by Lisa Alder
It did. Quite a lot of the time. He liked to be dominant. And the women he'd sexed had liked the domination.
Betsy slammed the tankard down on the rough wooden slatted table and stalked away.
"You certainly know how to make friends," Barbas teased.
She reached out to grab the tankard, her fingernails trimmed short and polished with a simple clear gloss. The move once again elegant. A premonition of warning skimmed over his spine and he made a grab for her hand.
His fingers curled around hers and yanked her arm back. The move was abrupt and forceful. She shifted on the bench, pulled her hand away from his, and curled her body into a defensive position.
Barbas heart pounded swiftly in his ears as he bent closer to her. "The tankard is iron."
Her startled gaze shot to his. Yes, he knew what iron would do to her. "Don't," his voice wavered for a moment, "touch it."
Ignoring the tingling in his fingers, he poured the ale from her tankard into his glass. Then he turned the mug around so she could grasp the handle and gently curled his palms over hers. She lifted the glass for a lusty swallow then inclined her head in thanks.
"My pleasure." He purred the words. But he wondered if Betsy had brought her the iron mug on purpose. "I think someone doesn't like you."
"It has nothing to do with me." She shook her head. "I think someone does like you. I am apparently in the way."
She swallowed long and deep, the muscles in her throat working to deliver the fermented brew. And he wanted only to soothe her. But she had shown that soothing would get him nowhere. However, he could find a way to distract her. "Would you swallow my cum with the same enthusiasm, I wonder?"
She spewed a mouthful of ale onto the table. "You are quite impertinent."
"Darling, I'm assure you I'm not impertinent. Give me your hand and I'll show you." He glanced meaningfully down at his lap and startled a laugh out of her.
She bit her lip and glanced around the tavern. Finally she straightened her shoulders and shifted toward him. "Has anyone in here been asking about the Fae?"
The instinct to rear back was strong but Barbas kept his expression mocking and slightly amused. "Besides me?" He hoped she would take his meaning the wrong way and he was rewarded by her narrow gaze.
"Quit redirecting. Has anyone been asking about the Fae?" She was deadly serious as her gaze quartered the room. The Fir Bolg assassin was clear and present in that moment.
"No." And it wasn't a lie. Besides him, no one else was talking about the Fae at all.
"Fine." She finished the beer with a flourish. "You want to get out of here?"
"You just got here."
"It's empty. All the other taverns I've visited have been empty too."
It was a wonder they hadn't run into each other before now.
"The town must be preparing for the Beltane festival." She raised a single eyebrow, her mouth cocked in a wicked smile as she repeated her question. "You want to get out of here?"
Barbas couldn't conceal his surprise. Had he convinced her to give him another try? "And?"
"Take me back to the clearing and we'll talk."
"Talk?" Disappointment clouded his anticipation.
Her look was saucy. "Among other things."
SEVEN
They arrived in the clearing without any complications.
Barbas leaned toward her, knowing that his posture gave away how much he wanted her. But as he scrutinized her bright chestnut eyes, he knew he didn't want to deceive her. "I don't want to lie to you." The words burst out without sensor.
She nodded once. "But you will." The somber statement cast shadows in her eyes.
He was the Demon of Deception. It was inevitable that he would deceive her and yet, as he clasped her hand in his, grip tightening with frustration, he swore to her. "I will not lie to you. I swear it to be so." He might use their association to further his mission to infiltrate the Fae but he would not lie to her.
Her eyes widened as she took in his vow. As if she understood he spoke the absolute truth. Her gaze cut away from his. And in that moment, he realized that for once he might be on the receiving end of the lies rather than the other way around. He wondered briefly if she had an ulterior reason to acquiesce to this assignation.
Her face lightened with mischief and she carefully, deliberately dropped her cloak to the forest floor. She was still fully dressed in a tunic and breeches beneath the heavy cloak. Before he could comment, she said, "Your body won't lie."
