.

  Evan would never hurt her.

  “Evan,” she said again, this time with acceptance.

  He eased her onto her back, placing gentle kisses along her jaw as she relaxed against him. Beneath her, the ground was soft and warm as a bed of moss in summer, the perfect bed for a pair of lovers.

  His hand drifted over her skin, tracing the contours of her body and edging almost hesitantly toward her breast. She stilled waiting, every nerve in her body pleading, for him to close the distance and take her in hand. His fingertips skimmed her ribs, sending a ripple of goose bumps over her skin.

  By all that was holy, he was killing her. If she had feathers they’d all be standing on end. She arched and made a small sound of impatience, but that didn’t make him move any faster. He continued to outline her curves, dipping to drag one fingertip over the curve of her waist, then wrapping his hand over her hip, sending a flush of warmth through her.

  He kissed and nibbled his way down her neck, inch by teasing inch, all the while keeping his hands in motion, caressing and exploring her contours.

  He gave her collarbone a sharp nip before he scooted down, putting that wonderful mouth level with her breasts.

  Yes, please. Please do.

  He didn’t. She wanted to scream in frustration as he placed soft kisses over her chest, carefully avoiding her breasts.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, the words hot against her bare skin. “Even lovelier than I ever imagined.”

  She shifted under him, unable to accept his words. She wasn’t lovely. Her soul was black with shame and she didn’t deserve to be loved by a seraph like Evan. His lips brushed over the curve of one breast. She was burning up, her body heavy with need and want.

  “Please Evan,” she begged.

  “Please what?”

  “Kiss me. Please kiss me.”

  “I am kissing you.” His mouth skimmed over her flesh again and she wanted to scream in frustration.

  “Not like that, dammit. Please, Evan.”

  “How do you want me to kiss you then? Shall I kiss you like you kissed me?”

  She couldn’t answer, couldn’t make a sound. She answered with her body instead, arching under him, trying to direct his mouth to her breast.

  He stilled for just a heartbeat before turning his head. His lips hovered over the needy point for an agonizing moment. His breath warmed her in uneven waves, tremulous against her sensitive skin. Then he dipped ever so slightly to place a tender kiss on one hard nipple, ghosting over the tight peak so lightly she wasn’t sure it was real.

  Then his mouth took her nipple in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate, needy and restrained. He flicked his tongue over the hard knot, tentatively at first. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His loving touch sent tendrils of warmth through her. Soothing and electrifying at the same time, they acted as a balm to Lucifer’s acid.

  Arousal flared and she felt empty, her core wanting something, anything to fill it.

  No, not anything. She wanted Evan.

  His mouth left her nipple to find the other. Taking it in his mouth, he nipped at it before sucking it so hard it ached.

  Meela’s breath caught and her back arched. This was what she’d been missing, maybe what she’d never had before. Pure pleasure. Pure love.

  Sliding her leg over his, she placed one hand against the center of his back and pulled him close until he settled in the crux of her thighs. Close but not quite right. She wiggled a bit, scooting until his hard, hot stomach was pressed just there, where she needed it most. A shuddering breath escaped her as the hot pressure on her clit increased.

  He felt good, oh so good.

  She canted her hips, pressing harder and rocking against him. It had been so long since she’d truly experienced pleasure. There had been small thrills, the heady rush of power as she’d taken advantage of some hapless soul, but those empty amusements had been pale shadows of this overwhelming wave of want, and need, and love.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t bear any more, Evan moved.

  He paid homage to her, not missing a single inch of skin as he licked and nibbled his way down her body. Each caress of his tongue sent ripples of fire and ice through her.

  Hooking a hand behind her knee, Evan spread her more. She stilled, waiting for the moment he wo
uld lean back and examine her, leave her vulnerable and exposed.

  But this was Evan. He’d never let her feel that kind of discomfit. He never lifted his lips from her skin as he inched his way to her core. He blanketed her, using his wings to provide her warmth and security.

  “You have to show me,” he said, nuzzling the sensitive crease of her thigh.

  Her brow wrinkled as she tried to make sense of his words. “Show you what?”

