Angels Fall (Original Sin Book 2)

by JA Huss

  I shrug and raise my eyebrows.

  “You’re unreal,” she says.

  “Thank you,” I say back, proudly.

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  “I know.”

  I slap my hands on her ass and pull her to me, kissing her like a wild animal. I keep kissing as I play with her tail, moving it in and out of her asshole as she gasps and moans. I touch her face with my free hand and let my fingers find their way into her mouth. She sucks on them, still jerking wantonly on the hilt of my cock as I work the metal stem that’s in her ass back and forth, around and around.

  Her breathing accelerates and she starts shaking. I know what this foretells. I’ve been with her enough now to know the exact moment she’s going to come. I yank my fingers free from her mouth, and let them work themselves up into her pussy, stroking the inside of her walls as I continue forcing the tail deeper into her ass.

  “Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” she squeaks out. I punish the walls of her pussy more urgently, work the metal at the end of the fur hanging between her legs a little harder, and suddenly…

  She is squirting all over me.

  All over my fingers, all over my legs, all over my stomach, and as I finger her harder, trying to snap off my own wrist in the process, she keeps drenching us both.

  The wailing moan that comes from within her seems to last for minutes, and the amount of wetness that’s pouring from her onto me rivals what’s happening with the rushing river outside. And it’s even more beautiful.

  “OK! OK! Whoa, whoa. I gotcha,” I say, as she begins collapsing to the floor and I hold her around the waist, lowering her carefully to the ground. Once she’s all the way down, she slaps at my hands, unconsciously, and I pull them away, palms up. She’s still twitching and shivering, still leaking out onto the concrete, and I’m still as hard as the rocks in the wall and still smiling like a maniac.

  “Looks like we broke the dam.” I chortle.

  She slaps the ground with her palm and says, “Fuck! Fuck me! What. The fuck. Was that?”

  A thought runs through my mind. A joke actually. And I debate with myself for a second before saying it, I really do. Because the thing about being a smartass like I am is that I’m aware of the shit I’m saying, I just can’t help saying it. It’s not that I don’t know I’m probably gonna get myself in trouble when I open my mouth. I do. But I always weigh the consequences of what’s about to take flight from my lips, and then almost always decide that the risk is worth the cost.

  So I take a breath, bend down close to her, stroke the hair half-covering her flushed and spent face, and say…

  “I dunno. Maybe you could ask your mom.”

  Chapter Eighteen - Maddie & Tyler

  MADDIE

  I just blink at him. I feel like I do that a lot with Tyler. Like he’s an ever-moving maze, a puzzle I’m trying to find my way through. “What?”

  “Too far?” He winces.

  And then I laugh. Because, well, the joke was funny if you were there. And I was.

  “See,” he says, kissing my lips, then giving one a little nip with his teeth. “I am funny. At least, I’m your kind of funny.”

  I reach up, place both my hands on each side of his face, and smile. “Thank you,”

  “For…? Because I think I should be thanking you right about now.”

  “Later,” I say, letting my hands fall to his shoulders. Because I have a very long answer for his question and now isn’t the time. I dig my nails in the hard muscles of his back, just enough to make him draw in a breath and close his eyes for one prolonged moment.

  He opens them back up. The joking is gone and the wild side is back.

  I like his jokes, don’t get me wrong. Tyler Morgan is as witty as they come. Always has been and I absolutely love that about him. But sometimes I just want the raw and the real.

  Like now.

  I climb into his lap and he adjusts the both of us so he can lean back against the hard, jagged rock wall. It’s gotta hurt—all those ragged edges digging into his skin—but maybe he doesn’t feel pain? Or maybe he likes it?

  I lift my hips up, letting that thought trail away for another time too, and reach for his cock. “We’re not done yet,” I say.

  “Not even close,” he whispers back. Our eyes are locked as I position him underneath me, our breathing matched. We smile simultaneously. And then I lower myself down on top of him.

