An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis IV ISBN # 1-4199-0524...
101 downloads
561 Views
821KB Size
Report
This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis IV ISBN # 1-4199-0524-4 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Getting Slayed Copyright © 2006 Anya Bast Sting of the Wind Copyright © 2006 Charlotte Boyett-Compo Temperature Rising Copyright © 2006 Lena Matthews Virtuosity Copyright © 2006 Kris Starr Shadows Stir Copyright © 2006 N.J. Walters Passionflower Copyright © 2006 Ravyn Wilde Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky. Cover design by Darrell King. Photography by Dennis Roliff. Electronic book Publication: December 2006 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Content Advisory: S – ENSUOUS E – ROTIC X - TREME Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic. S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature.
X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
ELLORA’S CAVEMEN: DREAMS OF THE OASIS IV Getting Slayed By Anya Bast
Sting of the Wind
By Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Temperature Rising By Lena Matthews
Virtuosity By Kris Starr
Shadows Stir By N.J. Walters
Passionflower By Ravyn Wilde
GETTING SLAYED Anya Bast
Dedicated to all who read these lines. Without you, my words would be bottled up inside. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Getting Slayed
Chapter One Still a virgin. Was I destined to remain a virgin for the rest of my pathetic, royal life? I entered the grand ballroom and ran a finger over the backs of the plush velvet chairs that lined the banquet table. The chamber was bedecked in its finest. Satin and brocade draped the walls, upon which flickered shadows cast by the guttering candles in the sconces and taper holders. The long banquet table had been set with china and crystal, ready to receive Cook’s mouth-watering feast. But the chamber would remain empty of guests. Just as my chastity belt would remain locked and my body would remain untouched. I flicked one of my royal fingernails against the rim of a crystal goblet and heard the ring echo through the chamber. Then I pulled out a chair and collapsed into it with an expulsion of breath. My locked chain mail smallclothes—my chastity belt—chafed my skin and made me wince. It was lined with silk, but it was still uncomfortable. “Jeweline, cease your dramatics,” said my father, the king, as he bustled into the chamber. His ermine robes swirled around him as he made dramatic hand motions, revealing from which parent I’d contracted my love for hyperbole. ”We’ll find you a new husband, one who hasn’t been charbroiled by dragon’s breath.” My intended, Prince Albert Von Dinkenburger, had been traveling to the castle this very day to wed me, but along the way a fierce dragon had attacked his entourage, scooped Albert up and flown him away on gossamer wings. We didn’t really know if he’d been charbroiled or not, but the odds weren’t in poor Dinky’s favor. “He was the seventh one, Daddy!” I yelled. “Someone needs to take care of that dragon! Where are your slayers?” “Uh, pumpkin, they’ve all been charbroiled.” I hid my face in my hands and fought the tears rising in my throat. “Anyway, Prince Dinkenburger always did smell a little funny,” continued my father. “Perhaps you should count your blessings.” “But he was the last one!” I wailed from the sanctuary of my hands. The truth of that forced me to give in to my tears. Yes, he had smelled a bit strange, a little like burnt onions and ripe oranges, but he’d held the key to my chastity belt! I was a twenty-five year old virgin. If I didn’t get laid soon, my sex would shrivel up. If I didn’t get laid soon, I’d go insane.
7
Anya Bast
“There, there, dear.” My father absently patted my heaving shoulder. I looked up at him accusingly. “If you don’t take this chastity belt off me, soon you’ll have nothing but a lunatic daughter to wed off to some fop of a prince!” I declared. And they were all fops. Nancy-boy, scream-like-a-girl fops. But they were fops with cocks, even if they didn’t know how to use them. They were fops with the power to unlock my chastity belt. That was all that mattered. “No, my dear,” the king chuckled. “You’re far too headstrong and curious a girl to risk that.” I wanted to scream at him that I was no longer a girl, but a woman grown. A woman with needs. Cook called from the kitchen that the frosted gingerbread was still warm from the oven and Daddy wandered off in that direction, forgetting me, his poor, over-aged and under-sexed daughter still sitting forlornly at the banquet table. All the dragon slayers charbroiled, I fumed. How could that be? The wimps. How hard could it be to slay one little dragon? One reptile with wings! I slumped on the side of the table as much as my chain mail smallclothes would allow and drummed my fingers on the tabletop. That dragon was the source of all my trouble. It needed to die and it needed to die now. I sat up a little, an idea formulating in my mind. How hard could it be to slay one stupid dragon? The pointy end of the spear went into the soft underbelly. I had good aim. Plus, I was motivated, far more motivated than any of Daddy’s dragon slayers had been. A motivated woman was very dangerous, more dangerous than any stupid warrior with a pointy stick. I sat up straight, thinking I knew exactly where all the castle’s weapons were. I knew where the dragon’s lair was. If I left now and hurried, I could make it there and back by nightfall. By this evening I could be free of all my problems. All I needed was one dead dragon.
***** Approaching the cave under the gloomy, storm-filled skies of late afternoon, I began to doubt my plan. The forest seemed ominous and dark. My hair had completely frizzed. I’d ruined my best pair of Houncho Baolo slippers. My ass hurt like hell where the horse’s saddle chafed it against my chastity belt, and the light mail I wore over my dress was becoming heavy. Could it be that my decision to sneak out of the castle to take on a ferocious, firebreathing dragon with only my lily-white hands had been a tad hasty?
8
Getting Slayed
Nah. I felt sure I’d be standing triumphantly over a dead dragon very soon. A week from now, I’d find a man with a nice, hard and ready cock to marry. I steeled my nerves, gripped my spear and guided my horse through the last bit of woods separating me from my quarry. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t the silence I received as I guided my mount through the tree line and into the clearing in front of the cave where the dragon made his lair. I shrugged. Perhaps I’d caught the dragon while he was out burning innocent animals to a cinder or something. Relaxing, since dragon slaying was not an immediate priority, I looked up, watching twilight paint the sky in a riot of pinks, blues and purples. It would be dark soon. I hoped the dragon showed. The sooner I killed him, the sooner I could get home. In the same moment I wished it, my horse sniffed the air, whinnied and danced to the side, unnerved. I struggled a moment to regain control of the startled beast. As I battled my horse, a shuffling, snorting sound came from the trees opposite me. Heart pounding, I lowered my gaze to glimpse a huge dragon staggering out from the tree line. My gaze drifted down from its massive head with its enormous green eyes, flaring nostrils and very sharp teeth, all the way down to its massive body and deadly, curved claws. Suddenly I knew without a doubt that in my desperation, I’d made a very large, very suicidal mistake. I was going to die a virgin. Shocked and numb, I watched the dragon stagger toward me. It appeared injured…or drunk. It seemed to not even notice me as it made its way toward the opening of its lair. My horse snorted and reared in fright. It was then the dragon noticed me. As I struggled with my mount, the great beast’s head swung around. I hefted the spear and, with a shrill scream, launched it through the air toward the dragon. It was an automatic reaction, one born of fear. The beast’s head snapped up at the sound of my shriek and locked its eyes with mine. Suddenly, the dragon collapsed to the ground. My horse reared again, obscuring my vision. I felt myself tumble backward and land on my ass in the dirt. The only thing that saved my butt from a bad bruising on the rocks was my chastity belt. The stupid horse bolted into the woods, leaving me alone with the dragon. As soon as the dust cleared, I sat stunned at the scene before me. The spear lay on the ground, apparently never having made contact with the beast. Only…it was no longer a beast that lay there. It was a man. A naked man.
9
Anya Bast
I picked myself up from the dirt and approached him, as quietly and carefully as I could. He was buck nekkid, I enthused as I drew closer. Nice tight ass, strong legs dusted with dark hair, muscled back and shoulders. He was gorgeous and strong. Not a fop in sight. If only he hadn’t been lying facedown. Damn. Was he some kind of shape shifter? Had an evil witch cursed him? Was he, himself, an evil witch and enchanted himself? It happened from time to time. The questions shot around like arrows in my head. He groaned and I stilled, my gaze skating over the back of the man’s head where his long, dark hair spread over the ground. “Uh…sir?” I queried uncertainly. “Excuse me, sir?” He groaned again, and then mumbled, “Where am I?” I knelt beside him and laid a hand to his shoulder. His skin felt warm and muscles bunched under my fingertips. Oh, nice. “Sir, are you hurt?” I urged him to flip onto his back. Just to check his injuries. Really. “I’m fine. The shift always leaves me down for a moment.” He gave a groan that seemed to come from the very heart of him and turned over. Holy mother of the universe and everything that was good and wonderful…and large. He was beautiful. My pussy twitched in the confines of my chastity belt at the mere sight of him. Even flaccid, he was enormous. My fingers twitched and I restrained myself, only barely, from touching him. His face was shadowed by a few days’ growth of facial hair. His eyes flickered open at just the same moment I managed to drag my gaze away from his enormous cock. I narrowed my gaze at him. “You were just a dragon,” I accused. He closed his blue eyes briefly. “Did I kill anyone?” I glanced around, looking for charred remains. “You mean, besides seven of my fiancés? I don’t think so.” “Fiancés?” His face went ashen. “You mean all those fancy fops on their way to their weddings?” He shook his head and swore under his breath. “I apologize for your fiancés. However, I don’t think I killed them.” He put a hand to his forehead and sat up, wincing as though in pain. “Although I’m never sure what hell I’ve caused during the day.” “What do you mean?” He looked at me. “I mean that during the day I’m a dragon. At twilight I turn back into a man. As a dragon I remember little of being a man, and when I am a man I remember little of being a dragon. Right now I’m like a man who’d dreamt he’d been a dragon. I only remember bits and pieces. It’s been that way for years.” 10
Getting Slayed
Aha! He was cursed. “Are you a man, or are you a dragon? I mean, originally.” He hesitated. “A man, though sometimes it’s hard to remember.” “What did you mean about not having charbroiled my suitors?” “They’re shiny. They’re covered in jewels. Such treasure is irresistible to a dragon. I spy them glittering in the sunshine and I can’t resist. I scoop them up and bring them back to my cave. Sometimes when I change in the evening, the noblemen and women I’ve stolen are still here. Usually, they just stumble off into the woods, traumatized. I prefer cows.” “Excuse me?” “Cows. To eat. To charbroil. People taste funny.” “Uh. Okay.” I put my hand on my hip. “So why haven’t my suitors shown back up? You’d think they’d end up back home at some point. I mean, since they weren’t charbroiled and just misplaced.” The man put a hand to his forehead like he had a headache. He sighed. “You’d be surprised how many noble people don’t enjoy their nobility. They take the opportunity to flee and start again. I know for a fact that Prince Hepplebottom has settled down with a pretty, plump milkmaid in a village south of here. He has a whole passel of children now.” I drew a sharp breath at the name of the first of my disappeared suitors. Did they not wish to marry me? How could that be? I was the prettiest woman in all the seven kingdoms. Everyone said so. I had fair, blemish-free skin, long dark red hair and flashing green eyes. The bards sang of my luscious bosom from here to the edge of the Great Blue Sea. Did my beauty count for nothing? What of the hefty dowry I came with? The land, the gold, the political alliances? I frowned down at him. Hard. Would I ever get laid? “So, what will it take to break the curse you’re under?” A kiss? A good, hard fuck? My eyes swept down his body, and I tried not to look too much like a predator. “I’m a princess and may be of service,” I simpered innocently and smiled. “Help me into the cave,” he said. I helped him up, happy to touch him, and he staggered into the cave. What a strange turn of events my trip had taken, but if I got sex out of it, it would be worth it. Now that I knew that my suitors hadn’t been eaten, but merely misplaced, I figured I was owed it. When we entered the cave, the man walked to a sputtering fire and fed it some branches. He stood, seeming unaware of his glorious state of nakedness. All to the better as far as I was concerned. My gaze flicked down, noting that he’d become a little aroused. His massive cock was partially erect. My mouth watered. He cleared his throat. I glanced up and blinked, realizing I’d been staring. Again. 11
Anya Bast
“My name is Marcus. It would be nice to know the name of my slayer,” he said in a rich, smooth voice that had the power to drop my smallclothes…perhaps enough power to break the lock on my chastity belt, as well. “Jeweline. Princess Jeweline of the Kingdom of Hask, actually.” I curtsied. The hem of my now filthy white gown dipped into the dirt. He let his eyes roam my body at length. The look on his face grew heated and his cock grew harder. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one who yearned for physical companionship. His response to me only heightened my own arousal. My sex inside its metal casing grew hot. My breasts suddenly seemed very sensitive inside the tight bodice of my riding gown. He looked down at himself, suddenly realizing his state of undress and went for a pile of clothing in the corner. “Forgive me. I’m not used to having visitors, especially not princesses.” With a frown, I watched him dress. “You don’t have to—” I blurted, taking a step forward. I paused, reminding myself that I was, indeed, a princess and should act like one. Even though in reality I was far more a desperate woman in need of a long, hard fuck. This man certainly had all the right equipment to give me what I needed. “I mean, I’m in your home. You should dress in whatever manner you choose.” I smiled my most winning smile. He stilled with his hands in the act of buttoning his trews. His feet and chest remained bare. “You came here to kill me, didn’t you?” A note of a curiosity had crept into his tone. I straightened my spine. “You’ve misplaced seven of my suitors in the last seven years. All the eligible men in all the seven kingdoms! I’m twenty-five and still wear my chastity belt!” I lifted my skirt to show him the thin burnished metal of the horrid chain mail my nurse locked me in every morning and every night after bathing. “I want it off!” I declared. A slow smile spread across Marcus’ shapely lips. My heart started to pound. “I can take care of that,” he said in a silky voice. Something flipped in my stomach. “How?” “Remove that over-armor and come here to me.” My pussy pulsed at his words and the arousal that seemed to glimmer in his eyes. I pulled the light chain mail armor I wore to protect my chest over my head and let it fall to the ground beside me with a series of soft, ringing clinks. I walked over and stood in front of him. He stared down into my eyes. “When I’m a man, I still have some of the senses and abilities of my other self. I can scent that you are ripe and ready for sex. I can see that you’re aroused by me. Your father has done you a great disservice by locking you in that belt. You need to be fucked, and badly.” “Why do you think I came here?”
12
Getting Slayed
A slow smile spread across his full lips. “I think you came here to kill me,” he answered. I answered him back with a smile of my own. The seductive one I’d practiced so many times in the mirror. “It’s true I’d like to give you a little death,” I quipped in a husky voice. “Do you want me to fuck you?” “After displacing all my fiancés, I think you owe it to me. In fact, I command it of you,” I said in my most imperious voice, the voice of a righteous princess. All he did was grin. His arms came around me and lifted me as though I weighed nothing. He lowered me to a blanket spread out by the fire. I felt breathless lying there, staring up into his whiskey-colored bedroom eyes. He leaned over me, brushing his lips lightly against mine. I closed my eyes awaiting a deeper kiss, but it never came. Instead, he touched a finger to the lock on my chastity belt. The metal melted enough for him to pry it apart. A moment later and the horrible belt was gone. Air bathed my sex, teasing my needy, swollen labia and aroused clit. He stood. “You’re free. Our debt is settled.” I rose up to rest on my elbows, my hopes fading fast. “But—” “You think I should sleep with you just because you command it? Just because you think I owe it to you?” He shook his head. “No one commands a dragon, not even a princess.” He turned and walked away. I lay there with my skirts thrown up around my waist, finally freed from the dreaded curse of my chastity belt and with a perfectly useable cock just feet away. Emotions roiled inside me. Disappointment. Degradation. Discouragement. He was denying me? How could that be? “What’s the matter? Don’t you want me?” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. He turned and gave me a measured stare. “It’s been years since I’ve been with a woman, and you are a—” his gaze swept down my body and his cock hardened under his trews, tenting them, “a beautiful woman, but you are also a spoiled brat of a princess.” He turned away. “I will not be commanded by you.” I lay there stunned for several heartbeats, and then struggled to my feet. I took a moment to heave the belt into the fire to melt before rounding on him. “Spoiled, you say? Well, perhaps I am. But,” I sputtered, trying to find a suitable insult, “at least I’m not…not a stupid, cursed dragon shape shifter!” I stormed past him with my head held high, the sting of his rejection bringing tears to my eyes. I stomped out the cave and into the woods. I heard him call behind me to come back because the woods weren’t safe at night, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get away from him and his hurtful words. He didn’t want me, I fumed as I pushed branches away from my face and tripped over stones and logs in the darkness.
13
Anya Bast
Prince Albert Von Dinkenburger didn’t want me. Nor did Prince Hepplebottom, or any of the other suitors that the dragon had stolen and allowed to start new lives…away from me. Tears stung my eyes. Was I really so horrid? Was I really so repulsive? Had all the bards lied in their flattering songs? I tripped over an exposed root and nearly fell, so distracted was I by my sudden crisis of self-identity. Finally, I found my mount in a clearing, munching grass by the silver moonlight. “Coward,” I muttered at him as I climbed atop the beast, found the stirrups and headed him back home.
14
Getting Slayed
Chapter Two I didn’t tell my father of the shape shifting dragon or my attempts to slay him. I told him instead a story of a faulty lock and long ride through the forest to blow off steam over the latest fiancé-charring. I begged and pleaded with my father not to allow nurse to put the belt back on. I cried and cajoled and then finally used reason, saying that all the eligible men in the realm were now gone and there was no one for me to seduce. My father had rattled off the names of the castle baker, the stable boys, the physician and even the executioner. As if! He told me that when I lost my virginity, it would be to the man who would be my husband and none other. The belt had gone back on. One month of moping and I’d awoken to a royal decree. The first man to slay the dragon would gain my hand in marriage. He would garner the title of prince and obtain land and gold. Eventually, he would become king and rule at my side. A higher reward had never been set for the head of a dragon, and since the decree many a would-be slayer had died trying to gain it. I should’ve been happy, but all I could see were Marcus’ whiskey-colored eyes and the twist of his gorgeous lips. He hated me, yet the last thing I wanted was to see him harmed. Not even the prospect of finally losing both the belt and my pesky virginity were enough to console me. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Perhaps I really had gone insane from a lack of sex. Now I sat at my father’s left hand, the chain metal of my new chastity belt chafing my skin as I shifted in the bejeweled throne. The sunlight from beyond the walls of the receiving chamber glimmered in from the stained glass windows. I turned my gaze skyward, staring out past the panes of green and gold, wondering if the dragon named Marcus flew the skies right now, wondering if he might be hunting a slayer. “Darrion the Brave,” intoned the herald. I sighed. It sounded like yet another hopeful dragon slayer. Marcus would have him charred to a crisp by noontime, most likely. The dragon hadn’t been merely displacing those who meant him harm, he’d been charring them. I let my gaze wander with boredom to the next item on Marcus’ menu. Whoa. I sat up a little straighter in my chair, my eyes widening. A piece of beefcake supreme stood before me, looking all delicious and edible in his purple silken doublet and tight hose. I drew a sharp breath as I perused him from head to toe. He had a really big spear. 15
Anya Bast
That is, he held a really big spear in one capable-looking hand. Darrion the Brave bowed low and rose gracefully, inclining his head first toward my father and then toward me. I noticed the square set of his jaw and the cleft in his chin. I noticed the dark hair that fell artfully around his handsome face, and that when he smiled his perfectly white teeth gleamed. “My lord,” Darrion intoned in a manly voice. “I have heard of the challenge you have issued for the hand of your,” he turned and favored me with a smile that I swear sparkled, “lovely daughter. I heard about the decree far from here, across the wastes of the Kingdom of Akmatt and over the Great Blue Sea. I am the greatest dragon slayer there ever was, and I intend to lay waste to the creature that now scourges your land.” Well, he certainly didn’t have any lack of self-confidence. “This is very powerful dragon, Sir Darrion,” my father answered. “I am no sir, Your Grace,” Darrion said. “Only a common man born with a lust to spill dragon blood.” “As you say. If you slay this dragon, you’ll be worthy to be a prince and eventually a king. I simply wish you to know that the dragon has already barbequed many slayers who have made the same claim. Understand the risk you run.” Darrion pulled a chain from beneath his doublet. It rattled with many large, ferocious looking teeth. “This speaks for itself, does it not?” “Err, I suppose so,” replied my father in a voice of awe. “Know that if you bring me the head of this dragon, you will win the hand of Princess Jeweline.” Darrion turned his gaze toward me and I instantly felt undressed. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. It did not make me feel aroused as it had when Marcus had done that trick. It just made me feel kind of…slimy. Darrion bowed low, then straightened. He held my gaze steadily as he said, “That is indeed my intention, Your Grace.” “Go in peace and, uh, may you shed blood,” my father dismissed him. Darrion turned and exited the royal receiving chamber. My father patted my hand. “I feel you have just met your husband, daughter. I anticipate that beast’s head mounted out in front of the castle in short order.” Panic shot through me. Could it be that Darrion might succeed? He certainly did appear to have experience slaying dragons. What if…? I shuddered. No, I couldn’t even bear to think of Marcus’ head mounted in the courtyard, even if it was his reptilian one. I had to warn him. That night, I snuck out of my chambers just as soon as the moon was up and ventured back into the woods. By the time I reached the dragon’s lair, Marcus had already shifted. I could see him from where I stood at the mouth of the cave. His broad back was to me as he stood in front of his fire. From this angle, the flames seemed to lick at his body. Shadows danced on the walls. 16
Getting Slayed
“Fiery-haired princess,” he said without turning. “You’ve come back. Are you certain that’s wise?” Frowning, I pushed back the hood of my black cloak. “How did you know it was me?” He turned. “You smell of hyacinth.” “Oh.” His gaze raked my body and I suddenly felt nude despite the heavy cloak. My nipples stiffened, and I grew very sensitive of the fact that he was a man and I was a woman. Darrion couldn’t elicit such a reaction in me, but the dragon he sought to slay could. He paused for a moment before speaking. “Why have you come?” I took a step forward, remembering my mission. “You must leave these parts, Marcus. My father has offered my hand to the man who can kill you. His announcement is luring the best dragon slayers from around the world. Soon you will come up against one you cannot defeat.” Marcus took a step toward me. The small smile I’d been fantasizing about twisted his lips. “Ah. That explains all the men who seek to kill me of late.” “There is one, Darrion the Brave, he seems very set on winning my hand and is proven many times over in slaying,” I said with concern clear in my voice. For several moments, he said nothing. He only regarded me with a curious and heated look on his face. I shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. Did he not comprehend my warning? “Truly, I fear for you,” I said. “You must leave so you will not be harmed. I have no wish to see your head mounted in the castle courtyard.” “But if I am killed, you will be married. Your virginity will be no more,” he answered. “These are your heart’s desires, are they not?” “That’s true, and yet I will not have you harmed to obtain them.” Again with the curious and heated gaze. I wanted to scream at him. Finally, he said, “These men want you for your lands, for your status as princess.” It sounded more like a statement than a question. “They want you for your claim.” “Yes,” I answered. He licked his lips and lifted his chin at me. “Wouldn’t you rather have a man who wanted to be with you for you?” he asked silkily. “Someone who appreciated the swell of your bosom and the sweet curve of your hip? Someone who loved the fire in your hair and appreciated it in your heart as well?” “Uh,” was all I could say at the smoky hot look in his eyes. “Someone who loved you? Saw you for who you really are? A fiery, beautiful, giving, compassionate pain in the ass?” He took another step toward me, and then
17
Anya Bast
another. My heart skipped a beat. “How could you be satisfied with a man who only wants you for your lands, your dowry and the title that comes with you?” “That’s a-a duty of a princess,” I said breathlessly. “I’m bred to accept such.” “Duty?” He stopped in front of me, reached out and fingered a tendril of my hair. “Perhaps you’re not as spoiled as I’d presumed, my princess so fair. You haven’t commanded me to fuck you once since you’ve arrived,” he finished speculatively. I closed my eyes momentarily, enjoying his hot breath on my cheek and the heat that rolled off him like a full-body kiss. “I didn’t come here for that.” Though fucking him didn’t sound so bad… He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. “What if I commanded you to take off your gown for me right now, princess, would you do it? What if I commanded you to let me take off that prison you’re wearing and part your sweet thighs? What if I commanded you to let me lower my head and lick up your honey, lick until I make you scream?” My nipples grew erect and sensitive and every breath I took rubbed them against the material of my bodice. But…. I frowned. There was something wrong. I fought through the haze of my passion and became suspicious. “You don’t like me. You’re just making fun of me. You-you’re cruel to tease me this way.” I tried to back away, but he grabbed my upper arms. “I never said I didn’t like you, Jeweline. I said you were spoiled and I would not be commanded by you.” I raised my chin, ready with a retort, but he raised my skirts and melted the lock on my belt. The action seemed to steal all my words and breath along with them. The hated chain mail smallclothes fell away. Next off was my cloak. He hefted me into his arms. “What are you doing?” I cried in alarm. He was so strong. It was as though I weighed nothing. It felt both exhilarating and unnerving at the same time. He sat down in the chair near the fire and placed me on his lap. I started to get up and move away, but he held me fast against him, one hand on my hip and the other fisted gently in the hair at the nape of my neck. “I never said I didn’t like you,” he repeated softly as he guided my mouth to his. Heaven. Oh, sweet heaven. His mouth was hot and his lips skillful. He parted my lips easily and swept his tongue within to tangle with mine. I whimpered low in my throat as his hand strayed to the ties of my bodice and undid them. I felt the air on my bare breasts and then, blessedly, his hand. He cupped one of them and rolled the nipple between his fingers. The sensation shot a rod of pure longing to my cunt. I ached between my thighs so fiercely. I almost hurt from years of needing to be fucked. I ground my hips down and gasped as I felt the long, hard length of his cock stabbing into me. Desperately, I fought the pleadings that rose up in my throat. I would not beg him. I would not.
18
Getting Slayed
Suddenly, I found myself facedown across his lap, my skirts thrown up over my head. I heard him groan, then felt the hard slap of his open palm against my buttocks. I gasped in surprise and indignation and felt the cheek he’d tapped redden. Heat spread out from where he’d spanked me, warming my cunt and drawing moisture from it. Pleasure came with the heat and the slight sting of it. I moaned low, unable to stem the sound. “I said you were spoiled,” Marcus said, right before spanking me again. I gasped again, though this time it was less from surprise than it was from pleasure. My clit pulsed and my cunt throbbed. I squirmed in his lap, filled with urgent, erotic need, but he kept me still. “So pretty,” he murmured. He rubbed the sensitive cheek and then dipped his fingers down to tease my aching pussy. He found it hot and eager to be stroked. “This makes you wet,” he purred. “You have such a pretty cunt, my princess. So sweet.” His voice sounded ragged and aroused. It, in turn, aroused me even more. “Spread your thighs for me a bit more.” Lost in a place where I could barely think, I did as he asked. He rewarded me by brushing his finger against my needy opening. He stroked me, drawing circles around my swollen clit and between my aroused labia. I couldn’t stop myself from bucking on his lap. He held me mostly immobile, one strong hand on my back, the other delving between my spread thighs, dipping into my honey, driving me crazy. “What do you want, my princess?” he purred. He breached the opening of my cunt with a fingertip and I moaned. The muscles of my pussy clamped down hard and needy around his digit. “Do you want me to take you? Your father would have my head off, I think, whether I were a dragon or not.” I moaned and bucked again, trying to fuck his finger. “You may just be worth it, however,” Marcus murmured. He speared his finger deep into the heart of me. I cried out at the exquisite pleasure of it. “No maidenhead?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Riding,” I managed to gasp. My maidenhead had broken long ago. Riding my horse had done it, according to the castle physician. My virginity had been monitored monthly since the age of my feminine flowering. “Mmmm, what have you been riding, my princess?” he asked in a low voice. He added a second finger to the first and eased them in and out of my cunt. Pleasure flirted hard with me, ebbing and flowing and growing greater and greater. “Please,” I sobbed, not really understanding what it was I wanted. I’d promised not to beg, but found the word tumbling from my lips despite myself. “Please? You beg me, princess? Do you want to come? Shall I allow it?” “Please! Harder, faster,” I gasped.
19
Anya Bast
“Like this?” He thrust his thick fingers in and out of me faster and harder, as I’d requested, until I could almost make believe it was his cock inside me. The pleasure crested and broke over me. I screamed as it took me full-force. My cries echoed through the cave and I bucked frantically in Marcus’ lap, soaking his hand as I came. When the waves had passed, I lay limp across his lap. He stroked my sex idly, teasing me until I squirmed. “I never knew,” I gasped. My first climax. I could barely speak I was so overwhelmed. I wanted another. Marcus made a noise as though something tasted good. I turned my head enough to look at him and saw him licking my juice from his fingers. For some reason, the sight was incredibly erotic. He found me delicious. My breath caught in my throat. “So sweet,” he groaned. “You’re so tight, hot, and sweet. I want more of you. You’re worth losing my head over.” He lifted me and lay me down on his makeshift bed—a thin mattress covered with blankets by the fire. He worked the ties of my gown until he had the whole garment off me. I lay with the air bathing my skin and Marcus’ hot gaze roving over me. His eyes and the expression on his face clearly said he found me as beautiful dressed in only the cool cave air as he found me in my silks. His gaze still on me, he drew his shirt over his head, tossed it aside, then unbuttoned his trews and slid them down and off. I stifled a whimper at his lovely cock and my fingers curled once again, aching to touch it. This time I might actually get the chance. For a moment, he looked down at me speculatively. Then, encircling one of my ankles with his huge hand, he pulled me toward him. He eased himself down over my body and my skin slid against his like satin on satin. I groaned somewhere from the center of my being. He felt so good against me. “You never should’ve come back, princess. You should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to resist you a second time.” I bristled. “You seemed to resist quite well the first time.” “I’m a good actor,” he murmured before he slanted his mouth over mine and plunged his tongue between my lips. A fire started between my thighs that Marcus used his fingers to feed. He stroked over my clit and damp folds with a sure, masterful ease that stole my breath. He seemed to know exactly where to touch me. I moaned into his mouth and gripped his broad shoulders, feeling drunk on the feel of him against me, feeling helpless against his tongue in my mouth and the press of his hard cock against the juncture of my thighs. It seemed like he was asking a very serious question, one I very much wanted to answer.
20
Getting Slayed
Just as I was ready to explode in climax once more, Marcus released my lips and placed his mouth down further. I wriggled with surprised pleasure and gave a little squeak of alarm. He grabbed onto my hips, holding my thighs spread and locked, so I couldn’t close my legs. And he feasted. I arched my back as his skillful tongue lapped and licked my cunt. Never had I known such a thing possible and, if I had, I never would’ve guessed how good it would feel. He toyed with my clit with the tip of his tongue, and then laved my labia. Over and over, he licked me. I felt ready to scream. When I finally exploded, I did it in his mouth. As the tremors rocked my sex, he speared his tongue deep into the center of me, right where a cock should go. I nearly screamed from the exquisite intensity of being so filled, and by a tongue as skillful as his. Keeping my thighs spread wide apart by his strong hands, he laved over my cunt again and again and again. I thought I would surely die of pleasure. When my body had come so often and so hard that I felt limp, Marcus kissed me hard. I tasted myself on his tongue and loved it. Twining my arms around his shoulders, I whimpered and deepened the kiss, rubbing as much of my body against his as I could. I felt the head of his cock kiss my entrance. My hips bucked at the contact, and I speared my tongue into his mouth to rub against his. I tried to resist, but I couldn’t help it. I ground my hips up, seeking Marcus’ cock within me. He slipped inside. I threw my head back and moaned as his body rocked softly against mine, driving his cock within to fit like hand to glove. God, it felt so good. I felt stretched and filled up with him. It was even better when he eased himself out and thrust back in, setting up an easy rhythm that soon sent me to a place where I could barely think. I could do nothing but toss my head, moan and grasp his shoulders. I canted my hips up on natural instinct, searching to meet him thrust for thrust. He buried his face in my neck and scattered kisses on my skin. “So sweet,” he murmured drunkenly. “So hot and sweet. You feel so good.” I came twice more as his cock moved piston-like in and out of my eager slit. By the time he spilled himself on my belly—something I was supremely happy he’d had the presence of mind for—I was ready to faint dead away from the sated lethargy that had stolen over my body. I would ache sweetly from the encounter, I could already tell. I wanted my dragon to cause more ache before this night came to an end. I gave a soft, tired laugh as Marcus cleaned his seed from my stomach with a rag. “My dragon,” I murmured.
21
Anya Bast
I felt the soft slide of a blanket over me. A moment later, his body cuddled mine. “My princess,” he murmured in response and kissed my cheek. I slept. When I awoke, a small bonfire had begun between my thighs. I felt slick and needy there. Marcus suckled my breast, I realized in the same moment. His finger deftly stroked my clit between my spread thighs. I wriggled beneath him in delicious pleasure and moaned. Slowly, surely, he brought me to climax under the ministrations of his fingers and tongue. After the waves had receded, I wondered how many times a woman could orgasm in one night. I wanted to find out. As I lay breathing heavily, Marcus settled himself beside me. His cock shot up hard and rigid into the air. I turned on my side, resting my chin on his chest and wrapped my fingers around the length. He shuddered as I gently stroked him from his balls to the smooth head of his shaft. The fire had burned itself almost to ash, though dawn had not yet broken outside the mouth of the cave. “I know almost nothing about you,” I said softly. “Tell me of yourself. Tell me how you became what you are.” Marcus remained quiet for several moments before he finally spoke. “I have been cursed for a hundred years, my princess.” I gasped and removed my hand. I propped myself up on my elbows and stared at him. “You jest!” He shook his head solemnly. “I bedded the daughter of a witch. I took the young woman’s maidenhead and planted a child in her belly, a bastard child. In retribution, the witch cursed me to my current half-life.” He sighed wearily. “There is a way for me to regain my full humanity, but the witch never did see fit to tell me and she and her daughter are long dead.” I settled back down and set once again to stroking his cock. I couldn’t keep my hands from him. “What of your child?” “He lives far from here, across the Great Blue Sea. He is old now, my son. I wish I could’ve known him. The witch stole all from me.” His voice held a heavy note of sorrow. “I loved the girl, though she was no highborn. I would’ve done everything I could to marry her, though it’s true such a prospect was bleak.” “Why?” “I was a prince and betrothed to another. A loveless political alliance.” Shocked, I again rose up on my elbows to look into his eyes. “A prince?” “Aye. I was prince of the Kingdom of Elbay, across the sea. I am a prince no more, though, only a dragon.” I felt badly for him. He’d bedded the woman he’d loved only to gain a lifetime of loneliness and sorrow. He’d traded one night of happiness for an eternity of grief. I planted a lingering kiss on his lips. “A fierce dragon,” I murmured. “My dragon. By
22
Getting Slayed
stealing my fiancés, you saved me from a lifetime of horrible sex, I suspect, and replaced it with a night of pure wonder. For that, I thank you.” He cupped my face and kissed me deeply. “So help me, your father will have my head for certain, but I would have more of you.” His voice shook with emotion. He kissed me until I couldn’t see straight and the cave itself seemed to spin. He broke the kiss finally and I licked my lips. They felt swollen and probably looked red. “I want you again,” I whispered. His hand cupped my mound and I shivered with pleasure. “Are you not sore?” he asked. “Mmmm. I am. I would that you make me sorer.” His pupils went dark and then seemed to explode, the black center consuming the amber. With a growl-like sound in his throat, he kissed me again. He pulled me against his body and fisted his hands in my hair. I trembled against him in anticipation. I stroked my hungry fingers up and down his length, and a low groan of desire bubbled up from the back his throat. Pre-come beaded the plum-shaped tip his cock. I spread it over the crown, massaging it into his smooth skin and reveling in its slickness. At the same time, I nuzzled his throat, enjoying the masculine scent of him and hard brush of his stubble against my lips. He pulled me underneath him and covered my body with his. When he lowered his mouth to my breast, I felt the rub of his muscled stomach against mine. I twined my hands in the hair at his nape as he sucked one of my eager, hard nipples between his sensual lips. He groaned in the back of his throat as he teased the nipple back and forth with the tip of his skillful tongue. I knew now just how very skillful it was. At the same time, he parted my thighs and slid a finger deep inside me. I gasped and arched my back as he eased it in and out of my slick heat. He raised his head and stared at me with those dark eyes. “I’m going to fuck this sweet pussy so well you’ll need a week to recover,” he rasped. I shivered, the coarseness of his words sending fingers of wicked pleasure dancing up my spine. I moaned as he added a second finger to the slow, easy thrust in and out of my cunt. He twisted them until he brushed his fingertips against some spot that had me instantly dancing on the edge of a climax. All the while, his thumb softly teased my clit. He kissed me again, taking my mouth in a near bruising kiss as his hand worked between my spread thighs, driving my desire higher and higher. His tongue speared between my lips, tangling savagely with my tongue as we fought each other, dueling with each other. He shifted and I felt the press of his cock against the slick folds of my pussy. I spread my thighs wantonly as far as I could get them, eager to have him inside me. I fought a rising whimper as the head of his cock teased my tender entrance.
23
Anya Bast
“Take me, Marcus,” I murmured against his lips. “Please.” He surged into me, hilting himself to the base of his cock. My spine arched involuntarily as a climax overwhelmed my body. I’d danced on the edge of it for so long. Being filled with him made it explode immediately. My body trembled and shook from the force of the pleasurable spasms that racked it. Marcus slowly eased his length in and out of my pussy, lubricated well by my juices. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and groaned, “So good.” Then he reached down, grabbed my buttocks with his broad, powerful hands and began to thrust into my body in earnest. I sank my fingers into his shoulder and dug my nails in, reveling in the long, hard strokes with which he favored my eager cunt. My whole world had narrowed to this man’s possession of my body. I would have it no other way. He rose up and grasped my wrists. He raised them over my head and pinned them to the blanket, so I was stretched out beneath him, unable to move. The sensation of being restrained by him aroused me even more. He stared down at me while he slid his cock in and out of me. The weight and intensity of his gaze mesmerized me. I couldn’t have looked away even if I’d desired it. “Princess, you feel like heaven,” he groaned. “So tight around my cock. So hot and so sweet.” Marcus lowered his mouth to my nipple and rasped his teeth over the hardened nub. It made me climax again. I cried out, feeling the muscles of my pussy milk and pull at his cock. When the orgasm had loosened its hold on me, I lay limp for a moment, my heart pounding. It appeared I was making up for all those sexless years. He pulled free of my body “Turn over, princess.” I didn’t move. “Turn over?” He stared at me with half-hooded eyes. “On your stomach.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering why he would want me thus. Finally, I did as he’d asked. He grasped me by my waist and pulled me to my knees. “Part your gorgeous thighs as far as you can.” I did and felt utterly, deliciously exposed to him. At his mercy. I put my head down to the blanket and raised my hips, letting him have a full view of my aroused sex. His fingers traced my swollen folds. “So pretty.” He eased a finger within me from behind, then added a second and began to fuck me with them. “Ah, Marcus,” I moaned into the blankets. I was starting to see the advantage of this position. The penetration was much deeper. I felt the slick head of his cock pressed against my opening in place of his fingers. He pushed into me and came down over me back. I felt the hard, perspiration-slicked expanse of his chest against my spine. “Slow and easy, my princess, or fast and hard? How would you have me?” “Fast, hard,” I gasped. 24
Getting Slayed
He rose up and dug his fingers into my hips, driving his cock into my wet, suctioning flesh. Every stroke reverberated through my body. I rose up, laying my hands flat on the blanket, and pushed back at him, driving his thick cock into me as deep as it could go. He dipped his fingers down, coating them in my slippery juices, and then rubbed them over my clit. He stroked relentlessly with the pads of his fingers as he took me from behind. My hips bucked and I moaned loudly. He continued to work my clit, stroking it again and again until I screamed out his name in a climax that near robbed me of consciousness. My orgasm tipped Marcus into his. I felt him pull out and spurt on my buttocks as he groaned out his pleasure. My knees no longer able to support me, I collapsed face-first to the blanket. A few moments later, after Marcus had cleaned his seed from my skin, I felt him turn me over. “The day soon dawns, my princess,” he said softly. “I will soon shift, and I cannot send you back to your castle in such disarray.” His voice sounded rich and warm, and held a note of amusement. I probably looked well loved to him. I certainly felt well loved. He brushed a tendril of my hair away from my face, and then lifted me. He carried me out of the cave to a swift-flowing stream in the nearby woods and washed me with a bar of strong soap. We kissed and teased each other in the hip-high water. We nuzzled and cooed at each other like a man and woman in the first rosy-hued throes of love. I was quickly coming to care deeply for this dragon. He was so strong and dominant, yet so gentle and considerate at the same time. There was a depth and complexity to this man that I had not seen upon our first meeting. He intrigued me. I wanted more time to unravel the secrets of him, to get to know him better. He and I had chemistry. I suspected that our relationship, given time, could flourish into a deep and abiding love. It saddened me to know that we would probably never have the opportunity to see where our feelings for each other might lead us. Marcus dressed me by the embers of the dying fire, and welded me back into the dreaded chastity belt so well I doubted nurse would ever suspect a thing. He laid a gentle kiss upon my lips and fingered a lock of my hair. “I could come to love you, I think,” he murmured. “And I, you.” A look of sadness overcame his features. “If only I weren’t a dragon.” I sighed. “If only I weren’t a princess. I would stay in your cave and wait for you to return to me every night.” I favored him with a forlorn smile. He hesitated, as though about to say something. He pursed his lips. “And this Darrion, is he good man? Would he make you a good match?”
