Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (75 page)

“It
might, but only if you fight me. Are you going to fight me Clarissa? Are you
going to deny me after all these years apart?” The first inch of that empurpled
head pressed into her, making her huff out an anticipatory breath.

He
pushed in another inch, and then another, stretching and filling her
impossibly. Her wetness increased as he pulled her hips inexorably onto his
rigid pole. Whimpers clogged in her throat as the immensity of him slid deeper,
so deep that she thought he would pierce her heart.

“Wait!
Oh ga—wait.”

He
stilled within her, feeling her fear, and her impossible tightness. When she
drew in a deep shuddering breath and released it he continued pushing into her
until, improbably, he was rooted completely within her pulsing, quickening
sheath. He stilled again, feeling her bodies resistance in spite of its
arousal. He nibbled her throat, licking the long column of it until he could
take her earlobe lightly between his teeth. She went limp and yielding, her
tightness softening around him allowing him the final bit deeper.

It
was then that he began to lift and drop her, successively, as her back bowed
almost in half. Exquisite and torturous she felt sundered and yet more whole
than she had ever felt. Her nails dug into his biceps as his wings fanned
slowly around them. His staff drove into her in increasingly harder waves,
slipping in, then out, further in, further out. It was stunning and impossible
that all that fiery mass, buried to the hilt, was pummeling her clenching womb
until she thought to scream.

The
sheer heat of their joining had sweat pouring from them in rivulets. The harder
he slammed her down the higher she went, barely able to breathe as a sensation
not unlike an inferno drowned her conscious mind, sending her crashing into
howling rapture. Her fluids, thick and viscous, slicked their conjoined flesh,
sweet streams of it coating his ball sac and her quivering outspread thighs.

Still
he rode her, driving with all his force into her, her moans and cries bordering
deliciously on screams. As tight as she was, she grew tighter still, a velvet
vise. His cries of pleasure were a counter harmony to hers.

Geysers
of light streamed around them, gathering and dispersing, rainbows of
crystalline luminosity danced. Her flesh began to glow as rapture transported
her outside of herself. It broke in seams along her limbs, shining through his
wings in an orgy of color and sensation that grew dazzling and extreme with
every stroke of their bodies together. He slipped two fingers into her darker
flower and felt her bones shift meltingly against him.

Her
scream of ecstasy followed swiftly on his intrusion with a screech of absolute
agony. Helpless he was unable to withdraw from her as incandescent light
spilled from her. Overarching gouts of fire burst from her spine in torrents of
heat that singed the web of his wings. Struggling to pull out of the
lightning’s unbridled path, he rode her, incapable of stopping.

She
screamed, endlessly, torn asunder between pleasure and pain as small nubs
emerged from the blades of her shoulders. Blood, sweat and clear fluid ran in
rivers coating her limbs, matting her hair as he cleaved into her. The
sensations built even further as they continued their madly passionate dance.

Those
nubs grew, unfurled, and expanded. Caked and coated in flowing liquid they
extended out of her back as they continued their furiously exquisite mating.
Blinding light poured between them as they came together, skin slapping,
slurping against enflamed tissues. Sun bright, the dark nether world of their
meeting lit up, bearing witness to their passion.

Her
wings grew, emanating golden light as her orgasm engulfed her, those luminous
plumes flicking in unseen winds. His own wings rubbed against hers in crackling
waves as he joined her in a release that shattered his heart into pieces, his
etheric seed splashing deep. Their commingled cries echoed in the endless night
sending creatures of both light and dark scuttling. They spiraled together as
their furious pace abated into tender union, leaving them floating in blissful
clouds of passion spent.

She
awoke in her own bed. Something was covering her face. Frustrated she went to
grab at it. She encountered millions of feathers. Sitting bolt upright she
gasped and nearly screamed aloud. Lying in her bed was the man from her dreams.

An
angel. Her angel.

“But…but…oh
my fucking god!” she cried. “You’re real!”

She
launched out of the bed only to fall flat on her face enwrapped and trapped in
her own wings. ”OW! Fuck! Oh my god!”

