by Mima
“Charlotte, undo your command.”
Her fingers played down his ribs to pet the firm, tight skin near his base. “Fine. You’re undone.”
Voice yet more firm and clipped, Ryder spat, “You must mean it.”
She licked her lips. The moon beat down, glittering the turquoise ripples. When she let him go, she’d once more be the follower in his wake. “One more kiss.”
Scooching close enough to tease her nipples on his chest hair, she stood on tiptoe, jaw angling toward his neck once more. His throat was so muscular. It was somehow primal, as compelling as any part of him.
Instead of giving her access, he turned his head sharply, pushing his face into hers, teeth locked. “Release me.”
She stared at him, surprised. Sad. He didn’t trust her at all.
Doing a poor job of pretending calm, he added, “How can I lavish delectable kisses across your succulent breasts without my freedom?”
For the first time, his charisma fell flat. A wicked thought popped into her head. She drew on the itching, growing thing inside her. Why did the man need to be the one with all the power? Who said the innocent needed to be led? “I’ll release you after my kiss.” She smiled, biting her lip coyly. “And a demonstration.”
“What do you—”
“Turn your head.” Her order floated gently over his words, but the effect was like a slap.
His chin wrenched away from her, exposing that lovely neck again. She ran her palms up to anchor on his shoulders.
“I never expected such power from a wisp. You must stop this—”
“Don’t talk.” She kissed him in sharp silence. Open-mouthed, she ran lips and tongue and teeth across his throat, sucking and sipping.
Breathing hard, noting with satisfaction he was, too, she climbed the stairs, her hands smoothing across his shoulders and chest. Her touch was soft but firm, and she had the sense that her pale arms were binding ribbons flowing over him.
Muffled grunts and straining moans came from his throat. Lips sizzling, she pulled away and sat on the deck at the side of the stairs, knees tucked together, hands laced on top. She intended to let him go. He wanted to be let go. This defiance wasn’t like her.
A fantasy popped into her brain. Prim. She was a prim, innocent fairy. And the muscular man straining below her was a fierce vampire. Her slave, bound to serve her desires.
“Lace your hands behind your head.”
Arms rising forward and up, his hands hesitated at the crown of his head, then settled, fingers woven and locked behind his neck. Beautiful.
“Come kiss my breasts.”
He rotated to face her, hands locked behind his head. His eyes flickered with hellish red flames.
“Don’t be a poor sport. I said I’d release you, but you didn’t want me to give you a kiss. You think you’re the only one who can be in control, that pleasure is yours to give to me. I don’t like that thinking.”
She spent some time staring at his lifted, tight cock. Then her gaze traveled up his pelt to his neck.
“There’s something about your throat . . . Is vampire blood an aphrodisiac? Is there something inside you calling to me?”
His mouth opened, jaw working. He jutted his chin.
“Wow. You really can’t talk.”
She frowned. This was getting out of control. The sparkling passion had turned into some game of dominance. On the verge of letting him go, he’d irritated her with the arrogance that had captivated her before, and now she sank deeper into the power play. Was there a way to end this and reclaim their passion?
He stood in chest-deep water, his hands still behind his head. The position displayed his muscular biceps and made his chest seem immense. It occurred to her that she really didn’t know this man.
“Kneel on the lowest step.”
She waited while he slowly, jerkily, moved into position. He was breathing much too hard for such a simple walk by the time he knelt below her. She thought about waiting, just letting him cool down while she went for a swim. Or maybe she should just walk away and let his arrogant ass turn into a pair of cute waterlogged raisins.
Seduction . . . had the potential for massive embarrassment. He was furious now that she’d stolen his will and overcome him. Despite his erection his gaze did not speak of passion. But what if she could do it, or rather undo it, and Ryder would be the lovely partner she’d almost had before? The trick was to really seduce and not use this magic to please herself as she had been.
Wow, this power was intense. She’d barely gotten a taste of moonlight and water and she’d developed delusions of grandeur and cruelty. What would she have done if Ryder had tied her up and stated how their sex would go?
