The Darkening (Dawn of Ascension)

  Vela broke a sweat and it wasn’t helping that Samuel now rubbed his thumb in circles over the palm of her hand. She’d never quite understood why the gesture was so damn sexual but it was working. That, and his smoky, chocolate scent had started flowing in her direction.

  Those flowers of yours are getting to me.

  I want to be alone with you.

  He released a soft growl.

  Merl glanced at Samuel. “I’m going to stay here and check out Thorne’s operation, maybe see if I can help. Why don’t you two head back to my house. And just so you know, after I leave here, I’ll be heading out to a couple of clubs and I won’t be back until dawn.”

  Vela almost said something in response, but Samuel called out, “Sounds like a plan.” By then he had hold of her hand and urged her in the direction of the doorway. She took to the idea right away and started walking faster.

  His smile expanded by the time they reached the landing platform, a very male, satisfied response to what he knew would soon happen between them.

  By then, Vela wore her own smile, so she could hardly complain.

  * * * * * * * * *

  “I need a shower,” Samuel said, almost trembling with his need to get Vela underneath him.

  “Here’s an idea. How about I join you?”

  He groaned then hauled her into his arms. A weapons harness, stiff by nature, wasn’t the most comfortable piece of clothing to press up against a woman, but Vela didn’t seem to care.

  He folded it off anyway, even while he held her in his arms. Vela landed against his chest and that’s when things got a little crazy as she slung her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. With his tongue deep in her mouth, he tried to walk her backwards and finally ended up just folding her to the bathroom.

  She let go of him, dropping her feet to the floor, but her eyes had a dazed look and when she waved a hand to get rid of her clothes, her jeans ended up around her ankles. She would have toppled over, but he caught her.

  “Allow me.” He dropped to his knees, lifted a bare foot, slid the pants off the old-fashioned way, then the other.

  He kissed the inside of her right ankle and being the smart woman that she was, she shifted her feet farther apart to increase the room he had to work as he began kissing his way up her leg.

  Soft moans flowed down on his head, then little whimpers. He added bites and sucks, one after the other, moving ever upward. He was just about to get busy when Vela said, “Samuel, I really like what you’re doing, but I’ve got this funny feeling about something.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. He so didn’t want her called back into the darkening, not right now.

  He looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

  She stepped away from him. “What do you think is on the other side of that door? I mean, the guest room has a closet, and the toilet’s on the opposite side of this room. So…” She let the word hang.

  He lifted his head and saw that an archway, centered in the wall well beyond the massive shower, led to a door. “It can’t be Merl’s bedroom.”

  Vela met his gaze. “Knowing Merl, I think I know what it is and that’s exactly where I want to be right now.”

  She left him kneeling, wondering if he’d lost his touch, then he got it, which of course launched him to his feet. By the time she shoved the door open, he fit right up against her back, one hand on her hip, as he crossed the threshold with her.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, “this is the most decadent room I’ve ever seen.”

  He couldn’t have agreed more. The lights had come on the moment Vela opened the door, mood-lighting, with a rim of pot-lights glowing in a soft teal all round the perimeter. A dark sensuality permeated what was a very private room. Directly across from the door, a screen dominated the entire wall, featuring the portrait of a couple from the waist up, naked, and in a tight embrace, the man kissing her neck. He glanced to his right and saw a video camera and some controls. So the screen could also be used to project images, maybe to play a movie.

  His gaze drifted to the center of the room. One large overhead pot light lit up an apparatus he’d always wanted to try out, a tall, leather, bench-like mount, over which the woman would recline face down. And if Vela was game, he’d love to do this with her because the room served one purpose: to allow for wing-mount while making love.

  His erection punched at his kilt, which reminded him that he’d only partially undressed.

  She turned to him, her eyes dilated, her scent perfuming the air. “The mount has leather straps at the top. I could really hold on, keep my balance. Samuel, I want to do this. Are you game?”

