Page 41 of A Lost Light

He turned his head to kiss my palm, then drew back, giving me a sultry look that was sin incarnate on the face of an angel. “I plan to enjoy this. To take my time drinking in every wonder being corporeal has to offer. Let me get the door.”

I huffed a laugh as he drew away and turned to go lock the door. I didn't blame him for being greedy. While it would definitely be fun to be there when Elijah got to experience the others—who I absolutelyknewwould be interested eventually—I understood his need for privacy this time. I was also feeling a bit selfish myself right about now. I watched the flex of his perfect ass and long legs as he crossed the room and wondered if I might be dreaming.

Elijah was here, alive and warm, and with a beautiful body to share in the pleasure. I was tempted to pinch myself.

I pushed myself up against the headboard and stuffed some pillows under my shoulders so I could recline while I watched him prowl back to me. His every move was graceful and determined, and while I couldn't get enough of that, I also couldn't help but tease.

“Wait,” I said, making a confused face. “You're an angel. Aren't you guys supposed to be all about purity?” I was only half joking when I tilted my head and asked, “Are you a virgin, Elijah?”

He stopped at the foot of the bed and looked down at me, a towering golden being of magic and grace. “I am,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Although I don't know if this body's experiences before I took over possession count….” He grinned. “But don't worry, witch. I saw the things the High Choirs got up to when they thought no one was looking. The orgies. The drunken revelry.” His smile grew absolutely wicked. “And I've been present for enough of your own sexual encounters. I'm observant. I've felt what you felt, intimately, when you held meinside your aura while you were with the others.” He bent down and started to crawl up the bed and over me, his wings flaring out to the sides, bathing us both in golden light. “I knowexactlywhat you like and what you dislike. What makes your breath come short and your body quake with pleasure.”

I licked my lips, my brain short-circuiting as I took that all in.

“Fuck,” I finally breathed out, desire pulsing through me.

Elijah grinned. “That is the idea, yes.”

Chapter 22

Elijah

Andy lay propped up on the bed before me, every luscious curve on display, her smile welcoming and her eyes hooded with desire, despite what I was. She was beautiful, in that lush, fertile way that only a female witch could be, her entire being an expression of the ancient whispers of primal, earthy pleasures, of knowing you were truly one with nature and all creation, put on this plane to experience all the wonders of being alive.

But what sang to me, what called to more than her physical beauty, or the power of her magic, was the very essence of this amazing woman herself—her heart and soul, the reason I was free from the slavery of the bestiary, the reason I stood here now, in a physical body, able to burn with this desire in a way I had never experienced before, even in my old life.

My heartbeat was loud, thrumming through me. My body was awash in heat. My cock throbbed, bobbing heavy and needy against my belly as I crawled to her. My people had tricked most of the mortals in the Planus realm—and no few beings in Magea as well—into thinking we were the mouthpiece of some all-powerful god. But the only deity I worshipped was the goddess before me.

Long ago, I had been indoctrinated, as all young angels were, fed the same lies that the mortals were fed to keep them in awe of our greatness and power. A vast majority of angels—the lower classes who weren't part of any governing choir—thought there was some truth to our origin story. That we really were the superior race acting on messages from god, passed down to the holy choirs. I had the fortunate misfortune of being born with powerful magic. I was recruited, brought into the inner circle, and began training to join a choir. Until then, I had lived under the belief that base desires of the flesh were not befitting our kind. That we should be pure. Holy. Devoutly adhering to the morals we were taught in every way.

It was all a lie meant to keep the choirs in power and in control of not only the other realms, but their own subjects as well. I soon learned—accidentally, and before they were ready to impart that particular knowledge—that it was all bullshit.

And now I knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that pleasure of the flesh, that the sharing of mind, body, and soul with another being, was actually one of the most holy experiences a person could have. We weremeantto savor all life had to offer. We were meant to glory in the beauty and wonder that came with having a physical form. And I wasn't going to squander that gift a second time.

