Page 38 of Heal Me

“Could tonight be a special occasion?”

A playful smile tugs at his lips. “Tonight is a very special occasion.” He sits up on his knees, and suddenly, huge white wings flare out from his back. They span nearly the width of my queen-size bed.

He tucks his wings in behind his back and I sit up, reaching over his shoulder to run my finger along one of his feathers. It’s soft like down and yet firm at the same time. “They’re beautiful.” I’d love to turn the lamp on to get a better look, but I’d rather not have full lighting when I’m so exposed. Ugh, these stupid body insecurities. I will myself to get out of my head.

He’s now holding one of his feathers in his hand. “May I touch you?”

“Please touch me.” I’m not above begging.

He begins to trace circles around my hard nipple with the feather, and it’s the most erotic feeling I’ve ever experienced. I moan as he moves the feather to my other nipple. Watching as the feather leaves a glistening translucent-looking film on my skin, I reach down to touch it. “The angel dust isn’t a myth?” I gasp.

“You tell me.” He reaches down and rubs his finger in the dust, moving his finger to my mouth, and I suck. My eyes go wide—it’s that same sweet honeysuckle taste only more concentrated. My core starts contracting and I fear I might orgasm, and how is that even possible?

He guides me to lie back down and crouches over me, kissing and licking my stomach. I tense, worrying about the softness of my body. “Charlotte, relax,” he coaxes, tickling me with the feather as he works his way lower. “Your body is so beautiful. So feminine,” he says, and I’m now worrying if the angel’s a mind reader. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this? How many times I’ve imagined worshipping your sexy body,” he says, my panties now having disappeared.

“I thought demigods were the ones to be worshipped?” I ask in a breathless tone.

“In due time.” He nudges my legs farther apart—I’m completely exposed to him. “Look at this beautiful pussy throbbing for me. Is this for me?”

“Yes,” I moan, cheeks heated. Gabe, the quintessential southern gentleman, is a dirty talker, and I can’t believe how wet it’s making me.

Humming in anticipation as he spreads me open with his fingers, he tickles my clit with the feather.

“Oh my God!” I arch up off the bed with a cry.

“Demigod,” he reminds me. “First, I’m going to worship this pretty little clit,” he says, his voice smooth as silk as he tickles my throbbing clit with his feather. “Is that okay?” He looks up at me, waiting for my response.

“Yes,” I somehow manage to say.

In no hurry, he smiles as he positions himself between my legs. He kisses my left inner thigh, and then my right, and then blows a hot breath on my clit. “Gabe, please,” I beg.

He smiles as he slowly kisses my thighs again. “How I’ve fantasized about my head between your legs, eating this sweet pussy,” he says, licking me like a lollipop. I would jerk off the bed, but his hands are firmly on my hips. I try to urge him along with my hips, but just as slow as his Mississippi accent, he’s in no hurry. He looks up at me and smiles from between my legs as he slowly makes figure eight motions with his tongue.

It’s beyond ecstasy, but then my entire body tenses up when I feel something firm enter me. “Talk to me. Is this okay?” Looking down, I see he’s pushed the feather inside me. It’s the most unusual, and yet amazing feeling—tickling but in an oh-so-good way. “I’m sorry, I should have told you what I was about to do.”

“It’s more than okay. The only thing not okay is that you keep stopping. Please, Gabe, don’t stop,” I beg him.

“Whatever my goddess wants.” He smiles, returning to working me with his tongue while stroking me with his feather. I whimper and moan and cry a few incoherent words, until finally I can take no more, exploding in the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life.

He rides out the wild waves of my orgasm, bringing me down slowly with his tongue. Peppering sweet kisses up my body, he smiles, then gives me a chaste kiss. “That was incredible,” I say when I finally stop shaking.

“Good,” he says as he kisses the top of my head and wraps his arms around me, but doesn’t make a move. “We don’t have to go any further tonight if you’re not—”

“Stop talking.” I massage his hard cock through the fabric of his boxers, and it’s his turn to moan. Smiling, I run my nails lightly across his muscled chest and through his chest hair, of which there’s just enough to be extremely sexy. Kissing and licking my way down the hard lines of his stomach, I tug at his boxers and they disappear. I’m presented with the most impressive erection I’ve ever seen. “God, your cock is huge,” I whisper. I’m not sure that was to him, or more an observation to myself.

Climbing on top of him, I ask, “Is this okay?” with mock seriousness as I take a seat on his cock, guiding him in slowly. Trying to relax, I close my eyes, giving my body a second to adjust to his size as I continue to take more of him inside me.

“Fuck, yes,” he mutters, pulling my hips down that last bit, and we both groan. I begin to rock my hips, slowly at first, as he picks up the feather off the bed and strokes my clit. “Charlotte, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and I practically melt down to kiss him.

Rising back up, I begin to move faster on him, swaying my hips and feeling sexy for the first time in a long time; maybe the first time ever. “Gabe,” I pant, moving faster, another orgasm building.

“You feel so damn good,” he groans, levitating the feather in place to hit my clit as he grabs my hips, moving me even faster. There’s so much sensation—nothing like I’ve ever experienced before—and I scream his name. He comes a second later inside me, speaking in a language I don’t understand.

When I collapse on his chest, he wraps his arms around me. And that’s what it’s like to have sex with a demigod, I think with a smile.

We shift on the bed and I lift my head to see what happened. “It can get uncomfortable lying on them,” he explains about why his wings vanished.

“Thank you for showing them to me.” I reach over and grab his feather. “This is mine, by the way.”

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