Heaven Sent (Lupine Bay Book 1)

by Maribel Fox

  “Ian. I didn’t realize you guys had hung out at all.”

  “He is a quick study,” I say, realizing my faux pas too late.

  “What have you been teaching— No, you know what, I don’t care. I’m not here to talk about Ian.”

  I swallow, licking my lips as my hand on her thigh grows twitchy, eager to move higher.

  “What are you here for then?” I ask, head spinning as my pulse races, the sweet scent of Ava nearly overpowering.

  “I think you know,” she says with that same sly smirk. She leans forward then and takes my shirt in her hands, grabbing it at the hem, balling it into her fists, and tugging it up over my torso.

  Wordlessly, soundlessly, we communicate, and I lift my arms for her to remove the shirt entirely. She discards it without a second thought, tossing it aside with one hand as her other goes to my exposed chest, fingers dancing down the lines that divide my muscles. Her touch is incredible, her fingers electric.

  “I think I do,” I say, my hand finding its way back to her thigh, this time giving into the itch to press higher, to slip under her shirt, into the shadows. My hand slides higher, over her hip where there is a string of elastic— Right, her undergarments. With my hand on her hip, my thumb seems to naturally fall into the groove where her hip meets her thigh, and when I stroke it back and forth in that groove, Ava’s eyes flutter, her breath catching. Her hand explores my chest, my abdomen, both hands moving up to my shoulders. She stops just before touching my wings, and I shiver at the very thought.

  “You will not hurt me,” I say, feathers fluttering out, unrestrained by clothing.

  Ava breathes in, holding her breath as she extends her fingers and barely brushes them along the edge of my wing.

  I sigh, a tremor rippling through me.

  “Does that feel good?” she asks, eyes wide and curious, too concerned to risk touching me again until I’ve answered.

  “Incredible,” I say, nearly a growl as my wings move to wrap around her, enveloping her in the warm cocoon of strength and soft white feathers. Ava’s face is flushed, her breath ragged as she leans forward, lips hovering before mine.

  “Ava… There is something you should know about me—”

  “Do I need to know it before you kiss me?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Then kiss me,” she says, eyes twinkling with the mischief she has never tried to hide.

  My lips are on hers before there is time for a debate in my head. She is as sweet as I remember, her lips molding to mine, her tongue pushing into my mouth, heating my blood, stoking my desire. Ava moans when I mimic her tongue movements, moving nearer to me. Nearer and nearer until she is forced to place one leg on either side of me to be as close as she desires.

  That is the moment when I realize just what she is doing. Suddenly I feel her warmth in my lap, pressed against the swollen evidence of my hunger for her. Her hips move, and the sensation is beyond explanation. It zaps through me, a jolt to my system, but in the best way. In a way that goads on my compulsion to have her.

  “God, Micah, I never… I didn’t think we’d ever get the chance to—” Ava stops herself, biting her lip, sun-kissed hair tickling my chest as she shakes her head.

  “Ava, I have never…”

  She leans back, eyes wide, hands still on my shoulders.

  “Wait… Never?”

  I shake my head. “It is forbidden. That stops few, as it turns out,” I add, bitterness rising.

  It is misplaced, though. There had never been cause for me to care about that particular rule before Ava. And now that I have her, I am glad that there has never been another for me.

  “Well, that explains why you didn’t make a move sooner,” she says with a rueful grin.

  Instead of responding, I take the hem of her shirt in my hands, the same as she did with mine, and pull it off, tossing it aside as I marvel at the perfection of her pert breasts, topped with tawny nipples, drawn to tight points.

  “May I?” I ask, caressing the outer curve of her breast with my fingers, mouth nearing.

  “Please,” Ava pants. “I insist.”

  “Well, if you insist,” I remark, flicking my tongue out. Her reaction is more than I expected, her whole body jolting as she gasps. I try it again, eliciting a similar, albeit less pronounced reaction.

