Michael hissed at the friction on his cock, groaned as Gabriel orgasmed, and a few short, fast thrusts later, he arched, his head thrown back and his lips parted as he came with a shout of his own that was Gabriel’s name.
Panting, Gabriel flopped onto the heather, his ass itchy from the springy greenery he was lying on, and his legs feeling pinched and scratched by twigs and prickles. He didn’t care. In fact, Gabriel couldn’t stop grinning. He gazed at Michael as his lover pulled back from gnawing on Gabriel’s neck and gently pulled out of Gabriel’s body.
“Apologies,” Michael said, his eyes downcast. “I do not know what came over me.”
“Oh, no, no, no, don’t you go apologizing.” Gabriel reached out and ran a hand over Michael’s chest. “That was fucking fantastic fucking.”
“Language,” Michael said. Then he blushed and looked at Gabriel. “You are certain?”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Gabriel couldn’t stop grinning. “I’m going to ache later, but fuck me, it’ll be the best kind of ache.”
“I believe I have already fucked you,” Michael said, his voice deadpan, even though his blush was deepening.
Despite the darkness, to Gabriel, it was clear as day.
“Mm, and it were amazing, and you should feel totally free to do it again. And again. And maybe, later, again.”
“Gabriel,” Michael said, shaking his head. “You are insatiable.”
“Well, yeah, ’cause it’s you!” Gabriel pushed himself up and ruffled Michael’s hair. “Serious, baby, it were fantastic. That whole possessive- aggressive thing? Really fucking hot.”
“Language. I am glad it pleased you.” Michael smiled a shy little smile. “In truth, I was too angry to realize what I intended at first. Certainly, I wished to reestablish my claim on you and reassure myself that you are mine.”
“Dear one,” Gabriel said in a soft, fervent tone, “I’m always yours. Through thick and thin, yeah? That whole bond thing, it sort of makes our commitment that much more intense and meaningful.” He grazed his knuckles over Michael’s cheek in a tender caress. “Forever, you and me.”
Michael’s smile grew. “I confess I like the sound of that very much.”
“Me too. So, were you really jealous?”
Michael sighed. “It pains me to admit to such a base emotion, but... yes. I saw you dancing with that attractive young lady, and I fear that it made me angrier than I already was.”
“I’m sorry.” Gabriel was contrite all over again. “I didn’t mean to make you jealous on top of worried. I didn’t mean to make you feel any of that.”
“I know.” Michael turned his head to kiss Gabriel’s fingers. “I am aware. However, we have tarried here too long, and we must return to Iona.”
“Okay.” Gabriel sighed.
“There is a side of the island that is not inhabited.... We can go there later, if you wish?” Michael’s voice was shy.
“Oh aye, I wish.” Gabriel grinned. “More sex with you? I’m all for it.”
“I am glad.” Michael smiled. “So, now, just one question.” “What is that, da bao?”
Gabriel scratched the back of his neck. “Where are my pants?” he wondered, more a rhetorical question than anything else.
Michael blinked several times and then he began to laugh. “I confess, I do not know. I threw them... somewhere. Where was not of concern at that moment, only that they were off and no longer impeding me.”
Gabriel laughed. “Oh well. I guess I’ll go back pantless.”
“You most certainly will not.” Michael got to his feet, tugging up his own trousers. He looked around and then made a soft noise. “There they are.” He walked several feet away from Gabriel and bent down, picking up Gabriel’s jeans from atop a heather bush. “Here.”
“Thanks, solnyshko.” Gabriel walked over to Michael, grabbed his jeans, and tugged them on. “So, back to Iona, then?”
“As you say.” Michael took Gabriel’s hand in his. “We will report in and then adjourn somewhere more private on the island.”
“Perfect.” Gabriel twined their fingers and leaned over to kiss Michael’s cheek.
Without another word, Michael moved them. They reemerged in the world in the living room of the simple cottage the Archangels, Ishtahar, Israfel, and Hiwa were staying in.
“I’m surprised you’re not still fucking,” Uriel drawled.
“I beg your pardon!” Michael looked aghast.
