31. Angel

31

ANGEL

" E van?" Her voice is music.

And that name. I can finally hear it. Is that who I am?

The way she moves takes my breath away.

It makes me want to move with her.

Swaying to sounds I heard on the journey here. Songs that I know I must have heard a hundred times or more in another life.

When I spotted her leaving Sanctum Harbor, I knew I had to follow.

To protect her.

To find answers to my past.

But then I found myself outside an old apartment building that she entered a few hours ago, and I had no clue what to do. Especially with that deadly looking guard outside the door.

Until she emerged and he went inside.

And I just stood there, out in the open.

Her eyes are wide, filled with… concern?

"Who are you?" I ask, the words tumbling from my lips.

"I'm your… we are… I mean, we were?—"

"Why do you haunt my dreams? My every waking minute?"

"Because we are in love . We're together. I know you can't remember?—"

"I want to."

"I know." Her words are insistent. Passionate.

She's close now, standing a few feet away, and the scent of her hair wafts into my nostrils, filling my senses. The effect is…

Overwhelming. Arousing.

Something dislodges in my memories, seeping through the wall.

"H–Hellena?" I whisper, my eyes closed, savoring that delicate scent, a hint of cinnamon, a flicker of memories. Her skin. Her lips.

"Yes, yes. I'm here," she breathes into my ear, taking me in her arms.

I shouldn't let her get so close. I'm dangerous.

And I must have said those words out loud.

"I don't care. I've known exactly who you are since the day I met you in your office, Evan DeSante. And I want you now like I wanted you then."

"I can't remember… "

"Then let me show you." Her lips graze along my jaw, kissing along my cheek, brushing against my lips.

The sensation is more than I can bear. It's beyond my wildest dreams.

When we kiss, my head explodes in lights, a shower of sparks behind my eyes.

I never want this to end.

Pulling her into a tight embrace, I explore her body, the soft curves swelling a sensation in my chest that I've only felt in dreams, but never in real life.

The clothes in the way distract me for a moment. I need them gone.

Fingers fumble with the buttons on her shirt.

"Wait." She laughs softly, grasping my hands. "Come inside. Stay with me…"

An ache that can't be sated, linked with a satisfaction that fulfills every bit of who I am.

At that request, I melt, following along behind her, the softness of her hand in mine, through the door on the bottom floor.

She's in my arms again the second the door clicks shut behind us.

My lips graze across her exposed neck, tracing the lines of her down into the crook and sampling the taste of her skin. Under my fingertips, her skin is so warm, smooth, tantalizing.

Every voluptuous curve of her figure conforms to my body.

Flooding my chest with emotions I don't know what to do with.

The swelling desire consumes me.

"Evan," she hums, gasping at the other part of me swelling to her presence.

"Hell…" I beg her, helping her drag my T-shirt over my head.

Our lips collide, tongues intertwining.

Each new sensory experience is popping in my mind, rippling through my nerves.

Tingles. Chills.

An aura that soaks through every fiber of my being.

Elation. Pure joy.

Her shirt follows, showing me a hint of those magnificent orbs, spilling over the top of the lace and silk. Then it's gone, and I can barely breathe.

That's what people mean by breathtaking.

And then I know, somehow I know I've been with her this way, seen her before. Except this feels like the first time. So new. Utterly scintillating.

Our kissing resumes, the taste of her tongue branding the inside of my mouth. So I push back, seeking the taste of her lips, sucking, biting in response as she bites me, a smile playing across her face.

"Yes… just like that, Ev."

Fuck me, I'm so done. I was done the minute I saw her.

The buttons on her pants pop, then mine, the zipper snapping down. Every movement is economic, quick. I need to touch her, to feel her thick curves in my hands.

The thin strap of soft blue material that barely covers her now seems almost silly.

Yet the fact that I can't see everything yet riles something in me.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I gasp, swooping in again, lifting her onto the table, dragging my shorts down, tugging at her panties.

"Evan… take me," she moans. And I cannot refuse her. To hear those words from her mouth in real life…

I know I should wait. I should take my time and be gentle.

She stops me with a thumb and finger on my jaw, tilting my chin up to look at her. She's going to tell me to slow down, to stop.

"Evan. Don't hold back. Do whatever you need to do. I'm yours."

My eyes widen at the permission.

And I'm through.

Her fingers encircle my painfully hard cock, gripping just tight enough, working along my length. The tickle of her touch on that smooth, delicate skin erupts through me in waves of excitement.

Even more so when she lines me up with her center, spreading her legs wide.

And I see the full scope of her stunning beauty.

