Celestra Forever After

by Addison Moore

  Gage inches his lips down my chest, straight through to my stomach, and the sweet sensation pulls an aching groan from me. I watch mesmerized as that shock of dark hair travels south over my pale skin. His tongue dips into my belly button, and I let out a small cry as the air collapses around the wetness. My knees cinch up over his back, leaving that intimate part of me far more exposed than I wanted. Gage glances up. He looks drugged with a loose smile on his lips.

  “What are you doing?” I twirl my fingers through his glossy hair.

  “Drinking it in for later.”

  “I’m sort of liking right now,” I purr into him with my mouth curling an involuntary smile. “We’re going to be together every day, every night, and each magical moment will bring something new.” I know what Gage meant. His later is eternity. He wants to have a playback of this special night at the ready, but I want to assure him in every way it’s not necessary. Once I set my mind to something, it’s hard to let go, and God knows, I’ve set my mind on the fact that Gage Oliver won’t go to the grave a young man. I’m going to move his life’s boundary stone so far back that our timers expire at the exact same moment. Gage and I would take our last breath on earth and our first breath in heaven in concert with one another.

  “Right now.” He nods, his lids growing ever so heavy. “Guess what I’m going to do right now?” The glimmer of a wicked grin buds on his lips. Gage pushes my knees back and slides down the bed, leaving me spread wide before him, my body already quivering, wanting him to do exactly what he’s about to. Instinctually my knees try to connect and force my feet to glide in opposite directions, but I screw my toes into the mattress to remain just this way. It feels unnatural like this with my wings spread wide, the hollow of my body licking the foreign air.

  “Gage,” I pant, low—desperately needy. There’s an ache in me that only being with him in this intimate way could ever cure, and here he is, the elixir. Gage Oliver is the exact drug I need to satisfy me. I’m pretty sure I’ll need at least a daily dose—I might have to triple up just to be safe.

  “I’m going to put my mouth right here, Skyla.” He touches that tender part of me with the tip of his finger, and I bounce.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God.

  I don’t say a word, just drop my head back and take a quivering breath—my thighs numb with anticipation. The butterflies in my stomach have long since morphed into a slew of rabid bats.

  Do it. Do it. Do it. I quietly chant on the inside as he undoubtedly inspects the lay of the land.

  I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about Gage anchoring those luscious, full lips right there—fantasizing myself into a sexual ball of frustration just thinking about it.

  “Do you want that, Skyla?” Gage kisses a trail from my belly to the base of my hip, and I let out a moan. Gage is teasing me. Making me ask for it, demand it—beg.

  A shiver runs through me as I bite down a smile. This isn’t the Gage Oliver I’m accustomed to—all fired up and rife with every lewd intention I’ve ever wanted him to have.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” I rock my head over the pillow.

  Gage gives my hip an unexpected bite, and a low gurgling laugh rumbles through me. Who knew he had a wild side that involved generously gifting me with teeth marks? Maybe for his birthday, I’ll get him a whip.

  Gage trails kisses from my hip to the heated spot between my thighs that’s been quivering to receive him. His mouth lands over me, gently with the briefest kiss, and my knees reflexively press in, giving his ribcage the squeeze of a lifetime.

  “Gage.” His name bites through the air like a threat. A charge of adrenaline rockets through me, strong enough to lift this entire hotel off its foundation. This is far more than a sexual pleasure. It’s a power that could challenge the splitting of an atom.

  A dark laugh rumbles from his throat as he presses his mouth over my body, his tongue meeting me there. “Wild honey, Skyla. You’re as sweet as wild honey.” He lands his mouth over me again, moist and hot, and rakes his tongue over me gently as if he were kissing my mouth with careful affection.

  My body seizes. That tender part of me starts in on a series of beautiful spasms that Gage tries to prolong with the gentle lashing of his tongue, but I’m already panting, gone into the beautiful stratosphere far too soon. Waves wash through me, electric and warm. I’m still quaking as Gage lowers his focus and spears deep into my body with his tongue. A strangled cry draws from my throat, and I explode into a million tiny pieces that vibrate into the atmosphere, each with a bliss of their own.

