by Ace Gray
When his hands left my face so that I could pull his shirt free, a whimper slipped from my lips.
“Do you trust me?” he asked with a voice both ravenous and slightly scared.
I didn’t have a lot of reasons to, but the one I did, made me bite my lip and shake my head. He smiled shyly as a reply then moved away from me. I couldn’t help that my frown fell into place.
“I’ll kiss that away, promise.” A positively delicious crooked smile pulled on his cheek as he stood to loom over me.
As soon as I cracked a matching grin, he bent down and grabbed me. He cried out and it ripped at my heart; I almost slid back off him.
“Don’t ask me again, Filly. The only thing that hurts is my hard-on.”
I giggled despite the pain. Despite the up close view of the wounds and marred skin on his back, the scars that I moved to press my lips to. Brye snarled then shuddered beneath my lips. He all but threw me onto the bed and my heartbeat ticked up in anticipation of something savage, something wild. But that wasn’t what shone behind his eyes as he looked down on me.
“I’m going to worship you tonight. I’m going to pray at the only altar that may give me peace in this life or the next.”
It was my turn to shudder.
Still standing in full view at the foot of the bed, Brye reached for the button of his trousers. I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes as I tried to still my racing heart. When I heard the zipper of his fly stop halfway down, I coaxed my eyes open. He smiled as if he’d been waiting for me then unzipped his pants and let them fall to his ankles.
Black boxer briefs wrapped around his hips leaving little to the imagination. Somehow seeing him before didn’t matter, not now that we were carefully giving and taking something more than just flesh. I had to close my eyes again to drag in a steady breath. The butterflies inside my stomach just wouldn’t let me.
Again he waited in the vibrating silence between us. When I opened my eyes again, he pushed his briefs to the ground. I couldn’t help but groan.
Every muscle, every angle of Brye was perfect. Big and strong and power incarnate. The bruises and scars, even the blood still dried at his wrists made him even more delicious. That this beast wanted to slow down and stay sweet with me made my toes curl. He was beautiful and this time he was mine.
“Brye,” I groaned again, stretching out the syllables of his name, a match to the way I moved my limbs.
He prowled onto the bed but stopped short, reaching for my ankle. I winced as it stretched my torn skin and he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. He kept them closed as his fingers move deftly along my shin and his kisses followed.
I expected him to speak, to say some sort of sorry, but it was the way he kissed me, near the wound, full and hard, taking my breath away and leaving me with goosebumps that said everything. He kept his delicate hold on my ankle as his kisses traveled higher.
And higher and higher.
A wild blush flamed across my skin and my hands left the sheets behind to cover up my face as it blotched with the heat. When he settled between my thighs, he brushed his nose against my clit and I jerked. But then he waited and I could feel nothing but the subtle puff of his breath and the radiant heat from his cheeks. The idea that he was staring at my most intimate bits boiled the blood beneath my hands. The fact that he was just waiting made me split my fingers apart and peek down my body at him anyways.
Brye wasn’t staring. Not between my thighs anyway. He was looking up at me, waiting. The brush strokes behind his eyes were breathtaking, I could see canvas, how I’d paint them, and that they’d destroy me each time I chanced a look at them. My hands slid from my face and back down to my sides. He collected them in each of his big ones, twining our fingers together and giving me a soft squeeze where he held them at either side of my hips.
And then he went to work.
Color strummed through me in time with his tongue lapping at my sex. Brilliant yellow tinged with white and gold, even a hint of sunrise pink, making my world awash with new and bright and beautiful.
This was what I’d seen that morning on the hood of my car. This was why I’d stayed.
My hips bucked up and he growled, the sound echoing inside me. I gasped as he used his thumbs to push me back to the bed while keeping his grip on my fingers. He started rubbing tender circles on my hips as his tongue mimicked them on my clit.
Goosebumps that seemed tinged blue broke across my skin, making me feel a cooling breeze. It was the only reason I could let him keep going. His tongue folding around me, fondling inside. He made circles and circles and circles until my jaw hurt from the wild gasping breaths I couldn’t stop. Then he pushed inside me and let his tongue roll in long, leisurely laps. He was the waves of the world unending inside me.
“Brye,” I whimpered as my body started to quake.
I was close. So close. And I didn’t know if I wanted to dissolve into color complete or slow the world from spinning. I wanted the release, but I also wanted all of him. Needed all of him.
“Ahhhhhhh.” I jerked against him and threw my head back into the mattress. He was unrelenting, ratcheting up my need for him with every flick, every stroke. He was going to destroy any semblance of my control, any choice I had, any sense of self.
“Brye, please,” I gasped as I dug my fingernails into his hands where I held them.
“I will earn my absolution with your body,” he murmured then went back to work.
“You have forgiveness.” My heavy breath punctuated every word. “Just give me you.”
They were the magic words.
He stilled between my thighs and untangled his hands from mine. He sat back for a moment and in his eyes, I saw the same sunrise chasing away the dark that had flashed behind mine. I smiled as everything in me unwound and filled with relief.
And love.
