Ellie's Bodyguard

by Lisa Daniels

  “I didn’t want you to stop,” he said truthfully, his eyes fully upon hers. “But I want to do it right.”

  “I don’t really care about all that,” she replied. “I just want to be with you. But by right… you mean like candle-lit dinners and all that? Rose petals scattered across the floor leading toward a scented-oils bathtub?”

  “Something like that,” he said, finding her scrunched-up expression adorable. His resistance was already starting to stumble and fail, and he let out a low curse under his breath. He should be made of stronger material than this. “Definitely something to make you feel as if you’re cared for.”

  “But you make me feel like that all the time,” she whispered, her eyes shining. Again, he felt himself being sucked into her world, into the strength of her presence. Although she only took up a tiny section of the room, somehow she loomed over everything, blasting everything with her beauty. And at this rate, he was going to wax poetic with far too many pretty descriptions in his mind regarding her. He needed to make his escape, while he still could.

  “I’m going to let you out of my room now,” he said, giving her a steady look, placing one hand on the door handle. She stared at him just as steadily back, as if daring him to make the move, daring him to let her out of his sight. She was insisting on testing him, it seemed, even though she had promised to back off. His hand pushed down, and he still maintained eye contact. He couldn’t hear any breaths from Ellie, suggesting that she was holding her breath in anticipation.

  More and more, he found the excuses he had in his head that were pushing her away to be flimsy and of no real substance. Why the hell did he need to do things properly? Nothing about their interactions was proper. Proper relationships didn’t start with the bodyguard and client dynamics, did they? Nothing about this was normal.

  Those thoughts continued to blaze within. With a growl, he let the handle release up again, and seized her in a tight grip. “Damn it,” he muttered. “You’re making this too hard for me to deal with.”

  “Liar,” she whispered. “You want this as badly as I do.”

  Well, he wasn’t quite sure if that was true or not, because he didn’t think anyone could match him in this. “Screw it.”

  All his hard-earned self-respect and resilience went straight out of the window, as he chose instead to give into his basest desires, to the beast raging within him for release, for dominance, for sinking into the pleasures of the flesh.

  I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, the rational part of his brain thought, even as his body took over, and his fingers went for her clothes, plucking them off one by one, determined to reveal the body underneath that he’d spent so much time studiously avoiding. She was, unfortunately, every bit as amazing as he’d imagined in the darkest, most sinful parts of his brain, and more. She was stunning, a living, breathing sculpture, with a few moles and tiny stomach scars from that scrape she took as a teenager like proud banners upon her body.

  Perfect. He couldn’t ask for anything better than this. His heart beat in a frenzy, and his breaths were short and shallow as his hands roamed over that body, as his lips touched hers over and over again, as he felt his own arousal become so acute that it was almost painful. “I want you,” he whispered in her ear, enjoying the way she shivered from his breath, from the closeness of him. “I think I’ve wanted you for a while. I just… tried not to think about it.”

  “Same,” she admitted, even as she tugged off his shirt, exposing his chest to the warm air. “Plus I didn’t think you would let me follow through with it, you know?”

  “Guess we were both avoiding each other on this subject, weren’t we?” Mason grinned a wild grin, before moving his lips against her neck, sucking at the delicate skin there. Ellie tugged at his pants until his erection sprang free, and there were no more physical barriers between them. She seemed to grow shyer at this, and he took the opportunity to take the lead completely, getting her to lie back, ordering her to spread her legs, giving himself a moment to savor the prize in front of him, his for the taking. His to do whatever he wished with.

  He did, however, make sure that he had a condom on first, fishing it from pocket of his jacket, which hung on the wardrobe handle in his room. Ellie seemed rather amused that he was prepared as such, but he always figured it was better to be safe than sorry. He would never know, after all, when the opportunity to act upon his lust manifested itself. Just like now. Her blonde hair fanned out beneath her in a wonderful mess, and her chest heaved with every breath she took. Was that her thunderous heartbeat he heard, or was it simply how loud his was?