She hunched her shoulders. Not good. Gram would be disappointed in her. At the same time, she was completely turned on. And he was much too angry to release. She was sorry, wanting to apologize and turn the tone back to where it had been.
She sat on the stairs, two steps above him. Leaning back on her elbows, she managed to open her legs wide and keep a straight face. Tamping the nervous laughter down, she splayed her knees. The water just lapped over the top step, and the gentle waves tickled her exposed folds.
“Here’s the thing. I never meant to command you in the first place, really. It just sort of happened because you were overwhelming me. You got bossy, and I listened, and then you were still bossy. Now you’re mad, and I’m very sorry it’s turned out this way. Let me apologize. We’ll both just calm down, okay?”
Lifting one hand, she stroked the water from her inner thigh, then lightly traced along the folds of her labia. She swallowed, feeling both ridiculous and insanely bold. But his gaze left hers and settled on her fingers.
“I’m new at this, you know. Be patient with me.” She brushed the mouth of her vagina. “I thought we were going to have fun together, and I’ve been waiting such a long time for this kind of fun.”
Sending two fingers inside, she resisted the desire to close her legs against that laser stare. “I want to give my body to you, but not as a puppet to a master. As an equal. I’m soft, Ryder. I’m eager to be touched . . . but I want to touch you, too. You look so beautiful, all still and powerful. You know what it’s like, to make love.”
She rubbed in and out with shorter, stronger movements. Her nipples tingled. “I see your hard . . .” What did she call it out loud? Swallowing, she whispered the word, “Cock. I’m so glad. I wonder if you can feel the blood in your . . .” Erection sounded like something a virgin would say. “Cock.”
The word clicked into the air. Panting, she jerked her touch to her clit. Her hips tossed, and his did, too. “Yes, Ryder. There’s our connection again.”
Clenching her ass, she lifted her hips clear of the water, pushing and plucking and rubbing at her clit. Her thighs burned to hold the spread position. “I want to touch you. That’s how this started. I just wanted to feel you. I didn’t mean to take you over.”
His body arched, belly pushing toward her in a mirror image of her offering her own hips. His erection, no—his cock—stood upright, pointing the way to her fingers. Her mind went wild with images of them linking, of his most sensitive skin burying deep inside hers. Her blood swished like uneven waves.
“I want you.”
Suddenly, her clit felt far too swollen. Crying out, she ground her fist against it, shocked. But the thick, heavy sensation pulling at her lower abs remained. Staring at his cock, she thrust her hips. His thrust, too. She felt the heat of her clit stretched into the warm air, full of blood and aching for touch. She felt his cock as if it were her own.
Her ass hit the water with a plop, her legs going slack to lie on the steps. They were coated with gritty paint, and the sensation did nothing but light up her butt and make her want to wiggle around. When she sat back on the steps, his hips withdrew as well. Fear dripped into her lust-ridden
blood.
“I release you. Be free of me, Ryder.” Get out of my skin.
But he stayed kneeling, hands where she’d ordered them.
She licked her lips.
He licked his.
Ice sheeted up her body as if this were a polar swim. She couldn’t even feel her feet. No, this was all wrong. She’d apologized, explained, he’d calmed down! She sat up and cupped her breasts, lifting their weight off her shoulders. His jaw loosened, torso leaning forward just slightly.
She imagined him touching his nipples as she worked hers.
He lowered his hands. One hand plucked at his nipple with thumb and forefinger, while the other was circled with a hard rub. The cold sank into her bones, erasing all pleasure. What had she done! She’d broken the magic!
She said again, “I release you.”
He stayed where he was. His fingers still worked over his chest.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she pulled up the magnetic rascal she first met, and envisioned him down to his smirk. She pictured him standing, brooding and dangerous, water sheeting from him. Did it work? Was he himself again?
He stood. And the ghostly erection that sat over her clit flexed.
