Power of Love

by Barabara Elsborg

  Watching himself slide in and out of her mouth mesmerized Joe. She tried to take him deeper and Joe had to lean forward, rest one hand on the back of a chair. Fortunately the chair was up against the wall, otherwise he suspected it would have slid out under the pressure. Poppy’s head dropped back over the end of the table and Joe slid deeper into her mouth. She gasped and he tried to pull out, thinking she couldn’t breathe but she made a mewling sound and sucked him back.

  Poppy stiffened beneath him as she came and swallowed his cock down to his balls. Joe’s world winked out and so did his wings. It felt like his back had exploded at the same time as his dick. Poppy’s throat vibrated against him and Joe’s cum flashed from his balls like bullets. Her hands clasped his backside, one finger pressing against his asshole. Poppy kept him where he was but Joe’s knees had locked.

  He expected the orgasm to fade but it kept going. Joe pulled back from her mouth so she could breathe and settled his cock between her breasts. Poppy’s hands slid to press the creamy mounds around him, massaging his dick and his cum kept firing. What the fuck was happening? Not that he was complaining. Jesus, his balls were ablaze.

  Rather than the gripping spasms lessening in intensity, they seemed to be increasing. Joe worried his head might blow off and then his other head did instead. In one final ecstatic burst, he soaked her breasts and neck with his juice and Joe roared her name.

  “Poppy!”

  His wings launched a frenzied flutter and tipped Joe off the table.

  Poppy dropped to his side. “God, Joe, are you okay?”

  He pulled her into his arms.

  “My angel,” she whispered and pressed her lips to his.

  Joe tasted himself, tasted her and wrapped his wings around them. Poppy was wrong. She was his angel.

  Chapter Ten

  Poppy wasn’t sure she was still alive. Her ears rang, her eyesight wavered in and out of focus and she shook from head to foot. Joe held her wrapped in his arms and in his wings, his lips pressed against her neck. Good grief, it was hot under all those feathers.

  “I’m roasting,” she said.

  One wing unfurled and then Joe yelped. “Shit, I’m on fire.”

  Poppy sprang into action. She grabbed a half-drunk glass of water from the counter and tossed it onto the smoldering feathers. The fire went out and Poppy sighed with relief.

  “Okay?” she asked.

  “Only singed. Jesus what a horrible smell.”

  The smoke alarm agreed, its loud bleep deafening. Poppy laughed. She grabbed a chair and climbed up to take out the battery but the cover proved impossible to pry off. Joe’s wing tip pushed her hand aside and flipped the whole detector off the ceiling. It crashed to the floor and broke into pieces, the battery flying under the stove.

  “Joe!”

  “What? I stopped it, didn’t I?”

  The phone rang. Poppy lifted it off the hook and bit her lip.

  “Sorry…no, no fire…yes…sorry…toast. No, it won’t happen again. Sorry to have disturbed you.”

  Joe took the phone from her hand and put it down.

  “Ooh, you fibber,” he said.

  “The guy downstairs. I didn’t think he’d go for the “my angel just set fire to his wing” so I improvised. Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

  “I’m in excruciating agony.”

  Poppy sighed. “What a pity. No more sex then.”

  “It’s a miracle. I’m better.” Joe looked up. “Thanks, G.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think I want to stand next to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because when that thunderbolt arrives, I don’t want to get caught up in the fireball. Mind you, I’ve got so much of your cum all over me, I don’t think I could catch fire.”

  Joe growled. Poppy grabbed a fresh cloth from under the sink and wiped her breasts.

  “I also can’t help but notice your wings are still a dirty shade of pale so you haven’t given me enough mind-blowing, orgasmic sex to turn them white.” She sighed. “I’m so disappointed.”

  Joe’s growl grew deeper and he took a step nearer.

  “Mind you, that last time, Joe, what the hell happened? You seemed to get a second wind or something.”

  “Poppy.”