25
Anya Bast
I shrugged. “He is handsome, strong, brave and young. A princess could be less lucky. However he does not make me feel the way you make me feel, and he wants me for my royal claim and nothing else.” “But would he treat you well?” I shrugged. “He is insufferably egoistical, I think, but I have no reason to think he would not treat me well.” He stroked his chin, deep in thought. “As you say, a princess could be less lucky.” Fear spiked through the center of me. He would never sacrifice himself to the slayer on purpose in order to settle me with a half-decent man, would he? No…why would he make such a gallant gesture for me? I embraced Marcus. “Let us hope his luck fails him when he comes after you, shall we? I could not bear to see you harmed,” I finished hoarsely, tears pricking my eyes. It was too true that he’d claimed part of my heart in a very short time. I wanted many more nights to spend with him, getting to know every part of him and allowing him to know me. The thought of him hurt in any way clenched like a knot of coldness in my stomach. I closed my eyes and held him tighter. A ray of morning light shining in through the mouth of the cave made me open my eyes. I felt Marcus’ body quiver. He drew a deep breath. I backed up, thinking I understood what might be happening. Shimmering enveloped Marcus’ body as he stood before me. The silver waves of magick obscured exactly what was occurring to his body, but I could tell he was transforming. The shimmering cleared and Marcus the dragon stood in front of me. Now that I knew what he was half the time, he did not frighten me so very much. I reached out and stroked one of his green and gold scales. He spread his massive gossamer wings, tipped his head back and blew fire out his nostrils. It hit the ceiling of the cave, startling me. I staggered backward and ended up my ass. The dragon pawed the ground once, nodded his head at me, then turned and walked out the cave. I noted the singed ceiling and the heat that hung around me, then bolted to my feet and followed him. I arrived at the mouth of the cave just in time to see the dragon take to the air with powerful strokes of his wings. He circled the cave once, and then flew to the north. I hoped he planned to travel far from here today.
26
Getting Slayed
Chapter Three Darrion tangled with the dragon and lost for five straight days. Every one of them was hell for me. Each day, I fretted and worried and paced in the confines of my chambers morning to evening. My maids danced on the fine edge of my temper as I awaited news of the day’s conquest. The dragon never charbroiled Darrion. He and the dragon seemed evenly matched. My father thought I fretted because I feared marriage to Darrion. No matter how hard I tried, I could not dissuade him from the misconception. I told my father that the dragon was a shape shifter. That I knew for certain this was the case. I told him that it would be murder Darrion would be committing. I begged and pleaded for my father to demand that Darrion cease his conquest, but my father only furrowed his brow at me in worry and sent the castle psychologist to attend me. I felt hopeless and powerless. The nights were far better. Every night I traded castle for cave to spend time with my dragon. Every night he made love to me sweeter than the night before. Every night I grew to love him even more. Some nights we spent talking for the most part, or cuddling. One night Marcus had found a ripe peach and we’d mock-wrestled for it. The wrestling had turned into something more carnal and we’d forgotten the fruit for a time. After we’d sated ourselves, Marcus had fed me the peach slice by luscious slice and I thought I’d never tasted anything so sweet. I sighed and drummed my fingers on the stone window casing of the solar. The day had dawned bright and full of sunshine. I was very tired since I was not getting much sleep these nights, but I couldn’t drowse during the day knowing that Darrion might return to the castle with Marcus’ head. I shuddered at the thought. Someone entered the chamber and I turned to see the slayer himself. My teeth on edge at the mere sight of him, I inclined my head in greeting. Darrion bowed and then went to one knee before me. He clasped my hand in his. “Today is the day,” he said with a confident smirk that I wanted to knock away with my fist. “What did you mean, kind sir?” I asked with my head tipped to the side and a false smile spread across my lips.
27
Anya Bast
“I have hired a large dragon net made and five strong men to aid me in wielding it. I will have his head today, my princess.” I withdrew my hand. I stood there stunned for a moment with a fake smile pasted across my mouth. He wouldn’t notice my smile was false. Marcus would, but not this one. This one was far too in love with himself to notice anything like that about another person. He babbled on about his prowess and cunning and how he wanted the entire realm to see him slay the dragon. He wanted the bards to sing of his conquest. I listened to every slimy word with rapt attention. Luckily, Darrion liked to hear himself speak. I got all the details I needed. No way was I going to stand by and allow him to trick the dragon into death. I let a vapid expression linger on my face all the while I plotted. He reached out and took my hand once more. I flinched, but recovered my courtesy in enough time not to offend him or make him suspicious. Darrion kissed the back of my hand lingeringly. He raised his eyes suggestively as he did it. I felt my skin get up and try to walk away at the erotic promise in his gaze. Finally, he released my hand and backed away. He made a sweeping bow. “Soon, my lady,” he said. “I can hardly wait,” I replied, almost choking on the words. He turned and left the room. I waited for a moment, to make sure he was gone. In that moment, I mused about how if I’d never met Marcus, I would’ve swooned at that look in Darrion’s eyes. Now Marcus’ touch was the only one I craved. How different my life would be if I’d never tried to slay the dragon. When I was certain that Darrion had left, I slipped out of the ladies solar and back to my chambers. Quickly, I traded my silks for a pair of trews and a heavy shirt for which I’d given a stable boy good coppers. It was easier to slip out at night dressed thus. I tied my hair back in a knot and proceeded to sneak carefully out the servant’s entrance of the castle and made my way to the field where Darrion had said he planned to trap the dragon. A crowd had gathered in the open area. Darrion’s men had made announcements in the village square. The presence of all these people would surely draw the dragon’s interest. That was part of Darrion’s plan. I wondered if my father and his men would also show themselves. A roaring and beating of wings filled the air and I looked up to see the dragon swooping low over the field. I could see fire burning in the back of his throat. The beast’s strong green and gold wings beat the air and his tail whipped angrily as it banked to the left and rose higher into the sky. Around me, the people gasped and screamed. Some cowered, others fled.
28
Getting Slayed
The dragon swooped low for another pass and I glimpsed movement in the tree line. Probably close to twenty men rushed out from the trees bearing a huge net. Before I had time to voice the scream of horror birthing itself from the back of my throat, the men had snagged the dragon. The beast screamed in rage at the same time I screamed. A bellow of smoke and fire rolled out from the dragon’s mouth, burning a hole through the net, but it wasn’t enough to free him. His magnificent wings flapped as he tried to rise higher into the sky, but they were caught in the netting. Instead, he plummeted to the ground. I watched in horror as the dragon hit the earth in the center of the field and began to thrash. Darrion rode out from a nearby stand of trees with my father’s banners flying. He rode with a spear in one hand and a sheathed sword glimmering in the morning sunlight. He rode like a prince, or a conquering warrior. If I didn’t do something, he’d soon be just that. Spurred by the thought, I pushed through the throng and ran full tilt toward the dragon and Darrion. I watched with dread clutching my heart as Darrion raised his spear and thrust it into the writhing dragon. The dragon screamed again, fire shooting from its mouth, missing Darrion by a just a breath’s space. The dragon sounded as if it were in pain. Oh, no. “No!” I screamed. “No!” Tears blinded my vision as I ran. I reached the dragon as Darrion was raising his spear for the second time. I noted queerly that dragon blood dripped from the point as I pushed my way between the dragon and his would-be slayer mid-strike. I saw the tip of the spear flash down toward me. I cringed, but shielded the dragon all the same. I was ready to die to protect Marcus. I felt the sharp point rip through my upper arm. Pain exploded and hot blood welled. I screamed in agony, put my other hand over the wound the spear had made and sank to my knees. For a moment all was confusion. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to pass out. Hot blood dripped between my fingers, soaking through the material of the rough-spun tunic I wore. I heard Darrion step back and drop the spear on the grass. “Princess Jeweline?” he asked in a confused tone of voice. I looked up at him in a haze of pain. Behind me the thrashing of the dragon ceased and all went quiet. Darrion gasped. The entire crowd echoed him, and then rippled with muted conversation. I felt the touch of a warm, strong hand on my shoulder. “Jeweline,” said Marcus.
29
Anya Bast
I gasped and turned around. Marcus lay tangled in the netting where the dragon had once been. A wound marked his upper arm in almost the exact same place where I had one. My first thought was that we’d have matching scars. My second thought was that it was daylight. I looked up at the sky. “But I don’t understand.” Marcus reached through the netting and pulled my face toward his. He kissed me long and well. So well I forgot about the pain in my arm. I forgot about the gathered crowd and Darrion, who all stood watching us. We broke the kiss and he bussed his lips against my forehead. “The curse is broken.” “But how?” He smiled and nodded at my wound. “You were ready to sacrifice your life for mine. I suspect that’s what broke the curse.” He hesitated. “You love me…as I love you.” I kissed him. “I do. I do love you very much.” I was crying again, but my tears had nothing to do with my wound. “Jeweline,” came my father’s sharp voice. “Darrion. What is going on?” I turned my tear-stained face toward my father. Castle physicians rushed in. One knelt by me and the other helped Marcus free himself from the netting so they could treat and bandage his arm. “You see, Father, I told you the dragon was a man, but you didn’t believe me.” The words tumbled from my lips. “He was cursed, but now that’s over. He’s a man for all time now.” I paused. “I love him, Father, and he loves me. He’s a good man and would make a good king. He has the heart of a dragon.” My father looked stern. He said nothing in response to my declaration. My heart sank. “You love the dragon?” asked Darrion incredulously. “Yes.” I answered without hesitation. “With all my being.” I looked at my father and pointed at Darrion. “Father, he stabbed me.” The set of my father’s face became more severe than I’d ever seen it. “I saw. So did half the village thanks to Darrion’s pride. That poses a problem.” Darrion immediately held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t know it was her, my lord. I swear it. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I thought her only some simpleminded doxy from the village.” His eyes grew wide and his mouth snapped shut as he realized he was likely making things worse. “All the same, the villagers saw you and I must make an example of you. I can’t let those who harm my only daughter go unpunished, no matter the circumstances in which it occurred. You are hereby banished from the kingdom of Hask, Darrion.” Darrion hung his head. I almost felt sorry for him and his big ego. He lost the dragon and the chance at kingship. 30
Getting Slayed
“As for you,” my father said, looking down at me. “You say you love this man?” “I do.” I looked at the ground. “I have been sneaking out at night to meet him, Father. I’m sorry.” My father remained silent. I grew nervous and fidgeted so much under my father’s gaze that the physician who was treating my arm lost his grasp. Marcus stood. “My lord, I must apologize for encouraging your daughter to come and visit me. Her beauty and her charm blinded me. I was blinded by my growing love for her. If you wish to behead me, I will go willingly. I deserve no less.” My father harrumphed and remained silent. I hung my head. “Well,” my father said at last, “at least you are an honest man and seem to be no fop. You have a strong heart, I can see. The heart of a dragon, as my daughter said. You and Jeweline will no doubt produce strong, determined offspring, considering how pigheaded my daughter is.” My head snapped up. “Father?” My father smiled at me. “I trust your judgment more than you think, my daughter. He will make a good king.” My father nodded. “Marry the dragon.” My heart sang with joy. I stood, now with a bandaged arm. Marcus swung me into his arms, laughing. We kissed each other deeply with the entire world looking on. The herald who had accompanied my father to the field blew his trumpet. “Introducing the Princess Jeweline and her fiancé, Marcus Dragonheart!” The villagers cheered and my heart filled with happiness. I’d found true love with the dragon I’d wanted to slay. Life is stranger than we’ll ever know.
31
About the Author Anya Bast is a multipublished erotic fantasy & paranormal romance author. Primarily, she writes happily-ever-afters with lots of steamy sex. After all, happily-everafters with lots of sex are the very best kind. She enjoys the study of Celtic myth, dreaming, and shamanism and incorporates what she learns into her paranormal stories. Anya got her start writing fantasy romance. Since writing a little hotter seemed to come naturally to her, she had no trouble making the move to erotic romance. She loves writing books that are heavy on plot, emotion and character development, and also have spicy, no-holds-barred sex scenes. Exploring the elements of dark sexual fantasy in her writing is what Anya does best. She lives in the country with her husband. They share their lives with eight cats and one perplexed dog. Anya welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Anya Bast And Lady Makes Three anthology Blood of an Angel Blood of the Damned Blood of the Raven Blood of the Rose Edge of Sweetness Ordinary Charm Seasons of Pleasure: A Change of Season Seasons of Pleasure: Autumn Pleasures: The Union Seasons of Pleasure: Spring Pleasures: The Transformation Seasons of Pleasure: Summer Pleasures: The Capture Seasons of Pleasure: Winter Pleasures: The Training Seduced In Twilight Tempted by Two Water Crystal
STING OF THE WIND Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Chapter One Soft, slow licks accompanied by the gentle rasp of his teeth trailed up Shannon’s right thigh to send shivers of intense pleasure up her side. His warm breath fanned across the core of her as his nose slid along the thatch of golden curls and he began to work his way down her other thigh. Gripping handfuls of the sheet beneath her— twisting them in her throes of delights—she arched her head back and shuddered as he lifted her leg and touched the tip of his tongue to the crease behind her knee, spiraling lightning flicks of wetness on the tender flesh. With her breath shuddering in her chest, blood throbbing wildly in her veins, she was completely at his mercy. He positioned himself between her legs—nudging her thighs farther apart with his broad shoulders—and placed the palm of his hand on her heated center. “Ah,” Shannon sighed, squirming against the warmth of his skin against her. He pressed harder, his fingers flexing on her mound. Grinding the heel of his hand on her, he lowered his head to place his lips to her navel. Lapping at the deep indention, he rolled his tongue around and around the perimeter of her belly button until she was writhing, pulling at the sheet in her clenched hand. “Relax,” he whispered then licked his way from her navel to the silken forest above her sheath. Relaxing wasn’t on her agenda, Shannon thought, and she doubted she could. He was torturing her so sweetly, so expertly. Every move he made was calculated to drive her mindless with desire. “Shae, please,” she begged, wriggling her hips beneath the heat of his palm pushing against her. “You want me to tie you down?” he asked in a soft voice. She whipped her head back and forth on the pillow. “No.” “Are you sure?” he asked. “I can spread-eagle you to the bed and—” “No!” she gasped, her belly muscles contracting at his firm words. “Then lie still and relax,” he ordered. “I’m only just beginning.” A low moan escaped Shannon’s trembling mouth. If this was just the beginning, she didn’t think she could see it through to the end. Pivoting his palm on her until his fingers were grazing the wetness between her thighs, he flicked the nail of his middle finger over her clit, sending waves of reaction through Shannon’s lower body.
34
Sting of the Wind
“I love the smell of you,” he said, lowering his face to her crotch. “It is a scent that calls to my cock.” He plucked lightly at her tight curls with his teeth then arced his tongue back and forth along the demarcation line between velvety skin and coarse hair. “Oh, please!” she whimpered. Her belly was quivering at the wash of his breath over her and the incessant scrape of his fingernail over her swollen clit. “Bend your knees for me, Shannon,” he demanded. “Bend your knees then let them fall apart to spread your legs wider.” She had to bite down on her lower lip as she did as he commanded. He shifted his position again until he was lying between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows as he put his hands on the creases of her thighs, his thumbs to the gentle folds of her cunt. His thumbs were to either side of her clit and he was massaging that delicate, highly sensitive nub between them—one thumb going up as the other came down. Shannon trembled, the entire span of her universe situated at the junction of her thighs. Little beads of perspiration clung to her forehead and upper lip as she gripped the sheet tighter and tighter in her fists. “Do you taste as good as you smell, Shannon?” he asked and pulled her lips apart. His tongue was like a hot brand searing her and Shannon arched her hips up to meet that flickering stroke as it worked its way down one crease then up the other. It laved across her slit—stabbed briefly inside—then moved up so his lips could close around her clit. “Argh!” Shannon cried out, bucking beneath his assault. She heard his light grunt of humor and tensed, expecting her climax at any moment but when he lifted his head, she moaned with despair. “I’m not going to make it that easy for you, dearling,” he said, pushing himself to his knees on the bed. He slid his hands beneath her rump and lifted her lower body, dragging her up to him, shouldering her legs over his upper arms so that her cunt was pressed along his wide, hairy chest. “Put your legs around my neck,” he told her. Barely able to breathe, she was lost in the heat that was consuming her and she would have done anything he commanded. She did as he bid and he lifted her hips higher, lowering his head so he could latch his mouth onto her wetness to suckle her. Spirals of light danced behind her eyelids as Shannon squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her entire body was ablaze with need and she fancied herself burning to a crisp as he mouthed her mound, slid his tongue along her folds, lapping at her with quick, heated little curls that send shivers down her spine. “Yes,” he said. “You taste as good as you smell.” Shannon let out a yelp as his tongue delved deep into her slit. His hot breath combined with that expert tip moving in and out of her with lightning raids was
35
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
fanning the fire that had started between her legs. She was being consumed by it and could feel the itch building. As quickly as his tasting began, it ended and he eased her legs from his shoulders and stretched out atop her, the thick pelt of his chest wedged between her legs. She thought she could feel each individual hair of his pelt prickling her. “Look at me,” he ordered. Shannon’s eyelids fluttered open and she started into midnight blue eyes that seemed to burrow into her very soul. He held her transfixed, the black striations whirling in his gaze mesmerizing her. “Do you want me, Shannon O’Rourke?” he inquired in that fascinating accent she had never been able to resist. “With all my soul!” she replied. “Tell me what it is you want.” She wanted to groan, for he knew damned well what it was she wanted from him. It was the same thing she always wanted when she came to his penthouse high above the concrete jungles of the city. “I want your cock,” she said anxiously and shivered at the words he forced her to say. “And what is it you want my cock to do?” he asked. He lowered his head to place a soft-as-a-feather kiss between her breasts. “I want it…” She licked her lips, dragging in a tremulous breath. “I want it to fill me.” His smile was slow, lazy, and those wizard’s eyes turned a darker shade of blue. Stark white teeth—the canines longer than those beside them—glistened in his deeply tanned face. Full, sensuous lips of a dusky rose color had been fashioned by the gods for a woman’s mouth to devour. “How badly do you want my cock inside you, Shannon?” he queried. “Shae, please!” she groaned. Her breasts were on fire with need, aching to know his hands, his mouth, that sinful tongue of his swirling across them, pulling at her nipples, suckling them, a single fang nibbling with just enough pressure to make her squirm. “Poor little human,” he said with a tsking sound. “So needful. So impatient.” His long, thick ebony hair fell forward to conceal the sides of his face from her as he lowered his head. Hot, searing lips touched her upper belly and she trembled. The kisses he planted along her flesh only increased her desire. She was straining to keep her release at bay, wanting him buried in her slick folds before she allowed herself to let go. Knowing full well he had intercepted her stray thought, she watched him lift his head and look up at her, the feral glow in his eyes turning crimson red. “I have needs, too, little one,” he said.
36
Sting of the Wind
“Take what you wish,” she said, plucking at the sheet in an attempt to refrain from attacking him. “You first,” he whispered and slid lower in the bed until his mouth fastened onto her aching sex. The deliberate slurping sound he made as he lapped at her drove her over the edge and she could not stop from reaching down to grasp his head. She burrowed her fingers through his lush curls and anchored him to her as his tongue slid along the creases of her cunt and took lightning quick forays inside, bringing her to a feverish pitch. She brought her legs up so she could lock them around his neck as he suckled her. His hands were shoved under her ass—lifting her for easier access—and his fingers were digging sweetly into her flesh as he held her to his face. But before the itch that had begun oozing up from her womb could overtake her, he pulled away, shrugging her legs aside, sinking his teeth—his fangs—gently into her thigh for just a fleeting second before coming to his knees on the bed. “Shae!” she protested, her hands held out to him in pleading. He shook his head. “Not quite yet, little one.” Opening his mouth, he swirled his tongue over his lips, dragging the taste of her and the tiny twin flecks of the salty blood from her thigh into his mouth. Seeming to savor the combined tastes, he lifted one leg to straddle her thigh and pushed the knee of his opposite leg tight up against her throbbing cunt. “You are torturing me,” she said. “Is that what you label this?” he asked, cocking his head to one side. “I rather think of it as foreplay, my love.” She moaned as he put his hands to her breasts and kneaded them gently, his thumbs stroking back and forth over her nipples. He closed his fingernails around each turgid tip and pinched lightly, rolling the puckered flesh between his fingers. “If you want torture, Shannon O’Rourke,” he said, his deep voice rumbling from a wide chest sheathed in rigid, rippling muscles, “I can give you torture.” And she knew he could, for this was not the first time she had spent a glorious night in the luxurious penthouse of Shae Durbin. From dusk until many a dawn she had lain captive in his silken sheets, splayed open for his very intense and deliberate form of lovemaking. “What shall it be, do you think?” he asked, stretching out above her, covering her body with his as he reached toward his nightstand, opening the drawer to extract whatever instrument of torment he had decided would be her reward this night. She heard the scrape of items being pushed aside in the drawer and closed her eyes. Whatever he chose would bring her to a roaring climax for he would apply the instrument with deft precision until he brought her to release after release, denying her the glorious tool that hung so heavily between his taut thighs for as long as he could stand it.
37
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Her eyelids fluttered open as he pushed himself up. She did not see what he had taken from the drawer and a slight tremor of fear rippled through her. “You trust me,” he stated, intercepting her fleeting thought. “You know I will do nothing to hurt you.” He arched a thick black brow. “Unless you wish me to.” She groaned as his hand slid between her legs and he caressed her crop of curls, his palm pressing deliciously down on her lower stomach, rushing blood to the pulsing little nub upon which his middle finger rested. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like with two men plying your scrumptious body?” he asked. Shannon’s eyes grew wide. “T-two?” “It is doable,” he said. His finger circled her clit, pushing aside the hood with each rotation. Her body was on fire with need and the excruciating touch punishing her love button caused her to grind her hips. “One to hold you—his hand cupping your breast—as the other thrusts away inside your velvet heat,” he continued. His hand stilled as he stared into her eyes, his own narrowed. “Of course, it would be a man of my choosing.” “Of course,” she agreed, willing to acquiesce to anything this master of passion decided would be to her benefit. “D-do you have someone in mind?” “Aye,” he said and dipped his finger into her slit. Shannon sighed. He was toying with her and the foreplay could go on for hours. He was a master at controlling his own emotions, the demands of his perfect body, and she had learned over the course of the last twenty years just how much he enjoyed prolonging her release. “Warm honey,” he said, thrusting his finger deep then removing it, bringing it to his mouth to taste. “Sweet, potent warm honey.” Her insides were doing a funny little squeeze as she watched him licking her juices from his long finger. Their gazes were locked and his was full of heat, full of lust, and when he smiled—his fangs gleaming in the candlelight atop his dual nightstands—he made her weak. She had almost forgotten about the toy he had taken from the drawer until she heard the low buzzing thrum of the vibrator. Sucking in an expectant breath, she felt his fingers spreading her folds, his thumb peeling back the clitoral hood, and she tensed, waiting for the first vibratory sensation on her sensitive flesh. When it came—as he gently laid the head of the vibrator on her taut, receptive clit, she arched her hips up, gasping as the pleasure pulsed through her. With the hood of her clitoris pulled back, the sensation of the vibrator’s head on that ultrasensitive spot might well have been painful but Shae knew just how much pressure to apply for there to be exquisite pleasure and no pain at all. He rolled the head around the fleshy nub in a circular motion that had Shannon pumping her hips
38
Sting of the Wind
upward. He dragged it down the creases, along the folds, dipped it momentarily into her cunt and then returned it to the clit, adding just a touch more pressure as he did. She could feel the climax coming. It was an itch that ground deep within her and she wanted to clamp her legs shut, trapping the vibrator against her but she knew better than to move. Shae had taught her well over the years and if she made any move other than the writhing she could not control, he would turn the vibrator off and let her stew in her own need. “Alexi?” he said quietly. Shannon stopped breathing. There was movement off to her left and she whipped her head toward it, stunned to see a man almost as gorgeous and well-endowed as Shae come striding into the room. As naked as the day he was born, the man was hung like a bull, his testicles so large the sight of them made Shannon’s mouth go dry. It was all she could do to swallow as he came to stand beside the bed, his golden eyes intent on her. “This is my friend, Alexi Romanokov,” Shae said. “He will be your servant tonight and add a bit of spice to our night.” One massive, well-muscled leg lifted to press against the mattress and Alexi joined them on the bed. He sat down beside Shannon’s head, his taut hip almost touching her and then turned on his side to face her, his cock sliding over his thigh to rest on the sheet. “Take him into your mouth, little one,” Shae ordered. Tearing her eyes from the massive shaft that was mere inches from her lips, Shannon looked up at Shae, her eyes filled with questions and unease. “Trust me, little human,” Shae said. “He will not hurt you in any way. I have brought him here to pleasure you but first you must win his allegiance. Take him into your mouth as you do me.” Hesitant but game, Shannon turned back to Alexi. Her arm was between her and this golden giant with bright blond hair. She let go of the sheet, brought her hand up so she could grasp Alexi’s cock. Swallowing hard, she brought his flesh—flesh that was rapidly hardening in her palm—to her lips and opened her mouth wide, and wider still, to take him inside. The taste of him reminded her of the salty rim of a glass of margaritas. There was the faint tang of tequila and as she drew him deeper into her mouth, the salty taste of him nudging the back of her throat sent spasms of pleasure along her spine. “Her mouth is sweet,” Alexi said in his thick Russian accent. “She has been taught to please,” Shae said. Shannon felt the vibrator enter her a little way and she moaned around the restriction in her mouth. Alexi’s left hand had clamped around her breast and he was massaging her, rolling his hand around and around, hefting the weight of her, squeezing her gently.
39
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Twisting the vibrator slowly, Shae moved it in and out of her cunt. The feeling was growing inside her. The climax—when it came—would be strong. She thought perhaps it might be among the most delicious she’d ever felt. “I will see to it, sweeting,” Shae said, once more snatching her musing from the air before it could settle in her mind. “Take your lips from him for a moment.” Obedient to his every whim, she slid her mouth from Alexi and as she did, another intense sensation settled between her legs as Shae employed another vibrator, placing it against the swollen head of her clit before beginning a shallow, quick penetrating rhythm with the first instrument, moving in and out of her. “Oh, my god!” Shannon gasped and knew it was a good thing her mouth—and teeth—hadn’t been around Alexi’s stiff cock. “Get under her and hold her,” Shae ordered his friend and Alexi lifted Shannon up as though she weighed no more than a newborn and settled her between his legs, her back to his hairy chest, his hands clamped around her tits. She could feel the stiff erection of the man lying behind her. It was stabbing into the small of her back and she wrapped her hands around the sides of his muscular thighs, her own legs spread wide as Alexi continued his unique brand of foreplay. In and out the vibrator thrust. Her clit was being bombarded with supreme sensations as that toy plied her sensitive nub. She was wriggling between Alexi’s legs, the wiry hair of his thighs beneath her palms lending the situation an erotic feeling as well. When his hands moved to her breasts to tweak and pull, to pinch lightly, to squeeze, she whimpered, for the climax was rapidly approaching and she knew it would be soul-shattering. “Imagine my cock inside you, little human,” Shae said. “Imagine it thick and full and loaded with cum. Feel it leap within you. Feel it release its juices…” Tremors began somewhere in her toes and shot up her legs to settle in that warm region that was primed and waiting. It lashed out at her with a fiery tongue that sent her body into one long shuddering climax. “Come for me, little one. Come hard for me.” The strength of her climax was unbelievable and it seemed to go on and on as Shae held the vibrator against her clit and increased the speed and depth of the second toy. He was pumping her and she was lifting her hips, giving him full range of her body until it shattered and she screamed with the exquisite pleasure-pain that filled her and spread like warm fire through her lower body. And still he held the vibrating tool to her flesh, not allowing her to jerk away from him, ignoring her pleading as climax after climax shook her and she dug her heels into the mattress, bucked in Alexi’s hold as his hands massaged her breasts and plucked at her nipples. On and on the climax continued until she was mindless to everything but the pleasure rippling through her on wave after wave of heat. “That’s it, baby,” Alexi whispered, bending his head so he could flick his tongue in her ear. “Come for him. Release your juices for him and me to share.” 40
Sting of the Wind
Alexi’s words sent her spiraling and she shuddered hard, beginning to beg to be released from the intense pleasure that was rocketing through her. Her legs were quivering, her entire body shaking and as Shae removed the source of the torment, she collapsed in Alexi’s strong arms, feeling his stiff rod poking her in the back. “My turn,” Shae said and tossed the vibrators away. He moved between her legs, lifted her limp limbs and draped them over his shoulder. In one deft, sure stroke he drove into her, stretching her as he began to pivot his hard cock within her. “You like that, baby?” Alexi asked, his tongue spiraling around her ear. “You like what he is doing to you?” Shannon was unable to speak. She was feeling the reawakening of pleasure as Shae ground into her and her hands tightened on Alexi’s thighs. “Pump her, Celt,” Alexi said with a laugh. “Pump her hard. Show her your mettle.” With his shaft pistoning in and out of her at a faster speed—the tip going so deep inside her it was almost painful—Shannon was glorying in having the two men in bed with her. Handsome, virile, muscular men who wanted only to pleasure her, she was primed to taste them, to give back a portion of the delight they were handing her. Shae came hard inside, pushing himself deep and holding himself there until the last of his spasms had drained his thick cock. Thinking he would collapse atop her, Shannon was surprised when he withdrew and flipped over to his side, taking her from Alexi as the Russian moved like an acrobat and was between her legs before she could draw another breath. As thick as any man she’d ever seen—and longer than any she’d ever seen even in photographs—Alexi entered her and stretched her to capacity, filling her. “Take her,” Shae said. “She likes it hard and fast, my friend.” And she did, she thought as the Russian began moving inside her with a force that made her grunt with each thrust. As he came, she could have sworn he got larger inside her. “He’s like a cat,” Shae said. His chin was resting atop her head and his hands spanned her sweaty breasts. “He’ll stay inside you until his cock shrinks.” Over an hour later, Alexi was still buried deep within her. He was lying atop her while Shae lay beside her, his head at her breast, suckling now and again, his tongue flicking the salty sweat from the valley between her tender globes. When Alexi’s tool finally eased out of her, she sighed deeply. Shae had moved out from underneath her as soon as Alexi came and now lay at her side, idly twirling a lock of her long brown hair around his finger. “Satiated, little one?” he asked softly. “Depleted,” she replied, turning her head to look into his dark eyes. “Good.” He nudged Alexi with his foot. “We’ve an hour before sunrise, Cossack. We should go below.”
41
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Alexi grunted then rolled lazily to the other side of Shannon. “Sometimes I wish I was still human,” he said. “Not me,” Shae said and leaned over to kiss Shannon. He swung his long muscular legs from the bed and stood, reaching for his black silk robe. Knotting it securely around his waist, he padded barefoot to the door. “Coming, Cossack?” “If I were, you’d know it,” Alexi mumbled. He, too, bent over to kiss Shannon then reluctantly left the bed. Since he’d arrived in the bedchamber without clothing, he left in the same condition. Shannon pushed up on her elbows and watched the handsome men leave the room. She smiled then lay back down and curled up in a fetal position, the pillow clutched in her arms. Though tired from the marathon lovemaking session, it was a pleasing tired and she fell easily asleep even before Shae and Alexi entered the private elevator that would take them down the thirty-five floors to the subterranean room where they would spend the day. “What do you think of our lady?” Shae asked as the elevator descended. “For once you did not exaggerate, Celt. She is as beautiful as you promised,” Alexi replied. “And as hot.” The elevator stopped its long descent and the thick bronze doors slid open to reveal another set of doors that could only be opened from a palm imprint panel. Shae placed his hand on the panel, a green glow appeared briefly, and the doors opened quietly. “After you.” Alexi nodded and walked through the doorway. The belowground room that stretched out before them was dark as the tomb with no light visible in its depths, but the vampires needed no light for their eyesight could pierce even the most ebon of vistas. Bidding one another good day, they separated, each going to the specially built coffins that held the soil from their native lands. Shae opened the lid of his sleeping place, glancing about him at the scores of similar caskets that were lined up in the huge room. He smiled as he climbed into his silk-lined bed. If the humans scuttling above them were to learn of this chamber, there would be mass panic in the streets of Atlanta and repercussions all over the Earth. His eyelids heavy with the approach of the morning sun, he closed them and lay there for a brief moment before his breathing ceased, his heart stopped and the eternal darkness claimed him.
42
Sting of the Wind
Chapter Two Shannon reclined in the plush leather chair that had been designed and built to fit her body to perfection and steepled her fingers under her chin. She was tired still from Shae’s special brand of playing. Her boss knew how to drain a girl in more ways than one. “You have the strangest look on your face, O’Rourke. It must have been one wild weekend.” Looking up to find Charles Henry, the head of research and development, leaning against the door to her office, Shannon smiled. “Yeah, well it took something out of me, Chuckles.” Charles shrugged. “Such is life in the Metro,” he stated with a wink. “You need something?” she inquired. “Are you going to be in contact with the Man today?” he asked. “Mr. Durbin is in India on retreat,” she lied. “What’s up?” “Well, perhaps you can give me the okay since he’s out of touch,” Charles replied. “I’m told we have need of two more blood cell separators. Since Hurricane Katrina struck on the Gulf Coast, we have had an influx of donors volunteering for aphaeresis. Since donors can donate plasma as frequently as every forty-eight hours we have a few who have signed up to do just that.” “Every forty-eight hours?” Shannon asked, her eyebrows elevated. “I don’t believe I knew that. I do know aphaeresis is the process in which blood is taken from a donor, the platelets removed and the rest of the blood returned to the donor, but I didn’t know you could donate that often.” “Yes, but no more than twelve times a year,” Charles said. “Retrieval is taken from one arm, the plasma removed, and the rest of the blood components returned back to the donor’s other arm. We are able to save far more lives with this process.” “That’s the name of the game,” Shannon said. “I know Mr. Durbin will be pleased to hear we have acquired more donors. If you need anything, just order it. Will two be enough?” Charles bit his lower lip. “Four would be even better.” “Then get them,” Shannon said. As Chief Financial Officer of Durbin Enterprises, Shannon was overseer of several entities within the huge conglomerates owned by Shae Durbin. One part of that company was the Greater Atlanta Area Blood Bank that worked closely with other companies in the area to help to provide blood and plasma for national emergencies
43
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
such as the one that had recently struck Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, and was second only to the children’s cancer research services provided by Durbin Enterprises. “Thanks, Shannon. This is greatly appreciated,” Charles said, saluting her. Shannon sat forward in her chair and picked up the phone, punching in the extension for Dalton Cruise, the Manager of Regional Quality for the Blood Bank. “Dr. Cruise’s office,” his secretary answered in a soft Scottish accent. “Is he available, Maureen?” Shannon asked. “He is,” the woman replied, not needing to ask who was calling since few people had Dalton’s extension number. “Just a sec.” When he came on the line, Shannon could tell Dalton was in a good mood. “Ned Vital’s Chocolate Emporium and Sex Shoppe,” he said. “What can I do you for, lady?” Shannon laughed. “Things must be going good down there today,” she said. “Better than good,” he said. “I’d say we had a howling success this morning. My team managed to isolate that little weird blood component that causes hot flashes in menopausal women.” Shannon snorted, knowing he was teasing her. “I believe that is caused by a diminished level of estrogen, Doc.” “Really?” he gasped then made a tsking sound. “Well, back to the bloody drawing board then.” Picturing the werewolf running the tip of his tongue over his fangs—a habit he had when the word blood was mentioned in any form—Shannon smiled. “Charles came in for additional blood cell separators. Is there anything you need while the order is going in?” “I would kill for an all-meat, double cheese in the crust pizza and a six-pack of beer but other than that, we’re good,” Dalton said. “All joking aside, we’re making progress on identifying why patients with hemochromatosis have such low total blood lymphocyte counts. We’re working our little paws to the bones down here.” “Remind me again what that is,” Shannon asked. “Hemochromatosis is an inherited iron overload disease. It causes the body to absorb and store too much iron. When that extra iron builds on in a patient suffering from this disease, it can cause the organs to fail. I definitely think we’re on track with our research.” “Shae will be glad to hear it,” Shannon said. “Now if you could just find a cure for his illness…” “We’re working on it, little human,” Dalton said, using the endearment their employer had given Shannon. “We’re working on it.” “You don’t need anything then?”
44
Sting of the Wind
“Not at the moment, but don’t forget to remind Charlie Chuckles to make sure his outdated blood gets down to us in a timely manner. He seems to equate outdated with useless and I’ve heard he’s been pitching it. That just won’t do. If he doesn’t start toeing the line, I’ll come get what I need for my experiments from his spindly neck.” Shannon laughed. “I’ll remind him.” After hanging up, Shannon thought of all the preternatural beings that were employed at Durbin Enterprises. Those that could be out in the light of day without too many problems—werewolves, baobban siths, and djinns—worked the day shift so they could prowl at night to do what they enjoyed most, ridding the world of evil. Those whose appearances would frighten humans or who could only be out when the sun went down took over at dusk. Few humans worked for Durbin and those who did were sworn to secrecy regarding their supernatural co-workers. The pay was far above the norm for workers in their chosen fields and the retirement benefits were superb. Termination was exceedingly rare but if it came, it was definitely something to die for.
45
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Chapter Three Shannon had been fresh out of college when she took the job as an accounting clerk at Durbin Enterprises North in Marietta. Only humans worked in the DEN as Shae called it, for it was strictly an accounting firm that took care of the stock portfolios, investments, properties—scattered all over the world—owned by Shae Durbin, and the payrolls of the thousands of employees. “Mr. Durbin is impressed with your work, Miss Walsh,” the Director of Services said four years into Shannon’s employment. “He’s been keeping an eye on you.” The DOS had smiled. “Are you ready for a rather exciting advancement with Durbin Enterprises?” Shannon’s heart had thumped hard in her chest. She’d applied for a position with the special projects department that helped find funding for the various research projects. It was a plush-carpeted rung on the corporate ladder but she had not held out any hope she’d get it. “The position in special projects?” she asked, her mouth dry. “Oh, heavens, no!” the DOS said, waving at hand. Her heart plummeting, it was all Shannon could do to keep from moaning. “It’s a much better position than that, dear,” Mrs. O’Leary, the DOS, said. “Mr. Durbin has asked me to offer you the job as his personal assistant.” She’d leaned back in her chair. “Are you interested?” Shannon’s face turned pale, her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. She blinked—unable to speak—and put a hand to her chest. “Personal assistant?” she repeated. “Of course, Mr. Durbin would like to meet with you personally. This is just a preliminary meeting. We didn’t know if you’d be interested in the position so…” “Yes!” Shannon yelped, putting out a hand to Mrs. O’Leary. “I am very interested!” “Excellent,” the DOS said. “Then shall we set up a meeting with Mr. Durbin for tonight? Say at 7 p.m.?” “Tonight?” Shannon echoed, thinking what a strange time for a meeting. “He would like to take you to dinner here in his private suite and go over a few things with you.” Mrs. Leary’s keen brown eyes bored into Shannon. “You understand this is strictly business, of course.” “Yes, ma’am,” Shannon said quickly. Her head was reeling. “Then run along and good luck although I’m sure you won’t need it,” the DOS said, sitting forward to shuffle papers on her desk. Her head was down, her obvious
46
Sting of the Wind
dismissal of Shannon evident in the industriousness with which she began perusing the papers. Shannon stood there for a moment longer. When Mrs. O’Leary looked up, one eyebrow lifted in query, Shannon thanked the woman then hurriedly left, unable to keep the wide grin from her lips as she walked back to her office. It was a frigidly cold north Georgia night with a hint of sleet hovering in the gunmetal gray sky as Shannon took the glass elevator to the penthouse floor. After work, she had hurried home to shower and dress in a nice gray pinstriped pants outfit that made her feel professional and in charge. She was determined to put her best foot forward—in a pair of sleek black pumps that had cost her a small fortune. Nervous, but sure of herself, she had stared out over the Atlanta skyscrapers as the elevator rose quietly, praying the job would be hers. Before reaching the penthouse floor, the elevator had slid gracefully to a stop and the intercom had come on. “Miss Walsh?” a very British voice asked. “Yes,” she replied, wondering if the man speaking was Shae Durbin’s butler. “I am bringing you up.” “Thank you.” Once more the elevator rose and when it stopped with a very delicate ping, the wide bronze doors slid open to reveal an older gentleman impeccably dressed in a black suit. “Good evening, Miss Walsh,” the butler said, bowing his head slightly. “Please call me Shannon,” she said and was rewarded with a warm but polite smile. “I would be honored to do so. Please call me Edgar. May I take your coat?” he asked, stepping forward. Shannon turned around, presenting her back to him, and unbuttoned the coat, allowing him to slip it from her shoulders. “Thank you, Edgar. It’s freezing out there tonight.” “We’re in for some nasty weather I hear,” he agreed, draping her coat over his left arm. “If you will follow me, please?” The floor beneath her feet was stunningly beautiful as Shannon made her way over the sleek, highly polished tiles made from black anthracite. With the walls covered in pale gold watered silk with intricate off-white crown molding at least ten inches in height and spectacular artwork that had to be priceless, she knew the entry alone was worth more than her entire apartment and its furnishings. Edgar led her to a room just off the entry. It was a man’s room with heavy oak tables, a sofa and flanking loveseats covered in a dark green and red plaid, and two oversized red leather chairs that sat to either side of a huge red brick fireplace roaring
47
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
with an inviting fire. The room smelled of patchouli and the light was turned down so the atmosphere was mellow and inviting—a place in which to relax. “I was worried you would have trouble getting back into town with the sleet I’ve heard is coming,” a deep voice said. “I would have sent a car.” Shannon turned to see her employer standing at a richly carved oaken bar. He came toward her carrying two crystal wine flutes filled with what she knew must be champagne, for she could see the bubbles. “It’s not as bad as I’ve heard its going to get,” she said, unable to take her eyes from the striking man walking over to her. Although she had passed the portrait of Shae Daniel Durbin in the lobby of Durbin Enterprises she wasn’t prepared for the man himself. No painting could have done him justice as he gave her a seductive smile that made his tanned face even more attractive. Dressed in black slacks and a black silk shirt, he looked positively scrumptious. Tall—at least six and a half feet of prime maleness—with a thick head of long dark hair pulled casually back from his face by a silver band, he had broad shoulders that flexed powerfully under the black silk and long legs that made her wish he’d turn around so she could see the view from the rear. But it was his eyes that held Shannon in thrall. They were a sparkling dark amber with lighter striations of gold running through the irises. Beautifully long eyelashes and thick eyebrows peaked devilishly in the center framed those stunning eyes. Looking into them was like looking into the fire and made her just as warm. “Well, I’ll definitely send you home in the limo,” he said, stopping in front of her and handing her the champagne. “We can’t have my new personal assistant slipping and sliding around out there, can we, Eddie?” Edgar flinched and with a sigh shook his head. “No sir. We cannot.” He gave Shannon a look that told her he did not like to be called Eddie. “Will there be anything else, sir?” “I don’t believe so.” Edgar bowed slightly and pivoted around, walking away with shoulders ramrod straight. “I’ve insulted the poor man again,” her employer said with a grin. “Do you do that often?” she asked, not having missed him calling her his new assistant. Her heart was beating so fast she felt lightheaded. “Only every chance I get,” he replied with an unrepentant wink. He extended his champagne flute toward her. “To the kindred.” Shannon clicked her glass against his, puzzled over the strange toast. She took a sip of the champagne and almost purred as the wondrous taste of it spread over her tongue. “Like it?” “It’s wonderful,” she said. 48
Sting of the Wind
“Shall we sit?” He indicated one of the chairs beside the fireplace, taking his seat only after she was seated. Settling back in the lush leather, he crossed his right ankle over his left knee and braced his elbows on the thick chair arms. He held the champagne with both hands and looked at her over the rim. “Barring any complications, the job as my personal assistant is yours,” he said. A wild rush of relief spread through Shannon and she beamed at him, but cautioned herself to take it slowly, not to whoop with pleasure which was her first instinct. “What complications could there be?” she inquired. He took a sip of the champagne then set the flute aside. “Those who inhabit the upper echelons of my company are privy to things others are not,” he stated. “If after I have filled you in on those things and you decide the job is something you truly want, then I will formally offer it to you. If you decide the job is not for you, I will erase the memory of this meeting from your mind and we will go on as though this conversation never took place.” She blinked. “Erase the memory?” Shae Durbin threaded his fingers together and braced his chin on them. “That is completely within my power, I assure you.” Laughing nervously at his words, Shannon’s smile disintegrated when he did not answer that smile with one of his own. He was staring steadily at her, his eyes seemingly locked on hers, drawing her full attention to the golden orbs. “You’re not joking,” she finally said. “I rarely joke, Shannon, and when I do, it won’t be about business,” he told her. “Durbin Enterprises is the lifeblood of my family. I am deadly serious about it.” There was something strange flickering through his gaze that made the hair on the back of Shannon’s neck stand up. She felt drawn to him yet uneasy in his presence. From things she’d heard and read, she knew him to be a powerful, wealthy man, a corporate raider, a no-nonsense businessman who went after what he wanted, never resting until he had acquired that which he sought. Edgar slipped quietly into the room, bowing slightly. “Dinner is served, sir,” he said in his impeccable British accent. Shannon’s employer reached for his champagne, finished it, and then stood, the flute in his strong-looking fingers. “Would you care for another glass with your meal?” he asked. Something warned Shannon not to indulge in another heady glass since the one she had been sipping on seemed to have dulled her thinking. “No, thank you. I’m fine.” She got to her feet. Her employer stepped aside for her to precede him and as they reached Edgar, he handed his flute to the stately man. “Another if you please, Eddie.” Shannon heard a sigh rush loudly from the butler. “Of course, sir,” Edgar said, taking Shae’s glass.
