Accidentally...Evil? (Accidentally Yours)

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Accidentally...Evil? (Accidentally Yours) Page 5

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  She swallowed. “Teach them? You-you mean actually show them how to…?”

  He reached for her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. The roughness of his whiskers and the soft warmth of his lips speared right through her central nervous system.

  “Oh yes,” he whispered. “I show them how to please a woman, specifically, their woman. Every female is different.”

  Her insides clenched. “You-you know what every woman wants?”

  He stepped in and pressed his tall, powerful frame against her. “Yes. It is a gift.” He leaned in slowly and placed his lips to her ear. “I merely look at a female, and I know.” He brushed his lips down the length of her neck.

  “Wha-wha-what is it that I wa-wa-want?” Brain? Are you there? Please don’t abandon me now.

  His hot breath tickled the curve of her neck.

  Oooh. Yes. She wanted that. How did he know?

  He placed a soft, sucking kiss over the same spot and then pulled her against the hardness between his legs.

  Yesss. That too. Horsefeathers… he’s good.

  He then slanted his hot lips possessively over hers, slid his tongue past her teeth, and rhythmically stroked her mouth in time with the rocking of his hips.

  Suddenly, a wild and uninhibited Margaret she never knew existed took over. This Margaret didn’t care about propriety or anything rational. This Margaret panted and clawed and wanted him deeper. This Margaret returned each thrust of his tongue with one of her own and desired only to devour every male inch of his large, insanely hard body.

  With a frantic flurry of hands and kisses, Chaam stripped away her dress and undergarments and backed her into the finely woven hammock. She raised her hand to pull him down with her, but he moved back and drilled her with his turquoise gaze, willing her to stay put.

  Chaam leisurely slid off his white cotton trousers and straightened to his full height. Shoulders broad and straight, he proudly displayed each unbreakable ripple of his abdomen, the swells of his chest, and the sexy, unmistakably masculine patch of black hair surrounding the one object she’d crudely obsessed over since she’d first spotted him toweling off. She’d not seen his manhood then, but now she stared right at the thing. It jutted into the air like a thick saber made of solid flesh.

  She squirmed just a little as the heat between her legs made it abundantly clear that his large, pulsing erection was exactly what she needed to ease the aching tension deep inside.

  Are you kidding? Look at the size of that thing. Do you really think it’s going to feel pleasant?

  Wild Margaret went running for the hills.

  “What’s the matter?” He glanced over one shoulder and then the other. “Is that damned jaguar back?”

  “No, it’s… well, I’ve never…” She scrutinized her body, then his daunting erection.

  “Oh. I see.” He relaxed with a cocky smile. “Not to worry, hammocks have been around for thousands of years. I assure you it is very secure. And,” he paused, “I know what I’m doing.”

  “No. I meant your size is so…” Drat. How should I say it? “You’re large, all right? Really damned large, and I—”

  “I am told this hammock,” he interrupted, “can hold the weight of ten men, not that I wish to see that. Besides,” he leaned over for a kiss, hovering just above her lips, “I know what I’m doing. I am the God of Male Virility. I practically invented sex.”

  Oh potato salad! “I’ve never been with a man,” she blurted.

  A radiant smile, one that displayed almost every pearly white in his gorgeous mouth, leapt across his face. “Neither have I.”

  “Amusing.”

  Seriousness took over and his eyes locked on hers. “I have never been with anyone, either.”

  “A virgin? You?”

  “Yes,” he replied without the faintest hint of embarrassment.

  The thought had never occurred to her, but given what she now knew—gulp, gods were real?—about his kind, well, of course he was a virgin.

  He then lifted his eyebrows in such a way that said, “And I know you want some,” however, his mouth said, “And I assure you, I know exactly what I’m doing. I know exactly what you want.”

  Without breaking his gaze he lay over her, smoothly placing himself between her legs. This simple act of his delicious, warm body pressing intimately against hers was the most sensual thing she’d ever experienced. And the moment his lips touched hers, the moment his rough hand cupped her breast, the moment the tip of his stiff cock prodded her sensitive opening, she understood what it meant to beg with her body.

  Combustion!

  She slid her arms around the sides of his tight, narrow hips and cupped his solid, smooth backside, the one she’d already decided deserved a shrine (or maybe two? or five?) to urge him closer.

  With his strength and sizeable mass, he easily resisted her invitation to plunge inside. “No,” he whispered with a hot breath in her ear, “it will hurt less if I work it in slowly. You will enjoy it much more.”

  But didn’t he say he knew what she wanted? Because if he did, he’d know she was shamelessly begging for every hard inch.

  She pulled his mouth to hers, slid her tongue past those sweet delicious lips, and again raised her hips toward the head of his cock, driving him just a nudge deeper.

  His eyes clamped shut and he groaned.

  “You weren’t listening very well, because this is what I want,” she whispered.

  His eyes flew open, and something animalistic and greedy flickered inside those orbs of deep turquoise.

  Before she could mutter another word, he leaned into her. She cried out as he slid deep inside.