  “How to please you. How to show you that love can be perfect.” He placed a reverent kiss on her clit and electricity shot through her, arching her back and seizing her breath.

  “There. That.” She gasped, her voice garbled, even to her ears.

  He tipped his head up to look at her, chuckling. “That little bit there?”

  “Yes. That little bit is an important bit. Give it lots of attention.”

  He dipped his head again, but this time he kept his eyes focused on her face, watching her with such intensity she felt his scrutiny in her soul.

  He kissed her again, this time slower and with purpose, his movements confident despite his lack of experience. Her body reacted with sharp pangs of pleasure. They echoed through her and her muscles coiled in response.

  This was all too much, and yet not enough. She wanted to thread her fingers through his hair, to arch up and push her pussy into his face.

  And yet, waiting was so much sweeter.

  He gave her long, slow licks. Tasting her. Exploring her. His mouth moved over her tender flesh almost lazily, not rushing the moment or neglecting a single facet of her pleasure. All the while, his eyes held hers and he learned, repeating the movements that left her gasping, sharpening the actions that made her fingers dig into the ground below her.

  Then came the gentle pressure of one finger sliding into her.

  “How should I touch you?” he asked, his words muffled against her.

  “Up by your fingertips,” she gasped. “Stroke just behind the bone.”

  His brow wrinkled as he searched for the place she’d indicated with slow thrusts of his hand. Her breath caught and her body clamped down on him as his finger brushed it.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Right there. Slow. Firm.”

  He added a second finger and caressed the bundle of nerves, his fingertips pressing it with the steady thrust of his hand.

  Meela’s body tightened with every stroke of his fingertips, every flick of his tongue. Through it all she could feel him watching her, studying her reactions and using them to guide him.

  A whimper escaped her. It wasn’t enough.

  “What do you need Meela? Tell me.”

  But she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t say a word. Need had locked the words tight in her throat and she couldn’t force them out.

  Digging her heels into the soft earth, she pushed up against his face, trying to guide him instead. There. Harder. Faster.

  He seemed to understand. His fingers increased speed and he sucked hard on her clit, giving it a small nip as he did.

  The small bit of hurt sent her over the edge. It was almost like Falling again. Fire exploded over her skin, singeing her, tearing her apart and sending her hurtling through space. It vibrated through her, the shock sending answering ripples through her body and mind.

  It seemed to go on and on, and yet was over all too soon. Meela drifted until her shattered soul came together again, remade into something new. Something better.

  Something loved.

  He settled beside her and she rolled against him, his loose gossamer robes tangling around them.

  “You didn’t come,” she said, stroking one hand down his chest to where his robes angled across his stomach.

  “Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

  She propped herself up on one elbow and leaned over him. “You are so self-sacrificing it’s almost annoying.”

  “Almost. What would it take to be really annoying?”

  “Right now I feel too good to be annoyed by anything but the fact that you aren’t feeling as good as I am.” She found the edge of his robes and tugged, but it was stuck, pinned tight under them.

  Too sated to fight it, she settled for stroking him through the gossamer. Finer than silk, it hid little of his feel, hard and long, the heat of his cock burned in her hand. He’d fill her so nicely. The thought sent a fresh rush of heat through her and she could feel the slick slide of her own arousal.

  Wrapping her hand around him, she began to pump, sliding the silky material over his cock. He was already close, she could tell. Even through the fabric, she could feel his balls pulled up tight and the tension making his muscles tremble.

  Evan buried his face in her hair. Heat washed over her as his breath came in harsh gasps. With a groan he began to rock in time to her fist. “Ah, Meela, do not,” he panted as her pace increased.

  Merciful Heavens, she wanted to feel him, wanted to be skin-to-skin against him, but she couldn’t even concentrate enough to make his robes vanish.

  She pulled her knee up and moved to straddle him, so that his cock and her fist were tight against her wet flesh. Their movements forced her own knuckles against her clit. Every shift in their bodies, every thrust and parry, sent a new wave of need through her. Holding still, she let him pump into her hand, let him control the speed.