49
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
With a hand to the small of her back, her employer ushered Shannon out of the den and down the corridor, past fabulous pen and ink drawings that lined the long walls. She would have liked to stop and give the drawings a closer look but the contact on her flesh was sending tingles up her spine and she thought she could feel each individual finger as it pressed against her back. “I hope you like salmon,” her host said. “Yes, I do,” she responded. The room to which he directed her made Shannon’s eyes widen. It was by far the most lavish room she’d ever entered. With silk moiré walls of a celadon green and an intricate oriental area rug upon which sat a massive red oak table and tall wingback chairs covered in a plush scarlet red silk, the room took her breath away with its beauty. As if that weren’t enough, the fine china rimmed in what she knew must be gold was flanked by shining utensils in thick gold stamped with a lovely Celtic knot pattern. “This is stunning,” she said, looking about her at the landscapes that decorated the walls. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, holding her chair out for her. Edgar had placed her directly to their employer’s right instead of at the far end of the twenty-foot-long table. “This makes for a much cozier conversation,” Shae said. “I detest having to shout to be heard.” The chair upon which she sat was as soft as a marshmallow beneath her rump yet the back was stiff enough to keep her spine straight and not allow her to sink down into the cushion as she wanted to. “First the meal, then our little talk,” Shae said. “I never combine one pleasure with the other unless it is strawberries and whipped cream on fine silk sheets.” Shannon’s face turned red at his words as Edgar took her napkin, shook it out and laid it across her lap. She thanked the stately gentleman and looked around as several servants came in laden with serving trays. The meal of salmon baked in a thin phyllo crust and served with shredded leeks was mouthwatering. Side dishes of braised vegetables sautéed in olive oil and a rosemary and tomato quiche complimented the salmon to perfection. Following the entrée, Edgar arrived with poached pears in a delicious plum brandy sauce. As her host sipped champagne, Shannon made do with a rich hickory coffee that left her senses sharp. The two diners spoke of mundane things like the present bad weather, the state of the Atlanta Braves baseball team, the ongoing congestion caused by still more and more freeway work, and the need for less strip malls and more adequate housing for the poor in the teeming city. By the time dessert arrived, they were comfortable with one another and ate in silence, relishing the superb taste of the poached pears.
50
Sting of the Wind
“Would you like a snifter of brandy while we discuss the particulars of the job?” he asked as he blotted his lips with his linen napkin. “No thank you. If I’m to sign away my soul, I’d like to be aware while I’m doing it,” she joked. He gave her a strange, unwavering look that caused the hair on her head to stir but then he smiled—lazily and with a sultriness that went straight to her libido. “Then let’s go back to the den and start the negotiations for that soul, Shannon,” he said, pushing his chair back. Once they were settled in the den—he with a large snifter of brandy and she with another cup of Edgar’s delicious coffee—he laid his arm over the back of the loveseat on which he sat and crossed his ankles, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “What would you say if I told you I was a vampire?” he asked. Shannon nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken. The cup rattled in the saucer and she leaned forward to place it on the cocktail table in front of the sofa. “I beg your pardon?” she said, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “I sleep in a coffin and never go out in the light of day because to do so would be my fiery destruction,” he said, holding her stunned gaze with his mesmerizing one. “I never age. In actuality, I am over five hundred years old. Without working out, I have the strength of twenty human men and can change my shape into whatever likeness I desire. I need daily consumption of blood in order to survive and I detest garlic although crucifixes and holy water have no effect on me whatsoever.” He smiled wryly. “You must first believe in religious teachings before they can do any harm to you.” She sat there for a moment uncertain whether to laugh or get up and run. Obviously the man was testing her in some fashion and even though her heart was pounding and her trusty inner voice was warning her to run as quickly as she could for the exit, she relaxed as best she could and met his unwavering look. “I guess I’d ask you if a prerequisite for the job is that I become a vampire, too,” she said. He shook his head. “No, and I would prefer that you not. Being able to walk in the light of day—taking care of the business I cannot while I am confined underground—is one of the absolute necessities of the job.” “In that case,” she started to say but stopped, her eyes widening into saucers as he opened his mouth and hissed at her, sharp canines—elongated and glistening in the candlelight—clearly evident between his chiseled lips. For the longest time she stared at him, rooted to her seat. She was trembling all over as she watched in complete shock as he shifted from man to wolf to hawk then back to man in the space of a few seconds. Then he slowly dissolved only to reappear sitting close beside her, his thigh pressed intimately to hers. “There are many of my kindred who work for Durbin Enterprises,” he said. “We neither prey on the living nor do we take the lives of the righteous. We strive to find a
51
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
cure for the afflictions that assail us and in the doing are striving for a cure for such devastating illnesses as childhood cancer.” Shannon wondered what had been in her drink because the bizarre conversation was surely the result of an impaired mentality. “Come on board,” he said, taking her hand, ignoring the flinch that quivered through her body, “and I promise you a life unlike anything you can imagine with beings that will astound you.” Shannon couldn’t move. She felt as though she had been nailed to the sofa with immovable spikes. There was a tingle spreading up her arm as his fingers caressed hers. “I’m dreaming, right?” she said. “You did not come to Durbin Enterprises on happenstance, Shannon. You were discovered by one of the legion of scouts I have searching for the best and the brightest. One look at your file, your picture, and my heart was captured. I knew you were the mate destiny had provided for me,” he said. “If I had thought you would turn me down, I would not have offered you the job.” She turned to look at him, her eyes going over the spectacular male beauty of his face. “Come to me,” he said and moved so that his lips were against the side of her neck. “Become One with my kindred and me.” Shannon tensed, thinking he was about to sink his wickedly sharp teeth into her neck, but instead his lips pressed against her and she closed her eyes, feeling a stab of desire that rocketed through her like lightning. “I’ll never hurt you,” he whispered. “Nor will I ever allow anyone to hurt you. You will have money, power, influence, and you will never lack for anything your heart desires.” He was trailing light kisses up the column of her neck and onto her chin, her cheek. He lifted his hand and cupped her face. “All I ask is that you come to me.” “You said you didn’t want to make me a…” “Do you want the job?” he asked. “Not at the risk of losing my soul,” she said, pulling back. He smiled, his amber eyes glowing. “I don’t want your soul, little human, nor do I want your precious blood. What I want is to make love to you,” he said. “I want you as my own.” She felt herself falling into the abyss of his amber gaze. Her body felt light, airy, and she seemed to float into his arms, for one moment she was standing there and the next he was holding her in his powerful arms, gazing down at her with a look that sent liquid heat pouring through her loins. “Do you want the job?” he repeated. Shannon nodded, unable to speak for she was lost in his seductive gaze.
52
Sting of the Wind
“Good,” he said, turning with her. “Then let’s seal the bargain.”
53
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Chapter Four As she lazed in the oversized claw foot tub in the penthouse apartment, Shannon’s eyes were closed, the tickle of the foam around her washing under her chin as she deeply inhaled the rich gardenia scent of the bubble bath Shae had made especially for her. It had been a long, tiring day, and she had been looking forward to her bath—a nightly ritual that both relaxed and invigorated her. Dragging the sponge over her flesh, she sighed with pleasure. She was a tactile person and touch was as necessary to her as breathing. Down the hall, she heard the grandfather clock chiming and when the seventh peal faded, she smiled. Shae would be rising in a little while as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Always eager for him and the powerful virility he brought with him, she looked forward to the end of the day. There was a soft tap at the bathroom door then a maid came in with a silver tray that held a crystal glass of rose-tinted wine. Without speaking, she placed the glass on the little table beside the tub and turned to go. “Thank you, Andrea,” Shannon said and was rewarded with the maid turning and smiling in acknowledgement with a slow bob of her head. Reaching out a suds-coated arm, Shannon took the wine and sipped it. Like the expensive bubble bath, the wine was one of Shae’s creations. Distilled from select plums in his vineyard in Tuscany, it was a heady brew that eased the soul. One sip of the potent liquid made the candles scattered about the bathroom seem to take on a soft, mellow glow. The wine—like the man who had designed it—was highly addictive. Oh, how she loved this tub, she thought as she lifted a leg to drag the sponge down her calf. It was to this same tub he had taken her that first night and Shannon laid her head back along the tall golden back and thought of her initiation into Shae Durbin’s mystical world… Her arms encircling his neck as he carried her up the long, serpentine stairway to the balcony where a sumptuous bedchamber awaited, Shannon was overwhelmed by the power in his shoulders as they flexed. He was wearing intoxicatingly seductive cologne that made her senses reel as she inhaled it. The scent made her body burn with need and she could feel the heat and moisture gathering between her thighs. The room to which he took her was the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. Done in the palest shades of celadon and mauve, there was a gorgeous dark rose rug on the floor with a complex design of Celtic knotting in light green. The king-size four-poster bed was covered with a beige silk comforter that cushioned her like a cloud as Shae laid her gently upon it. 54
Sting of the Wind
One moment they were dressed and in the next they were both naked, his muscular body stretched out beside hers. His hand cupped her breast in a proprietary way that made her want to purr like a well-fed kitten. “I will never ask more from you than you are willing to give,” he said, caressing her, his thumb easing over her swollen nipple. “You really are supernatural,” she said in awe. He nodded. “There are many of us within the company—some of whom you would never have heard. I have gathered them over the centuries to aid me in searching for the cures to the illnesses that have made us what we are.” He leaned over to flick his tongue into the sweet hollow at the base of her throat, and then straightened, fusing his gaze with hers. “We have taken for ourselves that part of the Physician’s Oath that states ‘first of all, to do no harm’.” He grinned. “Although we amended it to say ‘first of all, to do no harm to those of innocence’. Those who harm humans in any way are fair game for their otherworldly counterparts looking for justice. To them, we are like the wind. They can feel its passing around them but they can not see it as it watches every move they make. Yet when they transgress against the laws of nature and man, they most definitely will feel its sting. ” There had been many, many questions Shannon needed answered but Shae Durbin had answered each—as he surfed her eager body with hands and tongue and fangs. Long into the night they had spoken and when at last he had moved over her, she had been satisfied he had been honest and forthcoming with her. She had accepted him as her employer and as her lover. “Such sweet memories,” he said from the doorway. “I treasure them, as well.” Shannon opened her eyes and looked up at the man who had become everything to her. As always, the sight of him thrilled her. From the top of his sleek black hair to the bare toes peeking out from the cuffs of his black trousers, he looked good enough to eat. She looked past him. “Are you alone tonight?” “Would you prefer it that way?” he asked as his hands went to the white silk shirt covering his broad chest. “Alexi was nice but I would like it to be just you and me,” she said. “So be it,” he said. His fingers ran slowly, sensually down the front of his shirt, flicking buttons aside. He tugged the material from the waistband of his pants. “I was only trying to give you a change of pace.” Shannon licked her lips as he shrugged out of the shirt and let it drop to the floor. “I need only you,” she said in a husky voice for his hands had moved to the closure of his pants. “I, too, like it that way, little one,” he agreed. He slid the zipper down his fly then hooked his thumbs in the waistband to push the pants down his long legs.
55
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
The sight of his thick, hard erection springing free of the pants made Shannon tremble. His shaft was a glorious tool that could fill her and bring about a release that seemed to suck the very energy from her being to leave her sated and depleted so completely she could barely move. “Was your day productive?” he asked, stepping out of the pants. “I got a lot done,” she said. Her mouth was watering, her palms itching to touch his cock. “Dalton is making progress with the hemochromatosis.” “Excellent,” he said. He padded over to the tub, stood there for a moment then bent down to scoop her into his arms, the water and suds covering her body running down him as he turned. “Shae, no!” she said. “Don’t ruin the coverlet again!” “Shush,” he said as he carried her into the bedroom. He walked to the vast marble fireplace—before which lay a thick white fur rug—and dropped gracefully to one knee. “Where did the rug come from?” she asked then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. What Shae wanted, appeared when he decreed it. He eased her to the fur then uncoiled his magnificent body to stretch out between her thighs, his knees pushing her legs further apart. “Have I told you lately how much I love you, Shannon O’Rourke?” he asked, lowering his lips to the sensitive hollow at the base of her left ear. “You could never say it to me enough,” she said, groaning. He braced himself on his elbows to keep his weight from crushing her. Using the backs of the fingers of his right hand, he trailed them down her cheek. “You are,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion, “more beautiful now than the day I first saw you.” “I am what I am,” she said, knowing full well the first telltale wrinkles had begun to show at the corner of her eyes and mouth. Her skin was no longer as taut or as smooth and tiny brown specks were beginning to show up on the backs of her hands. “Say the word and time will stand still for you,” he said. “It will reverse, if that is what you wish.” For many years, Shannon had been seriously considering joining Shae in his life among the Undead. He had remained as handsome, as powerful as he had always been but she had begun to age and the image she looked at in the mirror each morning made her sad. “I can mind-bend your image as I have my own, sweeting,” he said, easily reading her mind. “No one will know any different.” “I know,” she said. Those of the human race who looked at the rare photos of the elusive, hermit-like Shae Durbin saw a man who had aged as time meant a human to age when in actuality what those uninitiated saw was an image Shae himself projected to hide the truth.
56
Sting of the Wind
“Stay with me,” he pleaded, laying his head on her shoulder. “I want to be with you through eternity.” She was tempted—oh, how she was tempted! As she wrapped her arms around him and felt his warm breath on her neck, she thought of all the wondrous times coming in the years ahead. She did not want to leave him any more than he wanted her to leave. But time was their enemy—their only enemy—and if it continued as it had, time would take her from him. She wanted to be there to see Dalton find his cure for hemochromatosis. She wanted to be there to celebrate on the day the werewolf found a way to cure many other rampaging diseases like childhood leukemia. That it would happen, she had no doubt. “Shannon, please,” he begged—this commanding, enigmatic man who held his heart in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” “Will it hurt?” she asked. She heard him draw in a quick breath—it was the first time she had not given him an emphatic no. He lifted his head and looked down at her, hope filling his amber eyes. “Do you mean it? Are you considering…?” “I don’t want it to hurt, Shae,” she said. “There will be no hurt. I will shield you from any unpleasantness as you cross over.” For a long, long moment, they held each other’s gaze then Shannon nodded ever so slightly. “I want no other men popping up in my bed,” she stated. “That suits me quite well,” he assured her. “The crossover must be accomplished during the act of love for it to bind us as one for the remainder of time and beyond. There has to be overriding passion for the spell to work.” “I’d have it no other way,” she replied, for passion had never been lacking in their relationship. With a hand shaking with eagerness, he cupped her chin, lowering his lips to hers to seal the deal. It was a kiss that made her toes curl as his tongue dueled with hers. When he lifted his head, the stark gleam of possession shone in the amber depths of his eyes to a degree she’d never seen before and for one brief, quickly dismissed moment, she feared this being hovering above her until his mouth went to her breast and the sweet, gentle sucking began. His tongue swirled around the turgid peak as his lips pulled delicately at the puckered flesh. He nipped her lightly with his fangs, sending shudders of delight rippling down her spine. As his mouth moved on her, he shifted to his side and slid his hand down to the curls at the junction of her thighs. Lightly parting them, he tapped at her core then slid first one, then another finger into her dampness, going as deep as he could inside her. In and out his fingers thrust in a slow, possessive rhythm that heated her blood. His teeth plucking at her nipple, his expert probing making her squirm beneath his
57
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
ministrations, Shannon arched her hips up to meet him, wanting more, needing more, craving more. Shae slid down in the fur and took her into his mouth, his tongue doing things to her she could not remember ever having felt before. He was setting her ablaze and she gripped the fur rug, pulling it taut to her hips as her demon pressed deeply into her, his hands holding her labial lips apart for him to ravage her. “Shae!” she called out, writhing. Once more he slid up her until he was positioned between her thighs, nudging her thighs further apart until she brought her legs up to encircle his waist. “Yes,” he said, the word coming from him like an explosion. She could feel the steely tip of his cock pressing at her entrance—poised to pierce, to thrust, to press into the very marrow of her being. His arms were shaking as he held himself above her and when she looked at his face, she could see the need building there and knew it mirrored her own. “Take me,” she said, knowing he needed her permission each time to breach her body. “Make me yours.” A flare of crimson fire shot through his molten eyes and he pressed forward, the length of him going deep until she thought he might well touch the back of her navel. He was seated firmly within her—stretching her wide—and filling her so completely she came almost instantly. “Shae!” she yelled, her nails scoring bloody furrows into his back. Holding himself still within her until the last of her tremors quivered away, only then did he begin to stroke her with his hard length, pushing in slowly, deeply, firmly, and gliding out again just as smoothly. He smiled as her nails dug into him—binding them together—and he went even deeper into her, reveling in the tiny grunt that accompanied each foray into her sweet sheath. Shannon was burning up with the lust that had engulfed her. She could not get close enough to him, arch herself high enough to bring him into her as far as she wanted him to be. Her loins ached with a need she had never felt before and she wriggled beneath him, pushing up to meet his slow, deliberate thrusts, urging him to go faster, deeper. “Easy, little human,” he said. “It will come.” And it did come with another succession of rippling clutches that had her screaming with the pleasure. He was still huge within her and as his thrusts grew quicker and pushed further into her until she thought he might burst her with his width, she tightened her legs around him, arched her hands into claws and began pumping her hips up to meet him. Shae was sweating tiny drops of blood as he quickened his pace. His eyes were closed, his jaw clamped tight. He increased his rhythm. He pushed as hard as he could into her and when he felt another quiver of her release coming quickly after the second,
58
Sting of the Wind
he unleashed the controlled lust that was coiled like a spring within him. As he let go, he threw back his head and howled, the fire in the hearth leaping as he unleashed his cum. His eyes snapping open were bright red and his fangs lengthened to well below his lower lip. With a fierce growl, he lowered his head and sank his fangs into the soft flesh of Shannon’s neck, the hollow point of his wicked canines striking for her jugular, injecting the potency of his essence into her body. Wave after wave of intense pleasure began undulating through Shannon when she felt the sting of his bite. She was glorying in the sensation, absorbing every last shudder of it, but all of a sudden she felt a tiny spasm of pain and flinched. He knew the exact moment the crossing over began, and sent a blanket of forgetfulness over her delicate human mind to shield her from the ferocity of the change. He drank from her as those first violent convulsions gripped her body and when he pulled back, enveloped her in his arms and rolled over so she was lying atop him, her body shuddering as the poison invaded every vein, every artery, every drop of blood in her body and began to change it. “Easy, my lady,” he whispered to her, holding her tightly against him. When it was all over and the last of her shivers faded away, Shannon opened her eyes at the silent command and was astounded at the beauty of the place surrounding her. She could see colors she did not know existed and they were sharp and clear and utterly beguiling. With her mouth dropped open in wonder, she looked to Shae. “You will have to retire from your position,” he said. “You’ll no longer be able to walk in the light of day.” She nodded. It was a small enough price to pay to be with him. From out of nowhere a mirror appeared and he held it up for her to see. “Look,” he ordered softly. The image in the mirror was one of a woman in her early twenties and not the forty-six-year-old she was. She put a hand to the smooth flesh at her eyes, her mouth. She stared into eyes that were clear and marveled that the tiny beginnings of the pouches that had been there were now gone. Her hair seemed fuller, richer, a more vibrant shade and when she smiled, her teeth—especially the fangs that had lengthened her canines—were white and strong looking. She turned so she was no longer lying atop him but at his side—where she always wanted to be. “I didn’t think vampires could see themselves,” she said. He smiled and the mirror vanished. “An old wives tale.” “Can I still help with the company?” she asked. “In any way you wish,” he said, his pride in her showing in his golden gaze. “Together,” she said. “We will make a difference.” “Aye,” he said with a sigh. “That we will, little one.”
59
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
As they lay there—their hands entwined—Shannon blessed the day she had come to work for Durbin Enterprises. Not only had she found a place where she could help rid the world of disease, but she had met a man who loved her as much as she loved him. Yes, Durbin Enterprises was a great place to work. After all, it had completely changed her Unlife.
60
About the Author Charlee is the author of over thirty books. Married 39 years to her high school sweetheart, Tom, she is the mother of two grown sons, Pete and Mike, and the proud grandmother of Preston Alexander and Victoria Ashley. She is the willing house slave to five demanding felines who are holding her hostage in her home and only allowing her to leave in order to purchase food for them. A native of Sarasota, Florida, she grew up in Colquitt and Albany, Georgia and now lives in the Midwest. Charlee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails I anthology Fated Mates anthology HardWind Passion’s Mistral Shades of the Wind WesternWind: Reaper’s Revenge WesternWind: WyndRiver Sinner WindVerse: Ardor’s Leveche WindVerse: Phantom of the Wind WindVerse: Pleasure’s Foehn WindVerse: Prisoners of the Wind WindWorld: Desire’s Sirocco WindWorld: Longing’s Levant WindWorld: Lucien’s Khamsin WindWorld: Rapture’s Etesian
And see Charlotte Boyett-Compo’s stories at Cerridwen Press (www.cerridwenpress.com): BlackWind: Sean and Bronwyn BlackWind: Viraiden and Bronwyn Desert Wind In the Wind’s Eye Taken By the Wind
TEMPERATURE RISING Lena Matthews
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Lycra: E.I. du Pont de Nemours and Company
Temperature Rising
Chapter One “The man’s out to get me.” Danner Austin looked over his shoulder toward the fence separating his backyard from the yard of his neighbor and best friend, Wayne Cole, and chuckled. The voice, although familiar, wasn’t Wayne’s, but that of his younger sister Breanna, who had a grip on the fence as fierce as the frown on her face. “What’s up, Breanna?” Danner set the spatula down next to the steak browning on the grill and walked over toward her with a smile. Breanna was just what he needed right now. He’d had the day from hell and he could definitely use a dose from his own ray of sunshine. “I’m dying over here,” she grumbled before giving a quick shout and disappearing from view. Startled, Danner hurried to the fence, wondering if she was all right, but before he could hop on his table to peer into the yard, she popped back up. Breanna swore, as her pretty brown faced bobbed up and down for a second, before she was once again settled up high and looking over the fence with a rueful grin. Small in structure and in height, she was no bigger than a minute, and from the way her fingers gripped the fence like a lifeline, Danner knew she had to have been standing on something highly unsteady. Just his luck, she’d fall and break her neck on his watch. “What the hell are you standing on?” “This stupid wobbly chair, but it’s the least of my concerns.” “It is?” “Yes, I just heard over the radio that there are going to be rolling blackouts starting at six this evening. Guess which side of the city is going to be affected tonight?” Wincing sympathetically, Danner didn’t need to ask. The pained expression on Breanna’s face said it all. She had suffered from migraines for as long as he’d known the Cole family. Too much sun and heat made her sick. Danner had seen the weather literally take her to her knees, and it hadn’t been a pretty picture. It was a damn shame she picked one of the hottest summers in California’s history to come home for a visit. “Sorry, little bit. We’re experiencing a killer heat wave this summer.” “Tell me something I didn’t know,” she grumbled, her sexy full lips poking out in a pout. There was a lot Danner could tell her that she didn’t know, starting with the erotic dreams he kept having about her. Her almond-shaped hazel eyes haunted his thoughts, and her smooth caramel brown skin filled his fantasies. But that had nothing to do with anything, Danner hastily reminded himself. He needed to keep reminding himself she
65
Lena Matthews
was like a sister to him, front and center at all times. Or he’d likely do something he could never take back. “Anything I could do to help?” “I don’t suppose you have a battery-operated air conditioner you can lend me?” “I can’t say that I do.” Breanna sighed, laying her chin flat on top of her hand. She looked so disgruntled, it made him smile. The electricity shortage was hell on everyone, but Danner knew Breanna was getting the brunt of it. Even now, though she had only been outside for a few minutes, her forehead had begun to crease as if she were in pain. “Bree, you need to get back inside before you get a headache.” “It’s not much cooler in there.” Breanna frowned. “I made the stupid mistake of leaving the AC off when I went to the mall this afternoon and now it’s hotter than the sun in there.” “You want to come over? I’ll throw another steak on the grill for you.” “No. I think I’ll just take something and go to sleep. It’s hard to hurt when you’re passed out.” Damn it, he hated to see her in pain. He always had. Danner could remember many summer days when he and Wayne had to stay in the house and play because Breanna couldn’t go outside. Danner had never minded as much as Wayne did. Growing up an only child had made it more appealing for him to have Breanna tag along. Besides, there had been something so enchanting about the little hellion. “I bet you’re looking forward to Wayne coming home, so you can go back to Colorado.” “Not really. Weather aside, I’m going to miss a lot of things about being here.” Breanna’s big hazel eyes twinkled at him, smiling at him like someone with a secret. A secret Danner wanted to know. “Like?” Danner couldn’t help but ask. She was doing it again, pulling him into her smile. “The backyard conversations for one.” With a wink, Breanna was gone, leaving Danner staring after her. It was something he’d caught himself doing a lot lately. He didn’t know when, but somewhere along the line, little Breanna had turned into a real looker. Not that she hadn’t been cute as a kid, because she had. But recently, Danner had begun to look at her in an entirely new light. She was smart, sexy and his best friend’s sister. The combination just didn’t work. No matter how much he might want it to. Breanna was hands off, even if he couldn’t stop thinking of her. Suddenly the smell of burning meat penetrated his lust-fogged brain. Cursing, Danner rushed back to the grill, grimacing when he saw his steak shriveling on the open fire. That is what you get for thinking of Breanna that way, his conscience chided.
66
Temperature Rising
Fuck it, he thought, grabbing the water hose and soaking the coal and his newly made jerky at the same time. Better he toss his dinner away than his twenty-year friendship. His and Wayne’s relationship was more important than getting laid. Danner just had to keep reminding himself of that. Steak on prongs, Danner headed back into the house, pissed and hungry. As he entered the patio door, he passed the thermometer on the wall and cursed. It was a little after five and it was still in the high nineties. He’d adapted to the dry heat of the desert, but today still seemed overly warm to him. Poor Breanna must be suffering. That was it. Dropping the meat into the trash, Danner made up his mind. As a friend, it was his duty to take care of Breanna for Wayne. Hell, Wayne had practically ordered him to anyway, and Danner knew just what to do.
***** “Surf’s up, pretty mamma.” Breanna held onto the doorframe, trying hard to hold back her laughter. Danner was crazy. The proof was right in front of her, in living color. In one hand, he held a blue turtle embossed kiddy pool and in the other, he held a bag of ice. Dressed up like a lifeguard, he wore red swim trunks and a white blotch of sunscreen on his nose. Definitely too cute for words. If the heat didn’t give her a migraine, she was definitely going to get one from laughing too hard. “Baywatch recasting?” she teased, shaking her head. “No, I’ve got the cure to your migraine blues.” Hell, he had the cure to all that ailed her. He just didn’t know it. Danner had always been attractive to her, even at the tender age of six. With his bright blue eyes and dark brown wavy hair, Danner had epitomized the legacy of Sir Lancelot to her. In her youth, Breanna had likened him to the medieval heroes from her romance books, and there he’d stayed. Either the heat was getting to her or he was, because Breanna couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body. His bare chest and low-riding swim trunks were playing havoc on her senses and forcing an entirely different heat to scorch her body. “Which would be?” “Your own personal pool and lifeguard, of course.” Of course. Breanna watched Danner, amused. He was just too much. Breanna stepped back and allowed him to enter. She didn’t know what the heck he thought he was doing, but as usual she was willing to follow his lead. “Where did you get the pool?” “Mrs. Charleston from three doors down let me borrow it. Now you can kick back and relax while I keep the sharks at bay.” It was a good idea, but it was never going to work. “It’s too hot to go outside, Danner.” 67
Lena Matthews
“We’re not going outside, short stuff, we’re going to vacation inside.” We, Breanna liked the sound of ‘we’ on his lips. Leaning her back against the door, Breanna smiled indulgently. “And where are we going to put it?” Danner frowned as he looked around, until his eyes lit on the living room. “In here should do.” “Wayne will kill us if we soak his carpet.” “That’s why you’re going to line the floor with quilts and towels before we fill it.” “You’ve thought of everything.” “I try. Now you run upstairs and get the quilts and I’ll go get the other stuff from my condo.” “What stuff?” “It’s a surprise, short stuff, now go. We got less than a half hour before they shut us down. We need to get this place cooled off before then.” Still Breanna was rooted to the floor with surprise. “I can’t believe you did all this.” “Now, I can’t let my best girl get sick.” Danner dropped the plastic pool in the middle of the floor with a thud before heading past her to the kitchen. “You’re the little sister I never had, and besides, Wayne would kill me if something happened to you.” Ouch, like a knife in the heart. Breanna tried her best not to let her smile fall. The blow from his words got Breanna’s feet moving. Nothing like a kick in the face to wake a girl up. “Of course not.” “Hustle up them stairs and get the blankets babe. While I run next door.” Danner gave her a pat on her butt to send her on her way, confusing Breanna’s man sensor. His words made her feel like his kid sister, but his hands made her feel like a woman. She didn’t know what to think. Her crush on him was so cliché it hardly bore mentioning. Yet unlike her other childhood dreams, Breanna’s feelings for Danner had never wavered. From adolescence to womanhood, Danner had been the man of her dreams. The only one of her brother’s friends who had never treated her like a pest, he’d been her champion as well as friend, but Breanna wanted more. When her brother had asked her to housesit for him, Breanna had jumped at the opportunity. It had been a several years since she’d seen Danner and she was dying for the chance to show him she had grown up. Although things weren’t going quite like she had planned. Unfortunately, amid his notes to water the plants and pick up the mail, Wayne had neglected to mention the heat wave or the rolling blackouts. And thanks to her cursed migraines, Breanna was coming off more like an invalid than a seductress. She had given herself three weeks to get Danner to fall in love. Apparently she should have given them more time. At this rate, he would never see past his best friend’s sister to the woman she was now. 68
Temperature Rising
Wayne would be back in two days, and if Breanna didn’t do something, she would leave California the same way she came, as Danner’s friend. And Breanna didn’t want that to happen. What was she going to do? She was fast running out of time and ideas. Towels in hand, Breanna went to her bedroom to gather the quilt off her bed. When she spotted the red string of her bikini hanging out of the top drawer of her dresser, inspiration struck as quickly as the heat wave had. Slowly smiling, she shut her bedroom door with a plan in mind. If Danner wanted to play Baywatch, she’d give him something to guard.
69
Lena Matthews
Chapter Two Danner shut the door to Wayne’s condo with a frown. It was dark as hell in there and the electricity hadn’t even gone out yet. Walking to the living room, he deposited the ice chest on the ground, made his way over to the wall and flipped on the light. The soft-watt bulb did little to erase the dark, but at least he could see around the room. The foil paper he had helped Wayne put up on the windows in preparation for Breanna’s visit did a great job blocking out the light, but it also explained a lot about why Breanna couldn’t be outside for large periods of time. She was light sensitive. Her migraines were never going to get better if she continued to live like a mole. Taking his backpack off his shoulders, Danner began to unload the items he’d brought with him. Candles, matches, sun tanning oil, cards and a battery-operated radio would go a long way to while the hours away. Besides, if he kept busy, he’d be able to keep his hands off of her. As he set the candles out and began to light them, he heard Breanna come into the room. The sound of water hitting water brought a smile to his face. He was a freaking genius. “I have the pool filled, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do with the bag of ice.” That sounded like an opening he didn’t need to get into. “Bring it out and we can put it in the cooler.” “You’re the boss.” Damn, he liked the sound of those words coming from Breanna’s mouth. Working quickly, Danner set up the room for the perfect beach getaway. He situated everything around the pool, which now, thanks to Breanna, was flanked by towels and blankets and filled halfway up with cool water. Everything was as authentic as he could make it, given the short time he’d had and the material he had to work with. Danner had grabbed two lawn chairs from his garage and set them up near the couch with the ice cooler between them as a table. The soft sounds of ocean waves filled the room courtesy of the small CD player, and the candles he’d just lit gave the room a soft ambiance the harsh light from the sun never would have. Glancing around, Danner viewed the room with a smile. He’d outdone himself this time. The only thing missing from his homemade beach was sand and tourists. It was perfect. “Wow.” Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought so. “Danner, this is wonderful.” 70
Temperature Rising
“Of course it…” The cocky words fell from his lips as he turned and saw Breanna standing in the room, wearing the tiniest red bikini he’d ever seen in his life. Hell, it wasn’t a bathing suit. It was a blatant billboard for sex. The top consisted of two crimson triangles, which barely covered her full breasts. The large beauties seemed destined to pop out from behind their Lycra restraints at any moment, into the cool breeze blasting from the AC. The chilly air had her hardened nipples poking against the berry-stained cloth in the most mouthwatering of ways. Unable to control himself, Danner let his gaze sweep down her nubile, bronzed body. It was an unwise decision. The bottom of the bathing suit pulled taut between her legs, cupping her pussy like a lover’s hand. The suit was too much and not enough at the same time. It looked obscene and Danner wanted to rip it from her body, one triangle at a time, unveiling her chocolate flesh to his wanton gaze. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the waves crashing into the phantom shore were the only sounds in the room. Where the hell did she get that suit? Better question. Where the hell did she get that body? “Wow.” Danner didn’t know it was possible to pack so much desire into one little word. “Where do you want me to put the ice?” Down my pants. “Um, into the cooler.” “’Kay.” Breanna cruised by him like she didn’t have a care in the world. But then again, she wasn’t the one with the eight-inch rod trapped inside her pants. Quickly sitting in one of the lawn chairs, Danner leaned forward, hoping to hide his growing erection. Of all the things he would have expected to happen this evening, Breanna showing off her lithe, curvy body wasn’t one of them. “So now what?” she asked, plopping into the chair next to his. The way she sat down in the chair forced her breasts to jiggle in her sorry excuse of a top. Torn between wanting them to fall out and needing them to stay in, Danner felt himself at a crossroads of sorts. It was hard enough fighting his desire for Breanna from afar, but now that the battle had come closer to home, Danner didn’t know what to do. Maybe if he just ignored it, the desire would go away. It had worked for the last nine years, what was two more hours? “We just relax and enjoy the ocean view.” “You don’t seem too relaxed to me.” Twisting toward him, Breanna presented him with an even more tempting view of her sweet flesh. Her legs, smooth and dark, were crossed at the ankles, making the line up to her thighs and beyond even more enticing. And she wondered why that was? “Don’t you have…” Breanna leaned forward as to if to hear him clearer, stopping his words in their tracks. A hint of her dusky areola appeared at the side of one red triangle, beckoning Danner to come in for a closer look.
71
Lena Matthews
“Yes?” There was so much humor laced throughout the one word that it woke him from his stupor. Good God, did the AC go off? Danner felt like he was about to suffocate. He had to get himself together. Clearing his throat, Danner tried again. “Another bathing suit to wear?” “No. What’s wrong with this one?” “Nothing’s wrong with it, per se, it just reveals a lot of skin, don’t you think? A bit…risqué, isn’t it?” “A bit? I paid over a hundred dollars for this suit, it better be more than a bit risqué.” Reaching over, Breanna nudged his knee gently. Her hand felt like fire on his skin. Danner wondered if maybe he should be the one to jump in the pool to cool down. “It’s just the two of us here. Who’s going to know?” “I can’t believe you own that. I thought the sunlight gave you a headache.” Danner sounded disgruntled as he bent over and opened the ice chest. With a beer in his hand, he sat back up, eyeing her grumpily. “You can swim at night, you know, and besides, beaches aren’t the only places to wear a swimsuit.” Danner frowned as he opened up the can. “If Wayne were here…” “If Wayne were here, I wouldn’t be.” Breanna had grown tired of Danner throwing her brother in her face. “I’m a grown woman, Danner. If I want to show the entire world my piercing I will.” “Piercing!” Beer flew everywhere at Danner’s surprise. Smiling secretively, Breanna stood up and walked over to the edge of the pool. She knew her lie would get his attention. “I’m thinking you’re protesting a bit too much. I think you like the way I look in this. You just don’t want to admit it.” “I’d have to be dead not to, Bree.” The beer can tightening in his hand could be heard clear across the room, and although the gist of the words were what she wanted to hear, Danner’s tone left a lot to be desired. The plan called for him to be overcome with lust, not irritation. With her back to him, Breanna pondered her next step. There was interest there. That much was obvious. But Breanna had no idea what do next. Short of dropping her bikini and saying “Take me”, that is. She never thought Danner would fight this hard, but she should have. He was as stubborn as he was handsome. Breanna peered down into the pool hesitantly. The house had cooled down considerably, but she didn’t want all of Danner’s hard work to be in vain. Bracing herself for the water, Breanna moved to step into the pool. “It’s going to be cold.” Danner spoke from directly behind her, startling Breanna into bringing her foot away from the pool. She hadn’t heard him move, but she felt him now.
72
Temperature Rising
His warm presence evaporated any hint of chill she might have felt. Breanna knew without a doubt, if she stepped into the pool right then, she wouldn’t even feel the cold water. “Wasn’t that the idea?” “Actually it’s more for looks.” “Like you.” Danner chuckled hoarsely, his voice wrapping around her like silk. “What do you mean?” “I mean,” Breanna turned and faced him, inhaling his masculine scent as she did. Danner still smelled like the outdoors. Sunshine, charcoal, heat from a fire. Everything of man that was good and earthy. “You come over here looking all kinds of good, in your low-riding swim trunks and bare chest, and you have the nerve to criticize my outfit.” “I didn’t criticize. I’m just surprised.” His words were gruff, his manner stiff, yet Breanna could read the underlying tension flowing from him to her. “About?” Danner frowned as he ran his hand through his hair. He looked flustered and upset. Not the emotions Breanna had been going for. “That you grew up so fast. Where was I?” Smiling slowly, Breanna had to fight her need to reach out and touch him. She wouldn’t be the first to give in on this. She couldn’t be. “Right there. You just weren’t looking.” “I’m looking now, Breanna. Isn’t that what you wanted?” “Is it what you want?” “No.” He closed his eyes, tormented. Danner stepped away from her, as if her presence caused him pain. “This isn’t right. You’re like a sister to me.” “I’m not your sister.” “Wayne is my best friend.” Even Breanna could tell he was reaching. Why the hell did he feel the need to fight so hard? “Wayne isn’t here.” “You’ll hate me once the lights come back on.” They were so close, yet the distance between them was great. “I’ll hate you if you don’t touch me. Touch me, Danner. Make me yours.” Breanna moved a step closer, until there was nothing but breath between them. Her words dared him to touch her, and her body begged him for more. Her words lingered between them like a challenge, yet Breanna wouldn’t have pulled them back to save her life. She was tired of pretending. Tired of playing games. She wanted Danner and finally, she knew he wanted her too.
73
Lena Matthews
The humming of the AC suddenly came to a grinding halt, as the lights went out, leaving them staring silently into each other’s eyes. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows on his rigid frame, and although he never moved, there was something about his body’s demeanor that didn’t seem stiff any longer. Breanna’s heart pounded as she nervously licked her lips. It was now or never. “It’s going to get hot in here.” “It already is.”