  Although she’d begged him for it, he knew her pain had been sharp. He’d witnessed countless females taken for the first time. Generally he watched from his realm and provided help to the clumsy males who were on course to spill themselves before getting past the threshold, but no amount of spectating could have prepared him for the ecstasy of taking Margaret O’Hare. Being deep inside her tight, slick heat, merging their bodies together, made him feel alive with sinful rapture.

  “Are you all right?” He fought the urge to begin rocking himself deeper, knowing her body was processing the raw, conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure.

  Eyes shut tight, she nodded.

  He brushed her swollen lips with his and released a tiny pulse of his light to help her heal quickly. “Tell me when you want more,” he whispered.

  Within moments her heated mouth returned to his. She pulled back her hips and pushed into him.

  A groan involuntarily escaped his mouth. He’d never imagined…

  The sensual tension immediately began to build with each delicious stroke of friction. Her fingernails dug into his back as she pulled him deeper, working him in and out in a steady rhythm. And just when he believed his pleasure could not escalate another titillating inch, it did. She screamed his name into the night, her body going rigid with her release while her inner muscles contracted, milking him.

  He felt the hot liquid burst from his cock and with it, her name poured from his lips.

  No, he would never let this woman go.

  Chapter 5

  “Have there always been this many stars? And have they always been this bright?” Maggie gazed in wonderment at the cloudless night sky over Chaam’s shoulder while he showered her neck, ear, and shoulder with kisses. She’d never felt so complete, so content, so happy.

  “Thank you for this, Maggie. My precious Maggie,” he whispered repeatedly.

  He’s thanking me? Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined this day, this man, the insanity of the situation. So damned right. Every second of it. She should be thanking him.

  She sighed. “I feel like I’m seeing the world for the very first time.”

  “And what do you see?” he asked.

  Euphoria, love, peace in my heart… “You.” The instant he’d entered her, he was all she saw.

  One moment she had been a
n omnipresent light hovering over the world watching thousands of people. Nowhere. Everywhere. All at once. She felt their desperation, their desolate hearts, their prayers for help. Who knew so much silent suffering filled the world? It saddened her deeply because she’d been one of them. But for some, Maggie included, there was a light. There was hope. Chaam.

  And he was right. His gift wasn’t paving a man’s way to sex, but for the union of two souls who were meant to be together but somehow got lost along the way. There had been so many he had helped, millions upon millions, yet Chaam never once spurned them because they’d found something he longed for. Instead, his hope—that his day, too, might come—only grew.

  Maggie’s heart filled with unspeakable pride, knowing such devotion and faith drove the person she’d given herself to.

  Then she witnessed him charging through the jungle. Through his ears, she heard his heavy breaths. Through his eyes, she saw the brilliant emerald greens of the trees and the perfection of the pristine blue sky. Through his heart, she felt his emptiness, his need for true companionship. So much sorrow; she could relate. But the moment Chaam had moved inside her, she knew it was more than a carnal lust being satisfied; they were two souls finding a missing piece. They’d finally have a chance to break free from their heavy pasts because together, they were strong. Together, they could make their own fate. Together, they were in control.

  Yes, she saw everything so clearly now. So, so clearly.

  Life was nothing but a constant flow, the universe breathing in and out. I am part of it. Every mundane action, every thought, every smile or frown shown even to a stranger created a chain of events, like ripples in a pond.

  Fear had once blinded her, but now she knew: She mattered. She mattered. She mattered. Just like Chaam, everything she did mattered. And it filled her with power and purpose.

  “You see me?” He nudged the pendant of her necklace to one side and placed a gentle kiss on the hollow of her neck. “Who am I?”

  “You’re magic. My magic.” She stroked the back of his head. His long hair was soft and magnificent. She could spend an eternity petting it and everything else.

  Chaam lifted his head. “Magic?” He beamed. “Well, that is quite the compliment. I’ve been called many things, but a magician…”

  Still inside her, he gently pushed his hips forward. His erection had not shown the slightest signs of flagging.

  A sharp wave of ecstasy bolted through her, and she gasped. “Oh yes. Magic.”

  Slowly, he rocked his hips. “Let me show you my next trick. I think I know exactly what you want.”

  Several hours later, Maggie’s deliciously sore body was a heap of weak, quivering muscles. Who knew hammocks were so versatile? Sideways, diagonally, on the top or on the bottom, the netting molded to their forms and allowed the night breeze to cool their heated, sweat-covered bodies.

  I will never sleep in a bed again.

  Chaam extracted himself carefully from the hammock, and the campfire, now a murmuring pile of glowing embers, afforded her a glimpse of his glorious backside. Smooth, round, firm. Even the rippling muscles in his back were something to behold. The first chance she got, she would put paint to canvas and capture every inch of him. Those gorgeous toes included. Someone needed to pay the appropriate homage to this specimen of male perfection.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He leaned down and scooped her into his arms. “We are going for a swim. It will revive you.”

  Revive her? Dear sweet God of Male Virility, he wanted more?

