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Falling Moon

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His fiery aura licks between my thighs. My wings grow heavy aching to enfold Jaze in the soft depths. Need makes me tremble. I'm losing control. Energy builds beneath my skin ready to explode. Zero point energy falls for a mortal. There's a reason Isis, Valkyries, and other legends have wings. This isn't the first time it's happened but it always leads to destruction.

Erotica / Scifi
Ashley Needles
Age Rating:

Chapter 1


Glaring at the clock, for the hundredth time my jaw clenches. I want to hit the gym, squeeze cold iron in my palms, rip my muscles with too many reps, make my arms burn and shake. Frustrated, I stack another bag of feed on the shelf.

Five feet away glass doors slide open. Glancing over, my lungs stop working. Sin, in a sleek silver dress, hesitates at the entrance. A face to make angels rage in envy half hides behind cascading hair the color of moonlight.

Before she notices my gawking, I continue working or pretending to, keeping tabs on her. Slowly, she nears.

“Hey,” I say. She startles. Her hair shimmers with the slight jerk in movement. Enormous amethyst eyes widen, drowning me.

With curves a playboy bunny would die for, guys probably come on to her all the time. So why does she seem like a nun who just escaped a convent and is hearing a man’s voice for the first time?

Some bozo must have made her afraid. My head pounds with an overwhelming urge to knock in the head of whoever made her skittish. Certain she’ll bolt, like a rabbit facing a wolf, I hold still.

Our gazes nearly collide, but she focuses her eyes a few centimeters down. Why? Silence tortures me. Questions, without answers, swarming and biting like mosquitoes.

Waiting isn’t my strong suit but she’s got the look of a cornered animal. At least, she hasn’t sprouted wings and flown away. Her long pale neck and the curve of her throat beckon. What sounds she will make when I put my mouth below her ear? She licks her full lips with a pink tongue and swallows.

Thousands of fantasies race through my mind. Her soft breathing makes my skin ache for its sweet caress. Breasts lift with each inhale begging to be kissed. Imagining the weight of the creamy globes in my hands, my pecker stands to attention.

Tension in her face, the strain around her eyes make me think she’s struggling. Lips part on the verge of speaking remain mute as though she can’t remember words or how to speak. Male instinct to reassure her by wrapping her in my arms and telling her it’s going to be okay nearly takes over.

She closes her eyes like she can’t stand the sight of me and talk at the same time.

Words emerge slowly, “I’m here for an interview.” Her shy breathy voice, molten silk, wraps around me and I have to adjust my pants. Amaranthine eyes open and the dark seductive depths nearly bring me to my knees.

I nod in the direction of the manager’s office, “Over there.” She stays frozen staring at me, her lips again poised on the brink of saying something. The urge to feel those lips around my cock squeezes my balls.

She quietly thanks me and walks away. I watch her like a left tackle watches a quarterback, ready to take down anyone in the way.

Letting Moonlight go through the door into the office where I can’t protect her grates against primal instincts. Like a stalker, my eyes are glued to the closed metal door.

When she emerges, I make my way in. “You’re hiring her.”

My boss looks up. “She a friend of yours?” Jed asks his eyes gleaming.

No time for his questions. “Start her Monday or the next time an animal goes Godzilla on your ass you’re on your own.”

Without waiting for his reply, I race out, leaving Jed’s jaw hanging like an old man’s ball sac. No guarantee she will take the job or if I will see her again unless I find her now. She can’t have gone far. I check everywhere but like mist, she’s disappeared into air.

Finally, after a century worth of agony, my shift ends. I spend a few minutes playing with Rusty, waiting for a chance to slip into Jed’s office. The red retriever is still recovering from severe burns her asshole owner inflicted. Damn shit bucket threw firecrackers at her.

Jed’s clean desk is no surprise. Anal retentive OCD prick. Her application’s been stashed with a few hundred others. I jimmy open the filing cabinet hoping the damn thing is filed by date. No damn luck. Without Moonlight’s real name, I have no idea which one is hers.

Grinding my teeth my body rigid with defeat, I head to the gym to work out my frustrations.