“We heard you. Matter of fact, they probably heard you in Cornwall.” Uriel was grinning.
Michael instantly turned red and buried his face in his hands. “Wonderful,” he muttered.
Gabriel laughed. “Well, at least you all know I’m fine?”
“Yes, but I didn’t doubt it to begin with.” Uriel lit a cigar. “Michael worries too much.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Remiel said, more to head off a fight, Gabriel suspected, than anything else.
“Aye, I’m fine.” Gabriel grinned. “Mike and me, we’re just going to grab a blanket and go to the other side of the island.”
“For more fucking,” Uriel said with a nod as he exhaled a cloud of pungent cigar smoke. “Remember to shield the spot you end up. Some of us don’t want to hear your marathon sex sessions.”
“Uriel,” Michael sighed, “be silent.”
“Raz not back yet?” Gabriel asked.
“No, he is not.” Samael shook his head, his smile fading as he answered Gabriel. “We have heard that he, Tzadkiel, Brieus, and Sophiel are still searching. Ahijah is proving to be difficult to track down.”
“They’ll find him, though,” Uriel said.
“I’m sure,” Gabriel agreed. “Right, well, Mike and me, we’ll be off. Don’t wait up.” He sauntered out of the living room, using his power to pull a pair of blankets to him. Michael was hot on his heels, his face colored crimson, and Gabriel slipped an arm around his lover’s shoulders.
“I confess that I did not realize we were so loud,” Michael said in a soft voice.
“Me either,” Gabriel agreed. Then he laughed. “I bet there’ll be some interesting news reports from human news agencies tomorrow.”
“Oh dear,” Michael said, burying his face in his hands again.
Gabriel chuckled and moved them to the far side of the island, to a wooded spot where the trees would shield them from the wind blowing in off the sea. He lay one blanket down and sat, tugging Michael with him, then he draped the second blanket around their shoulders.
Michael smiled gratefully at him, and Gabriel waved a hand, shielding the spot with his power, so that any sounds of passion they might make wouldn’t be heard beyond the woods. He kissed Michael’s cheek and lay back on one arm, gazing at his lover fondly.
“This is nice,” Michael said, lying down beside Gabriel.
“Aye, it is. And”—Gabriel’s lips twitched with mirth—“better with a blanket between my naked bum and the ground. The heather we were lying on before was pretty scratchy.”
Michael looked contrite. “Forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive, Mike. It’s amusing, aye, and it’ll give me a chuckle for a while, but overall, the whole spontaneous ‘must fuck right now’ thing? Really fucking hot.”
“Language. And I will take your word for it.” Michael took Gabriel’s hand in his own, looking down at their twined fingers. “May I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything you want, solnyshko.”
“You are very kind.” Michael paused for a moment, obviously gathering his thoughts. “Do you think that I am boring?”
Gabriel blinked in surprise. “No? Where did that come from?”
Michael shrugged one shoulder, still resolutely averting his gaze. “I am not as adventurous as you are. Or Uriel, or Raziel, or Agrat, or anyone. I know that I must seem boring to you sometimes.”
“No.” Gabriel shook his head. “You’re different, aye, but different ain’t boring. Different’s just... not the same as me. And it’d be damn b
oring if we were exactly the same. Our differences are interesting.”
“If you say so.” Michael bit his lip. “But our... bedroom activities must be boring to you?”
“No. Where’s this coming from?” Gabriel’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Have I given you reason to think that?”
“No, of course not.” Michael looked up. “Forgive me. I fear I am overthinking things too much.” He gave Gabriel a wan smile.
“Okay, but you don’t need to worry about our relationship, yeah? I love you. I love sex with you. I ain’t got any reason to complain because I ain’t got anything to complain about. You make me very happy, Michael.”
“As you say. You would tell me if that changed?”
“Aye, but you’d know anyway. You know me better than I know myself.” Gabriel smiled and leaned in to kiss the tip of Michael’s nose. He laughed softly as Michael wrinkled his nose and continued. “Mishka, you complement me very well. In everything. In battle, in love, in sex, in friendship. God didn’t make us to be the same. He made you for a specific reason and me for a specific reason. We’re both military, aye, but that don’t mean we’re the same. I’m your second-in- command. It’s good that we’re different. Bloody awesome, actually.”