  Her own rush to orgasm took her by surprise. After the force of her last one, she hadn’t expected to actually want to come again.

  But the tension was building. It was smaller, less intense than the last, but she could definitely come again. Her spine tightened, twisting and bowing, arching her body. Beneath her, Evan began to shudder and groan.

  This time, her climax rolled over her in a gentle wave, less violent but no less shattering than the one before. Her soul cracked into a million fragments. The darkness inside her broke and she felt a sliver of her own power trickle through her. It shone against his, the sparkle of diamonds against the gentle, verdant earthiness of his.

  She was destroyed, her entire being broken and restored in an instant. The loss of her Fall, the pain of Hell, erased in that one perfect moment with Evan.

  She buried her face in the curve of Evan’s shoulder and tried to catch her breath. That had been…magnificent? Incredible?

  No. It had been perfect.

  “Meela, are you okay?” Evan stroked her hair and eased back, tipping his head to look into her eyes.

  Their breath steamed between them and the winter air stung her lungs as she tried to catch her breath. Unable to speak, she simply nodded.

  He rolled to his side, laying her carefully on the hard ground beside him. Meela grabbed at his robes, not wanting to let him go, not yet. Not until her heart had stopped pounding. Not until this feeling of being alive once more faded. Because it would fade. All illusions did.

  Some of the joy leached from her.

  “I’m sorry, my love.”

  “For what?” she choked out, her voice a harsh whisper.

  “For my…enthusiasm. I should have been more careful.”

  A weak laugh escaped her. “Your enthusiasm was perfect.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes. Absolutely perfect.”

  “That is very good to know, because I believe I got that enthusiasm all over you.”

  He rolled away and the wetness covering her hip chilled.

  “Oh shit, that’s cold!” She tried to hold back a giggle and failed. Poor Evan. His first time with a female and he’d come in his robes. The wetness turned the material translucent and she took a moment to admire his softening length through the fabric.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up,” he said. He placed his hand over her hip and it began to warm as his power flowed.

  “No.” She put her hand on his chest, stopping him. “Leave it.”

  “It’s a mess.”

  “It’s my mess. Leave it for now.” It was part of him. The part he’d never given to anyone else. She didn’t want to lose it just yet.

  Evan hesitated briefly
, probably wondering if she’d lost her mind completely, then settled back to the ground. Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he tugged her over him with an exhausted sigh.

  The air had grown uncomfortably cold. Her tiny wings ached with it. Shivering, she snuggled closer.

  Evan responded by stretching his heavily feathered wings forward, embracing her in their soft warmth.

  “Stay with me. Don’t go back to Lucifer.” The plea was a soft whisper, but the words screamed though her.

  She closed her eyes and wished, wished as hard as she could, that it were possible. But she knew when she opened them again, nothing would have changed. Simply entertaining the temptation woke Lucifer’s oath. Her limbs twitched as it fought to take control.

  Not yet. Please not yet. Wait for the Master. Please, don’t make me do it until he comes.

  Maybe she could convince Evan to be far away before Satan arrived.

  “You know I can’t go with you. Don’t tease my heart with the impossible.”

  “What if it’s not impossible? I’ve asked for help. Heaven’s greatest scholars are poring over the Law. It’s just a matter of time before they find the answer. You could come home with me.”

  “No.” Shaking her head, she pushed against his chest. He relaxed his hold, letting her put some distance between their bodies.

  At least until she came up against his wings, holding her down from behind. Those he used to pull her closer.

  “Say you will, Philomela.” She fought not to cringe at the sound of her heavenly name, a name once so full of beauty and truth. Lover of music. She hadn’t been that angel in so long. Couldn’t he see that?

  She was Meela, the demon. The downfall of men and the destroyer of angels.

  The destroyer of Evangelos.

  She didn’t want this fate, didn’t want to hurt him, but the path was set and she had no escape.

  Neither did he. He just didn’t realize it yet.

  “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  How little he understood. They were both doomed. Even now she could feel the oath burning its way through her veins like a prowling beast. Lucifer was nearing and their time together was over.

  “The Master will come. He’ll follow me.”