"My body will always be truthful." He agreed. And yet, how would a former virgin know? His erection pushed at the placket of his simple linen breeches and pulsed to his heartbeat. Gods, he wanted her. A Fae. "It's completely irrational."
"What's that?"
"How fucking much I want you."
She stroked her fingers over his jaw and raised her brow as if questioning the veracity of his confession.
"Truth." He pressed his palms against her full breasts and savored the pierce of her nipples in his palms through the heavy silk of her tunic. The tunic of the Fir Bolg.
He sobered instantly. "So, assassin?"
She stiffened beneath his hands. "What makes you ask?"
He chastised her with a look. "Don't."
"Fine." She sighed. "Yes. I have trained with the Fir Bolg."
"Be gentle with me then." He trapped her against his chest and with one hand unbuttoned the top two buttons of her tunic. Her breasts plumped revealing a tantalizing glimpse of heaven. Barbas lifted her up so he could bury his head between the generous mounds and with lazy licks he lapped at her skin. She tasted of sweetness and sin. So exotic, he licked again and listened to the rewarding sound of her moan.
Her palms were pressed flat against the muscles of his chest and her curly black hair curtained around his face, closing off the outside world as he explored the bounty of her breasts. He slipped another button loose, then pushed aside the sheer panels of her under-tunic. Her breasts tumbled out of the restraining material and begged for his touch.
He wanted her so much, desire fired his blood. The thought angered him. This feeling of being out of control was anathema. He had to be in control always. Bad things would happen if he didn't maintain a tight hold on himself. His careening thoughts gripped his emotions in a stranglehold. And he knew that no matter that she had been a virgin yesterday. Today she was his. And she would know it.
Barbas couldn't wait to feast on her breasts. "Give them to me," he demanded.
"What?" she moaned breathlessly. Her chest heaved as if she'd fought off five attackers.
In a quick move, he took her to the ground and rolled until she was pressed against his straining erection. She lay beneath him spread out like a bounty.
"Give them to me."
As if in a daze, she cupped her lush breasts and lifted them up to his mouth. He wanted desperately to lengthen his tongue and curl the member around her pert nipples but he couldn't reveal his Demon nature. Instead, he bent to her and sucked the hard berry into his mouth. He flattened his tongue and pulled hard. Her hips bucked against his as if yanked by an invisible string.
He released her nipple with a pop. "You like that?"
She lay beneath him, her eyes wide, pupils dilated, her breath coming in sweet gasps as she tried to pull his mouth back to her.
"Answer me." Her body wasn't lying to him but he wanted her complete surrender.
"Yes," she moaned. "More."
She released her breasts and grabbed his ass. He reveled in the tight grip as she rocked him against her hot sex. She burned like a night star, bright and sparkling, as she rubbed and undulated against his swollen cock. Her breasts cushioned his chest and he wanted her back in his mouth.
Barbas reared away. "I didn't say you could release them. Give me my feast."
She resisted for another instant. Barbas lifted his hips away from her until cool air rushed between their bodies and they touched nowhere. "Give them to me," he demanded harshly.
With a groan she let go of his ass and moved her hands back to her breasts.
"Touch yourself like you did yesterday in the clearing."
She squinted at him. "No." But her body said yes.
"Touch your breasts." His breath sawed in and out of his body as he bent her to his will.
Defiantly, she curved her hands around the bronzed globes and glared at him. "Suck me," she commanded.
So his princess had claws. The realization delighted him. Their joining would be a battle of wills, not an easy lusty coupling. He couldn't wait to see what she did next. "What are you going to give me if I accede to your wish?"
"I give you leave of my body." You oaf was implied. She lay beneath him completely supplicant except for the defiance in her gaze. And she didn't back down. She stared at him as if attempting to compel him and squeezed her breasts together like he'd done yesterday. "Do it."
Barbas bent toward her, but instead of playing with her nipples, he traced his tongue across the delicate line of her collarbone and licked at her skin as if it was brown sugar.