  Ava groans, then sighs as I close my lips around that perky nipple, circling it with my tongue and suckling. Her spine arches, her breast pushed more into my face as her hips move on their own. My wings tighten around her, supporting her, feathers more delicate on her sweet skin than my hands.

  “Micah… I’ve wanted this so much… I can’t… I can’t wait,” she says, hands rubbing the smooth surface of my head, settling on the back of my neck, pulling me up to kiss her on the mouth again. I follow her lead, eager to please her, trusting her experience.

  “You are incredible,” I say between fervent kisses, and then Ava is moving away, crooking her finger with her.

  “Lay back here,” she says, directing me to the head of the bed with the pillows. Before I am even fully in place, Ava is pulling on the waistband of my sweatpants, tugging them until they are completely off.

  Then the two of us are both naked save for undergarments.

  Those disappear in quick order, too, and for a long moment, we take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of one another. Her body is petite, tight and firm, yet possessing the gentle curves which first enticed me to consider this sin. Between her legs, there’s a thin patch of flaxen curls, glistening with her own arousal.

  “You can touch me, you know,” she says, taking my wrist, guiding it toward her until my fingertips are barely brushing the soft covering of hair.

  With my other hand, I take hers, bringing it toward me. “You as well,” I say, volleying her own mischievous smirk at her.

  Ava’s chest rises and falls fast with the frantic pace of her heartbeat. The pace mine seems to want to match. Then her fingers are around my member and everything else is forgotten.

  “Ava,” I breathe, bliss flooding outward from her touch. If this is what it feels like, I must return the favor. She deserves this ecstasy. I cup her with my hand and her breath stops as I begin to explore, fingers tracing the seam of her sex, slippery, slick and hot. I find the spots that make her gasp, that make her moan. Even one that makes her squeak. All the while, Ava does the same to me, both of us exploring one another, finding the most pleasure we can for the other. Her hand shuttles up and down my length, drawing heady pleasure up with each stroke, pleasure intense enough that I lose rational thought, I lose sense of time, I lose everything but that pleasure and this woman. This woman and the way she moves against my fingers in the rhythm she uses to massage me.

  “I need you inside me Micah,” Ava says, leaning into me, her hips moving over mine, her hand guiding me down to her, to where my fingers are exploring. Nothing seems more natural than completing this, joining with her and sharing this pleasure with her.

  “I am yours,” I say, moving my hands to her hips, fingers gripping tight in anticipation.

  Ava kisses me as she lowers herself, her warmth and wetness consuming me, engulfing me, immersing every nerve in my body with pure, uncomplicated bliss.

  It goes on until she is firmly atop me, no further to go, her mouth dropped open on a silent cry.

  “You feel so good,” she says, burying her head in my shoulder, clinging to me as her interior clenches around me, rippling and squeezing me the masterful way her fingers did. My wings embrace her on instinct, completing the circle. She is around me, I am around her. It is everything.

  “You too,” I say, skimming my hands down the smooth lines of her back as shudders continue to rumble through her. This closeness, this being together is so nice. And it feels amazing. No wonder people sin for this.

  I think that, and then Ava starts to move.

  That takes it to another level. She rolls her hips against me in a way that pulls her off of me before plunging d
own again. Over and over she does it, her mewling cries rising to the rafters, her fingers grasping at me for support.

  I’m lost. Lost in her, in the sensation, in the way her body seems to be made for mine, fitting together with me perfectly.

  “Micah… Oh god, Micah,” Ava cries, eyes locked on mine. I am not sure what is happening to her, but I am pretty sure it is happening to me too. And I want it to. I want it more than anything.

  “Ava,” I growl, kissing her with this fierce animal passion that overcomes me. I flip us, the new angle letting me in deeper — the only thing I want now, to be deeper inside of Ava — and I push. I thrust my hips, harder and faster, heedless of the creaking bed springs, ears only for Ava’s gasping cries begging for more.