74
Temperature Rising
Chapter Three Good intentions be damned. Danner could no more walk away from Breanna than he could walk on water. There would be no denying his hunger any longer. He knew what he was about to do. In acting on his desires, he would be betraying his best friend. Breanna was the one temptation he couldn’t resist and Danner couldn’t walk away from her if he tried. “There’s no going back after this, short stuff,” Danner said huskily. Pulling her to him, he leaned down toward her tempting mouth, then paused. He wanted her to understand, like he did, the ramifications of their actions. “I don’t want to go back, Danner. I just want you.” His mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue plunged between her lips, securing her mouth in one move. She tasted of sweet, sugary goodness, and he ate at her mouth, savoring her flavor, committing it to memory. But just a taste wasn’t enough. Danner needed to have all of her. Growling, Danner picked her up and swung her away from the pool as her arms wrapped around his neck tightly. They didn’t get further than the sofa, where he laid her down on her back. Desire rippled through him as he pressed his hard length against the tender juncture of her thighs. The angle felt a bit difficult to work with because of the height difference, but Danner was more than willing to bend his body to hers. “Do you know how hard you have me?” Breanna undulated her hips, smiling as she brushed her mound against him. “I think I have an idea.” “You have no idea,” he breathed into her ear, pressing down into her. “You purposely wore this excuse of an outfit, didn’t you? You wanted to drive me out of my mind.” “No. I—” Danner gently sank his teeth into the slender slope of her neck, cutting off Breanna’s words in one single nip. Chuckling against her skin, Danner licked at the imprint of his teeth before trailing his tongue up to her ear. “Liar,” he whispered. Breanna shuddered around him, fueling him on. “I’m going to fuck your sweet pussy. Ride you until you can’t walk, possess you ‘til the only thought in your head is me. I’m going to give you what we both want. And to hell with the consequences.” Wrapping her legs around his body, Breanna moaned low in her throat as she rocked up into him. “Stop talking and fuck me.” 75
Lena Matthews
“As you wish.” Danner rose off the couch quickly, shoving his trunks to the floor. In his rush to be inside her, he kicked over the lawn chair. As he undressed, Breanna sat up, hooking her thumbs in her bikini bottom and pushing it down her legs. “Wait.” Freezing, she looked up at him questioningly. “I’ll take it from here. Lie back baby.” With a sexy smile, Breanna did as he instructed, and not for the first time that day Danner cursed the blackout. The candles gave fleeting light, but he wanted to see everything. The first time with a new lover was a visual banquet, and Danner hated like hell he wouldn’t get to look his fill of Breanna. But what he couldn’t see with his eyes, he would see with his hand. Easing onto the couch, Danner eyed her rumpled top with a smile. The damn thing had been giving him fits. It was about time something worthwhile was done with the teasing nuisance. “How about we put this top to good use?” Licking her lips, Breanna reached out and brushed her hand against his chest. “What did you have mind?” “Does it matter?” She shook her head no. “I’m yours, Danner. Any way you want me, you can have me.” Her words made him damn near cream his shorts. Full and utter control of the women he desired was a complete high for him. He would never do anything to hurt her, but he knew so many different things he could do to please her. Starting off with binding her hands. Breanna eased up on her elbows as he worked quickly to take off her top. Little more than a thin shred of material and string, the top quickly came undone in his hands. It had hardly covered her body, but it would work out just fine securing her wrists. Danner leaned forward to bind her, placing his pale cock in the valley between Breanna’s mocha-tinged breasts as he did so. His pre-cum leaked between her twin peaks, which were pulled together because of the position he had her hands in. The feeling of being buried between her breasts was exquisite, but the image was even more breathtaking. Pausing, Danner looked down hungrily at the scene beneath him. Every time he pushed forward, the pale head of his cock would come crowning out of her dark beauties. The mingling colors were an erotic feast. The sight alone made his balls ache to release his seed all over her waiting flesh. Breanna lifted her head, blocking his view of the visual masterpiece, but Danner didn’t need sight to know what she was doing. He could feel her lips surrounding his crown, licking the juices that were coating his cock.
76
Temperature Rising
Danner released her now-bound hands and sat back on his heels, purposely keeping his cock between her breasts. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. She looked like a fallen angel. Her black hair cascading beneath her framed her face like a dark velvet pillow, and her face looked like a wet dream in 3D. Breanna’s eyes were filled with passion, and her mouth glistened with the evidence of his arousal. “God you're beautiful,” he groaned, moving down her body. If he didn’t get inside her he would die, but first he had to taste her sweet pussy. Kissing down the valley of her breasts, Danner paused to lavish her puckered peaks with his tongue. He wanted to take time to worship her beautiful breasts, but there was something else calling to him he could no longer ignore. His fingers parted the damp curls covering her dark lips and he leaned forward to inhale her enthralling aroma. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and his cock jerked, as if begging for its turn. But this wasn’t something Danner wanted to rush. “No piercing.” ‘No.” her voice was husky and filled with need. “I was just kidding.” “Funny.” Slipping his tongue between her folds, Danner groaned as her fragrant juices flowed into his mouth. He could feast between her legs all day, surviving on her sweet fluid for sustenance alone. Her cries urged him on. And his fingers soon joined his mouth in their exploration of her body. He lapped at her pussy, making time to milk her swollen clit with his lips. Her cream-laden slit parted as he slid two fingers into her wet center. Breanna’s orgasm damn near bucked him off her. Bringing her bound hands down, she wound her fingers in his hair, pressing him down onto her as she arched up to his tongue, screaming his name as she came. “Danner… God…yes…” Her chants shattered the air as Danner pulled back to blow gently on her aroused bud. Jerking, she released his hair and brought her hands back to the top of the couch, grasping at the arm as if in need of an anchor. With a groan, Danner moved up her body, centering his cock at the mouth of her sweet pussy. Gripping his hands in her hair, he stared down into the dark pools of her eyes, needing to watch her as he took her for the first time. “You taste so good baby,” he murmured. “I bet you’ll feel even better.” “Fill me, Danner. Fuck me.” Groaning, Danner surged forward. Her heat exploded around him as he tried to plow into her body, to no avail. Breanna wasn’t a virgin, but she felt tight as hell. It took two full strokes before he could bury himself into her completely, but it was worth the effort. She had taken him all, swallowed his length within her welcoming body. His cock filled her completely, stretching her.
77
Lena Matthews
“So good,” he groaned. She felt as small on the inside as she looked on the outside. “Take more, sweet baby. Take more.” He was balls deep inside his bronzed beauty, moving at a measured tempo. The slow pace was killing him, but Danner gritted his teeth and bared it. Her tight, wet pussy clung to his cock like a second skin, surrounding his thick length in a grip tighter than any hand ever had. Breanna felt stretched full. Although she had come seconds earlier, Breanna once again felt like she was on the precipice of erupting pleasure. Never would she have imagined sex with Danner could be so good. His talented tongue had brought her so quickly to orgasm that she had seen stars. “Damn, baby,” he groaned, giving another painstakingly slow thrust. Whimpering, she dug her nails into her palms. Breanna understood the reason behind his restraint, but she wanted more. Faster, harder, more. With her hands bound, she felt freer than she would have thought possible. The constraints made her feel vulnerable, yet safe at the same time. She was under Danner’s control, and she loved it. “Please,” she begged. “Harder, Danner, please.” “I don’t want to hurt you baby.” His voice came out a guttural growl. He had to be dying for more, like she was. “You won’t. You can’t.” Gripping her thigh in his hand, Danner angled her to take him deeper. His downward strokes sped up as he powered into her. As if completely in tune with her wants and desires, Danner thrust into her, his tempo finally at the beat her body craved. He directed her hips to move in small circles, so her clit brushed against the coarse curls of his pubic hair. The motion sent little bolts of lightning throughout her body. She grew wetter. Her body opened more, making Danner’s thrusts into her smoother. He knew exactly what to do to make her body respond. Pressed into the cushions of the sofa, Breanna gave her body over to the fiery demands of Danner’s passion. Their bodies were in tune with one another. She followed his lead, like a partner on the dance floor. He slid a hand down her arm, coming to rest on the makeshift binding. “Nobody,” he bit out. “Nobody has felt this good.” “Danner…” was all she could say, her mind too far gone to utter anything of importance. “I want it to last forever. I want to pump forever inside you, but it’s too good. You’re too good.” Danner released his hold on her wrists to take her breast in his hand. Lowering his mouth, he took one aching nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Suckling it between his lips, Danner surprised her by biting down gently on the nub. 78
Temperature Rising
“Oh…jeez… Oh!” The sharp nip shocked and aroused her all the more. He was trying to kill her with pleasure. Danner cursed. Tilting her up, he rode her harder, pushing deeper as he ground against her. “Yes…fuck…come for me baby. Come.” “Danner…ohh…” Crying out his name, Breanna arched up into him, her body shaking as she came vigorously around him. It was hard to catch her breath. Breanna felt as if she was being swallowed whole. Grasping for something to hold on, Breanna whimpered, her words trailing off into sobs as she rippled around him. Danner continued to power into her, and just when Breanna thought that Danner would go all night, he gave a few short pumps and pulled himself roughly out of her body. Fisting his cock, Danner jerked his hand several times, blasting his hot semen onto her sweaty flesh. His body shook above her, as he fought to maintain his balance. “Fuck…fuck…” Dropping to the side, Danner lay next to her on a narrow length of the couch, watching her with stormy eyes. Breanna brought her hands down from above her head, and used her elbow and legs to scoot herself over to give him more room. Her body felt like a quivering mass of pudding, her breathing shallow and harsh in the silent room. Sometime while they had been making love, the CD had ended, and only the sounds of their ragged breathing filled the air. His semen dripping toward the couch dragged Breanna’s gaze from Danner’s. Wincing, she brought her hands toward her stomach, trying to quickly wipe up their mess. It was one thing to fuck on her brother’s couch, quite another to stain it for life. “Let me,” Danner spoke quietly, reaching between them to untie her hands. With her crumbled top, he wiped at her stomach then the little dots that dripped onto the couch, all without saying another word. Flexing her sore wrists, Breanna longed to touch Danner. To wipe away the weariness she saw on his face, but his stiff posture forced her to hold back. The silence between them spoke volumes of his remorse, but for Breanna it was different. There was no guilt or shame, and as far as she was concerned, there never would be any. If tomorrow they parted ways as friends, she would be deeply sad, but she would always have this memory to take with her. She’d loved Danner for years. And love was never wrong.
79
Lena Matthews
Chapter Four Danner knew by all rights, he should have been filled with some sense of moral disgust at what he had just done, yet all he could feel was content. The feeling of completeness could not be explained to his brain, but it overwhelmed his heart. This was right. They belonged together. And it wasn’t just his comatose penis talking. Although his cock had fucked itself into a stupor, Danner wasn’t giving it a say in the matter. Sex had never been better for him, but it wasn’t just the sex. Other things were leading him on, like the overwhelming emotions gripping his heart. He was in love with Breanna. Even telling Wayne about them seemed like the least of his concerns right now. Danner had another, more pressing issue to think about. He had to break it to Breanna that he wasn’t letting her go. “Breanna…” Moving quickly, Breanna covered his lips with her finger. “If you’re going to say you’re sorry, don’t bother.” Sorry! The only thing Danner was sorry about was that they hadn’t done this sooner. “I wasn’t.” He spoke around her pressing finger. “Good, because I don’t want to hear any of that garbage.” Danner went to speak once more, only to be cut off by Breanna again. “Or that it was a mistake. Or that we shouldn’t have. Or anything that begins with, ends with or has Wayne’s name in the middle.” Capturing her hand, Danner moved it away from his mouth. “Goodnight short stuff, when did you get so bossy? I wasn’t going to say any of that.” “Oh.” “Yeah, ‘oh’ is right.” Kissing her fingers, he watched her eyes crinkle at the corners. She really thought he was going to just push her away. Apparently Breanna didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. “I can’t say sorry for something I’m not sorry about. You are the sweetest gift a man could ever hope for.” “Wow.” Danner chuckled. “I had a few wow moments myself.” She smiled, the look of concern fading from her eyes. “So you don’t consider this a mistake?” The worry in her tone tore at his heart. “Definitely not.”
80
Temperature Rising
This was far from a mistake. His lips covered hers. Hunger sedated, the kiss was not one of fiery passion, but one of tender triumph. Gently he stroked his tongue against her, making love to her mouth as he had yet to do to her body, soft and slow. Danner separated from her with a very un-masculine sigh, which brought a chuckle from him. One heated session of loving and he was acting like a lovesick fool. Truly he could stay like this all day, entangled within her embrace. The only thing holding him back from doing just that was the warmth rising around them. The room felt as if it was swelling with heat. Looking down at Breanna, Danner frowned. Dewdrops of perspiration had begun to coat her lips. “Are you feeling okay?” “I feel wonderful.” She teasingly brushed a kiss against his neck. “Don’t you know that sex is a cure for migraines? Supposedly it’s the best medicine around.” “Really,” Danner slid his hand down her side, damp from their satisfying workout. “Are you ready for a refill?” “Should I take it orally or…” “Most definitely or…” Teasing aside, Breanna definitely felt a little warm to him. He didn’t want to chance Breanna getting ill. “Does your head hurt?” “I feel fine daddy.” Brat. Danner brought his hand down on the curve of her lush bottom. The smack echoed throughout the dimly lit room. “Let’s try that again. How are you really feeling?” “Sore, soaked and thoroughly fucked. Should I thank you now or later?” “I’m talking about your head, short stuff.” Brushing her hair off her forehead, Danner looked down at her seriously. “I don’t want you getting a headache.” “It’s a bit stuffy in here, but what can we do about it? I’d rather be making love with you than sitting under the air conditioner at the mall.” “I hope so.” Danner couldn’t help but tease as he sat up on the couch. As he stood up, he glanced around the room. His beach looked as if it had been hit by a mini typhoon. One of the lawn chairs lay turned over on its side, clothes were thrown everywhere and only a few candlewicks remained lit. It seemed as if Wayne would be killing him for more than one reason. Fuck it. If he had to die, he might as well die happy. Danner looked back down at Breanna, who was stretched out on the couch, looking entirely too good for his peace of mind, and cock, which had begun to stir the second she smiled at him. “Looks like someone is ready for round two.” Three, four and five. Danner bent down and swept up a laughing Breanna in his arms. “But I have an idea.”
81
Lena Matthews
“So far, I’ve loved all of your ideas.” That was about to change. “I think we need to cool you down first.” With a raised brow, Breanna peered up at him seductively. “What did you have in mind?” Stepping away from the couch, Danner dropped down onto his knees and turned to face the pool. “This.” Breanna screamed as Danner dropped her into the pool. The cool water was like a shock to her overheated and overworked system. “You bastard.” “Now, now, short stuff. I thought you liked all of my ideas.” “This water is freezing,” she sputtered, trying to stand up. But Danner had other plans. Leaning over, he held on to her shoulders, keeping her seated in the cold pool. “It’s only cool until you get used to it.” “You get used to it.” “All right, I will.” Climbing into the pool, Danner sat down next to her without uttering a peep. “Happy now?” Breanna got to her knees quickly and opened up the ice chest, extracting several cubes. Quick as lightning, she shimmied over to him, and dropped her hand under the water to cup his cock, ice cubes and all. His bellow of outrage almost made up for his actions. “Yes I believe that I am.” “Have you heard of shrinkage?” “Have you heard of revenge?” She climbed onto his lap, facing him with a smile. “And I would be more worried about blue balls if I were you.’ “You’re a cruel, cruel woman.” “Talk about cruel. Kiddy pool Siberia was your idea, pal.” “I’ll keep you warm.” “I thought the plan was to cool me down.” Danner dipped his fingers into water, then brought them out and flickered the cool water onto her skin. “I’d say mission accomplished.” At Breanna’s shriek, he laughed, bringing his hands up to her arms and rubbing them briskly up and down. “Now it’s time for me to warm you up.” Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Breanna pulled him close and rested her head on his shoulder. Suddenly the water didn’t feel so cold. In fact, she began to feel increasingly warm. Her nipples, which were ridged peaks, pressed into his chest as she shivered closer to him. Yet she had never felt better. The mere way they were sitting— naked, breasts to chest, heart to heart—warmed her from the inside out. She felt at home. His hands drew invisible pictures on her back as Danner caressed her, warming her flesh and her heart. 82
Temperature Rising
“I’ve pictured you like this forever,” Breanna whispered, lost in the sensation of his touch. “Naked and limp in a kiddy pool?” “No, you big geek.” Breanna pulled back from his chest so she could see his face. There was no room for secrets now. “I mean, you in my arms. Me, in yours.” Surprise danced across his face quickly. It happened so quickly, Breanna wondered if it was a play of the candlelight, but Danner’s hold on her tightened and he pulled her back into his arms, until she was resting once more against his chest. “Forever is a long time to wait for something. Was it worth it?” “Oh yes.” Breanna didn’t even have to hesitate. The answer was crystal clear. “I’ve thought about you this way, as well.” “For how long?” He paused, as if in thought. “How long have you been legal?” Laughing, Breanna pushed into him. He had to be kidding. “Shut up. How come you’ve never said anything until now?” “I never saw that swimsuit before.” “I thought you hated it.” “Hate is an awfully strong word.” Danner’s hands cruised from her back down to her rear, his fingers slipping between the crease of her cheeks. Breanna jumped, startled at his touch. “Can I help you back there?” “No thank you. I think I’m doing fine on my own.” “Don’t you think it’s a little too cold in here to being doing that?” Or anywhere for that matter. Never had a lover touched Breanna in such an intimate way before. “It’s never too cold to play with your ass. I have several years of ass-play to make up for.” “You don’t have to do it all in one night.” Her voice quivered, but this time it had nothing to do with the cold. The way she was sitting on his lap, chest forward, buttocks pushed back, left her rosette prime for the taking, and Danner didn’t waste anytime familiarizing himself with it. Gasping, Breanna fought to control her hips as he feathered the tips of his fingers against her puckered hole. The water made her entrance slick, but not loose enough to let him enter. Danner reached over the side of the pool and felt around until he brought up the suntan oil. “What are you going to do with that?” Although she asked, Breanna was far from caring. “You’ll see,” Danner replied, drizzling the oil down her back and into the valley of her ass. Breanna tensed, preparing herself for his invasion, afraid that he would just 83
Lena Matthews
plunge into her virgin hole. But Danner had other plans. His fingers caressed and teased her, never fully entering her tight opening, he just patiently lubed her rosette with the oil. His teasing strokes were driving her mad, and just when she wanted to plunge herself down on his probing fingers, Danner pressed against her slicked entrance, pushing up into her with the tip of his finger. “Ahhhh…”Breanna whimpered. “It’s too much.” “You can take it love. I’m just going to warm you up a bit,” Danner promised as he continued his maddening search and siege, teasing her resistant hole until he was finally able to work his finger all the way in. “I’m warm…no, hot.” She groaned, biting her lip against the pleasure and the pain. “Yes baby, you were saying,” he teased. His finger delved inside her, opening her up to a sensation she never thought to explore. Moving her over a bit, Danner slipped his thigh between her parted legs. Breanna felt so wet as she rubbed her aroused bud against his thigh in accord with his thrust in her ass. The sensation from his fingers and those coming from her clit quickly had her over the edge again, and before Breanna knew it she was coming again. “Oh my….” she moaned, whimpering as Danner slipped out of her. Un-fuckingbelievable. She had just come from getting her ass finger-fucked while she was humping his leg in a kiddy pool. They were so going to hell. “Come on baby, get up.” “Where are we going now?” She moved off his lap into the narrow space left in the pool, standing only when Danner rose and pulled her up. On her rise to her feet, she noted something else that had risen as well. “I thought you were worried about shrinkage.” “What can I say?” Danner grinned leeringly. “He came back with a vengeance.” Reaching out, Breanna took his cock, chilled from the water but hard as steel in her hand, and began to lovingly stroke him. After their little round of turtle pool foreplay, she was extremely interested in getting him inside her again. “So where are we going now?” “To the shower.” “The shower?” “Yes,” Danner stepped out of the pool before turning to help her out. “I have this little fantasy that I think we should visit.” “You had a fantasy about me and you in the shower?” “Oh yes. Ever since I walked in on you in the bathroom the summer your parents took us to Spring Lake.” The memory came up fast and clear in her mind. She had just turned seventeen and Danner and Wayne had been home from college. “That was nine years ago.”
84
Temperature Rising
“I know.” He headed up the steps, pulling Breanna behind him. Tugging on his hand, Breanna stopped before going up the stairs. “Danner, that was over nine years ago. You’ve wanted me that long?” Stepping down on the landing, Danner cupped her chin in his hand. “Darlin’, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want you.
85
Lena Matthews
Chapter Five Steam rose in the candlelit bathroom as Danner pulled back the dark green curtain to stare at the erotic image before him. While he had gathered towels and lit the candles, Breanna had started the water and stepped into the shower before him. Looking at her in the mist-like waterfall, Danner was glad that she had. Now here was a fantasy worth waiting for. Breanna looked like a wet dream come true, literally and figuratively. The warm water pelted her dark skin, cascading her flesh with wet caresses. The candlelight made the water appear electric, casting her body in a shimmering glow. Her smile was as inviting as the picturesque vision she made, and like the sirens of folklore, Danner couldn’t resist her call. “Do you need help?” Danner asked as he stepped into the shower behind her, surprised that his voice had come out even. He felt like a randy teenager with his first girl, not like the experienced man that he was. It was a mind trip to have an actual fantasy come to life. “Of course,” she smiled, as she stepped forward to give him more room. “It’s your fantasy, after all. Speaking of your fantasy, what all does it consist of anyway?” “Actually, at twenty my fantasies were really rough. It consisted of you in the shower and me fucking your brains out. No finesse, not romantic. Just straight up humping and coming.” Breanna chuckled. “Humping and coming, there’s a visual.” “I told you, not very original.” “I like it though. It has a dirty quality about it that’s irresistible.” Eyeing the shelves, Danner came up with another idea. “Can I wash your hair?” “Only if you’re going to spend the next few hours blow drying, pressing it and styling it.” “Ahh come on, it’s part of the fantasy.” Breanna raised a brow mockingly. “Two seconds ago, it was just humping and coming.” “Humping, coming and cleaning.” “I see…” she smiled, stepping back to let the water soak her hair. After it was completely wet, she handed him the shampoo and turned her back to him. “But if I have a ‘fro for the rest of the day, you have no one to blame but yourself.”
86
Temperature Rising
“Angela Davis was very sexy in Foxy Brown.” Her thick tresses seemed to encase his fingers as he lathered guava-scented shampoo into her scalp, dragging moans of pleasure from her lips. “Feel good?” “Feels great.” Breanna practically purred as Danner continued his scalp massage. He took longer than he normally would on himself, enjoying the way pampering Breanna made him feel. It was something he could definitely get used to. When he was through, he ran his hands down her neck to her shoulders, kneading her silky wet flesh. “God…” she moaned. “Can I keep you?” Danner paused for a second before answering. Her words startled him, but they were welcomed nevertheless. Forever with Breanna was an idea that felt like a long time in coming. “Only if I don’t keep you first.” Stepping away, Breanna turned so she could rinse her hair. Eyes closed, neck tilted back, she looked like a temptress. Suds ran down her body, accentuating the places he’d explored and the ones he had yet to. She looked like a vision of saturated beauty. Her nipples were beaded. Just right for the taking. “Eyes up here big boy.” Stepping from under the spray, Breanna grabbed her sponge and soap from the corner of the stall. Quickly squeezing the melon-scented fragrance gel onto her sponge, she began to lather his chest, slowly making her way down to his wayward cock. “This shower thing is a good idea. I like you all slippery and hard.” “The damn fool won’t stay down.” “Who wants him to?” she teased, gripping his cock in her hand. The slippery soap was the best lubricant Danner had ever felt. Her fingers slid over his erection as if she were trying to commit the feel of him to memory. Breanna’s touch was so sensual, so arousing, that Danner thought he’d go off at any moment. He had never been so worked up from a mere hand job alone. Her touch was like heaven on earth. “Stop,” he said hoarsely, pulling her hand from around his cock. “Stop? I don’t think so.” Breanna reached behind her and took the shower nozzle off the wall, spraying his cock free of soap. Even the stinging spray felt good. Danner was beyond ready for her, but Breanna had other ideas. Dropping the nozzle to the floor, she pushed him backward until he was standing flush against the cool tile. “I’m just getting started.” Breanna dropped to her knees in front of him, gripping his thighs to steady herself as she looked up at him, her hunger rampant in her eyes. Fuck coming. He wanted to fuck her so bad he could taste it, but the need to feel her mouth around his cock was just as strong.
87
Lena Matthews
With her hands on his thighs as a lever, Breanna pulled him forward, taking his cock into her mouth. “Jeezee…” Danner arms shot out, hands flat on the shower wall, trying to hold himself up. Her mouth was as hot as her pussy had been, and just as heavenly. Breanna couldn’t get enough of Danner’s cock. He tasted like saltwater taffy. Sweet and brackish all at the same time. Using her hand as a second source of pleasure, Breanna pumped him as she familiarized herself with the feel of him. Beneath her fervent hand, his cock seemed to grow, expanding in her grip and her mouth. “Fuck baby…fuck…” With a hungry moan, she took more of his rigid length into her mouth. His groans of pleasure urged her on. Breanna wanted to make him feel at least half as good as he had made her feel downstairs on the couch. His salty pre-cum leaked, adding extra moisture to her motions. Her hand sped up as her mouth sucked harder. Danner brought his hand down to her hair. Wrapping his fingers around her wet locks, he pistoned inside her mouth for a few strokes. Fucking her face as he groaned up above her, before he finally pulled back from her mouth. “Stop, baby.” Panting, Breanna looked up at him, before glancing back to his throbbing cock. “Why?” “Because I want to fuck you.” Danner pulled her to her feet as he spoke. Picking her up, he spun around until she was propped up against the wall. As much as she was enjoying sucking his cock, Breanna could find no fault with his new plan. She wanted him inside her, as much as he wanted her. Wet and aching for him, Breanna clung to him. Her desperation for him was so consuming it was as if the loving downstairs had never occurred. “God, Bree, you drive me wild.” His hand slipped between them, positioning his cock against her wet entrance, and he thrust home with one stroke. “Dan…” Breanna flexed around him, her body welcoming him back. “Your mouth is divine, but nothing compares to this. Nothing,” he growled as he thrust up into her. Digging her nails into his shoulders, Breanna held on with all her might as Danner drove into her over and over again. His grip on her waist tightened as she wrapped her legs around his lower back. Pleasure seemed to spill out of every pore as he pounded into her. Breanna was still tender from their earlier jaunt, but she welcomed his fierce thrusts, happy at least that he was back inside her where he belonged. Never before had it hurt so good. Her body hummed as if awakened from a long slumber, her need so great she could hardly breathe. And like a crashing wave upon the shore, her orgasm came plowing into her. His name was a cry on her lips, as she bucked up into him. “Dan…Dannn…”
88
Temperature Rising
“Let go baby, let go,” Danner urged, pulling himself from her tight sheath. His seed spilled like an arch over the curtain and down on the floor. Hardly coherent, Breanna stood on shaky legs, trembling from her own release. She felt weak and her heart pounded violently as she tried to catch her breath. “I have got to get some condoms!” he groaned, leaning back against the wall. “Fuck.” Laughing, Breanna leaned into him, needing his strength to stand. The man had damn near fucked her into a coma, and he was just now worried about condoms. And looking at the splatter of semen on the shower curtain made her chuckle even harder. “I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty design.” “You would.” He chuckled. Leaning down he brushed his lips against hers, smiling as he did so. “You’re so beautiful. ‘Fro and all.” “Asshole,” Breanna stuck out her tongue teasingly. “I warned you.” “That you did, but I still think you look utterly…” The dull roar of the air conditioner spilled over their teasing words as the bathroom light flipped on. Startled, Breanna pushed back the shower curtain and screamed. Her high-pitched sound was met by her brother’s roar of disgust. “What the fuck?”
89
Lena Matthews
Chapter Six “Downstairs, now!” Wayne ordered before slamming the door shut behind him. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” Breanna clung to the shower curtain so tight she began to pull it off the rod. Danner had gone from shell-shocked to action mode. His first concern was for Breanna. He had to make sure she was okay. Then he could go try to salvage his twenty-year friendship. “Bree, calm down.” Taking her hands in his, Danner eased her hands away from the curtain, taking her trembling body into his arms. “Calm down, are you kidding?” Pulling away from him, she reached out and yanked a towel down from the rack. “My brother saw us making love. Naked, for Christ’s sake! This is some Jerry Springer shit right here.” “No one’s calling Springer. Knowing Wayne like I do, he’s probably as horrified as we are.” “What is he even doing back?” That was a question Danner would have loved to have the answer to as well. Wrapping the towel around her, Breanna faced him with her hands on her hips. “I’m going to kill him. He wasn’t supposed to be back for two more days.” “Something must have come up.” The last thing Danner wanted was for Breanna to get upset. If she wasn’t careful, she’d bring a migraine on fast. And after everything he’d done today to keep her migraine free, he wasn’t going to let anything upset her now. “Give me ten minutes to talk to him and everything will be fine.” “I’m not letting you go down there by yourself.” “Breanna.” All cuddling aside, Danner was adamant about this. This was between him and Wayne, and knowing his best friend, fists might get to flying. “Give me ten minutes, then you can come down. I need to talk to him first.” “Is this macho male shit?” “Is there ever any other kind of shit?” Dropping a kiss on her wrinkled brow, Danner smiled before brushing his lips against hers. “Everything will be fine.” “If it isn’t, I’m going to grab a frying pan and beat him in the head ‘til the pink meat shows.” “Okay, honey. I’ll tell him you said so.”
90
Temperature Rising
With a towel around his waist, Danner quickly made his way down the stairs, wanting to talk to Wayne before Breanna came down. It was his responsibility as friend and lover to fix this before the siblings tore into each other. Danner had originally planned to talk to Wayne, maybe over a beer or two, when he was dressed and it wasn’t so obvious that he’d just fucked the man’s sister in his own shower. Thinking back, Danner should have moved their lovefest hours ago. Leaving life to fate had really turned around and kicked him in the ass. When he reached the living room, Wayne was standing looking angrily down at the mess he and Breanna had made. Seeing the room from his point of view had Danner feeling worse than he had in the shower. So far, things weren’t looking too good. Wayne frowned when he spotted the towel, and bent over to pick up the shorts Danner had taken off in his haste to make love with Breanna from the floor. “Looking for these?” “I knew where they were.” Danner knew that if he came off all apologetic, Wayne would see it as weakness and probably see it as him trying to make excuses. But there were no excuses to be made, and the apology Danner felt the need to offer was for having the bad taste to conduct their physical relationship in Wayne’s condo. If anything, that was the only thing he was sorry for. Tossing Danner the shorts, Wayne righted the lawn chair, and eyed the pool warily. “Should I even ask where you got the pool?” “Mrs. Charleston.” “Ahh…” Wayne nodded his head as if it all made sense. “And it’s in my living room because…” “I was trying to make Breanna feel better.” “With a kiddy pool and a six pack?” “The beer was for me.” “And the pool was for?” The fifty questions game was getting old real fast. “Is this what you really want to talk about, the fucking pool?” “Oh, I don’t know. I was trying to work my way up to the scarring image in my brain of you two having sex in my shower.” Wayne’s voice had intensified with his words. “My fucking shower, man!” “Look, if you’re mad at me then take it out on me. But lower your voice, I don’t want you upsetting Breanna.” “Did you just tell me to lower my voice?” Wayne roared and ripped the cushion off the couch. “You got your love juice on my two thousand dollar couch and you’re telling me to lower my voice. Are you fucking mad?” “Yes,” Danner’s voice rose as well. “I must be. But what about you? Are you mad?” “Hell yes, I’m mad. I just bought this couch.”
91
Lena Matthews
“Not about the fucking couch, you ass. About me and Breanna.” “Do you think I would have extended my stay in fucking Alaska for a week, freezing my balls off, if I was worried about you and Breanna. Hell, I took the extra time for you fucking two, eating more fish then I ever want to eat. Confused as hell about the time of day, just so you two could be together. And do I get a thanks? No. I get to come home and find you two bumping uglies in my shower. For that alone, I should kick your white ass up and down the street.” Shocked at Wayne’s outburst, Danner felt like he was frozen in place. Talk about a big what the fuck moment. “You planned this?” Snorting, Wayne tossed the soiled pillow at Danner, who caught it out of pure reflex. He was still too stunned to do anything more then gape at his friend. “Of course I planned this. I don’t have a dog or plants that aren’t plastic. Why on earth would I need Breanna to housesit? You live next door, for cripes sake. If I needed anything seriously done, you could have done it.” “Then why have her come over?” “Because I get tired of you two pussyfooting around with your questions. ‘Is she seeing anyone?’ ‘How’s Danner doing, is he still seeing the model?’ You guys were driving me out of my ever-loving mind with the he’s and the she’s.” Still grumpy, he sat down in one of the lawn chairs and grabbed a beer from the cooler. “I figured I’d play Chuck Woolery just this once, and if a love connection happened, all the better, but if not, at least you two could finally talk to each other and leave me the hell out of it. I mean really, give a brother a break, buy a phone and call her your damn self.” “So you’re okay with this?” “Danner, clean out your ears man. I’m fine with it. Just don’t make this a sex thing or I’ll have to kill you. You hurt my sister and I’m going break my size fifteens off in your narrow ass.” “I’m not going to hurt her, Wayne. I love her.” “You love her?” The shock in Wayne’s voice was nothing compared to that of the shock in Breanna’s voice. “You love me?”
***** Eyes wide, Breanna stared at Danner in shock. She had damn near missed the bottom step when she heard him say that. In all the different ways she had imagined Danner telling her he loved her, in front of her brother seconds after they had been caught having sex had never been one of them. Something about the aftershock took away from the moment. “It would appear so, sis.” “Shut up Wayne.” Breanna was in no mood to deal with her brother right now.
92
Temperature Rising
“I thought you were going to stay upstairs.” Danner’s cheeks were stained with his embarrassment. “You thought wrong.” “Hey, I think you should be nicer to the guy who just professed his love for you.” “Wayne…” “Shut up.” Danner finished for her, turning to her brother and frowning. “Don’t you have somewhere you should be?” “You mean, like in my apartment, minding my own business.” Gritting her teeth, Breanna faced her brother with murder in her eyes. He was enjoying this way too much. “Get out and come back in two days, like you said.” “No,” he grinned, taking a drink from his beer. “You might have more sex and then I’ll have to burn down my condo.” “I’m going to kill you…”Breanna jumped toward her brother, intent on killing him for ruining her moment, but was caught in Danner’s arms and tossed over his shoulder instead. “Are you going to take his side?” “No,” he said, walking out of the living room into the kitchen. “We’ll kill him later, but right now we need to talk.” Breanna glared upside down at Wayne, who was grinning broadly at their retreating forms. When this was all over, he was going down. Once they entered the kitchen, Danner sat her down on the kitchen island and stepped back away from her. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “So you have nothing to say?” “Yes I do. Fucking Wayne ruins everything. I could…” “I’m not talking about Wayne, Breanna. I’m talking about what I said.” “That’s what I’m talking about, he ruined it.” Breanna wanted to cry. She had been waiting for what felt like a lifetime to hear Danner say that to her. “He didn’t ruin it…” Sighing, Danner walked to her and lifted her chin up with his fingers. “We can try it again.” “It’s not the same.” “Let’s give it a shot.” Danner rested his forehead against hers and lovingly looked into her eyes. “Hey Breanna, guess what?” “What?” Her voice was thick with tears, but this time it was tears of joy. Leave it to Danner to make it right with a single touch. “I love you.” “You know, I think I heard that somewhere before.” “And you know what else?” “What?” “I think you love me too.”
93
Lena Matthews
Breanna’s laughter bubbled out, a thick combination of tears, snot and joy. “Yeah, you might be right about that too.” They met halfway, their lips intermingling as Danner stepped closer to her, pulling her lower body against him. She arched into him, pressing her breasts into his chest. Moaning softly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on for dear life. His kisses were a lot like love, a scary roller coaster ride that felt never-ending. She loved him. And he loved her back. “Damn it, will you two stop having sex in my house?” Wayne’s voice rang out, drawing the two apart. “You live next door for Christ’s sake.” “Fine, I’m taking her back to my place, but if you don’t see us for a few days, don’t blame me.” “Okay, that’s just more than I wanted to hear. She’s my sister!” Amused, Breanna tilted her head to the side, watching him stomp off. “You know, for a man who was trying to get us together, he sure is acting awfully grumpy.” “Must be the jism on the couch,” Danner said with a straight face. Fighting back laughter, Breanna nodded. “Then we should get out of here before he sees the shower curtain.” “Oh shit. I forgot about that.” Danner laughed as he helped her down off the counter. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her quickly out the door and into the wet night air. “Well, will you look at that?” The rain pouring down from the dark night sky startled Breanna. With all the making love and talks of love, she hadn’t even noticed the heat. The desert air seemed cool at last and the smell of the earth surrounded the lovers, embracing them in the shroud of sodden darkness. “Maybe we’re going to get a break from all the heat.” Breanna couldn’t help the hint of hope in her voice. “I don’t know,” Danner looked down at her with a smile. “I think we will have to deal with the heat for a while.” “Are you willing to keep me cool?” “Most definitely.”
94
About the Author Lena Matthews spends her days dreaming about handsome heroes and her nights with her own personal hero. Married to her college sweetheart, she is the proud mother of an extremely smart toddler, three evil dogs, and a mess of ants that she can't seem to get rid of. When not writing, she can be found reading, watching movies, lifting up the cushions on the couch to look for batteries for the remote control and plotting different ways to bring Buffy back on the air. Lena welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Lena Matthews Friends With Benefits with Maggie Casper Stud Muffin Wanted
VIRTUOSITY Kris Starr
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Porsche Carrera GT: Dr. Ing. h.c.F. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft
Kris Starr
Prologue
Three years ago “Commander Walker, according to Headquarters’ most recent reports the Korgons have abandoned this quadrant on the planet’s southeastern continent. Take Commander Cashmore and Lieutenant Pilon with you to the surface, and verify that the site is abandoned,” Captain Reid Egiet said, indicating an area on the holographic video grid. “Commander Nelson, I want you to accompany Lieutenant Vale and me to quadrant 323-F to investigate the unusual power fluctuations we’ve been monitoring.” Dillon Walker spared a glance at her husband. As Roger Nelson nodded his acknowledgement to Captain Egiet, Dillon straightened in her chair and leaned in over the conference room table. “Captain, I’ve been examining the readings on those power fluctuations and I’d actually like to go study them more closely. Permission to switch teams with Commander Nelson?” Dillon met her husband’s gaze and noted the twinkle of amusement in his gray eyes. The captain nodded. “Permission granted. Commander Nelson?” Roger inclined his head briefly. “Not a problem, Captain. Dillon has been doing a lot of research on these types of power fluctuations, so she would be better suited for the job.” “Fine,” the captain said, rising from the conference table. “Dismissed. I will meet you all on the Teleport platform shortly.” Dillon had turned to leave the captain’s conference room when a voice sounded low and warm over her shoulder. “Trying to give me the cushy job, are you?” Dillon turned her head to smile at her husband. “You got me. Are you going to complain?” Roger’s voice was pitched lower as they waited for the Lift doors to open. “Not at all. You do realize, though, that this cakewalk will leave me with all kinds of energy tonight, don’t you?” Dillon’s stomach suddenly spiraled with somersaults and a rush of heat flooded her belly. Just the idea of sex with Roger made her immediately want him inside her. Suddenly feeling more than a little naughty, she laughed softly. “Want to get naked? Is that what you’re talking about?” Roger’s answering cocky grin told Dillon everything she needed to know, but as the Lift doors closed, he leaned closer to her and whispered quietly in her ear. “I want to make you come over and over. You make me crazy, Dillon. I love you.”
98
Virtuosity
Dillon exhaled softly as a thrill washed over her. “You make me crazy, too. I love you more than anything, Roger. And I’ll tell you something—I won’t be the only one coming over and over tonight.” Roger’s sharp intake of breath said it all. The first sign of trouble had come when Dillon’s team had teleported to the planet’s surface. Dillon stared at the source of the power fluctuations, a growing fear putting a lump in her belly. “Captain!” Dillon shouted. “This isn’t right!” Captain Egiet appeared beside her. “What is it, Commander?” Dillon pointed to the small black metal device sitting atop the rocky outcropping. “Something’s wrong, Captain. It looks like an old emergency homing beacon, but look at the smaller piece attached to the right side of the cube. It’s not supposed to be there.” She pointed her remote sensor at the device, giving the object another scan. The captain frowned. “It looks almost like a scanner. Why would someone attach a scanning device to a homing beacon? And why were we getting other readings on board ship?” Suddenly Dillon’s fingers were icy-cold, despite the planet’s humid atmosphere. The data on her viewscreen didn’t make sense. A thought clicked into her head, and with a frightened rush of breath she said, “Unless it’s not a homing beacon at all.” She paused, the hair on the back of her neck rising. “The other landing coordinates. Where are they?” Lieutenant Kyra Vale pointed beyond the dimly glowing object. “The other team landed over there. The same direction that device is pointing…” Her words trailed off and she quickly pushed a button on her wrist communicator. “Kyra to Roger. Come in.” “Nelson here. What is it, Kyra?” Dillon shuddered visibly with relief at the sound of Roger’s voice. She pushed the button on her own communicator. “It’s Dillon, Roger. Something is very wrong. I think you need to get out of there. This device isn’t a homing beacon, like we originally thought. We—” Her words were cut off by the sound of an explosion. Dillon’s stomach rose into her throat as the unmistakable shriek of Korgon weapons firing reverberated through the air. She screamed into her communicator. “It’s a trap, Roger! All of you! Get out! It’s a trap!” There was no response.
