Harvest Moon: Beaux Rêve Coven, Book 4

by Devlin, Delilah

  Darcy raised a hand. “Let me get this straight. A vanir who can impregnate any woman, and a jinn who’s into wish fulfillment…? What kind of racket were you two running?”

  Khan’s cheeks flushed with ruddy color. “We were…younger.”

  “Horny, you mean,” Darcy drawled.

  “That, too. Yes. Look, I’m not proud of the years I spent—”

  “Years?” Radha blurted, allowing a sharper edge to invade her tone.

  “Um,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe three hundred.”

  “Centuries? You preyed on desperate women for centuries?”

  “They weren’t so desperate when we left them,” he said bitingly.

  “You whore!” Darcy chortled.

  Radha shook her head. Yeah, she’d known he was a jinn. That humans would pursue him relentlessly for his skills, but to know he’d played with their fears—

  “It wasn’t quite as sordid as you’re imagining right now. I never took advantage. If they wished for a child—”

  “You what? Pointed them in your buddy’s direction, or did they rub your lamp?” she said, glancing down at his crotch.

  With his lush mouth thinning, he quipped, “You know that’s bullshit. I don’t live in a damn lamp.”

  “Enough!”

  Ethan’s roar rattled the dishes.

  He pushed up from his seat. “Can you find him?” he asked, glaring at Khan.

  “I know someone—his human handler, I guess you’d call her.”

  “Find him. If he can’t be persuaded to come, bring him anyway.”

  At that moment, little Tor let out a wail. As did Esme who now rested in one of the mermen twins’ arms.

  All anger bled away from Ethan’s face as he lifted his son from his highchair. “Find him,” he said more calmly as he patted his son’s back. “And you,” he said to Radha, “Choose.”

  Back at Radha’s cottage, her large floor loom rattled and groaned loudly enough to be heard on the porch outside. Usually a soothing sound, Khan winced when he heard a crash.

  “I’m guessing I’m guarding the witch tonight,” Nikon drawled from where he stood, leaning against the porch railing.

  “What was your first clue?” Khan growled from his seat on a long padded bench.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think you dropped from number one choice to bottom of the list when you let slip that you whored with the vanir.”

  “We didn’t whore. We were partners in a…venture.”

  “To impregnate women. I’m surprised the witches didn’t ask how he manages to do it. Get infertile women preggers, I mean. Does he fuck them?”

  Khan shot up from his seat. “He doesn’t give them his seed. They don’t bear his children.”

  “But he does fuck them…?”

  Feeling as though he wanted to strike something, in particular the satyr’s grinning face, instead, Khan gripped the railing. “After he…lies with them…they’re repaired. Temporarily. Readied for their husband’s seed to take.”

  “Damn. Bet he’s had thousands of miles of c—”

  His voice was cut off by Khan’s hand pressing his throat. “And satyrs aren’t horny fuckers?” Slowly, he let go.

  Nikon rubbed his neck. “Women like what we can do, even if they don’t really know precisely what we’re doing, if you know what I mean.”

  “You throw a glamour that hides your true appearance, confusing them. How is that any less reprehensible than what the vanir does? At least, he leaves them able to conceive.”

  Nikon pursed his lips. “What I’m wondering is what he needed with you.”

  “I was wondering the same thing…” came Radha’s soft voice from the doorway.

  Khan felt all his anger toward the satyr drain from his body.

  “I’d like to know, jinn,” she said, stepping onto the porch. She still wore her magenta silk skirt with a shimmery gold top that exposed the tops of her plump breasts. She looked lovely.

  He raised his chin. “In case you didn’t realize, when someone captures me, either physically or through empathy, I am beholden to them.”

  “You grant their wish,” she said, her tone a little flat. “Again, why did the vanir need you?”

  “Women begged me for things,” he said, his voice hoarse, because he knew every word he said diminished him in her eyes. “They begged for a child. Begged for their husbands to never find out how they’d been made able to conceive. Begged to learn to love their husbands…”

  “And you allowed yourself to be put in their path so that you could be used in that way…”

  He nodded.