  “Gage.” I draw my knees together and push his head back. “I think we just found another one of your superpowers.” I’m not even kidding.

  His dimples quake as he glides back up to me. His lips press over mine, wet from my body.

  “Sorry.” I shrug, slightly embarrassed by my hypersensitive response. The truth is, I’m still going—that sweet spot is still happily buzzing away with the aftereffects from those heated kisses.

  “For what?”

  “Stopping the show before it ever really began.”

  “Mmm,” he moans, slipping his tongue into my mouth for a tender moment. “I’ll have to tell Ellis he was wrong. He swore I’d be setting up shop for weeks. Told me to bring sustenance because I’d need it.”

  “Gage!” I swat him over the shoulder. “Tell me you did not have this conversation with Ellis.”

  “Okay, I didn’t.” He pulls back, and his dimples flex. “He had it with me.” His chest rumbles with a silent laugh.

  “Don’t even think of letting Harrison in on our little secret.” Just the thought of Ellis tormenting me over my spontaneous combustion is bad enough. “Ellis and I are friends—good friends—and it’s going to be weird. You know he’ll try to set me off like a smoke alarm just to see if it’s true. Do you want other men trying to gift your wife an orgasm?”

  “You got me there.” He tickles my ribs. “Besides, I’m just glad it felt good for you. That’s all I care about.” He buries a wet, squeaky kiss into my ear. “I plan on becoming a master of pleasuring you.”

  A searing heat rolls through me as he says those words.

  “You’re already there.” I sink into the pillow and blink into him. “Master.” I take him in this way with the defused light spraying his features a soft gold, and, for a moment, I see Gage as the hurt boy by my side at West while Marshall and Logan pined for my heart right alongside him. “Please”—my insides melt with grief—“I don’t ever want you to think you’re not enough. You’re everything to me, Gage, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you’re not.” My chest bucks as I struggle to hold back tears.

  “Whoa.” He kisses each of my lids. “I don’t know where that came from, but only happy tears today. It’s okay, Skyla. I love you. We’re together now, that’s all that matters.”

  He picks up my hand and kisses his grandmother’s ring on my finger. It’s only then I notice that Logan’s necklace is still safe around my neck, the mirrored heart right along with the protective hedge—warm as skin. I hardly ever notice it’s on half the time. Crap. I close my eyes a moment. I’ve taken Logan for the carnal ride whether he liked it or not.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He drops his gaze to where I’m looking and fingers the heart in his hand. “Don’t ever feel guilty. I loved Logan, too. I’m sure we’ll see him soon.”

  I shake my head. Tears pool in my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. “This isn’t about anybody else. This is about us. We’re the real deal now, Gage. We’re going to have to tell our families.” A crooked smile teeters on my lips. An image of Emma dropping dead from the news flits through my mind. I’m probably not too far off base.

  “I’m with you.” He nods. “Whenever you’re ready—I’m there.”

  “Maybe we should figure things out first. You know, enjoy a small window of privacy. Soak it in,” I say.

  He kisses each of my knuckles before running his lips up my arm, up my neck to my lips. His e
rection blooms against my inner thigh, and I take in a breath as he grows against me.

  I’m soaking it in. This is just about us.

  I never want to hurt Gage again. And I won’t.

  He reaches to the nightstand and dips in the drawer as morning struggles to break outside. This has been one hell of an amazing night.

  The good thing is, Gage and I are going to get to relive it, over and over again for the next several decades.

  It’s going to happen.

  I’m going to make sure of it.

  We take the ferry home, unable to hide our silly grins, our incessant laughter. I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to break it to my mother that Gage and I are married. I’m pretty sure she’ll be psyched, overall, but more than slightly disappointed that she wasn’t there to witness the event, let alone plan for it and buy a crap-ton of decorations from the local craft store in a gaudy act of worship to all things tulle and tinsel.

  Gage drives us to the Landon house and frowns as he looks up at the glorified cabin.