As
he rolled to look at her, she lunged for the phone, pressing Thia’s number on
speed dial. “Thia! Thia! Come on pick up! Pick! Up! It’s Clarissa! Come on
please, please be home!”

There
was a click in the line and Thia came on. “What Clari? What’s wrong?”

“Thia!
Listen to me! Just get your key and come here please. This is so fucking crazy
you are not going to believe it! I don’t fucking believe it! Hurry! Oh my
fucking God, hurry!” Clarissa all but screamed and clicked the phone off
flinging it to the floor as if it burned her hand.

“You!
You were a dream! You were supposed to stay a dream.”

“Yes,
that was the idea.” His voice, resonating in living color, had her gasping
against the carpet of her bedroom floor. “Are you unhappy that I am here?”

“What?
Oh, for Christ’s sake, I have wings! How did you—? You have wings! How
did I get wings! What the hell did you do to me?” Her voice was rising into a
shriek.

“The
lights preserve us, I don’t know. I’m not even supposed to be here.” His voice
tumbled through her body.

“Stop,
please, oh god, stop! Don’t speak!” Orgasmic rushes rolled over her with every
syllable he spoke.

He
slid from the bed coming up behind her to hold her as he knelt. He bit his lip
to keep from speaking as he helped her fold her wings back and regain her
balance on her knees. Then he slid his arms around her holding her as close as
she would allow.

She
shuddered and clung to his strong arms her temperature slipping from hot to
cold back to hot so quickly she thought she would be ill from it. “Help me. I
think—I think I am going to be sick!”

“Salt,
you need salt.”

She
flung out a hand as she swallowed heavily pointing to the sea salt on her
bedside table. He took the container, opened it and began sprinkling it on her
head, down her spine. He took a pinch and rubbed it into her belly, then even
though she protested, rubbed it into the skin between her sheath and ass.

Immediately
she felt better. “Right. Right, I just needed to ground.”

He
nodded and then rubbed it into the soles of her feet. Instantly her nausea
dissipated. He kept rubbing her. Now that she was not feeling like she was
going to throw up it was like being touched with live electrical wires. Her
entire body shook. It was a fine and terrible trembling that had her keenly
balanced against an impending orgasm. She struggled to contain it, letting the
shock of him help dissipate those acute sensations into something a bit more
bearable.

“Please,
take your hands off me.”

“But
why,” he asked as he nuzzled at her neck “Don’t you love it?”

“Yes!
No! Just stop. I cannot do this right now. I just can’t.” Breathy little gasps
escaped her. “And you can’t talk either. Please.”

Reluctantly
he backed away and settled on the edge of her bed, his long white and blue
wings draped over its wide expanse. His blonde hair was long and curly, framing
him like some Raphael painting gone highly erotic. He gazed at her, bemusement
and desire obvious in his eyes.

“You
can’t look at me. It’s like you are touching me when you do.” She was nearly
panic-stricken as she made the incredulous observation.

She
was afraid to move from where she knelt by her bed, more afraid to look at what
was sprouting from her back. She muttered under her breath, fingers clenching
and unclenching as she sought something, anything, to ease the aching burn of
her body and the dreadful chaos of her thoughts. She leaned forward, just
consciously realizing that she was buck-naked and unless she stood, she would
not be able to reach under her pillow for her nightgown.

A
wavering but throaty growl of frustration rumbled out of her making him turn
his silvery blue gaze on her once more.

It
was as if his hands touched her face, cool and soft like a spring breeze. It
lingered sweetly under her jaw then trailed languidly down her breast and
belly. It was only his eyes that touched her, but his gaze felt every bit as
real as his hands had felt when he had touched her earlier.

“What
can I do to help you Clarissa?”

The
two elements of his voice and gaze thrummed deep and swift inside her. By the
time he said her name, she had curled over herself in pure and powerful
pleasure.

“Clarissa?”
he asked again and her orgasm burst through her like a sudden thunderous
squall.

Shuddering,
nearly convulsing, she braced herself on all fours as unbelievably orgiastic
pleasure rippled through her. Her small cries muffled where she pressed her
face into the floor. It was as if every cell in her body was coming, so
intensely that all she could do was ride it, crying out as the waves spiraled
outward and then came rebounding back trebling her ecstasy.