  “Yes, oh fuck yes,” she screams, back arching as her body tightens around me, even her limbs encircling me with their embrace. It grips me too, the thing that carried Ava off, and my vision goes white, my body feels weightless, and for a brief moment, nothing is wrong. In fact, everything is perfect. The knowledge of that perfection floods through me, liquid heat pulsing out of me in an explosion that has been waiting to happen for centuries.

  “Damn,” Ava sighs, collapsing back onto the pillows. “If that’s how you do your first time…” She trails off with a happy look plastered on her face.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” I ask, smugly already aware of the answer as I lay with her and pull her into my arms.

  “Uh… What do you think?” she asks, pulling my hand to her breast before dragging it up over her heart — it’s racing.

  I lean over and kiss her, slow and languid this time, feeling her pulse slow and calm down as I draw it out and force her to control her breathing via my tongue in her mouth.

  It could be an effective route to successful meditation.

  As much as I love seeing her like this, awash with the glow of euphoria, it is going to take some time for me to erase all my programming. I extract myself from the bed long enough to fetch her shirt and bring it back, getting dressed myself.

  “Seriously?” she laughs. “After what we just did?”

  I shrug, frowning.

  She chuckles, shaking her head as she pulls the oversized shirt on, then yawns and waves me back over.

  “You gonna get mad if I stick my hand under your shirt?” she asks, doing just that, her palm hot against my skin, fingertips softly teasing my feathers, stoking the fires of desire back to life already.

  “Not at all,” I say, sliding my hand under her shirt, resting it in the indent of her waist for emphasis.

  That seems to satisfy her, and she curls up in my arms, against my chest. We lay there in silence for a long time, a companionable silence, like when we were meditating earlier. Eventually though, Ava drifts off, my fingers gently combing through her hair as she does.

  Before long, I’m falling asleep too, her soft snores lulling me into security.

  Mistake.

  Big. Mistake.

  I am jolted awake by the sudden appearance of a room full of Celestials, ripping Ava from my arms, dragging her away from me.

  “Ava!” I shout, leaping out of bed, shoving aside the first guy who stands between us.

  “Micah!” she cries, just as startled by everything as I am.

  I struggle to break free of the two Angels who are already restraining me, another joining the fray. There are six in total in this room, and only two of us. The odds aren’t good enough, and if they are already up here, at the highest point of the B&B, that means that they have already worked their way through the rest of the place.

  Dread fills me at the thought of what might be waiting for us downstairs.

  “Careful Ward,” one of the Angels says, the one holding Ava with her arms twisted behind her back.

  The fight goes out of me at the clear threat to her safety, and we are marched downstairs, directly to the bar. On the way, there is carnage as I feared, but no recognizable faces among the dead. Seems our side did pretty well for themselves.

  I reevaluate that thought once we are in the bar. Everyone — including the bartender Rue and the vampire Alistair — is here. The men — including the vampire — all appear to have put up a hell of a fight judging by their injuries, though no one appears mortally wounded.

  “Terrible timing for a privacy spell,” the Commander says, putting every cell in my body on alert.

  That bastard.

  The spell protected me and Ava as long as I was awake to maintain it, but the same magic that kept outsiders from hearing us, kept us from hearing them. When had the ambush started?

  This is all my fault.

  “I am disappointed in you, my son. I thought you, more than anyone else, might be able to resist this filthy Faerie whore,” the man I once looked to as a father says.

  “Do not speak to her like that,” I warn, fury blazing.

  “Or what?” he asks, sneering since I am restrained by a handful of men. “You have lost. You all have lost, and it’s about damn time,” he says, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. He looks at Kushiel, jaw tightening when he does.

  “You have evaded death by me twice, but make no mistake, it will not happen again. She’s not going to be able to save you—”

  “Oh, feck off,” Seamus says, spitting up blood on the floor, at the Commander’s feet. The Commander freezes, and for a moment, I think he might behead Seamus where he stands with the amount of unbridled anger radiating off of him. Then he smiles — a cruel, evil smile I never thought capable from an Angel.

  I have learned a lot of things I once thought impossible are actually fairly regular in Heaven’s Army.

