1606010611-When-a-Good-Angel-Falls-Kougar.doc (21 page)

“Chicken stew,” he proudly spoke and sat down cross-legged with his own bowl.

Sedona sniffed, tasted a spoonful. “Yummy,” she murmured. “Hits the spot. Manna chicken stew?” She watched the pup curl up, then lay down near her feet as if he knew he’d had his share.

“Straight from the heavenly vault.” Volcano ate voraciously.

“A man of strong appetites,” she muttered later, teased, then fed her own healthy appetite. “Or is it that you’re just a hard-working cherub?”

Having polished off his bowl, Volcano dipped out another portion. “A man with a strong carnal appetite. What you want, Sedona. Remember?”

It had been so long ago since she’d thought about it, it didn’t strike her until several instants later what he meant. She blushed furiously, lowered her empty bowl. He reached for it, filled it again. “Thanks. Are you saying you’re carnal cherub enough to keep my sexual passions satiated, if I fell in love with you? Unlike the previous men I’ve known? Goddess, that seems like an age ago, at least. Where does the time fly when you’re not having fun?” she mocked herself.

He grinned, lazy and seductive. “Want to take me for a test run?”

“Problem. A test run isn’t an endurance race, is it? And then I’m merely left with massive disappointment, not to mention aching sexual parts. And a huge ole’ aching heart.” She stabbed her spoon at him, then quickly stuck it back in the stew.

“Endurance race me, babe.”

Sedona blinked widely, stared briefly. He was so sexually compelling. “By the time I find out it will be too late,” she delicately spoke, then continued eating slowly. “Cornbread. That’s what we need. If we had an oven.”

“Your hard-working cherub can’t manifest an oven here. Not allowed, babe.” Volcano ran his gaze over her adorable feet, and wanted. He dipped out a third helping.

“Understood. Back in the pioneer days they used to make it over the fire, but I doubt I could manage that without a recipe. I should learn to cook over a fire, just for the sake of survival,” she mused. “I wasn’t planning on surviving actually.”

“A mere kiss upon your cherub’s lips, I can create your cornbread, manna style,” he dreamy seduced, smiled disarmingly. He wiggled his toes for the pup, who chewed, played gently with him.

“With butter?” She arched a brow, tickled the pup’s belly with her toes.

“Hot buttered nipples,” he murmured as if he merely discussed food options.

Sedona halted, flared wild. “Do cherubs ever forget anything?” she murmured. “Or do I have give up popcorn and butter?”

“Proof I’ll remember what ‘turns you on’,” he dark-sizzled through her, his woman.

“No challenge now, cherub,” she very softly spoke. “But a woman never forgets. Certainly not this woman.”

“Cornbread,” he baited, smiled as if the sun broke thought the clouds, a rare site these days.

“There’d better be butter,” she cranky warned.

“A kiss. Take a risk,” he invited, his joy shining through, his sexiness irresistible.

She assessed him a moment. “A kissing test run, you naughty cherub,” she muttered, and set her bowl out of the pup’s reach from habit.

“Think it, kiss it,” he spoke as she crawled close to him.

“I’m turning into a dog,” she complained.

“I’ll hand-feed you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you!” she accused, and frowned. “Train me to your carnal whim. You’ve already got me coming to you, begging for cornbread treats.”

“Kiss me, think cornbread,” he sexy murmured, his purple eyes twinkling into hers.

Sedona remembered her favorite cornbread, then kissed him. She kissed his texture-delicious lips, and kept kissing him, letting her lips cling to his. “Does that do it?” she finally whispered, breathless, opening her eyes.

“Almost. You’ll have to shut your eyes again. Cherub magic. No fair peeking.”

“What a woman will do for cornbread and butter,” she sourly muttered about herself, but closed her eyes. She felt him rise, so she lay on the blanket bedding. The pup grabbed her big toe with tiny needle teeth, crunched. “Ow!” She sat up quickly, her eyes shooting open. “Bad Baby. No!”

Volcano swooped up the pup, chuckling. “No,” he spoke sternly, gave him a little mama dog shake, then set him back down. Looking chagrined, but not chastised, the pup lay down like an Anubis statue, and watched them.