Not a fan of regular cardio, I grab some gloves. My fists connect rhythmically with the three hundred pound boxing dummy, each hit sending it back. Staying on the balls of my feet I cut forward and around it. Hitting from different angles then working it in figure eights. By the third time around the room, sweat soaks my white tank top.

The work out doesn’t clear my mind the way it normally does, too pissed I didn’t catch up with Moonlight.

An atheist, this is my religion, my atonement. I hit harder trying to find redemption in quick successive jabs.

“What did it do to you?” Jen’s voice comes from behind me, a moment before the reek of chemical warfare she always wears.

“Not today Jen,” I emphasize with hard left hook before walking away.

She catches up with me. Some girls can’t take a hint. “Come watch the game at my house Friday.” Her shrill demand hurts my head.

Jen doesn’t care about watching sports. What she really wants is me, some place with a bed. “I’m not a fan of anything involving sidelines and bleachers,” I answer. It isn’t a lie.

Grinding another team into the dust is a worthwhile workout, but watching others do it, I have more fun going to the dentist.

“I’m sure we could find something to entertain you,” She strokes her cleavage. Things like this used to work, but Jen’s constant attempts at seduction are plain irritating.

Through gritted teeth, “I’m washing my dog Friday,” I snarl heading to refill my bottle. The cool filtered water in my mouth tastes sweet and pure washing away the agonizing stench of Jen’s cloying perfume. It takes emptying the thermos twice before I can breathe again.

Maybe it’s best Moonlight disappeared. Women are never as good inside as they look on the outside. Jen’s a prime example. Lost a second guitarist because of a night I was too drunk to remember except the part where he walked in on us. They were supposed to be a ‘couple.’

A ‘couple’ of what? Love doesn’t seem to be doing anyone any favors. It’s a loan on happiness with a high interest of pain and agony to be paid later.

Still, there’s something about the girl made of moonlight and mist so different my thoughts keep returning to her. She spoke carefully, moved cautiously like she was doing everything for the first time and wanting it to be exact, perfect.

With Jen dogging me I head to the lockers. The blood of my knuckles mixes with the water of the shower swirling at my feet, lecturing me about how I should have wrapped underneath the gloves. Annoyed, I finish showering, bandage my hands and go home.

After studying epitalon and it’s relation to the production of telomerase, I strum through a few chord changes on my guitar and go to bed. My usual routine except instead of dreaming about exams and viral genetics, I am drifting past galaxies exploring worlds with two suns all while surrounded by a warm silver glow.

Surpassing the speed of light, I’m no longer observing the universe but experience existence flowing through me. Silver turns to moonlight and soft skin, immortal eyes pierce the darkness within me. I wake up before I can kiss her.

Going dipshit crazy over a girl, is a problem I don’t need, but after a weekend of finishing a midterm thesis on the effects of different types of peptides on the telomeres of the human genome, I arrive early to work for one reason. My eyes scan for heaven and sin but the Goddess who haunted my dreams the last few nights is absent. Was the whole experience a fantasy? The girl. The dreams. Hallucinations from overwork? Or someone slipping me some fun. Maybe I’m just schizophrenic.

On Tuesday, the glass doors slide open to a view of Moonlight’s Kardashian ass as she bends over in a pair of jeans to pet a grimy mutt. A lightening strike of lust goes straight to my dick. I want her and I want her now. Matt by her side, his eyes on that lickable derriere pisses me off. He’s probably her trainer, but I don’t want him that close to her, so close he can reach out and touch her. I want to hit something, scratch that I want to hit someone, Matt. Half my weight, one solid punch to his pretty boy face would knock him out.

She straightens smiling at him and I imagine the feel of his nose crunching against my fist, his face spurting red. She blushes at something he says. I walk away before instinct forces me to go apeshit on Matt and drag Moonlight off to a cave somewhere.

My first jealous rage. Fuck. Matt has done me a favor. What I’m feeling isn’t sane or safe when it comes to her.

Out back, I unload a dusty semi truck and use the large heavy crates to sublimate the need to storm in, slam Matt to the floor and paint it with his blood. With each container, I visualize tearing Matt’s head off. I’m turning into a lunatic from Moonlight.