  “Purple-colored. Cute,” Ellie said, raising one eyebrow as she regarded Mason’s attempt at protection.

  “Blackberry-flavored, too,” Mason said with a smirk. “They have all sorts. Can never decide which one to settle on.”

  Some of her boldness returned. “I’d like to try that.”

  Mason quirked an eyebrow in return. Ellie positioned herself, knees hitting the floor as Mason drew near, and let her have a taste of his erection for the first time. He didn’t want to spend too long with this, because he knew how sensitive he was. Ellie took him in her mouth, and as he expected, that was entirely too warm and pleasant, and the way she looked up at him as her lips pressed around him was… well—enough to almost make him finish on the spot.

  He stopped her after only a minute, picking her up and dropping her on the bed once more.

  “It doesn’t really taste like blackberry,” Ellie said, before letting out a surprised gasp when Mason drew her core toward him and clamped his lips over the prominent nub that poked out. She was wet, and eager, and squirmed far too much to escape his relentless pleasure, but he held firm, and his fingers dug into her thighs. Words tumbled out of her mouth, a confused rush of them, and he wasn’t sure if she was begging him to stop or keep going, but he felt the tension in her body and the shaking in her thighs, and kept going until she arched up with a breathy cry, stiff and shuddering as her orgasm took over.

  He didn’t think he’d ever get over the sight of a female orgasm—and especially one from someone he never thought he might have. Craving more contact, he slid up her body when she relaxed, and plunged himself in her up to the hilt. She parted easily for him, and her head rocked back in surprise. He covered the gasp from her mouth with a quick kiss, and then a quick tongue dart. He thrust within her as she whimpered encouragement, feeling triumphant, powerful, growling that she was his, that he could do anything he wanted to her. The heat built up in his erection, before exploding in a great assault of pleasure. He remained in her for a moment longer, not wanting to leave, and savored the moment of her sprawled out beneath him, flustered and damp and thoroughly wrecked from the screwing they’d just done. Smiling with pride, he finally extricated himself and plucked off the condom, throwing it in the wastepaper basket.

  Ellie reached out her hands for him and he slipped into her arms, kissing her neck gently, taking in her wonderful scent, now with a hint of vanilla from the perfume she liked. Right now, he must be the luckiest dragon shifter in the world.

  The darker part of his mind knew that this kind of match-up would more or less knock him off the final rung of the dragon caste system, as humans, if he were to have any children with them, would dilute the blood further. Probably he’d end up with dragon shifter children the size of beagles or something. But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to care about all that dragon shifter dynamic. All he wanted to focus on right now was Ellie. On how astonishing she was. On how his heart felt like exploding just even looking at her right now.

  “My limbs feel like Jell-O,” Ellie confessed, and indeed, she did seem to be weak in the limbs, and her body acted unresponsive to his gentle nudgings. He helped steer her into a more comfortable position, and let his right arm drape over her as he settled into the big spoon position.

  “Do you want to sleep?” he asked her. “We can get up and do something if you want. I can grab you a drink or...”

  �
�Sleep sounds good,” Ellie purred, gripping onto his hand. “I want to hold onto this right now. Fall asleep thinking of you.”

  Well—that sent a little shiver through his spine, to think she liked the moment so much, she wanted to hold onto it and visualize it into sleep.

  “I’m okay with that, too,” he whispered into her ear, before promptly nodding off into sleep. Apparently he was a little more exhausted than he originally thought.

  Chapter Eleven – Ellie

  Could anything have been more perfect than this? Ellie didn’t think so. She woke up, and Mason’s arm was still around her. His heat pressed into her back, and his very presence sent a warm glow through her. There was also the slight arousal that came when she remembered just exactly what they did last night. After the first session, they did fall asleep, but not for very long, since they both woke up aroused as heck and decided to do something about it. Several more times. Ellie thought they would just be a one-and-done for the night.