  I want to close my eyes as he enters me again. And the fact that he’s playing with the tail as this happens makes it almost impossible to keep them open. But I do keep them open. I don’t want to miss a single second of this.

  “Relax,” I say. “I got this now.”

  He chuckles a little. “I’m about as relaxed as it gets, Maddie.”

  “Not quite,” I say, placing the tip of my finger above his eye and softly tracing downward so he has to close it. Being Tyler, he complies. Sorta. Because the other eye stays open in a wink. Which is cute, and adorable, and so genuinely him, I want to laugh. But I don’t. I just close the other eye too, then lean into his neck and whisper, “Let me take care of you now.”

  He huffs out a little bit of air, but he doesn’t open his eyes. So I start moving on top of him. My hips slowly rocking forward and back, my clit skimming against his lower abs just enough to drive myself wild without meaning to.

  I grab his shoulders again just as his hands squeeze both my ass cheeks, trying to pull me forward. Trying to get deeper inside me.

  The fur of the fox tail brushes against my skin, and the feeling of being filled up from both ends is starting to make me crazy for him again, but I suck in a breath, hold it, and stay calm as I hover above him, just slightly, just enough to deny his silent request.

  “You’re fucking torturing me,” he says, hands on my hips now, urging me to just sit down. Let him fully inside me.

  “No,” I say. “I’m making you slow down, that’s all. Take a look around. Enjoy it, moment by moment.”

  The hiss of air he exhales has a touch of frustration in it. But only a touch. Because sometimes slow is good. Sometimes you just gotta let go. And he knows this is one of those times.

  It’s perfect. I mean, nothing’s perfect, but this feels perfect. Like all the bad stuff is gone now. Like we’ve got a handle on all this shit. Like maybe… maybe we’re even in it together.

  Which would be nice, for once. To have a partner. To rely on someone. To know I’m not alone.

  I bet he feels that way too.

  I continue to move my hips, letting him stay inside me, but not giving in completely. Not yet. My fingertips thread up through his hair as I lean down into his neck and begin to kiss. His earlobe, which makes him sigh. Then down his neck until I’m kissing the base of his throat.

  He holds absolutely still, his large hands gripping my ass in a hard squeeze. Maybe it’s because my position has him deeper inside me? Maybe it’s because it feels so good, he just goes with it? Kinda surrenders. Or maybe it’s because he wants to remember this moment for later? Burn it into his brain and keep it there like a good-luck charm.

  That’s why I go still.

  I want to hold this moment in my head forever.

  “Maddie,” he says.

  But I keep kissing him, letting my name fade into the darkness.

  His eyes remain closed, but his hands begin to move me, his firm grip on my hips pushing me forward, then back. Forward, then back. It’s enough to drive me crazy because each time my clit slides along his skin.

  I bow my head and give in, just like he did. Sink my forehead into his chest as his lips find my neck now. He kisses me as I remain still. He rocks us back and forth as I breathe through the slow-building excitement inside me.

  It’s not hard and fast, like the other times we’ve fucked. It’s something else. Something softer. Something natural. A lazy, easy motion that feels more like the rocking of a boat than the crashing of thunder.

  He’s relaxed. Maybe for the first time since we�
��ve become reacquainted. Totally at ease down here in this dark tunnel.

  This is different. Something more than fucking. Something better than sex.

  This is… maybe… love?

  Maybe this is what it feels like?

  If you’d have asked me if this slow motion would be enough to make me come before I met Tyler all those weeks ago, I’d have laughed. Sex was something physical. Something hard and fast. An act completed hastily in an alley or a hotel bedroom.

  And even though we’ve done it that way, and those times were all great, this… this isn’t that. This is more. And the climax I didn’t think possible is building. Not because our bodies are merged, but because our emotions are.

  “God. Dammit,” Tyler whispers.

  I know what he means. Goddammit. This is something new. Something unexpected. Something we both seem to need. And want, too.