  “How are we going to do this?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” I tug on his fingers. We hop out and rush up the stairs, my lower half burning—killing me as if shards of glass were cutting through my insides with every single step. Thoughts of Gage raking over me—his body filling mine—wash over me, and I close my eyes for one sweet second.

  A shadowed figure steps out from behind the old patio umbrella that Tad has lounging against the side of the house. My skin prickles on edge as the figure emerges into the light. Wickedness oozes from that direction like a toxin, stopping up the air with its venomous poison. It takes a moment for her full infamy to come into focus—it’s the viper herself—Chloe.

  “What the hell do you want?” I’m still pissed that I didn’t take up the issue of little Ms. Deviant with my mother while I was in Ahava. Trust me, it’s the first order of business when I get back.

  “So it’s true?” She looks from me to Gage, her eyes falling to our conjoined hands—my ring. Her face pinches with grief. This is the sword in Chloe’s heart, and, in a way, I’m glad I get to see her reaction firsthand. It’s a twisted wedding gift that only Chloe could deliver.

  “Get out of here, Chloe,” Gage pants out the words with a budding rage. “Believe me, there’s nothing you can do to ruin this day.”

  I smirk at her. “I see good news travels fast.” I don’t really give a shit how the hell she found out just as long as she doesn’t go blabbing it to anyone who’ll listen—but, then again, this is Chloe, and, if she’s anything, she’s vindictive. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you implanted a GPS tracking device on Gage. I’m sure you were sad to see that his body landed in all the right places.” My insides give a sharp bite of pain attesting to this.

  Her face inches back as if I had slapped her. “You’ll regret this.”

  “I regret nothing, except the fact your leash is too fucking long for my liking. But don’t worry, my sweet little bitch. I plan on taking care of that, too. You see, finally, everything is going my way—the faction war, the celestial booby trap my mother and I lured you into, and most importantly, I have Gage. It’s all coming up roses for me.”

  She barks out an echoing laugh and startles me. “You’re a bigger fool now than you ever were before,” Chloe purrs with a satisfied smile as if she’s in on some cosmic joke that I’m not yet privy to. “In fact, you just cost yourself everything.” She looks to Gage, angst riddled as if she were in physical pain. “Oh, Skyla.” She crimps a wicked grin. “The beauty is, you have no idea what you’ve done.” She turns to me and touches her hand to my forehead. An electrical current travels through me, immobilizing my muscles, my ability to breathe. Let me tell you everything—

  Gage pushes her off. “Keep the hell away from her.”

  “We need to talk, Skyla,” she says as the cawing of a bird fills the air. Chloe glances up and winces. “I’m the only one who’ll tell you the truth, Messenger—or should I say Oliver?” Her dark eyes narrow in on mine with a strangled intensity. “Believe me, no one else in the universe wants to fill you in on what you’ve just done.” The cawing increases in volume as the raven draws near—Holden Kragger in Nevermore’s form. “But, then, I was always trying to stop you.” She breaks out in a cackle before jumping over the railing, straight down a fifty-foot suicide plunge—down into the earth and into the Transfer where trash like Chloe truly belongs.

  “Don’t listen to her, Skyla.” Gage presses a kiss to my forehead. “We’re not buying any more of her bullshit.”

  “Of course, not.” I’d be lying if I didn’t say her urgency caught me off guard. “But a part of me is curious as to what she had to say and why she was willing to stoop to telepathy in front of you of all people.” Not a single logical scenario runs through my mind. “Probably just more lies.” I melt into my newly christened husband. “The only person I can truly trust is standing right here in front of me.”

  The earth trembles. The porch jumps beneath our feet.

  The sky erupts in a lavender sizzle as if my mother were saying not so fast.

  I clutch onto Gage.

  Just what the hell is going on?

  Gage

  The lights are all on downstairs at the Landon house. Skyla and I step inside and hear shouting from the kitchen. Her sisters are already at it, threatening to hack each other’s hair off once again.

  “Skyla?” Her mother’s voice rises from the kitchen, and we head that way.