  The lake was considerably warmer than the air outside. Like tepid bathwater, really. The two splashed and played and Chaam found himself not wanting to go very long without touching that creamy, soft skin, the feminine curve of her hips, or those perfectly round breasts. And those lips? Two plump little pillows meant for seduction. But of all her sinful gifts, he loved her eyes most. The darkest of browns, almost black. They were wide and bright and the most glorious windows to her glorious soul—a soul of the purest color he’d ever seen.

  Making love to her had been the most amazing experience of his existence. He didn’t know if he felt love or if the gods were capable of such feelings, but attempting to define such emotions with a word would not do. She’d embedded her light inside his soul.

  Waist high in the water, he pulled Maggie into his arms. She shivered.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  “Can you warm me up?”

  With the darkness of night, he could not see her face, but he knew she grinned.

  “I can figure something out.” He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  She laughed and squirmed. “Put me down!”

  He smacked her fleshy backside. “Silence, woman.” He easily climbed from the water and deposited her on the dock.

  “Woman? I’m a lady.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “What!” She giggled and slapped his bare chest. “Well, whose fault is that?”

  “Mine. All mine,” he said. But was she? His, that is? Saints, he’d not thought the situation through. Christ. Maggie had never answered his question. What was she? If not immortal, she would eventually die and leave him.

  Leave. Him.

  He gripped her firmly by the shoulders. “Maggie. You will tell me what you are. No more games.”

  She squirmed. “You’re hurting me. What’s gotten into you?”

  He released her and hissed, “I’m sorry. I often forget my strength. But dammit, woman! Tell me.”

  “I told you, I’m human.” The darkness masked her expression, but fear permeated her voice.

  “Impossible!”

  “Why? Why won’t you believe me?” she argued.

  “Because gods cannot make love to humans.”

  “But I am human! I am. Can’t you look into my eyes or something? I’m not lying.” She tugged him toward the fire. “Put another log on so you can look.”

  “Gods dammit.” He stood firm and ran his hand over his dripping wet hair.

  Maggie rubbed his arm. “What is it? Tell me.”

  Fear. It welled inside him.

  For fuck’s sake. He’d never felt this emotion before. But then again, he’d never had anything to lose.

  “If you are telling the truth, Maggie, then you will die someday.”

  “Oh,” was all she replied.

  He couldn’t lose her. Not now.

  “Maggie, you will come to my world. We will ask the gods to grant you immortality.

  Immortality?

  “I’m… I’m sorry. But did you just say ‘immortality’?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  She could not see his face, but she felt the stark pain in his voice. He was serious. “Is it really possible?”

  “Yes.”

  Live forever? With him? God save her—or is that gods?—she had no idea what to do or say. What would be the repercussion? Did he even love her? She hoped with all her heart that he did because after everything she’d seen and felt, she knew there had been a reason no other man had ever reached her heart; it belonged to Chaam, and it always would.

  “Why? Tell me why,” she said.

  “Maggie, I have waited my entire existence for you. The universe has given me this gift. You are mine, my reward for thousands of years of dedication and loyalty. I’m not about to let you go.”

  That was not what she’d hoped to hear. In fact, he made her sound like a booby prize. Not the naughty kind, but the silly kind.

  “Maggie, I will not take no for an answer.”

  “What will happen to my soul?”

  “Your soul? I-I do not know. I suppose it stays with you.”

  “You’re a god, but you don’t know?”

  “We don’t know everything, Maggie. We simply know more.”

  She needed time to think. It was all too much to take in. And now she knew the truth: there were no decisions, no actions without consequence. Everything mattered.

  “Can I h
ave some time?” she asked.

  Anger radiated from his body. “You may have until sunrise.”

  “Why are you pushing me, Chaam?”

  “If you speak the truth, then you are mortal. Mortals die by the thousands every second. I’m not about to risk anything happening to the one person I cannot live without.”

  A tiny fissure opened in her heart as she thought of him suffering for an eternity. Maybe he didn’t love her. She didn’t know. But he needed her, and she loved him.

  Yes. The situation was pure insanity. One big loco-sombrero.

  She’d met a man in the jungle today who wasn’t really a man. She became his prisoner, then his lover. Now she loved him.

  Insanity.

  And it didn’t matter if he loved her back; she would give her loco-sombrero to ensure he never suffered again.

  “What if the other gods say no?” she asked.

  Her backhanded acceptance sparked a glorious smile on her god’s face. “They will not. Asking permission is customary—an offering to their egos. Once those are satisfied, they will not stand in our way.”

  “Are they like you?”

  He laughed. “Yes and no. We are all unique, although my brothers, Votan and Zac, are physically similar to me when in their human forms, so I will warn you now not to get any ideas.”

  As if she could ever look at another man—errr—deity.

  “I want you. Just you,” she said.

  Chaam kissed her, and his joy washed over her like a burst of warm sunshine.

  “And you shall have me,” he said.

  “Will I?” She slid her hands around his waist and leaned in. She couldn’t get enough of him or his wickedly sweet smell. And now that she’d accepted who he was, what he was, his grandness felt magnified somehow. Maybe because she understood all that he’d done, all that he’d sacrificed for humanity.

  But did he know the world was an infinitely better place because he was part of it? The first chance she had, she would tell him.

 

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