Because I knew that’s what I felt now. As wrong or weird as it was, this man had spoken to the deep and untouched part of me. He had stumbled on his path, but he had sacrificed too. He showed me the world of shadow, he showed me the rest of myself. He wasn’t Prince Charming, but he was mine and meant to be so.
What he saw on my face as I realized, I’d never know, but he prowled toward me again, moving with such loaded restraint until his lips were level with mine. I craved his kiss with every fiber of my body. My lips parted and I wetted my bottom one as I angled toward him.
He hung above me, cruel for the way he made my anticipation as alive and wild in my skin as my almost-orgasm. I almost begged him, but he shifted. His big brawny forearms came down to cocoon my head as his equally strong body pressed against the length of me. I closed my eyes and relished the weight of him, so real and so right on me.
His nose ran up the length of mine then he twisted and brushed his lips along my cheek. He nuzzled along the curve of my ear as my eyes fluttered shut and when he bit down on my lobe with a soft nibble, I arched up into him with an untamed moan.
Only then did he swallow up the sound with his mouth. His kiss closed fully over mine as his fingers wove into my hair. The stony column of his erection pressed into the flat of my stomach but it was the way his chest pressed to mine and his heart beat against me that turned me on even more.
His kisses deepened, each a slow exploration my lips, each seeming like it was the first time he’d done so. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth, the shape of it, but he didn’t push his tongue to mine.
My hands slid up his and onto his back, knowing that I’d found the ink of his beautiful wings because of the slight difference in the texture of the skin and the wonderful shudder of his massive body. I’d stared enough times to move down from the wings to his lashed scars from memory. When my fingers traced the outline of the ones I could reach, he broke our kiss, only long enough to whimper. The sound itself made my body go rigid then melt with pleasure.
“I could die a happy man,” he murmured against my lips, the sound beautiful and pained.
I cou
ldn’t acknowledge the way that hurt my heart, the way it might kill me, but I could give him something to live for.
My hand slid from his back to his cock and I stroked. He closed his eyes and relished each of my movements. When I pushed at his boxer briefs, he sat back enough to shove them off completely. Heat bloomed across my cheeks and chest when I looked at him. At what was mine.
He lowered back down and my wild heart felt soothed just by his presence. His lips found mine again in a kiss never ending, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing ever would be. So I finally reached between us and slid him into the slickness he’d done so much to draw from me.
“Losing you would kill me.” My hands roved back to his scars, raised and rugged and wonderful beneath my fingertips. “Loving you might too.”
Her words. Her beautiful dove-song words. I wanted to live in them and revolt against them. I wanted to learn the meaning in her heart and the shape of her mind as she said them. And as I hovered so close to her, to finally taking her the way I wanted, as a man I could be proud of, I hesitated.
I wanted to keep her safe from either ending.
I dropped her lips and my head fell to the side of hers, the pain of what I might still cost her too heavy for me to bear. She twisted her lips to my ear, and much like I had, run her sweet skin down the curve of my ear.
“And what a way to go.” Her warm breath accompanied he soul-sweet words.
My heart thundered at the thought. That she’d seen the dark and death and destruction, heard the truth of it all, and chose that path anyways. Someone so perfect and pure wanted my brand of devotion and granted me dispensation.
“You’ve showed me the world, Brye. You showed me love.” She used her slight weight to push against me. “Let me show you.”
I knew what she was saying, and I was so torn. I didn’t want to take that next step and seal our fate, but I needed to know what her brand of milk and honey might taste like. The desires warred inside of me. It was one thing to have her then die for her. When she made it sound like she’d stand beside me against the rapture…
“Let me show you,” she repeated, pushing hard on my body until I gave.
Gently Filly turned me and slid her slight thighs onto either side of my hips, missing every bruise she could. She didn’t slide onto me just yet, instead pressing my dick to my stomach and into the slick of her sex. She rocked those devilish little hips once, twice, three times and my hands automatically reached for them.
Her small hands wrapped around one of my wrists and pulled it from her skin and up to her lips. She pressed a kiss that spoke of adoration and apology where it was angry red and caked with blood from Horse’s bonds. When her lips pulled away, she reached for my other arm and pulled it similarly to her lips. I shuddered and she simply pressed them together and kissed the wary bones of my wrists then guided them both to the hem of the oversized shirt she still wore.
I didn’t bite.
As if she expected it, her fingers traced up my arms to my back and danced with the top feathers of my tattoo that seemed to rustle in her breeze. I could feel the way I would soar with her, the way her delicate touch would push me higher. But then she let her hands wander back up my shoulders and down the contours of my chest to land on the brand.
“I don’t think I’d mind being marked with one of these.” She traced the scabbed edges of my wound.
“Filly—”
“No, I mean it. I’d be proud of any part of me that is yours.”
I shivered.
“This man, the one that broke himself down and built himself back up for me…”
She took my hands and made me grip the fabric of her shirt again. And this time I sat up with her still heavy on my hips and pulled the last bit of her clothes off. I sucked in a deep breath from the pain of the sudden movement and because something perfect and pristine sat in front of me.
I’d seen her naked, I’d lusted over her, but this was different. This was willing and right. This was her giving herself to me with such beautiful words they made even her perfect little body pale in comparison.
