He speared into me.
I convulsed, back arching, crying out as I impossibly climaxed instantly. The blood pooled in my groin pounded back into my circulation, rocketing to my head and back again. My muscles gripped him and he thrust in and out of me, face close to mine, a rictus of agonized delight. He stared into me, seeming to see into the depths of my darkest heart. And drinking it in.
His lips brushed mine and I opened my mouth for him, letting him have that too. Giving him everything while my body absorbed the excruciating pleasure of his cock filling me, molten desire filling my veins again, an almost painful anticipation of the crest to come.
The tension rode him, his lean strength like steel cables against my softer flesh. The climax built in him, palpable, driving my own peak to greater heights. He slowed, stroking in and out of me with nearly languid skill. I almost screamed with the frustration, but he let go of his grip on my knees, holding my face again, making me look at him, pressing his thumb against my lower lip.
“Have me, my Gwynn,” he demanded.
“I do,” I answered, drawing his thumb into my mouth in a sucking caress and wrapping my legs around his hips. “Have me.”
With a hoarse cry, he slammed into me, shattering us both, our voices and bodies winding together like the coiling lines on his body and mine.
* * *
I might have passed out briefly. No surprise there, given that the blood supply to my brain had been entirely co-opted for other purposes. I’d heard of la petite mort, the little death brought on by powerful orgasms, but had never experienced one.
Of course it had to be Rogue who brought me to it.
Still buried in me, he breathed out a laugh and lifted his head, nipping my chin. “And thus her mind starts up again, from blackness to sparkling life. The little death, indeed.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but he flexed his hips, sliding his hardening cock through my overstimulated vulva and roughing against my clit. My eyes might have rolled back in my head as the renewed pleasure swamped me. Rogue’s head dipped as he bent to take my nipple in his mouth, hands sliding down to cup my ass in a relentless grip, holding me still while he moved in me, breathing on the recently banked coals so I leaped into flame.
“Please don’t tell me your inhuman abilities include being able to go all night.” The thought scalded me on a number of levels.
“All right.” He released my nipple to speak, but swirled his tongue around the peak. “I won’t tell you that. But I do feel that there’s been a certain amount of expectation built up—I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
“I don’t think I can do this again.” I barely had enough breath to speak.
He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at me. “I think that’s a lie.”
“I mean,” I managed, “I maybe can physiologically, but—oooh!” My words ended in a squeak when he bit my nipple. Not hard, but enough to electrify my nervous system, vaulting me up to the next level of arousal.
“No thinking,” he instructed, kneeling up in the circle of my thighs, cock hard inside me. “I have an experiment to perform.”
I groaned and dropped my head back, unable to think even if I’d wanted to. His long fingers stroked my open labia, which was slick and still engorged, unbearably sensitive after two powerful orgasms. I trembled as he pushed back the hood over my clit, studying it for a long moment. It seemed possible I could come eventually, just from the tension. His cock lying still inside me drove me into a near frenzy and I rocked my hips, trying to work up enough friction to break the impasse, twisting my wrists in the grip of the silk ribbons.
“Be still,” he directed in that instructor’s voice, “or I shall have to tie you down entirely.”
I sobbed a little but did my best to hold still while he explored my responses, testing which touch most affected me. Holding my labia wide with one hand, he played with my exposed clit with the other, backing off when the touch was too intense, moving back in when I managed to still the frenzied shuddering of my body. When he found exactly the right rhythm and location, he continued, stroking my clitoris with intent determination, slowly driving me to the brink, his eyes glowing a demonic blue.
“Now what would my Gwynn say?” he mused. “My hypothesis is that you can do this again. Over and over. I theorize that even you will stop thinking. What say you?”
I glared at him, hovering on the edge of another climax, yet suspended there, exactly where he wanted me. “I say you can’t have two hypotheses.”
He laughed, low and sinister. “Can’t I? I think I can have whatever I want.”