  She cleared her throat. “Did you fuck them together?”

  He cleared his throat. “Sometimes. If they wished…”

  She closed her eyes. “How would a woman, who might be your wife, ever trust that you’d remain true…?”

  And there was the crux of his problem. Short of imprisoning himself, where he’d never come into contact with another person other than his wife—like the tale about the genie in the lamp—there was no way to ensure he’d never be pressed into granting an inappropriate wish.

  “All I can promise is to remain aloof from others who might use me,” he said, holding her gaze and hoping she believed the promise he was willing to make.

  She gazed out at the water moving slowly through the canal, moonlight glinting on its surface. “How will you contact your…friend?”

  “He’s no longer my friend. We parted ways long ago.” But he reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Not friends, and yet, you have his number?”

  “I have his handler’s number. Before I came to Bonne Nuit, I met a woman who was despondent over failing to bear a child, so I reached out.”

  Her lips firmed. “These women cheat the Goddess.”

  He tilted his head. “Or perhaps, the Goddess placed the vanir here to provide a needed service.”

  She blinked. “Maybe. Anyway, I’m going to try to get some rest.”

  “You will keep your door unlocked…in case you need one of us to wake you,” he said, reminding her that danger lurked in her travels.

  Radha gave a mirthless laugh. “Sure.”

  When she turned away, he noted the satyr’s expression. For once, his smirk was gone. “She suffers.”

  Khan glanced down at his phone and dialed the number.

  Chapter 3

  Later, Khan let himself inside her bedroom after the satyr left her side to shower. Drawing closer to the bed, he took in the sight of her, lying on her back, her thick brown hair spread on her pillow. Moonlight filtered through the window. Everyplace it touched her, her skin glowed like a lustrous pearl.

  Except beneath her eyes. There, dark crescents looked like bruises. How had he not noticed she was exhausted?

  She lay still, barely breathing, so he pulled an armchair close to the bed and sat in the darkness, waiting for any changes that might indicate distress.

  Radha had said she sometimes walked around the house, and he wondered if she was doing it now, looking at him as he watched over her. Had she watched him at other times, when he’d traced the arches of her dark brows with a fingertip? Had she seen his gaze roam her body? He should feel ashamed for the liberties he’d taken, but he didn’t. He’d savored every second, knowing she’d never accept his touch in any other circumstance. Since the beginning, she’d held herself apart from the males, other than accepting a crooked elbow or a hand to help her stand.

  As far as he knew, she’d never so much as kissed one of the demons. Except in dreams, apparently, and he nearly groaned at the thought of how she’d moved through his, sometimes clothed, sometimes not.

  Once, she’d caught him as he’d dreamed of bathing, and she’d joined him in the tub, straddling his waist and sinking down his hard cock. He’d watched her swaying breasts and had caught them in his hands as water splashed over the edge of the tub, filling the floor so much that the tub had floated from the floor
, out the doorway, and rushed through a waterfall down the steps and into the bayou.

  He’d awoken the moment he’d come, emptying himself inside his pants. Had she laughed, knowing he’d been unable to control himself?

  Other times, she’d seemed shy, strolling through his dreams of faraway deserts, the sun glowing gold on her naked skin as she’d given him sideways glances and smiles while she’d led him to a pool of water, date palms shading the oasis.

  “Is this a place you knew?” she’d asked.

  He’d glanced around, surprised that he recognized it from his long ago youth. “Yes. I think so.”

  She’d floated on her back, the water hiding her belly and legs but her rose-brown nipples beckoning above it. He’d been unable to resist the temptation and sank to his knees, placed her thighs atop his shoulders, and gave into the craving to know the flavors of her intimate flesh while she’d stretched out her arms, floating.

  Radha stirred on the bed, and her eyebrows lowered. Was the mare there? Was she frightened?

