Cursed Angels
I grab a few bits of food from the kitchen and head back to the bedroom. Mara lies on her side, her long hair fanning out over the pillows. She’s my angel. We were once cursed, but now, we’re free. I place the tray down, and she stirs.
“Is everything all right?” she questions in a curious whisper.
“Yes.” Leaning over, I press a soft kiss to her lips. She meets it and deepens it with an urgency that draws me closer to her.
“Make love to me, Archer?”
“You sure you don’t need to rest? I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for yet.” Setting the tray on the floor, I make sure nothing is between us.
“Make me yours.” Her words cement my wavering resolve.
She doesn’t need to ask me a third time before I meet her lips again, and this time, we don’t part. I lie down on the bed and pull her to rest on top of me. Her light frame pressed against my muscular one sends desire coursing through my body. We’ve wasted too many years. This is how I plan on spending the rest of the evening. No, not only tonight, but rather the rest of my life. Entwined with the woman I love.
Mara lowers herself down my body, kissing my chest, and licks the defined V down toward my swelling dick. She lowers my pants, and I help her to kick them off.
“Suck me, Mara.”
She purrs her approval of my need and wraps her plump lips around my now throbbing shaft. Lowering and raising her mouth up and down, she uses her tongue to flick against my cock. My balls tighten in a matter of minutes. My girl’s an expert at this.
“Fuck,” I call out. “I’m going to already, baby.”
She doesn’t stop but increases her tempo, and I guide her further by wrapping my hand around her hair. My hips buck into her mouth, and the sound of her gagging on my cock has me seeing stars. I come with a ferocity I’ve never felt before.
She swallows down everything I give her and comes back up to my face for a kiss. I can taste my saltiness on her lips. Flipping her onto her back, I travel quickly down her body. There’s nothing more delicious than the taste of her pussy. She’s not wearing underwear under her T-shirt, so I bunch it up and flick my tongue along her slit. Mara groans out her appreciation.
“God, yes, Archer.”
I feast on the woman giving herself freely to me like a man starved for years. I want to taste every drop of her sensual arousal. My tongue spears inside her warmth and laps at her. Removing my tongue and pushing two fingers inside her, I stretch her ready for my already hardening cock. I twist my digits up and flick at the sensitive spot inside her, and she ignites immediately, squirting on my face, which I hungrily drink up.
“Archer!” Mara screams, riding out her orgasm on my tongue. I don’t give her time to rest. As she starts to come down from her high, I remove my fingers and replace them with my dick. The instant I push inside her, she comes again, her pussy pulsating around my cock.
I want to leave her sated. No doubt after today, she’s mine and mine alone. Nobody will break us apart again. I will protect her with my life and never leave her side again. I’m going to engrain this message into her with orgasms so she never forgets.
Eventually, I allow my hips to start moving. Slowly at first to give Samara a respite to recover, but it doesn’t last long. I’m inside the most perfect thing in the world, and this is how my life will be from now on. My hips buck wildly as my eyes meet Mara’s.
“I love you.” The confession falls from my lips in a breathless show of affection.
She leans up and kisses me. “I love you too.”
Our tongues tangle in a passionate tango as we climax in tandem. Mara’s pussy milking everything I have to give her. Eventually, when my senses return, I collapse down next to her and position her in my arms, so my dick doesn’t need to leave its sheathed sanctuary.
“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Mara nestles against my chest.
“No. It’s real.”
“Forever?”
“Always.”
Mara’s breathing evens out, and I know she’s fallen asleep. I shut my eyes and allow my brain to switch off for the first time in forever. This is what my vision of life was like as the hopeful boy full of love for the girl with the cherry-red hair. It took us a while, but we got there.
Epilogue
Hunter
“Fuck.” The word is spit in frustration when I stalk through the hallway. The call we just received is that one of Rebekah’s minions, Cole Middleton, has taken it upon himself to open his own version of The Factory.