With that he began to move inside me, slow, sliding strokes to match the tormenting caresses on my clit. I came apart, mentally, emotionally, unable to assemble the least coherent thought. My thigh muscles tightening, my heels pressing into Rogue’s back, desperate. Panting like an animal and making wild keening noises.
Without warning, the orgasm took me over, screaming through me, an irresistible force that flung me into the burning kaleidoscope of the stars above and dropped me, bodiless and without form.
I came back to myself in the same position, Rogue still kneeling between my thighs, cock hard and throbbing inside my quivering vaginal walls. Thankfully, he’d left my clit alone while I recovered.
“I win the hypothesis game,” he said with a deeply sensual smile. “Even now your mind is an enticing blur of pleasure.” He thumbed my clit and I spasmed.
“Oh no.” I gasped for air.
“Oh yes,” he coaxed, pushing my knees over his shoulders and moving up, so he could kiss me, his tongue running along my swollen lips, his hair falling like a silken cape around us. “I’ve starved for you, delicious Gwynn, and now I am gorging. Again. Deep, like this.”
He braced his hands on either side of my head, the position lifting my hips nearly vertical, burying his long cock deeper in me than I thought possible. I thrashed my head from side to side, unable to bear the intensity of the pressure.
“Yes.” His eyes flared, as if lit from within. “Take all of me, my Gwynn. Now and forever.”
It only took a few thrusts, the depth of the penetration almost agonizing in its intensity. I screamed when I came, while Rogue emptied himself inside me, his body rigid with the climax, his head thrown back, a picture of unholy delight.
* * *
This time—thank any gods who will listen—he withdrew from my depleted body, falling onto his back beside me. Both exhausted and brilliantly alive and awake, I tested the magic and bade the ribbons to let go. Breathed a sigh of relief when they did and I lowered my bloodless arms.
Rogue rolled his head on the pillow and gave me a long, lambent look. “As promised,” he whispered.
I gazed at him, wishing I could run my fingers over his skin. Far from sating my craving for him, actually having him—over and over—only sharpened the need. I turned on my side and he moved his arm, nudging me closer so I pillowed my head on his chest, my cheek resting on the midnight lines patterned there, inhaling his scent. With delicate care, I traced one with the tip of a claw, following its winding path, enjoying Rogue’s shivering response.
“Will you prick me with your claws then, ferocious Gwynn?” His voice sounded slumberous, sated.
“What will I do if I can’t get rid of them?” I said against his velvet skin.
He stroked my hair. “There is always a way. Besides, you were the one to show me the advantages of having the Dog. That magic will be exceedingly useful in the days to come.”
“I wonder why that circumvents Titania’s grip.”
“What made you suggest it to me? Surely you had a reason to think it, knowing you.”
I traced another line, that forked over his abdomen—like walking a meditation maze—and thought back to the moment when the inspiration had hit me to tell Rogue to shift into the Dog, which was more like setting it free from his flesh than anything, to shake Titania’s grip on his mind. “Because the Dog can cross the Veil and Titania cannot
. Therefore, the Dog possesses an ability that transcends her. Also the Dog isn’t bound by vows and agreements—thus it logically follows that the Dog is beyond her reach.”
“Only to your mind.” He sounded admiring, which I secretly loved.
“Do you think my cat will be the same way?”
“It logically follows,” he replied, making me laugh. “We can experiment some more.”
My face flushed hot at the intimate reminder of how he’d played with me. Learning me. His cock rose too. Apparently ever ready. I ran a light claw toward it and his fingers circled my wrist like steel cable.
“Worried?” I teased him, instantly breathless from the surge of desire the feel of him restraining my wrist sent through me.
“While it would grow back, I’d prefer not to lose another moment using it on you,” he returned. “Speaking of which...” Before I knew it, he’d neatly flipped me on my back and settled between my thighs, pinning my wrists to the bed on either side of my head.
“I thought we were done.” Then I gasped when he slid into me, smooth as silk and strong as iron.
