Gabriel

Reagan giggles as I lean over her. I pull her dress over her head and toss it on top of my clothes. I lift her off the toilet and carry her like a child into the shower cabin. Her arms and thighs encircle me. Her naked trembling body is so deliciously plastered to mine. Her smell makes me feel like I’m a mad man. With my arm supporting her back, I turn on the hot water with my other hand. Reagan shudders as the water starts steaming down.

I draw her closer to me, her breasts pressed against my chest. I’m hyperaware of her hard nipples, and goose bumps spread across her skin.

“Reagan, where have you been, baby?”

“In the forest, Gabriel.” It comes out in a breathy whisper.

Only Reagan can say my name like this. I want her to moan my name. No, I want her to scream my name when she’s cumming on my cock.

“Do you live in the forest?” I ask.

“You like the forest. You like it very very much.”

“I do.” I grab the back of her head and tip her face up to mine. Tiny droplets adorn her eyelashes like diamonds as moisture forms thin glittery streams on her temples. “We’re the same, baby girl.”

Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she braces my waist tighter with her thighs. Her mound is unshaven, but her legs are as smooth as silk. Her thighs are slim and firm. Perfect. And her feet? As sweet as her little hands. Dirty as hell.

“You like autumn paint the leaves in the forest in all shades of red and yellow,” she hums. She pats my nose with her fingers and giggles. “And the relief after the rain near the big river.”

“Yeah, the rainforest is awesome. The colours are so glittery and rich after the rain has fallen.” I support her with one arm and massage her foot to wash the dirt off with my other hand.

She pats my chin with her fingers and trails a line up my cheek and then across my eye to my forehead like she is memorising my face.

“Where do you live, Reagan?”

“Everywhere. Under the bush. Under the fallen tree.”

“What do you mean? Tell me.”

She tries to pull away from me, so I tighten my embrace around her. I have no fucking idea of who or what she is, but I know she’s as innocent as a fawn. Maybe she’s some kind of forest spirit. I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen any. The truth is that I’ve never paid attention. They’re something between ghost and element. This could explain Reagan’s strange behaviour.

“Reagan, that’s okay. We don’t have to talk.”

Her skin has a delicate pink tinge from the heat of the water. The steam creates a hot reality around us.

I turn off the water and walk out of the shower cabin. Reagan’s arms encircle my neck, and she hums a weird song without words into my ear. It’s like the wind is blowing and the leaves are rustling. I grab a towel and throw it over her back and then carry her over to the room to put her on the bed.

“Are you hungry?” I ask as I massage her back with the towel.

She shakes her head, sitting on her heels, and roams her eyes over the room. I sit opposite her.

“Maybe you want something to drink?” I say.

She shakes her head. I dry her hair and tear the towel off her. She raises her hands and cups my face. Her lips curl into a smile.

Her finger trails a line down my forehead and then along the bridge of my nose. She touches my lips, and I bite down on her fingertip. She giggles, her eyes gleaming with childish curiosity.

I raise my hand and rub my thumb against her lower lip. It’s so fucking plump. Pink like raspberries. I run my forefinger down her neck and then along her collarbone. She giggles and rubs her forehead against my chin. I circle her nipple with my thumb, and it hardens. My eyes are trained on her breast, and I see goose bumps pop up all over her skin. I stroke her erect nipple and roll it.

“Reagan,” I rasp. My eyes meet hers, and I see how confused she is. “We’ll have a nap, and then I’ll take you to the clubhouse, okay?”

I fold the comforter and pull her into my arms, covering us both. We lie down on our sides. Her back rests against my chest. Her scent coats me and diffuses into me. She smells of jasmine blossoms. I like jasmines. I’ve always liked them. She smells of the forest. She smells like love and home. Like my every desire.

I could take her to the clubhouse now, but I can’t resist holding her in my arms like this. My sense of duty has evaporated as though I’ve never been a member of the club, and only Reagan matters to me. Helping humanity is not on my list of interests any longer. Following my president’s orders is not on my list of interests. Reagan is my priority—now and tomorrow. Forever.

“I love you, Reagan, you know. Love you so damn very much.”

She giggles, covers her face with her hands and rubs her ass against my hips. My hard dick wants to explode. The bastard screams to fuck. Fuck that cute little thing. Fuck her raw. She isn’t aware of what she’s doing to me—I’m insane. Mad about this childish, primal being that must have fallen from the skies to make me feel happy. There’s no other explanation.

Yes, I’m happy now. I’ve felt fulfilled in life, but I’ve never been happy. I didn’t need this emotion until now.

Reagan wiggles against me, and it looks like she has no intention to sleep. That’s wonderful.

I turn her over on her back, and she lets out half-gulping, half-gasping sounds, her palms covering her eyes.

“Reagan, sweetheart, look at me.”