  He shoved the door shut with his foot and while kissing her again, and almost tripping over her as he moved her in the direction of the mount, he sent, More than game. We’ll both be able to let our wings fly.

  I know, I know. Now lose the rest of your clothes, warrior.

  He drew back from her and laughed. He waved a hand and got rid of his kilt, briefs, battle sandals and shin guards. He meant to kiss her again, but she planted her hands on his pecs, fondling him with just her thumbs. “Hey, you were magnificent in the darkening. I mean it. The way you fought, your speed, that you could fold like that and levitate and all the while your mist flowed around you in the most elegant streamers. I was mesmerized.”

  Her words heated his mind and electrified his body, making his muscles pop in some kind of remembered action of the battle itself. “I kept thinking about you, Vela, about finishing the fight so that I could get back to you. I wanted you safe.”

  Her hands slid down his chest and around his back. “I am safe, so thank you for that, for getting us through.”

  He smiled. “I wasn’t the only one there.”

  “I know. But you’re here and I’m thanking you.”

  He kissed her, more intensely this time, because he knew she admired him, thought well of him, and had approved his part in Duncan’s rescue. As he slid his tongue into her mouth, she suckled, which forced a groan from his throat.

  Her hands moved slowly from wing-lock to wing-lock, her fingers kneading the length of each lock then teasing the apertures. He wept for her so that as she moved, the lubricant that allowed for wing-release spread over his back.

  By now, he arched over her, pushing his cock against her, savoring that her hips pushed back. Let’s try out that mount, he sent.

  But as he released her, she said, “I want you to lie down first, on your stomach. I need to suck down some of those juices.”

  Okay, he almost came because her choice of words were as erotic as what she wanted to do to him. He didn’t argue with her either but stretched himself out on the mount.

  “Spread your legs a little more.”

  He smiled and a thrill shot down his testicles. Her hands were on him first, but not touching his wing-locks. Instead, she fondled him low. “You have a beautiful ass,” she said. Then she was stroking his buttocks, kissing and licking. When she dipped low and licked and plucked at his perineum then his balls, he emitted a sound that fell somewhere between an anguished groan and a grunt.

  “You’d better stop,” he called out. “Or I won’t last.”

  She chuckled. “Well, we can’t have that.”

  He felt her move in close to him from behind, lean over and that’s when more of the magic happened as she got busy with his wing-locks. She started at the upper right and he closed his eyes and savored. She sucked at the tip, moaning, her hips pumping into him in the nicest way.

  He decided then and there that he needed to add onto his house. He had to have a room like this, one where he could be with Vela as often as he liked, maybe everyday for a good long stretch.

  As she sucked on his wing-locks, the thought of having her with him always worked on his mind and on his heart. What was happening to him? What was the breh-hedden doing to him?

  He seemed to be falling for her, straight off a cliff, tumbling over and over. But that made no sense in hi
s solitary life, the one he lived, a wolf’s life, functioning with his Militia Warrior pack, but moving at the edges of society, never fully engaged.

  Whatever this was, he’d reached a point where he wanted to be inside her, to bury himself, to feel that connection to her.

  I need you, he sent. He lifted up and she drew back at the same time. He turned toward her and kissed her again, his erection pressing against her, his hips angling, seeking.

  Let me get prone, Samuel. God, I need you inside me, too. Now. My wing-locks are screaming because they know I’m going to release.

  Mine, too.

  He let her go and she whirled to lie face down. “Oh, this is heaven because your scent is all over the leather.” She took a deep breath and groaned. “Incredible.” She took hold of the straps.

  He split the mass of her blond hair, pushing it away from her back to hang down on either side of her. He loved the sight of her beautiful back, glistening from her wing-locks doing what they do, swelling, moistening, getting ready to mount. Even looking at the swollen ridges worked his cock.

  She spread her legs and he had to have a good look at her beautiful bareness, her swollen lips and folds, that she also glistened below.

