Paradise. There was no mistaking that feeling now. He had lived eons avoiding the wonderful, terrible thunder in the soul, the unquenchable ache in the heart that had damned him. Yes, he knew the feeling well. It was like an old ghost come back to haunt him.
He stepped over the threshold. “I cannot sleep in a bed,” he told her. “My wings prohibit me. Feel free to avail yourself.” He hesitated. “Remember our bargain,” he reminded her. “I shan’t be gone long….”
6
R hiannon followed Gideon out of the anteroom and watched him stride down the corridor. How tall he was. He nearly filled the span, his magnificent wings all but sweeping the ground. If his posture wasn’t so clenched, they would have done just that. The legend of the fallen archangel condemned to live out his eternity in solitude upon the Isle of Darkness in the enchanted Archipelago of Arcus wasn’t exaggerated. He was a force to be reckoned with, and one she could not resist.
She had become as two people inhabiting the same skin since their encounter in the pool. Where had her innocence gone? She had never seen a naked, fully aroused male before. She should have resisted, but she couldn’t. He had awakened something deep down inside, at the very core of her sexuality that commanded her. His touch was pure ecstasy, his kiss sublime, his passion irresistible. He had aroused her to pleasures of the flesh she never imagined, pleasures that demanded consummation. What was happening to her under this enigmatic creature’s spell? Where had the shy, virginal, proper young lady she had always been gone?
A flash of bright sunlight beaming along the corridor as the double doors opened caught her eye. It was all too brief. The door slammed shut, casting the cave in bleak semidarkness again, with only the torches in their iron brackets on the curved walls picking out the turns and twists in the labyrinth.
Rhiannon breathed a weary sigh. She could certainly understand his first two conditions, but why she must remain in the cave on such a beautiful sunny day, when she would surely see any of the pitfalls he was so worried over, was beyond her. He said they were alone on the isle, so there was no threat of harm from anyone. It made no sense.
She started down the corridor with a shrug. How could he sleep without a bed? She was halfway to the sleeping chamber he had allowed her when she remembered something she had thought odd earlier. Taking a turn, she went to the largest chamber and entered it. Glancing around the room, she spied the strange, almost heart-shaped alcove recessed in the rocky wall and gasped. Stealing close, she traced the shape of the niche with her hands. Was this carved to fit him, to accommodate his wings? Yes, it must be. It was filled with his scent, and she breathed him in deeply.
Rhiannon stepped inside the niche and appraised its size. She was lost in it, but he would not be; it would fit him utterly. How could he sleep standing up? She couldn’t imagine it. But it must be so. She folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes, standing thus to test it. It wasn’t long before she grew restless and finally left the alcove.
Retracing her steps, she returned to the chamber with the bed and flopped down upon it trying to imagine herself in Gideon’s arms atop the eiderdown quilts. His scent was still fresh in her nostrils, and she whispered a moan writhing there, her arms stretched over her head. Lowering them, she palmed her body through the homespun kirtle, sliding her hands over the mounds of her breasts, pausing upon the nipples hardening at her touch. Her hands slid lower, following the contours of her waist, her belly and thighs. As if they had a will of their own, her fingers began to inch up the skirt of the kirtle until she’d exposed herself.
Parting the tuft of pubic curls with her fingertips, Rhiannon probed for the spot Gideon had found, then groaned when she touched the hard bud of her clitoris. Closing
He stepped over the threshold. “I cannot sleep in a bed,” he told her. “My wings prohibit me. Feel free to avail yourself.” He hesitated. “Remember our bargain,” he reminded her. “I shan’t be gone long….”
6
R hiannon followed Gideon out of the anteroom and watched him stride down the corridor. How tall he was. He nearly filled the span, his magnificent wings all but sweeping the ground. If his posture wasn’t so clenched, they would have done just that. The legend of the fallen archangel condemned to live out his eternity in solitude upon the Isle of Darkness in the enchanted Archipelago of Arcus wasn’t exaggerated. He was a force to be reckoned with, and one she could not resist.
She had become as two people inhabiting the same skin since their encounter in the pool. Where had her innocence gone? She had never seen a naked, fully aroused male before. She should have resisted, but she couldn’t. He had awakened something deep down inside, at the very core of her sexuality that commanded her. His touch was pure ecstasy, his kiss sublime, his passion irresistible. He had aroused her to pleasures of the flesh she never imagined, pleasures that demanded consummation. What was happening to her under this enigmatic creature’s spell? Where had the shy, virginal, proper young lady she had always been gone?
A flash of bright sunlight beaming along the corridor as the double doors opened caught her eye. It was all too brief. The door slammed shut, casting the cave in bleak semidarkness again, with only the torches in their iron brackets on the curved walls picking out the turns and twists in the labyrinth.
Rhiannon breathed a weary sigh. She could certainly understand his first two conditions, but why she must remain in the cave on such a beautiful sunny day, when she would surely see any of the pitfalls he was so worried over, was beyond her. He said they were alone on the isle, so there was no threat of harm from anyone. It made no sense.
She started down the corridor with a shrug. How could he sleep without a bed? She was halfway to the sleeping chamber he had allowed her when she remembered something she had thought odd earlier. Taking a turn, she went to the largest chamber and entered it. Glancing around the room, she spied the strange, almost heart-shaped alcove recessed in the rocky wall and gasped. Stealing close, she traced the shape of the niche with her hands. Was this carved to fit him, to accommodate his wings? Yes, it must be. It was filled with his scent, and she breathed him in deeply.
Rhiannon stepped inside the niche and appraised its size. She was lost in it, but he would not be; it would fit him utterly. How could he sleep standing up? She couldn’t imagine it. But it must be so. She folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes, standing thus to test it. It wasn’t long before she grew restless and finally left the alcove.
Retracing her steps, she returned to the chamber with the bed and flopped down upon it trying to imagine herself in Gideon’s arms atop the eiderdown quilts. His scent was still fresh in her nostrils, and she whispered a moan writhing there, her arms stretched over her head. Lowering them, she palmed her body through the homespun kirtle, sliding her hands over the mounds of her breasts, pausing upon the nipples hardening at her touch. Her hands slid lower, following the contours of her waist, her belly and thighs. As if they had a will of their own, her fingers began to inch up the skirt of the kirtle until she’d exposed herself.
Parting the tuft of pubic curls with her fingertips, Rhiannon probed for the spot Gideon had found, then groaned when she touched the hard bud of her clitoris. Closing
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