Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dawn found Marisol and Zuri half asleep and standing in similar pairs of leggings and T-shirts. In the kitchen, Zuri downed a second shot of Cuban coffee and lamented the mountain of laundry she was going to have to do. But first, she was going to try another magic summoning session with a woman descended from fucking angels. Sure, she’d learned that in witch class.
“What does it feel like?” Marisol’s hazel eyes were dark in the weak light only starting to stream in through the window. “When she bites you.”
Zuri handed Marisol her empty cup and leaned against the counter. Speaking English, Spanish, and just enough Portuguese to cause trouble, Zuri had never been able to put into words what Elena’s bite did to her. Ecstasy was too small and rapture was too corny.
When Elena was drinking from her, it was like her entire body experienced the most intense orgasm ever recorded. But it wasn’t just her body. It was inside her mind. Her blood. Her bones. The way it bonded her to Elena was indescribable. It was why Elena could be such an insufferable pain in the dick.
“You’ll find out when you’re ready,” Zuri said while pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She was prepared to sweat her ass off in the greenhouse all morning doing the equivalent of learning an extinct language without any comparable analogs.
Marisol finished washing the two cups and turned to face her, back against the sink. “It looked… intense.”
Zuri felt the heat of Elena’s bite on her skin, but it was the memory of Marisol’s spectral wings that made her chest tingle. Despite having seen them before, Zuri had still been in awe. They were magnificent and beautiful and impossible to forget.
“Did it turn you on?” Zuri asked, a possibility swirling into shape.
Blushing from her neck to her forehead as if they hadn’t been having unbelievable sex for the last two days, Marisol shrugged.
“Oh come on, Bambi. No one who eats pussy like you do can possibly be that shy.” Zuri bit the inside of her cheek to temper her grin.
Pink turned to red as Marisol opened her mouth and closed it again. “Don’t say it like that,” she finally whispered, making it clear she meant don’t say it so loud .
Zuri chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Elena knows what that mouth can do, babe,” she whispered back. “Now, come on. It’s an academic question. Did you get hot watching Elena bite my very soft skin?” She wiggled her brows and waited for her answer.
Making an adorable expression Zuri guessed was supposed to be a cringe, Marisol ran her fingers through her loose, dark blonde hair. The ends grazed her shoulder before she answered with a nod.
“Good,” Zuri said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “We’re going to test a theory.” She pushed off the counter and crossed the small kitchen.
Marisol’s brow furrowed, hazel eyes widening with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. God, she really wore every emotion on her face. They were going to have to work on that once they had the whole Aglion thing nailed down.
“A theory?” Marisol’s voice trembled.
“Don’t overthink it, Bambi,” she murmured, her hand reaching out to trace the line of Marisol’s jaw. She didn’t want to want to touch her so much, but her fingertips ached for her like they hadn’t already had their fill. “I think,” Zuri continued, her voice as low and seductive as she could make it, “that if we can tap into that fire inside you… we can unlock your full potential.” She let her thumb drift to the corner of Marisol’s full bottom lip, tracing the delicate curve.
Mouth opening for her, hands finding Zuri’s hips, Marisol signaled her consent.
Pulse jumping, Zuri leaned closer, lips brushing against Marisol’s ear. “Let me show you what I mean.”
Hand slipping under the borrowed shirt, Zuri ran her palm over her ribcage. At the touch, Marisol held her breath. Could she still really be so nervous? More to the point, why was her strange combination of vixen and ingenue such a fucking turn on?
Focusing on the task, Zuri pressed her lips to her neck before she teased her even-more-sensitive-than-advertised nipple over her bra. In response, Marisol tossed her head back and sighed, thighs parting while she pulled Zuri in closer.
She trailed kisses down Marisol’s neck, her tongue tracing the delicate line of her collarbone, her teeth grazing the responsive skin beneath her ear. Marisol’s breath hitched, her body trembling with a need that mirrored Zuri’s own.
Come on, Bambi , Zuri thought, her focus sharpening, her magic thrumming beneath her skin. Show me what you can do .
She waited for the telltale shimmer, the faint hum of energy that signaled the emergence of Marisol’s wings. But there was nothing. Only the warmth of Marisol’s skin, the rapid beat of her pulse, the soft moans escaping her parted lips.
Damn it.
Zuri pulled away. With nothing but her big, hazel eyes, Marisol bled her worry that she’d done something wrong.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it happens to all quasi-angels out there.” Zuri tried to laugh, but her mind was already leaping ahead, considering the missing element in her experiment.
“What are you doing?” Marisol’s tone was serious despite the flush down her chest. “Don’t leave me out. Maybe I can help with whatever you’re thinking.”
After a deep breath, Zuri relented. “We already know your power comes out during heightened emotional moments. Fear, lust,” she explained. “I was trying to recreate that, but?—”
“I thought you said it was dangerous to tap into my emotions,” she said, like the student all too eager to correct the teacher.