The soft lines waving down her body, the curve of her belly and hips. Thighs that demand my fingers squeeze them, the delicious excess spilling through my fingers.

Then the world is bathed in plush, velvet warmth.

I can only feel the inner walls of her sacred entrance.

Where I belong. Where I am complete.

Her hips tilt once on the table, angling forward and taking me fully into her depths.

Pulling me like a sweet undertow into her heaven. Nothing will ever compare to the rapture of her embrace.

I feel myself falling, and all I can do is let go, passion boiling over as I thrust into her again and again.

Hellena

Evan's dark eyes never leave mine as he drives himself home. It's exploratory, just like his kisses. Like he's never experienced any of it before.

Yet his hands find those places all over me that he always loved, that I always love him touching.

His fingers drag under the curve of my ass, down my thighs as he plunges into me again, caressing right behind my knees.

Shudders of delight roll through me like heat waves.

That familiar and scrumptious warmth that only he makes me feel.

Even without his memories, or only some of them, he's fire.

The sun at the center of my universe.

Filling me with need and burning desire.

My heels hook around him, dragging him into me over and over.

Taking precious sweet time to slide out, powerfully hammering into my core again.

My hands sweep up the black lines, those accentuating lines of his tattoos, raising pebbled skin in their wake.

All across his chest and shoulders.

Up around his honed shoulders, around his defined collarbones and the sweeping lines of his neck.

Threading together behind him, tickling his soft, uncut hairline.

It's shaggier than I've ever seen him, less put together than he would ever allow.

And something about it is wild. Untamed.

Like he used to be, long before I met him. That beast of a lion inside him that he only ever let out on stage or in practice with me.

I clench my fist tighter in those locks, tugging at his hair as my pleasure intensifies.

In response, he bares his teeth at me, moaning softly and thrusting a bit harder. He's still controlled, both of us savoring the intricate sensations of every inch of his shaft slipping into me, slippery and silk smooth.

At the bottom of the stoke, I flex, indulging in that fullness, stretched to my limit in every way, hugging him like a glove. He senses my pull, bucking his hips upward, grinding into the mound of arousal within me, amping up the temperature and my exponential enjoyment.

But I've missed him for so long.

And I need more of him.

All of him.

What I have longed to feel for weeks. Missing him. Fearing for him. And before that, grieving over him.

"Evan…" I sing, thumping to the rhythm of our exertions, "I need you to let go."

His eyes widen.

"I need you to fuck me. I need you to love me with everything you have."

Slamming my palms back on the round table, I lift both of my legs up from around his back, his hands guiding them into position over his shoulders. His arms hook around them, locking me into place as he begins to speed up our slick-soaked, slapping beat.

"Fuck me," I beg, my ass jiggling as he pounds harder.

"Yes!" he growls, his expression morphing into ecstatic abandon.

"Fuck me, Evan, I want you!" I cry out, my head tipping back as his body remembers, one hand slipping down to pin me to the spot, plowing into me with wild insistence, filling me with blazing heat and unchained passion.

"Evan! Remember…" I scream.

And he tips his head back, a deep, powerful moan rising into a shout of sheer, raw ecstasy tearing from his throat. "Hell!"

"Yes! Harder!" I'm whimpering, my arms giving out with the overwhelming pulses of bliss surging through me. Dropping onto my back, all I can to is hold onto the edge of the table as he comes undone, barreling toward a monumental release as I roar toward the edge of oblivion. The only thing I can feel is his unyielding cock, pumping life and lust into me, taking me away from fear and worry, blasting away every horrible thing that's happened to us.

Because this is my love, Evan.

He's here. With me now.

We're joined, and nothing can tear us apart.

Uncontrollable quakes rocket up my hamstrings, out through my toes.

Then another wave, buffeting my ecstasy-addled mind with more pleasure than I can handle.

Because I thought I would never see him again.

Because I love him more than I can bear.

"Hellena!" He falls over me, burying his cry in my chest, then my lips, silencing my own rumbling whine, sounds I can't keep into the unwinding, untethering climax roaring through me.

When the hurricane subsides, he's shaking.

I can barely move.

And I could stay like this forever.

But he tenses, pulling away.

"Evan?" I slide off the table, our sex spilling down my legs, a beautiful disaster.

He bites his lip, stumbling away, his eyes looking a bit wild.

"I…"

"It's okay. You're safe."

But he's slipping away. Blinking rapidly. He scoops up his clothes suddenly.

And before I can say another word, he's bolting for the door, out into the night.

I chase him, covering myself with a sheet, calling after him.

But he's gone.