I ease my weight onto my elbow and take her hands off her face. She averts her eyes, her cheeks flushed. Her shiny lips part, and the images of my cock in her mouth flash through my head.

I run my finger down her temple and under her chin, turning her face to mine. “You’re only mine, right?”

I don’t know why I want to own her. I want to own every inch of her body and every particle of her soul.

Her eyes lock on mine—wild, primal. Curious. “Yours.” It sounds like a stream is murmuring in the woods.

“You know what two people do when they’re lying in bed, naked?” I ask.

She giggles and covers her face with her hands.

It seems like she knows everything she should know. My sense of rationality evaporates without a trace. I need Reagan so much. I want her more than anything.

I want to fuck her like an animal. Now.

“We could kiss, Reagan, and touch. You want me to touch you?”

She throws her arms around my neck and plants a wet kiss on my cheek.

“Yes, baby, just like this.” I pull her to me, rolling over so I lie on my back.

Reagan is sprawled on my chest, my cock throbbing against her inner thigh. I grip the back of her neck and bring her lips down to mine. She gasps into my mouth. My tongue slips in, and I kiss her slowly. Tenderly. Her mouth tastes like heaven—strawberries and cream sprinkled with that secrecy of hers. With that ethereal magic of hers. I don’t remember heaven, but this kiss is wonderful. This kiss is better than anything I’ve seen or experienced in life.

My blood pumps in my ears, and my dick demands to be inside her.

I tear my mouth off hers, her lips so beautifully swollen from our kiss. I tumble her over so she’s on her back and I lie on my side. Her breath ragged, she sinks her fingers into my hair. She enjoys combing through my hair. I love it.

I run my finger along her nose, across her parted lips, down her throat. I circle and twist her nipple, causing a gasp to leave her mouth.

“Did you allow anyone to touch you like this?” I rasp.

“No.”

“Only me?”

“Only you.”

I lower my head and touch her nipple with the tip of my tongue and then draw her breast fully into my mouth. I suck it gently.

“Only me, Reagan?”

“Only you.”

I fold her legs and spread her knees with my hand. My fingers slide down her tummy and she giggles. I spread her folds and rub my thumb against her clitoris.

“Only me?” I demand.

“Only you.”

She’s as virgin as was Earth when I saw it for the first time, and she’s only for me. I’ve never touched anything so innocent, so pure. She wakes a ravenous possessive monster inside me. I want to own her. Wreck her. Chain her to me and hide her only for myself. She’s mine to contaminate her and corrupt her.

I cover her sweet mouth with mine, crawling on top of her, and I massage her clitoris. I need to see her come for me. She moans and it’s the sweetest, sexiest female sound I’ve ever heard. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her breathing heavy. Her irises turn bright green. She pulls at my hair and digs her heels into my back, urging me to give her more. I can see the impatience on her face. Her body squirms beneath mine. I massage her clit harder, kissing and biting her neck. Her pussy is so wet for me. So hot. She cries out, arches her back and shatters in satisfaction. Her wide, hazy eyes seek mine.

“Only for me,” I say and it’s a warning.

“Only for you,” Reagan gasps.

I kiss her hard and then watch her swollen lips and pink cheeks. A gasp escapes her mouth. I hold my cock and stroke it up and down. I don’t need more—just glancing at her. My balls tighten and heat rushes to my toes. I moan her name as I spill my cum over her stomach. I stroke my cock until I wrench in my whole pleasure.

I steady my breath and rub my cum on her tummy and then rub a bit on her mouth. She smells of me. She should smell of me. She’s mine.

My head drops onto her chest, and I listen to her rapid heartbeat. It’s a little bird’s heartbeat. A thought crosses my head. I’m a bad man. I’m gonna wreck this little thing. I’m gonna put my baby into her womb. Yes, I want to be a father, and I want Reagan to be the mother of my children.

It’s so clear to me that I’m kind of stunned I’ve never thought about it before. Right, I didn’t have Reagan in my life. She made me aware of my needs or she made me have these needs.

I raise my head. “Reagan, sweetheart, how are you feeling?”

She raises her hand to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, but I grip her wrist.

“No,” I say. “Lick my cum off your lips with your sweet little tongue.”

She does as she’s told, and she beams at me.

“Good girl.” I run my finger along her slit and rub her juices on her lower lip. “Do you like kissing, Reagan?”

“I do.”

“Do you like touching?”

She shrugs, rolling her eyes.

I tickle her chest and she squirms, giggling and gasping. “Say you like it when I’m touching you,” I demand.

“You like it when you’re touching me.” Her voice sounds part serious part humorous. “You love it.” She rolls her eyes again.

I erupt into laughter at her cute attitude, and confusion paints her face. Her nostrils flare.