Zuri raised both brows. “Yeah, well. We don’t have a lot of time, do we? We’ve got to work with what we have.”
Marisol nodded, looking guilty, as if somehow any of this was her fault.
“And I don’t mind finding the right combination.” Zuri hooked her finger into Marisol’s waistband and tugged her close again. She inhaled the scent of her hair and kissed a line from her jaw to her lips.
“Is it dangerous?” Marisol’s voice was soft and her breath warm against Zuri’s mouth. She wasn’t worried anymore, she was teasing.
Only for me.
“I’m going for more of a controlled burn than a wildfire.” She smirked before kissing her, hands tangling in her hair.
“I don’t think this is the way to do it,” Marisol whispered between soft, slow kisses.
Remembering her desire not to exclude Elena, Zuri started to pull away before an idea sprang to life. “It wasn’t just being turned on,” she said after breaking the kiss but remaining in her arms. “Elena’s bite triggered your need to heal me.” Her thoughts were racing faster than her mouth moved. “Maybe your thoughts being occupied with desire… Maybe it let some natural instinct take over.”
“You think that’s possible?” Marisol looked equal parts hopeful and worried that it wouldn’t work.
“Let’s find out.” Zuri’s heart raced with hope. “Elena?—”
“Can I be of service?” Elena asked from the doorway, as if there was any doubt in Zuri’s mind that she’d been listening to every word they’d said.
Rolling her eyes, Zuri pulled off her T-shirt. “Bite?—”
In a blur, Elena was behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. When she bit into her, flooding her system and weakening her legs, Zuri lost her purpose.
The world dissolved into sensation. Elena’s fangs sank deep, sending a jolt of pure pleasure that reverberated through every atom in her body. Marisol’s lips were soft and insistent against hers, a counterpoint to the sharp, exquisite agony of Elena’s bite.
Fuck . It was too much. Too good. Zuri’s thoughts scattered, her focus fracturing under the onslaught. She arched her back against Elena and pulled Marisol closer.
In a haze of heat and need, of tangled limbs and ragged breaths, she was drowning in pleasure, unable to break free. And then, through the fog, a flicker of light. A whisper of energy.
Zuri forced her eyes open, her vision blurry, her senses overloaded. But she saw them. Through the shadowed embrace of Elena’s bite, Marisol’s wings unfurled, shimmering and translucent and nearly too big to fit in her kitchen. They were gorgeous.
“Holy shit,” Zuri gasped, the words a strangled whisper against Marisol’s lips.
Elena released her neck, letting the blood stream down Zuri’s chest instead of chasing it with her tongue. “Gods,” she whispered.
Marisol, oblivious to their observation, looked confused when Zuri broke the kiss. A soft hum emanated from her wings, a vibration that resonated deep inside Zuri’s soul. It was a healing energy, pure and potent. Zuri recognized her power charging the air. All untapped potential.
“Do your thing, Bambi.” Zuri cupped Marisol’s jaw before moving out from between them.
Eyes wide, her wings flickered like a lightbulb about to burn out. “I don’t know?—”
“Don’t think.” Zuri pulled her in, offering her the puncture wounds in her neck. “Just don’t think about it.”
Pressing her lips to the sore skin, Marisol’s kiss filled her with a warm rush. And then, as if doing her best to relax, Marisol turned towards Elena. Her wings spread wide were impossible to look away from.
The hum intensified, the air crackling with energy. Elena gasped, her body bathed in a warm, golden light. Zuri watched, breathless, as Marisol’s power flowed into Elena. Illuminated like this, Zuri saw the girl Elena had once been. The one who hadn’t lived lifetimes of disappointment and loss and grief. The girl of her first life.
Marisol moved down Elena’s body. Hand sliding down her back until she was on her knees at her feet. As if they’d communicated telepathically, Elena pulled up her T-shirt while Marisol yanked her underwear down to the top of her thigh. But the move was more loving than erotic.
When Marisol pressed her lips to Elena’s left hip, she set off a lightning strike in Elena’s body. Her wings flickered again, but this time they didn’t fade – they turned nearly corporeal.
Holding her breath, energy emanating from Marisol in exhilarating waves, Zuri didn’t let herself blink. Every press of Marisol’s lips sent another current of light visibly cracking under Elena’s skin. They were lashes up her chest, over her arms, across her belly, down her leg.
When the light faded, Marisol’s wings retracted, disappearing like mist in the morning air. Elena looked down at herself, posture straight, movements fluid, eyes glowing bright.
“I’m whole,” Elena whispered, gaze darting down to a kneeling Marisol.
Zuri’s first thought shouldn’t have been regret. A sense of loss for what they were about to leave behind.