“I think you give me too much credit,” I said softly as I gingerly lowered my body back to the bed, my eyes locked on her.
“Then you don’t see what I see,” she answered with a shy smile as she leaned down. Her sunshine blonde hair created this curtain that hid us from the outside world. Her big eyes sparkled despite being a little hooded, and those plump lips that had originally bewitched me, formed the perfect kiss, just before she leaned forward pressed them to the tip of my nose.
I couldn’t help but laugh low and husky.
“There you are,” she murmured in my ear just before she pressed a kiss just to the side of my jaw.
The answering purr in my chest vibrated against her. She worked her kisses along my jaw, nibbling in the thick scruff as she explored my skin. My hands found the curve of her shoulders and pressed her chest hard against mine. My fingers wandered where her wings would be and the soft, velvet of her skin almost convinced me they were real.
She was the angel who’d saved me, who’d damned me after all.
I was lost to the feel of her, to her unrelenting kisses, and I didn’t notice that the grind of her hips had changed. She’d slid her body upwards and arched her back just so. I could feel the heat of her, the slickness too. My breath caught in my throat, anticipation tightened my chest, and I felt the moment her body pulled taut like a rubber band to match.
But then she shifted and I was notched against her slit.
The rush of blood in my body was a roar behind my ears that moved to deafening as she slid down me. She let out a throaty groan as she took me and when she sat up and almost swallowed me whole, she whimpered like I was too much for her.
I felt like a God.
And when she started flexing her thighs, working herself up and down on me, reveling in me, I could have torn the heavens into bits.
I wanted to watch her. I want to see how her slight arms pushed her teardrop tits together as she clawed into my stomach and the gentle sway of her as she did it all. But I couldn’t. I fucking couldn’t do anything but throw my head back and groan. She felt so good. Tight and velvet and warm. She wasn’t a perfect fit, I was too big and I felt like I might split her apart. The fact that she might let me was the best part.
Everything about Filly was.
When her hands slipped from my body and she cried out, I managed to tip my head forward and keep my eyes slit just enough to see her. She wore the agony of ecstasy on her face as she let her arms slide up her body and tangle into her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut as she let her head fall back, surrendering to the rise and fall of her body.
I watched the masterpiece above me, mouth open, gasping for air, transfixed by the sway of her tits. She was something precious I never deserved, but now that I had her, fuck was I going to keep her. The need to consume her, mark her as mine, and keep her that way was building in me, wound up with an orgasm that was coming too fucking fast.
Surrendering to the beast inside, I reached for her ribs and turned her. She whined when I slipped out, but when I bent to take her nipple into my mouth, it turned into a wild moan. I twisted her delicate skin in my mouth then dug my teeth in.
Filly screamed and her nails dug into my sides. I growled and bit harder. She added to the tatters of my back with sharpened claws, letting something even more primal seep out of me. I played with her nipple just a minute more. A minute I couldn’t do anything but think of how I’d devour her whole.
Then I thrust into her roughly and without warning, relishing her cries. Her legs wrapped around mine, twining us together but her hands fell from me as if she just couldn’t work them anymore. They reappeared between us, covering her eyes momentarily then dragging down her neck and clawing at her own skin. She was unraveling beneath me and I was going to relish the pieces.
I thrust into her harder, pulling out all the way before shoving back in. Her whole body shook and I just wanted to
see it again, and again, and again. Feel every inch.
“Take it Filly,” I grunted through gritted teeth.
“Anything, Brye,” she gasped back, her breathy words the punctuation to the roll of my hips.
“Everything,” I ground out as I slipped my hand between us.
I flicked her clit and she whimpered, her hands still wheeling at her throat like she was desperate to get out of her skin. I worked on her as I pumped in and out, wanting to feel the spectacular release she would have squeeze along my dick. Her hips bucked, urging me to pick up pace. I did with both my thrusts and the circles I made on her clit.
Her breathing became even more labored, her cries whisper quiet but constant. Her hands stilled, her fingers turning white where they clung just below her collarbone. The rest of her body went rigid and her mouth fell open. Her hips shoved up and her head back. I didn’t need to know the ins and outs of her soul to know she was going to break. I wanted every piece.
I watched as best I could through my own haze, my finger didn’t stop moving, my hips either, until she shattered. A singular cry barely preceded her entire body melting with a few savage jerks. I slowed my hips and stopped my circles, partially because I wanted to feel everything about that moment, partially because I couldn’t keep myself going.
She was incredible.
I wanted to grab her hands, stretch her out and stop her from destroying the sensitive skin overtop of her collarbone but I couldn’t bring myself to move. And when that velvet pussy of hers clenched down on me, I lost my goddamned mind completely.
My name dripped from her lips in breathless quiet cries and her body clung to mine. Her orgasm was every bit of her I wanted. Every bit of the body that I needed. I even felt forgiveness in that sort of surrender.
All of it together was what pushed me toward my own release. I pumped my hips feeling the almost sloppy slide of us then I flicked her clit again and she jerked. She clenched down on my cock again, renewing the waves of an aftershock on me. I moved harder and faster into her, using the combination to race to my own orgasm.