  He dropped to his knees, needing to have a taste and the moment his tongue connected she cried out. He gripped her hips, wanting her to come just once before he pierced her.

  He drove his tongue hard, her sweet floral flavor another tantalizing sensation that kept him hard and ready. Come for me, Vela, just once before we mount.

  Somehow his voice in her head must have done the trick because she cried out, her hips pumping against the mount, writhing as he rode her orgasm to the end.

  When she lay slack, he rose up and stroked her buttocks, just as she’d touched and fondled him. He went upward, massaging her waist. But when he reached her wing-locks, he sucked on the lowest one, which brought a new moan out of her mouth.

  You ready for a wing-release? he asked.

  Yes. I’m so ready. And I want you, Samuel, all of you, as deep as you can get.

  He lifted up and using his hand, guided his cock into her waiting body, pressing slowly to get positioned.

  When he was in, he began to thrust, watching as she used the straps, one in each hand, to counter his moves, which created the best friction.

  She breathed roughly against the mount. “I won’t last long.”

  “Me, neither.”

  He’d barely been able to get the words out. Being inside her, with her scent rich in his nostrils, her wetness easing every stroke, all of it worked his wing-locks. They were swollen now and pleasure flowed in waves over his body and plucked at his balls.

  She panted as he gripped her hips to gain the balance he needed. He pumped faster and he felt her tighten around his cock.

  “I’m going to come.” Her body arched and he watched as her wings began to fly from the locks. She clenched around him hard and screamed her pleasure.

  The sounds she made, coupled with the sight of her wing-release, brought his release. He roared as the sensations combined to flood his body with pleasure. His cock jerked with each pump of fluid, the feel of his wings streaking through and pleasuring each of his locks so that he writhed as he drove into her. The flesh of her hips in his hands drove him to an ecstasy that kept delivering, jolts of sensation that flowed upward through his abdomen and forced guttural shouts from his throat.

  On the climax moved, like nothing he’d known before, his wings flapping in strong downward sweeps even as Vela’s moved, even as she kept crying out. Her hands pulled hard on the straps, keeping them both anchored.

  Pleasure on pleasure.

  Cresting more than once.

  Finally, the last wave rose and fell to a gentle easing down. He breathed hard, Vela as well, her arms now hanging loosely down the sides of the leather mount, her thick blond hair draped on either side of her head.

  “I want one of these,” she said, chuckling.

  He smiled and placed his hand on the center of her back, touching her between her wings. “Your wings are extraordinary. And gray, with a darker gray banding at the tips. They’re beautiful.”

  “Like your eyes, Samuel,” she said softly. “Like your eyes.”

  She craned her neck to look back at him. “And your wings are an incredible shade of blue.” She lowered her head, looking peaceful and relaxed. “Do you think that means something, that our wings reflect each other’s eye color?”

  “I don’t know.” Her wings could have been polka-dotted, in bright yellow and purple, and he wouldn’t have cared. “I’m content more than I can say being connected to you like this.”

  “I know what you mean.” She flapped her wings gently then released a deep sigh. “I do know what I want right now.”

  “What?”

  “To curl up beside you in bed and sleep for about a decade.”

  He smiled. Nothing could have sounded better. “But I’d still like that shower.”

  * * * * * * * * *

  After spending the rest of the night and a good part of the day asleep, Vela awoke cradled in Samuel’s arms, facing him. She kept sighing, her contentment boundless. Earlier, around dawn, Samuel had awakened her gently then made love to her, bringing her to another roaring climax, which she was pretty sure Merl must have heard since both she and Samuel had cried out repeatedly.

  If Merl had even come home last night.

  Merl was one of those big unknowns, living almost hedonistically as a refugee from what sounded like a messed up dimension. But Merl wasn’t her problem right now, and hopefully never would be. He had his own path just as she had hers.