“Language.” Michael sighed. “Must you swear all the time, Gabriel?”
“Aye.” Gabriel nodded.
“Why?”
“’Cause I find your need to scold me for it adorable.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”
“C’mon, love of my life.” Gabriel touched Michael’s cheek. “Admit it. You find it kind of adorable that I swear and you scold—it’s like our little lover’s routine that we’ll always have, no matter what. When we’re retired on a beach in the Bahamas, drinking cocktails with umbrellas in ’em, I’ll still be swearing, most likely something about those damn kids needing to get off our beach, and you’ll be saying, ‘Language, Gabriel,’ and I’ll smile and know that all’s right with the world. And so will you.”
Michael considered that, a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, he smiled and looked at Gabriel, shaking his head. “You are right, da bao. You could, however, make a very little effort to swear less. Just a little?”
“All right, I’ll try.” Gabriel kissed Michael’s cheek again. “For you.”
“You are very kind.” Michael reached up to run his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. “I confess that the blanket is a good idea—the scrub was rough on my knees as well as your backside.”
Gabriel burst out laughing and pulled Michael into a hug. “I love you, Michael.”
Michael hugged him back. “I love you also, Gabriel.”
Ducking his head to nuzzle Michael’s neck, Gabriel ran a hand up and down Michael’s back.
“Gabriel?”
“Aye?”
“These cocktails you spoke of, why would they have umbrellas in them?”
Gabriel laughed. “They’re not real umbrellas, solnyshko. They’re like, little wooden umbrellas. A decoration.” “I see. But why?”
“No idea.” Gabriel kissed his way up Michael’s neck. “’S a human thing.”
“O-oh.” Michael tilted his head to give Gabriel better access to his neck, his voice a little breathy. “I don’t u- understand.”
“Me either.” Gabriel grazed his teeth over the soft skin beneath Michael’s earlobe. “It ain’t important, though.”
“A-as you say. Gabriel. Gabriel.” Michael rolled onto his back, pulling Gabriel on top of him.
“Something you want?” Gabriel snaked his tongue around the shell of Michael’s ear, knowing exactly what effect that would have on his lover.
Michael rocked into him, a low moan coming from him.
“You,” Michael panted, slipping his hands beneath Gabriel’s shirt.
“How would you like me?” Gabriel nibbled Michael’s earlobe.
“Take me,” Michael whispered. “Hard, fast. Possessive.”
Gabriel couldn’t stop the growl that slipped from him at that. He didn’t say anything, simply used his power to get them naked and the weight of his body to pin Michael down. He raked his nails up Michael’s sides, making Michael whimper, a ragged, hungry sound, and arch into Gabriel’s body.
Gabriel moved and kissed Michael then, a hard kiss, all tongue and teeth, his mouth devouring Michael’s. Michael kissed him back enthusiastically, moving his hands straight to Gabriel’s wing joints and rubbing, and Gabriel hissed, sliding his own hands down Michael’s body to his thighs. He pushed Michael’s legs apart without breaking the kiss, lifting them to his shoulders. Slicking himself with his power, Gabriel shifted again and thrust into Michael’s body slowly.
He took his time, dragging it out, thrusting in inch by agonizingly slow inch. Breaking the kiss to pant, Gabriel couldn’t help feeling a thrill of smug possessiveness as Michael babbled pleas and half-formed phrases, begging Gabriel for harder, more, now, please, anything. Gabriel continued to take his time, and when he was finally buried deep inside Michael’s body, he began to move, fucking Michael just as slowly as he’d thrust into him.
Michael continued to babble, his words growing more and more incoherent as desire rose. He tugged on handfuls of feathers, and Gabriel groaned, rolled his hips once, and rocked into Michael a little faster. Working a hand between them, he wrapped his fingers around Michael’s cock and stroked, slow and firm and out of time with his thrusts.
Michael was trembling beneath him, muttering in Chinese and English, and Gabriel lowered his head and bit the curve of Michael’s neck and shoulder, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts and strokes. Michael clutched at his wings, and Gabriel groaned raggedly, tasting sweat on Michael’s skin.
