“When you blush, you blush all over. It’s sexy as hell.”
“Fawkes…”
He didn’t let her finish her moan, though she wasn’t quite sure what she would have said short of begging.
He rolled her nipples between his fingers and pinched down through her bra. Hard.
She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his palms more. He quickly undid the front clasp of her bra, letting her breasts fall in his palms.
Heavy.
Ready.
He lowered his head, pulling her nipple between his teeth. She gasped as he flicked her tongue, causing her stomach to tighten, her pussy doing the same.
When she was wiggling in his hold, he lavished her other breast, forcing her to rock against him, begging for release.
He chuckled against her skin, the rasp another form of torture.
Finally, he moved so he knelt on the floor in front of the couch and moved so he was between her legs.
She swallowed hard, silent but her heavy pants as he undid her jeans and slid them, along with her panties down her legs. He threw them to the side and she found herself naked on the couch while he knelt fully clothed between her legs.
“What are you doing?” she asked, hoping he was about to do what she thought he was. She might have been a submissive wolf, but she wanted his mouth on her.
Now.
“I’m going to taste this sweet cunt of yours then fuck you with my fingers until you come around me. Then I’m going to take you to the bedroom and fuck you with my cock until both of us are boneless, marked, mated, and whole.”
She blinked, holding herself back from coming from his words alone.
“Okay.”
He grinned again then lowered his face to her mound. He kissed the short hair she’d trimmed there then licked along her nether lips. He took this thumb and forefinger to spread her then sat back on his haunches and stared.
She would have been embarrassed if not for the hungry look on his face.
Before she could beg for his touch he licked her clit, then sucked. She rocked her face against him, holding the couch so she didn’t force him even closer. He sucked, licked, and nibbled along her clit and pussy until she was radiating with need. A storm of heat and need tumbled within her and she felt the orgasm spark until it rolled over her, her body thrashing as she called his name. She threw back her head, closed her eyes, and rode the wave of pleasure her mate provided.
He continued to go down on her as she came off her high, her body drugged with pleasure. Then he licked up her body, until his lips found her own. She could taste herself on him and just thought it was about the hottest thing ever.
She felt his hands on her ass and suddenly she was in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, her wet heat against the thick line of his erection within the confines of his jeans.
“Bedroom?” he moaned.
She nodded and leaned to kiss up his neck as he walked them to his bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed and she leaned back on her arms as he pulled off his shirt and pants.
“You weren’t wearing underwear?” she asked, her stomach tightening again as she watched him.
He was gorgeous. Long and lean muscles covered his body. The ridges of his abdomen begged for her tongue and she couldn’t wait to taste him.
Speaking of tasting…
She gulped as she studied his cock. Thick, long, and curved so it bounced on his stomach as he leaned over to kick the rest of his clothes out of the way.
“If you keep staring at me like that, things are going to end a bit quicker than I’d planned.”
She smiled then stood quickly, pushing him on his back on the bed before he had a chance to understand what she planned.
“Leslie? Oh shit.”
She cupped his balls and sucked the head of his cock into her mouth. She ran her tongue around the tip then along the little slit, loving the way his musky taste settled on his tongue.
“Leslie, if you do this, I’ll come in your mouth when I really want to come in your pussy.”
She pulled back, releasing his cock with a pop. “You’re a demon. You can go again,” she teased.
He groaned and tangled his hand in her hair, directing her where he wanted. She stroked up and down his length with one hand while rolling his balls in the palm of her other hand. She licked and sucked the sides of his cock then finally let him down her throat. The tip brushed the back of her throat and she relaxed, letting him sit there for a minute before hollowing her cheeks and moving her head back. She bobbed up and down, sucking in time with the movement of her hands.
He gripped her hair and forced her to stay still. She loved that he took control. Loved. It. She raised her eyes and sought his gaze as he fucked her mouth. His cock slid in and out of her lips and she loved the taste.