She stood, staggering on stiff legs, heart skipping fast, then sinking like a stone. Meaning it with all her soul, she said, “I release you.”
He walked up the steps, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her breasts. She held her breath. Was this him? Was he back? Holding them together with his palms, he attacked her with kisses, eating at her nipples. His mouth was so cold. There was no warmth to thaw her. She pushed back from his grip, leaving the water entirely. “Ryder?”
He stopped. His lips gleamed. She grew dizzy at the sensation of moisture on her own mouth. Fingertips flying to her lips, she rubbed at them. Bone dry. It was true. She felt what Ryder felt.
Crying out, she pattered across the deck, around the umbrella he’d set for her modesty. She grabbed up her skirt and tee, threw them on. Looking down, she confirmed it was not tented by the ghostly sensation of a supremely rigid limb waving in front of her hips.
Spinning, she faced the still, lean form of the man she apparently now controlled by thought alone. Leave it to her to bungle seduction. “I’m going to get help. Just . . . sit down and relax. I’ll be back soon.”
He sat on the steps like a king on a throne, the blue field of the pool spread before him. Chest full of dread, Charlotte ran through the iron fence to the outer rim deck. She looked both ways. The deck was empty. She dragged her wet hair out of her tee and wrung it out. Where could she go?
The image of the blond Viking sprang to her mind. Ivor. She bolted down the deck. Running barefoot on the wood felt strange. Holding her arms across her chest to keep her breasts down, she flew past a startled couple. Finally the gleam of the nightclub’s lights came, a gorgeous royal plum now. She dashed past the split rail fence and planters of tall grasses up to the bar.
“I have to talk to Ivor!”
The bartender paused with a cherry in his hand, scanning her. “I can find him. What’s the problem?” He dropped the cherry into a tall glass of orange liquid.
“I need help.” She hesitated. Perhaps she shouldn’t announce the dilemma she’d blundered into, but she needed him to take her seriously. “With Ryder.”
The bartender slid the glass to the waitress, who sparkled away. “Just a sec.” He flipped open a phone and sent a text. “You want a drink?”
“No! This is an emergency.”
The bartender shrugged. “You didn’t say that.” He pulled out the cell and texted again.
“Are there any police here? Magic police?” She suddenly worried that what she’d done was very, very wrong.
The bartender laughed. “The Elder is in there.” He pointed at the club. “They don’t mess around on the Singles’ Cruise. Too much potential for trouble, you know?” He shook his head. “No police needed when the Elder is on deck, literally. But of course the enforcers are always watching.”
“Oh.” Charlotte’s heart sank. She hadn’t hurt anyone, though. There was just a tiny case of a Vulcan mind meld she had no idea how to back out of.
She looked at the club, still filled with happy dancers, thrumming with music. Should she go ask for help there? She didn’t know Ivor any more than she knew Ryder.
Movement caught her eye. She saw Ivor striding down the deck toward the bar. “Thank you!” she called to the bartender, and ran to meet him.
Ivor was a lot bigger than Ryder. Taller, wider, meatier. She snagged his arm as she came up to him, turning him around and pulling at him to get him going back toward the pool.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what to do. We were in the pool and things got hot, so I told him to hold on to the railing and he did. Then it just went downhill from there. What do I do?”
Ivor strode alongside her, blond hair glinting in the moonlight. “What are you?”
She was prepared for the question, finally. “A will-o’-the-wisp.”
He frowned, his face closing down. “You commanded him? And it stuck?”
She gave a wild laugh, almost running now. “Well, a lot more than that stuck. I can feel him now.” Thankfully, his erection seemed to have faded. But she still had a different sensation hanging on her shoulders, like an invisible coat.
“What do you mean?”
“I can feel his body. And he copies me without any command at all as soon as I think it.”
Ivor stopped dead. She trotted on a few more steps before facing him. His frown was gone now. His face was entirely blank. “You stupid cunt.”
Ivor leaped forward. She squeaked, arms flying up to cover her face, but he just rushed past her. He was insanely fast, long legs pounding as he vanished ahead. She scrambled after him.
