him?
Love?
Don’t be
ridiculous.
She may
say—even now, after everything that happened—that she believes in love at first
sight; but over the last few years, her experience had been that it was more
like lust at first sight.
Let love
develop slowly…always a good—and nearly impossible—thing.
Horny?
Again—Sure…look
at him. He had a fantastic body—slim and well-toned, and she tingled with
anticipation at the mere prospect of making love to…with him and seeing if he
could deliver as good as he looks.
So what was it
that made her not want to let him go…not yet, anyway?
Maybe never.
He seemed
reluctant to leave, too, but she felt an inner sting when she remembered how
crushed she had been last night when, even though he saved her from her
attacker, he had not been there—twice—when she had expected and needed him to
be.
What were the
chances he was already married…or in a serious relationship…or—is it
possible?—that he was gay and interested in her for nonsexual reasons?
It hurt her
head trying to figure it all out, but before she keyed the door lock, she
turned to him and slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close. She could
feel the hardness of his body against her, the heat of his breath on her face,
and the sensations took her breath away. When she looked up into his eyes—as
dark as coals in the shadowed alcove…no golden glint now—all she could think
was how amazing it would be to be lying in bed naked with him.
Not right
now…not today.
But soon.
Fighting an
urge to do more to him, she brought her mouth up close to his and, closing her
eyes, kissed him long and strong. At first, the kiss was chaste, but then she
parted her lips and playfully darted her tongue between his teeth.
He responded
in kind, and his tongue slid into her mouth, wiggling back and
forth…probing…teasing…tasting.
She felt
suddenly flushed, but even though she was lost in the embrace and the passion
of the moment, she couldn’t help but notice something…strange.
Samael wasn’t
like anyone else she had French-kissed before—even Frankie Sheldon, her sweetie
back in elementary school when she had first kissed a boy.
It was his
tongue.
It wasn’t just
big. That would have been unsettling enough. It also seemed—
This is
impossible!
—like it had a
life of its own.
It slid
between her lips and teeth like a snake, nestling into the ground.
It writhed…It
twisted…It undulated…It throbbed as it moved in and out of her mouth, almost
gagging her with deeper and deeper thrusts but, at the same time, it created a
violently sexual rush like she had never experienced before. Every nerve in her
mouth was, for the first time in her life, truly alive. Warm, tingling rushes
mixed with sharp, jabbing chills that spread up and down her body, centering in
her lower belly. The feeling was so intense she actually imagined that his
tongue was forked, and each moist, pointed tip was exploring depths of her
mouth she hadn’t reached even when she had gone down on a man.
This is
absolutely insane ,
she thought as she clung to him greedily and ground her hips against his hips.
She was dimly
aware that they were in a public area. Anyone passing by on Congress Street
would see them. Any moment now, she expected to hear someone yell: “Hey! Get a
room!”
And that’s all
she could think about.
She wanted him
now—his body, mind, heart, and soul—more than she had ever wanted a man. Of
course, he had no soul to give her. He had forfeited it eons ago when he had
shed his angelic nature and embraced his demonic side.
But Claire
knew nothing of that at this moment.
All she knew
was that as insane as it was, she had to have him.
Now.
She was
relieved to see that Sally wasn’t home when they got upstairs. It was only
then, when they entered Claire’s bedroom and he began to undress that she saw
his tail.
Her first
thought was that it was a trick of the light or…or something…a shadow
Love?
Don’t be
ridiculous.
She may
say—even now, after everything that happened—that she believes in love at first
sight; but over the last few years, her experience had been that it was more
like lust at first sight.
Let love
develop slowly…always a good—and nearly impossible—thing.
Horny?
Again—Sure…look
at him. He had a fantastic body—slim and well-toned, and she tingled with
anticipation at the mere prospect of making love to…with him and seeing if he
could deliver as good as he looks.
So what was it
that made her not want to let him go…not yet, anyway?
Maybe never.
He seemed
reluctant to leave, too, but she felt an inner sting when she remembered how
crushed she had been last night when, even though he saved her from her
attacker, he had not been there—twice—when she had expected and needed him to
be.
What were the
chances he was already married…or in a serious relationship…or—is it
possible?—that he was gay and interested in her for nonsexual reasons?
It hurt her
head trying to figure it all out, but before she keyed the door lock, she
turned to him and slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close. She could
feel the hardness of his body against her, the heat of his breath on her face,
and the sensations took her breath away. When she looked up into his eyes—as
dark as coals in the shadowed alcove…no golden glint now—all she could think
was how amazing it would be to be lying in bed naked with him.
Not right
now…not today.
But soon.
Fighting an
urge to do more to him, she brought her mouth up close to his and, closing her
eyes, kissed him long and strong. At first, the kiss was chaste, but then she
parted her lips and playfully darted her tongue between his teeth.
He responded
in kind, and his tongue slid into her mouth, wiggling back and
forth…probing…teasing…tasting.
She felt
suddenly flushed, but even though she was lost in the embrace and the passion
of the moment, she couldn’t help but notice something…strange.
Samael wasn’t
like anyone else she had French-kissed before—even Frankie Sheldon, her sweetie
back in elementary school when she had first kissed a boy.
It was his
tongue.
It wasn’t just
big. That would have been unsettling enough. It also seemed—
This is
impossible!
—like it had a
life of its own.
It slid
between her lips and teeth like a snake, nestling into the ground.
It writhed…It
twisted…It undulated…It throbbed as it moved in and out of her mouth, almost
gagging her with deeper and deeper thrusts but, at the same time, it created a
violently sexual rush like she had never experienced before. Every nerve in her
mouth was, for the first time in her life, truly alive. Warm, tingling rushes
mixed with sharp, jabbing chills that spread up and down her body, centering in
her lower belly. The feeling was so intense she actually imagined that his
tongue was forked, and each moist, pointed tip was exploring depths of her
mouth she hadn’t reached even when she had gone down on a man.
This is
absolutely insane ,
she thought as she clung to him greedily and ground her hips against his hips.
She was dimly
aware that they were in a public area. Anyone passing by on Congress Street
would see them. Any moment now, she expected to hear someone yell: “Hey! Get a
room!”
And that’s all
she could think about.
She wanted him
now—his body, mind, heart, and soul—more than she had ever wanted a man. Of
course, he had no soul to give her. He had forfeited it eons ago when he had
shed his angelic nature and embraced his demonic side.
But Claire
knew nothing of that at this moment.
All she knew
was that as insane as it was, she had to have him.
Now.
She was
relieved to see that Sally wasn’t home when they got upstairs. It was only
then, when they entered Claire’s bedroom and he began to undress that she saw
his tail.
Her first
thought was that it was a trick of the light or…or something…a shadow
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