Hold on to your knickers ladies...
When they arrived back at Elizabeth's house, they were all tired, their bodies languid with the exhaustion that only sun and sand and salt water can bring. As if in mutual understanding each couple found a secluded spot in the house or in the yard in which to languish together alone for a few moments and regain their vigor. In those quiet moments, the Ladies each reflected privately on the men that had watched over them so solicitously while they had played in the water.
Daemon was masculine beauty personified and his deep brown skin made him look as if he were born to lounge on the beach and soak in the sun. He had a lover's body, not too soft and not too hard, ideally toned and firm and inviting, and one you knew would be a pleasure just to touch. But his eyes held the real seduction, the promise of ecstasy (only that now and no pain since he was with friends who would not mistake the invitation in his looks) and the knowledge of a myriad ways of delivering it. It was impossible not to imaging him touching you, not to dream of his body moving over you, brushing against yours. Shivers at just the thought of that much, had all of the Ladies except Jaenelle cautiously moving on to the next subject.
Azazeal, ah Azazeal, so elegant with his tall but slight form that at one moment looked almost like an adolescent boy before reaching adulthood…and then he would move with his own feline grace, his delicate muscles rippling, and you no longer mistook him for an innocent. This body knew things that belied his sometimes harmless looking face and his unimposing frame. He could change so quickly from serenely angelic to deviously seductive and powerfully persuasive that it kept one's mind spinning. And you wanted to trust him, to hear him speak and believe him, to follow him and learn from him, to give yourself over to his intelligence. And then there was that hint of temptation, an impure desire that threatened to have you throwing consequence to the wind in order to have him.
Lucivar was the epitome of a warrior. Broad and strong, his athletic form with faint scars told the tale of his life in slavery and in battle. Each part of him, each muscle showed the years of training and proclaimed his skill. He was the most physical of all of them, sure of each movement he made, keenly aware of his surroundings, and focused on the reality of the corporeal state. Even at a stand still he appeared quick and balanced, ready for anything. And what would it be like to tame such a wild creature; to make soft what is most often hard and merciless? That was the question all but Marian had to ask themselves, but it was a forbidden question, to be sure, considering his past as a slave, and yet who could not wonder at it?
And Lucifer, he was perfection, absolute, unrelenting perfection. Each time you thought you would find a part of him that was slightly lacking, you would find it instead faultless in curve and angle and…apparent texture. You wanted to touch him, to feel with your hand what your eyes were sensing, not out of lust, but out of a strange compulsion to be in contact with such precision, such beauty. He was perhaps the only being in all of existence that could shed any kind of light on the meager imperfections that were contained in Daemon, Lucivar, and Azazeal's forms. Nevertheless he wore it as only an angel used to such beauty could. He knew he was captivating and yet he swiftly forgot it in his mirth and his attention to Elizabeth. But to think of that body, trembling against Elizabeth's, eyes filled with love and adoration, and to know that when he gave himself to her he allowed her hands to touch not only his flesh but his very essence (because they were ultimately one and the same in an angel), it was a decadent thought. A thought that they had all had on the beach, even the men, before shaking it out of their heads. If that devil wasn't so open about…well everything…they wouldn't have even imagined it but he hid nothing. And while sight of him had brought the unbidden vision differently to each of them, each held the exquisite truth of his extraordinary bond with a simple human woman.
Dinner was nice and casual. They ate out on the backyard patio since it was such a nice day and their energy was back up after the brief rest before the meal.
After dinner, they retired to the living room and arraigned themselves to continue their conversation. Jaenelle and Daemon actually, sort of, cuddled on the love seat, while Cassie went one step further and lay in Azazeal's lap on the couch. Lucivar and Marian had brought in padded chairs from the living room that accommodated their wings and placed them opposite the larger couch.
Elizabeth was seated in the one armchair with Lucifer sitting on the floor next to her, one leg outstretched and one knee up, an arm resting over his knee. Only Lucifer could make it seem natural that a grown man would be sitting on the floor and yet at the same time like he was sitting at the foot of a throne. Elizabeth had a hand rested on his right shoulder and would occasionally run her hand through his hair absently as she listened to Azazeal. Lucifer was notably calm and silent as Azazeal recounted a story from ancient times for everyone's entertainment in his deep and entrancing voice.
When the story was over, Elizabeth rose and said, "Dessert," and much to her gracious annoyance all of the Ladies jumped up to help.
When the women had left, Daemon turned to Lucifer and said in a low, seductive voice, "I see that males in this world like to be petted too."
Lucivar smirked at this and Azazeal smiled broadly.
"One day, my boy, I will show you the best way to be petted," Lucifer responded with a lazy smile.
"And what way is that?" Lucivar asked.
"In the form of a cat, of course! There is no better form for receiving such attention. Why do you think they're so happy all of the time?"
Daemon and Lucivar burst out in uncontrolled laughter that Azazeal and Lucifer did not fully comprehend the source of, but it was good to see them so relaxed. Before they could explain about the kindred cats, the Ladies had come back with the sweets.
That night Daemon and Jaenelle got the Master suite, while Lucivar and Marian took the same room as they had the last time they had spent the night here. Of course, this time Lucivar knew exactly how to defeat this small bed and as soon as Marian closed the door an Ebon-Gray shield went up around the room and he turned to her with hungry eyes.
Cassie and Azazeal took the new, second guest room that resided in the same room as the office, but they paid no attention to their surroundings once their mouths locked together. Elizabeth and Lucifer had taken up their spot on the living room floor and were quickly sprawled out all over each other, naked as if they were the only people in the house, and engaging in the slow build up to what would be a tremendous finish.
Daemon was amorous too and something made Jaenelle think that part of it was the inappropriateness of making love in someone else house…in someone else world. She felt him Black shield the room and then there was no room for any thoughts other than wonder at the pleasure he was creating.
In any other situation, you might say that Daemon's sexual heat was driving all of the others to mate, but not so in this case. Lucivar and Marian's coupling was entirely, well not entirely, practical, for the purpose of ensuring that their bodies were tired enough to sleep soundly in this difficult bed. Azazeal and Lucifer, for reasons only the angels understood, had decided now was a fitting occasion for angelic worship and simultaneously let loose with ardent passion the full depth of their feelings. In a strange effect, that thankfully kept itself between the four of them, each angel's song intertwined with the other, amplifying the sensation and though they worshiped different goddesses, the feeling of them united together in this act felt incredibly right, as if hearing the host of heaven joined in joyous song.