  She lay beside Samuel, her head on his shoulder. She kept fondling the incredible curves of his pecs, the dip below his sternum, the rolling landscape of his abs. “I still want to work as a counselor, no matter what this new power means.”

  To her surprise, Samuel chuckled. “Why? It seems to me you have a whole new path laid out for you.”

  She hadn’t expected to hear something like that from him. She leaned back and met his gaze. “But, why wouldn’t I still want to counsel those unfortunate women? I’ve been studying psychology for years and I’ve had a lot of counseling myself. I think I could do some good.”

  “Doing good isn’t the point. You’re not built for it.”

  She didn’t like the direction of this exchange, but she pressed on. “I think you’re wrong and given what happened at the palace, when I was able to give Alison some peace, this new power I’m experiencing might just take my counseling to a new level. In which case, I could be of even more use.”

  He frowned slightly. “Remind me again what you did?”

  “I placed my hand on her forehead. I comforted Alison. The Alison Wells. I felt her empathic power flow through me and into her, easing her. And that’s one reason I think you’re wrong.”

  “I didn’t mean to pick a fight this morning. It’s just that I’ve been inside your mind and I saw how much you loved traveling and living a more adventurous life. That’s all. I think you might want to open yourself up to, I don’t know, a calling that might have more meaning and purpose for you personally.”

  “Like what? Like serving as a Militia Warrior?”

  “I didn’t say that. In fact, I don’t think you’re a warrior. But this gift has to mean something, has to mean more than you think it does. Have you considered the possibility that the attack in 1922 affected you in a way that shut down your adventurous spirit, or did you already deal with that in counseling?”

  Vela couldn’t quite meet his gaze because her conscience prickled her. During her sessions, she’d repeatedly glossed over the subject, afraid to plumb the depths of what had happened to her the night Jeff and his squad rescued her. “You may be right,” she said quietly. She then glanced at him and frowned. “But what of you, Samuel?”

  He drew his arm from around her and crossed his arms to rest on top of his head. “What about me? I think I’m doing all righ
t.”

  With that one move, she knew she had a choice to make. If she pressed on, the argument would escalate. But his strident opinions of how she should best live her life rankled. And hey, turnabout was fair play, so she said, “I think you should become a Warrior of the Blood.”

  “What?” he all but shouted, drawing his brow into a neat line of ridges. “You think I should become a What-Bee? Based on what?”

  “On seeing you battle beside Thorne, you know, the Supreme High Commander of the Allied Forces, and Warrior Leto in his beast-state? You’re their equal. Hell, you might even exceed them, Samuel. What do you think of that?”

  “My being equal in power has nothing to do with it. I’m a Militia Warrior. Even Gideon, after the breh-hedden took him down and his powers increased, didn’t join up. I belong to the Thunder God Warriors.”

  “But Gideon has a different set of responsibilities. He’s Colonel Seriffe’s second-in-command. And you’re just a fighter.”

  “I’m a back-up Section Leader. I have responsibilities.” But his frown deepened.

  “Oh, I know what it is. I get it.”

  He leaned up on his elbow, turning slightly to face her, anger flashing in his eyes. “What do you get?”

  “I may not have dived into your mind, but I understand something about you. The Warriors of the Blood are a tight group, really tight, connected, and that’s not something you do. Ever.” She even punched her forefinger into his chest for emphasis.

  He narrowed his gaze, a smile suddenly playing at his lips. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve connected pretty well with you.”

  Since he shed his bitter chocolate scent, and her body responded, she leaned in and kissed him. Samuel had full, sensual lips and he knew how to work his tongue. For a few seconds, she even considered drawing him back down on top of her and encouraging him to take her again.

  But she had a point she wanted to make, so she responded, “Then let me mind-dive with you.”

  He snorted. “You want me to prove that I can connect by allowing you inside my head? No. And I’ve already told you why.”

  “You mean those elusive streams of energy that haven’t yet made an appearance?”