His cock surged against the heat of her pussy. Even through layers of clothing it was as if his body subconsciously recognized hers. And the fact that she was an assassin only turned him on more.
He rolled them again, purposely putting himself in a position of weakness. She lay atop him, his cock nestled in the vee between her legs and her hot core scorched him. He still hadn't given in to her demand but now her breasts hung in his face.
He blew a puff of breath over her hard nipples and her eyes glazed. Gods, she was responsive. He had barely even touched her. She wanted him to suck her but he had no plans to give in easily. The battle was the reward. His throat tightened in anticipation. "Are we expecting your guards?"
"No." She narrowed her gaze, her clear chestnut eyes suspicious.
"So I can take my time?"
She deliberately ground against his stiffy. "No."
"Yes." He rocked his hips gently and delicately lapped at one stiff peak. He blew another puff of breath against the glistening tip. "You won't regret it."
With a deep groan he buried his face between her breasts. The short stubble on his cheeks abraded her sensitive skin, reddened from his love play and still he refused to give in to her demands. The lush temptation of her body called to him. But yesterday, she had not been fulfilled. And today his mission was to pleasure her.
"I already regret it," she snarled.
Barbas slid his hot palm down the arched curve of her back and then delved beneath the snug fit of her breeches so that he could cup her very fine butt in his hands. "You have a gorgeous ass."
Her breath quickened as his fingers slid along the crease in her buttocks and skimmed over her puckered rosette. Definitely not the time for that. He continued his path until his fingers found the slick cleft of her sex. She was wet. "You are wet for me," he murmured in pleasure.
"Perhaps not you."
"For me," he stated emphatically and loved the fact that the statement was true. He could smell her arousal in the cool afternoon air. "I want to eat you up."
He rolled again until she was beneath him and he quickly stripped her breeches down her legs.
"I want that pretty pussy in my mouth. I want you begging for me to fuck you with my tongue." His cock grew harder at his words. Apparently she wasn't the only one turned on my dirty talk. Barbas held her down, his palms wrapped tightly around her ankles. Then he lifted her legs gently up and over his shoulders. His shoulders skimmed down the back of her thighs and spread her impossibly wider until she was laid bare for him.
"I will not beg," she said breathlessly. Even in a position of extreme vulnerability, she didn't back down. He loved it.
"I'm going to go down on you." He stated the words to the slick flesh of her sex. Another flush of arousal plumped her skin. Even his words turned her on. What would happen when he actually loved her with his mouth? He couldn't wait to find out. He put his lips to the thatch of curls that protected her womanhood and spoke against her sex. "And you are going to fucking love it."
She'd been a virgin. And suddenly the possibilities were endless. He couldn't wait to initiate her into all the ways her could pleasure her.
The salty sweet taste of her arousal coated his tongue. Barbas pressed a hard kiss right in the center of her sex, then just barely penetrated her with the tip of his tongue. Her hips lifted. He curled his arms around her hips and, palms flat against the sensitive skin of her abdomen, he pressed. Using his thumbs he held her sex open to the cool air and fluttered the tip of his tongue against her clit with a light touch.
Aine moaned as played with her.
Goddess, he was killing her. Her hips were locked in a tight embrace and her legs spread wide for his attentions. The slight flick of his tongue against her nub tantalized her, she reached for an orgasm but his touch was lighter than air and the sensations only teased.
She reached down to hold onto him. She needed...something. He shoved her hands away, and up to her breasts. With a sharp movement he ripped open the rest of the buttons on her tunic. "Play with yourself."
Her core ached with the need for him to penetrate her. He continued to kiss and sip and lick but the touch was too light, too soft. She filled her palms with her breasts and squeezed.
Without looking he lifted his mouth from her sex and commanded, "Pinch your nipples."
She curved her hands around her breasts and squeezed. As if choreographed, he sucked her clit, hard, into his mouth at the same time.
Her hips jerked. He growled against her sex. The sound reverberated through her core. "Again," he commanded.
