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Marta stepped across the consecrated ground lithely, her toes pointing into the grass with each careful step. Vibrant brown eyes passed over the graveyard before the church, both structures collecting moss and cobwebs of abandonment. She reached a hand out and let it graze over the arched top of a tombstone when the wind shifted. She looked around, the lack of stars or moon on this cloudy night ensuring the darkness was penetrating and absolute.
Her hand fell away from the tombstone, and she continued her walk into the church, the broken doors making it easy to pass inside. Dust floated through the air, prayer benches were left askew over the cracked stone floor, grass growing through the imperfections. Marta glanced up at the broken stained glass window on the left side of the church, the image forever lost – though she knew it used to show an angel shining down on the Mother Mary.
“You look lost, little mouse,” a dark, smooth voice purred. Marta swiveled around and looked up to where the voice had echoed. From the shadows of the organ loft, a single leg dangled, swaying to and fro lazily. Soon, she saw the bent knee of another leg, and then the rest of the man leaned forward in the gap of the broken railing. Piercing blue eyes glinted at her, a devilish smile spreading beneath their magnificence.
“I’m no mouse,” she said, frowning up at the creature gazing at her. His grin grew to a flash of dazzling white teeth.
“No. I suppose you’re not,” he mused, and behind his broad back, the shadows spread. Materializing, arching, a set of leathery wings fanned out, encompassing the entirety of the loft. Fangs grew long atop his bottom lip, and a pair of horns curled around his head while a pointed tail flickered around his black slacks.
Marta’s own wings spread in retaliation, the brilliance of her white feathers illuminating the empty church with her ethereal glow. Her eyes glowed a blinding white, and the back of her ebony hair became haloed by the same stunning aura.
The man’s smile grew, and then he kicked off from the loft and swooped down on her. They collided like two freight trains, the momentum of his swooping wings bringing them into a whirlwind around each other as they crashed through the back of the church. Marta’s wings spread to catch her, and she kicked her legs into his body to separate them. Both their wings flared out to catch them, Marta having the higher ground.
A sword materialized in her hand, the blade a bright, brilliant silver. She brought it overhead and sliced down for the demon with a roar. Instead of meeting his flesh, the sharp edge slammed into the thick, rounded hilt of black steel. The long pole had a massive, arched blade at the edge, the sharp curve of the scythe pointed toward her wing menacingly.
The demon chuckled, his voice low and slightly strained from their deadlock. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before he spun his weapon in a windmill to dislodge them again. He twirled his weapon around and followed suit with his body, sending the scythe-point out for her side. She jerked her blade forth and twisted her wing out of the way to block, and so their dance began.
They moved at blinding speeds, weapons clattering and wings twirling them about one another as they fought deeper into the forest. Trees became victim to their deadly blows, branches sliced off and trunks gutted with terrible gashes. They could’ve fought endlessly, and as entertaining as that could have been, the demon was eager to move things along.
He hooked his scythe around her to drag her in close, and spun them into a tree. She grunted, their hands suddenly free of weapons so hers could steady her against the bark. He pressed in, pinning her between his body and the tree trunk. Her teeth grit together, back curling and wings flaring out at her sides in an instinctively protective measure to make her look bigger than she was. The demon chuckled, and his wings spread to mirror the arc of her own.
“Always so serious, Pet,” he purred near her ear. His hand trailed down her opposite arm as he growled, “Until I pull you apart.” She shivered, and then let out a fiercer battle cry and shoved against him. He staggered back, lurching further to miss the way her wing beat outward as she spun around. The next second, she launched herself at him, springing into the air to gracefully latch herself around him. Her legs snared his waist, hands clamping around his jaw to make it easier for her to collide their lips together.
The tips of her wings spread along the interior of his, a salacious courtship that had him groaning. One of her legs lowered enough to kick his knee in, and before he knew it, his back was flattened against the ground. Marta’s knees straddled his hips, and her hands immediately groped at the fine leather belt keeping his slacks in place. A low, sultry chuckle escaped him.
“So needy,” he chided as she ripped his belt off. Dark, desirous eyes locked with his.
“Who’s talking?” To prove her point, she slid her hands up his body and fisted her fingers in his hair. When a few curled around the base of his horns, he gave a sharp gasp and bucked into her. His whole scalp tingled, body coming to life as the heat of her form seeped into him and her hips languidly danced over his. Little Minx, she certainly knew what she was doing.
His tail wrapped around her neck, winding like a snake until she gasped and went erect. He sat up, hissing out a lusty noise as he stuck his tongue out to tease her parted lips. A lewd moan escaped her as she met him, their mouths meeting in a filthy show of sinful desire. His hands slid over her sides, tickling toward her back before his claws shred through the fabric keeping him from flesh. The sharpened tips grazed her soft skin then, prickling a trail of goose bumps along her back.