“Never,” he averred and moved, slow and sweet, dropping light kisses on my face, like a warm rain.
The pleasure ran through me with the same golden gentleness, filling and tantalizing, like devouring fresh-baked bread. This time, when I came, instead of crying out, I simply sighed out his name, saturated with the exquisite satiation.
Rogue placed his last kiss in the dimple below my lower lip, pressing his mouth there. Once more, he whispered, “Never.”
Releasing my wrists, he relaxed over me, our bodies still entwined. I wanted to run my fingers down his back.
“We’ll work on it today,” he said, into my hair, clearly hearing my thought.
“Today? Is it already past midnight?”
“Yes. Dawn approaches.”
I doused the candles, so the night sky bloomed all around us. “It looks dark to me still—how do you know?”
“Open your mind and I’ll show you.”
As if it wasn’t already open to him, in every way, with him still buried inside me. I felt pliant and permeable to him. With languid ease, he took my mental hand and directed my senses to another plane. The life energies of all the fae around looked like fireflies. Rogue nudged me to see the web between them, filaments of light, some like cables, others bare spider-silk wisps.
The hive mind.
I’d always known it had to be there—judging by the way the fae all seemed to know the same things—but I hadn’t known where to look for it. Pointing me in a slightly different direction, Rogue showed me how the fibers also extended to the trees, the earth—and the sun, stars and moon. All interconnected in a way that filled me with awe.
Rogue touched a filament to the sun, like plucking the string of a harp, and the knowledge filled my head too. Perhaps an hour from rising.
“You see?” Rogue’s voice pulled me back from it.
“Yes.” Extraordinary.
“Do you want to sleep?” he asked, levering up and brushing a lock of hair from my face.
“I should be exhausted, but I feel wide-awake. Not sure why.”
He gave me that wicked smile of his. “I told you that lovemaking with me would be restorative.”
“Yes, but I thought that was just another of your pickup lines.”
“How cruelly my lady has judged me.”
“You seem to have survived the blow well enough.”
“You have no idea, my Gwynn.” He sobered, then pushed off the mood. “What does my lady will then? Food? A bath?” He flexed his hips, stroking inside me. “Me?”
I pushed at his shoulder with the heel of my hand. “Remember I’m mortal. And a bath sounds amazing.”
“I should have known.” He shook his head, sighing dramatically.
“Let me up.” I wriggled. “Now that a bath has been offered, I can’t stand to be without another minute.”
“Not if you keep moving in that distracting fashion,” he replied in an arch tone, but he uncoiled in his loose-limbed way and strode naked across the room. Mesmerized by his grace and the enticing play of his ass as he walked, I watched him go, somewhat befuddled when he returned wearing a black robe and carrying a deep green garment.
“What’s that?”
“My people call it a robe.” He held it open for me, borrowing one of my snarky lines too. “Unless you’d prefer to parade around the castle naked, which would be your prerogative as its new mistress.”
“As a mere houseguest, I’ll go for the robe.” I folded the curved side of the claws into my palms, which worked well enough to slide my arms through the sleeves. Rogue lifted my hair from under the collar, spreading it over my shoulders and leaning in to press a kiss just under my ear.
“That remains to be decided,” he reminded me, in a silky tone that nevertheless carried all the warning I needed regarding his determination on the subject.
He came around in front of me, fastening the buttons and tying the sash. All very thoughtful of him—but this being unable to do things for myself would wear thin soon. The robe, however, draped over me, plush and thick, so perfectly fitted, it seemed to have been made for me. As it likely was. The collar stood high around my neck then dropped dramatically open to reveal the upper curves of my breasts. The buttons and sash snugged it around my waist, where it then fell into a luscious full skirt of velvet folds.
“You look ravishing, Gwynn.”
“Thank you.” I found myself not quite able to handle this level of romance and tender care from him. It eroded the last shattered remnants of my will. Call me perverse, but I felt on more solid ground with him when we were at odds. I couldn’t help looking for the tricks and the loopholes.