Dizziness dimmed her vision. And she pinched again. This time he plunged his tongue inside of her as he tweaked her clit even harder. The invasion was a sweet torture.
"I'm going to fuck you with my tongue. I want you to keep touching yourself." The rough scrape of his stubble against her sex abraded the swollen and tender flesh. As if in sync, he began a thorough fucking with his tongue. Each thrust pushed his chin against the soft swollen mound of her sex. And the sensation was indescribable.
Too far gone to do anything but obey, Aine pinched her nipples in time to his thrusts. He'd spread her wide and proceeded to slurp and suck and fuck her with nothing more than his mouth and fingers.
Sensations crowded her. The soft blades of grass beneath her bare back. The slippery silk tunic crushed beneath her hips. The softness of her own hands on her body as with each pluck an answering tug resounded deep in her belly. The awkward stretch of her open thighs. The rhythm of his body as he rocked against her sex, plunging his tongue in and out of her feminine channel. The slightly rough texture of his tongue. The puff of his heavy breath against her sex. And the sensations that had only been hinted at yesterday came roaring back. This was why she'd suggested coming back to this clearing.
The building sensations pounded at her. Each thrust lifted her higher and higher. Just out of reach was that mystical pinnacle. The reason why Fae, Demon and Human alike sought sexual congress.
Suddenly sunlight burst behind her eyelids. Her hips jerked and her channel milked the unsatisfactory heft of his tongue. He pressed the flat of his tongue hard against her clit and her body imploded. Her hands fell limply to her side as she rode the wave of her orgasm.
Power and sunlight flooded through her as her head whirled and her body zoomed on a rush of pure sexual energy. Her heart pounded as if she'd just completed a training exercise against multiple attackers. Sweat slicked her skin and the thick heavy scent from her pussy wafted in the air.
A long low moan erupted from her mouth.
Barbas crawled up her body, dropping kisses along the way. The subtle caress of his tongue on her hipbone. The drag of heat against her abdomen. The hard suction of his mouth against her belly button. The nip of his teeth along her ribcage. The sip and suckle of his hot mouth as finally, finally he sucked on her nipples. Each sensuous tug created an answering contraction low in her belly.
>
As replete as she was, Aine wanted more. She wanted to pleasure him the same way he'd pleasured her. She began to understand why minstrels wrote songs and poets wrote odes to their lovers.
She pulled him the rest of the way up her body and attacked his mouth. The salty taste of her own body was on his tongue. "Oh." She broke away. "Do you taste similarly?"
Barbas barked a laugh. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Actually, yes." She bucked her hips. "Roll over."
"You're getting feisty again." He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear.
"Let me have you."
Barbas played a delicate game of balance. He wanted her to beg. He needed her to trust him. And Gods damn it, but he wanted his cock in her mouth. She was yet too sore to take him again today. Yesterday's penetration had likely hurt her.
"Are you sore?" he asked, hoping that he was wrong.
She blushed shyly. "I could feel the effects of our sex play with each step."
"You dirty minx," Barbas teased. "You liked it."
"I liked remembering." She paused. "Most of it."
"So you want my cock?"
Her breath caught at his crude words, then sawed in and out of her chest as a flush pinkened the tops of her breasts. "You want to give it to me." She smiled, an ancient smile of sexual temptation for someone with so little experience.
Gods, yes. But she didn't need to be told. "I'll allow it."
"Allow?" she snickered. "I may be inexperienced but I am not stupid."
"Fine." Barbas commanded, "Service me."
For a moment, she looked indecisive. She bit her lip and skimmed her gaze down to his monstrous erection. The thick staff prodded her thigh. Then she swallowed nervously. They rolled until he propped up against the tree, in almost the same position as yesterday when he'd fisted himself and watched her play with her nipples. His cock pointed straight up at the sky. The sun burned down over their bodies. She pressed her palms down the length of his stomach until she reached the girth of his prick.
She straddled one leg and bent down to lick the head. Delicately. Her hand clasped around him was smooth and soft. Too soft.