His lips pressed against hers again, deepening the kiss. His tongue caressed, flicking and laving like a teasing wave. Her body throbbed with need, for him to explore more than just her mouth. She ran her hands down the slick coolness of his skin. His energy flowed into her body like an ocean lapping at the shore. She moaned and squirmed under the exquisite weight of his body.
Lon chuckled against her mouth and shifted his weight so he lay beside her. His hand slowly traveled from her shoulder to waist, skimming her breast, but his gaze remained fixated on her chest. He licked his lips, clutched her waist and leaned in to give her another dizzying kiss.
****
She was killing him. Lon would never last if she kept moaning and rubbing against him. He wanted to show her how much he loved her with his body, but if things kept going this way, he might spend himself before they truly started. His erection throbbed with need, demanding he take her right away. The rough material of his jeans chaffed against his sensitive skin, but he didn’t care. All he saw and felt was Willa.
He reached up to cradle her face again, gripping her hair to bring her in for another kiss. She squeaked and he softened the pressure. He needed to be gentle. George had almost broken this beautiful woman.
Lon would never treat her that way. Ever.
****
Lon would be the death of her. His fingers dug into her side. His kiss hardened with a lashing tongue and scraping teeth. She answered with equal ferocity. Then, he pulled back, and delivered fluttering butterfly kisses across her face as he eased his grip into a soft caress.
Fierce and firm, then soft and gentle, like he couldn’t decide whether to ravage her or treat her like a porcelain doll. She wanted him to take her. For goodness sake, take her!
“More!” she demanded.
His hand drifted from her face and this time, he didn’t pass her breasts. He cupped the weight of one and trailed kisses down her neck until his mouth reached the other. Warm and wet through her shirt, her nerve endings sang as his lips clamped around her nipple.
Not enough. She wanted more. He sucked her perky nipple through her thin shirt and bra, but she wanted him to taste the salt of her skin, not the cotton of her clothing. With a groan, he reached down and yanked at her shirt, no longer capable of the slow movements needed for seduction. She sat up and helped him slip the garment over her head. He threw it in the corner and refocused. She flicked off her bra and tossed it alongside her shirt.
His pale alabaster skin shone under the flat bedroom lights, the silver, silver and blue of his aura swirled around like a drug haze and twined around her. He ran his hand down the center of her body and watched as she shuddered.
She arched her back when his devilish mouth moved away from her breast and travelled farther down. Goosebumps pebbled where he left her skin wet and exposed. Lon stirred a storm within her far more potent than the gale-force winds gusting into the room. The elements flowed around them, cocooning them in their primal embrace.
She pushed him back and sat up to tug at his shirt. He whipped it off in one motion. She ran her hands up his chiseled abs, then her tongue. He tasted of the sea. He shuddered and his head dipped back as she explored the dips and valleys of his muscles. When her fingers gripped the waist of his jeans to pull them down, his hands quickly engulfed her own and pried them away. “You’ll end this too soon, love.”
“I can’t wait any longer.” Her voice sounded deep and husky to her ears, as if some inner animal spoke for her. She lay back and unclasped her jeans in open invitation. Lon nodded and knelt between her legs. The thunderclouds of his eyes swirled and danced with the raging storm outside. His muscles tensed and body braced with anticipation.
She quickly shimmied out of her jeans and thong and he helped tug them off her legs before settling between her thighs. He smoothed his hand along the flat of her stomach before dipping down between her legs. She gasped. Lon leaned forward and captured her mouth with his and his energy flowed through her, warm and circular, like the roll of waves crashing into the rocks again, and again. She could drown in his essence and not care.
His fingers delved inside, where she waited for the rest of him. With each plunge of his digits, the inferno inside of her burned with need. “Please,” she whimpered. She couldn’t wait anymore.
****
Dammit. He wasn’t going to make it. He needed to be inside her. Now. Hot and wet, she was ready, but he’d planned to take his time, taste her, relish each twitch, shudder and moan. He’d already drunk from her mouth and skin and his body throbbed with a sweet agony.
Willa whispered, “More.”
He nearly lost control. He unzipped his jeans and without any underwear, his heavy erection sprang out. He captured Willa’s wide-eyed gaze, and she finally drew her attention away from his cock. Those fierce amber eyes met his and her gold and purple aura surrounded him with warmth and love.
“No regrets?” he asked, still not believing his good fortune. “No looking back?”
“None.” She smiled and reached down to grip his butt and guide him to her slick entrance. First the head, then the shaft, until he slowly pushed all the way in and buried himself in her tight warmth.
Willa sighed and relaxed under his body, opening her legs wider for him as he started to move; in and out; softer, then harder; slower, then faster; until they found a rhythm that belonged only to them.
The pressure built and built. The force of their mutual power flowed back and forth between them, in and out, like the ebb and flow of the tide. As he reached climax, she approached her own. They were in this together. He looked down at the beautiful woman beneath him, panting, gasping and moaning with each thrust of his hips, and smiled.
His.
For now and always.
****
She looked up and met the fierce stormy gaze. Her body burned with each movement, singing to Lon as if only he could hear. Her climax spiralled quickly up with Lon’s. The gray of his irises swirled and danced with intensity. He was so beautiful.
Hers.
For now and always.
****
The thunder outside rumbled as they came together and shouted into the stormy night. Bands of on-shore wind and pellets of rain howled into the room through the open window, drenching their entangled bodies. The lovers clung to each other, existing in their own world, the lightning flashing to illuminate the sheen of their skin.
The bond complete, they were now one.
Epilogue
The smell of cooked lobster, melted butter, and garlic drifted through the soft on-shore breeze as the heat of the summer’s day bore down on Willa’s covered head. She strolled with Lon, hand in hand through the busy street vendors lining Main Street. Her bond with Lon allowed her to see auras, and she relished watching the vibrant colours of her neighbours and the tourists dance around.