  “I didn’t think guys could come and come and—”

  “Shut up,” he snapped and tossed her over his shoulder. Poppy ran her hands down his feathers and Joe nipped her backside. She squealed and got another nip. He carried her through to the bedroom, dropped her on the bed and stood glaring at her. Poppy tried not to look at his erection and failed.

  “You’re hard again,” she said.

  “Oh, really?”

  Poppy sniggered. “Er…Joe. Noticed anything different lately?”

  “What sort of different?”

  “Your cock.”

  He looked down and gasped. “Fucking hell.”

  “Not just my imagination then. I mean you were already…er…generously endowed, but—”

  “Maybe that’s what Desiree meant about angels having fabulous sex. They get enhancements. Bigger, better and longer lasting.”

  Poppy tried to stop her mouth quivering but Joe saw. He dropped down next to her and kissed her, a long sloppy kiss that he slurped to the end of her nose. “Stop worrying. I don’t care about sex with angels, I just care about sex with you.”

  “Only because you don’t have an angel to have sex with. Maybe angels—”

  “Poppy, don’t.”

  She shut her mouth.

  “Want to go for a ride, test the equipment, see if it’s in working order?” He grinned.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He bent, pressed his mouth to hers then pulled away. “Say yes.”

  “No.”

  Joe fit his mouth over her ear and dipped his tongue inside. “Go on.”

  He pushed his leg between her thighs and she rubbed her clit against him. He groaned. Poppy whimpered and felt a spurt of dampness leak from her.

  “Let me,” he whispered.

  Not that Poppy had intended to stop him but his gentle kisses gave way to something more raw and primitive. Their hands roamed each others bodies as the kisses grew more passionate. Poppy touched flesh, feathers, ran her fingers along his jaw, up the taut column of his neck until she cupped his face. Joe ground himself into her, his cock rubbing against her soft mound. She breathed in the sexy scent of him. Stronger somehow. She listened to his breathing, deep inhalations as he held himself over her. Poppy looked into his eyes and saw love even if he couldn’t say it.

  “Fuck me, Joe,” she whispered and opened her legs.

  He groaned and adjusted his position so he could press the head of his cock against the entrance to her body. Poppy wriggled and trails of pleasure began trickling paths inside her, sending tingles to the tips of her toes.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Joe said.

  “I’ll hurt you if you stop now.”

  He let out a choked laugh.

  Joe pressed the rounded crest of his cock into her, kept pressing and letting her adjust until he was buried to the hilt. His face was taut with concentration. Poppy lifted a hand and pushed his hair from his eyes.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered. “But you always feel good.”

  He flexed his hips and began to move. Poppy sighed and wrapped her legs around him under his wings. Joe thrust into her with relentless long strokes, driving her up the bed. Poppy clasped his back, hung on as he powered into her. She came almost at once, flowing on a hot torrent of lava, a molten riptide of lust that swept away everything in its path, destroying her capacity to think, but setting her on fire with pleasure.

  Joe moved into a rapid, fast, pulsing movement, the friction winding her again. He changed the angle of his hips and Poppy shuddered with pleasure as her pussy gripped him tightly. Aware in the periphery of her mind that she could no longer feel the bed beneath her, Poppy clung tighter to Joe.

  Fuck, they were float
ing! His wings were out and didn’t appear to be moving but maybe that was because they were going so fast. Poppy felt the heat of Joe’s cum firing into her and rather than her climax fade, it clicked into a higher gear. Her internal organs played musical chairs as her stomach leapt into her throat, her heart dropped into her stomach and her brain nestled firmly between her legs. There were in the air, hovering over the bed. Poppy was under Joe, over Joe as he spurted again and again and finally, Poppy fell kicking and screaming into the orgasm of her life.

  Joe’s heartbeat seemed dangerously high. If he hadn’t already been dead, he might have thought a cardiac arrest was imminent. He felt like he’d been caught up in a thunderstorm and his groin hit repeatedly by bolts of lightning. He shook with electric passion. They lay now on the bed but he’d flown with Poppy, fucked her as they flew.

