Dove Caught in a Burning Bush Ch. 07

Promethiel nodded, lowering his mouth to kiss her throat next. "I know, and I'm sorry. But he doesn't see things the way I do, you know that he never has. Iorifrei is a stickler for traditions down to the letter, I am not."

"I suppose it's better than you being some sort of dictator," Crucifel chuckled wryly, her pulse quickening beneath his lips. She wasn't pulling away from him, was she? He was being allowed to caress and touch her, to hold this beautiful being with a barely controlled tremor in his fingers.

"Oh, but I am," Promethiel breathed against her skin, kissing his way down her neck. "I can dictate a poem to your lips, Darling. Your hips and the curve of your spine, I can weave them a tale about your name and the way your sweat tastes upon my tongue."

Her breath hitched, her fingers curling into his hair as he nibbled on her collarbone. "Promethiel..."

"Please," he shivered, "let me tell you how much I love you."

That pause, that infernal, desperate pause that meant she was at odds with herself within her head. She was so caught up in her fears of sin and corruption, he wondered if his sister even knew what she wanted anymore. But she was here wasn't she? Here in response to a direct invitation, knowing full well he meant to have her.

It had been an uphill battle for Promethiel since he'd first began openly tempting Crucifel; it couldn't be soft and sweet, not at first. He needed to make sure that she knew it was wrong, needed her to feel that guilt and stir those internal battles even if it broke his heart to do so. There was a certain flavor of sin he needed to be able to taste on her lips, one saturated with conflict and wholehearted acknowledgement that what they did together was wrong.

He felt his entire body shiver when she whispered back to him, her skin flushing hot under his mouth.

"Yes."

A moment was taken to press his face against her neck, soaking in the faint fragrance of her hair and skin, letting her familiar scent steady him. Then his hands were moving, pulling her robes down her torso to expose her pale flesh, his mouth followed. Pressing to her neck, her shoulders, her chin, tasting her skin as he kissed down to her soft pink nipples, sucking on them in turn until they hardened beneath his breath.

"Oh," she breathed, arms wrapping around his shoulders to dig her fingers into his back as he teased her nipples with his tongue. "You and that mouth of yours..."

His mouth, indeed. He'd use it to devour all of her, down to the last shuddering drop of pleasure. To draw out the most delicious, sacrilegious sounds from her lips as he dragged her down with him. Just into the lightest dove grey, enough to protect her soul whether she liked it or not.

"To she with buds of rose upon her chest, her flowering heart fit for the lost meadows of Eden itself," he breathed, running his hands down her body with a wistful smile, peeling back her robes the rest of the way.

Crucifel moaned, her nails digging into his back as she murmured, "Promethiel..."

"Her lips are the sweetest of fruits, honeyed and damning. Whether held aloft in breeze blown boughs or fallen to split with sweet nectar," Promethiel continued, trailing kisses down her stomach before dipping his tongue between her thighs. His angel groaned, her hands sliding up to grip his wintry hair as her soft whines made his cock twitch with each pass of his tongue over her folds.

"Her floral honey coats my tongue either way," he purred, dragging his tongue over her clit. "For she is my personal garden of Edenara."

Crucifel shuddered, her fingers digging into his scalp as the archangel lapped hungrily between her legs like a being possessed. He was consumed by a covetous, desperate lust, needing to taste her more than anything else in this moment. The only thing he cared about was pleasing her, giving Crucifel everything she needed to make her forget the weight on her shoulders that she'd carried for nearly a thousand years. Even for just a moment.

Promethiel could feel his eyes burning, not with fire, but it's opposite. Pressure ached behind his golden eyes, threatening to spill over as he wrapped his arms around her waist to embrace his sister, pulling her closer as his watery gaze turned up to watch the pale moonlight illuminate her white hair as if it was glowing.

"You're going to be the death of me," Crucifel whimpered, arching her hips as he sucked on her clit. "Please--"

"Almost," Promethiel breathed, sucking harder, swirling his tongue around her clit as his tears melded with the slickness of her inner thighs, hiding them.

"Promethiel, please!"

He was practically whimpering himself as he curved his tongue within Crucifel's sweet folds, plunging it deep inside her body. Her shuddering sounds of pleasure were music to his soul, making him dizzy as he savored her taste and scent. She was so beautiful, so perfect, the most divine creature he had ever known. And she was his, even as it hurt both of them, just as much as he was hers.

Promethiel kissed her folds as she came, lapping at Crucifel's glistening arousal and teasing her sensitive bud one last time with a flick of his tongue. He then took his time licking her clean, kissing her thighs and murmuring a small prayer of adoration against her slick flesh. "I love you," he breathed, nuzzling her thighs as she panted. "I love you, my Heart."