They’d spent the day sampling food at the August Lobster Crawl, the annual community event that celebrated all things crustacean. With bellies full of seafood delicacies, they ambled to the bookstore they now ran together.
Willa pressed her spare hand to her over-stuffed stomach. “I’m so full. You might have to carry me the rest of the distance.”
Lon smiled and bent to kiss her temple. “I’m sure we can think of ways to work off all this food. Which dish was your favorite?”
“The spicy one with the rice. Aroz a la tumbler, or whatever.”
Lon laughed and shook his head.
“What?”
“Arroz a la tumbada,” he prattled off in perfect Spanish.
“Exactly how many languages do you speak?”
“All the ones spoken on the sea.” He squeezed her hand with his own and they continued down the boardwalk. A gust of ocean air breezed across Willa’s face and blew her hair in all directions. She leaned into Lon and watched the soft rolling sea. Holding hands never carried this much joy for Willa, until now.
“So I don’t have to splash around in the ocean?” she asked. Lon
had already told her about their bond and life with his brethren, but every time she saw the ocean, she felt like she’d missed something. But maybe, just maybe, good things really did come true.
“No.” Lon laughed. “Nothing like that. It’s me who changed, remember? Instead of being a sprite, I’ll stay human and will only take my incorporeal form to join my brothers during storms.”
She saw them now; thin as reeds; wisp-like as smoke; playful as leaves in a light breeze; a streak of blue, silver and white, vaguely human in miniature form, but bending, elongating and curling with each roll and wave of the ocean. They existed in simplicity without malice, entirely filled with joy.
Lon gave that up for her.
“Will you miss them?” she asked. “Your brothers?”
He nodded. “Yes, but I would’ve missed you more. Losing you wasn’t an option.”
She followed his gaze to the ocean and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back and they continued down the street to the booktique.
“You don’t mind?” Lon asked.
“Mind?” Her brows furrowed together. “The bond?”
He nodded.
“Absolutely not. I love you.”
“You don’t feel like I trapped you? Or how did you say it earlier? Enthrall you with some crazy supernatural voodoo?” His lips twitched.
“No, and don’t you dare think otherwise.”
“Good,” he said. “Good.”
How could he even think it? After they’d formed the bond on that stormy night, and Lon’s energy returned, He’d taken his time with her, tasting her, loving her, holding her. She’d moaned, begged, and screamed his name, and had almost every night since then. But her contentment didn’t stop at the physical connection. For the first time in her life, Willa felt whole and loved. Lewiston became a distant memory. Lon was her home now.
They reached the bookstore, and Lon hesitated at the door. “There’s something else I’ve wanted to tell you,” Lon said. “Something the wind sprites said to me.”
“Oh?” Willa asked, looking up as she unlocked the front door.
“They told me the dryads liked you…and your mother.”
Willa’s brows pinched together. “My mother? I don’t think my mom ever visited Aunt Jenny.” And who in their right mind would like that crazy woman?
They walked inside and Lon closed the door before swooping her up in a bear hug. “I’ve been thinking about it. That’s why I didn’t mention it before. What if…”
“What if?” Willa prompted. She tried to push away to see his face, but Lon’s arms tightened and she melted into his warmth.
“What if your mother isn’t your mother? I’ve been thinking about it since the wind sprites spoke to me. If you change your hair and eye colour, you’re a younger replica of Jenny. Even your auras are the same—purple and gold, with a little twinkle.”
Willa sighed. “As much as I’d love that to be true, my aunt and I are blood related. Of course there are similarities between us.”
“That explain the wind sprites comment?”
“Well, no.”
“That explain why your ‘mother’ is so mean and unloving toward you?”
“Aunt Jenny would’ve been fifteen if she’d had me. Besides, my whole family remembers the year they spent abroad when my mom was pregnant and had me. My sisters were old enough to recall my birth. They would’ve relished telling me the truth to hurt me at some point during my childhood.”
“I thought about that, too. Gold auras…gold auras are sometimes associated with witches, although it’s not exclusively their colour. I think you have a witch in the family that hid the teenage pregnancy. From everyone. It would explain your mom’s natural hatred toward you and Jenny’s reluctance to speak of you. A mother knows her own.”
Sprites, witches…what next? Willa opened her mouth to reply when a knock on the door interrupted her. Lon released her and they both turned toward the front entrance. As the door swung open, Lon took a step forward and placed his body slightly in front of hers.
A woman stood in the doorway. Short and petite with a lean body that defied her age of forty-five, the woman’s thick blonde hair blew forward with the gust of ocean air and covered her flushed, radiant skin and piercing blue eyes. Gold and purple swirled around her like a cape, reaching forward to tangle with her own. It sparkled as if containing millions of diamond dust particles. Willa couldn’t see her own aura, only sense it, but if it looked anything like this, no wonder Lon kept staring at her and smiling.
With one hand resting on the handle of a purple flowered carry-on case, Aunt Jenny beamed at Willa.
Answers could wait. Her aunt was home! Willa squealed like a sprite and stepped around Lon to embrace her aunt.
And stopped.
A dark silhouette moved in behind Jenny and placed a large protective hand on her hip. The air sucked out of the room, taking all the sound with it. Willa tensed at the large foreboding figure in front of her.
Aunt Jenny had come home, all right. And she wasn’t alone.
A word about the author...
Born and raised on the Haida Gwaii, off the West Coast of Canada, J.C. McKenzie grew up in a pristine wilderness that inspired her to dream. She writes Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance.
You can visit her website at:
www.jcmckenzie.ca
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
The Shucker's Booktique Page 9