  Her stepfather, Tad, and mom both rise when we step into the room, their faces rife with worry.

  Crap.

  “There’s the culprit.” He wags a finger at me. “I told you she wasn’t alone, freezing in the rain. The only place she fell was in a nice warm bed with the linebacker.”

  “Not true.” Skyla is quick to cover her lips and give me that I’m sorry look.

  I know Skyla. It’s not that she meant to lie, it’s that she can’t stand the thought of Tad ratting her out on a lucky guess.

  “Skyla?” Her mother rushes over and cups her cheeks. “God, I thought you were lying in a ditch somewhere. Demetri was just about to get an entire taskforce out looking for you.”

  “I was about to do the same.” Tad lifts his pants by the belt loops and flares his nostrils at me.

  Right. A brownie troop is about all Tad has the authority to amass and not even that.

  “I wasn’t lying in a ditch.” Skyla takes a step away from me. “I was up late studying and missed the last ferry.”

  “You could have called.” Her mother cuts the air with the caustic edge in her voice, and the baby sleeping in the playpen begins to wail. “In fact”—she heads over and scoops up the infant—“you could have picked up your phone. I must have called about sixteen times. And where did you sleep? In the library?” She drills us with her suspicion while lifting her shirt for the baby, and I train my eyes on Skyla. I’ve lost count of how many times her mother has flashed the world her tits. I’m not against her feeding the baby. I’m just against seeing things that might haunt me forever which include any private part of Skyla’s mom—my new mother-in-law. A dull smile perks on my lips as I wrap my arms around Skyla.

  “I wasn’t at the library.” Skyla trembles beneath me. I’ve seen her go around this block with her mother enough times to know it ends in nothing more than a whimper.

  “Didn’t think so,” she snips. “You know why? That was the first place Demetri called, and they close at eleven!”

  “Oh, right.” Skyla spins into me before gently lowering my hands from her hips. “I was with a friend.” Sorry, she mouths before turning once again to face her mom. “We have a very important paper due in history. And, by the way, thank you for filling me in on the fact Mr. Dudley would be teaching. He darn near gave me a heart attack.”

  “Isn’t that man fantastic?” Lizbeth’s eyes enlarge as if she meant it on a level that didn’t include grading papers or teaching about early American settlers.


  It’s one thing to have her mom gushing about Dudley, but if Skyla starts in I might be moved to hunt down the sacrilegious Sector and clock him. I may anyway.

  “I don’t think he’s so great.” Skyla’s sister, Melissa, spits it out like rusty nails. “He gives a shit load of homework, and, I swear, he’s purposefully giving me a hard time because Skyla rejected his sexual advances.”

  All eyes spin toward her sister.

  “So he’s still teaching at West?” Skyla relaxes into me, and my hard-on ticks to life. Just the memory of being with her, being in her is enough to set me off. After Skyla lost it this morning, before I ever really begun to pleasure her, the only thought running through my mind was thank God it was her, not me. That was my biggest fear—ending the game before I ever got a chance to properly run the bases. Hell, I don’t mind one bit that Skyla was so gone she couldn’t take it. That’s my goal, to elicit that response in her time and time again.

  “Of course, he’s still working there.” Her mother shakes her head. “You know they don’t pay those teachers near enough. Poor guy has to moonlight just to make ends meet.”

  Poor guy? Has she seen the size of his house?

  “Speaking of meeting ends—we’re no longer meeting ours.” Tad belts it out loud enough to get the dead’s attention. “Greg”—he looks right at me—“you take Skyla out as much as you can. Feed her three solid squares—if you know what I mean.” He pats his stomach. “And, if you’re a gentleman, you’ll bring dinner in a few nights a week, for the rest of us. I like extra cheese on my burgers—in fact, make it a double.”

  “Oh, stop.” Lizbeth bounces the baby in his direction. “It’s not that bad.” She glances at Skyla. “We’re just trying out a very tight budget.” This coming from the family that lived off pork rinds for a month. Something tells me the Landons are going to give a whole new meaning to the words shoestring budget.