99
Kris Starr
Chapter One Dillon angrily swiped at a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. Three years, and the memories still had the power to devastate her. Living the day all over again at today’s Inquiry hadn’t helped in the least, either. With a soft whirr, the doors of the Lift slid open, and Dillon began to make her way down the quiet corridor. Suddenly she paused. No. She wasn’t going to go to her quarters and weep and wail for the rest of the night. She’d done enough of that three years ago. Reversing direction, Dillon turned down another corridor. A number of the senior crew had agreed to meet in Level Two for drinks as a way of unwinding after the day’s stress. Dillon had originally begged off, thinking she’d rather be alone, but now that she thought about it, alone was the last place she wanted to be. Entering the lounge, Dillon spotted Kyra Vale along with several other female officers at a table near the bar. Kyra waved Dillon over. “Pull up a chair, Dil,” Kyra said, her words slurring almost imperceptibly. Obviously the group had been in the lounge for quite some time already. Dillon sat, eying the beverages on the table. “What are those?” “We don’t know. Silk hasn’t named ‘em yet. But hell, I don’t care what he calls ‘em. They’re good. This one here is for you.” Kyra pushed the glass over to Dillon, her voice sobering briefly. “They’re on the house tonight. Silk said he wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Picking up her glass, Dillon glanced over to the cute bartender and raised her glass in a toast. He raised his own in reply. The drink was visually lovely—four different alien liquors were blended such that the drink resembled the sky of an Earth sunrise—and after taking a sip, Dillon discovered it also packed one hell of an intoxicating wallop. The assembled women were silent for a long moment. Dillon cleared her throat, momentarily at a loss as to what to say. Thankfully, the dark-haired Chief of Security made Dillon’s decision easy. “Before you say anything, Dil,” Kyra began, “we’ve all decided that we’re not talking about the Inquiry tonight. Ridiculous as it might be, we’re ignoring it for now, and we’ve all agreed that tonight’s a good night to get smashing drunk. Agreed?” With a small smile and a shake of her head, Dillon agreed. “Sounds fair, Kyra. I’ve done enough talking today about serious things to last me for a while. And I don’t know about smashing drunk, but I’ll certainly join you for a few.” Dillon’s words were greeted with somewhat subdued yet heartfelt cheers.
100
Virtuosity
After three rounds of Silk’s cocktail, the women seated at the table were relaxed enough to begin dishing on their sex lives. Surprisingly, the unanimous vote was in favor of the HoloSuite. “I tell ya, Dil,” Kyra said, with more than a hint of a slur to her words, “you’ve gotta try it one of these days. The whole junior security crew has made up a lover. In some cases, several lovers. Isn’t that right, Xar?” Kyra turned to the woman on her left. Xar grinned boldly. “You better believe it, honey. I gotta tell you about the new guy I made up the other night. Muscles from top to bottom and a cock as big as a sausage. And he can go all night, too.” Kyra laughed coarsely. “See, Dee? You need a good fuck. The HoloSuite can give that to you. No commitments, no emotional messes—just good old sex. Any time, anywhere, any way.” Dillon shook her head vehemently. “No way, Kyra. I’m not having sex with a hologram. No matter how good looking he is, or how talented. It’s just not in the cards for me. Besides, I’ve been on a few dates—” Kyra gestured in Silk’s direction, indicating that the table should have another round. She turned back to Dillon again. “A few dates? If I remember correctly, there was Diar from Engineering, and Siion from the MediLab. And those were both over a year ago. And I happen to know that neither got more than a kiss out of you, even though Diar thought you were incredibly sexy. How long have you known me, Dil? Why can’t you just trust me on this one? Get it out of your system. Ease your tension. Nobody has to know the details.” She gave a wicked grin. “Except for us, right girls?” Picking up a fresh drink, Kyra raised the glass in a toast. “Here’s to Commander Dillon Walker. May she get screwed somethin’ fine—and soon.” Dillon grinned wryly and knocked back her drink. Obviously, Kyra wasn’t going to take no for an answer. And frankly, Dillon was feeling just a little bit bold about the whole thing. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the feel of a hard cock pumping in and out of her again? Maybe the idea had some merits. Well, it was worth exploring in more detail, anyway. “So ladies,” she began, passingly distressed that her mouth didn’t seem to be working properly, “what kinds of things have you done in the HoloSuites, anyway?” If she was going to have to listen to Kyra’s pestering, she might as well enjoy herself. Some time later, Dillon found herself standing at the entrance to HoloSuite 4A, not entirely sure how she had made it there. What she did know, however, was that she was hornier than she’d been in a long time. Sitting there, listening to the girls’ descriptions of their sexual exploits—oral sex, threesomes, bigger groups, role-playing, every single sexual position under the sun—Dillon had become so wet, her panties were soaked. She had crossed and uncrossed her legs so many times her thighs were chafed. Now was the time. If she was going to do this crazy, stupid thing, she had to do it immediately.
101
Kris Starr
Taking a deep breath, Dillon addressed the ship’s computer. “Computer.” “Please identify,” answered the soft female voice. “Commander Dillon Walker, security code Alpha-Epsilon-Beta, five-one-twoeight.” “Confirmed. Ready, Commander.” “Computer, begin a new HoloSuite program. Create a human male, aged thirtytwo. Caucasian. Brown-haired and green-eyed. Clean-shaven. Six feet, four inches. Two hundred pounds. Um…very muscular.” Dillon hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling a little bit embarrassed. Taking another deep breath, she blurted out the last thing she could think of. “Larger than average genitalia.” “Purpose?” The computer system queried. “Physical pleasure.” Dillon forced saliva past the sudden lump in her throat. “Comp—computer…make him want me.” The computer system beeped and whirred briefly. Then the computer voice spoke again. “Acknowledged. Please identify name of human male.” “A name?” Dillon blinked owlishly for a moment, the request taking a moment to sink through her alcohol-soaked brain. Finally, she gave up. “Computer, randomly select a Caucasian male name from twenty-first century Earth.” More beeps and buzzes. “Program complete. Enter when ready.” Dillon was suddenly struck by a wave of nausea. What the fuck was she doing? Jesus. This was insane. She turned, intent on running away from the HoloSuite as fast as she could, but then froze as a random, niggling thought popped into her head. What did the computer come up with? What does he look like? Suddenly more curious than ashamed, Dillon turned and stepped up to the doorway. The huge panels slid apart with a pneumatic sigh. Holy shit. Because she hadn’t added any other specifications to the program, the HoloSuite was empty, save for the man standing in front of her. Dillon’s first thought was, Jesus, he’s hot. Her second thought was, He’s buck-naked. It was as if the computer had reached into her brain and taken her image of the perfect man out of her psyche. He was incredible. Tousled, light brown hair fell disheveled onto his forehead. Knife-edge cheekbones and a square jaw made him look just a little bit dangerous, even though his clear, green-eyed gaze was calm and open. He had full lips and a mouth that begged to be kissed. Dillon blinked through her drunken haze, gaping openly at the man’s sculpted pecs, bulging biceps and solid six-pack of ab muscles, before her gaze landed squarely on his package. Holy crap. Unaroused, his cock looked to be at least five or six inches,
102
Virtuosity
and Dillon swallowed a sudden flood of saliva that had filled her mouth. Score one for the computer. Instantly self-conscious for gazing at him so blatantly, Dillon averted her eyes and coughed softly. “Computer,” she said softly, “give me a Rivan.” The drink, and the small shelf it was seated on, suddenly appeared at Dillon’s elbow. She grabbed the shot and tossed it back, in an attempt to bolster her courage. Slamming the glass down, she met her would-be lover’s gaze head-on. “What’s your name?” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, the liquor burning a fiery path down to her belly. “Aidan.” His voice was deep and smooth. Sexy enough to make a shiver slide instantly down her spine. Dillon blinked. The name suited him perfectly. Score two for the computer. “Well, Aidan. It’s nice to meet you. As much as I appreciate your…ah…assets, I think you need to be dressed.” Dillon grinned boldly, the alcohol making quick work of her anxiety. “Computer, give Aidan some clothing.” The computer complied, instantly dressing Aidan in a standard-issue dark-green crew uniform. Dillon’s mouth dried instantly. How could he look even sexier dressed? It didn’t seem possible. Dillon cleared her throat again and looked at Aidan for a long moment, drinking in his pure maleness, reveling in the perfection that he seemed to encompass. “Aidan, do you know why I’m here?” A slow, sexy smile curved the hologram’s lips, and the sight of it was like a punch in the stomach. Dillon groaned softly, suddenly understanding a little more clearly just how the other women got into these programs so easily. “Your program requirements indicate that you seek a human male for pleasure purposes.” Dillon’s mouth didn’t seem to want to work again, dammit. “Correct.” She struggled with the word. “I am versed in several thousand forms of human pleasure, so I am positive you will find me most…accommodating.” Several thousand? Jee-sus. “But do you feel desire, Aidan? Or is it just your programming?” Obviously sensing her nervousness and confusion, Aidan moved closer. “Dillon, I find your feminine qualities to be most attractive. You are arousing.” Despite her mild discomfort, Dillon snorted with laughter. “Okay, Aidan. Let’s get something straight. I need you to be more colloquial in your language. I can’t take you seriously, otherwise.” There was a pause as the program adjusted, then Aidan nodded. “You got it.” He moved close enough so that Dillon could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. His gaze was
103
Kris Starr
intense, almost predatory. Dillon shivered, despite herself. “I’m whatever you want me to be, Dillon. That’s my purpose. I will worship you, if you want. I don’t have to touch you, or I can learn every inch of your skin. We can make love, or we can fuck. It’s all up to you.” A wave of dizzying desire washed over Dillon, and for a moment she was unable to function, or even think. No one had ever been this intense around her. Not even Roger. Her stomach did a slow somersault, and her blood began to pound in her ears. Still quite intoxicated, she suddenly wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t dreaming. Well, there was only one way to find out. “Do you want me, Aidan?” The words were little more than a whisper, and not for the first time, Dillon was ashamed at her naiveté. For God’s sake, wasn’t she a grown woman? Couldn’t she be proud of her body, of her sexuality? The twinge of anger emboldened her. Aidan’s gaze traveled a slow path down her body, caressing her with its intensity, then traveled back up, leaving a trail of fire behind. When his gaze met hers again, Dillon was startled to see that his eyes had darkened with need. “More than you know.” Dillon shivered again, her nipples suddenly tightening under her clothing, a rush of heat between her thighs. She reached up a hand and traced her fingers along his jaw, reveling briefly at just how solid he was, how real. His skin was smooth, and she caressed him almost cautiously. “You feel good.” The words came on the breath of a sigh. Aidan’s eyes drifted shut briefly, his jaw tensing and his breath quickening. Dillon laughed softly at the sudden flash of power that surged through her. Spontaneously riding that wave, Dillon rose up on her toes and brushed her lips over his. It was as though a lightning bolt had struck. An electrical fusion suddenly sparked through her, and Dillon’s world spun dizzyingly around her. Not contented with just that brief taste, Dillon kissed him again, this time, pressing her lips more firmly against his. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and Aidan’s pure, masculine scent enveloped her, sending another wave of spiraling pleasure over her. Suddenly, everything was gone— the ship, her job, responsibilities… All that remained around Dillon was pleasure—and she couldn’t get enough. Opening her mouth, Dillon traced Aidan’s lips with her tongue, flicking it against his mouth, teasingly requesting entrance. When he finally parted his lips and met her tongue with his own, Dillon’s knees felt like jelly. His mouth was hot and wet and delicious. His tongue stroked hers, intimating all that he could do to her entire body. One of Aidan’s arms was around her, grasping her to him possessively, pressing her against his long, muscular form. The other cupped the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair.
104
Virtuosity
Dillon’s hands landed on Aidan’s chest and she gasped around his kiss at the hard feel of him and the heat of his skin. Suddenly Aidan gentled his embrace, the hand that had been behind her back sliding forward to her side, his thumb slowly brushing against the underside of her breast. For a split second, Dillon’s legs threatened to buckle under her. Her stomach did a long, slow roll, and she lightly bit Aidan’s bottom lip in a gesture of want, of need. He groaned softly, and as his hand turned to cup her breast in his palm, still stroking her agonizingly slowly through the fabric of her officer’s uniform, she mewled in response. Apparently with a new goal in mind, Aidan broke the kiss, nibbling his way along Dillon’s jaw, the barest hint of stubble roughly caressing her skin until he reached her ear. Giving her lobe a nip with his teeth, Aidan then licked his way down the side of her neck, his breath icy hot against her damp skin. His hand abruptly stopped worshipping her breast, sliding ever-so-slowly to her breastbone, his fingers lightly searching. Dillon gave the briefest throaty laugh, appreciating again the foresight of the Fleet’s uniform designers who had placed a hidden zipper that ran from neckline to crotch down the front of its officers’ basic uniforms. With only the briefest hesitation, she slipped her arms around Aidan’s shoulders, sliding her fingers into his hair. Aidan’s tongue had commuted around to the front of Dillon’s throat, and she tilted her head back to give him easier access. Locating the zipper pull at last, Aidan grasped it and slowly began to pull it down. With an almost sensual purr, the closure complied, parting to reveal more of Dillon’s skin. Inclining his head, Aidan’s tongue followed the path of the zipper pull, tasting each new inch of exposed flesh. Hands sliding up to grasp both halves of the navy blue fabric, Aidan eased each side over Dillon’s shoulders, placing a kiss on each one and tracing her collarbone with his tongue. Lost in sensation, Dillon shuddered with want. Her skin felt so hot and tight, as though steam were escaping and rising off her. Unconsciously she tangled her fingers tightly in Aidan’s thick, soft hair, wordlessly urging him lower. She was torn between wanting him to go faster and plunge straight into her, into the abyss of pleasure she yearned for, and wanting his mouth to stay above her breasts just the way it was now, forever. Dillon’s breathing was coming in broken gasps, and she marveled briefly at how she could be in an empty HoloSuite and how this man—this stranger—could merely touch her and turn her into a wanton, sex-starved nymphomaniac. A knot suddenly formed in her stomach. Jesus. At that moment, Aidan’s tongue slipped deftly into the valley between her breasts, slowly stroking her skin, and Dillon froze. What in hell did she think she was doing? Shoving Aidan away from her, Dillon fumbled clumsily with her clothing, pulling the fabric back over her shoulders and yanking up the zipper. Cheeks flushed with
105
Kris Starr
shame and desire, she guiltily avoided Aidan’s gaze, and in true flustered Dillon fashion, began to babble. “Uh, listen. This wasn’t a good idea. I’m not sure I should have done this. I’ve got to go. You take care.” Shuffling backward on wobbly legs, Dillon slipped between the HoloSuite doors as soon as the gap between them was wide enough and fled down the corridor.
106
Virtuosity
Chapter Two Dillon placed the crew evaluation down on her work surface and brought her fingers up to rub her temples. Wearily, she leaned back in her chair, her gaze idly flitting around her sparsely furnished quarters until it rested on a framed photograph of herself and Roger, taken several years ago when they were both on a week’s leave. Another stab of guilt poked into her heart at the sight of Roger’s chiseled cheekbones and sexy smile. How could she have touched Aidan, let alone kissed him, with a paper artifact like that reminding her of what she’d had, what Roger had been? Compounding that, and warring with it for supremacy in her consciousness, was the Inquiry verdict. The captain had quietly mentioned to her last night after their crew meeting that a verdict was expected today. In her soul Dillon knew she was innocent. How could her actions have caused Roger’s death, along with the deaths of two other crew members? She’d done nothing wrong—all current Fleet procedures had been followed—it was merely a fluke that had her changing places with Roger. She should be dead, not him. And what in hell gave her the right to be experiencing the mind-blowing sensation of Aidan’s tongue between her breasts? Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened in the HoloSuite for days now. With a gut-deep sigh, Dillon removed the pin that held her tidy bun in place, allowing her long blonde hair to spill about her shoulders. She lowered her forehead to the sleek desk, willing the furniture to swallow her whole, take her away from this mess that she’d created. She didn’t deserve happiness or pleasure. Hell, Dillon knew it was pathetic and ridiculous to think so, but a bout of self-pity such as this tended to push those kinds of thoughts to the forefront. But just because the thought had surfaced was no reason for her to continue the train of thought. Pushing herself upright and rubbing at the probable red mark on her brow, Dillon turned her portable computer terminal toward her. Work was the answer. Well, it had done the trick for her up until now. “First Officer’s log. Entry for date 114.375.9.” The computer blipped obligingly. “Crew evaluations are nearly complete. Nothing else is scheduled for the next twelve hours, other than an engine diagnostic running in Engineering at thirteenhundred hours.” Dillon paused, her gaze floating back to the photo.
107
Kris Starr
“Nothing else to do except to wait for the damned verdict. I can’t even go up to the bridge right now. Damn Egiet for dumping these evaluations on me. And there’s no way I’m going to the HoloSuite. No way.” Dillon tapped her fingers restlessly on the desktop, her self-pity evolving into frustration—not for the first time today, either. “I mean, it’s not like I’m the only one under scrutiny for that Away mission. Kyra had to face the accusations, too—and so have Sheridan, Pagan and Petersen. Even Egiet’s been questioned. It’s only because of my study of the power fluctuations. How did I miss the fact that the readings were slightly different than the prior samples?” No longer able to sit still, Dillon began to pace the length of her quarters, the sound of the door chime not altering her stride. “Enter.” The door slid open with a hiss, and Kyra entered. “Kyra.” Dillon slumped into a seat at the small round table off to the side of the room. “What’s new?” Kyra seated herself across from Dillon. “Not much, Dil. I just finished my shift and thought I’d come by to see you. I take it you haven’t heard anything yet?” She hesitated, frowning. “Or maybe you have. You look upset.” Dillon shook her head. “No, I haven’t heard anything yet. I’m just aggravated and irritated all at once, and it’s making me incredibly cranky. I’m sorry.” Dillon forced a small smile for her friend’s benefit. The petite woman shook her head. “No need to apologize. I was just as stressed out as you when I had my turn in front of the Council. As Chief Security Officer, I was raked over the coals pretty thoroughly, too. Remember?” Dillon nodded and exhaled softly. “I know. I’m just having so much trouble dealing with this right now. There are too many things—” She broke off, suddenly wary of revealing too much. Aidan was her guilty, decadent secret. But Dillon and Kyra hadn’t been friends since Cadet training for nothing. With a narrowing of Kyra’s eyes, it was obvious the woman hadn’t ignored the words Dillon had left unsaid. Dillon quickly, albeit fruitlessly, tried to cover her tracks. “I can’t concentrate on those crew evaluations, not to mention the Engineering test later today.” Kyra wasn’t buying it. “That’s not it, Dillon, and you know it. You’re much too strong and hardworking to let this Inquiry completely drive you over the edge like this. Come to think of it, you’ve been acting a little oddly since the night we were drinking in Level Two. And you left earlier than the rest of us—right in the middle of Xar’s story about her HoloSuite lover and the jar of chocolate syrup—” Kyra’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You didn’t, did you?” When Dillon hesitated just a split second too long before denying doing anything, Kyra pounced on that fact. “You did! You went to the HoloSuite and had yourself a little fun!” Glee made the usually stern-faced officer bounce excitedly in her seat.
108
Virtuosity
Dillon raised a hand, attempting to stave off further questioning. “Yes, I went to the HoloSuite. Yes, I created a man,” Dillon exhaled softly, “and no, I didn’t have fun.” Kyra tsked and shook her head. “It’s all right, Dillon. I guess I can tell you that it’s okay to move on until my face turns blue but that won’t make you actually act on it.” She rose from her seat. “When you hear the news, let me know, okay? I’ll buy you a round in Level Two.” Dillon rose as well, and embraced her friend tightly. The guilt of Dillon’s little white lie exacerbated the weight in her heart, but she shrugged it off. What the hell? What’s a little more guilt among friends? After Kyra’s departure, Dillon returned to staring uncomprehendingly at the evaluations, but the words could have been written in Korgonian and their meaning would have been clearer. Closing her eyes, Dillon could almost feel Aidan’s mouth on her skin. Her nipples hardened with his phantom touch and Dillon shuddered with remembered pleasure. He felt so good, and it had been so long… Oh, Roger. Jerking almost violently out of her chair, Dillon began pacing, her near-calm state after Kyra’s visit now a forgotten memory. Dillon’s pacing had nearly worn a track in the floor when the door chime rang again. This time, the doors slid apart revealing Captain Egiet. Dillon’s heart constricted painfully. “Come in, Captain. Here to give me the bad news in person, I see.” Egiet’s presence filled Dillon’s quarters, despite his average physical size. “Now, Commander. That attitude won’t help you in any way.” Dillon slowed, her frustration running out of steam. “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m just frustrated, as I’m sure you can understand.” Egiet nodded thoughtfully. “I can, Dillon. It’s not hard to imagine how difficult this has been for you—not only the death of your husband, but the subsequent accusation that you actually had something to do with it. Frankly, I’m quite surprised that you handled this as well as you have until now.” Dillon’s cheeks warmed, unprepared as she was for the compliment. She felt sufficiently humbled, and her irritation began to melt. Egiet smiled, his stern face changing dramatically—something that still surprised Dillon, after all these years of serving with the gentleman. “I’m sure you can surmise that I have the verdict.” Dillon nodded slowly, afraid to speak or even breathe. “You were cleared, Dillon. Completely cleared of all suspicion. Three of the Council’s own Engineers examined the power fluctuation data independently and determined that the differences were similar enough to be acceptably considered mere variances in power strength. They surmised, as you did, that the slight differences could have been caused by the severe weather storms that had been occurring on the planet
109
Kris Starr
surface at the time of the reading. There was no way of knowing that the Korgons were using the storms to cloak their actions in preparing an ambush. No way at all.” Dillon’s cheeks tingled as her face at once paled, then flushed. Her mouth wobbled strangely as she tried to form speech, and she sat clumsily on the cushioned seat beside her as her legs suddenly refused to support her. Egiet seated himself next to her, placing a fatherly arm about her shoulders. “You can say goodbye now, Dillon,” he said softly. “Roger would want you to move on. Let him go. You know he wouldn’t want you to live this way.” Dillon nodded again, blinking against the hot sting of tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. Her gaze pleading, she stared at a man she respected and honored beyond most. She had to force the words out, almost painfully. “Is it really over now, Reid? Truly?” Egiet inclined his head and smiled gently at her, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s over, Dillon. Over.” Once again, Dillon found herself standing outside the doors of one of the HoloSuites, but even though she was stone sober, she still trembled. Her body alternated between chills and flushes, and she crossed her arms tightly over her abdomen as a way of controlling herself. “Computer,” Dillon began, her voice nothing more than a rough whisper, “load HoloSuite program Aidan 101.” Clicks and whirrs indicated compliance. Exhaling purposefully, Dillon stepped to the doorway and closed her eyes. The pneumatic whoosh was painfully loud in her ears and she hesitated for the briefest of moments. She searched for Roger’s image in her mind. His square jaw, easy smile and gray eyes flickered easily into view. “I’ll always love you, Roger,” Dillon whispered on the barest of breaths, “but I need to let you go. Goodbye, sweetheart.” The burn of tears stung her eyes, but she fought them back. Finally opening her eyes, she gazed at Aidan, who waited patiently in the empty room. Stepping inside, the doors closed behind her, separating her from her memories. “Is everything all right, Dillon?” Aidan asked, his voice low, soothing. “You seem upset.” Dillon nodded jerkily, still entwined in multiple threads of emotion. “Aidan, access Away Team logs for date 143.465.98.” Aidan’s head tilted slightly to one side, the only indication of internal activity. His eyes widened briefly, then, and his expression became sorrowful. “Oh, Dillon. I’m so very sorry. Commander Nelson was a highly respected member of this ship’s crew.”
110
Virtuosity
Aidan paused, his gaze thoughtful. “And he must have been a wonderful man for you to love him as much as I think you do.” Dillon nodded, amazed at the hologram’s perception. “He was. I didn’t think I could ever open up to anyone else. I thought I killed him, Aidan. You don’t know what that feeling is like. I found out just now that I was cleared of all suspicion in Roger’s death, and the deaths of Commander Cashmore and Lieutenant Pilon. I was so sure I did something wrong that guilt has consumed me for the last three years. “But it wasn’t my fault, Aidan. It’s over now. I can let Roger go. It hurts, but maybe not as much as it used to. You’ve reminded me of what it feels like to live, and I need that now, more than anything.” With trembling fingers, Dillon reached for her uniform’s zipper pull and began to slowly slide it down. “You’re all I’ve thought about for days, Aidan. I can’t help myself. I need you.” Aidan’s eyes glowed with green fire as the halves of Dillon’s uniform slid apart. One hand continued the zipper’s path downward, and the other reached up to touch the newly bared skin. “Come here, Aidan.” The hologram needed no other persuasion, though his movements were carefully controlled, almost catlike. Slipping behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently caressed her. “I’m here for whatever you need, Dillon. Tell me what you want.” Dillon leaned back, her head resting on Aidan’s shoulder. She stopped pulling as the zipper reached her waist. “Touch me.” With a deep intake of breath, Aidan’s hands slipped forward, barely touching her breasts, until he grasped both halves of her uniform. Nudging her hair out of the way with his chin, he placed a slow, gentle kiss on the side of her neck and pulled the fabric off her shoulders and down her arms, effectively trapping her movements. Releasing her uniform, Aidan’s hands cupped her bare breasts, stroking them and gently squeezing the soft globes. Licking a trail of icy fire up her neck with his hot tongue, he pulled at her nipples with thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a breathy whimper from Dillon. She squirmed pleasurably under his touch, pressing herself more firmly back into him, feeling the ridge of his already hard cock pressing into her backside. She shifted her hips, rubbing herself against him, and he growled softly in her ear. “Watch what you’re doing, Dillon. You might just make me lose control.” Dillon chuckled throatily. “Maybe I want you to lose control. Maybe I want both of us to lose control.” With a non-committal grunt, Aidan increased his worship of her breasts, plucking at her nipples, teasing them, rolling them under his palms until Dillon groaned with frustration.
111
Kris Starr
“More, Aidan. I need more,” she groaned. Suddenly, one breast was bereft of pleasure as Aidan located the zipper pull and began tugging it lower. The discovery that Dillon was completely naked under her uniform elicited a sharp gasp, and he immediately plunged his hand inside her uniform, sliding his fingers over her wet pussy. Between sucking kisses on her neck, Aidan muttered, “So wet, Dillon. You’re hot and wet for me. I want you to come.” With Aidan’s mouth and hands stroking, flicking and sucking her body into a fever pitch and her hands partially trapped and helpless, Dillon shuddered uncontrollably. “Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll come so hard I’ll shatter into a million pieces,” she gasped. Dillon could sense Aidan’s smile as his lips again touched her neck. “Then I’ll put the pieces back together and do it all over again.” One of his fingers firmly stroked her clit, then plunged deep inside her. Dillon froze, willing her body not to climax, wanting to suspend the moment in time, yearning to feel this extreme pleasure forever. She took in great gulps of air, squeezing her eyes shut, her mind whirling dizzily at the center of this sexual inferno. As Aidan’s hands matched tempo, his fingers plucking and squeezing her nipples as three of his other fingers fucked her and his thumb circled her clit, the lava of Dillon’s core began to bubble, the whole-body tingle heralding an orgasm of epic proportions. Dillon wrenched out of his embrace. “Computer. Table!” she barked hoarsely. Instantly, a solid wooden table appeared before her, and Dillon turned her back to it. Pushing her arms free of her uniform and feeling the fabric pool around her ankles, she reached for Aidan and pulled him closer. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she dragged his head down, his mouth to hers, and kissed him with an intensity that shocked her. Plunging her tongue between his lips, fucking his mouth with her own, she sent one hand in search of his own uniform’s zipper and yanked it down, slowing only to uncover his cock. She pushed the fabric off his shoulders, shoving it off him. “Now, Aidan. Now.” As she backed up, the table hit her in the butt and she hoisted herself onto its surface. Grasping her shoulders, Aidan lowered her onto the surface, fitting his hips between hers, his eyes greedily devouring her bare flesh. Hands squeezing her breasts together, he suckled first one swollen nipple and then the other, rocking his hips to slide his cock up and down over her wet pussy. “It’s too bad there aren’t two of you,” Dillon groaned, feeling so incredibly wanton and wicked, “because I’ve always fantasized about being fucked by two men.” “Mmm, Dillon, I like the idea—” Aidan licked one nipple, then the other, “but right now, I want you all to myself. We’ll see what happens later, all right?” To punctuate his point, the tip of Aidan’s cock nudged Dillon’s pussy, and she arched her hips off the table. 112
Virtuosity
“Oh, don’t tease me!” Dillon whimpered. Lifting one of her legs up and hooking her knee over his shoulder, Aidan grasped her hips in his hands and began the torturous, exquisite process of thoroughly fucking her. Entering her only a few inches at a time and then withdrawing over and over again, steadily, slowly gaining ground, Aidan’s cock filled her to capacity until he was sheathed deep in her, connecting with her very core. Restless, tormented, Dillon grabbed her own breasts, pinching her nipples, tugging on them, a vein of pleasure shooting down to her clit. Clenching her muscles, she squeezed Aidan’s cock, raising her hips to allow him to fully impale her. “Fuck me now, Aidan. Now! Make me come!” The rock-hard and very real hologram complied, thrusting into her and withdrawing almost fully, in order to repeat the action again and again. Biting her lip, Dillon felt as though she were beginning to float, rising higher and lighter, a kaleidoscope of color brightening to a blinding platinum flash that exploded as she came, her entire body shaking with completion. At that moment, Aidan gave one final, hard thrust, arching his own head back with a rough growl, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside her, prolonging her own pleasure until he collapsed atop her, his head on her shoulder. For a long moment, the room was silent. Dillon gathered enough strength to command the HoloSuite to change the table into a sleeping platform, which was infinitely more comfortable. As they lay there, content in each other’s soft breathing, Aidan raised his head and looked at her. He lifted his thumb to her cheek to wipe away the tears she hadn’t realized she’d wept. “Are you all right?” His voice was velvet, enveloping her in warmth. Dillon nodded and her heart quietly tightened. “Yes, Aidan. I think I’m more than all right.” In the close silence that followed, Aidan held her in his arms. Surrounded and protected by his strength, Dillon slept.
113
Kris Starr
Chapter Three Dillon stood outside the HoloSuite, anticipation and excitement alternately sending butterflies throughout her insides. Dammit, she was horny, and tonight was the night to try out the automobile program. She was ready for it with Aidan. Because of her fascination with the early twenty-first century, Dillon had multiple HS programs created that involved that time period. She’d been saving this one to try with Roger, who was as fascinated with the period as she was, but they never had a chance to give it a try. Dillon briskly swept the distressing thought away. It didn’t make any difference now. She wanted to try it, dammit, and if she had to try it with Aidan rather than Roger, well, so be it. A tingle in her clit belied the thought. Hell, she wanted to try this with Aidan. Everything inside of her trembled for the opportunity. “Computer, this is Commander Dillon Walker,” she said, a quiver in her voice. Excitement. That was it. “Acknowledged,” the soothing voice replied. “Computer, begin both Aidan 101 and Auto1A1. Authorization epsilon-delta, seven-three-six.” Soft whirs and clicks. “Acknowledged. You may enter when ready, Commander.” Taking a deep breath, Dillon stepped in front of the heavy doors and exhaled as they slid open. Squinting in the sudden bright sunlight, she stepped over the threshold, landing on the shimmering blacktop of an old Earth highway. Grain fields stretched unbroken in every direction, as far as Dillon’s eye could see. Waves of gold undulated in the breeze as if alive. It was mesmerizing. Glancing upward, Dillon was briefly mesmerized by a sky that was an unreal brilliant blue, striking in its clarity and color. The sun, a generous golden sphere. A cloud or two drifted dreamily along, adding to the impeccable creation that this program was. To her left and right, a laser beam-straight road sent up shimmers of heat reflected from the sky, the horizon in either direction melting into a mirage of endlessness. “Perfect.” Dillon said, a slow smile curving her lips. Taking a deep breath, her senses were assaulted once again—the dry, crisp smell of the grain, the hot, charred smell of the asphalt beneath her feet, and the warm, green smell of the breeze, carrying hints of distant climes and faraway places. Dillon closed her eyes, reveling in the heat that surrounded her, caressing and enveloping; a sense of ripeness, a need to surrender to this living, breathing environment. 114
Virtuosity
After a brief moment of indulgence, Dillon opened her eyes again, focusing on the two points of interest ahead of her—points that she’d initially ignored, knowing that she’d wanted to appreciate the backdrop before succumbing to the ultimate pleasure awaiting her. The first item awaiting her scrutiny was an automobile. But not just any automobile—a 2004 Porsche Carrera GT, in Pure Black, with darkly tinted windows. Dillon had stumbled upon this mode of transportation during one session of studying Earth history, and the automobile—or car, as they were commonly called, she corrected herself—had struck a nerve with her. Sleek, sexy and powerful, Dillon wanted nothing more than to get behind the wheel of this mechanical animal and give in to the power caged under its hood. Instinctively, she knew that there would be no greater pleasure than driving this car. Well, with one exception. And that exception stood next to the vehicle, looking just as sleek, sexy and powerful. A flood of saliva pooled in Dillon’s mouth at the sight of Aidan, and she quickly swallowed it. The computer program had dressed him in appropriate twenty-first century attire, and holy hell, the sight of him actually made her weak in the knees. Tight, faded denim hugged every muscle and curve in his legs and hips, cupping him like a second skin. A tight, white t-shirt did the same for his upper body, outlining firm pecs and the sexily nicknamed six-pack of abdominal muscles. Black cowboy boots and a pair of dark sunglasses completed the outfit. Dillon gulped audibly, unable to remove her gaze from Aidan’s ultra-sexy form. Apparently noting her shock, he grinned. “So this is the car fantasy, huh? I like it. She’s going to be a sweet ride.” His voice dropped. “And so’s the car.” Dillon shuddered with pleasure and managed to find her voice. She returned his slow grin. “So, are you ready for that ride now?” “Whenever you are.” Aidan pushed the sunglasses up on his head and raked his gaze over Dillon’s body with a hungry possessiveness. Jerking her gaze away from his, Dillon finally glanced down at herself, having long forgotten what she’d programmed for herself to wear. A low chuckle passed through her lips. There was no problem with this outfit. A light cotton sundress in a red-andwhite floral print caressed her curves, the hem ending just a few inches below her hips. A glance at her shoulders showed tiny spaghetti straps, and a further glance revealed a suitable amount of cleavage. Perfect high-heeled, sex-kitten-style sandals completed her outfit, and Dillon finally succumbed to her urge to laugh, letting out a deep, throaty chuckle of pleasure. Hot damn, this was going to be a good ride. As Dillon walked across the blacktop to the car, Aidan opened the driver’s side door for her, standing partially in the opening. Pressing against him slightly, Dillon paused, the two of them aware of nothing else but the heat created by each other, the magnetic connection sending invisible sparks heavenward. Aidan’s hand landed low on
115
Kris Starr
her hip, its weight and heat radiating through the thin fabric. His breaths were labored, as though he was maintaining a great deal of control, and sensing the sheer level of tension coiled inside of him caused Dillon’s heart to skip a beat. For what seemed an eternity, they stood there, gazes locked, breaths mingled. Dillon ached to press her mouth to his, to taste the salty sheen of perspiration on his skin. But she knew that should she do that, she wouldn’t be able to stop until she devoured every inch of him. And right now, she wanted to drive. Devouring could come later. Brushing her lips almost imperceptibly over his, Dillon tossed off a quick smile and climbed around him, into the car. With an almost orgasmic sigh of pleasure, Dillon settled into the supple leather seat, her body cradled by the soft-as-skin material. It felt as though thousands of mouths were pressed to her, kissing, stroking. Dillon chuckled. All this, and she hadn’t even started the engine yet. The passenger door opened and Aidan settled himself into his seat, looking entirely natural and not even remotely out of place in the decadent environment. In fact, his presence made the car an even more wicked, intimate environment. “So, where are we going, Dillon?” She grasped the key, turned the ignition. A low, rumbling growl enveloped the car, the vibrations traveling through the seat, into her ass. Dillon giggled wickedly at the sensation. Putting the manual transmission into first gear, she turned to face Aidan and grinned. “Anywhere.” Pushing the speedometer upwards of one-hundred-fifty miles per hour, Dillon reveled in the rush of heady power the car gave her. The highway stretched out, long and lonely ahead of them, and Dillon glanced over at Aidan only to find his smoldering gaze fixed on her. Heat flushed her cheeks at his intense scrutiny and she glanced back at the road ahead, suddenly struck with shyness. The heat of Aidan’s fingertips suddenly appeared on her thigh, small, gentle circles growing slowly larger and larger. “What did you plan to happen in this program, Dillon?” Aidan’s voice was low, husky. Dillon inhaled sharply at his touch on her skin, need momentarily stealing her voice. “Tell me, Aidan. Does this speed do anything to you? The vibrations of the engine, the sheer power beneath you?” She felt, rather than saw, him nod his head. “I always thought the thrill of driving a machine like this would be so incredibly sensual, so sexual that nothing could top it, save sex itself.”
116
Virtuosity
Aidan’s slow finger circles were growing larger, pushing the fabric of her dress farther up her thigh. Finally they hovered, just barely touching her pussy, avoiding her clit. “I can understand exactly what you mean, Dillon. But I would take it one step further. What would it be like to experience the sensual thrill of driving and also get fucked at the same time?” With the final words, Aidan pressed his fingers to Dillon’s aching clit and she arched her back, gasping with the pleasure. Her voice breathy and barely functioning, Dillon murmured, “I can’t imagine anything better.” Shifting in his seat, Aidan leaned over the center console to suck on Dillon’s breast through her dress. Between pulls at her hardened nipple he muttered, “Neither can I, baby. Neither can I.” Dillon whimpered, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. Aidan’s mouth was fiery and damp, burning her skin through the thin cotton. The combination of Aidan’s mouth on one breast, his hand teasing her other breast and the car’s vibration rising through the seat nearly had Dillon coming right then. She let out a gasp when his mouth left her, the blast of air conditioning replacing the fire of his mouth, tensing her nipple to a rock-like peak which his talented fingers came back to tease. His mouth settled on her neglected breast, sucking, nibbling and pulling, causing a trickle of wetness to dampen the leather beneath her. “Oh, Aidan. Make me come. I need to come.” The words squeaked out of Dillon on breathless puffs of air. “Your wish is my command, Dillon.” Aidan shifted again, placing a gentle kiss atop the fabric between her breasts. He began to kiss a slow path downward, a hand coming back up to flick at her nipples. With one final push, Aidan nudged Dillon’s dress fully up around her waist, exposing her completely to the icy air of the car. Trembling with anticipation, Dillon let out a shriek as Aidan’s mouth settled on top of her clit. The sudden change of cold air to burning mouth sent another wave of wetness out of her, and Dillon spread her knees as far as was possible in the confined space. With tightly controlled movements, Aidan’s tongue flicked lightly over her clit, his mouth creating suction over her whole pussy. Nibbling lightly on her, he pulled her deeper into his mouth, the combination of suction and friction nearly unbearable for her. Dillon threw her head back against the headrest, growling deep in her throat. Her knuckles were white with her vise-grip on the wheel. “Now, Aidan. Now! Fuck me!” Dillon’s words were nearly unintelligible, but their urgency was not. Aidan squeezed Dillon’s nipple between his fingers and tugged, while his tongue pressed one more hard stroke over her swollen clit.
117
Kris Starr
For the briefest of moments, time stood still. Dillon hovered on the precipice of orgasm, her body wound tighter than a spring and then suddenly the pleasure staked through her, her body shuddering and trembling to the tips of her extremities. The unmistakable sound of an emergency siren permeated Dillon’s post-come haze. Glancing in the rear-view mirror she recognized a law-enforcement officer’s vehicle behind her, and she let out a slow chuckle. “Well. I’d forgotten about including that. Aidan—” She glanced at the passenger seat, finding it suddenly empty. A programming memory flashed through her mind, curving her mouth into a sensual smile. Slowing the vehicle down, Dillon pulled over onto the shoulder, put the car in neutral and turned off the engine. The officer’s car followed suit, pulling up behind her. In her side mirror, Dillon watched the officer—cop, she remembered—exit his vehicle. Trailing her gaze up and then back down his familiar form, Dillon squirmed in her seat. He wore the typical navy blue uniform of law-enforcement officials of the chosen time period, but she was willing to bet that Earth cops had never filled out a pair of slacks the way this cop did. The short-sleeved shirt was also seemingly too small, straining slightly over broad shoulders and firmly muscled arms. Mirrored sunglasses and the requisite hat added the final touch. Dillon laughed softly again. Damn, this was good. Her thighs were still wet from Aidan’s mouth, and amazed, Dillon felt a new rush of heat travel out of her core. She’d just come so hard she was sure the entire ship had shaken, yet here she was, ready and raring to go again. At this point, she actually had no idea what was going to happen next. She’d programmed the computer to choose any number of random scenarios, but even that didn’t preclude Aidan’s adjustment of that program, overriding it with his own primary directive of pleasure fulfillment. Dillon couldn’t even begin to fathom what he’d do. A rap on the window startled Dillon from her momentary reverie. Rolling down the glass, she smiled her sexiest smile. “Is there a problem, officer?” “Yes, ma’am. Were you aware that this stretch of highway is a seventy-mile-anhour zone? You were tracked doing one-hundred-forty.” “Is that so, officer? I wasn’t aware.” Dillon’s gaze slipped to the officer’s full, generous, familiar lips, anxious to finish roleplaying, but enjoying the acting at the same time. The officer fell silent, and Dillon could feel the heat of his gaze traveling up and down her frame. Dillon’s dress was still bunched up around her waist, the leather beneath her glossy with wetness. She could sense, rather than actually observe, the officer’s gaze on her pussy, and she laughed throatily.
