Read Fallen Angel (Hqn) for Free Online

bothered him now.
    You’re just tired.
    He was tired. He couldn’t remember ever being this wiped. The shower would have to wait.
    He moved across the wood floors, his toe catching on the edge of the throw rug. He grumbled, kept moving down the short hallway, tearing his dark blue thermal shirt over his head as he went. Reaching the bed, he sat down to pull his boots off, stood again to remove his jeans. Then he yanked the covers back and just stared at the white sheets for a moment before lying down and throwing the dark brown quilt over his body. He felt himself sink into the down ticking, pure luxury to his stiff and aching muscles.
    “Ah…”
    His eyes burned, so he closed them, sighing once more. He felt himself drifting, tried to fight it simply because he’d gone so long without sleep that staying awake felt like the right thing to do. But in moments he was giving over to the urge to sleep. To dream. He let his body sink into the bed. It felt so damned good. The sheets soft against his skin.
    Skin…
    Her skin was like pale satin, like fresh butter beneath his hand. He knew already the curve of her cheek. Wanted to know the curve of her breasts that he’d seen outlined beneath the hospital sheets. That he’d seen on the beach in the chiaroscuro light of dawn.
    He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. But he couldn’t help himself. She was too damn beautiful and he was too exhausted to fight it. So exhausted he couldn’t fight the images of her in his head. Or was she right in front of him?
    Her face shimmered before him, then her body, as if she were under water. There, yet insubstantial. She reached out for him, touched him. Just her fingertips grazing his arm, but his body was on fire instantly.
    He knew he couldn’t touch her. But she was smiling at him, her hands sliding over her sides, cupping her naked breasts, inviting him.
    Can’t touch her.
    “Touch,” she whispered, her voice as soft and quiet as a feather on the air.
    Her own hands went between her thighs, and her long lashes lowered to her cheeks, her mouth making a small O of pleasure as she sighed.
    He followed her lead, letting his hand slide down over his stomach, the muscles tight with desire already. Then lower, to his stiffening cock. He was hard as steel, just watching her, hearing her voice. He wanted to touch her so badly he could hardly stand it. He wanted to bring her pleasure. To make her cry out in ecstasy.
    Her nipples would come up hard beneath his fingertips, growing darker and darker pink as he caressed them. They’d be firm and sweet in his mouth as he sucked.
    She looked at him with her sky-blue gaze, her hands coming up to smooth over her full breasts, her fingertips teasing the hardening nipples.
    Need poured into his system like the ocean, a powerful, roaring white noise in his head.
    Her mouth was pink, so, so pretty, and he knew how soft her lips would be around his cock…
    “Ah…”
    Sucking, sucking, while his fingers found the sweet cleft between her thighs, delved between the silken folds. She would be wet, his fingers sliding. And then inside her…oh, yes…pushing into her tight, sweet body.
    He stroked himself, his fisted hand moving up and down, his hips beginning to thrust. Pleasure knifed through him, hot and sharp. He could almost smell her desire. Could smell his own. He was going to come soon.
    “Ah, God…”
    If only he could touch her. He would spread her pretty thighs, move down between them, his tongue pushing into her. He could almost hear her moans, feel her muscles tightening as desire rose, her hard nub of flesh in his mouth, her sweetness on his tongue.
    “Yes…” She smiled at him, all lovely, sweet innocence, along with an almost unbearable sensuality. Too damn beautiful, this girl.
    His hips arched, his hand gripping his cock until it nearly hurt. But it felt too damn good.
    He would make her come, with his hands, with his mouth, her head thrashing. And then he would fuck