into
his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he stumbled, almost going
down, but Haniel held him up. Her towel fluttered to the floor. She didn’t
care.
“God, hurry,” Haniel said, forging ahead. He pulled off his shirt,
baring his shoulders and back. His torso rippled with muscle and more.
Charmeine stared. His back had the legacy marks of an angel. She’d only seen them
in a book.
“What are you?” she whispered.
He turned catching her eyes. His shoulders and left arm bore the
marks of an angel, too. She gasped.
“I’m broken,” he ground out. His face had twisted into anger, so
she struggled to get down, wanting to smooth all of his pain away.
Instead of letting her go, Jeremiel moved closer, tumbling her on
the bed as he grabbed Haniel’s arm.
“Stop it. There’s nothing broken about you,” he muttered, kissing
the unmarked skin of his friend’s right forearm gently.
Charmeine watched them, then moved in, too, as some dormant
instinct told her to touch them both. The moment she put her hands on them,
heat flared. She sucked in a breath and kissed Haniel on the mouth. He opened
to her, like a man drowning. Jeremiel stripped off his shirt and climbed on the
bed, arms around them both. She kissed Haniel as if it were the last time, or
possibly the first. Nothing made sense except the taste of him on her lips.
When Jeremiel leaned against her shoulder, she turned to him, seeking his
warmth. He kissed her, and then leaned back.
Charmeine put a fist against her chest to try and still the
frantic beating of her heart. He was lean and muscled and undeniably gorgeous.
His blue eyes crackled with heat. Looking at him, she couldn’t deny it anymore.
He was an angel, born and bred. His legacy marks swirled up his arms and over
his shoulders like ink on water. He let her look her fill, then nodded.
“Yes. I’m an angel,” he said quietly. He ran a finger up his arm,
then drew it down hers. She shivered. “So is Haniel.”
She turned to stare at him. His blonde hair slid across his
forehead as he looked away. “Not anymore, I’m not,” he said bitterly.
Jeremiel growled. “That is a lie. You are just as much an angel
now, as you were two years ago.”
“I can’t fly,” Haniel told Charmeine, as though she would care.
She didn’t. She was trying to internalize what they’d just said without making
a total fool of herself. A prick of awe ran through her, but she stifled it.
They were people before they were angels. And they were struggling through
something profound right in front of her. She licked her lips, working her way into
an underlying tragedy she didn’t quite understand. “I can’t fly either.”
Haniel went perfectly still. Jeremiel glanced at him, then took
her hands in his. “No, you can’t. And that doesn’t make you any less worthy of
love, does it?”
She blinked. Love? Was he serious?
“You’ve made your point, Jeremiel,” Haniel said, running fingers
down her back.
She shivered, abruptly remembering that she wore only a bra and
panties.
Haniel pressed his palm against her spine and she trembled. He was
so hot… She licked her lips again. Jeremiel’s eyes dilated and he swooped in,
kissing her. Haniel held her as she bowed back, then his clever fingers
unhooked her bra. She twisted, grabbing the fabric and flinging it away.
Jeremiel moved down, laving her nipples. She groaned, so aroused she couldn’t
think, and he nipped at her. Sparks ran through her skin and she writhed,
already close to orgasm. God, how is this possible? she wondered brokenly,
clinging to Haniel’s shoulders.
Jeremiel slipped away and undid his shorts. With one swift move,
he shoved them down. His cock stood straight out, thick and flushed. She
swallowed, wanting to taste him, but then Haniel shifted and hooked his fingers
into her panties.
“Can I take these off?” he asked, tugging at the lace.
She nodded, lifting her hips. When she was finally nude, a hint of
worry shot
his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he stumbled, almost going
down, but Haniel held him up. Her towel fluttered to the floor. She didn’t
care.
“God, hurry,” Haniel said, forging ahead. He pulled off his shirt,
baring his shoulders and back. His torso rippled with muscle and more.
Charmeine stared. His back had the legacy marks of an angel. She’d only seen them
in a book.
“What are you?” she whispered.
He turned catching her eyes. His shoulders and left arm bore the
marks of an angel, too. She gasped.
“I’m broken,” he ground out. His face had twisted into anger, so
she struggled to get down, wanting to smooth all of his pain away.
Instead of letting her go, Jeremiel moved closer, tumbling her on
the bed as he grabbed Haniel’s arm.
“Stop it. There’s nothing broken about you,” he muttered, kissing
the unmarked skin of his friend’s right forearm gently.
Charmeine watched them, then moved in, too, as some dormant
instinct told her to touch them both. The moment she put her hands on them,
heat flared. She sucked in a breath and kissed Haniel on the mouth. He opened
to her, like a man drowning. Jeremiel stripped off his shirt and climbed on the
bed, arms around them both. She kissed Haniel as if it were the last time, or
possibly the first. Nothing made sense except the taste of him on her lips.
When Jeremiel leaned against her shoulder, she turned to him, seeking his
warmth. He kissed her, and then leaned back.
Charmeine put a fist against her chest to try and still the
frantic beating of her heart. He was lean and muscled and undeniably gorgeous.
His blue eyes crackled with heat. Looking at him, she couldn’t deny it anymore.
He was an angel, born and bred. His legacy marks swirled up his arms and over
his shoulders like ink on water. He let her look her fill, then nodded.
“Yes. I’m an angel,” he said quietly. He ran a finger up his arm,
then drew it down hers. She shivered. “So is Haniel.”
She turned to stare at him. His blonde hair slid across his
forehead as he looked away. “Not anymore, I’m not,” he said bitterly.
Jeremiel growled. “That is a lie. You are just as much an angel
now, as you were two years ago.”
“I can’t fly,” Haniel told Charmeine, as though she would care.
She didn’t. She was trying to internalize what they’d just said without making
a total fool of herself. A prick of awe ran through her, but she stifled it.
They were people before they were angels. And they were struggling through
something profound right in front of her. She licked her lips, working her way into
an underlying tragedy she didn’t quite understand. “I can’t fly either.”
Haniel went perfectly still. Jeremiel glanced at him, then took
her hands in his. “No, you can’t. And that doesn’t make you any less worthy of
love, does it?”
She blinked. Love? Was he serious?
“You’ve made your point, Jeremiel,” Haniel said, running fingers
down her back.
She shivered, abruptly remembering that she wore only a bra and
panties.
Haniel pressed his palm against her spine and she trembled. He was
so hot… She licked her lips again. Jeremiel’s eyes dilated and he swooped in,
kissing her. Haniel held her as she bowed back, then his clever fingers
unhooked her bra. She twisted, grabbing the fabric and flinging it away.
Jeremiel moved down, laving her nipples. She groaned, so aroused she couldn’t
think, and he nipped at her. Sparks ran through her skin and she writhed,
already close to orgasm. God, how is this possible? she wondered brokenly,
clinging to Haniel’s shoulders.
Jeremiel slipped away and undid his shorts. With one swift move,
he shoved them down. His cock stood straight out, thick and flushed. She
swallowed, wanting to taste him, but then Haniel shifted and hooked his fingers
into her panties.
“Can I take these off?” he asked, tugging at the lace.
She nodded, lifting her hips. When she was finally nude, a hint of
worry shot
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