118
Virtuosity
“And why is it that you weren’t aware, ma’am?” The officer’s voice was rough, aware. Dillon licked her lips slowly, suggestively, eyeing the growing bulge at the front of the man’s slacks. “I wasn’t aware, officer, because my lover’s tongue was on my clit at the time, and he was making me come. I was a little distracted.” A muscle twitched in the officer’s jaw, the barest of indications of his fracturing control. Slowly raising his arm, he slipped his sunglasses off. Aidan’s gaze was scorching, the need bubbling on the surface. Yet to his credit, he didn’t end the game early. “Is that so? He’s a lucky man to be fucking something so sweet as you. May I see your driver’s license, please?” Dillon smiled charmingly. “I’m sorry, officer. I don’t have one.” Aidan’s eyebrow arched slightly. “Driving without a license and speeding? These are serious offences, young lady.” He paused for the briefest of moments, a flash of a wicked smile flickering across his lips. “Please exit your vehicle, ma’am.” He stepped back to allow Dillon to open the door and step out. The non-airconditioned air clung to her skin, instantly glossing her skin with moisture, sticking the fabric of her dress to her body. Aidan’s gaze fell to her breasts, where her nipples were clearly outlined by the soaked material, and another trickle of moisture teased her clit. Tucking his sunglasses into his shirt pocket, Aidan gestured toward the car with the tilt of his head. “Please turn around, ma’am, and place your hands on the roof of the car.” Even while doing so, Dillon began to protest. “What for, officer? What’s the problem?” The roof of the car singed the palms of her hands as her skin made contact. Hands appeared at her waist, very lightly stroking her sides. A voice rumbled huskily in one ear. “The problem is, honey, that you deserve to be fucked the proper way, and I can’t do it when you’re driving the car.” The hands slid agonizingly slowly down over Dillon’s hips, stopping only at the hem of her skimpy dress. “The problem is you taste so good, I want more. I want to lick you until you come, over and over.” Slipping under the fabric, the hands singed the skin of her thighs, just as the metal had stung her palms. Dillon shuddered. “The problem is, you’ve broken the law, and you need to be punished.” Sliding upward, the fingers dragged Dillon’s dress with them, pushing it up over her hips, baring her ass. Fabric bunched into one hand, the other disappeared momentarily until the unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding open revealed the other hand’s destination. A knee slid between Dillon’s legs, nudging them apart. “Spread your legs, ma’am.” 119
Kris Starr
With a slow smile on her face, Dillon obliged.
120
Virtuosity
Chapter Four Aidan’s aroused cock slipped out of Dillon’s mouth with a popping sound. Running her tongue along its incredible length, Dillon reveled in his salty, masculine taste. A disembodied-sounding voice from the head of the bed floated down to her. “Oh, Dillon, that feels so good. Don’t stop, baby.” Strong fingers curled into her hair, and Dillon again swallowed him as deep as she could. The resulting groan reassured her that she’d hit the right spot. Sliding her lips up and down his shaft, she swirled her tongue around his cock’s swollen head, ravenously licking away each drop of pre-come. The tensing of Aidan’s muscles gave her a clue as to his physical state, but Dillon suddenly found her body lifted into the air by a pair of strong hands, swiveled around, and promptly deposited atop Aidan’s long, lean frame, facing the opposite direction. Dillon’s muffled shriek of surprise turned into a moan of pleasure as Aidan’s tongue found her clit and gave it a long, hard lick. She shuddered with absolute delight. To return the favor, Dillon increased her tempo, as well as her suction, and pulled a hand in to stroke Aidan’s balls. Aidan groaned again and licked faster, alternating between stroking her clit and plunging deep into her pussy. Dillon groaned. Not much more of this and she’d be flying apart again— The beep of an incoming communication interrupted them, and Dillon scrambled up from the bed. “Computer, end program.” There was a whirr and click as the room, and Aidan, vanished. Dillon glanced quickly at herself—she was once again dressed in her crew uniform, and a quick touch revealed that her hair was neatly back in its standard bun. Dillon turned to the viewscreen on the bare HoloSuite wall. “Walker, here.” Captain Egiet’s face appeared. “Dillon, I apologize for interrupting your off-duty time, but I needed to reach you.” Dillon smiled, hoping her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. “No need to apologize, Captain. Is there a problem?” Egiet quickly shook his head. “No, no, not at all. It’s good news, in fact. The Inquiry board has sent a representative here to the ship to offer the Fleet’s apologies in person.
121
Kris Starr
I’d like you to come by the bridge to meet Commander Finn Hamilton as soon as possible.” Dillon nodded. “I would be happy to, Captain. I’ll be there shortly.” The captain’s image vanished, and Dillon turned to face the empty room with a sigh. “Computer, continue Aidan101.” Aidan reappeared, now clad in sleepwear from the waist down, looking otherwise adorably tousled. Dillon licked her lips at the sight of him. “I need to go for now, I’m afraid. We’ll have to pick up where we left off later.” Dillon stepped into Aidan’s embrace and closed her eyes. She’d never felt at home like this before. A thought that had nagged at her for some time flickered through her mind again, and she tensed slightly. Dillon’s change of mood didn’t escape Aidan’s notice, as usual. “What is it, Dillon?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Dillon hesitated, torn between feeling awkward and simply wanting to be truthful. “I wish you were real, Aidan. I wish you could walk out of the HoloSuite with me. You mean more to me now than you could ever know, and it’s becoming difficult to leave you.” Aidan was silent for a moment. “I would walk out the door with you if I could, Dillon.” Dillon pressed a kiss to his bare chest. “I know. I’m just feeling sentimental, I guess. But I do need to leave. I’m to meet someone named Commander Hamilton on the bridge.” “Is that so?” Aidan’s voice held a note of humor in it, and Dillon leaned back in order to look him in the eye. “Yes, it is.” Dillon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s so funny?” Aidan placed a gentle kiss on Dillon’s lips and lingered there for a long moment. “Nothing, Dillon. Although you should know something about how I was created.” “And that is?” “When a crew member requests the creation of a HoloSuite being, the computer searches personnel files of all Fleet staff to see if there’s a close match anywhere. It’s a shortcut, really. At the same time, the computer cross-references the personnel files of the match as well as the crew member placing the request, just to make sure there isn’t already a conflict or cross-contact with the two Fleet crew. Is this making any sense?” Dillon gawked at Aidan. “You’re telling me you’re based on someone real?” Aidan nodded, shooing her out of the HoloSuite doors. “I am.” He grinned smugly. “I hope you bring Commander Hamilton to the HoloSuite when you give him his tour of the ship.” The doors whooshed shut, leaving Dillon alone in the corridor, feeling somewhat confused.
122
Virtuosity
After a quick trip to her quarters to freshen up, Dillon made her way to the bridge. As the doors slid open, she spotted Captain Egiet at the center of the deck. Crossing toward him, her gaze fell on the officer with his back to her. He was strangely familiar, and the hair at the back of Dillon’s neck stood on end. What the hell? At that moment, Egiet spotted her. “Ah, Commander Walker. I’m very pleased to introduce to you Commander Hamilton of Fleet headquarters.” Dillon had never experienced a strange flux in the space-time continuum like she did at that very moment. When Commander Hamilton turned to face her, Dillon very nearly forgot how to breathe. Aidan. In the flesh. Quickly recovering her composure, Dillon smiled and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Commander.” Finn Hamilton’s gaze was slow and assessing, and he took her hand with a sexy smile of his own. “The pleasure is all mine, Commander.” The skin-to-skin contact was electric, but somehow, Dillon was unsurprised by that fact. A shiver ran through her, ending at her clit with a shock. And if the look in Hamilton’s eyes was anything to go by, he was precisely aware of the instant attraction, too. Dillon suddenly realized that the captain was speaking to her. “And I told Commander Hamilton that you would be more than happy to show him around the ship, Dillon.” Dillon smiled even more widely. “I would be more than happy to, Captain. I’d especially like to show you our HoloSuites, Commander. There’s someone I would definitely love for you to meet…”
123
About the Author Kris is a single mom living in the wilds of northern Canada. She spends her time doing various forms of freelance writing and editing, and chasing after a rambunctious toddler daughter. Kris has been writing since she was approximately ten years old, her first major project being a Nancy Drew-style mystery featuring herself and two of her friends. Her future leanings became clear, however, when she began penning naughty stories for high school friends—usually featuring Scott Baio, Rick Springfield or a member of Duran Duran. Kris welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
SHADOWS STIR N.J. Walters
N.J. Walters
Prologue He sat in his massive chair at the head of the table. A dark figure with his hands wrapped around the chair’s intricately carved arms, he looked out over the large stonecarved room and into the gloom. There were few of them now, his Shadow Ryders. Like him, they had been slipping further and further into the shadows that beckoned to them, promising comfort and respite, but in truth offering a sort of suspended animation, a waking dream in which nothing mattered. Nothing had mattered in quite a long, long time. But that was about to change. It had to if he and his men were to survive. How long had he lived in this castle of shadows? Civilizations had risen and fallen, thousands of years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. Even his name was lost in time. He was the Shadow Lord, immortal and powerful. A leader of men who, like himself, had been powerful warriors in their own times. Men of unequalled skill, determination and conviction. He had gathered his men to him over the long years. One at a time, he had gone to them as they lay dying and offered them a chance to right the wrong done to them. He did not offer vengeance, but justice. Many times he had met Death as that dark figure had come to claim them, but always with the chosen few, Death had stepped back and allowed him to make his offer. If the fallen warrior declined, then Death took them on their way to the other side. If they accepted, they became warriors of the shadow realm. Soldiers of justice. At least that is what they had been. Now the shadows that had been their salvation had become their curse. It had been several centuries since any of them had bestirred themselves from this realm to even be concerned about what was going on in the world from which they had all sprung. Once, they had trained daily, keeping their skills sharply honed so they were ready when needed to face down evil. Now the greatest evil they faced was their own apathy. They could not die unless beheaded or exposed to complete daylight without shadow. But they could drift into this sea of never-ending gloom for eternity. And while he no longer cared about himself, he did care about the men who had sworn allegiance to him. His eyes pierced the darkness, seeing everything it sought to hide. Men lounged on benches and stared into nothingness. Seldom did they eat, drink or laugh anymore. At one time, laughter had rung freely though the hall. Now if he listened, he could almost hear its mocking strains still echoing. It shocked him to realize how many were missing, lost in the cloak of darkness. He did not know if they could be reclaimed, but he would not rest until he had fought for each and every one of them. The time had come.
126
Shadows Stir
For his powers had given him far-reaching vision and what he had seen had shaken him out of his apathy. If things did not change from the course they were on, soon they would all be lost. Forever. But there was always hope. And it was this one thought that stirred him from his rest. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair, gouging the wood as he pushed himself up. Slowly, he stood to his great, imposing height. “Warriors!” His voice rang out, reaching thought the shadows, pulling his men toward him. He could hear them stirring, answering the call, fighting the darkness within them. For a moment, he closed his eyes, grief-stricken at what he had allowed to befall them all. But when he opened them again, all sign of grief and doubt were gone, replaced by a steely look of determination. Eyes, dark and black, that saw right though every man and straight to his very soul. Only a dozen had answered. So be it. There were dozens more out there and he would search them out and haul them back, kicking and screaming if necessary. But for now, he would start with these men in front of him. His deep, fathomless eyes skimmed over them one at a time. No detail was too small or insignificant for him. One never knew where the key to salvation might lie. All tall, all strong, all warriors. From different periods of time, from different cultures and countries, they had formed a brotherhood all their own. Bound by their word and their bond to one another, they stood shoulder to shoulder, their faces impassive as they waited for him to speak, to command them. “There is a woman.” Those four small words created a stir among them. He could sense their interest growing. None of them had had a woman in centuries. Lust and need would grow among them as the craving for a woman became sharper. Indeed, he was counting on it. “She must be protected at all costs.” He paused, pleased when they all moved closer to him. A tiny candle sprang to life in the center of the table. Its light barely cut through the smothering darkness, but it was a start. If more were to be lit, it had to come from within them. Only with their hearts and spirits could they drive back the allencompassing shadows. “Why?” The voice startled him. It had been a long, long time since any of them had spoken. One warrior detached himself from the group and stepped forward, crossing his arms over his massive chest as he stood with his legs braced apart. The Shadow Lord almost smiled. He’d known that Gideon would respond to the challenge. “She will bear a child who will be the salvation of mankind.” He stepped toward Gideon and was pleased when his warrior stood his ground. “And now she has flung herself heedlessly into danger.” As he sauntered closer to Gideon, the other men moved back slightly. “It is your job to protect her.” Gideon nodded immediately, his hand going to his heart. It was both a pledge and a salute. The Shadow Lord gave silent thanks to the loyalty that still bound his men to him. It was one of the few things that could save them. He reached his hand out to
127
N.J. Walters
Gideon, wrapping his hand around the warrior’s forearm. His arm was immediately clasped in return. Drawing Gideon toward the head of the table, he motioned to the others to follow. “There is much you need to know…”
128
Shadows Stir
Chapter One “Come on, you sneaky bastard. Where are you?” Jo Harris squinted into the darkness, trying to see into the surrounding shadows. She knew it wasn’t smart to meet her informant in the middle of the night in a deserted alley, but she was desperate. The unknown man had promised her information about her missing sister and for that she’d walk through the fires of hell. So a dark alley was nothing in comparison. Besides, she was a cop. Well, technically she was a cop. Just because she was temporarily on medical leave didn’t mean anything. The bullet wound in her thigh was healed and she’d been cleared to go back to work next week. The familiar weight of her weapon nestled in her shoulder holster reassured her. She had a knife tucked into her boot as well. Her senses were keen and her body, while not quite at its physical peak, was a formidable weapon. She was ready for anything. The slightest sound of a foot scraping along the dirt put her on alert. Her breathing slowed and she listened as she froze in the shadow of the building, blending with it. Just when she thought she might have imagined it, she heard it again. Closer this time. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and prepared to move quickly. “I know you’re there.” She was moving even as she finished speaking the last word. Silently, like a wraith, she changed her location, so he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint her position. “Did you bring the money?” The voice was off to her left about fifteen feet in front of her. Taking a chance, she stepped into the middle of the alley where the faint light of the street lamp reached. She drew herself up, taking advantage of every inch of her fivefoot-eleven frame. With her low-heeled boots, it made her an even six feet. Her shoulders were broad, her legs long, her short hair as black as the night. But it was her cold gray eyes that intimidated men. At least that’s what her fellow officers had always told her. Most meant it as friendly teasing, but some followed it up with a few other words, like bitch or ballbuster. Usually when she was smacking down their crude sexual advances. Right now the only man who interested her was slinking out of the darkness and her interest certainly wasn’t sexual in nature. Shaking like a junkie too long without a fix, he sidled closer to her. His hair was cropped off short to his skull and his face looked like it had been beaten one too many times. Her entire body was on high alert, ready for anything. “I’ve got the money if the information is worth buying.” She wanted this over and done with.
129
N.J. Walters
“You said you’d pay for information about the girl in the picture you were flashing around.” His high-pitched whine made her head hurt. She held her ground, not speaking. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Sure enough, he started to fidget, tugging on the front of his ragged coat. His gaze flickered away from her face and he started to put a hand in his pocket. “Leave them where I can see them.” The authority in her tone stopped him cold. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t mean nothing.” She’d had enough. “Stop wasting my time.” It was a gamble, but she turned as if to walk away. “Wait. I heard that the woman you’re looking for was seen down at Whitey’s Bar.” Now that he’d started speaking, what little he knew tumbled out of him at once. “She was asking questions and making guys nervous.” He stepped toward her. “Do I get my money now?” “What questions was she asking?” “I don’t know.” When she turned away again, he grabbed her arm. Whirling around, she slammed him up against the wall. “Think harder.” Her face was right next to his, her voice a whisper. His breath stank of onions and she held her own breath as she waited. “Okay. Okay. She was asking about Dirk Becker. And that’s just not smart.” “Who is he?” She pushed his face harder into the wall when he tried to squirm out of the way. “Dirk’s the man, you know. You want it, he’s got the connections. I told you all I know.” She sensed he was telling her the truth and eased up her grip. “I want my money.” “Yeah sure.” Stepping back, she reached into her pocket and hauled out a crumpled fifty dollar bill and tossed it to him. Her mind was whirling. Why was her sister asking about a man like that? Her inattention gave him the opening he was looking for. Her senses kicked in before she even fully registered the threat. He had a gun drawn and pointed straight at her. Well damn. Now she’d have to go to the trouble of disarming the asshole. Her body began to move even as her mind was sorting through her options. A gigantic shadow fell in front of her and her informant disappeared from her view. “What the hell?” The shadow whirled back toward her as she spoke and she drew her gun and aimed. “Stand back, I’m armed.” Without warning, he was right in front of her. She took an involuntary step backward, stumbling slightly, but never losing her grip on her weapon. Holy shit, he was big. No, make that huge. The dim light shone straight at his face and torso and she froze. Every cell of her body went into overdrive. He was without a doubt the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on.
130
Shadows Stir
His hair looked black, but she couldn’t be sure if it was just the lack of light. But it was long, hanging down over his bare shoulders. He was wearing a plain black leather vest that was open, revealing the widest chest she’d ever seen, and with her years in the police force she’d seen plenty of buff-looking guys. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a tattoo of a large black bird right in the center of that magnificent chest. He stood as still as a statue, his eyes never leaving her face. Now it was her turn to be unnerved by his stillness and his silence. Even though she knew what he was doing, it was still very effective. Those eyes looked so deep and dark, she could almost swear she could see her reflection in them if she looked hard enough. And his face looked as if it was chiseled by the hands of the gods. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones high, his nose aquiline. But his lips, his lips made her want to taste them, lick them. She licked her own lips instead, fascinated as his eyes followed her tongue as she trailed it over her bottom lip. Oh lord, she wanted him. Her entire body was screaming at her to jump him. Her nipples were hard points against the soft cups of her bra and she could feel the cream flowing between her legs. The crotch of her jeans was wet and it took all her discipline not to squirm to try to alleviate the growing ache. This kind of thing just didn’t happen to her. Sure, she’d had sex before, but not often. Her size scared off most men and the few times she had been serious about a guy, it hadn’t lasted long and had always ended in disappointment on both sides. But this guy didn’t look like anyone would scare him off. He had to be at least six-foot-eight, maybe more. It was getting harder for her to breathe so she sucked in a deep breath and then forgot to let it out when his eyes went straight to her chest as if he could see her swollen breasts and pointed nipples through her top. She knew it was too dark for him to see her, but it still made her uncomfortable and incredibly aroused at the same time. She had to get a grip on herself. The sound of someone scrabbling in the dirt reminded her of her informant. How could she have forgotten? Moving quickly, she skirted around the unknown man, keeping him further than arm’s length and her gun trained on him. She was just in time to see the back end of her informant as he fled around a corner. “Damn it,” she swung back around. “You let him get away. I wasn’t finished with him yet.” “I was protecting you.” She almost melted into the ground as his deep voice washed over her. “Yeah, well, I didn’t need help.” Realizing how ungrateful that sounded, she shook off her disappointment. “Look, I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I didn’t need any help.” “He had a weapon pointed at you.” His logic just ticked her off.
131
N.J. Walters
“I could have disarmed him. I can take care of myself.” She turned and started walking back down the alley toward the light, sheathing her weapon as she went. Her mind was already planning her next move. There was no sound, no warning at all. One minute she was almost out of the alleyway, the next, her back was up against the wall, her hands trapped in his. He lowered his head until his forehead was all but touching hers. The scowl on his face left no doubt that he was angry with her. Leaning even closer, he whispered, “Can you now?”
132
Shadows Stir
Chapter Two The woman’s scent was driving him insane. Every instinct Gideon possessed was urging him to strip her bare and fuck her. She wanted him. Of that, there was absolutely no doubt. Her arousal teased his nostrils and he longed to bury his face between her thighs and breathe in her unique smell, taste her essence. The rise and fall of her breasts had fascinated him. He could see the tips of them clearly against the outline of the shirt that she wore. The darkness could hide nothing from his keen eyes. Yes, she wanted him. But he also sensed she wasn’t happy about it. He was infuriated at the easy way she’d placed herself in danger. It didn’t matter that he’d never set eyes on her before a few minutes ago. Deep in the pit of his gut, he knew that she belonged to him. There was something about her that awakened every male instinct that had lain dormant for more centuries than he cared to count. His cock had started swelling from the moment he’d emerged from the Shadow Realm and into this one. Now, it was as hard as steel. Pressing against the front of his leather pants, it was almost painful. But it was a pain he welcomed for it told him he was still alive and that was something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “Do not be afraid.” He whispered the words in her ear as he flicked out his tongue and tasted the delicate swirls. Her breathing quickened and he could feel the tiny puffs of air against his neck. Anchoring her hands in one of his, he raised them over her head. Ever so slowly, he brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead. Her gray eyes were smoky with desire and wonder as she stared up at him. Her lashes were long and black, and when she blinked they looked like the wings of a raven against her pale skin. Her cheekbones were high, her nose slightly tilted at the end, and her chin was more pointed than rounded, giving her the look of an inquisitive fox. Using his thumb, he traced every feature of her face, learning her, memorizing her. Her neck was long and slender and he could feel her swallow as his fingers brushed over it. He traced her slender collarbone before moving lower. Finally, he allowed his hands to cup her breast. The plump flesh fit perfectly in his hand and even through the soft fabric covering it, he could feel the hard nub of her nipple. He moved his thumb, rubbing it back and forth across the swollen bud. Her moan of pleasure was like music to his ears. And as he watched her, she licked her lips. They were rosy and plump and he had to taste them. Leaning forward, he lowered his lips toward hers. So close. It was instinct that saved him. Many centuries as a warrior had honed his reflexes to a sharp edge. As her knee shot upward toward his groin, he jerked to the side before
133
N.J. Walters
slamming his body over hers. Now his legs shackled hers to the wall. Anger surged through him, at her, at himself. Then he heard her whimper. “Did I hurt you?” He was too smart to relinquish his position. He would not make the mistake of underestimating his warrior queen again. And he realized that was how he thought of her. She would have been a queen in another age, in another time. Her bravery and fighting skill would have made her a much coveted prize among kings. She didn’t answer him and he began to worry. “Josephine, answer me.” Although it was physically impossible, she seemed to pull further away from him. “Nobody calls me Josephine. It’s Jo,” she responded automatically. “And how do you know my name?” Her gray eyes became flinty as they narrowed on him. “Who the hell are you?” Sighing, he realized that this wasn’t going to be easy. “My name is Gideon. And I am your protector.” Jo just stared at the man who held her captive. It was infuriating and frustrating to be restrained so easily. It made her want to scream and curse, but she did neither. Obviously, this man had training. He’d disarmed her informant quickly and quietly and now held her like it was no effort at all. He wasn’t even straining or breathing hard. But for some reason, she wasn’t afraid of him. Even when she’d tried to knee him in the balls he hadn’t retaliated. He’d simply blocked her move and held her tighter. But at no point had he ever hurt her. Gideon, he called himself. “Gideon what?” “Just Gideon,” he answered. The name echoed in her brain. And then it was if the world suddenly retreated. “Oh lord,” she whispered as the world in front of her disappeared and was replaced with a vision of her and Gideon making love, their bodies entwined in a heated embrace. This couldn’t be happening. The women in her family were either gifted or cursed, depending on your point of view, with the ability to recognize the love of their life within moments of meeting him. Jo had heard the family legends for years, but hadn’t quite wanted to believe them. Her family was legendary for quickie weddings and her mother had wed her father within days after meeting him. But it always happened before their thirtieth birthday. Jo had turned thirty almost six months ago and she was sure that she’d escaped fate. Part of her had been elated, but there was a part of her deep down that had been crushed. And now, here was this dark stranger in front of her and he was the love of her life. The irony of the situation threatened to choke her. The world came back into focus and she became aware of strong arms locked around her, rocking her from side to side as a comforting voice crooned in her ear. For the first time in her life, she felt safe and protected and loved in a man’s arms. It was only the fear for her sister that made her push against his hold.
134
Shadows Stir
“Listen, I appreciate it, but I really don’t need a protector.” She tried to push away, but his arms were like velvet manacles, keeping her captive. His skin was hot against her cheek and the steady beat of his heart lulled her. Unconsciously, she rubbed her face against him, loving the feel of the muscled chest beneath her cheek. She felt something flutter against her face and could have sworn that it was the soft brush of feathers. Pulling back slightly, she stared at the tattoo in the center of his chest, but was barely able to make it out. It had to be her imagination. “From what I have witnessed, you need someone to keep an eye on you.” Her head jerked up at his words. “Well, that’s not your business. So let me go. I’ve got things to do. Important things.” “I will go with you and help you do whatever it is you must do.” She almost declined his offer, but the more she thought about it, the more she grew to like the idea. He was big and obviously had training of some sort. If he’d meant to hurt her, he already had plenty of opportunity to do so. He might be of some use to her. She raised her head to look at him and got lost in his dark, liquid gaze and when his head dipped toward her, she didn’t move. Instead, she stood up on her toes and met him partway. Soft but firm, his lips brushed hers. Not demanding, not taking, just offering them to her. Gripping his shoulders for support, she leaned closer to him, wanting to taste him. When his tongue swiped across her lower lip, she moaned. Deep in her body an ache began to grow once again. Really, it had never stopped, but had been increasing steadily since she first laid eyes on him. This was her man. Her mate. And she wanted him. Needed him like she’d never needed anything in her entire life. His tongue traced the opening between her lips and when she parted them, he thrust it inside, claiming her mouth. His huge hands cupped her cheeks as he angled her head so that he could deepen their kiss. She could feel his cock, hard and thick against her stomach and rubbed her body against it. Her own juices were flowing now, her panties wet with need. And when he tore his mouth from hers, she tugged on his hair to bring him back. But his hands were busy and he pulled her hands away from him and whipped her Tshirt over her head in one motion. Before she could even blink, her bra disappeared. Naked from the waist up, she could feel his eyes caress her skin just as she could feel the cool night breeze against it. Her nipples tightened and her pussy throbbed. “You are so beautiful.” His voice was hoarse and shaky, but his hands were sure as he cupped her breasts. The calloused pads of his hands shaped her breasts and his thumbs traced her nipples. “Yesss,” she hissed, pushing closer. His hair brushed against her skin as he lowered his head. She held her breath as his tongue flicked out to tease one of the swollen buds. Without warning, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. 135
N.J. Walters
She was already so close to coming. Her blood was pumping wildly though her body. Every part of her was screaming at her to take him. She wanted his large cock in her body, slamming into her pussy, giving her relief. Ignoring his vest, she reached down and struggled with the fastenings of his leather pants. They almost defeated her. Laced instead of buttoned or zipped, it took her a few minutes to get them undone. He didn’t even try to help her, but continued to suck and lick at her breasts. She couldn’t think straight as the pleasure coursed straight from her nipples to her sex and back again. When she finally got the laces open, she shoved the leather out of the way and his cock sprang free from its confinement. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Hard and hot, it all but leapt into her hands. Stroking her fingers over his cock, she learned his shape and texture. But now she wanted his hands on her pussy. As if he knew what she was thinking, he slid one of his hands to the front of her jeans. They were open in a flash. Cupping her waist with his hands, he slowly slid them inside her jeans. Stroking down over her hips, he shoved her jeans and underwear down as he went. He didn’t stop until they were around her knees. He shifted slightly away from her so that their bodies were no longer touching except where her hands wrapped around his cock. She refused to let go. Reaching out his hand, he laid it on her stomach. The heat was incredible and her hips arched forward. One slow inch at a time, his hand moved over her belly until his fingers sifted through her pubic hair and over her sex. She desperately tried to open her legs wider, but caught as she was in the jeans and underwear, she could only part them slightly. But it was enough. His fingers traced over the wet folds of her flesh and her stomach clenched as he grazed her swollen clitoris. Crying out, she jerked her hips, desperately wanting him to do it again. But he ignored it and traced the wet opening to her sex. Leisurely, he traced round and round until she thought she’d go mad. “Gideon,” she wailed, tightening her hand around his cock. She continued to pump it up and down his entire length. Using her other hand, she cupped his heavy testicles and gently squeezed. “I want to fuck you.” The rough need in his voice startled her and delighted her at the same time. No man had ever said those words to her in a way that made her feel powerful and womanly. “Then fuck me,” she taunted, rubbing her thumb over the swollen head of his cock. “Face the wall, brace yourself with your hands and stick your ass out so I can take you from behind. You can’t take off your boots and I can’t get inside you any other way.” One of his fingers dipped inside her. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. His crude words excited her as she realized he was right. With her jeans around her knees, the only way he could take her was from behind. She’d never had a man fuck her from behind. But she wanted him to do it. Giving his cock one final squeeze, she turned and placed her hands against the cold wall. The rough stone of the building dug into her palms, grounding her and dousing
136
Shadows Stir
her in reality. She was about to allow a man she’d just met to fuck her from behind in a dimly lit, dirty alleyway where anyone could come along and catch them. For a moment, common sense and fear rose up within her. What was she doing? His hand cupped her ass before dipping between her legs. This time he pushed two of his long fingers deep inside her. Her inner muscles clenched hard around them and Jo gasped as her entire body strained toward completion. All other thoughts disappeared. She had to have this man. Leaning forward, she pushed her ass back toward him and spread her legs as wide as the restricting clothing would allow. The cool air on her heated pussy aroused her even further. Her breasts swayed as they hung down, her nipples puckered so tight it was almost painful. She waited, suspended in agony. She was so close to coming. He withdrew his fingers from her body and she could feel him standing behind her, watching her. She almost cried with relief when his hands gripped her ass and spread the cheeks wide. The broad head of his penis pushed its way deep inside her pussy, stretching her. And then he stopped.
137
N.J. Walters
Chapter Three Gideon’s lungs were working like a bellows as he struggled to breathe. It had been so long and he wanted her so much. But he wanted her to be sure. Needed her to be sure. He almost came when she wiggled her hips, trying to take him deeper. “Are you sure, Jo?” He found it strange to call her by a name better suited for a man. She gave a snort of laughter. “It’s a little late for that.” He wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but he started to withdraw. It might kill him, but he’d finish the job by hand rather than take a woman who didn’t want him. She cried out, clamping her inner muscles down around him. “Don’t you dare stop, Gideon. Fuck me. Now.” He almost roared with relief. Instead, he drove himself into her waiting warmth as far as he could. She was tight and her body resisted the intrusion. But gradually she softened, taking him deep inside. He felt as if he’d finally come home. Swallowing back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, he cupped her breasts with his hands, determined to give her the greatest amount of pleasure that he possibly could. Both of them were so primed, neither of them would last long. Catching her nipples between his fingers, he pinched them lightly as he pulled his hips back and then thrust forward. He could feel the sweat rolling down his back even though the air was cool. He’d never wanted a woman this much before. She was different. She was his woman. And he was determined to keep her. Her soft, breathy cries were an aphrodisiac. Everything about her fired his blood, making it hotter. He pulled his hips back and drove into her again. Harder this time. She shoved her bottom back as he thrust, pushing his cock even deeper. He could feel her inner muscles tightening more and more with each thrust. He released one of her breasts and positioned his hand lower. Sifting his fingers through the silky black curls between her thighs, he found the swollen nub of her desire and began to stroke it. His hips were pumping faster now as he hammered into her welcoming heat. The slap of flesh against flesh was loud in the stillness of the night. She stiffened, arched back her head and cried out. Gideon didn’t stop or slow his pace. He could feel his testicles drawing up tight to his body. His last thrust brought her right off her feet. Her pussy clamped down on his cock as he emptied himself inside her. Gritting his teeth to keep from yelling, he rode the pleasure, trying to make it last, milking it to the very end. He slumped against her, still holding her close. She was totally limp in his arms and he held her tight, trying to keep them both from toppling to the ground. His breathing
138
Shadows Stir
slowed and the sounds of the night penetrated his foggy brain. He’d never done anything this undisciplined in his life. It didn’t matter that a part of him was constantly monitoring the surrounding area. He was responsible for Jo’s safety and well-being. And that certainly didn’t include getting fucked senseless in a back alley. Carefully he released her breast, which was still clamped tight in his hand. He slid his hand down until it covered her warm, smooth stomach. Next, he removed his hand from between her thighs. She moaned as his finger stroked her clit one final time. Her pussy spasmed around his cock and it was his turn to moan. Holding her steady, he pulled back until he was no longer inside her. Closing his eyes, he gave himself a moment to recover before bending down and grasping her jeans in his hands. Unable to resist, he licked a wet trail up the curve of her spine as he pulled her pants back up around her. She swayed as he eased her away from the wall and turned her to face him. Frowning, he looked at her palms, displeased that they were scratched and red. She deserved silk sheets and flowers, not stone and grime. He gently wiped the dirt from the center of each hand before placing a kiss there. All the while, she watched him silently. He was afraid she was already beginning to regret this. It didn’t matter. He’d make it up to her later. “You’re mine now.” He said the words knowing they would anger her. She was an independent woman who wouldn’t easily welcome any man’s possession. But he was not about to let her go, not after thousands of years of waiting. For she was his soul mate. He knew that as surely as he knew every dark corner of the night. “I know.” Her easy agreement surprised him and made him wary. She ignored him then, bending down and searching for the rest of her clothes. He set her aside and picked up her bra, fingering the soft lace before handing it to her. As she slipped it on and fastened it, he snagged her T-shirt off the ground, shook it out and held it out to her. While she was pulling it on, he fastened the front of his pants. Jo almost laughed as she watched Gideon lace up the front of his tight leather pants. The look on his face was priceless. He watched her warily as if he expected her to explode at any moment. Ordinarily, she would have. They’d just had sex without protection, for heaven’s sake. She’d never done that in her entire life. But because of the family gift, she knew he was her one true love. At this point, she didn’t know if they’d end up together, but she wanted any time she could get with him. She’d known that sex with him would be phenomenal and she’d been right. Actually, that was an understatement. There were no words to describe how perfect, how right and good it was. As much as she’d like to explore this attraction further, she knew it would have to wait. She didn’t regret what they’d just done, but she couldn’t waste any more time. She had a lead to finding her sister and that was more important than anything else.
139
N.J. Walters
“What worries you so?” He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped it up so she was looking straight at him. “It is too late for regrets.” It made her feel a little better to know that her big, strong warrior wasn’t quite as confident as he seemed. But still, she found herself offering him reassurance. “I don’t have any regrets.” He said nothing, but nodded his head and grunted. She almost smiled at him, he looked so pleased with himself. “But I’ve got to go.” The black scowl was back on his face. “I will go with you.” “Fine. Come with me. But I’ve got to find my sister.” Tears pricked the back of her eyelids as she contemplated that something might have happened to her sister. “Tell me.” And as simple as that, she found herself pouring out her troubles to him. “My sister Jac and I are very close. We talk every day and tell each other everything. You know?” He nodded, but said nothing. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “A couple days ago, I couldn’t reach her. I didn’t think anything of it at first. I just thought maybe she stayed out late on a date or something. But when I couldn’t get hold of her the next day, I went to her apartment. I’ve got a key to her place, so I let myself in. It was empty. Her purse was gone, a suitcase was missing and her car wasn’t in the parking lot. I called her workplace and they said she was on two weeks holidays. But I know she hadn’t planned any holiday.” Jo knew she was babbling, but couldn’t stop now that she’d started. “So I start looking for her, questioning her friends and the people living in the apartments around her. Her neighbor said Jac asked her to take her mail for a couple weeks. I also had a closer look around her apartment and found a couple of crumpled notes that led me to this part of town.” Jo laughed. “Jac and I are total opposites. She’s a real girly-girl. Not that she’s not tough, but she likes nice clothes and makeup and she wouldn’t be caught dead in this section of town. Not without a good reason.” Gideon nodded thoughtfully. “And that man you met tonight?” “He had information. Said she was asking questions at some bar called Whitey’s.” Jo sucked in a deep breath. “So that’s where I’m headed.” “No.” His voice was implacable. “That is where we are headed.” The relief was so great that she started to slump back against the wall, but before she could touch it, his arms were around her, pulling her close to his body. “Thank you,” she whispered. She didn’t need the help, she assured herself, but it was nice to have backup. “It is upsetting you, so we will deal with it.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he guided her out of the alley. “Then we will talk about us.” “It’s that simple?” She couldn’t believe that Gideon was for real. He was more like a knight errant out of some legend than the biker dude that he looked like. “Yes.” He led her unerringly toward her car, which sat by itself in the middle of a deserted lot. “Why is it that you and your sister have men’s names?”
140
Shadows Stir
The question caught her off guard and made her laugh. “It’s actually Josephine and Jacqueline, but nobody but our mother ever called us by those names. We’ve always been Jo and Jac. Truthfully, I think my dad wanted boys but got stuck with us.” That was a running joke in their family for it was well known how both girls had wrapped their father around their fingers from the day they were born. “He did not appreciate you?” Gideon’s anger surprised her and she hastened to reassure him. “No, he loves both of us. That’s just a family joke.” She patted his rock-hard chest and he grunted in satisfaction. The tattoo drew her eyes again. As she watched it, it seemed to move slightly. But that was impossible. “The raven is part of me. It shares its strength with me.” He flattened her hand against the body of the large bird that covered a substantial portion of his chest. “It’s great.” The tattoo was forgotten as she dug into her pocket for her keys. Unlocking the car door, she opened it and slid into the driver’s seat. “You’re not going to be one of those men who doesn’t like it when a woman drives, are you?” Her heart almost stopped when he smiled at her. Honestly, the man should come with a warning label, he was so hot. He leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on her lips before closing her door and sauntering around the front of the vehicle. She was still in a stupor when he tapped on the passenger side window. “I guess that’s a no, then,” she muttered to herself as she leaned over and flipped up the lock. Gideon climbed in beside her, leaned back against the leather seats and crossed his arms over his chest. “Whenever you’re ready.” Darn it, he’d made her forget her surroundings again. Shaking off the sensual haze that cloaked her, she started the car and drove out of the lot.