  How mistaken she was. She had seriously underestimated the stamina of a dragon shifter—and herself. She didn’t think she could end up desiring someone more after being with them once. Shouldn’t that feeling have dissipated by now?

  It didn’t. It just continued to strengthen, and she’d accumulated more memories for her desire to clutch onto. Memories of the words he’d spoken, the warmth of his body, and the solidness of his arms. How he had held her down and ordered her, or how he had relinquished all control to her, for her to do as she wished. She loved the way she thought she saw the dragon within smoldering behind his eyes. That warm, toasty sensation in her heart made her almost flick out her legs in excitement, in disbelief of what they had done. The dreams she experienced of Mason—finally something had been made of them. Finally, she found out for herself, confirmed for certain, that the bodyguard liked her.

  More than liked, she thought to herself. His intense stares held something extra within them. Like a silent confession of love, a promise that she meant everything to him.

  Needless to say, she wasn’t exactly used to that kind of feeling. To the notion that someone might love her so unconditionally that she would never even need to question it. To be honest, it scared her so much that the idea of expressing it verbally made her throat lock up. She gently repositioned herself so that she could face Mason. His face, when slumbering, had no lines at all, and the near permanent suspicious frown he liked to wear was gone.

  He sure did look a hell of a lot younger like this. Though she liked him even with those little lines pressing upon his face. She was pretty sure he could suddenly grow a whole lot of pimples on his skin and she’d still like him anyway. Not that she hoped he might erupt out in them or anything.

  It annoyed her on a level just how handsome he was. Would it kill the guy to have more imperfections on his person? Oh, sure, he went on about his dragon form being inferior and all that, but she didn’t see why. Okay, maybe he was tiny compared to some of the dragon shifters she’d seen, but whatever. He was the perfect size for her. He let her go on little rides on his back to explore the skies and get to places faster. He had that little gap in his neck scales that she could hold onto and make sure that she never slipped off. Honestly, those dragons needed to get over the mine is bigger than yours sentiment. Although, of course, if he wasn’t considered so low-caste, then perhaps her father would never have hired him.

  Funny how life turned out sometimes. Not that she wanted to complain about it.

  She wished the moments between her and Mason could last forever. Without worrying about anything, without having to return to the real world, and listen to the whispers of her magic. She wanted to stroke his cheek softly, and see what she could get away with before he woke up. She wanted to kiss his forehead, and slide an inquisitive hand over his bare chest, and possibly, maybe, consider doing something more to encourage morning wood. There were so many things to do. Options blazed through her, causing her lips to tug up at the corners and a certain heaviness to enter each of her inhales and exhales. Unfortunately, things didn’t want to work out according to her hopeful anticipations. No sooner had she kissed Mason and risen from the bedcovers to attend to her morning ritual, than she got bombarded by Talia, who came hurtling into the room with rather wild eyes.

  “Ellie! Ellie! The news… it looks really bad this time. The undead...” She hesitated, noticing the rather compromising position Ellie was in with Mason. “Really? You too?”

  “What?” Ellie said. Mason stirred beside her, his green eyes already alert and attentive, rather than dazed and out of it. He also looked ever so slightly embarrassed.

  Talia squeezed her eyes shut as if she wanted to burn the image out of her mind. “It doesn’t matter. You need to come. Now. Uh—but dress first.”

  “I’m dressing,” Ellie said wryly, as Talia fled from the bedroom. She hurriedly fished for her clothes and placed them on, though Mason was faster with his, and tracked Talia down to the lounge in front of the television, where a Breaking News alert consumed the screen and a rather nervous-looking reporter stood in front of what looked like a place attacked by arson.

  “They estimate the army to be less than half a day’s advance from Lasthearth. There are last-minute evacuations going on, but there are also those who have chosen to stay. Word from other reporters maintains that the Lasthearth police department are gathering their own necromancers to try and combat the advance. More on this later, as we seek to update you with the latest news.” The reporter made a frantic glance behind her, before dashing off from the screen. The camera went black, and the newsreaders in their studio were not impressed with what had happened.