“Playing, no biting too hard,” Sedona added, gave him the ‘no nonsense’ look. The pup cocked his head slightly, brought his paw up over his ear, then over his face, too entirely adorable. “Talk about no fair. Both of you are way too cute. I’m out numbered.” She sighed, touched under the pup’s chin gently, and stroked. “Something Egyptian, for his name. He looks like Anubis.”

“Cornbread, butter, babe.” Volcano handed the rustic bowl down to her, then lowered himself beside her with his own helping.

“Smells delicious.” Sedona sampled. “Mmmm, Good.” Content, she nibbled.

“But not quite oven quality,” Volcano good-natured added. He tasted, then gobbled down his portion.

“True. But an outstanding effort. You could blame it on my kiss.”

“Blame it on my lack of cornbread experience. Never tasted it before.”

“You’ve been terribly deprived. Poor little cherub,” she teased, then offered the pup an itsy taste. He sniffed, then ate it quickly.

“I’ll get you any oven you want.”

“So thoughtful, but to be honest, I’m pretty good at baking, but no Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart, so you wouldn’t get the same quality every time. Besides, there’s all sorts of different kinds. It would depend on what mood I’m in. The Moody Cook, a new reality tv show for the dumbed-down populace. Then cancelled when my traitorous roots are exposed. Now that’s not root vegetables, proud residents of the New World Order.”

“Sedona.” She looked at him, his tone serious.

“You could burn everything. I don’t care.”

His purple eyes gleamed so silver-bold intensely she swallowed.

“That’s what they all say,” she murmured very softly. “At first. You know how it goes, at first,” she continued, feeling as fragile as ribbon caught in whipping wind. “Of course, you can manna manifest your dinner.” she lamely offered, and gulped. When he didn’t speak, just gazed at her as if he decided how to passion devour her, she didn’t shut up. “What are you going to do? Spank me? Not in front of the puppy.”

“Not in front of the puppy.” He reached out, letting strands of her hair slip through his fingers.

“It could traumatize him.” Wild, uncertain, she waited. He was a dangerous cherub when he wanted to be. Very carnal dangerous.

“Bold and ethereal,” he praised. “Bold as a firestorm, ethereal as dew on my fingertip. What do I do, Sedona? What do I do with you, right now?”

His whisper was thunder through her, as
his fingers sensually threaded through strands of her hair.

“Perhaps,” she dared on short breaths, “you should consider me too damaged.”

“Too damaged by life on Earth?” he voice-caressed, yet spoke seriously. “Too damaged by Earth men?”

“Just too damaged,” she rushed the whisper. “Damage I haven’t been able to overcome.”

“Do you know why angels who incarnate to Earth don’t stay long?”

His soft tone lasered through her.

“Who can stand it?” she promptly answered, then paused. “With no mountaintop spiritual overview, it’s, it’s too much.”

“Too much, and too little.” His voice caressed over her, over her flesh, gentle, intense, excruciating. “Too little love.”

“Too little divine love, that can be felt.”

“Yes, felt. The Source not felt.”

“Divine love isn’t necessarily carnal love,” she protested, yet his nearness was driving her passion-insane. She wanted to crawl out of her skin. Or crawl on him, and lust attack him. Sinfully, wonderfully, for a long time.

“Sometimes it is,” he whispered.

His breath was so warm on her neck, his lips were so close, she wished he would just kiss her. At the same time, she knew to her soul she was too damaged. She knew only miracles could save her. Save her from herself. Big fat magnificent miracles.

“By God, now would be a good time for that lightning bolt to strike. Strike me in half. That’s how I feel.”

“Sedona, open your robe. Lay back.”

It was a command softly spoken. She tingled coldly, with wild fear. She tingled hotly, with wild desire. Eventually she yielded to the pure potent force of him. Parting her robe, Sedona laid back. Her heart thumped rapidly. She screamed within.

Volcano tossed his robe aside and gazed down at his angel woman. She lay before him, almost like a sacrifice. A beautiful flesh sacrifice, so lush-curve beautiful he blazed lightning for her. He kissed her cheek. He pressed a slow deliberate kiss to her forehead. He touched his lips to the tip of her upturned nose. He tasted the sumptuous tenderness of her lips.