When her fingers brushed his jaw, Promethiel followed her lead without question, helpless to her whims as he crawled over her to kiss her deeply and share the taste of Crucifel's arousal on his lips.

"I love you too," she whispered, voice quivering with the admission, kissing him again as the both of them trembled. "I shouldn't. I should.. I should tear you apart for your crimes. But I can't, I won't." Her hand trailed down his chest, brushing the golden scars at his ribs. "You are my brother, Promethiel, my only family left. I don't want to see you killed or hurt, or be the reason why you fall."

He clung to her like a drowning sailor to the shattered flotsam of his ship. "I know," he breathed, holding her close. "You don't have to worry about me, Love."

'It's not your fault. It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault.'

Promethiel wanted to chant this to her like a hymn, but he couldn't. This operation of the spirit was so delicate, he couldn't pull at the sutures like that after everything he'd accomplished. Not any more than he already had.

Her hand slid along his waist, her fingers featherlight as they ran over his skin. Crucifel's lips pressed against the inked eyes on his shoulder, then his neck, and he shuddered with a dizzying wave of desire. The smile that turned his lips couldn't be fought as her fingers slid between his thighs, brushing his aching cock.

"We can't keep doing this," she whispered against his ear, pressing kisses to his jaw as she stroked him with slow pulls of her hand that had him wanting to cry out. "I'm going to break that last connection you have to God if I keep giving in to this."

"For a moment," he murmured back, pressing the tips of their lips. "Lose that conscience, just focus on us, please."

Crucifel's hand was moving faster, working him over with far more ease than the first time she'd touched him like this. Every squeeze of her fingers sent waves of pleasure through his body, forcing pre to leak down over her fingers as he rocked against her hand with a groan.

"Keep going," he begged breathlessly, clutching her as the eyes on his arms and face alike squinted and rolled with pleasure. "Please, don't stop."

Their mouths met again, and Promethiel wrapped his wings around them as he began to buck desperately against the hand wrapped around him, the fire in his guts burned hotter by the second. He needed this and needed her to know that she could do anything to him, any Goddamn thing, and he wouldn't dare deny her. He needed her to feel the same way, to be able to take whatever she needed from him.

Crucifel could rip the skin from him if she wanted it to keep warm, tear the wings from his back to help her fly higher. Whatever she needed, it would be hers.

Anything but the title of Martyr.

"... I want you inside me," Crucifel murmured into his mouth, pulling back to stare at him with quivering shoulders. "Just one more time, Promi. Then we put this behind us."

A ragged growl rumbled in his chest, fingers running through her long hair as he pushed Crucifel back into the soft sheets of his bed. There was no need to ask twice. The moment she was on her back, Promethiel was kneeling between her legs, spreading them wide for him with a kiss to her throat. "Crucifel," he murmured, "can you promise me something?"

She blinked, eyes hazy with lust as she tilted her head up to give him better access to her neck. "Go on."

"Please, never leave me," he whispered, desperation edging his voice, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "I need you, Crucifel. I need you more than anything in my life, I can't ever lose you."

She shivered, shushing him gently before cupping his face between her hands. "Promethiel," she breathed, lips brushing his. "You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry," he gasped, kissing her again. "Just please promise me, Crucifel."

She was silent for several heartbeats, then nodded. "I promise, you'll never lose me. Not in any way that matters."

He wanted to wail like a wounded animal.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her again with shuddering lips. "Now, come here."

The archangel trembled as he took her, groaning into her mouth as he filled her body with his own in tender but desperate strokes, sinking his shaft between her slick folds almost to the beat of their hearts. Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, arms holding him close as they muffled their cries and moans against each other's mouths.

"Oh, God," Crucifel breathed, clutching at his shoulders as he buried himself inside her. "Promi..."

He slowed down, taking his time to savor the way her walls clung to him, clenching and squeezing in maddening, organic patterns that felt like a more complex caress. Her heat was exquisite, a warm embrace that made his soul ache down to his bones. Promethiel's hands were desperate claws as he pulled her flush to himself, feeling her muscles start to tighten around him.

This was closer to Heaven than he'd ever been in his entire existence, and he was more determined than ever not to lose it.

In the dark, with only the cold moon to spill light over them, he buried himself to a broken rhythm inside the prophetess until they both cried out. Crucifel's legs clamped around his hips as she came apart in his arms, all shuddering, gasping whimpers, her back arching off the bed as he pumped into her with desperate thrusts that sent tremors through her convulsing depths.

Promethiel's eyes were shut tight, his mouth open until he bit down on his lower lip to stifle his own cries, feeling his balls drawing tight against his body. He wasn't done, though, not by far. With a groan, Promethiel moved faster inside of her, pounding into Crucifel until she was clinging to him with trembling hands, her mouth open in a silent cry that could only make the pale flesh of her throat quiver.