Finally she felt the first spurt of his seed on her tongue and she quickly swallowed as he came in her mouth. She let each drop roll down her throat then pulled away to lick his cock clean.
“Fuck, Leslie, you’re amazing.”
She gave him a naughty grin then he moved quicker than she could blink. Suddenly she found herself on her back and his cock deep in her pussy as he thrust within her in one stroke.
“Gods,” she moaned.
Fawkes froze above her. The strain of waiting clear on his face fixed with worry. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No, please please. I need you.”
He nodded the rolled his hips back then forward. Her pussy tightened around him every time he tried to leave her and he groaned. He fucked her hard and fast, everything she needed as he leaned over her. He pulled back slightly and gripped her thighs pushing them up to her chest so he could get a bigger angle.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered.
She nodded, then let her hand travel down her stomach to her clit. She rubbed circles on her clit and felt herself let go.
“Come. Come, my Leslie.”
She did as she was told and came harder than she had in the living room. Fawkes shifted so he was still in her, but she was on top.
“Ride me, baby.”
She nodded then rode him hard, letting her hips do move of the movement. He ran his hands up her body then cupped her breasts.
“Fawkes, I can’t wait anymore. Please,” she begged. It was so much. So many emotions, feelings, touches. “I need your mark. Please.”
He moved again, This time sitting so she sat on his lap. He never stopped thrusting, showing her how strong he really was. He moved his neck to the side and she went on instinct.
She let her fangs pierce his flesh and she felt the bond snap in place as he came with her.
He held her close and then she moved back so he could mark her as well. Wolves were the ones who needed to mark, to claim, but she wanted his mark just as much.
Soon she found herself lying beside her mate, their bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion.
“That…that was amazing,” he panted.
“That was a mating,” she corrected.
“Fuck yeah.” He turned and pushed her hair away from her face. “Wanna do it again?”
She laughed and buried herself into his side. “Always.”
“I’m never letting you go, my Leslie. This is it for me. You’re my choice. That bond you feel? That’s perfection. I love you so much.”
Tears filled her eyes and she kissed his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her lips. “You’re my choice, Fawkes. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my choice.”
Fate might have given them to each other, but they’d chosen their own path.
Together.
Coming Next in the Dante’s Circle World, Tangled Innocence, in 2014
Beasts of Burden
By Marie Harte
Chapter One
“Well, well, look what the cats dragged in.” Eira smirked at the pair of huge, stone-faced guards standing off to the side in the main foyer of Folkvang—her goddess Freya’s grand palace
. There were marbled tiles, gilded moldings, and halls aplenty for drinking, whoring, and fighting. Because anyone who didn’t fight didn’t belong in the godlands.
Life with the goddess in Asgard—the immortal realm—had its perks. Perfect weather, a divine landscape filled with sweet-smelling flowers, rolling hills, and enough practice ground to keep the warriors in residence in berserker paradise. Not to mention the muscled eye-candy staring back at her.
Eira should have been ecstatic surrounded by paradise. But for all that she’d never gone hungry, thirsty, or sleep-deprived in Asgard, she’d also never gotten a rise out of Freya’s favored guards either. No joy from Hall or Avarr in five long decades. Damn. She was better than that.
Lowe, her friend and battle companion, nudged her. “Leave them alone. They’re probably tired from pulling that big cart all over the sky.”
They snickered. Freya’s chariot was no mere cart, but to be strapped to such a thing to haul their goddess’s ass around… Embarrassing. Yet who else could pull it? Not Freya’s battle boar. He didn’t have the temperament, or the strength, despite his size. The goddess’s warriors? The shapeshifting falcons and eagles wouldn’t sully their precious talons, and no valkyrie worth her spear would ever consider such a lowly task. Eira sure the hell wouldn’t. Besides, Freya’s battle-maidens had better things to do, like hauling worthy souls from the battlefield. Drinking, swearing, fighting…fucking.