  He bites my ear, then my neck. One of his hands lets go of my hip to play with the fox tail, moving it in and out. Making me gasp and hold my breath as the feeling of both his cock and the plug rubbing against each other inside me take hold of all those slow, easy thoughts. Because… you know, sex is still sex. It makes you do things you don’t have to think about. Becomes primal. Basic instinct. Just desire and…

  “Maddie,” he says, his chest moving up and down quickly, like there’s not enough air to fuel him.

  “Come,” I whisper into his ear. “Just come. Inside me. Right now.”

  He moans out. Just a grunt. But it’s a yes, and that’s all I needed to know.

  I let go of everything as he stiffens. I let go of the past, and the present. I think about nothing but us, together, in this moment. I don’t care that it means something. It doesn’t matter.

  I. Just. Let. Go.

  I feel him release inside me. Slick heat as his cock throbs against the walls of my pussy.

  And that’s it. I am there. With him. Waves of pleasure shiver up my body, making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

  And I feel… I feel like somehow… heaven has touched me.

  Tyler Morgan has found my filthy soul and washed it clean.

  He caught me, mid-fall, and lifted me back up with him.

  Yes. That’s exactly how I feel.

  TYLER

  With her sitting in my lap, staring at me, flooded in our shared desire, I see my whole, rotten life reflected in her eyes. In her knowledge of me. In who I was. In who I am. In who I might one day be. Our connection with each other is as ancient as the sodden shelter that hosts us, as strong as the power it generates, and as beautiful and complicated as the machinery that keeps it all at bay.

  In other words… Shit just got real as fuck.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  She nods. “You’re welcome. Thank—”

  “Pleasure’s mine.” I cut her off.

  Smiles are shared. Smiles turn into giggles. Giggles turn into laughs. And laughs turn into me saying, “Sorry, sorry, I need you to hop off, you’re gonna break my nuts.”

  More laughing as she lifts herself up, goes to her backpack, and pulls out a towel.

  “That’s some Girl Scout shit right there,” I say.

  “Always prepared,” she muses back, then says, “Umm…”

  “What?”

  “I gotta take this thing off. Out. Whatever.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, I guess you do. You want… help?”

  She gnaws at her lips, which is cute as hell. “I guess?”

  She laughs. I laugh. We’re a regular basket of fuckin’ giggles all of a sudden.

  I love it.

  I stand, cross over to her, turn her around, and take hold of the tail.

  “You good?” I ask.

  “We’ll see.”

  I bend over, kiss her on both ass cheeks, and as I do…

  “Oh, shit!” she gasps, as I withdraw the metal plug, kissing and massaging her as it goes. I toss the tail to the side, turn her to face me, and kiss her mouth while continuing to massage her sweet, sweet ass with both hands.

  “So,” I say into her kiss, “how was your first first date, Ms. Clayton?”

  She snorts then says, “Considering I was expecting dinner and a movie, not bad.”

  I love this girl. So much so that I almost say it. Almost. But it feels like I’m doing things right so far, and so I’m gonna just play it safe.

  It does occur to me that I don’t play it safe when I have something sarcastic to say, but when there’s something deeply sincere I could share, I hold back. But now’s not the time to jump into that psychological fox hole (pun one hundred percent intended), that’s what I pay Dr. Eldridge for.

  “What?” That’s me. Maddie’s stroking some of my tangled mess of hair out of my face, wearing a look that’s not quite sadness, not quite concern, but is definitely their second cousin.

  “Nothing,” she says, “Just… I dunno how I didn’t recognize you. You’re so… you.”

  “I didn’t recognize you either.”

  “Dude, I was thirteen and I barely had tits when you last actually saw me. And when you saw me again I was wearing a wig. And dancing in a strip club.”

  “Valid points.”

  “But you… you’re the same guy I remember. Except just more… hirsute, obviously.”

  I nod at her, thoughtfully. Then ask, “Hirsute means hairy, right?”

  “Yes, Tyler.” She sighs.

  “Right. That’s like a whole fetish category on my favorite porn website.”

  She rolls her eyes, pushes away from me, and starts toweling herself off.