When she got to the pool fence she heard the steady snarling curses in several languages. Slowing, dry throat rasping for breath, she walked through the lounges, past her underwear, and around the wide umbrella on the ground.
Ivor stood in the water below the steps, silver slacks plastered to powerful thighs. He beat at the water, slapping and smashing it. Ryder still sat on the steps, shoulders tipped, legs sprawled. Looking rather relaxed, actually. Ivor shook two mighty fists at the moon and yelled more bad words in the guttural language.
Charlotte went to stand next to Ryder, feet prickling with the sensation of being in water, unsure. She shivered.
It took long minutes while her frustration rose to the point where she dared interrupt him. “What is it?”
Ivor spun, glaring at her, teeth bared.
“Just tell me what’s happened! I don’t know what’s going on!”
He growled, spitting one epithet. She had a feeling it meant “cunt” in Viking.
“I want to help him.” She folded her arms, hugging herself.
“Do you, Charlotte of the fairy realm, take this moon-mad vampire as your lifelong slave?”
She opened her mouth and he held up his hand. “Answer truthfully.”
She huffed out a breath. “Of course not! Goodness, what a question. You need to undo this. I don’t want a slave!”
Ivor’s face drew back in a perfect sneer. “That’s what I thought.” His contempt slashed at her.
Striding through the water, he approached Ryder. Kneeling before him on the stairs, he took his sleek head between his big, thick-fingered hands and leaned down close. “Run free, old friend.”
Charlotte thought he’d kiss him, for a moment. Instead, he snapped his neck. There was no crack like in the movies. Ryder’s body toppled back against the stairs, head hanging at a sick angle.
Gripped with an icy horror, she sucked in one deep, rasping breath but still couldn’t gain enough control to scream. She sucked in another, jaw working. Her knees trembled. Ivor strode past the sprawled n
ude shell, water sheeting from his legs. He walked behind her and stopped close enough she could feel the heat of him, and she couldn’t even run. She just stood there, stuck. Beautiful Ryder, broken and empty on the stairs!
“I’d love to repeat that action on you as much as I loathed doing it the first time, so you’d best do well to keep your wisp mouth closed. Try to command me and I’ll use your tongue to tie your jaw shut.”
She blinked, gaze still locked on Ryder’s dark, crooked head. Ivor’s hand clamped around her upper arm, pinching in a brutal grip. He yanked and pulled her along behind him. Feet slapping, she went yet again back to the nightclub. This time he pulled her inside. The scream was still trapped in her throat, but it was growing.
Bodies buffeted her, the sound deafening. None of the heat in the air touched her. Ivor dragged her through an endless crowd until he stood at a private booth tucked into a black-painted nook. But the booth itself was white and pink, corralled by a pink velvet rope. It was such an incongruously ridiculous setting for a tiny elderly woman in a black cloak, hood pulled low over her face. This was the Elder the bartender had spoken about. She would bring Ivor to justice for killing Ryder.
Ivor shoved Charlotte up against the rope. “This fairy swamped the vampire Ryder, then refused the bond. I freed him.”
Charlotte’s head turned so fast and hard her wet hair slapped her own cheek. Freed? What a liar he was. She opened her mouth to denounce him, but his words gritted on.
“As far as I’m concerned, she murdered Ryder with carelessness, over a mere sexual whim.”
The truth slammed up against her in concussive blows that made her jaw ache. Ryder’s warning. Her defiance. Her continued defiance. That scream was still stuck in her throat. He kept talking.
“I turn her over to you, since she claims ignorance. While she did nothing against your laws, I think you’ll find the fairies will have many fewer partners after tonight.”
The tall man stared down at her, his blue gaze reminding her of the teal pool lights and Ryder’s slumping body. “You might think you’re safe, but wolves are very familiar with the long hunt.” He bared his teeth, and it wasn’t dramatic. It was damning. She literally felt the sting of those teeth on her neck already.