Her sigh of breath passed between his lips. He savored, and drank in her angel essence. Cosmic black flame, his need for her, his desire for her. Beyond any other woman. But she was beyond any woman for him. He kissed her chin, gentle as a dove’s feather. He placed kisses down her throat,
kisses that relished the feel of her beneath his lips. Slowly, deliberately, he lavished kisses on her shoulders, on her breastbone. He listened to, and felt her tiny wisps of ecstatic breath.

Tenderly he kissed her breast, the divine delectable curve of her breast. He covered her breasts with kisses, hungry ravishing kisses. He listened to the tiny flow of her rapture tears, to her tears of heartbreak. Together, her tears created the crystalline elixir of her soul.
His angel woman.

Volcano brushed kisses downward, over her gorgeous round belly, all woman, her belly, her hips, goddess woman. Adoringly he kissed her flanks. He kissed her thigh, his carnal reverence. He kissed the dangerously beautiful curves of her thighs in full praise that she was not fashion-skinny.

Volcano had lusting wicked plans for his woman’s thighs. He kissed her dimpled knees extravagantly. He kissed down her shins, kissed the sexy, sexy curves of her calves. He kissed over her dainty ankles. He kissed the adorable shape of her foot, one after another, especially her sweetly curved arches.

Sedona shivered, blissfully shivered with his kisses, his unbelievable unimaginable kisses. On her. She squeezed her eyelids tightly, let the tears run. Let herself surrender. Made herself surrender, and feel the exquisite, nearly intolerable pleasure.

Volcano pressed his lips between her thighs, startling his woman. She gasped, whimpered sharply, a surprised protest. But she didn’t fight him. She didn’t deny him. He pressed his lips against her beautiful sex bud, kissed. Kissed deliberately. He spread her thighs gently, just a bit. He kissed her, pressed harder until tiny pleasure moans escaped her.

The force of his lips on her, constant, delicious, so hedonistic to her senses, Sedona became wildfire and breathless fire inside. “Volcano,” she whispered. Ecstasy bloomed, winging through her. She surrendered, lifted to him, up to his lips. Her ecstasy blazed upwards, nearly agony.

She fiercely softly moaned, then rolled toward him as he gathered her against him. “Quietly,” he commanded. Volcano parted her thighs, thrust deep. He filled her so forcefully, so beautifully, she simply obeyed his hands, his body and allowed him to hold her close, keep her still.

“Just let it happen,” he murmured against her lips. Volcano stroked down to his angel woman’s voluptuous satin bottom. He gripped his woman, possessed her, holding her tight against his loins. She was divine goddess against him, pure heavenly curves against him. He soared on his spirit wings, as his cock held her. He flew, winged-fierce with her.
Just her.
With just her silken sheath
tightly embracing him.

“God,” she breathed onto his mouth. The brush of his lips against hers was sensuous heaven. “Goddess.” Her breath poured against his lips. Potent inside her, potent against her, boldly potent. “Help,” she whispered her extreme ephemeral rapture.

Volcano silently blazed to omniscient black, fell into the abyss of absolute rapture. The feel of his woman against him, falling with him. The feel of her silken fire clenching him, carnal holding him in purest rapture.

As it should be. On Earth as in the eternal Heaven.

Sedona felt the cosmos surround her, sprinkle her with orbiting stars, then hold her within a bliss she’d only known by spiritual practice. She flowed, and knew she flowed with him, flowed along the continuous orgasmic stream of the universe.

She flowed, then descended on gentle cherubim wings.

She knew she had to return. Sometime. They had to return.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, kissed her forehead.

Sedona shivered, almost violently.
She knew from the unbearable pleasure, both her flesh and her emotions overwhelmed. “Your brute is too big,” she mock-complained, snuggled her cheek against his chest. His hand caressed her hair with a sweetness she’d never known.

Volcano chuckled softly. “Is that the sum of your complaint, milady?”

“It is,” she whispered, a pretend frown in her voice. “Who’s taking Baby out? I hear little scratches near the door.”