  Mason chose this moment to stumble in, yawning, and Ellie hastily informed him of the news.

  “We’re not moving, are we?” he said, worried. His face looked rumpled and oddly cute, but this wasn’t the time to start with the cute stuff.

  “It doesn’t look like it...” Talia said, even as Rosen Grieves burst into the lounge, frazzled and stressed.

  “Okay, okay, let’s ship you all to the precinct. We’re going to need you all to do your thing. Try and steal some of the summons, and use some of the ones we’ve been provided.”

  “Wait...” Mason raised a tentative finger. “You’ve collected your own bodies? We’re having an undead army versus undead army clash?”

  “Looks like,” Rosen said. “Morgana and Ellie will be of particular use here, because they both have a lot of experience handling spirits in a combative situation. Talia will help attempt to pinch them from the enemy, same with me...”

  “It won’t work if they’ve bound them securely to their own person,” Ellie pointed out, dubious, nervous, and excited all at once.

  “We don’t have a much better plan, since the military in their encampments have been overthrown each time. We’ve even had some of the dragon shifters and werewolves rampaging through the army, but it’s a little hard to take down an army when they just keep reconstructing themselves, even from specks of ash. We have to find the leader, and he’s keeping himself hidden. Or his people hidden. There’s probably a lot of them.”

  Ellie thought so, too. Mason laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into his touch, though she didn’t dare do anything more than that in front of everyone. There was a time and a place, after all. Wordlessly, they finished off whatever they intended to do in the kitchen, gulping down drinks, a quick break toward the bathroom, and then they were off, crammed into Rosen and Rickard Grieves’ cars as they trundled off to the precinct, ready to deal with the chaos waiting to hit their city.

  “Why can’t we all just get along?” Talia slumped in the seat next to Ellie, looking morose, and Ellie gave her a little shrug of the shoulders in response.

  “People are unwilling to do so.” She scowled, because she wished in some ways this wasn’t the case. But people really liked to be awful at times. It was almost like they went out of their way to be terrible.

  She didn’t know what was a
bout to happen. All she knew was that no matter what, she needed to prepare herself in every way possible.

  At least she had Mason by her side, and her father happened to be safe. He might not have exactly won the Best Dad award at any time within her upbringing, but he was still her father, and some part of him did care. Even if he didn’t really know how to express it. He showed it in his eyes. He cared. She knew it from the bottom of her soul.

  “I think the world would be an easier place if there weren’t any magic,” Talia said, staring out of the window of the SUV her sister drove, watching cars and buildings whip by. “I think a lot of the problems in the world seem to originate with magic.”

  “That’s not true,” Ellie said, vehement in her disagreement. “Even if there weren’t any magic, people would find ways to do awful things anyway. They’d… build bigger bombs or something, or make people slaves like they did in the old days.”

  Talia seemed unable to shrug off her dour mood. Ellie couldn’t blame her, because she knew they were facing an awful foe today. One they didn’t know if they could survive, because it was just a few necromancers like them against what sounded like an entire army. Thousands upon thousands. Too many for them to process. What was to stop them from being simply swamped, like they were little more than bowling pins, ready to be knocked over?

  Not much. So Ellie’s nerves felt like little wriggling snakes by the time they had arrived and were subsequently shown to the bodies they were supposed to revive. It was a horrible, solemn sight, to have so many of them covered in white sheets, lined up outside the yard, hidden by a tall, brick wall and iron railings. Several necromancers walked among them, silent and respectful, probing the Other Side with their magic to speak to the spirits. Mason’s hand tightened on Ellie’s shoulder.

  “Do you think you have a chance?” he whispered to her, and his voice stirred all sorts of pleasant memories. Ones that she was reluctant to part from, to lose. Not when she could be alive for so much longer.