She eyed Hall and Avarr again. They certainly seemed built for war. They didn’t talk much, but they looked fierce. Too bad their appearances didn’t reflect their true characters. They might be strong, sexy, and more than appealing with all that muscle, but they bored her. No fights? No inexplicable rages? No passion?
Such a waste. Both men towered over her, and she was no slight female. They had dark hair and eyes, with square jaws and massive shoulders. Dark trousers outlined their thick muscular legs, and she’d had dreams about those broad chests covered in sleeveless tunics. By Hel’s breath, the golden bands around their arms would nearly fit around both of her thighs. Their hands looked large enough to span her entire head. Yet they’d never held a sword, bow, or axe.
She felt sorry for them.
“Do you two ever do anything other than breathe, hunt mice, and pull that chariot around?” An unfair question, as they lived to serve and protect their goddess. But Freya never used them as more than intimidating bookends who constantly escorted her immortal tush all over the place.
Hall raised a brow. Oh gods, a reaction. She felt positively giddy.
Like Avarr next to him, he possessed a feline soul—a giant battle-cat the size of two grizzlies. Not a falcon or a boar, but still an impressive animal when shifted. Too bad she’d never seen him fight anything but a harness.
Avarr stared at her, his eyes so dark they looked black. “Little Snow, is there something you wanted?”
“Eira, I’m hungry. Are you coming or not?” Lowe griped. The elfin valkyrie was just visiting before she returned to Midgard, where she normally lived with her mother’s people among the humans. The girl’s blood sugar had been a popular topic of conversation of late. When Lowe grew hungry, she turned bitchy. Then heads rolled, bodies crumpled, and wars started.
As much as Eira loved her warmongering buddy, Avarr’s tone warranted further discussion. She scowled and ignored Lowe’s urging to join the others in the feast hall.
“Fine. I’m going without you.” Lowe left Eira alone with the brutes.
Finally.
“What did you call me?” Eira asked and stomped to within arm’s reach of them. This close, they made her feel small, an odd feeling for a valkyrie to have. She’d been bred of Odin’s lightning and Freya’s will but born to mortal parents. The heart of gods, the flesh of humans. And now in her prime, she was a warrior strong and true with the muscle and battle sense to take on even these beasts. Her heart raced at the thought, wondering if—how—she’d defeat them if they chose to fully engage.
“I called you by your name,” Avarr rumbled. Eira meant snow in Old Norse. “And you’re little. Little. Snow.” Avarr leaned closer, and she swore he inhaled her and purred.
No. Avarr didn’t do things like that. He had to be teasing her. Another first. Except she found it annoying. She wasn’t little, by any stretch of the imagination.
Hall sighed and crossed his arms over his broad chest, bringing attention to his thick forearms.
“What? Nothing to say, Hall?” she snapped. Her stupid white hair had been responsible for Eira. She’d loved her human parents, but really? Snow? Thank the gods she hadn’t been born with buckteeth. They might have called her Bucky for an eternity.
“What is there for him to say?” Avarr asked. “It’s your name, is it not?”
“Have we caused offense? It wasn’t our intention,” Hall apologized.
As usual, the mere scent of a fight was enough to pull them back from a confrontation. So disappointing.
“Ech. I’ve better things to do than waste my time on beasts of burden.” She sneered then turned on her heel and left, wishing they’d stop her. Yell at her. Fight her. Something.
As usual, they did nothing of the kind.
She joined her friends in the feast hall, no longer pleased over their earlier victory on the battlefield, and wondered if any of the falcons would object to her using them as target practice for entertainment later. Probably. Birds could be such pussies about losing a limb.
Avarr clenched his fists. “I can’t continue like this anymore. I’m through.”
Hall caught his shoulder and stopped him when Avarr would have followed Eira inside. “Not yet.”
“Always not yet. It’s been fifty years already. I’m not getting any younger.”
Hall snorted. “You’re not getting any older either.”