  He bent close to her ear. “I’m here, Radha, right beside you.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him. “I was here, watching you,” she whispered. “Your expression…” she said, tracing a finger along his cheek. “I saw such a look of longing. What were you thinking about?”

  “You, floating in the pool at the oasis.”

  Her mouth twitched then stretched into a small smile. “I liked what you did.”

  “I could give you that pleasure. Here. Now.”

  “All I have to do is wish it?” she said, her tone teasing.

  “I would give it freely, without a wish.”

  She tilted her head as she looked at him. “Is it somehow different—when pleasure is freely given or compelled?”

  Because she seemed to be teasing, lighter of spirit than she’d been before, he smiled. “You will have to try it both ways to know the difference.”

  Her chest rose and fell more deeply now, and she swallowed. “I wish…”

  Radha saw the instantaneous reaction to those two words in his dark eyes. They glowed as though a lamp had been lit from within. His expression honed his cheeks and the edge of his jaw, and he held still, not breathing.

  “I wish,” she repeated, “that you would make love to me with your mouth.” When she finished, she drew a sharp breath, realizing she’d asked for something she hadn’t allowed herself in over six years. Sexual pleasure in her corporeal body. Sure, playing in dreams was fun, but she’d always been left feeling empty when she awoke.

  “May I undress you?” he asked, his voice deepening, so musical to her ears she felt a shiver move across her skin.

  Radha accepted his hand and let him help her stand beside the bed. He drew off her nightgown and panties then picked her up in his arms. He walked on his knees to the center of the mattress where he deposited her.

  His movements were sure, deliberate—seductive. There was no hesitation, no waiting for her to give him any cues as to what she wanted next. His attention was fixated on her body, his gaze roaming her breasts and lower to between her legs.

  When he paused to remove his dark tee, she held her breath. She’d seen him nude, had even touched his body—during the ceremony when the witches had shared their power, smoothing moonlight on their skin. She’d touched him everywhere, giving him protection, and yet, all the while coveting his lean muscles and satin-smooth skin. She’d lingered over his cock, caressing it with long strokes until he’d moved her hand away. Sensing he’d been close to exploding, she’d eyed his rigidity and wondered how it would feel sliding inside her. That had been the first time she’d been tempted to surrender to him.

  Khan kicked off his shoes, but other than unsnapping the button closing his jeans, he made no further move to disrobe.

  Though disappointed, she knew it was for the best, and not part of what she’d asked him for. As his features tightened, his expression growing more intense, her heartbeats hammered against her chest.

  His hand smoothed over her heart. Had he heard the beats?

  Her nipple dimpled beneath his rough palm, and he bent over her breast, cupping the other while he latched his firm lips around her areola. His tongue slid over the tip, teasing it, flicking it, until she couldn’t hold back a gasp or a roll of her hips.

  His mouth stretched, and he smiled as he sucked more of her breast into his mouth. He drew hard then slowly pulled back his head, his lips tightening as they reached the turgid tip, tugging on it, and then releasing it with a loud pop.

  Then he rooted at her other breast, and Radha gave into the sensations slamming through her. Her head rolled side to side; her moans broke past her throat. Her hips danced until he moved between her legs and lowered his torso to trap her lower body as he continued to ply her nipples with flicks and long, sweet pulls.

  She wound her fingers through his dark, chin-length hair, loving the heat and satin softness that slid between her fingers. Knotting her fingers in the silky strands, she pushed his head downward, quivering as he chuckled against her skin, jumping every time he bit her on his journey downward.

  When he teased her bellybutton, she swore she could almost come from the sudden flare of pleasure that pulled at her core.

  “If you are impatient,” he said, his voice thick and slightly hoarse, “tell me what you wish.”

  Cupping her lonely breast, she drew a ragged breath. “I wish…you would pleasure my…pussy. Please, Khan. Now.”

  “Ali,” he whispered. “The others can call me Khan, but I would have you call me Ali.”

  “Ali, please, I need you.”

