other side and then latches on, sucking gently.
I’ve never felt anything like this. I don’t know how to respond to the stars sparking behind my eyelids or the ribbons of sensation that dance through me. I end up gasping, clawing at the clouds beneath me, which shred in a way that leaves me wishing for bed sheets I could clutch.
Ziel doesn’t just use his mouth though. He brings up his hand and tweaks my other nipple, the pain contrasting the gentle suction of his lips. I arch up into him, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck and begging, “More.”
His free hand slides between my legs and finds me damp, ready. He swirls his finger in tender circles around my most sensitive spot, and I start to float away. My mind detaches from reality and enters a space that’s both primal and ethereal.
“Ziel.” I growl his name, aggression taking over, need burning so brightly behind my eyelids that all I see is red.
His finger slides over my clit. And I howl, lost to sensation, as he pleasures me again and again, his magical fingers tapping against that sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding away, then tapping once more.
I buck against his hand, reaching down and clutching his forearm, as if I’m afraid he might take it away. I hold it steady as my hips writhe against his fingers, and together, we find the most brilliant pleasure God ever created.
When my orgasm ends, he releases me gently, leaning over me as I dazedly blink and stare up at him in lust-drunk awe. That was amazing. But I still, somehow, want more.
“Ziel,” I whisper up at him. “Be my first.”
Tears fill his eyes as he nods. He doesn’t say a word, just leans down and gives me a tiny peck on the lips before I feel his fingers spreading me apart. He slowly pushes one finger inside of me, opening me up to him. He pumps it back and forth, letting me adjust to it, before adding a second. That’s when he starts to curl his fingers and slide them gently over my G-spot.
My eyes nearly roll back in my head. I’ve touched myself plenty of times before, even been on a few dates that got close to home plate, but nothing has ever felt like this.
My neck arches back, and I moan, staring up at a sky that’s suddenly full of pure white feathers drifting down like tiny propellers, spinning and softly landing on the clouds all around us.
“What …?” I trail off as Ziel removes his fingers and leaves me bereft.
“Where do you think angel wings come from?” he asks me as he lines himself up with my entrance. “The feathers form when a heart feels pure, true love.” A tear drips from his eye and lands on my cheek.
Awe. I have no words but “awe.”
He pushes into me and starts to stroke softly. At first, it aches, and disappointment fills me. But Ziel caresses my cheek and kisses me. I focus on his kiss until, after a while, the pain recedes, and instead, a heat builds inside of me.
As though he can read my mind, the moment it begins to feel good, Ziel pulls back and studies my face. “Better?” he whispers.
I nod. And then he makes it even better than it was by sliding a hand down between us and stroking my clit. He pumps slowly and steadily, propped up on one forearm while the other hand builds my pleasure. When my thighs start to quiver, he increases his pace, thrusting faster, tightening the circles made by his finger.
When he lightly pinches my clit, I scream, pleasure sliding over my thoughts, quelling my mind like an eclipse, like the moon blocking the sun.
Ziel moans his satisfaction moments later, then collapses on top of me so that we’re pressed chest to chest. He stays there for a moment, and I enjoy the feel of his rapidly thudding chest, his warmth, before he rolls off to one side and then gathers me close with an arm.
His eyes study mine carefully. “Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “It was perfect.”
Tears fill my eyes, because it was perfect. But also, because I know that it was just a perfect dream.
34
I nearly die of embarrassment on the drive home, because that sex dream I had? Apparently, it was a loud one.
Alanna and Janie tell everyone about it. It’s the prime gossip in the van.
William gets smug, thinking the dream is about