  He’d known something different was happening this last time. Every lick, suck, caress and thrust of his cock had sent sensation shooting to the end of every feather. The tightening, twisting spasms had built and grown until Joe had exploded into another realm. Not only did he feel different but Joe had felt every nuance of Poppy’s pleasure in a way he’d never done before. Touching her, touched him. When she came, he felt every contraction, every vibration in his body. He was in her fucking head. How could that be? This was angel sex? Fuck, Joe wondered how they ever got out of bed. Only it made him sad not happy. He loved sex but if he had the choice between that and Poppy, he knew what he’d choose.

  Joe knew he’d found the answer. He’d had to let the dam burst and his soul escape to see how important she was to him. Joe held himself tense, waiting for some triumphant fanfare telling him he’d got it, but nothing happened.

  Poppy snuggled back against him and Joe pulled her close, so they spooned together. His wings had gone again and he was relieved. Joe wasn’t sure he could cope with sex like that all the time. Maybe not more than a couple of times a night. Not that he’d get chance to do that again with Poppy. That had been his finale.

  I’m letting you go. Be happy, Pop. You deserve to be happy.

  When Joe woke, he didn’t want to open his eyes. Aware Poppy still lay by his side, wrapped in his arms, he smiled. Then he wondered how long she’d be there. What would happen when his wings came out? Would he disappear in a flash? No time to say goodbye? Oh God, he didn’t want to leave her. His hand snaked over her hip and pulled her against him. Poppy wriggled her silky backside against his swollen dick and she moaned. Joe ached, but he still wanted her. As he dropped his lips to her neck, he heard a rustling noise on the other side of the room.

  “Good morning,” said Desiree in a tone of voice that implied it was the worst morning she’d ever had in her life or indeed after her life had ended and in a moment Joe would find that it was certainly the worst morning in his life too.

  Joe’s erection deflated like a punctured balloon.

  “This isn’t working,” Desiree said.

  Poppy’s hand slid into his under the covers.

  Desiree sighed. “I give up. Are you ready to go?”

  Poppy rolled over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, he’s not.”

  Joe tensed. This way of leaving her was worse than falling from the warehouse roof. He had to just do it. Prolonging it would only make matters worse. Joe pulled Poppy’s arms from his neck. He grabbed a pillow to hide his tackle and leapt from the bed, his heart ready to burst with the unfairness of everything. Joe felt a prickling sensation down his spine and then the room erupted with feathers, a vase of flowers went flying and he was sneezing over and over again.

  “Joe,” Poppy called.

  He turned, caught the lamp on her side of the bed with a wing tip and knocked it over.

  “Joe. Look.”

  Joe didn’t dare move. He might decapitate someone. Probably himself.

  “Oh dear. What a disappointment,” Desiree said.

  Poppy bounced on the bed, a broad grin on her face. She clutched the sheet to her chest, but her breasts jiggled underneath and Joe’s cock perked up behind the pillow. He was pathetic.

  “Your wings are still gray,” Poppy yelled. “Gray not white. Look at them.”

  Joe tried to maneuver without destroying the room. He folded one wing over the other in front of him and dropped the pillow. They didn’t look white unless they were white wings he’d made dirty. If so, he’d made a consistent job of mucking them up.

  “I thought I’d fathomed out what I had to do,” Joe said feeling pleased and disappointed at the same time. So much for his police skills. He was supposed to be good at figuring things out. “I thought I had to recognize that it wasn’t Poppy’s fault and let her go, but it must be something else.”

  Desiree stared at him. “You want to keep trying?”

  “Do I get a choice?”

  She didn’t reply. Joe thought about it. She’d told him he had to do this. Seekers have to earn their feathers. Joe didn’t give a shit about having white wings but this wasn’t about him. It was about Poppy.

  “Yes, I want to keep trying,” Joe said and gave Desiree a sad smile.

  The angel nodded and flew through the wall.