141
N.J. Walters
Chapter Four Whitey’s was like a million other seedy bars that sprang up in cities all over the world. The clientele were questionable, the drinks were straight up and bar fights were a daily occurrence. Gideon was glad that the Shadow Lord had taken the time to bring him up-to-date with the world that now existed. But even without that, he would have recognized such a place. They had existed in different forms since man had first settled in permanent towns and cities. He was glad that he was here with Jo. Even now, she strode boldly through the door and into the gloomy interior. He didn’t know whether to applaud her bravery or lock her away somewhere safe. Both, most likely, depending on the situation. He took in the entire room at a glance and knew that she did too. Placing his hand on her back, he gave her a slight nudge toward the bar. She hesitated for the barest of seconds before marching forward. Leaning on the bar, she caught the bartender’s attention. At first, it seemed as if he would ignore her, but then he noticed Gideon looming large behind her. “What do you want?” Not the friendliest greeting, but then they hadn’t expected one. “Two beers,” she ordered. The bartender looked at him and Gideon nodded. He could feel Jo bristling in front of him. If the barkeep wasn’t careful, he’d quickly find himself on the receiving end of Jo’s fury. If it wasn’t for the seriousness of the task in front of them, it might be fun to watch. Jo slid a twenty dollar bill across the bar when he placed the two bottles in front of them. When he reached for it, she slapped her hand over it and dropped a small picture next to it. “Have you seen her?” “No.” The denial was immediate. “Look at it,” Jo demanded, her hand still covering the money. Gideon could sense that they were starting to attract attention. A waitress caught his eye as she hurried behind the bartender. She glanced at them worriedly, but kept on going. The bartender was a tough-looking man of about forty. His head was shaved and his beard was thick. Several small gold hoops adorned each ear. He scowled, but glanced at the photo. “Like I said, I haven’t seen her.” Jo was quivering with anger beside him and he knew he had to distract her before she did something she might regret. There was still much they might learn here, but that wouldn’t happen if they got tossed out. Just then a slow country song started playing from the jukebox. “Dance with me.” Not giving her time to reply, he drew her into his arms and led her onto the tiny section of scarred wood floor that didn’t have tables on it. Gripping her ass in his hands, he
142
Shadows Stir
tugged her close. She was stiff at first, but as he swayed with her in his arms, she gradually relaxed. “What was that all about?” Her hands slid up his chest before wrapping around his neck. He sensed that she thought about squeezing, but thought better of it at the last second. It surprised him just how quickly he was coming to know her. Leaning down, he nuzzled her neck. Even through the stench of stale smoke, beer and body odor, he could smell her fresh womanly scent—a tangy lemony scent, tinged with the underlying musky flavor of pure woman. He took her earlobe between his teeth, nibbling on the tender flesh, and was pleased when she tilted her head ever so slightly to allow him better access. “I didn’t want you to get us thrown out of here. I think the waitress knows something.” She started to jerk away, but he was ready for her. Gripping her tight ass in his hands, he pulled her pelvis toward his, grinding his erection into her stomach. He could sense the other patrons watching them but quickly losing interest as they went back to whatever they’d been doing. That was good. They might actually learn something if people weren’t too wary of them. Gideon swayed with Jo in his arms. She suited him perfectly, her height making it easy for their bodies to fit together with ease. Her intelligence, bravery and loyalty shone through in everything she did. He’d worried at first that she might have a boyfriend or husband, but he knew with certainty that if she did, she never would have allowed herself to have sex with him. That made him wonder about the Shadow Lord’s pronouncement that she would bear a child that was important to mankind. His arms tightened around her. Just the thought of another man’s hands on her sent pure anger pulsing through his veins. He would have to find out more information, but he knew deep in his heart that he would never let her go. He would challenge the very demons of hell in order to keep her. He realized he was holding her too tightly when she squirmed in his embrace. Forcing himself to loosen his hold on her, he tried to relax. “Are you all right?” Her quiet concern was a balm to his soul, soothing his anger. The song ended then and he took her hand and led her to an empty table in the corner of the room. Jo watched Gideon closely. Something was bothering him, but she had no idea what it could be. One minute he’d been in an amorous mood on the dance floor, the next he’d been holding her so close she could hardly breathe. She wanted to prod him until he told her what was wrong, but this wasn’t the time or the place. A waitress hurried up to their table and plunked two bottles of beer down in front of them. She shot a nervous glance at the bar before dropping a piece of paper next to the bottle. Before Jo could speak, the woman had hurried on to another table. Grabbing the paper, Jo pulled it into her lap and carefully opened it. The sight of the familiar writing made her heart clench. 143
N.J. Walters
“What is it?” Looking up, she met Gideon’s questioning gaze. “It’s a note from Jac.” Taking a deep breath for courage, she squinted so she could read the words. It was dated only yesterday. “The water’s fine. I found three shells. I’m not swimming.” Jo closed her eyes as relief washed over her. “This means something to you?” Jo nodded. “We’ve written in code like this since we were kids. She’s fine. The three shells are three days and since this was written yesterday that means she’ll be at the beach where we used to play as kids in two days time. The part where she says she’s ‘not swimming’ means that she is in danger but she’s staying away from it.” She could tell that he didn’t understand, so explained further. “There was a bad undertow at the beach, so we were never allowed to go out swimming because it was dangerous.” “Now that we know where she’ll be, we can meet her and find out what the danger is. Once we have established that, we can eliminate the problem.” Pushing back his chair, he stood. “It’s time for us to leave.” Jo could feel herself creaming her jeans as he stared down at her with lust in his eyes. Now that she knew her sister was safe and she’d be meeting her in two days, she knew that she wanted to spend the next two days with Gideon. Preferably in bed. The quicker they got out of here the better. “No need to leave quite so quickly.” The new voice was filled with menace. Jo scolded herself for once again allowing her attention to wander before they were safely away. “We’re ready to leave.” She kept her voice even and firm. The man standing beside their table was a few inches over six feet tall with long blonde hair and piercing green eyes that looked almost feral. His face was long and marred by scars. Anger radiated from him. “I don’t think so. You’ve been asking questions about me. Too many questions. And I find myself asking why.” His tone was amiable enough, but Jo wasn’t fooled for a second. “Don’t bother trying to leave.” He jerked his head toward the door and Jo saw that two large men now stood in front of it, both of them brandishing shotguns. While they watched, one of them barred and locked the door. “Oh, by the way, my name is Dirk Becker.” Slowly, she came to her feet. “You’re misinformed, Mr. Becker. I really have no interest in you at all.” Her tone was dismissive, as if he was unworthy of her regard. “Now that’s not nice at all.” He stroked the short beard that covered his chin. “Mickey told me that you weren’t nice to him this evening.” He motioned to the bar and Jo could see her informant from earlier tonight skulking in the far corner. He must have slunk in since they got here. She definitely would have noticed him. “Enough.” Gideon’s quiet voice cut through the bar like a gunshot. “We are leaving now.” Reaching out, he snagged Jo’s hand and tugged her next to him. “I don’t think so,” Dirk smirked. “Why don’t you sit back down so we can all have a little chat?” 144
Shadows Stir
The two men by the door started forward and suddenly everything changed. The room seemed to get darker and the air got thicker. Men started to grumble and even Dirk looked around the room as if sensing danger. And then Jo could see no one. They simply disappeared, swallowed up in the darkness. Only Gideon’s hand wrapped around hers anchored her to where she stood. When he started to move all she could do was stumble along behind him. And when she tripped and started to fall, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her. They were climbing a set of stairs, but she could see nothing at all. “Stand here.” He lowered one of his arms so that her feet touched a ground that she couldn’t even see. When he let go of her hand she almost cried out and pleaded with him not to leave her. Biting her lip, she waited, her nervousness and fear growing with each passing second. The sound of a boot hitting a door split the quiet and then suddenly moonlight was shining through the darkness. Grabbing her hand again, he dragged her onto the rooftop. “We’ll be trapped up here.” Already she could hear footsteps on the stairwell. The gloom had cleared behind them. “Do you trust me?” Gideon tugged her to the edge of the roof. “Yes.” Her answer was instinctive and quick. She knew she trusted him with her life. He smiled at her then. The devil was enjoying this, she realized. Turning his back to her, he bent down, wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her piggyback style onto his back. She flung her arms around his neck for support. Men burst out of the doorway and she turned her head in time to see Dirk smirking at them. “You’ve got nowhere to go.” “Hang on tight and don’t let go.” Before she knew what Gideon meant to do, he plunged off the side of the building. Burying her face in his neck, she waited for the sickening splat as they hit the pavement below. She prayed they wouldn’t die. Their downward plunge stopped suddenly and they began to move forward. Jo almost lost her grip when she realized that Gideon was no longer carrying her. Grabbing at feathers for support, she blinked as she looked down. She was riding on the back of a huge, black raven exactly like the one tattooed on Gideon’s chest. “I’ve lost my mind. We fell and I’m in a coma or something,” she muttered to herself. “You are fine.” The voice filled her mind. “Will you come home with me? I have questions that need answers.” “Yeah. Sure. Fine.” The wind whipped through her hair and over her face as she flew through the air on the back of the giant raven. “I’m either dead, severely injured or just plain nuts, so I guess going home with you is fine. As long as I’m back in two days.” Gentle laughter filled her head. “You are fine and someone will meet your sister.” Before she could correct him on that fact, the shadows wrapped around them, enveloping them completely. Jo clung to Gideon as the darkness overtook them.
145
N.J. Walters
Chapter Five “Why did you bring her here?” The deep voice penetrated Jo’s consciousness. “Because I could not leave her in jeopardy and I needed answers from you.” She relaxed when she heard Gideon’s voice. Somehow she had known he would never abandon her. She pretended she was still sleeping. Maybe she’d get some answers. “You are wondering about the child?” She waited for him to continue, but instead, she felt a hand on her arm. “I know you are awake, Josephine Harris.” Opening her eyes, she glared at the giant man hovering beside her. This was one scary looking dude. Darkness seemed to cling to him. The corner of his mouth quirked up as if he had heard her thoughts and was amused by them. Gideon appeared on her other side and sat down on the padded bench that she was lying on. “How are you feeling?” His quiet concern melted her heart and she smiled at him as she sat up. “I’m fine, but I want to know what’s going on.” The dark man nodded. “I am the Shadow Lord and you are in the Shadow Realm.” Now Jo began to really think that she must be dead. She glanced around, but couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in any direction. Shadows seemed to blanket the room. The man just laughed and confirmed that he did indeed know her thoughts. “You are not dead.” “You mentioned something about a child?” Better to keep this interview rolling along. “You will have a child that is important to mankind, in that it is important to us.” She sensed Gideon’s surprise, but she squeezed his hand to keep him quiet. “Your child will bridge our world and yours, able to live freely in both with all the powers of both.” He paused before continuing. “You see, ours is a world of shadows and Gideon is one of my Shadow Ryders. He is immortal and can die only if beheaded or if caught in full sunlight in a place where there is no shadows. We visit your world, but must return to this realm.” He sent her a sad smile that pierced her heart. “But we were facing something even worse than death. Sheer apathy was drawing us deeper into the shadows until we had all but forgotten why we even existed. Even now, some of my men will be lost forever in the never-ending darkness of shadows, drifting aimlessly for eternity, feeling nothing, caring for nothing.” He ran a hand over his face and Jo thought he looked incredibly tired. “You are our only hope. The first light in the darkness. You and your child will give us hope. And from your one light more will grow and draw the men back from the darkness.” “But I’m not pregnant.”
146
Shadows Stir
He gave her an enigmatic look. “Are you not? You used no protection earlier this evening.” Gideon growled with menace, stalking toward his Lord. Jo jumped up, grabbed his arm and held on tight. “Wait.” Gideon stopped in his tracks. “I’m so sorry, little one. I knew you would bear a child, but did not know I was destined to be the father. I would not have tricked you that way.” “I know,” she reassured him. She turned back to the mysterious dark man. “So, you’re saying I’m pregnant.” He nodded. “So I’m going to be a single mother. I mean, if Gideon has to stay here…” Her head was reeling with the possibilities. “There is a chance for you to be together if you are willing to take it.” “What?” Gideon’s voice was hoarse and she sensed his growing agitation. “You are darkness, Gideon, but Jo is light. She can anchor you to her world so that you may live there. You will still die if exposed to full sunlight or are beheaded. And in joining with you, Jo will also be immortal but face the same limitations.” Jo shrank back against Gideon as the Shadow Lord seemed to grow even larger. “When you make love face to face, place your hands on each others hearts and concentrate only on the love you both feel for the other. You will feel the transfer of power, a melding of light and shadows. Or,” he paused and looked straight at her, his eyes seeming to penetrate her very soul. “You can refuse and Gideon will remain here and your memory of this will disappear. You will miscarry the baby without even knowing you were pregnant.” His words sent Jo to her knees. She felt Gideon crouch behind her and gather her into his arms. Pain racked her body. To lose her memory of Gideon was unthinkable. She wrapped her arms protectively over her stomach. To lose their child was unbearable. There was only one choice for her. Raising her head, she glared at the dark, shadowy figure in front of her. “Send us home,” she ordered him. Gideon nodded solemnly, and darkness began to envelop them. She thought she saw the Shadow Lord smile as he disappeared from sight. When the gloom parted, she was sitting in the center of her own bed with Gideon’s arms still locked around her. The light was on and everything looked familiar. Nothing had changed since she’d left home earlier this evening. Yet, everything had changed. “It wasn’t a dream.” “No.” Gideon spoke softly as he released her, rolled off the bed and came to stand in front of her. She immediately missed his presence, his sheer strength behind her. He seemed so huge in the light and even more gorgeous then she’d thought. His black hair shone like a raven’s feathers. And maybe that was truer than she’d even thought. “You really were a bird?” It seemed a silly question to ask, but she asked it anyway.
147
N.J. Walters
“Yes.” He absently rubbed the tattoo. “We all have an animal or bird that we have an affinity with. We can shadow-shift into them and also share many of the animal’s characteristics and talents.” He knelt on the mattress in front of her and took her hands in his. “I swear I didn’t know I was meant to father the baby. But I’m not sorry I did.” Masculine pride dripped from every word he spoke. “I will protect both you and the child with my life.” His lips curved into a faint half-smile. “After all the centuries in shadows, I’m not sure I’ll know how to be a good husband, but,” he laughed, “I’m sure you’re more than willing to instruct me.” She launched herself into his arms and buried her face against his chest. His heart was thumping as wildly as her own. “Everything will be okay.” She didn’t know who she was trying to reassure, him or herself. But she’d set herself on a course and there was no turning back. And she didn’t want to. Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him, infusing it with all of her love and her passion. He groaned and thrust his tongue in her mouth, stroking and mating wildly with hers. Slanting his head to the side, he cupped the back of her head in one large hand and devoured her. Breaking away from him, she hauled her T-shirt over her head and flung it to the floor. His heated gaze practically scorched her flesh when she unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached out and brushed the pad of his thumb over one of her distended nipples. She felt that small movement all the way to her toes. Her core was hot and wet, throbbing for him. Coming up on her knees, she pushed the leather vest off his shoulders and slid it down his arms. When it dropped behind him, she stroked her hands back up his arms, marveling at his massive biceps and shoulders. Continuing down his chest, she flicked his flat nipples with her fingers, smiling when he suddenly gasped. He swooped down on her, plucking her off the bed and laying her flat on the mattress. Before she could blink, he’d yanked off her boots and had pulled off her jeans and panties. She lay totally naked in front of him. Rather than feeling self-conscious, she felt her own power as a woman, to be able to enthrall a man such as this.
148
Shadows Stir
Chapter Six Gideon was a starving man at a feast. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the giving, generous spirit that this woman possessed. She knew it all. Knew everything about him, yet still offered herself freely to him. His eyes never left her as he kicked off his boots, unlaced his pants and pushed them down his legs. His cock sprang out in front of him, large and hungry. Her eyes latched onto it and he almost came when she licked her lips. “Oh my,” she whispered. “I knew you were big, but…” She trailed off as she rolled up and knelt in front of him. Wrapping her fingers around his length, she lowered her head and swirled her tongue around the head, licking off the pearl of white fluid that had seeped from the tip. She made a small sound of pleasure before lowering her mouth over his cock, taking as much of it as she could. Gideon had never felt pleasure like this. Or if he had, it was so long ago that he had long since lost the memory. Threading his fingers though her short, silky hair, he guided her mouth as she stroked up and down his length. Her hands stroked the bulk of it that wouldn’t fit in her mouth. As much as he wanted to come in her mouth, he knew that this time needed to be different. Reluctantly, he pulled her head back until his cock sprang free from her mouth. He didn’t give her time to protest, but tumbled them both back onto the mattress. Taking one rosy, tight nipple into his mouth, he suckled gently while his hand cupped the other one. He loved every sigh, moan and cry he dragged from her as he continued to pleasure her. He loved the way that she tugged at his hair and his shoulders trying to get even closer to him. Giving the turgid bud one last nip, he began to lick and kiss a path down her torso. He took his time, tasting every square inch of her pale, soft skin as he worked his way lower. She moaned and squirmed when he nipped at her hipbones. But she held her breath when he reached the tight curls that covered her sex. Breathing deeply, he inhaled her essence before parting her lush, pink folds with his hands. Spreading her lips wide, he lost himself in her beauty. Wet. She was so wet, her flesh glistened. Needing to taste her, he lowered his head and licked all the way up one side and down the other. Then he blew gently on her pussy just as he sank two fingers inside her waiting heat. She bucked her hips as she thrashed her head from side to side. He loved to see her like this. Wild and uninhibited, reaching for her pleasure. His own skin was damp with perspiration, his cock was throbbing with need and his testicles were so tight they ached. Not yet. First he wanted to see her come. See her fly apart under his hands.
149
N.J. Walters
Gently catching the tiny nub of her clit between his teeth, he flicked it with his tongue as he continued to work his fingers in and out of her pussy. Her inner muscles tightened and he knew she was close. Jo shoved her hips toward him, wanting his fingers deeper inside her. Her chest hurt, she was panting so hard and her heart felt like it might explode from her chest. Every flick of his tongue sent a lightning bolt of desire through her. “More,” she moaned, gripping the sheets in her hands. Now. Now. Now. She chanted inwardly with each stroke of his fingers. Her entire body jerked as she spasmed around his thrusting fingers. The sheet ripped as her fingers tore through the fabric. Her hips arched toward him. Stars practically danced in front of her eyes as the intense pleasure engulfed her. Her thighs finally relaxed and fell open and her head lolled to one side. She felt amazingly replete and totally boneless. Gideon knelt up between her legs, leaned over her and pushed the damp hair from her forehead before gently kissing her lips. Placing one hand under her lower back and another under her shoulders, he lifted her into a sitting position. As if she weighed no more than a feather, he adjusted his hold on her, raised her up and slowly lowered her onto his waiting cock. As his thick erection surged into her pussy, she moaned. She was so tight and the sensitive tissue was swollen, but it felt so good that she wiggled her hips to try to take him deeper. He laughed, his breath tickling her neck as he controlled how quickly she took him. When he finally filled her completely, he sighed. The contentment in that small sound brought tears to her eyes, which she quickly blinked back when he leaned back to look at her. “You’re sure this is what you want?” His eyes were deadly serious. “There are risks and you are giving up the pure sunlight forever.” “I’m sure.” Her heart knew that this was the only man she would ever love. If fate had chosen him then she would take all of him, good and bad. “Besides,” she joked. “I’m grumpy in the mornings and I’m not always easy to get along with.” A ghost of a smile skirted at the edges of his mouth. “There is that,” he nodded. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reached out and laid his hand over her heart. She smiled at him and then did the same. Then she began to move. Knowing that it had to be her choice, she was the one who had to make love to him. Keeping her hand anchored over his heart, she raised her body up until only the tip of his cock was still inside her. Then she pushed back down, taking him as deep inside her as she could. There was something different about this time. An energy seemed to snap in the air around them. There was a charged sense of expectation. Of waiting. Her entire body thrummed with it, reached for it. Her breathing quickened and so did his. He matched her breath for breath and she drove them both toward ecstasy. 150
Shadows Stir
Her inner muscles suddenly began to spasm and as her hips fell toward him one last time, she cried out. Gideon captured her lips with his, swallowing her cry and offering her his yell of completion. His cock jerked inside her as he came. She felt it then as they were joined, mouth to mouth, heart to heart, sex to sex. Darkness filled her and she almost panicked. It was only her love for Gideon that kept her from pulling away. Light, a rainbow of energy chased the shadows away, but she sensed that it was still there deep inside her and knew that it was a part of her now. Just as Gideon was. Just as their child was. She slumped forward as exhaustion took her and she didn’t protest when she felt him disengage their tangled bodies and tuck her into bed. Climbing in next to her, he rolled her into his arms. With her head pillowed on his chest, she could hear the comforting rhythm of his heart. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Jo. For now and for eternity.” She fell asleep with those words echoing in her heart, safe in his strong, caring arms. She still had lots of questions, but she had eternity to have them all answered.
151
N.J. Walters
Epilogue The Shadow Lord sighed with relief. He had felt the shift in the energy and his heart lightened. Most would never see the difference in the darkness, but he could. It had lightened considerably. But it was still just a beginning. His men shifted uneasily as they, too, felt the change. He shifted in his chair and they all looked his way. Once again, he crooked his finger toward them. “Blade, I have a task for you if you are willing to undertake it.” Blade detached himself from the crowd and sauntered toward him. The Shadow Lord could see the curiosity burning in his eyes and knew he had done the right thing.
152
About the Author N.J. Walters worked at a bookstore for several years and one day had the idea that she would like to quit her job, sell everything she owned, leave her hometown and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the same bookstore and settled in for another seven years. Although she was still fairly young, that was when the mid-life crisis set in. Happily married to the love of her life, with his encouragement (more like, “For God’s sake, quit the job and just write!”) she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first erotic romance novel, Annabelle Lee, and life would never be the same. N.J. has always been a voracious reader of romance novels, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks all vie for her attention. And she doesn’t mind a bit. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it. N.J. welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by N.J. Walters Annabelle Lee Awakening Desires: Capturing Carly Awakening Desires: Erin’s Fancy Awakening Desires: Katie’s Art of Seduction Dalakis Passion 1: Harker’s Journey Dalakis Passion 2: Lucian’s Delight Dalakis Passion 3: Stefan’s Salvation Drakon’s Treasure Heat Wave Jessamyn’s Christmas Gift Tapestries: Bakra Bride Tapestries: Christina’s Tapestry Unmasking Kelly
PASSIONFLOWER Ravyn Wilde
Dedication This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandmothers, Jessie and Vera. They taught me many things. Not the least of which is how to snap a mean dishtowel, the correct way to trim a rose bush, and how to bake bread. It’s amazing how often I use these skills.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Popsicle: Joe Lowe Corporation The Twilight Zone: CBS Inc. Corporation
Ravyn Wilde
Chapter One Nancy Kilpatrick was ready to declare tonight’s exercise an abject failure. Pushing back her dinner, she ran her fingers up and down the stem of her wineglass in thought. Glancing down at her wristwatch, she grimaced. Forty-five minutes left. Almost regretting the promise she’d made to herself, she forced her mind to remember why she felt the need to spend at least two hours a week socializing. After a long year of caring for her ailing mother she’d become isolated from the world. Now…six months after her mother’s death she’d fallen into the habit of going straight home from work to curl up in bed with a book. Her job as a research analyst for a local biotech firm certainly didn’t allow many opportunities to make friends or share water cooler gossip. The office she worked in had three employees. She rarely moved from the computer. Even if the extent of her human interaction meant a solitary dinner and a couple of glasses of wine at the local restaurant-club, she knew she needed to get out of the house. At least make an effort before loneliness drove her to do something stupid. Like the morning she’d lain in bed wondering why bother, why not just take a few of the pain pills leftover from her mother’s cancer treatment and end the isolation she felt more deeply every day. No one would care…or mourn her passing. It wasn’t as if she had anything to look forward to. Shocked at her thoughts, she’d jumped up and thrown the pills down the sink, running water and the garbage disposal to make sure they were completely beyond temptation. She’d gone to work that day, and come home to take stock of her life. If she was lonely, then she needed to do something about it. If she was unhappy, then she damn well better find something to enjoy. Shifting in her seat she looked down at what she was wearing and grinned. Away from work her wardrobe usually consisted of sweats and a t-shirt. Part of her new attitude included putting on a smidgen of makeup and a nice outfit so she would feel like talking if anybody spoke to her. Well, she thought she looked pretty good for a thirty-five-year-old recluse. Wearing a knee-length, black skirt with a black beaded top, the outfit emphasized her chest and de-emphasized her waistline and hips. She’d given up the battle to lose twenty—well, maybe thirty—pounds. Without conscious thought, she mentally started an affirmation exercise she’d read about in a self-help book. I am tall. I am Rubenesque—which basically meant her curves had curves—and I am proud of that fact. Most of the time. Sighing heavily, Nancy realized her positive inner conversations needed a little work.
156
Passionflower
She wasn’t looking for anything more than just a little interesting conversation, but so far tonight the only banter she’d exchanged centered on what dressing she wanted for her salad. But she would stay in her seat for another few minutes. Contemplating the attached entrance to the club, she considered moving her glass of wine from the restaurant to a table inside Secrets. Building a reputation around the booths lining the walls, the owners draped each one in sound-deadening curtains that could be pulled to enclose the booth in its own little world. Then they’d taken a version of Las Vegas’ motto and made it their own. “What is said at Secrets…stays at Secrets.” Nancy was sure conversation wasn’t the only thing concealed by the heavy fabric. She knew she wasn’t ready to sit at a small table…sans draperies…and open herself to sure rejection when no one asked her to dance. Or to shrug nonchalantly and leave when no one sat with her to have a non-secret conversation. Hearing a whisper of sound as others in the restaurant broke into hushed conversations, she glanced up to see what caused this group of thirty-somethings to twitter—a local celebrity in their midst? Noticing all eyes seemed to be on the front entrance, she turned to follow their lead and did a double take. Holy cow! The man standing in the door of the restaurant was huge. Giant huge. Massive huge. Big. The gorgeous specimen of masculinity had to be well over six feet tall with the body of a pro wrestler. Gaping at the sight of muscles bulging in magnificent splendor, she had a very primitive reaction to the vision of his turquoise tank top stretched taut across an immense chest. Wow! The color was a perfect counterpoint to his long, straight, blond hair and caramel-colored body. His biceps looked like tree trunks. Large rippling tree trunks. His waist was slim and she didn’t have to strain her eyesight to see monumental legs molded in tight jeans, leaving little room for conjecture on his sizable assets. Oh, baby! She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Watching closely as he scanned the room, she was disappointed to discover she was too far away to see the color of his eyes. Able to observe the intensity and concentration in his gaze, she realized he was looking for something or someone specific. The man couldn’t be described as handsome—he was too rugged for such a soft word. The darker blond slash of eyebrows over seeking eyes set off a face that had been chiseled, not carefully sculpted out of flesh. His cheekbones were high, his nose large and slightly hooked, and his square jaw showed a bare hint of beard shadow. No, she would use words like compelling, raw, or…well, dangerous to catalogue him. Bad to the bone. Almost unable to take her eyes off him, a quick glance around the room reassured her she wasn’t the only one. Holding her breath as he lifted his hand to brush his nearly waist-length hair from blocking his vision, she sighed in concert with every woman in the room as his muscles flexed. His big, strong hand.
157
Ravyn Wilde
Squirming uncomfortably in her seat, eyes glazed as an active imagination started to list in surprising detail all the things he could do with those strong hands. She lost track of her surroundings. By the time her vision refocused, he’d swept one side of the room with his intense gaze and passed her by. No surprise there. But then his head turned back, and he caught her doe-in-the-headlight gaze and held eye contact. Sucking in a quick breath, she panicked as he hesitated for a long moment. Until another man came up behind him and said something. Breaking the connection, he looked away to answer the new arrival and her breath exploded from strained lungs. Heart thudding in a painful rhythm in her chest, she sighed a little sadly in relief. No way in hell am I ready for something like that! Nancy glanced at the new arrival, noticed the other man was built just as strong and big as the first hulky specimen, only he had short black hair. After a quick inspection she turned her attention back to the original hottie. The dark-haired guy was cute, but he didn’t make her feel as if one touch would be life altering. Like she’d ever get the chance to touch him? Sheesh! When the blond god glanced her way again, she lowered her eyes and shuddered. This whole experience was worth the torture of dining alone and she knew she’d fantasize about this man for weeks. Her thoughts were interrupted when the waiter came to take her plate away and ask if she wanted another glass of wine. With a glance at her watch she nodded yes. On her self-imposed time schedule, she still had half an hour to go. “May I join with you?” The deep voice stroked, resonating over her skin like a soft and very intimate touch. Huh? Nancy looked up…and up…into the eyes of the blond stranger. Standing over her table, he held a bottle of wine and a wine glass. With his groin a scant few inches from her face. Closing her eyes—oh, good lord, she so wasn’t prepared for this—she took a deep breath and opened them, careful to keep her gaze on his face. Feeling herself melt into a puddle of damp need, she lost her train of thought as eyes the same turquoise blue as his shirt focused on her. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard before she could complete her sentence. “Are you talking to me?” “Yes. I would very much like to join with you. Share a peculiar glass of my planet’s wine.” Okay. English is his second language. Her scattered brain cells somehow managed to figure out he probably meant join her…not with her. And peculiar… Ummm—special? Maybe he meant country instead of planet. Feeling as if she’d unraveled a particularly difficult puzzle, she nodded. She could deal with fifteen minutes of conversation and then make her excuses and leave. “Yes. You may join me. But I just ordered another glass of wine,” she said.
158
Passionflower
“Thank you. I would still like to share you with this brilliant drink, if you would tolerate me.” Nancy blinked, finally figuring out he wanted to share his wine. Great, what could it hurt? “I’d love to,” she murmured. “My name is Nancy. What’s yours?” And she held out her hand. Cocking his head to one side as if trying to translate her words, or figure out why she had her hand out, he finally reached out with his hand. His big, big hand enveloped hers in warmth and the completely sensual heat of his touch. “Ahh, NanCee. I am M’ike L dah. May I pour on you this glass of wine?” Ummm. Interesting translation if he promised to lap it up… Nancy quickly squelched that vision as she reluctantly drew her hand back to her side. “Thank you, Mike. I assume you’re not from the United States, so where are you from?” she asked as she passed him her glass. She saw a questioning look on his face and then a fast flash of panic before his features smoothed in understanding and he answered her. “You can take for granted I am not from here,” he replied. “My position is far away and very miniature.” What? Come on Nancy, think. She lost the translation for that one completely. Position…place…country. Miniature…small. She could take for granted or assume he wasn’t from the U.S. but his country was far away and small. Hallelujah, I’ve got it! And she wasn’t going any farther with that line of questioning. Before she could come up with something else she picked up her glass and took a small sip of the wine Mike brought to the table. And gasped. Oh, my. The flavor was unlike anything she’d tasted before. A little sweet, yet also tart, it seemed to wrap her in warmth, sending out a tendril of blossoming need to rush through her bloodstream. She could feel her breasts swell and her nipples grow taut as her pussy contracted and sent a faint trickle of wet demand seeping from her channel. Clenching her knees together, she prayed for the feeling to pass. “The Passionflower wine is very excellent, yes?” Passionflower. She’d never heard of it. Passion fruit, yes. But oh my god, the name for the wine was perfect. Meeting his hooded gaze, she fell into the depths of his eyes and nodded. “Ummm, yes. It is very excellent.” “So. We should make the miniature talk and get to make out with each other.” That one was easy. “Yes, we should make small talk and get to know one another. Are you in town on business?” She fought a mental battle to keep her body in check, keep it from pulsing and throbbing in wild abandon to the music of his voice. Gritting her teeth in growing frustration, she sighed internally. This is crazy! Smiling at her, he nodded. “Most grave business. Are you mated?” 159
Ravyn Wilde
Oh, yeah, right to the heart of the matter. “No. Are you married?” He shook his head no and asked another question. “So, you are vacant?” Oh, Jesus. She needed another drink for that one. Only the drink didn’t help, it just made her body more aware of every move he made, every breath he took. Hey. Maybe she needed a little karaoke tonight. Vacant? What was he—? Available. Yes! “Ummm. If you meant to ask if I’m single, the answer is yes.” Her body reaffirmed the answer with a sharp twinge of need and she struggled to keep her breath even. “Some women are double?” His look of confusion must have matched her own. And then he smiled. “Ahh…this means not dating.” Nancy swallowed heavily as he smiled. His look of delight sizzled and burned over her skin. She was in way over her head here. Nodding she took another drink and welcomed the rush of heat and desire, the heady promise. The wine and the man before her were the most exciting things to happen to her in a long time. M’ike told himself to be patient as he watched the woman sitting across from him. Pulsing through his body were the warring vibrations of frustration and heady excitement. He could feel his cock grow and twitch as reality dawned crisp and clear… After months of searching he’d finally found a female candidate for claiming. He’d been on this planet for several months, searching for a very special woman. One built to handle his size and passion, one with at least a small amount of psychic ability, whose sensual needs would blossom with a few sips of Passionflower wine. He needed to find an Earth female whose mental strength and passionate nature would match his. Up to this point the search had been futile. Growing discouraged with each foray among these people, his hopes that the planet Earth would prove a fertile ground to find a mate had been dwindling fast. Many of the women were fragile creatures, small in stature, without the necessary mental and physical strength to mate with a warrior of Lah’cee’Vus. He knew it had been done before, but he’d not been able to see how. He’d found women who met the physical requirements, but not the mental. Or if those necessary traits existed, then the Passionflower wine didn’t work to enhance their sensual hunger. But it seemed the woman before him was a good possibility. Physically beautiful, with long dark brown hair and large green eyes, her body’s curves enticed him to spend long hours in concentrated exploration. She had the bone structure to withstand his physical demands and her mental signature appeared strong and open to psychic schooling. One touch of her small hand cradled within his and his skin ached for more contact. Her aura throbbed with desire and need as it yielded to the erotic enhancement of Passionflower wine. She’d passed his initial personal requirements and many of the necessary tests. The small glimpse he had of her memories and personality assured him she would be a very loving woman if he could capture her heart as well as her body. 160
Passionflower
He was sure this woman, this NanCee, would make a fine mate. But his translator didn’t seem to be working. He worried if she would understand him well enough to accept an invitation to his ship. If she didn’t understand his words, the required acceptance couldn’t be given. And she must agree. The laws of his people forbid taking women who weren’t given a choice. All he needed to do was get her to say yes—of course, once he had her on board his ship he never had to let her go. And it would be too late for her to change her mind. So if talking wouldn’t work, he would have to try something else.
161
Ravyn Wilde
Chapter Two Music started in the next room and Mike smiled at her. “Do they have shimmying in the other space?” Translation came easier this time. Maybe it was the wine. He wanted to dance with her. The thought of being in his arms, of having her body pressed tight against his hard length, sent a flash of desire through her so intense she clenched her teeth together to keep from gasping out loud. Looking for liquid courage, she tipped her wine glass back and emptied it in one gulp. As he stood beside her with his hand held out in invitation, she realized taking that last big swallow had been a mistake. The wine went to her head and when she touched him, heat started where his hand enveloped hers and shot through her body to pool between her thighs. Biting back a groan of frustration, she told herself to get a grip. Mike pulled her to her feet and led her into the adjacent room and onto the dance floor. Sending up a prayer of thanks to the music gods for the slow song the band was currently crooning, she relaxed when he wrapped her in his arms and the music’s dark beat became a slow, sensuous temptation to slide her body against his. They fit perfectly together. Her lips rested just below his collarbone, the soft contours of her stomach became the perfect nest for his… Not going there! She needed to focus, concentrate on keeping her body still if she didn’t want to fuel the already ravenous fire in her blood. This was just a dance, not a public sex act, for Pete’s sake! The minute he moved against her she felt the press of his chest against her sensitive breasts and the growing bulge between his legs—concentration and good intentions were shot to hell. This time Nancy couldn’t hold her shocked gasp of arousal in check. Mike pulled her closer and bent his head to nuzzle against her ear. “Ummmm. It feels so good, this pleasure as our bodies touch and tease. Yes?” He slid one hand down her back and rested it just above her ass. She could feel him spread his fingers, his large hand cupping a full cheek as he drew her hips against him. She meant to pull back, meant to deny and chastise Mike for his flagrantly sexual comment and actions. But the hard evidence of his arousal pushing against her combined with the teasing caress of his mouth at her ear, and all thought of what he shouldn’t be doing fled with the onslaught of rising sensations. Immediately she decided to shift the boundaries of what she’d always found acceptable for a first date. Her inner voice clamored that it wasn’t a first date and she gleefully silenced its nagging. She’d much rather pay attention to how Mike’s mouth
162
Passionflower
was moving slowly down to touch her neck. In mindless supplication she arched into him as he opened his lips to tease the sensitive skin with his tongue. He bent his elbow and drew their joined hands to his chest, turning her just a little to one side so he could slide their hands between their bodies…and rub the back of his fingers over her covered nipple. Ohgodohgod. She knew she should make him stop. For no other reason than they were on a dance floor where others might see them. And she would. Soon. She could feel her nipple tighten into a hard nub against the rake of his fingers over her beaded top. The sweet temptation fueled her already wine-drenched senses and her heart beat faster. “More,” she whispered in broken demand. The small croak shocked some sense into her and she tried to pull back. With ease he held her captive and licked his way back to her ear. He murmured, “Let me take you back to my ship.” “Ship? What ship? I don’t think… No…I…can’t,” she gasped as his teeth closed over her earlobe. Her body raged at her for the expressed denial of his invitation. It wanted to go play. Her nipples were not happy, but her mind still remembered she shouldn’t pick up strangers. At her protest he didn’t stop dancing or hesitate for a second in dispensing sensual torture. The erotic shifting of his hips and the press of one hand on her backside added another layer as her mind whirled and fell into the overwhelming physical sensations. Her body didn’t hesitate to move with him, in fact she silently begged him to continue. When the music changed to a much faster beat, he straightened a little. He’d somehow managed to maneuver them to the front of one of the privacy booths lining the back wall. Looking down at it, she was shocked to see her purse and their wine glasses with the Passionflower wine bottle sitting on the table. “You won’t go to my ship. I thought this would give us solitary confinement.” Nancy didn’t even blink this time at his strange use of the English language. She wouldn’t leave with him, so somehow he’d arranged to have their things moved to the privacy booth. A space where curtains could be drawn around the table and no one would bother them while they got to know one another. She would be safe and yet somewhat alone with him. The question in her mind wasn’t when and how he’d managed to arrange everything while they were on the dance floor, it was could she do this? Her body screamed the answer for her as his hand went to the small of her back in a gliding caress. Yes! Sliding into the booth she tried to think while he pulled the curtain shut and scooted in close to her. What am I doing? Struggling to regain focus and come up with something to say, she took the glass of wine he handed her and took a sip. Then pushed the concerns aside as she tried another, letting the addicting awareness and warmth spread along every inch of her skin.
163
Ravyn Wilde
Talking seemed unnecessary as she watched in wide-eyed wonder as he set her glass on the table and dipped one large finger into his own glass. He brought his hand up to her mouth to brush the liquid across her lips. The cool wine tingled, the fragrance sweet and inviting as her mouth watered and her lips ached for more of his touch. Bending his head to her, he let the whisper of his breath tease along her skin. “The blush of the wine is the same perfect color of your lips.” For one moment she wondered how he could see the color of her lips when the lights were so dim. Then the world narrowed to the lush promise of his mouth. To say he kissed her would be a pale reflection of how he used lips and tongue and teeth to transport her to another world. A world where nothing existed but the pleasure he created. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the onslaught of sensation, in the texture and taste of him. Her hands sought and found the cool silk of his hair and she clutched the strands to hold him to her. Moving against him, she turned in the seat and opened her mouth so she could drown in the spicy cinnamon flavor of his taste and enjoy the hard press of his body against her side. Just a few minutes more, she thought. I just want a few minutes more and then I’ll stop this madness. Using one hand on the back of her neck, Mike held her still. His tongue speared into her mouth, slipping over her teeth to slide and flicker, hinting at other things he could do with both tongue and body. His free hand brushed over the bare skin of her arm to her waist and moving slowly, he worked his fingers just under the bottom of her blouse to lightly stroke her stomach. Long moments later, she whimpered when he drew back. Fluttering her eyes open, she sighed in deep satisfaction when he dipped his finger once again into his glass. She felt the tingling wine on her skin as he painted a cool track down her neck and across the exposed area of her chest to the deep V of her cleavage. She could feel the liquid run beneath her blouse and pool between her breasts. The wet path seemed to throb and burn with electric sensation. Arching her back she lightly pulled on the hair she still held tight in her hands, physically begging for the attention she knew was coming. As he bent to lick and lave his way over her sensitized skin she squirmed in mounting frustration. Mindlessly her body worked without success to give him better access and somehow assuage the avid inferno running throughout her body. Mike kept sliding his tongue between the swollen mounds of her breasts, trying to get to the wine between them. Groaning in frustration, her hands tugged against him when he didn’t maneuver well enough to lick her clean. “Easy, my na’a. I’ll take care of you.” Barely registering the use of his strange endearment or his promise of satisfaction, she felt his hands move around her waist. She couldn’t help yelping in surprise as he lifted her in one easy move to set her in front of him. In blind shock her hands went to his shoulders for support. Opening her eyes, she looked down to realize she was now sitting on the table with her legs open and arranged on either side of him. Struggling to close her legs, she bit her lip and glanced
164
Passionflower
worriedly at the curtain, imagining the people beyond. She would be mortified if someone saw them. Using his chest, Mike blocked Nancy’s attempt to close her knees. He leaned into her and used his hands at her waist to pull her toward the end of the table. She started to protest what he’d done, her voice refusing to work when she saw that his face was now even with her breasts. The rapt fascination in his gaze kept her from protesting further as he slowly moved his hands up to run his fingers over the exposed skin above her blouse. He made quick work of the buttons down the front and before she could form a word of denial, he’d spread the fabric open to reveal her black bra straining to contain her abundant chest. “Don’t, Mike. The people, lights. Too fat.” Locking his gaze with hers he shook his head, “Beautiful, wonderful, glorious breasts. All mine. No one will interfere. Not enough light.” Giggling a little nervously, she wasn’t sure if the language failed him, or if, like her, he was incapable of complete sentences. Before she could say anything, he reached out to touch her with the tip of his tongue. Sucking in a gulp of air, she pressed her lips together, trying to stop any sound she might make as he leaned in to lave the damp trail of wine between her breasts with his tongue. Shifting his hands to cup her, he pressed her large globes together and started flicking his thumbs over the lace fabric covering her distended nipples. “Oh, yes, Mike, yes.” Throwing her head back, she hissed as his hands continued to shape and play over her. His whispered endearments were hot and moist against her skin when he wasn’t exploring her curves with his mouth. The murmured words sent rippling contractions to her core. “So soft, filling my big hands. Made for me.” Feeling a tug on her bra, she leaned in and started panting when his fingers slipped between the fabric and her flesh. Pulling the cloth down to rest underneath her breasts, he arranged the fabric to push them up and out. She was completely exposed. “Mike!” Her protest was weak, more supplication than complaint. Her mind easily silenced by her body’s demanding and growing addiction to his touch and attention. “I love your nipples,” he murmured against the curve of her breast. She felt the wet slide of the wine and the rough texture of his fingers as he started decorating her nipples with its stimulating essence. The liquid seemed to catch fire there. The added scrape of his fingers ignited a desperate burning need she would just about kill to see quenched. It was easy to forget she was sitting on a table beside a crowded dance floor. Moaning loudly, she didn’t care if the entire town watched her at this point. When his mouth touched her this time she felt as if she would explode. Moving her hands to his head, once again she tangled her fingers in the long length of his hair and
165
Ravyn Wilde
held him to her. Her touch lost its gentle glide and she tugged his hair in anxious demand. Mike moved his tongue back and forth over her nipple, licking and laving in frantic bursts as she shuddered, rocking her hips in a silent plea for more. He opened his mouth over her and sucked the turgid bead into his mouth, drawing her deep. At the same time his hands slid down her thighs and back up as he pushed the material of her skirt higher. When he reached the top he moved one hand inward to brush his thumb over the damp silk hiding her center. Nancy whimpered in senseless yearning. “Please,” she gasped. “Oh, God…please more.” Her throaty entreaty seemed to trigger something within him. Ripping the small piece of fabric away as if it were paper, he sat back from her. “Nooooo,” Nancy wailed in frustration and agony as she slumped backward onto her elbows, resting them on the table. Opening her eyes to look at him, she found his burning gaze raking over her body. Looking down at herself, she imagined what he saw. Open blouse, the bra pressing under her breasts, her nipples swollen and wet from his mouth. Her legs were spread wide with her skirt pushed up to expose her damp pussy. Feeling her body thrum with interrupted desire, her innate shyness kicked in and she moved to cover herself from his gaze. “Don’t!” he growled as he stopped her from pulling her legs together with the shift of his body. One hand settled on her stomach to hold her in place while he reached for the glass of wine. Her heartbeat jumped in apprehension when he held the glass to her lips. She shook her head, thinking to refuse him. He held the glass before her until she smelled the fruity spice of the wine and her mouth watered. What would one tiny sip hurt? As she swallowed the large amount he poured into her mouth, she reveled in the spreading zing she now associated with the Passionflower wine. Beneath half-closed eyelids she saw Mike take a drink and hold the wine in his mouth. Holding her breath, she watched intently as he moved both hands to her hips and lifted her ass off the table…and bent to place his mouth over her center. The warm caress of his mouth combined with the trickle of cool wine over her exposed flesh as he released the fluid to run into and over her. The sensations focused her attention and turned her into a mindless supplicant, pushing all thoughts out of her head of what lay beyond the curtain. Collapsing under the barrage of feelings, she fell onto her back on the table and stretched her arms over her head to find the edge and hold on. Bowing her body she felt him wrap his fingers around her ankles and move her feet on top of the table so she could drop her knees down and fully expose herself to his assault. Licking her from back to front, he circled her clit and fluttered his tongue over the hardened nub. Nancy thrashed her head back and forth, keening through the tidal wave of pleasure, “Ohgodohgodohgodyeeessssss!” The wet heat of his mouth ignited the wine’s sensual properties and the erotic glide of his tongue drove her insane.