“So suspicious.” Rogue ran a finger down my cheek and under my chin, lifting it a bit. He didn’t kiss me though. Instead searched my face for something. “Come with me. We’ll go the back way.”
“We’re going somewhere?” Duh. He’d said “parade around the castle.” Apparently phenomenal sex had the additional effect of addling my brain. Note to self.
He led me through another arched door, inset down below the wall of the dome, into a sort of vertical tube. We stepped into it, he pulled me close and told me to brace myself. The circular platform we stood on sank down, increasing speed in a controlled way. “Don’t be alarmed. It’s just an—”
“Elevator? You have a freaking magic elevator?”
He cocked his head at me, not quite hearing the word right. “Your world has this magic?”
If I could have patted him on the cheek, I would have. I settled for a condescending tone. “Honey, we have this technology and much more.”
With a low growl, he squeezed my bottom and pressed me close. “You didn’t have me.”
This was true.
Before I could come up with a suitable answer—okay, I was a little distracted—the platform halted in a shadowy chamber with a set of stairs leading down. A shiver of recognition trilled across my skin, raising the tiny hairs. Tucking my arm through his, Rogue led me down into a torchlit bathing chamber.
The same one I’d dreamed of so many times.
Chapter Six
In Which Rogue Gives Me a List
For the fae, the concept of “true love” seems to be an almost magical condition—more like a trophy or yet another commodity to be traded upon. The way they speak of it seems to have nothing to do with what I think of as love.
~Big Book of Fairyland, “True Love”
The rounded warm stones of the torchlit chamber fit against the arches of my bare feet in exactly the same way as in my dreams. Though the room was fairly narrow, the ceiling and far wall disappeared into utter lightlessness. So much so that the depthless shadows created an illusion of infinite distance. A few paces away, water edged still as glass against the stones, transparent at the shallow layer, growing black and opaque as ink in the depths. In the dreams, I’d always had the feeling that it went on fore
ver. The reality did nothing to disrupt that impression. The room felt less like a chamber than a gateway.
“Wait,” I said, as Rogue unbuttoned my robe.
“Yes, my Gwynn?” His face held only polite inquiry, but a glitter lingered in his gaze. Oh yeah, he knew I’d recognize it.
“Don’t play coy, Rogue. You know I’ve dreamed of this place. More than once.” And before I’d ever come to Faerie too. Sometimes the implications of the cross-consciousness, cross-worlds events made my mind reel.
“And you know that there is less boundary between dreams and reality than you’d like to think,” he responded, dropping his gaze and resuming the unbuttoning.
“Why here? Was it always you and not just the Black Dog?”
For the Dog had been in the dreams too. Always watching. Leaving me feeling hunted.
Rogue slid the robe off my shoulders, letting it puddle at my feet, running his palms over my bare arms and settling them on my hips. “Not only me, my Gwynn. You also. You reached for me too.”
Had I? I had been yearning for more, yes—but I hadn’t known what. Just a formless longing, a rising dissatisfaction that suddenly burst and hurled me into an unlikely cascade of events that brought me to Faerie. “I didn’t know you to reach for you.”
He doffed his own robe and, fingers encircling my wrist, tugged me toward the water. It lapped, warm, enticing and soothing around my ankles. “Well, humans can be ignorant,” he allowed.
“Careful, or I’ll claw you again.”
“Will you?” With inhuman speed, he captured my other wrist and held them both in a grip of steel behind my back, arching my naked body against his. “Perhaps I shall have to appease my angry lady.” His clever mouth closed on one of the lily earrings and tugged, sending sparks into my system. He nudged it aside and found the pulse point beneath my ear, sucked lightly, then trailed down my throat.
I wriggled, which only caused my tightened nipples to brush against his leanly muscled chest. I kind of hated what it did to me, when he took me over like this. But not as much as I once had.
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