I started at her feet, sliding my hands over the tops, noting the shapes of her adorable toes, the arch of her foot, the way she squirmed when my newly sensitive fingertips slid lightly over her ankles. Ticklish. That was a new sensation as well.

Though I had lived in a physical body once upon a time, it had been so long. The memories of the experiences of that time were nothing more than ghostly wisps, impossible to grasp. When I first woke in this new body, everything was too loud. Too bright.Every sensation too strong. Even the touch of clothing against my body seemed like a cacophony that I couldn't bear. And though that had improved significantly, still… every experience was heightened. I watched the others around me, and I knew they didn't see and feel the world quite as I did now.

The sensation of my fingertips and palms gliding over Andy's soft skin demanded every bit of my attention, drew me into a sort of trance. I could happily spend the rest of my life just touching her, feeling her skin against my own. My hands glided upward, over her lower legs to her knees as I wantonly crawled between her legs. She bent her knees, planting her feet on the bed, and I ran my hands up the backs of her generous thighs, loving the softness of them, the weight of her flesh in my hands. I squeezed, earning me a little laugh. A sound of fond amusement at my fascination. I rewarded her with a kiss to the soft inner side of each knee, my lips lingering, each press of my flesh to hers like a drug.

She didn't complain. She didn't comment on my fixation, or demand that I hurry up and provide something more. She understood. My witch knew me. She saw me. And judging from the little shivers as I moved higher, she was just as delighted by this moment as I was.

Her fingers slid though my hair as I pressed kisses along her inner thigh. The sensation of her fingers skating across my scalp, curling to lightly grip my hair, was pure heaven. And still, she didn't hurry me along. So patient. SoAndy.I wondered if any of her other loves ever saw this side of her. The gruffness and bluster dropped. The desperate, frenzied rush to completion abandoned as she let herself justbe.

I reached the thatch of lightly trimmed green curls between her legs and playfully nuzzled there, earning another of those soft, surprised little laughs. The contrast of rough and soft against my skin filled me with delight, and I finally let myselfmove on to more urgent desires. Parting her folds with two fingers of one hand, I tasted my witch, slowly laving her lips, swiping the flat of my tongue from her opening to her clit, playing, tasting, and reveling in every stuttered breath from the woman I loved.

This was heaven. I had felt her pleasure as the others loved her, in those moments when she invited my ghost self into her aura. I had also felt her joy as she pleasured them. But I had never tasted her. Never felt her against my tongue. Never held her in my own arms as she came apart.

Her grip in my hair tightened, sending a delicious zing of pleasure down my spine and straight to my cock. I glanced up as I swirled my tongue around her swollen nub, my gaze taking in the lovely sight of her soft belly and her voluptuous breasts before I met her eyes, watching her face as I latched onto the little nub and sucked lightly.

Her gray eyes were full of love and lust. At my attentions, she threw her head back and gasped. So I did it again. I wasn't lying when I told her I had been a virgin at my death. But I also wasn't lying when I said I knew her body in a way no one else did. I had been there with her, feeling what she felt, and I knew all the little things that drove her higher.

I shifted my hands to her hips to hold her still when she arched her back, pressing her mound closer to my face. My cock ached, trapped against the blankets and throbbing near to burst. When Andy's body tensed, I sped up, flicking her clit with my tongue as I slid two fingers into her hot, wet core, curling upward to find that spot she love so much and apply pressure. She fluttered around my fingers, yelping as she released my hair to grip the bedsheets.

“Elijah!”

She sound of my name on her lips as she came was more glorious than the singing of any chorus of angels. I nearly camemyself, right then. But I somehow held on. I wanted to release inside of her. To fully be part of her in a way I never could before.

I slowed my motions, easing my fingers from her and gently swiping the flat of my tongue over her clit as she came down from her climax. When her body relaxed and her breathing evened out, I moved higher, hungrily sliding my hands over the dip of her waist, kissing the soft round of her beautiful belly, pausing to dip my tongue into her belly button just to get her to laugh again.

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