  “Ah, love,” he whispered and scooted down the bed until his face hovered over her sex. There, he drew a deep breath. “Just like the dream,” he said, his gaze rising, and then holding her gaze locked with his, he stuck out his tongue and lapped between her folds. “Like the sweetest honey,” he said, his lips glistening.

  And as corny as those words would have sounded coming from any other man, she believed him. “My clit,” she gasped. “Suck it.”

  He arched a brow.

  She rolled her eyes. “I wish you would suck my clit.”

  Instantly, his mouth descended, latching around her clit to draw on it while his tongue stroked over the small knot of nerves.

  Tiny, sexy jolts of electricity shot straight to her core. She widened her thighs, letting her knees fall open as far as they could. Then she began to bounce against his mouth, shallow bucking movements, and yet she never dislodged him. He held steady, working her clit until the sensations were nearly painful and her body shook as she neared her orgasm.

  When fingers slid into her drenched channel, she screamed, coming hard against his mouth, her pussy convulsing to draw him deeper, her hips rolling as she chanted over and over, “Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!” When she reached the crest, she fell back against the sheets, darkness consuming her.

  Khan watched her face as she came. He’d never seen anything so lovely. Her chest had arched, the hard tips of her nipples pointing toward the ceiling. When she’d collapsed, he’d felt the ripples up and down her channel, the wash of fluid that coated his hand. Her sex throbbed, relaxing, clenching, over and over, and more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life before, he wished he could feel that happen when his cock was lodged deep inside her.

  When her breaths grew even, he stopped plying her with soothing laps of his tongue. Coming up to lie beside her on the bed, he realized she slept. Deeply.

  Feeling very humbled that he’d managed to give her that ease, he drew her body against his and closed his eyes.

  What felt like only moments passed. He was seated on a marble ledge surrounding a steaming pool inside a building that looked like a Roman bath. He sat on thick toweling, completely nude, his cock sprung between his legs.

  “I’m sorry about that,” a soft voice said just as a hand reached around him to stroke his cock.

  Taking a deep breath, he leaned back against Radha as
she sat behind him, her legs stretched beside his. Her arms encircled his waist and both hands now gripped his shaft. “What you did for me…” she whispered beside his ear, “I haven’t fallen straight to sleep like that since I was a child.”

  “Perhaps we should do this every night, then.”

  She nuzzled his neck. “It’s not a permanent solution.”

  “No, but for now, you can rest and grow stronger. The vanir will be here in two days. We have until then,” he said, glancing back at her.

  Her teeth nibbled her lower lip.

  “Don’t,” he whispered, turning harder to kiss the corner of her mouth. When she leaned around to kiss him fully, he sucked on her bottom lip before letting it go. “Please, try not to worry. Give yourself to me. We don’t have to fuck to find our pleasure. You don’t have to give up a single thing to be with me.”

  Her eyes misted. “I’m so confused…Ali. With anyone else, I lift my chin and float right by. With you, I feel…not weak…but like I want to give myself, I want to surrender…everything.”

  “Doesn’t sound so awful to me,” he drawled.

  She bit his shoulder and hugged him. “My sisters and I gave up so much to be here. We risked everything for our independence, and now, one by one, we’re succumbing.”

  He chuckled. “Succumbing? As far as I can tell, Bryn fell in love with Ethan.”

  “From first fuck, if you hear her tell it.”

  His laughter grew louder. “Miren is far from ‘succumbed’. She seems to have her draugr and two mermen dancing to her tune.”

  “And yet, she lets them syphon off her power.”

  “It’s not syphoning if she’s gifting it. She wants them strong and safe. They serve her wishes in return.”

  “You and that word,” she grumbled, her hands moving lazily up and down his shaft.

  “That word is the source of our enslavement. Our curse, unless it is used by one who loves us.” He glanced back again. “Aoife seems quite happy to leave her safety in Sigurd’s hands.”

  “She’s never been quite as independent as the rest of us. Guess it makes sense that she always knew she’d have to find a champion to fight the fae.”