Page 11 of Gates of Rapture
The groan that left her was guttural and deep, resonant.He planted a hand between her breasts and held her flat.He was strong.He slid the other hand beneath her buttocks and pressed her into his mouth, lifting her up so that she could watch.
Her lips parted as she dragged in air.He slid his hand to the side, caught a nipple between thumb and forefinger, and squeezed.She threw her head back.
Watching her brought a chuff from his throat.His lungs worked like bellows until he was growling and huffing.
“That sound,” she cried.
He couldn’t help the sound he made but when he sucked harder and the chuffs strengthened, her legs locked around his back and he could tell by her cries she was once more caught in ecstasy.
Something inside him eased a little as he brought her over and over, resting between and taking her to the heights until she was limp, her eyes glazed, her breathing fast.
He moved over her again, moving up the bed, up and up until he could position himself against her mouth.He pushed his cock against her lips, demanding.
She met his gaze then slowly parted her lips.When she was wide enough, he plunged into her and mouth-fucked her hard.She used her hands and her nails and scored his buttocks, and it felt just right.
He was taking possession of her.She knew it.He knew it.
He felt his balls grow tight, but he didn’t want to come like this.He withdrew, suspending himself over her, waiting it out.He had to spend himself inside her.
He flipped her over and pulled her up onto her knees.She arched her back, which tilted her buttocks up.He dipped low and licked her until she was flowing wet again then he rose up and drove into her hard.
Damn, his wing-locks.They’d been burning and he had this feeling he would mount his wings, but he didn’t want to.Shit.
As he began to pump into her, he chuffed hard.
“Come for me, Leto.You are so beautiful like this.Come for me.”
Her words, her voice, her body, her scent.He supported himself on one arm and with his free hand he fondled her breasts, squeezing them hard.He bit down on the back of her neck and pumped fast.
Damn his wing-locks.
As he came, he roared because his wings released, adding to the intense pleasure.But would there be enough room for his entire wingspan?Or would he be maimed?
The sensation of releasing into Grace took over and pleasure came from every direction at once.He thrust hard, his wings flapped, and the sound of Grace crying out in pleasure spurred him on.He pumped harder, giving her every bit of who he was as a man.Pleasure rippled over his massive body, and some terrible pain inside him finally drifted away.Grace had come back.She had come home to him.He could breathe again.
He began to slow in his movements and to savor how she sighed and cooed, and that he was connected deep.
At last, his consciousness began to fade, and he fell down on her so that she collapsed under him and under the covering of his wings.
***
At first, Grace was too lethargic to move—but she wouldn’t have been able to anyway.She was caught in some kind of postcoital bliss that rocked her eyes in her head.She smiled and savored.Her mouth was pressed into the mattress, making it even harder to breathe.
Everything was so very wrong, yet so right, which made no sense at all yet complete sense.
Leto had given her a choice.
She would always remember that as probably the most heroic thing he could ever have done with her.She had understood the depth of his need and she knew he’d been locked into some kind of primordial beast-mode.Yet somehow his rational self had shone through.No, she would never forget that he’d given her a choice.
So here she was buried beneath his wings and his massive, bruising body, and she couldn’t move.She could barely breathe, he was so heavy on her.But she could draw just enough air to survive, which made her smile.
She was with Leto, the warrior she had known for the entire two thousand years of her long vampire life, from the time that Thorne had joined the Warriors of the Blood.Leto and Thorne had been battling death vampires together all these long centuries.
Leto was also the warrior she had written all her erotic poems about during her decades in the Prescott Two Creator’s Convent.It was as though somehow her spiritual mind had known that one day she would be here, fulfilled by Leto’s body.
But as she came down from the bliss of ecstasy, her rational mind began to explore all the implications of such irrational behavior.She wasn’t afraid of pregnancy.For reasons she had never understood, she had been barren for almost her entire life.This was a great sadness to her, of course, but not something she’d been able to change in all these centuries.The one birth she had experienced, when she was young, had not ended well.She had always wondered if that was the cause of her inability to conceive.
She doubted she would ever know.
