Page 43 of Uriel
Before I can respond, he leans in and kisses me. It’s different from our previous kisses—there’s no hint of celestial energy, no taste of eternity. Instead, it’s wonderfully, beautifully human. Warm and real and full of promise. I melt into him, my handsfinding purchase on his shoulders as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer.
When we finally part, I’m breathless, my head spinning with the enormity of what’s happening. Uriel rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.
“We have a full life ahead of us, together,” he says softly. “If you’ll have me, that is. I may not be an archangel anymore, but I promise to spend every day of this mortal life trying to be worthy of you.”
Joy bubbles up inside me, bright and effervescent. It’s a feeling so intense it’s almost painful, filling every corner of my being until I feel I might burst with it.
“Then let’s make every second count,” I say, pulling him in for another kiss.
Uriel’s smile, full of love and relief, outshines a thousand suns as he pulls me to him. His arms slip around my waist, lifting me off the ground as if I weigh nothing at all. He spins us around once, twice, before carrying me up the stairs. I cling to him, laughing and dizzy with happiness as he ascends the steps two at a time.
The moonlit bedroom awaits us, bathed in a silvery glow that lends an ethereal quality to every surface it touches. The four-poster bed in the center of the room beckons us, with its rumpled sheets and plump pillows.
Uriel gently sets me down on my feet at the foot of the bed, but our fingers remain entwined as if afraid to let go of this newfound human connection. Our eyes meet, and in each other’s gaze we find the same heady cocktail of emotions: anticipation, desire, and a hint of nerves.
He takes my hand and leads me to the window overlooking the sprawling gardens below. The manor grounds are bathed in silver and shadows, with only the barest whispers of wind rustling through the trees. It’s breathtakingly beautiful—a postcard-perfect image of a fairytale scene. Yet I find my eyes drawn back to him, this man who has given up so much for me.
“I love you,” I breathe, overcome by the depth of my feelings for this mortal man who was once an angel.
“I love you too,” Uriel whispers back fervently, blue eyes filled with such intensity I feel like I might combust on the spot.
His lips meet mine once more, this time with a newfound tenderness, as though each caress of his lips to mine, every brush of his tongue against mine is an attempt to communicate the depths of his love without words. I melt into him, my body arching against his as if it were made for this moment, for him. He kisses me as though he’s thirsty for me, as though he has been parched and I’m the only thing that can quench his thirst. And maybe he has—maybe we both have—for eons, yearning for this connection without ever knowing what it was we sought.
He breaks the kiss, trailing featherlight kisses down my jawline and along my collarbone, showering me with the gentlest of touches that sends shivers down my spine. I gasp, entangling my fingers in his hair, willing him to take me higher and higher on this wave of unadulterated bliss.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes dark with desire but also filled with concern for my wellbeing. I nod, my voice catching in my throat. His soft smile speaks volumes, conveying both relief and unmistakable arousal.
Uriel leads me to the edge of the bed, where we sit side-by-side, nothing but air between us. We take our time undressing each other, hands trembling slightly as if unveiling a priceless work of art. His gaze burns into mine as I unbutton his shirt one agonizingly slow button at a time, revealing every inch of his chiseled torso.
As the fabric falls away, I’m mesmerized by the sight of intricate wing tattoos adorning his forearms. The designs are exquisite, detailed feathers etched in shimmering ink that seemsto catch the moonlight, giving the illusion of movement. I trace them gently with my fingertips, marveling at how they seem to pulse with an otherworldly energy beneath my touch.
And then we are naked together underneath the silvery light of the full moon, our bodies pressed against each other’s like two puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. His skin is warm against mine, electricity crackling where our flesh meets, the wing tattoos on his arms seeming to flutter as he holds me close.
He takes his time exploring every inch of me—from the shell of my ear to the dip of my collarbone to the curve of my hipbone—as if he’s memorizing each and every contour of my body. His touch is feather-light, making me shiver with anticipation. He worships me as a devotee would a goddess. I’ve never felt more adored or desired in my life.
I can’t help but marvel at the feel of his strong, muscular body against my much smaller frame. His chest is covered in a light dusting of hair, which tickles my sensitive skin as he lowers his mouth to trail kisses down my stomach. He takes his time, tracing delicate patterns against my bellybutton before venturing lower still. His hands skim over the curves of my hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and I gasp as his mouth reaches its intended destination.
He looks up at me through hooded lids, seeking approval or perhaps just reassurance that this is what I want. With shaking hands, I tangle my fingers in his hair, guiding him closer, wanting more of his velvet tongue teasing me in ways I never knew were possible. Each flick and lap of his tongue sends a delicious shiver straight to my core, and I moan aloud—a sound I didn’t even know I was capable of making.
His name falls from my lips like a prayer, and I arch my back off the bed, craving more of his exquisite torment. He responds by slipping a finger inside me, and pleasure explodes behind myeyelids white-hot. My muscles clench around him involuntarily, and he groans in response, as if he can feel my pleasure too.
Slowly, achingly so, he adds another finger—stretching me just enough to accommodate his thumb, which he uses to circle my clit in time with the rhythm of his tongue. I’m on the edge of ecstasy, my breath ragged and uneven as he toys with my body, coaxing every last sensation from me. The tip of his thumb grazes the bundle of nerves hidden just beneath the hood of flesh, and I cry out in pleasure, my hands desperately grasping at the sheets below me.
“Oh gods,” I pant, “How do youknow...? I’ve never...”
He looks up at me, his eyes darkened with need but also a tender expression I didn’t expect. “Angels are watchers,” he purrs, his voice husky with desire. “And I’ve been watching your world for avery—long—time.”
Encouraged by his words, I find my voice again. “Don’t stop,” I beg him, “please don’t stop.”
He grins before returning to his ministrations, but this time with renewed vigor. “I want this to be special,” he whispers between kisses, “I want you to remember this forever.”
I’ve got a feeling his wish will be granted.
His fingers and tongue work in tandem, sending me soaring higher and higher until my whole body is taut like a bowstring. My legs tremble and shake as wave after wave of bliss washes over me. The world around us fades away until there is only the two of us—the sounds of our ragged breathing and the wetness between my thighs the only proof that this isn’t some exquisite dream.
Finally, unable to take any more, I convulse underneath him as my climax crashes over me like a tidal wave—crashing over me in an unrelenting torrent of pleasure that leaves me spent and shaking in its wake. He doesn’t relent though; instead, he guides me through it with steady hands and soft words ofencouragement. As the intensity of the orgasm subsides, my senses begin to return to me. I am aware of the scent of the sea breeze and the salty tang of our sweat. My skin is on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. He tenderly kisses his way up my stomach, stopping at each sensitive spot on his way to my lips.
“My turn now,” I say, a newfound confidence surging through me. I take control, flipping us over so that he’s now beneath me. I run my fingertips along his chine, from the hollow of his neck down to his hips, savoring every inch of him. He moans in pleasure, and emboldened by his reaction, I continue my exploration lower...