Though not brothers, they shared a common beast. Freya’s children all possessed god-like abilities, and she’d gifted them with the eternal ability to shift form. While many boars, falcons, and eagles filled her halls, few battle-cats roamed the lands. Used as guides to pull her chariot and entrusted with Freya’s safety, he and Avarr had a special place of honor among all in the Norse pantheon. Try telling that to the sexy hothead who had the incessant need to wield an actual weapon. Like her friends, she disdained his lack of a sword. Apparently the ability to crush an opponent’s skull between his teeth meant little to her and the other braggart warriors needing axes and bows to do damage.
“This is intolerable. Her insults, her scathing looks.” Avarr’s eyes lit with battle lust. Not a good thing with so many provocative shifters in residence for the afternoon meal. “We end this. Right the fuck now.” He gave Hall a mean smile. “And I do mean the fuck now.”
“We’re close. Bear with it just a bit more.”
Avarr seethed, and Hall couldn’t blame him. Ever since they’d laid eyes on Eira, they’d been in a constant state of lust and frustration. While both men had often shared women before, Eira was different than the tame females they’d pleasured. Mighty, full of life, gorgeous. She possessed a silken fall of long white hair, violet eyes framed by a forest of dark lashes, and a full, provocative mouth. Her attitude got him hard every time. It was a constant exercise in restraint not to take her over his shoulder and carry her away to his den. To be his and Avarr’s forever.
Freya demanded they wait until they’d fulfilled their duty. Until they were “ready.” She’d promised them eternal riches and rewarded them constantly with overeager maids and the occasional male intent on pleasing them. Yet Eira the goddess held in the distance, their prize…when the time was right.
“Yes, Avarr. Just a bit longer,” Freya said as she materialized behind them.
“Damn it. I hate when you do that,” Avarr snarled.
Hall elbowed him in the gut. “Your apologies, Freya. You caught us unaware.”
Avarr bowed his head. “Goddess,” he muttered, no doubt choking on his rage. How he went day after day muting his emotions still baffled Hall, b
ecause the moment they had any privacy, Avarr exploded.
Freya laughed at them. “You’re both so very cute.” No one but Freya ever called them such. Ferocious. Brutal. Monstrous. Cute? Not so much. “So close, yet still the answer eludes you,” she mused.
“Answer?” Hall frowned. “You said we had to be ready. Nothing about questions needing answers.”
“And that’s part of your problem. You aren’t open. But you will be.”
She kept him in a state of hope. Hall was constantly trying to find the answer to getting Eira into his arms. For good. “Yes, Freya.”
“Don’t be glum, sweetness. You’re in luck. I’m feeling particularly joyful this day. We’re about to play the games again!”
“The games?”
“It’s been five hundred years. Ah, but it seems like just yesterday.”
“Uh, Freya, we’re only three hundred and eleven years old.” Yet he knew what she meant. Ludos Deorum—Games of the Gods. He’d heard about them for years, and now they’d play them again. He wondered if the stories the falcons and valkyries liked to tell were true…
In her excited enthusiasm, Freya glowed. Literally. Beaming with a soft blue nimbus that highlighted her golden hair, bountiful breasts, and lush hips, their goddess of fertility, war, and sex aroused passions like no other—with the exception of Eira. The only woman to ever turn Hall’s attention from his goddess. That had to mean something.
“Three hundred, three thousand. It all runs together without something meaty to sink our teeth into, eh?”
Avarr grunted.
“Yes. Avarr knows too well, hmm?” She winked at him, her blue eyes fathomless and frothing with power. “Now come with me, my lovely pets. I have need of you in Sessrumnir.” Her grand hall, set apart in Folkvang.
They followed her through a labyrinth of splendor. Vines and plant life in bold splashes of color edged into every aspect of Freya’s legendary palace. As the goddess of fertility, her reach extended beyond people and animals into crops and land. Mistress of procreation, of the earth itself.
Ever After Page 6