In An Arms Of An Angel の小説・ストーリー

With a dull boom, dazzling fireworks exploded across the night sky, shattering into millions of starlights before slowly falling away. The shifting light painted Victor’s profile in flickers of brightness and shadow, like something out of a dream. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder as he murmured, “Do you like it? I prepared this just for you.” I stared at the brilliant yet fleeting display, and an uncontrollable sadness hit me. This grand beauty felt just like the time I had with Victor; it was gorgeous but destined to disappear.

As they got out of the car, Roman could see Angel was having trouble walking on the gravel parking lot in her heels, so he went to her side and let her hold on to his arm as they walked across the lot to get in line for a table. Angel clutched onto her father's arm tighter than she really needed to, but he liked the feeling of her leaning on him for support. And she didn't let go when they got onto smooth surfaces and joined the line to get in. The girl just clung to her father like paint on a fence, and he was perfectly happy to have such a sexy young girl hanging off his arm. No one thought twice about it, except that Angel looked so luscious people were turning to look at her before they

Roman’s fingers wrapped around mine instantly, holding on like he didn’t want to let go. Up close, his eyes shone, and I could feel the warmth of him, steady and grounding. “You take my breath away,” he whispered. I smiled softly, squeezing his hand. “You too,” I whispered back. “Let’s do this.” The officiant, a kind-faced woman named Elena, smiled warmly at us. “Dearly beloved,” she began, her voice calm and clear as it carried through the garden. Birds chirped softly in the background, and a gentle breeze moved through the trees. The guests sat quietly, all eyes on us, the air filled with anticipation.

DANIEL “This place looks huge. Will there be a lot of people?” Angel’s voice wavered as she stared out the window at the high-rise building in Vegas. “But I’ll be there, just keep your eyes on me,” I watched her profile, the way fear painted itself across her features. She was trying so hard to be brave, my little Angel, but I could smell the terror on her. It made me want to fuck her again. Right here in the car. I wanted to remind her that fear was just another kind of arousal when it came from the right source.

Eve was looking at me like I’d finally lost the last of my sanity. "No way in hell, Rocco," she said, her voice dropping the playful lilt for something sharper and more protective. "Angel is for the eyes, not the hands. He’s my biggest draw, and he has a solo on the silks in twenty minutes, and he is not a fucking host.” She hissed. “He doesn’t sit with patrons, he doesn't drink with them, and he certainly doesn't do private sessions."

The Angel's face was chiselled and strong, with eyes that burned like stars. As the Angel descended, the air around us seemed to vibrate with energy. The wind picked up, whipping our hair into a frenzy, and the sound of rushing water filled our ears. The Angel's presence was both exhilarating and terrifying, like standing at the edge of a great precipice.

Standing before us are two beings so beyond our reality, I almost want to laugh just to keep from falling over. Angels. Real ones. Not pretty stained-glass angels. Not soft, glowing, harp-toting cherubs. These are soldiers. Aliens. Weapons given form. Ten feet tall. Four wings each—two across their shoulders, two just below the ribcage. Four arms. Eyes like voids. No whites. No irises. Just endless black. Golden skin. Battle armor. Swords, shields, spears—and a fifth hand left free, I guess, in case they feel like waving.

“About yesterday, I--” Angel waved his hand. “How do you like the presents?” I watched as he picked up one of the boxes and opened it. “What’s this about, Angel?” His smile widened. “Say my name again.” “What?” He took a step closer. “Say my name again. I like the way you say it.” I snorted. “Are you out of your mind?” “Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugged. I gasped. Was he high? “You know, you are the first woman to ever put hands on me…”

I say thickly, knowing that I owe him a lot more for saving my ass in the past. Slowly, with caution, I climb into the van and wrap my fingers around Arnicas’ wrists, lowering them from her ears. Her body visibly shakes as tears streak her flushed cheeks. “Angel, baby,” I whisper, not wanting to startle her. “I need you to look at me.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her legs pressed against her chest. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach when I realise that this can be triggering for her.

I knew that coming up here was risky but I just couldn't resist my desire to see Angel. Angel chuckled bitterly and then suddenly he pulled me into his arms, hugging me passionately. My breath went deep, I was overwhelmed with the emotions I felt. I was in his arms, my body embracing his warmth. "Angel...." He cut me off when his tough hand trailed firmly into the strands of my hair. He pulled my head closer to his shoulder and I just surrendered, deciding not to resist. I let my hands trail slowly from the sides of his waist, gradually up to his back.