166
Passionflower
Clenching her jaw tight, her entire body poised on an astonishing threshold—she wanted to scream and release some of the sensual tension. But a tiny piece of her brain reminded her of where she was, of the people just beyond the curtain. People who would be able to open the curtain and see her spread almost naked on the table, arranged with a blond god between her thighs—his entire focus centered on feasting on her flesh. The music was loud but if she shrieked through her orgasm she knew she’d be heard. The danger of discovery added a secret thrill she’d never before imagined and heightened her arousal. She was so close…so damn close. “Don’tstoppleasedon’tstopdon’tstop.” Every nerve ending in her body was involved in the race toward completion. She would kill before she let him leave her like this, so begging was certainly justified. She felt his hand move up over her stomach to her breast and he added the pinch of his fingers twisting and pulling her nipple to the insanity created by his tongue. Moving his mouth away before she had a chance to protest, he replaced it with a finger. Gently he pushed into her quivering flesh. The finger was big, thick…but not enough. “Please.” Her cries died as he rose over her and grabbed her by the hair to tilt her head back so he could bury his face in the side of her neck. Pressing his covered cock into her thigh, he rocked his hand against her clit and groaned into her ear “You are so tight, na’a. It will take days for me to prepare you for my cocks. I’ll need to make you come with my mouth and hands many times before you can hold my thickness. Let me take you to my ship. Naked. Both of us…someday to pound my cocks into you. Pleasure you for hours without stopping. Please? Just say yes.” Mike nibbled his way down her throat to her breast. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and bit lightly. With the increasing carnal demands of her body, she ignored his use of the words days and cocks. Her mind dismissed the plural forms, as she’d already established how difficult speaking English was for him. It was harder to dismiss the picture in her mind of days spent just like this. His growled request blended with the suckling mouth on her nipple and the unrelenting slide of his finger in her cunt. In. Out. Slowly, oh-so slowly he moved his thumb to flicker over her clit as he finger fucked her. Before she knew the end was near, the climax burst through her body, exploding in an almost violent seizure within every nerve. She screamed, “Yesssss!” and Mike covered her mouth with his as lights burst all around them. And then everything went black. M’ike looked down at his sleeping mate. Mentally verifying with Za’ne that his comrade heard both the question, and NanCee’s answer to his ritual query—the moment she screamed “Yes!”—he’d telepathically transmitted her to the waiting air shuttle. Was the yes in answer to his asking her to come back to his ship, or a response to the climax he’d given her? It didn’t matter either way—she’d said the word after he asked the question, and now she was his.
167
Ravyn Wilde
As soon as she woke from her transfer-induced sleep, her training could begin.
168
Passionflower
Chapter Three Holy hell…she had the mother of all headaches. The combination of the Passionflower wine and the intense…orgasm… Oh! Oh, no! Last night’s excesses and her uncharacteristic behavior flashed in vibrant detail across the pounding neurons of her mind and she groaned. She could feel her body blush as she replayed the evening’s events in teeny-tiny detail. She mentally scrambled to remember what had happened after she screamed loud enough for the entire room at the club to hear. Everything leading up to her Big O moment was etched crystal clear on her psyche, but the events after her screaming orgasm were a complete blank. Shifting on the soft, warm mattress, she decided it felt as if she were lying on smooth satin. Or slick skin. Oh, dear God! She didn’t have satin sheets. But she couldn’t have…she wouldn’t… Would I? The last thing she remembered was Mike begging her to go back to his…ship. And in the middle of his request her body shattered in cataclysmic reaction to his hand and mouth—and she’d screamed one word. Yes. He couldn’t have thought she meant— But he wouldn’t have known where she lived to take her home— Hopefully he hadn’t left her lying naked on the table— Obviously she’d been unconscious, so he could have just dumped her at the local hospital— Her mind ran in circles. How embarrassed would she be if he’d left her with orgasm overdose at a hospital? That would be much worse than waking up to find he’d taken her home with him. It didn’t feel like she was lying in a hospital bed. Before she panicked she needed to know where she was…exactly. But she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes and remove the niggling questions. Moving a little confirmed part of her situation and she realized she needed something else. Clothes. She was naked and sprawled across a hard body. Oh, please let this body be Mike. The crazed notion that she’d thrown out all her inhibitions, let Mike finger fuck her on a table in the middle of a goddamn room full of people and then gone home with someone else, scared the crap out of her. Slut puppy. Shut up, subconscious. One sexual binge in ten years of life does not a slut puppy make. Unless the wine had numbed her beyond imagining, she was pretty sure it was only once…so technically that meant she wasn’t a slut puppy. Right? 169
Ravyn Wilde
“It’s all correct, M’ala, NanCee.” The soft rumble of noise below her ear confirmed her suspicions beyond avoidance. Yes, she was draped naked over Mike’s chest. It was time to panic and somehow extricate herself from this awkward situation. She ignored the fact that the man had just spoken to her in some language she’d never heard before and she understood almost every word. He called her some strange name and somehow her brain substituted right for correct…but she got the picture. And either he’d read her mind or guessed her discomfort. Maybe he was just being nice? It didn’t make her feel any better when he smoothed his hand from the top of her head along her very naked body to her hip, murmuring soft words. Words that sounded an awful lot like mate and planet and training. The awe-inspiring climax must have twisted the connections in her brain. So. The question of the moment seemed to be whether she could open her eyes and deal with removing herself from this stranger’s arms. She did not need the intrusive nagging of her conscience as it reminded her that this stranger had more intimate knowledge of her body than anyone else she’d ever known. “You are not going anywhere, M’ala. If you would but open your eyes, I could start your training. I grow impatient for the day when you will be able to mate with me. I am having a hard time keeping my cocks from your body. I would not hurt you.” Okay. Fantasy lover has just burst any dream of getting through this morning-after with a modicum of sanity. Nancy cracked open one eye and glared at the dark nipple on the naked chest below her. Refusing to be distracted by the sight of tan rippling muscle and the hairless expanse of skin under her cheek, she positioned her hands on that warm flesh and pushed her body up enough so she could glare at him. Eye to eye. “What in the hell are you talking about? And where in the hell have you taken me? Don’t think just because I let you…well, you know what you did…don’t think that means I’ve—” She stopped her tirade, not because she’d run out of words, but because he put a finger over her lips for silence. And because she caught a glimpse out the window beside the bed at what was on the other side of the glass. Forgetting her nakedness, she scrambled over the top of Mike and pressed her nose to the window. It was cold. A chill ran down her spine, not from the cold pane of glass, but from the view of the planet and stars laid out before her. “That looks like Earth.” Her tone of voice clearly indicated she wanted him to correct her. “It is Earth.” The man did not know what was good for him. She tried again. “Soooo. This isn’t a real window, but some type of painting. A very realistic painting that is supposed to look like we are in space above—” “We are currently orbiting your Earth.”
170
Passionflower
“Orbiting?” Great. Her one sexual experience in a decade and she picked a hunky looking man with a bunch of loose screws. “I am not put together with screws. I am flesh and blood as you are. We are both humanoid. There are just a few disproportions in my structure, but with time…you will be able to mate with me and birth pods of my children.” “Awk!” Nancy spun around and her gaze went to his lap. Where she noticed he still had his pants on…but there was a very large bulge… Disproportions—disparity— differences. Surely he was just talking about size. Cocks. Several times he’d used the word cocks. Not cock. And what the hell did he mean when he said pods? Quickly discarding anything she wasn’t able to deal with, she pounced on something else she’d noticed. “You’re reading my mind.” “Yes.” “And what am I thinking right now?” Nancy glared at him. Tried to focus her thoughts on hurting him, but she kept getting distracted by the glint of light on his pecs, the dark blond trail of hair just below his belly button that disappeared at the edge of his pants…the gigantic bulge that she swore she could see throbbing— “I did not put nails in your drink. You have an untidy heap of contemplations. You think you want to do violence on my body and are wondering where you are. The most motivating fascinations in your mind are those where you are in suspense to see me naked. But that will have to wait. I need to get you to the training room, to make your body acceptable to me.” Nails in her drink? Oh! One of those untidy contemplations had been wondering if he’d spiked her drink. The man was clearly a fruitcake. Unfortunately his nuttiness didn’t stop her from wanting to see him naked. She just wished he would stop talking about training, she expected a choke collar and chain to appear any moment. Nancy squealed as Mike laughed and stood up. In one smooth motion he bent to gather her in his arms, then he turned and strode out of the room she hadn’t even looked at. She beat at his shoulders with her hand, trying ineffectively to get him to put her down. Within seconds they’d left his room through a door that slid open without any movement from him, walked down a short hall and through a metal door that also moved on its own. She swore she could hear the theme music from The Twilight Zone playing in the background. Before she could blink, she was strapped to a table in what looked like a very technologically advanced lab. Swallowing heavily, she decided this was much worse than the imagined doggy collar. “What are you doing?” Her voice rose loud and shrill. M’ike turned to look at his NanCee, lying naked and spread before him. Her large breasts were tipped with pretty pink nipples puckered and tight with excitement, fear, or the colder air in the lab. Frowning he reached out to adjust the temperature control on the panel in front of him and then continued his perusal of his mate.
171
Ravyn Wilde
Her skin was pale, like the rare stones from the planet Nia. The soft mound of her belly enticed him and he tamped down the desire to mold and sculpt every inch of her flesh with his hands and mouth. First he needed to prepare her. With deep satisfaction he noted her hips were wide enough to take his body and cradle his massive girth. His gaze caught and held on the small strip of dark brown curls covering her mound. Unable to resist, he reached out a finger to test their silkiness. They were as soft as he remembered from the night before. At NanCee’s gasp, he raised eyes to hers. Her beautiful bright green gaze was furious. But a quick glance at the control panel assured him she was also slightly aroused. Well, he could answer her questions and increase her arousal at the same time. “My name is not Mike. It is M’ike. With the translator I have gifted you with, you should now be able to hear the difference. You are on my ship, called the Dee’ca’dunce, it is my home when I am away from the planet Lah’cee’Vus.” “Decadence, your ship is named decadence? Gifted me? Are you talking about putting some kind of a device in my head? Obviously, since I can’t understand most of what you’re saying, the thing is not working. And what do you mean you are from lascivious?” He let her rant, paying little attention to her stream of verbal abuse. Distracted by her mental conflict with his words, NanCee did not seem to notice when he picked up a large jar of Passionflower cream. Filling his hands with the silky emulsion, he began rubbing it into her body. He started with her breasts, knowing how sensitive they were…and he hoped it wouldn’t take long for the potion to work its magic. The Passionflower’s properties only affected a small percentage of individuals who were already attracted to each other. Last night he had used the diluted wine to make sure his chosen woman would be open to both him and the small flower’s properties. Her vulnerability to its influence would ensure his ability to make this woman his mate. The cream was much stronger than the wine, but it still wouldn’t generate passion and cravings in a person unless a flare of attraction existed between them. And whether NanCee liked it or not, she was attracted to him. In her mind he could see the battle raging, he could feel her refusal to just give in to her body’s needs and enjoy her time with him. Of course she hadn’t yet realized how that time would now extend for the rest of her life. Reading her memories, he felt a rush of pride over what he found. She’d had few joys over the last few years, yet he could still see times when she managed to laugh. Usually at herself. He frowned at that, finding no humor, only delight in her body. As she twisted and pressed her body instinctively into his hands, he avidly watched the monitors for heightened signs of desire and noticed her breathing increase. He’d coated her body with the lotion, now it was time to get her to ingest more of the wine. “Your throat is arid. Here, my na’a, have something to drink.”
172
Passionflower
Funny how translating his weird usage of the English language became easier each time he opened his mouth. Her throat was parched. The weird thing about his misuse of simple words was her subconscious telling her he wasn’t speaking English, and the problem understanding him centered in her translator devise. If she believed her own mental warnings she’d go crazy, so she refused to even acknowledge those quiet urgings. Absently taking a sip of the liquid he pressed on her, she thought about her situation. As if the visual reminders of her circumstances weren’t enough. She was bare-assed naked and attached to a table on an alien spaceship. Drinking more of the damn wine that got her into this mess in the first place, the liquid burned through every cell with a scorching fire that turned her into a nymphomaniac. Never again would she worry about staying home and reading books in bed. Home was good. Solitude even better. In fact, if she ever made it home she decided she would lock herself in her little house and never come out again. A grocery delivery service and online bookstore would take care of all her needs. The dumb little voice in her head pointed out that not all her needs could be satisfied that way. It was hot in the little lab room. Really hot. Her skin seemed to crawl and dance to every movement M’ike made. “Not Myke, Mah-eek.” “Whatever. Stay out of my head, Mah-eek. Untie me and quit giving me Passionflower wine, haven’t you heard of water?” “I cannot unbind you. Of course I’ve heard of water. Lah’cee’Vus is a world full of the material. In fact, when your training is done I will need to mount you with an inside breathing devise. But water won’t help me in your training.” Oh, good lord. The visual accompanying his words nearly sent her into hysterics. Choking on her laughter she sputtered, “Fit. You need to fit me with a—wait a minute! I am not going anywhere lascivious with you. I don’t need a breathing thingy added to my body and I am not being trained for anything.” Nancy watched intently as he managed to ignore her screaming denials while he fiddled with some knobs on the nearby panels and muttered something about adjusting her transformation. She knew he meant translator, but still she kept a very close eye on the man. If she were honest with herself, it wasn’t a hard job. He was either nut house material or an alien. She hadn’t decided which one yet, but either way he epitomized the word hot. Watching long golden hair brushing the top of his tight ass when he turned his back to her, or the washboard glory of his stomach when he faced her, made her itch to touch him. While she couldn’t exactly read his mind, she kept getting flashes of what she assumed were his memories and emotions. She could actually see Lah’cee’Vus. Small,
173
Ravyn Wilde
green island outcroppings dotted an endless turquoise expanse of water. Caverns below the surface were filled with strange furniture and people. She felt an emotional connection between them. Recognized a deep loneliness and the newfound hope that he’d found his mate. Found her. She wrenched her mind away from his when she realized her empathetic nature had her yearning to hold him. To tell him everything would be okay, she was here. It was easier to just look at his body. Her perusal of his assets stopped when she caught sight of something that looked uncomfortably like a large dildo in his hands.
174
Passionflower
Chapter Four “What in the hell is that and what do you think you’re going to do with it?” Looking at her with a puzzled expression, he swung the large cock-shaped tube around and pointed it at her. “Have you not been paying attention to my words? I am going to train you. Your body is so small, so tight. Taking my cocks will be uncomfortable for you if I don’t stretch you first.” No more could she ignore his use of the plural. “Wait. Just wait a minute here. Humans have only one cock. Is the translator not working correctly or do you really have two of the things? And if you do—let me tell you this isn’t going to work, I don’t care how much stretching you do, I’m not made—” “Don’t worry, na’a. It has been done before, and it will work. You have two entrances to your body and mine is made to fit both.” As his hands moved to the top of his pants she struggled against her bonds, on the off chance that he wasn’t crazy she did not want to see this. Too late. Her mind warred with the compulsion to close her eyes, but her lids wouldn’t move. Standing naked in front of her, his astronomical cock bobbing in all its glory, she noticed a smaller version directly underneath. In shock she realized what he was talking about. “The smaller one is called a “schlong” or small cock and needs to be buried within your body for the seeds of life to be released and sent to the larger cock. If you are not in heat, or we only have time for a fastie, then I will enter you from behind and the schlong will rub against the outside of your body and tickle your pleasure button. We can also do this as a form of birth control when you’ve just birthed a pod.” Unable to utter a word, she tried desperately to focus on what he was saying and not the erotic if somewhat scary vision. Licking her suddenly dry lips, her eyes widened at the straining sight before her. Oh, my God! She didn’t think she could put two hands around his girth, and the big one had to be at least a foot long. Whimpering, she tried unsuccessfully to push away the mental picture of her on her knees, with M’ike pumping his hips while his very large cock split her in half and his schlong rubbed her clit for a quickie. Her mind stuck on only one thing. Stay away from me. He wasn’t going to be touching her with that…that tree limb of a cock. And if he thought he was going to stick his schlong up her ass so he could make babies? Well. What the hell did he mean by pod? Never mind. Not in this lifetime. Mumbling why me? She was stunned when all of a sudden a window opened up into his mind. What she saw infuriated her so much she didn’t question how she got her
175
Ravyn Wilde
answer. “You want me to believe that as an alien from another planet, you’ve chosen me to be your mate on the strength of a susceptibility to Passionflower wine and the fact that I’m a large boned women who…what? Has enough meat on these large bones that I won’t break when you fuck me? I am not amused.” “Do not forget that observably you have some psychic capacity.” “Screw psychic abilities. Take me home.” Jerking against the straps holding her to the table, Nancy could feel her heart thud in her chest and sweat break out across her forehead. This is not happening to me! She could feel the cream he’d rubbed into her body start to tingle and burn. Oh, jeez. Not now. She did not want her body to react to what he was planning to do to her. “You don’t understand, my na’a. You are my mate. I feel your fear and improbability. But I also have seen your memories. You have been alone. Sad. You never have to be this way again. I will take you to my home where my family will welcome you. We will have lots of children who will cherish you as I do already. You will never be alone again. To do this, I must resize you.” His words were more seductive than what he’d been doing to her body. She wanted to curl up and let him take her home with him. Which was just insane. She didn’t want to be resized. Not unless he was taking about taking inches off her hips. She didn’t think that’s what he meant. As she fought her response to the picture he painted of an idyllic alien life, she kept her gaze glued to his every action. Kept her eyes away from his cocks. Her mouth dropped open as he scooped up cream to rub up and down the dildo. Like a buzzing in her brain, she could hear snippets of his thoughts and feel his urgency grow as he prepared the flexible dildo with a deadening cream to stop any pain she might experience as he inserted the first of many training devices. She found the information that each one was made out of some sort of material that would expand with her own secretions…stretching her passage until it would need to be replaced with a larger dildo until she was big enough to accept him. He was prepared to take weeks training her. Oh, hell no! With her body strapped to the table, all M’ike had to do to position her was flick a switch. The motion caused a little whirring noise and she found her legs being drawn apart and her knees slightly bent. One hand holding the offending dildo, he used his free hand to dip into what she knew from his thoughts was Passionflower cream. This cream was stronger than the wine, meant to raise her sensual need to a breaking point. Through their mental connection she felt his resolution and desperate need to make her ready for him. Shared his delight as he spread the Passionflower cream all over her pussy, all while he monitored the electronic display to see her desire rise. And it rose. High and fast, she could feel all her body’s resources locked on the area between her legs. Her emotions became tangled up in his. She could feel how proud he was of her life, that he thought her not only beautiful but also strong and caring. She
176
Passionflower
knew he’d scoured her mind for information on her likes and dislikes. He was already trying to figure out how to get a steady supply of chocolate delivered to his planet for her monthly cravings. Wasn’t that sweet? No! With her body and mind at war, it irritated her that she couldn’t move to fight him or stop her body’s hungry reactions to his ministrations. Her cries turn to mewling sobs as he bent over to lick the cream from her slit. He slid the first dildo carefully inside her tight channel. It was tight. Burned a little. He hooked the dildo up to one of the machines and it started to pulse within her. She hated the fact that she loved this. Fought not to give in to the consuming pleasure. Oh, my hell, that felt good. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheek. M’ike didn’t say anything. But he moved to stand beside her, smoothed her tears away with the gentle stroke of one finger and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. His concern only made the situation worse. Nancy squinted up at the overhead light and wondered how long she’d been in the lab. Long enough she’d lost track of time. Here day blended into night, punctuated only by her cries of passion or her whimpering when M’ike kept her poised on the edge of release. She’d changed from a person who lived for mental pursuits, to one whose reason for being revolved around orgasms. Her life consisted of pulsing electrodes attached to her nipples and clit while she waited in aching expectation for each training session…thrived on the times when her juices expanded each dildo to capacity so he’d have to replace it with a larger one. Now instead of begging him to take her home, she demanded more. The doors opened. Nancy knew it was M’ike. There to feed her passion fruit from his hand and help her drink Passionflower wine before he played with her body. Idly she wondered if this might be a new diet, she thought she might be losing weight. M’ike exclaimed in horror after hearing her thoughts, “No! I will have to prepare something else for you to eat if you are smaller. I will not allow you to shrink. You need to keep what size you have and attach more. If you are less, I could smash you.” “Very funny, M’ike. Just when I think there might be a silver lining to this training thing, you want to fatten me up.” It no longer alarmed her that she knew what he was thinking. Could feel his body burn for her. His mind and soul constantly touched hers, eager to have her turn to him with more than lust. And still she knew he worried that the connection wasn’t deep enough. Strong enough. That she held something back. She had to fight to keep from promising her undying love. Those were his thoughts, not hers. “Let me go, M’ike. Please.” “I can’t, M’ala. You complete me. Are mine to love and cherish.” “This doesn’t seem like cherishing.”
177
Ravyn Wilde
“I know it seems harsh, but without the training I would hurt you physically when we come together.” He seemed intent on ignoring what she meant. She wanted to leave. Not just the lab, but also the ship. If she didn’t leave soon, she wouldn’t want to go. His next words refocused her attention. “Ah, my na’a. You are stretching and soon will be able to take my size. Now we must prepare you for the times of joining. I need to make sure you will not pass into unconsciousness halfway through our physical mating.” Warily she met his gaze. “What are you talking about? What more could you do to me?” “I have only begun, M’ala. You must be conditioned to keep from reaching orgasm for many hours at a time. As a warrior of my planet, it will take me much time to come to peak, especially when my schlong is buried within you. It must reach a very high temperature before it allows the seeds of life to burst from my body. If you climaxed right away…or too many times before I could reach the summit of my pleasure, then you would become in a coma. And what fun would there be in this?” “Did you just say hours?” Hell, it didn’t take her five minutes to go screaming over the edge of passion each time he so much as walked into the room. Her body had been conditioned to peak in his presence. Now he wanted her to develop some control? “Yes, many hours. We will start now. I have reprogrammed the electrodes on your body that keep your juices flowing and your body pulsing with need. Now they will allow you to get excited, to get close to your screaming time, but then they will help you back off.” As M’ike said this, NanCee could hear the whisper of sound that meant the door to the chamber had opened. Someone else was in the room. Unsuccessfully she tried to turn, to see who’d come in the room. M’ike sensed her growing agitation, and motioned Za’ne into her sight. At her wide-eyed look of horror and agitated thrashing, he hurried to explain his comrade’s presence. “M’ala, you have noticed how I must exit during your training. When your cries get overly urgent and your body and your mind beg me to take you, I have to leave. My soul and physical structure have been tuned to yours, when you cry out so desperately for my cocks, I must abandon you. You haven’t been stretched enough to take my gargantuan being. I would die before hurting you, my na’a, and yet I can stand only so much. For this part of a woman’s training, it is accepted that I must bring in a comrade. Za’ne is not harmonized to your body and he will be able to resist your cries of begging passion and continue to work you into a frenzy of lust without leaving your side. And he will not allow you the solace you will seek. Unluckily, I will often have to exit from you, to keep my mind sane and my body from ruthlessly joining to yours.” Locked to her thoughts, he felt NanCee’s shock, then dismay. And finally the little spark of arousal as her body realized that his big, dark friend would also be in performance on her body. When she tried to squash the intruding thought, he used their mental connection to send her visuals of what the two of them would be doing to
178
Passionflower
her. Together and separately they would provide more pleasure than she’d ever imagined. His biggest fear was that by doing this, she’d end up hating him. She might learn to crave his body, but would she ever love him? He reached over to hit the switch to drop the lab bed closer to the floor. It expanded in size and yet kept her bound. He moved another switch and the shackles at her wrists moved, her hands shifted away from where they’d been lying by her sides to stretch over her head. A small pillow formed under her upper back and hips. She lay spread before the two of them, legs open. Hips and chest thrust upward to make an offering of her naked flesh. Ignoring her verbal protests, he focused on her body’s building excitement. Her awareness of the two strong warriors of Lah’cee’Vus was total. She tried to keep her gaze locked with his, but her eyes kept roving over to Za’ne. As it should. It was good the other man did not repulse her, this would be the only time in her life he would be willing to share her passion. She should make the most of it. As Za’ne’s hands went to his clothing and he started to strip, his voice growled with the excitement and the words to increase NanCee’s awareness of him. Stepping to the side so that his dark friend would consume her attention, M’ike continued to monitor her thoughts and feelings. Holy shit! M’ike intends on sharing me with this…this…Oh, dear God! He is taking his clothes off. This is the man from the restaurant, the one with short dark hair who stood behind M’ike and I dismissed him from my thoughts. And now he is standing naked before me, his cocks primed and ready for action and I really don’t want—Okay, I shouldn’t want to be seeing this. Her lips started to frame the word “no” when Za’ne reached over to grab a bottle of some sort of oil and started rubbing it into his chest. The glistening liquid accented the stark beauty of his muscles; this man was a little shorter, a little broader than M’ike. He was a beautiful specimen of alien work. But she really didn’t think… Damn! His hands dropped down to rub the oil into his cock. Cocks. He stroked first one, wrapping his huge hand around its length and pumping a few times before he dropped to use his fingers on his schlong. He moved to the side of the bed, toward her head. “I won’t be digging into your pussy with these monsters. This deadening oil will make sure I remember my promise to my comrade. But I will tease your body, rub myself over every inch of your flesh, and my lips and teeth will torment you until you scream and beg for more. If your mate gives me leave, I may even see how much of your mouth will fit around my cock, maybe let you lick me like an Earth Popsicle. Do you like this idea, little pet? Can I play with your pretty nipples?” Nancy swallowed. Hard. And then turned to see M’ike’s blazing turquoise eyes focus on her. He moved to the head of the bed and pushed into Za’ne’s shoulder. “She will be licking my cock first. Put your mouth and hands to use on her sweet cunt. I have yet to have this treat and I will always be first when we train her to new pleasures,” M’ike growled at his friend.
179
Ravyn Wilde
Then M’ike knelt on the bed beside her, bringing his hands to her nipples and rubbing his thumbs over their protruding peaks. He shifted the little electrodes off to the sides of her breast, and bent over to capture her mouth. Drawing back from the short kiss, he smiled at her when she gasped and arched into Za’ne’s light stroke over her mound. M’ike’s voice whispered over her skin in a silken caress. “Listen to me, M’ala. Your mind is heavily guarded from blending with mine. It is as if you have thick bars, and they keep me from creating a bridge between our mental synapses. Little bits and pieces of information can trickle through, but I am unable to merge with you. I must be allowed to do this, to help your body and soul during our mating. If you can’t let me in, you will be overwhelmed. I have been able to increase your skin hunger, but not to open your psyche to the possibilities. You’ve reached a sensual plateau I cannot cross alone. To help you break through these barriers, Za’ne and I will occupy your body. In the process your mind will be freed.” Before M’ike finished his speech, Nancy lost what little mind she had. She could feel Za’ne settle between her legs, his broad shoulders forcing them farther apart as he used his fingers to part her labial folds and gusts of hot air blown from his mouth teased over her flesh. Moaning in denial, in abject craving for what he would do to her, she looked down her body and saw his dark head buried between her thighs. M’ike’s blond head came down and blocked her view as he bent to her breast. His mouth started to suckle, to lave and lap with the same cadence as the man between her legs. Both men ignored her pleas for mercy, her demand for fulfillment, for release. The sensual torture was never-ending. When her voice grew hoarse, M’ike would let her drink from a cup of wine. Which may have soothed her throat, but only increased her body’s torment. Every time she got close to shuddering over the edge of pleasure, they would back off. Or someone would flip a damn switch on the machine monitoring her reactions and she would feel electrical pulses shoot through her body and somehow dampen her arousal. It was never enough to let her rest or catch her breath. And then M’ike straddled her chest. Careful not to rest his body on hers, he positioned his cock before her mouth. She wanted him. Wanted to stretch her tongue out to feel the soft, heated plum of his erection. He was too large for her to take more than the tip. But she licked and sucked and swirled around that throbbing head. Delighting in his grunting pleasure, she moaned around him at a particularly fevered onslaught on her clit from Za’ne. Pulling back, she looked up into her mate’s eyes. That thought startled her for a moment. Her mate. Just as quickly she shrugged it off. It fit. “Rise up. Please, M’ike, rise up and let me take the little one in my mouth!” she panted. He quickly obliged her, using his strong legs to lift a little higher, putting his hands in straps she hadn’t noticed hanging from the ceiling. His schlong fit in her mouth, all the way in, and she looked up at M’ike to see him take his large cock in one hand and pump along with her bobbing head. She heard him bark some command to 180
Passionflower
Za’ne and then gasped around M’ike’s schlong as she felt Za’ne insert another one of those damn dildos. Za’ne slowly worked it inside her, and then pulled it out. Put it back in, using the thing to thrust in and out of her like a man’s cock. Then Za’ne must have bent over her again. She felt his mouth close over her clit, felt the flurry of his tongue as he drove her mad. Felt M’ike jerk above her and pull away from the ministrations of her mouth. “I must leave you, na’a. I must go.” She felt M’ike’s pain. Read his frustration and building jealousy. Part of him wanted to release her from her training. But this desire warred with the need to meld with her mind. Before she could open her eyes and reach out to him, the air swooshed with the sound of the lab door opening and closing. She was left alone with Za’ne. Za’ne’s hand kept working the dildo between her thighs as he shifted to crawl up the bed and slide his body along hers. With wide eyes she watched as he lowered his head to her breast, pausing to meet her gaze. “I’ve wanted to get my mouth on these nipples all night,” he murmured as he lowered his head and licked across the puckered nub. The sensual onslaught started over.
181
Ravyn Wilde
Chapter Five Nancy didn’t know when Za’ne left, or when M’ike returned to her. She only knew when she regained consciousness her body still burned with cataclysmic frustration and M’ike was lying pressed into her side. When he reached out to stroke along her damp skin, she relaxed into his touch and raised her head for his gentle kiss. She knew from his thoughts that he’d come to release her. To give her the orgasm she craved so badly and let her go. He loved her. And she was very afraid she loved him. At that moment, the mental bridge M’ike wanted snapped into place. At his shouted cry of exultation, Nancy barely had time to acknowledge the short zip of sadness she’d felt when she thought he’d let her go. No chance of that now. He swooped over her and caught her mouth in a kiss that should have set her hair on fire. Then he pulled back, and reverently gazed into her eyes. “You are mine now. Mine to claim and cherish for all time. We can join.” He didn’t give her time to negate his comments. She wasn’t sure she could talk if she wanted to. Being fully immersed in M’ike’s mind made her dizzy. The whirlwind of impressions and thoughts focused on her. She could feel the demanding needs of his body as if it were her own. The depth of his desire for her overpowered everything. Claiming her mouth in a heated kiss, he pulled back to roll her onto her stomach. She sucked in a gasp of alarm, knowing what he was about to do. He wouldn’t fit. As he positioned her on her knees, he moved behind her to set the engorged and very sensitive head of his cock at her entrance. She knew it was sensitive because she shared his mind. Shared his thoughts and feelings. As he pushed against her, a moment of fear was immediately calmed by his mental caress. His hold on the part of her brain that would pull away was absolute. Her muscles eased, relaxing enough to let him slide slowly into her body. In. Full. So full. Tight. Heaven. She didn’t know if the thoughts were hers or his. But she was glad he’d made it. His cock stretched her, strained the tissues and filled her to overflowing. It didn’t hurt. In fact the feeling was so pleasurable, so right. So much of everything, she could barely suck in air. Then he started to move. He worked his hips, drawing back until she cried out in dismay, not wanting him to leave her. Pushed forward until she felt the sliding stroke of his schlong against the swollen folds of her clit. “Oh, God!” Lowering his mouth to her ear, he whispered one word. “Mine!” Then he moved.
182
Passionflower
Once. Twice. After hours of sexual dissatisfaction, the third time was enough to send her screaming through an unbelievably intense orgasm. “I’ve allowed the release your body craved so much. Now prepare yourself to reach new heights as I find my happy place between your thighs.” She knew he meant paradise or something close, and that was the last coherent thought she managed. Instead she spent the next half-hour clawing and fighting her way to completion. Over and over again. Trying to hold on to some semblance of herself, knowing the only thing that kept her sane was M’ike’s mind wrapped firmly around her own. “This was a fastie!” he cried as the final explosion overtook them both and he relaxed his mental hold. Allowed her body and mind to shut down. When she regained consciousness, she stretched and purred in satisfaction. That was a quickie? The mind boggled. Before opening her eyes, she contemplated a future of world-altering passion. Oh, yeah! Her erotic haze was marred by remembered comments M’ike had made about pods. Without opening her eyes, she knew he was awake. “What did you mean when you said I would have pods of your children?” She felt his unease—watched with internal eyes as he built a brick wall around his thoughts, and instinctively followed his example with her own. “On Lah’cee’Vus we live in water. You will give birth in water. When you become pregnant, the babies inside you will be cradled in a long sack.” She interrupted him. “How many babies are we talking about?” “From five to fifteen.” Shit! I had to ask. NanCee struggled to keep still, to keep from leaping up and making a mad dash. There was nowhere to run. “After three months, your body will pass this sack into the water, my hands will lovingly receive the pod and attach it to a special shelter where it will remain for another three months. I will guard it from our enemies and other predators with my life.” Careful to reinforce the brick fortress in her mind, she started thinking Hell, no! The sex wasn’t worth it. Not even close. Fifteen children at a time and she knew he’d want her to get pregnant more than once. He’d said so. Surly no man could be worth long sacks coming out of her body. Living in water. Enemies. Predators. She was sooo out of here. But how? “You are too quiet, M’ala, and have blocked me from your thoughts.”
183
Ravyn Wilde
Schooling her expression, Nancy finally opened her eyes to gaze into the turquoise pools looking down at her with such seriousness. She forced the muscles of her face into a carefree smile. Unable to stop herself from reaching up to run her fingers over the furrows in his forehead. “You did it first. Blocked me. Anyway, I’m just following where you lead.” Quickly she broke eye contact, dropped her hand and glanced around in desperation for something to change the subject. She wouldn’t focus on how much she wanted to run her fingers in that hair, or change his serious expression to a smile. Hello! Pods are not going to be coming out of this body. “Hey! We aren’t in the lab anymore. This is your room, isn’t it? The room you first brought me to.” She pushed her hands against his chest, wanting to sit up and look around. Behind a forced curiosity, she hid her intent to see if the window still showed Earth. It did. Big sigh of relief there. Now. How am I going to get home and away from the schlong that will be releasing M’ike’s seeds of life any day now? She convinced him to take her outside his room and show her the rest of the space ship. Made appropriate noises about all the shiny metal and doohickeys. Without seeing anything. “How did you manage to hide such a large ship when you were on Earth?” She turned fake, batty eyelashes on him. Projecting thoughts that he was so big and strong and smart. Thinking mental manipulation was surely the same no matter what planet you lived on. M’ike grinned at her and shrugged. Flexed his pectoral muscles while she did a mental eye roll. He lifted his arm up and pressed a button on the nearby wall. Behind the sliding door was a very small bubblecraft. “It’s an airship. It is invisible to your Earth radar and can be hidden from sight with a voice command.” “Oooh! How fun. Do you think you can show me how to drive it someday? I would love to take a spin in it when I’m conscious.” She reached over to run her hand up and down his chest. Twirling little circles over his nipples, she looked up and gazed soulfully into his eyes. Gag! Surely she was overdoing it. But it didn’t seem so. Quickly informing her that the ship was voice activated, easy enough even a Na’alan slime creature could run one, he scooped her into his arms and practically ran back to his room. For more sex. This time he was intent on adding the training to breach her virgin asshole, preparing her for the time when she would take his schlong into her body so his seed could… Oh my. Over and over again Nancy told herself it didn’t matter how good the sex was. How much she really liked M’ike and wished she could spend the rest of her life with him. He came with too much baggage. Multiple ex-wives from hell and adult stepchildren would be a piece of cake compared to his pod luggage. Gawk! She was even starting to think like him.
184
Passionflower
She looked back at M’ike passed out from their last sexual marathon. His uncovered body would be engraved forever in her memory. Sticking her head into the hall, she made sure Za’ne wasn’t lurking outside the room. No sight of him. It didn’t take her long to settle into the airship. She took a moment to decide what to say and then quietly issued a command, “Take me to Earth.” The sudden swoop as the craft left the spaceship scared the crap out of her. She closed her eyes at the flash of dark space and twinkling stars. It’s the best roller coaster ride of my life, she thought as she absently wiped the tears from her eyes. I’m just tired. Almost a full week after her escape from M’ike, Nancy had to physically restrain herself from running to where she’d hidden the bubblecraft and telling it to find him. Which was stupid. M’ike was probably several solar systems away from Earth by now. And she didn’t want him. Did she? Her body did. It burned and wept and pleaded for him. Nothing worked to ease her discomfort. Her vibrator was way too small now, and her hand fell asleep before she could even get close to relief. Worse. She kept remembering little moments. Like when he wiped her tears away, worried she was too cold or told her she needed to eat more to keep her strength and body size up. Too late she realized those actions told her M’ike cared about more than just the sex and a convenient brood mare. He’d offered his love. She’d felt that when their minds had merged. Wanted to share his family with her. Instead of being a part of something, she was once again alone. Unable to tolerate clothing, she stood naked on her back porch looking up at the stars. Ignoring the tears spilling down her cheeks, she silently called to him. She needed him, needed his arms wrapped around her so badly she felt like stripping layers of skin off. She’d left him. Afraid of having multiple babies born in a pod and living in a world that wasn’t hers. She’d been a coward. “I would never let you leave, na’a. It has just taken a few days to find you. And you are not a coward.” M’ike! Her heart raced as she turned to find him standing just a few feet away from her. He’d called her na’a—my sweet pet. Not M’ala—my mate. She felt intense hurt roll off him. “I just couldn’t…” “I know, NanCee. I feel your confusion and pain as if it is my own.” He shrugged. “Maybe if you saw my world. Lived there and became comfortable with Lah’cee’Vus ways. We could wait for the children. Your childbearing years will last centuries. Whatever it takes to make you happy. I love you.”
185
Ravyn Wilde
Centuries? Nancy chose to ignore that one. “You’d wait to have children? What if I go to your planet and can’t handle the changes?” “You are my M’ala. Here, or on my planet. If you find you cannot live on Lah’cee’Vus I would need to return to the water every few months, but I am willing to work it out. We just need to take a big supply of Earth’s birth control on the voyage.” His voice and his mind still reflected pain. That was better. That’s what she wanted. “M’ike! Oh, M’ike.” She opened her mind to him. Tore down the bricks and let him feel her joy at seeing him again. Let him see how much she missed not only his body, but the man. It was the right thing to do. “You should have shared these headaches with me. I could have helped you deal with the reality and soothed your mind,” he murmured in her ear, enveloping her in his arms. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is you’re here and I no longer care about the rest. Just you. Here. Now. Fuck me.” She brushed her body against his in open invitation. Laughing so hard there were tears running from his eyes, M’ike scooped her up and ran into the house. The rage and sadness burning in his heart disappeared. Thank the gods Za’ne had reminded him that if he traced the shadow of their mental link, he could find her. M’ike had wanted to blast Earth out of its orbit in his hurt and anger over losing NanCee. At her gasp, he realized she’d been sharing his thoughts. Grinning wickedly into her big green eyes, he bent to kiss her before he threw her backwards onto the bed. For the first time he was able to lay his chosen M’ala on her back. Seeing her lovely dark brown hair spread across the white sheets caused his heart to ache. He stripped off his clothes and climbed over her to spread her legs with his thighs. Before he fit his body to the wet heat seeping out of her core, he covered his large cock with the largest condom made on Earth. He’d promised his NanCee they would wait to have children. It was a tight fit, but for now it would have to do. Reaching between their bodies, he used one hand to dip into her cream and used it to lubricate the tight pucker of her ass. Slowly he pressed forward, guiding his two cocks to their places inside her body. Closing his eyes he tried to stem the tears that threatened to run down his face. Paradise. Nirvana. Happy place. Oh, so happy! NanCee raised her body up to meet him, dug her heels into the mattress for leverage and wrapped her arms around his back. Scraping her fingers across his skin she impatiently urged him on. “I’m here. Now move, damn you. Fuck me, I’m going insane!”
186
Passionflower
Lust surged within him as he bent to please her. Shaking with need, he gathered her legs up in his arms and draped her calves over his elbows. Her ripe, wet cunt clenched around him, her small anus pulled at his schlong. With a roar he pulled back, surged forward. Settled into a rhythm, intent on savoring her deliciously snug flesh and hungry body while his hands roamed over the rest of her. Bending his mind around hers, he assured her of his claim, of his love. And kept her mind locked on the pleasure he gave her. He wouldn’t let her slip into unconsciousness. A scant hour later, he arched his buttocks and forced his way deeper into her silken heat while she clamped around him, he could feel the throbbing pulse start in his schlong, heralding the hot release of his seed. Freeing his hold on her mind, he heard NanCee scream and felt her convulse in ecstasy around him as he detonated and blew through the sky with her. Their echoing cries trailed into silence. Waking first, M’ike couldn’t help but smile. His M’ala was still burning with desire for him. The longer they were together, the more her need for his body would grow, until she’d nibble off her right arm to get to him. It meant they were a faultless match. “Gnaw my right arm off and perfect match, you, you alien Neanderthal. Now do it again.” And so he did.
187
About the Author Ravyn Wilde was born in Oregon and has spent several years in New Guinea and Singapore. She is married, has three children and is currently living in Utah. Ravyn is happiest when she has a book in one hand and a drink in the other—preferably sprawled on a beach! Ravyn welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Ravyn Wilde By the Book Let Them Eat Cake Men To Die For anthology Uncontrolled Magic Undying Magic Zylar’s Moons 1: Zylan Captive Zylar’s Moons 2: Selven Refuge Zylar’s Moons 3: Zylan Rebellion
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com