Lunatic derived from luna, a fourteenth-century Slavonic word for moon. When a full moon drove photosensitive people mad because they couldn’t sleep. I try to think of other things other facts, anything but how badly I want to take Moonlight to bed and never let her out from under me.

“See the new girl?” Kolby’s voice implies a lot more than seeing and has me seeing red.

“Yes.” Not in the mood for this conversation, I stare Kolby down. Kolby is good to work with, but right now that doesn’t matter to me. Prehistoric instincts to kill rivals for a mate overload my brain. I lift another box and start carrying it away before I do something to land my ass in jail.

“Do you know her name?” he asks following me. I don’t, that bothers me. I know nothing about her.

“No.” I set the box on a wood shelf.

Footsteps echo. Matt’s coming our way. One question will be answered. “Matt.” My tone is too harsh and jagged. His goofy smile drops. “The new girl, she got a name?” judging by his expression he doesn’t want to answer.

I don’t blame him if he feels anything I’m feeling, he wants to keep every detail to himself.

Kolby backs me up, “Come on Matt, it’s not like we’re asking if we can go home with her, we just want a name.”

Matt sighs. His hesitation has my hand itching to wrap around his throat until he coughs up an answer. Instead, my eyes try to drill holes through his brain.

“It’s Seren.” He grits out with a glare. “She won’t be taking any of us home. She’s hung up on someone.”

My jaw clenches, determination setting in. I will be taking Moonlight home. My rational mind tells me this is crazy, but I ignore it.

I clock out and take a break from heavy lifting. Exiting the storage area I locate her like gravity. She is an irresistible pull. Backlit by the window behind her holding a small gray kitten standing perfectly still, she makes me weak. Her relaxed expression echoes a dream not yet broken. Her motionless repose calms the beast within me.

She turns my direction, her eyes wide pulling me into the darkening depths. I want her to smile, give me a sign to approach. She doesn’t. A wolf waiting to spot which way the rabbit will run, I keep my gaze locked on her’s. Her stare falls to the kitten cuddled against creamy cleavage.

I invade her space softening my voice, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I barely hear her whispered words. Leaning forward I catch the faint sweet scent of her. Pure oxygen, better than I’d imagined, it teases my senses making me wonder again what she will taste like. I want to reach forward and touch her but stop knowing she hasn’t given any sign she wants me to. As fucked up as I am over her, I want her just as fucked up over me. I imagine her hot silk voice begging me to take her hard and fast.

I wait for her to raise her eyes. She doesn’t.

“Looking down means you submit or you’re afraid, either way, don’t.” Not one for explaining myself I’m bad at it. She raises her eyes one eyebrow arching in confusion. The ultraviolet radiation melts me. Several moments pass while my other brain takes up all the oxygen. Moonlight shifts uncomfortably.

“It shows weakness. Attracts predators,” like me, I add silently.

Our eyes meet and the world disappears. Euphoria engulfs me, reminiscent of my dream. Moonlight looks away. I gasp for air.

“Sorry,” even her mumbled apology tugs on my dick, and I don’t want her to apologize to anyone ever.

The desire to take her into the bathroom and suck her clit till her voice is too hoarse from screaming my name to ever say that word again gets me hard. Damn hard. Close to bursting in my pants, I know I’m going to be sore if I don’t take care of myself.

“Don’t apologize, I’m the ass telling you what to do.” A heated moment passes, her tongue darting out wetting a full bottom lip making my erection desperate to have her mouth sucking me. I make my way to the men’s room.

Locking the door I free my swollen shaft from prison and wrap my hand around the base. Picturing Moonlight in front of me begging me to cum inside her with her silky voice. I slide my hand up and down my cock. Precum weeps from the head.

I’ve never felt the need to squirt a load so badly. Breathing heavy, I imagine Moonlight panting beneath me, her breasts pushing forward with a bounce. I ache to slide myself into her hot dripping folds. Fondling my tight balls with my other hand; envisioning Moonlight’s face with my cum on it takes me closer to the edge. Stroking faster, I tighten my grip and imagine it’s her hot pussy clenching around my dick.

On the verge of spraying the walls. I stop myself. I want inside her. Between her lips, in her cunt, her ass, watching her orgasm over and over until she is quivering with exhaustion and my hot sperm glistens on every inch of her.

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