It didn’t take long, Michael’s orgasm hot and thick on Gabriel’s hand, and Gabriel continued to stroke Michael’s cock as he fucked Michael faster, right on the edge of his own orgasm. When he crested the wave of his pleasure, orgasm crashing through him like waves on a storm-swept shore, Michael’s name was on Gabriel’s lips and in his heart and Grace.
They lay together, panting, enjoying the afterglow, and Gabriel slipped from Michael’s body and lay beside him on the blanket, pulling up the second blanket to keep the chill wind at bay. After several moments, Michael rolled onto his side, cuddled up to Gabriel, and touched his cheek with tender fingers.
“Your name is always on my lips and in my heart and Grace also, da bao,” Michael murmured.
Gabriel smiled and kissed him.
Chapter Six
PENEMUEL was terrified. He wasn’t alone —although his fellow Grigori’s face gave no hint, he could tell from the way Kokabiel shifted from foot to foot how frightened he was. Baraqiel’s mouth was set in a firm, hard line, his dark blue eyes hooded.
The three of them stood on the pavement outside the apartment building that Azazel owned in Paris. They had met half an hour before the time that Semjaza wanted them to show up, in part to take courage from each other and in part to give voice to the same question: why?
Penemuel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He would rather be anywhere than here. He could feel Semjaza’s presence—Grigori Grace recognizing one of its own. Azazel would no doubt have fawned and flattered Semjaza outrageously, although Penemuel privately was of the opinion that Semjaza’s ego didn’t really need any additional stroking. But then, Penemuel thought, Azazel had always been unquestioningly loyal to Semjaza, even before the Grigori had been appointed the Watchers of humans living in Eden.
“Well,” Kokabiel said, his voice breaking Penemuel’s reverie, “I suppose we should go in and present ourselves.”
“I wish we could be anywhere but here,” Baraqiel said.
Penemuel nodded. “Amen to that.”
The three angels looked at each other and grinned ruefully.
“The sooner we do it, the sooner it’s over with,” Baraqiel said.
“All right,” Kokabiel said. “Let’s do this.”
The three
walked into the building and took the stairs to the top floor, to the apartment that Azazel lived in.
Baraqiel tapped on the polished wooden door that was inlaid with mother- of-pearl and had a polished brass doorknob. There was a short wait, and then the door opened and Azazel, smiling, stood there.
“My Grigori brothers,” he said warmly. “Do come in.”
Silently, Penemuel followed Baraqiel and Kokabiel into the entry hall of the apartment. Azazel closed the door behind them; although the latch clicked softly, it sounded to Penemuel like the doom-filled clang of the door of a dungeon.
“This way.” Azazel didn’t wait for any of them to reply, simply turning and leading the way down the corridor and into the living room.
At any other time, Penemuel would have found Azazel’s living room a wonder and a delight. Furnished with priceless Art Deco antiques, the walls were painted a soft blue, and the carpet was a dark charcoal gray. The skirting boards were white and so was the ceiling. The elaborate plaster rosette in the center of the ceiling from which a brass and glass lamp hung was painted in a myriad of colors.
There were bookshelves against one wall, full to bursting with books, and a desk in one corner, piled high with papers, an antique brass desk lamp turned on. The curtains were authentic Morris and Company weave, no doubt purchased at auction, and Penemuel surmised they cost more than what he made in a year. The paintings on the walls were original pieces by artists from the Pre-Raphaelite period, and there was a Rodin brass on a polished white marble pedestal against another wall.
Penemuel took a deep breath and forced himself to look at the sofa. Seated upon the plush dark blue wool was Semjaza.
Penemuel bit his lower lip as he looked at the Prince of the Grigori. Semjaza had not changed—his expression was still proud, his eyes were still full of selfish, almost petulant confidence in his own power and abilities. His hair was short, white-blond locks contrasting with golden-olive skin. He wore a gray three- piece suit and an indigo tie that made his blue eyes look even more intense. He was calm and composed, the perfect picture of wealth, elegance, and angelic beauty.
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