  “You—” the Commander chuckles, sounding more unhinged than I have ever heard him. “Fifty-four assassins you have cost me — not even counting Kushiel here, you can’t be blamed for his bleeding heart. I should have taken care of you myself ages ago.”

  “Dude… Fifty-four?” Kush asks, blinking.

  Raj whistles.

  Despite being beaten and captured, probably breathing the last of their breaths, they cannot manage to be serious.

  “Fucking impressive,” Raj says, earning a knee to the ribs from one of the Celestials.

  “All this trouble… All this mess… I’m going to lose one of my best agents, all because of this—” Commander Onama says disdainfully, curling his lip as he looks at Ava with utter contempt. “This worthless Faerie whore.” He tuts. “Can’t say I even see the appeal to be honest. You have caused me quite the rash of problems,” he says, shaking his head at Ava.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t show up uninvited, dick,” she spits back at him, animosity flashing in her eyes.

  Without warning, the Commander backhands Ava, and her cry makes all of us jump at once, rushing to her defense.

  Raj is the first one to break free, turning with a well-aimed swing to the jaw of the Angel behind him. Another comes to his comrade’s aid, bending and running at Raj to tackle him. He pops out of the way, and the would-be tackler runs headlong into the bar, sending barstools toppling in a line like dominoes. It is distraction enough for Seamus to duck from his guard, sweeping his leg out to trip the Angel that just demolished the bar.

  Kush’s wings flare out suddenly, and it looks like he failed to display that new trick in the earlier fight, because Onama’s eyes go wide, and he stammers, backing up a pace from Ava.

  The whole place is chaos, and I fight like hell to free myself from the two Angels holding onto me, but they refuse to give even a little. Seamus and Kush are back-to-back, fighting Angels off, clearly flagging in strength and energy after their previous round, and Raj is tackled by three Angel enforcers at once, an unfortunate crack resounding through the air as he connects with the floor.

  “Enough,” Onama bellows, his hand firmly around Ava’s throat, squeezing tight enough I can see the imprints of his fingers digging in.

  I grind my teeth, pulling harder, ready to rend him limb from limb myself, but there is no getting free of the iron
grip restraining me. I have failed her.

  We all have. Even Seamus and Kush stop fighting when they see the clear and present threat to Ava’s safety.

  What even are we fighting for, if not for her?

  “Pathetic,” Onama scoffs.

  31

  Ava

  My cheek’s stinging where this angel guy just smacked me, and it’s getting harder to breathe with the way his hand’s starting to crush my windpipe. But that’s not what’s pissing me off. What’s pissing me off is the scared look in Ian’s eyes, the confusion in Rue’s. What’s pissing me off is these guys think they can just stomp in here and completely upend my world — never mind that part of ‘my world’ is these four guys, too; or that that’s only been going on for a matter of days in reality. This is my world. This is my land, and he knows it.

  “Onama, right?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him even though my voice is strained, not letting him see me working on what I’m going to say next. I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I’ve got to keep going. As long as I’m talking I’m alive. As long as I’m alive, there’s a chance. Somewhere behind me, I hear Ian whimper, and it reminds me how important this is. I have to play this right.

  I swallow best I can with his hand around my throat, and my eyes rove quickly over the ruins of The Shamrock, the sorry state of my guys and the fight they must’ve put up for me.

  It is not going to be for nothing.

  “You know, I’ve heard a lot about you,” I say. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”

  That gets his attention. He sneers at me, a cruel smile twisting his lips. I feel bad, because this guy is basically Micah’s dad, but damn he seems like a dick.

  I wish I could focus enough to get my powers to do something, anything, but I can’t. I’m struggling to clear my mind enough to stop panicking. I keep looking around at everyone, making sure they’re all alive even as they’re struggling. Angelic soldiers have my loved ones bound and gagged, guarded as prisoners.

  I might not be able to do anything with my magic right now, but he doesn’t know that — and this anger’s no bluff, that he can tell.