“Reagan,” I say. “I’m sorry. Everything’s fine, baby.” I bury my face into her neck and kiss my way up to her ear. The boys and I can’t behave. We rumble like a horde of old lions. I must be gentler with Reagan, quieter. “Let’s go home.”

“Where is home, Gabriel?”

It hits me hard that I’ve got only a bedroom in the clubhouse. I didn’t need more, not until I met Reagan. I should buy a house with a nice garden. Yep, a nice human house in the suburbs with a nice human car in front of the garage. A big family car with three seats for my kids. Images fill my head. Three prams scattered in the front garden. Toys. State-of-the-art kitchen appliances. Holidays. Schools. Yep, I want all the shit.

“We’ll live in the clubhouse until I find something better.” I kiss her tit. “Let’s get you dressed.”

I crawl off the bed and slip into my jeans. With my cut on, I lean over Reagan and pull my t-shirt on her and then I wrap her form in a blanket. I pull her into my arms and she clings to me like her life depends on it. My wings appear from my back as the white feathers rustle. Reagan grabs one and folds it, sticking it under her nose. It must tickle because she sneezes.

“You like my wings?” I ask.

I want her to love them as much as I want her to love my cock.

“They shimmer,” she says.

“A bit.”

“Like the water in the stream when the sun’s rising.”

“Where is the stream, Reagan?”

She pulls my wing and plasters a few feathers to her face. That probably means I should stop asking her questions.

“Hold on to me,” I say.

Reagan buries her face in my neck and desire seizes me like a real fire. I grip the back of her head and tip her face up to mine. My mouth covers her. I devour her. She gasps and moans so I devour her even more ravenously.

My wings flap and we appear inside the bar.

My eyes meet Raphael’s. I’ve never seen him so pissed off. I’ve never seen him pissed off at all.

“Everyone except the club members out,” he rumbles.

The nymphs disperse in all directions, and I see Uriel cleaning the memories away from two human females’ heads. They exit the bar like wild animals are chasing them.

Right. I just broke the rules again.

I tighten my embrace around Reagan as the boys surround me.

“You’ve been away for a month,” Michael says. “You’ve been untraceable.”

“A month?” I say.

Raphael moves closer. “A month.” His furious eyes slide over Reagan. “What is it?”

“My wife,” I say.

“Your the fuck what?” Raphael roars.

“My wife,” I repeat.

Reagan sobs into my neck so I stroke her head to calm her.

“You’re scaring her,” I rumble. “Back the fuck up, you motherfuckers.”

“What is she?” Michael asks.

“A forest spirit?” I say.

Michael shakes his head. “That’s impossible. They’re not corporeal entities. And she looks like—“

“Like my wife,” I snap. “Move the fuck away from her, you all. She’s scared of your fucking ugly unshaven gobs.” I pull forward.

Raphael obstructs my way. “She’s doing something to time and space. Can’t you feel it? Put her on the floor.”

“The fuck what?” I growl. “Fuck off. I’m taking her upstairs.”

Raphael raises his hand.

“Don’t fucking touch her, brother,” I warn.

I spin with her body plastered to mine, but the boys form a tight wall of bodies around me. Reagan cries quietly.

“We need to stabilise the shit she’s doing,” Raphael says sharply.

I spread my wings. “Back the fuck up.”

They don’t move, just start humming incantations. Energy whips me like a gust of wind. I can’t move, immobilised by the powers of my brothers. Yeah, they can do this—four against one is enough. Reagan sighs and digs her fingers into my neck. I growl as a wave of warmth washes over me, taking away something from me. Something that should be taken away.

Raphael scratches his head. “Done.” He nods. “Very fucking weird.”

I hide my wings. “I’ll fucking break all your limbs if you do something like that again.”

The boys guffaw, and I drop onto the sofa, holding Reagan in my lap. I cup her face with both my hands.

“They won’t hurt you,” I say. I kiss her tears away from her flushed face. “They just wanted to help.” I sweep my eyes over the boys. “Right, motherfuckers?”

“Right,” they rumble.

Reagan clings to me, her arms squeezing my neck.

“You idiots,” I growl. “She’s scared of you. Be quiet.”

Cael kneels on one knee a step away from me, his amber eyes curious. “She’s really pretty.”

“How old is she?” Uriel asks. He threads his fingers through his short hair the colour of a raven’s wings as his blue eyes gleam. “Fourteen?” He looks at me like I’m a perv.

“She’s old enough,” I say. “Eighteen if you need to know.”

“You fucking that…?” Michael asks and grins, “that…” He shakes his head.

I have the impression that he wanted to say ‘kid’.

“None of your fucking business,” I say.

Cael smirks. “He looks like some fucking Romeo.” He nods, clearly having fun at my expense. “You’ve seen your eyes, Gabriel?”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” I say.

The boys guffaw. No, they do rumble like a horde of old lions. An urge of murder courses through me.