He finally followed Crucifel into sweet oblivion, his own voice rough with need as he came, spilling over while gripping her hips to hold his angel still as he pulsed heat deep inside her.

Their bodies trembled together, Promethiel still inside of Crucifel, panting as he buried his face in her neck. They stayed like that for long moments, two figures tangled together in the dark of the king's bedchambers, the soft glow of the moonlight shining through the window to line twitching wings with silver. Then, as Promethiel's breathing evened out, he finally pulled back from Crucifel to look at her with hooded eyes.

"I love you," he whispered, reaching down to brush the white hair that clung to the drying sweat on her brow. "I cannot even express how much I do."

"It's still so strange to me," Crucifel murmured, looking up at him. "To hear those words come from your mouth in that way."

"I know," he said softly, brushing her cheek with a finger. "But I can't stop saying them, not anymore. Now that you know exactly what I mean."

"No," she agreed, pressing a kiss to his palm. "I don't think you ever could, I just thought...well, I thought it was far more innocent than you meant it."

Promethiel practically melted when her lips touched his hand, his mouth twisting into what he felt embarrassingly sure was a wobbly, lovesick grin. "Ah, but it is innocent, Heart," he murmured, tracing her lips with the tip of his finger. "I love you like the sea loves the shore, it's almost like instinct to come crashing back into you no matter how far I'm dragged away."

He stared into her yellow eyes, watching her gaze turn slightly to the side as her already flushed face grew darker.

"No matter how inhospitable and rocky your shores are," Promethiel continued, leaning over her with his snowy hair falling down to mingle with her own matching strands. "I'll gladly break and bleed upon them."

"And what happens if you shatter?" she breathed, closing her eyes as he bent his head to kiss her. "What if the seas dry and you're forced to go another way?"

"I will crawl to you," he promised, nipping gently at her lower lip. "I'll cut my knees on sharp gravel and bleed a new sea with the ichor from my wounds, it will be thicker, clinging tighter to the shore."

Crucifel's brow furrowed in a look of gentle concern, and a sigh escaped her. "This can't last forever, Promethiel."

"Let me be selfish for just a few more moments," he murmured, touching foreheads with her. "Just let me have this time with you while it's still calm and dark."

She was silent, then kissed him with a gentle press of lips that made his breath catch. Promethiel wrapped his arms around the other angel, shifting his hips to begin slowly moving within her again.

Crucifel breathed softly beneath him, her arms wrapped around the archangel in kind as his movements slowly became more insistent as his softening shaft grew taut once more against her walls. Promethiel felt her hands tighten on his shoulders, breath warm against his neck as he pushed deeper into her, feeling her body part and swallow him so easily in comparison to that first tense joining.

"It is going to be very difficult," he warned, biting gently at her earlobe. "To let you go once the sun comes up."

"The sun has to rise eventually, Promethiel," Crucifel shuddered, her heels pressing into his arching back.

He chuckled, nuzzling her as he continued to roll his hips, friction building between them. "Then I'll meet you at the shore at dawn," he promised. "I'll meet you with all my broken pieces and we'll put ourselves back together once we're good and ready."

He paused, his breath catching as she suddenly tightened around him. Her legs constricting like a vice, Promethiel held himself still within her, kissing her long and deep as she whimpered his name into his lips.

"Promethiel," she gasped, the sound breaking his heart and filling it all at the same breath. "Promethiel!"

His head dropped down to the crook of her neck, scraping his teeth along the sensitive flesh as he felt her body clamp around him, her voice trembling as she whispered his name over and over again as she came. Promethiel grinned, hips jerking into her as he let her take everything she needed.

The world fell away for a moment, Promethiel's mind collapsing in on itself as he felt himself coming home.

When they were truly, finally done, the archangel cleaned the mess he'd made with a careful tongue, curving it against Crucifel's inner walls to scoop away his seed from her folds as she ran her fingers through his pale hair. And to his surprise and delight, Crucifel returned the favor in kind, taking him into her mouth and using her tongue to clean him, the gentle suction making his toes curl as his cock threatened to harden all over again.

Promethiel leaned back on his elbows, watching her with half-lidded eyes as she pulled off of him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You make it seem like it's some sort of sweet wine, the way you do it," she murmured, blushing profusely as her nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar taste of semen.

He laughed before reaching out a hand to her, and she took it, giving him a soft huff of her own as he pulled her against his chest with a grin. "Ah, yes. It can be an acquired taste. But if you love the being it is from, you quickly gain an appreciation for it," Promethiel chuckled.

That was where he held her as they began to drift off to sleep, her head resting on his shoulder and wintry hair tickling his cheeks with each slow breath.