Spirit Flight Read Online Free PDF Page A

beautiful, Marisa," Ukiah whispered,
kissing the base of her spine, his fingers gliding over her slick
folds, circling her clit and making her cry out.
    She pressed into his hand, rubbed herself on
his tormenting fingers, her breath coming in short pants and
accompanied by low moans. "Please," she begged, "please," and his
touch became more dominant, more aggressive.
    A primal energy filled the cave. It felt as
though a huge presence loomed behind her. His cock slammed home in
a rough thrust of ownership.
    His hands gripped her hips and held her in
position as he thrust. And the force of him plunging in and out of
her drove the breath from her lungs in screams that signaled a mix
of pleasure and pain.
    Tears formed in her eyes and the shadows
dancing on the wall in front of her blurred and blended. They took
the shape of a thunderbird with its wings outspread, flapping in
time to Ukiah's thrusts, its chest swelling as if with pleasure.
Ukiah's fingers tangled in her hair to prevent her from looking
away, though she was held mesmerized.
    "Mine," he said, voice harsh like thunder,
jagged like lightning, raw and possessive.
    He thrust again and orgasm rolled over her
as his hot release filled her channel and the giant shadow of the
thunderbird rushed forward, taking her with it into primordial
darkness.
    Ukiah panted and shivered above Marisa's
limp form, his cock still buried in her heated depths, his body
weak even as the thunderbird's triumphant exaltation roared through
him. She was pregnant now. With his child. With the
thunderbird's.
    If they'd met under different circumstances
he would have waited. Would have married her first and moved her
into the lodge which served as both his house and his source of
income. He would have let her accustom herself to her new life
slowly.
    But the choice hadn't been his to make. He
walked in the spirit world now. This body was a magical
manifestation restricted to the cave, a duplicate to house
thunderbird essence. His true physical form lay miles away on a
pallet in a sweat building behind his home.
    He pulled from Marisa's body. A masculine
smile of satisfaction formed with her mumbled protest and move to
press her skin to his.
    Gathering her hair, he wove it into a thick
braid, then lay down next to her, covering them with a fur, her
back to his chest, his arms holding her to him. Possessive and
protective at the same time.
    She'd be happy in his care. She'd embrace
the changes to come, and thrill at what it would mean for her
art.
    Tomorrow he'd reveal himself as Thunderbird.
Tomorrow he'd deal with her brother.
     
     
    * * * * *
    Chapter
4
     
     
    Marisa woke cocooned in warmth. Ukiah.
    Her fingers ached to touch him, to trace
eyebrows and nose and lips, to explore line and shadow, to glide
over muscle and commit every inch of him to sensual memory and then
translate the memory onto paper and canvas.
    She wanted to wake him, assure herself he
was real and not a fantasy she'd conjured up in a hallucination.
She wanted to make love and afterward lie content in each other's
arms, intermixing conversation with kisses.
    Her bladder insisted on relief.
    She got up. But a quick check of the cave
revealed there was no natural opening to serve as a bathroom.
    Heat climbed into her face with thoughts of
squatting in a corner. Maybe outside?
    She moved to where her clothes hung on a
wooden peg. Reaching for her shirt, a chill swept across her naked
back.
    Where were his clothes? Not that she
wouldn't forever savor the first sight of him wearing nothing but a
loincloth, but it was cold outside and she didn't think he'd
been out hiking in only a strip of suede.
    Her heart tripped into a faster beat.
    This is real. I'm not out in the storm,
lying on the ground and slowly dying.
    She put on the shirt stiff with dried mud
and blood. And then the jeans.
    Her heart thumped harder, faster.
    Maybe Ukiah had been out hiking in
just a loincloth. Maybe it was a test of endurance for him, or some
kind of