“Ransom,” she gasped, lips parting in ecstasy as his fangs grazed along her neck. His tongue danced the same path, one hand clamping low on her back to drag them together. She rolled into it, grinding their groins together in a torturous friction. Growling, he suckled on her neck and fisted his free hand into the soft feathers at the back of her wing. The song she sung as the sacred limb electrified at his touch was music to his sharp ears. Every feather seemed to shudder, and he encouraged the euphoric sensation to last by caressing his own leathery wings against the underside of hers.
Marta had their clothes off with the flick of her wrist. Ransom chuckled against her flesh when he could suddenly feel all of her. His arms wrapped around her to pull her up enough for his lips to wrap around one stiffened nipple. He circled his tongue around the sensitive flesh while her fingers threaded through his thick hair, nails teasing beneath his horns to make his whole scalp tingle. As he feasted himself on her other breast, she dragged her nails down his shoulder and arm harsher. Impatient.
Humming, he let his tail snake between her legs, and reveled at how she gasped when he pressed the length of it between her slick folds. She couldn’t help but buck into the stimulation, and all he had to do was let his muscles slither to heighten her pleasure. When the flick of his tail bumped her clit and had another siren’s call escaping her, he replaced his tail with a few fingers.
Their lips met while he felt how wet she was, encouraging more of her juices to flow between them. Marta moaned again, tongue swiping against his messily as her nails scraped down his chiseled abs. She wrapped her fingers around his hot, heavy length and smiled into the kiss when his breath hitched. All it took was a few strokes for his arm to wrap around her hips with purpose. He jerked her up onto her knees and guided himself into her aching slit.
Fuck, Ransom felt like he could taste heaven when her wet, warm flesh enveloped him to the hilt. Eyes starry, he searched her lustful expression, lips swollen red and eyes blacker than sin, and felt his resolve snap. Their wings curled together, wrapping around them in a protective cocoon. Ransom used his hold on her hips, and Marta the strength of her thighs to bounce her atop his thick cock. When he pierced her deep at just the right angle, and pleasure pulsed through her in a heated burst, Marta gasped and snagged his lips in another desperate kiss.
They seemed intent on devouring one another, taking all they could and giving nothing, and somehow it was utterly perfect. Her nails scratched down his spine, making his wings jerk and press into hers more intensely. He fisted his hands into the back of her feathers again and swallowed her rapturous cry. His tail found its way between her thighs again, pressing to the tip of her folds to stimulate her clit while he pounded into her. The sensations became too great, building upon one another until she was nothing but electricity and heat.
Her orgasm flooded around his cock, walls strangling his own orgasm out of his balls. Snarling into their brutal kiss, he pulled her flush against him to spill his seed deep within her, fangs threatening to pierce her lip when he suckled the already bruised flesh between his teeth. The sound of her strangled cry had his cock throbbing valiantly through the tail end of the climax, and they both shuddered from the power of it.
They fell apart as quickly as they’d come together, panting atop the grass in a mess of limbs and shared fluids. Eventually, Ransom sat up, and immediately found his lap full of white feathers. He looked down, and then to where Marta had rolled onto her stomach. She had her head tucked against her folded arms, face hidden beneath a mess of black hair. He chuckled in spite of himself, amused by her silent, insistent beckon for him to preen her wing.
When he looked down and saw the mess he’d made of her feathers, he supposed he could see why.
Hand splaying, he hesitated a moment. Even with some feathers in disarray, her wings were beautiful, full and strong. He let his hand hover over the elegant arch of the bone, and skimmed his claw against a few feathers to see how she’d react. She kept still, but he could feel the skin of her back beginning to prickle. Huffing, he finally, carefully, started to re-align her feathers. A tiny, content moan escaped her as he worked, thumbing each individual feather until he felt how they should lay together, and adjusted the ones that were misaligned.
The silence was comfortable for a time, until reality started seeping closer to them. Neither could really stop themselves from this – they hadn’t been able to for a long time – but the danger of their predicament still existed.
“There’s going to be a siege,” Marta finally said, her head tilting enough so her face was visible. She looked up at him, searching for a reaction despite how she knew he’d keep his careful mask.
“Yeah,” Ransom said, unsurprised by the news. There was always something. A battle, or a siege, or some purification. “We’re planning to desecrate one of your holy lands in a fortnight.” Marta took a breath and nestled her cheek against her forearm. They did this when they had the news to share, prepared the other for what was to come, while simultaneously giving each other some news to deliver their brethren. It kept them in the good graces of their respective sides, and gave them enough cover to keep up with their infrequent trysts.
They fell silent again, the melancholy growing stronger as Marta sat up. Ransom was slower in tending to her other wing, drawing the mourning for their dwindling time out a few minutes longer. His claw trailed down her final feather almost affectionately, and the gentle whisper might as well have been a church bell.
Marta turned toward him, her eyes wide and soft. She smiled, a gentle thing that had no business being shown to a creature such as him, but he took the tortuously beautiful moment like any good masochist. When they kissed, the tenderness extended past how raw their lips were.
Then, she was gone in a flurry of white feathers.