Thea Harrison - Oracle's Moon

She reached up to touch those amazing laugh lines. He shuddered and closed his eyes, turning his face into her palm.

“Promise,” she said. “Khalil, you have the ability to fall into flesh, but a goddess in a dream told me I can leave my body again if I want to badly enough.”

His eyes flared open. He stared at her, tension in every line of his massive body. He put his hand around her throat, his thumb caressing the line of her jaw. “‘What will a mortal do with an immortal Power?’” he breathed.

She lifted her shoulder and said awkwardly, “Well, it was just a dream. I don’t know if it could really happen. We need to take time to experiment with all of this. All I know is I don’t want to try to become something different from the kids while they’re growing up, because they’re never going to be able to change, and they deserve the best human life I can give them.”

“They deserve you alive,” Khalil said. “Gods—if you could change, you would be stronger, harder to kill.” He swallowed hard. “You’re all so fragile.”

“That’s part of what being human is,” she said. “We’re pretty damn tough, too. Besides…” She smiled. “I’m perfectly safe, remember? I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“Please always stay mine,” he whispered.

“Always.”

She stroked her hand down his back, and he arched and shuddered. He reached behind him, bicep flexing, and grasped his T-shirt to pull it over his head.

Oh, my God, he had a sprinkle of dark hair on his chest. She ran her palm over it. It was as silken as it looked. He stared at her in naked surprise, and there was the hunger again, washing over her in a sheet of flame.

“Take everything off,” she hissed.

He arched away from her to tear off his jeans. She had meant to do the same; she really had. But the sight of Khalil’s nude body as he flexed free of his clothing tore almost every coherent thought out of her mind.

Except two. The same—different—the same—they were like two sides of a coin flipping in midair. She saw her lover in every line of Khalil’s body, but the newness of his more humanlike form made him almost a stranger. Silken black hair arrowed down his long stomach to his genitals and sprinkled long, muscle-corded thighs. His testicles had drawn up tight under a taut, large erection. She stared at the broad mushroom head and thick length of his beautiful penis.

He turned to her and growled in frustration. “You were supposed to take your clothes off too.”

She gave him a stricken look and whimpered, “I forgot.”

Laughter and affection creased his lean face before his expression turned sensual and wicked. “Do not trouble yourself in the slightest,” he murmured. “I will help you.”

He stretched his long body beside her and eased the buttons of her shirt open one by one. She could not stop staring at him everywhere. That cock. She took hold of the warm, hard length in both greedy hands.

A sound broke out of him, a short, sharp cry of shock, and he bowed over her hands almost as if she punched him. Worried, she started to draw back. He grabbed her wrists. “No!” he gritted. “That wasn’t bad. That was because it’s so damned good. ”

She flexed her hands along the soft skin that covered his distended flesh. The pleasure of it shuddered through his entire body, and she wanted him so badly she could barely breathe.

Love you.

She gave into the feeling, gave into him. She arched her back and wiggled haphazardly down the bed, until she reached his waist. Then she rolled toward him and pulled the thick tip of his penis into her mouth. A groan wrenched out of him. Every line of his body, everything she could sense of his presence, roared astonishment. His erection jerked in her mouth. She closed her eyes and felt his hands fist in her hair as she sucked him in.

Love you like crazy.

He pushed his hips, growling as she worked him. She lost herself in his touch, in his taste and rhythm. The sheer physical pleasure of him was blinding.

When he jerked his cock out her mouth, she blinked up at him. His expression was a crisis of need. “Not that way,” he muttered. “Not this time.”

He hauled her up the bed, she lunged up to a sitting position and together they tore off her clothes until she was as naked as he was. He cupped a hand at the back of her neck, and as he eased her back down, he rose to cover her body.

She spread her legs, and he helped her, so careful with her knee despite how he shook, that she fell in love with him all over again. She was so drenched with desire, he barely had to stroke her before her moisture covered his fingers. He looked at her in mute question, and she nodded. “Get the hell in here,” she breathed.

He pushed at her entrance. As he stretched and filled her, his body trembled all over. She held him fiercely, protectively, because no matter how Powerful he might be and as strange as it was, this was his very first time.

Human skin to human skin.

Then he was in her, to the root, and their bodies were aligned. His eyes filled as he stared down at her. There could not be more wonder in his face.

“Grace,” he said, and he always said it that way, as if it was not just her name but the most tender and vibrant of stories. He held his big body frozen over her, as if he didn’t know what to do next.

“Now kiss me,” she whispered.

Leaning his weight on one elbow, he cupped her breast as he brought his face down to hers. His lips closed over hers, and he bowed his shoulders over her with as much reverence as if he knelt to pray in a cathedral, and she never felt more beautiful than she did in that moment as he lost control completely and climaxed into her.

She thought that was it, and it was more than enough, but he surprised her as he always did, for as he climaxed, he ground himself into her, hit her pleasure center just right, and that brought her over the edge with him.

Always loving, always falling.

Like crazy.

The full weight of his body slumped on her in the utter surrender of exhaustion. She spun away into a gentle darkness, for there was no urgency, nowhere she needed to be and nothing they needed to, and it was the most extravagant luxury imaginable.

At some point, he must have stirred and shifted his weight away, but she only woke up when he pulled her with him. She made a sleepy sound as he guided her head onto his shoulder and wrapped his arms tight around her, then she fell back into drifting.

A strange ringing filled the bedroom. Sleepy and confused, Grace rolled onto her back and lifted her head to look for the noise. Her new cell phone danced along the bedside table on Khalil’s side of the bed.

Khalil growled, slapped his hand over the phone, flipped it open and snapped, “Speak. Then hang up.”

She covered her eyes. No, he was not friendly at all. She whispered, “You could have let it roll over to voice mail.”

He scowled at her and mouthed, “Didn’t think of it.”

She laughed as he listened. His eyebrows rose. “Hello, Cuelebre. No, you can’t talk to her. She’s busy. What do you want?”

Grace’s eyes widened. So much for her moratorium on unpredictable events. She reached for the phone, but Khalil held it away from her. She leaned over his body and made another grab for the phone. Khalil captured her hand, kissed it and held it against his chest.

That brought Grace close enough to hear the strong, deep voice on the other end. The Lord of the Wyr said, “My mate and I are planning another trip to Louisville,” Cuelebre said. “We would like to consult with the Oracle.”

Khalil pulled the receiver away to look at it in surprise. Then he held it back to his ear. “I thought you don’t consult with Oracles.”