He
stared at her, hunger, amusement, and something like fear in his eyes. He
pressed a hand to his mouth to keep from speaking even though he really wanted
to.

It
took several minutes for her to stop writhing against the carpet. When she had
regained some sense of herself, she struggled to her feet. Her unaccountable
wings flexed and folded in, the motion almost tipping her over.

“Walk
like you’re drunk. Walk like you are drunk. Walk like you’re drunk,” she
whispered under her breath as she staggered to her dresser snagging a t-shirt
and loose pants from the drawer.

The
pants she managed fine but, the shirt was not cooperating. Forcibly reminding
herself that she had wings attached to her, she took a pair of nail scissors
and sawed at the back hem until she was able to tear the fabric up the back.
Flinging the crappy scissors down she pulled the t-shirt back on, grimacing at
the draft up her spine.

Thia
arrived as Clarissa managed to negotiate the path to her living room.

“Okay
Clarissa, what the heck is so important I have to…um… Shit.” She snapped her
mouth shut with an audible click of teeth.

“Yeah,
I know.” Clarissa stared at her friend, tears welling. “I don’t know what to
do. I need to call my boss and explain why I am not there.”

“She
can wait. You can’t. Come over here and sit down, I’ll make you some coffee,
and from the way you look some food would be good too.” Thia was crisp and
efficient under pressure and Clarissa was more than grateful.

It
took several minutes for her to figure out how to sit in the chair but soon she
sat with her hands on the table. Just as Thia came back from the kitchen, her
angel came out of the bedroom.

“You!”
the mug Thia was carrying went crashing to the floor splattering hot coffee
across the tiled floor. “Damnit!”

“You!”
His voice slammed into Clarissa like a truck.

Her
gasping went unnoticed as Thia and the angel glared at one another. “I should
have known it was you. What do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to
be on this plane not for another four years!”

“I
didn’t exactly expect her to have the strength to drag me back with her. Let
alone be able to transform!” In that moment, he sounded more like a defiant
child than a full formed—well…angel—should.

“Say
that I believe that! Stop using the glamour on her would you?” Thia’s voice was
acerbic as she glanced at Clarissa where she sat spasming in her seat.

“Oh,
right.” He focused for a moment, and then spoke again. “I beg your pardon,
Clarissa. I forgot that you have no shields on this plane.”

Drawing
in a shuddering breath, she replied, “Well for god’s sake why would you think I
know a damn thing about any of this? I am not supposed to have wings! Let alone
have sex with an angel.”

He
had the decency to look away as he replied. “Well I’m not exactly an angel.
I—um—uh sis? Help me out here.”

“Sis?
You mean as in sister? You two are related, Thia? What the hell is going on
here?” Her voice was a rising again.

“Well,
yes in a manner of speaking. We are technically brother and sister and it’s all
rather complicated.” Thia glared at her brother then headed for the kitchen.
“First, I need caffeine and food and so do both of you.”

“Fuck
food. What have you done to me? I deserve to know.”

“Beloved—”
he began.

“You
don’t have the freaking right to call me that.”

“Actually
I do,” he said. “We are light mates you and I.”

“Yeah
right. Pull the other leg, it’s got bells on.”

“Clari,
he’s not lying but you two weren’t supposed to meet for another four years when
all the changes here on earth were completed. You two were and are a mated
pair, among many I might add, that’s supposed to usher in the new age of men
and earth.”

“That
doesn’t explain anything. How the fuck am I supposed to go to work and how the
hell am I supposed to do anything like this?” Clarissa’s voice broke as tears
welled and ran unheeded down her face.

“Clarissa.
Love. Please don’t—Ne pleurez pas aimé, please beloved,” he said, walking
to her and attempting to pull her into his arms.

Without
thinking, she lashed out at him, her half-closed fist connecting with his jaw.
It snapped his head back and they both gasped in shock.

“Shit.
Shit. I’m sorry.”

“I
guess I kind of deserved that.” He rubbed his jaw ruefully and continued to
drag her up from the chair.