  “I dunno,” I say, “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t feel the same.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. Maybe? Yes and no. I mean nobody really changes after the age of, like ten, they just get taller. But after you hit double digits, you’re pretty much locked, personality-wise. That’s my theory, anyway.”

  “That’s an insane theory.”

  “Um, yeah. Have we met? Of course it’s insane. Duh. But I stand by it.”

  She smirks and shakes her head.

  “That said,” I go on, “spending every day almost literally dying for a few years will give you a whole new perspective on shit. I mean, really, everybody’s always right on the edge of dying all the time anyway so there’s nothing special about it, but when you’re in war, you just become more aware of it, I guess.”

  She’s done toweling off and is pulling on her jeans now. She offers me the towel, but I wave it off. I want what we made to dry into my skin and become part of me. I want to smell like us for pretty much the rest of my life.

  I start pulling on my jeans too, stopping just before fastening the top button.

  “How did Scotty die?” I ask.

  She’s bending down to pick up her bra, and pauses for a second.

  I continue, “In my apartment—old apartment—you asked me if I knew how Scotty died. I thought I did. I obviously don’t. How did he? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

  If shit hadn’t gotten real before, it’s sure as hell real now. But I needed to ask. Because… fuck it. She and I both know why.

  She exhales, then keeps getting dressed, putting on her bra and t-shirt while she tells me.

  “The stuff that you know happened. It did. He, uh, was fighting that fire in Colorado, and, um, y’know, went to push the other guy out of the way of some timber he saw coming down, like I think you must’ve heard about…”

  She glances at me. I nod. She goes on.

  “So, yeah, all that happened, but uh, yeah, that’s… that’s not how he died.”

  She doesn’t look my way and I don’t say anything. She sits down on the ground, putting on her shoes now.

  “Uh, all that did was, like, um, crush his spine, but it didn’t kill him. But the other guys couldn’t drag him out right away because there was so much fire and shit raining down around them that every time they’d get close, they’d have to back away. So, y’know, the whole time he’s
trapped under this burning, like, fucking, whatever. So y’know, he’s just stuck there, inhaling smoke, fire burning through his turnout gear. Through the moisture barrier and down to the thermal layer, so basically he’s just being baked like a potato in tin foil—I know all this stuff because the doctors and everybody explained it to me.”

  She’s tying her shoes.

  “And so finally they got to him and somehow, like, somehow, he was still alive, and they got him out of there, and actually got him to the hospital, and got him into surgery right away, and... Oh, and so we got there like the next morning, and uh, and we were there for… ten days? I guess? Two weeks almost? Whatever. And so...”

  She’s standing now. Putting on her jacket.

  “So he had a couple skin grafts, and like there was some discussion about how to repair his spine and if it could even be repaired, and how traumatic it would all be given the severity of his burns, and of course the whole time his lungs are filling with fluid and having to be drained and filling again, and…”

  She pauses for a breath.

  “...And, uh, so... So, yeah, so on like day ten or twelve or whatever it was, after watching this all happen, mom and dad were out of the room, and I was sitting alone with him, and watching him on the oxygen, and unconscious, and all of it, and it just seemed like fuck, y’know? Like even if he comes out of this there would still be this, like, insane, impossible mountain to climb. And it just seemed... fuckin’... cruel to ask him to do that. And selfish. I mean the doctors wanted to save him because that’s their job, and the other firefighters wanted to save him because that’s their job, and like me and mom and dad wanted to save him because… Because of US. Right? Like WE wanted to keep him. But, shit, even if he could make it… What kind of life is that? And look, I dunno. I dunno what Scotty would’ve wanted if it was the other way around and it was me, or mom, or dad, or... You... Laying there. But I figured I’d just let him know that... Just give him the chance to decide what he wanted to do for himself. Because, you know. Scotty… If Scotty thought he was doing something for other people he’d just keep doing it, and I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to. So... When it was just me and him, I leaned in, and I told him, ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to keep going. It’s OK. You can stop climbing now, Scotty...”