  Poppy whistled. “Wow, can you do that? On second thoughts, don’t try.”

  Joe carefully moved onto the bed and lay facedown.

  “I wonder what it is you have to do to get white feathers?”

  “I was sure I’d got that right, accepting what a dick I’d been.”

  Poppy stroked his wings from the point they came out of his body as far down as she could reach. Joe’s mind turned straight to mush and he purred like a lazy cat. That felt so good. He could lie there for hours and let Poppy stroke him.

  She suddenly gasped.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You look…wrong, Joe.”

  “Yeah, I don’t feel so good. I thought it was hunger, but I’m not so sure now.”

  “Desiree said you’d become ill the longer you took to find the right thing to do.”

  There was an ache in his bones he hadn’t felt before. Joe wondered how bad things would get.

  “I’ve been thinking, maybe I know what it is.” Poppy took a deep breath. “DCS Watson told me yesterday that Buxton is planning to come back to England to see his mother who’s dying. He warned me to be on my guard because I’m the only witness to Buxton shooting you. Maybe you’re supposed to find Buxton, tell me where he is so I can tell…your…boss.” Poppy’s voice trailed away.

  Joe had sat up and his mouth had fallen open. She put her finger under his chin and pressed up, clashing his teeth together.

  “And you were going to tell me this, when?” Joe’s wings began to shrink. “You didn’t think this was important enough to let me know before now?”

  Poppy squirmed.

  “The guy’s a psycho, Poppy. You need proper protection.”

  “Your boss said he’d make sure I was okay and they’re watching points of entry.”

  Joe gave a snort of disgust. “Buxton made a bloody living out of sneaking people into the country illegally. I can’t think he’ll have much problem getting in under the radar. I don’t want you to go to work. Call in sick or something.”

  “Okay.”

  Joe frowned. “That was much too easy.”

  “Day off.” She grinned.

  The irony that Joe now intended to spend his time trying to save her life, when if she died they’d end up together, wasn’t lost on him, but saving Poppy seemed so obvious he was certain that was what he needed to do. Maybe that and make her want to live after he’d gone.

  “I think you’re right, Poppy. I’m supposed to look after you, only outside this apartment I’m invisible and helpless.”

  “You’re probably invisible and helpless inside the apartment too. Well, to anyone but me,” she added when he glared.

  “I have to go out for a couple of hours,” Joe said. “I want you to stay in bed and think about how I’m going to ravish you when I get back.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t want to stay in bed. Can I do the laundry and think about it?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  “And clean the bathroom?”

  “Poppy!”

  Joe had a plan though it wasn’t much of one. Unearth Keith, because something wasn’t right there. Blame a gut feeling, sixth sense, or intuition but Keith had been more than puzzled when he’d seen the Buxton file had been opened on his computer. He’d been scared. The phone call Joe had heard Keith make afterward had been brief. Only one word had been spoken, “Act.” Joe had dismissed it at the time but now had a horrible suspicion that Poppy was involved.

  As he rode his bike away from Poppy’s building, Joe saw a blue BMW parked at the curb with two guys sitting in it. They looked so much like bored cops on surveillance that Joe laughed. At least Poppy had someone else looking out for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Poppy had tried not to mind when Joe went on about finding the way to get his white feathers. She understood that while he didn’t want to go, he couldn’t stay. His skin had turned a dusty gray and Poppy hadn’t missed the shadows that frequently crossed his face.

  Joe was in pain.

  She’d been disappointed when he said he was going out and hadn’t told her where. She could have gone with him. But as much as he had to let her go, she understood she had to do the same for him.

  Sleep dragged her under. Sunk in a deep dream involving her, Joe’s cock and a bowl of cherries, Poppy struggled to suppress the accompanying buzzing. Bloody wasps. She surfaced to the realization that someone was at her door. Poppy glanced at the clock. Just after ten. Joe had been gone for two hours. Slipping a T-shirt over her head, she padded to the intercom.