Babes in Toyland II

by Aspen Mountain Press Authors

  "You'll make a good father,” Penina smiled, but Hadassah made a groaning sound and pulled her child away, causing Elisheva to scream in rage.

  "It is a woman's duty to care for the young. You should understand that.” Huffily, she dragged the screaming toddler from the room.

  "Not all women feel that vehemently on the subject,” Penina tried, but it only reminded Jacob of how he allowed his family to do what Hadassah had done.

  According to oral law, mothers did raise children but only extremists excluded the father from the child's life as she had. But the Talmud wasn't as nebulous; it stated that a descendant of his line couldn't marry a non-believer or convert—not without condemning the rest of the line.

  He looked at the rest of his meal and pushed it away, appetite lost. It just didn't seem right. Walking led him to the remains of Rabbi Pathai's home. Peering into the debris, he saw nothing that reminded him of the hours spent with the patient older man. The last few lessons Pathai had hinted Jacob needed to follow his heart. Despite the law, the learned man approved of Saka. He also suggested moving, understanding the problems with the match.

  His feet led him back to the Temple Mount. From the shadows inside Jacob saw in astonishment the glint of light from the Menorah. It wasn't possible! He walked closer and stopped short at the lemon tree. Underneath its barren branches sat Saka and a few others, all watching the Temple.

  "Have you been here all night?” There were shadows under her eyes and she swayed with the wind, staring dreamily at the light. “Come, let me walk you home.” She had to be in a daze to let him pull her to her feet and walk the few blocks to Abijah's home. It resembled his parent's, but with a lot less clutter. All of his children were grown, gone.

  "Where do you sleep?” She just stood there staring at the floor. “Saka, where is your sleep pallet?"

  * * * *

  "My name isn't Saka."

  It wasn't what he asked, but it was important. Her sleep pallet was in the back, off of the kitchen, so she walked toward it half-asleep. If he followed that was his choice, all she wanted was to lay down so she could watch the light of the Temple at night again.

  "Then what is your name?"

  "Abijah hasn't decided yet. He told me about the woman he called my mother. Her name was Shiri.” Rubbing the grit in her eyes, she mentally tripped over something important. “The hair combs really did belong to my father's mother. Uma was a convert from the same type of people that I grew up with. She married one of the Levites and had my father.” Her head ached so she rubbed her temples. “I can't remember his name right now."

  "Shh ... it doesn't matter.” He undid the stays on her head covering, revealing the wealth of lustrous, dark brown curls.

  "Yes, it does matter.” She turned so fast she lost her balance and fell against his chest. “If I'm like you but was just lost, then we can be together, don't you see?"

  "Hush.” He brushed his lips against her mouth, stilling her cries. “I don't care. I want to be with you even if it means moving away, back to the forests where you raised Darghu."

  Stunned, Saka gazed up at him as his thumbs swept away the tears running from her eyes. All other thought fled her mind as his hands gently pulled away the different layers of clothes. Within minutes they stood naked, just touching one another's bodies as if afraid it was a dream about to shatter. Jacob kissed her and they slid to the waiting pallet. Her thighs parted, accepting his weight. The thick weight of his sex nudged her opening and she spread her legs, farther bracing her feet, but he refused to be rushed. He kissed her eyes, licking the path of the tears on her face and into her ears making her squirm. Clever fingers rolled the flesh of her breasts, pinching the nipples erect. He nipped at her shoulder and thrust deep inside, the ache in her heart had been replaced with one building low in her body.

  "I love you Jacob,” she cried against his ear, “Only you."

  Her world dissolved into heat and animalistic cries as her body racked with her release. He called out at the same time and she felt his sex, throbbing deep inside as he feathered kisses along her jaw. Half-asleep, she felt him withdraw and made to pull him back, but he just whispered nonsense and lay on his side pulling her back up against him.

  "Sleep my heart and when you wake, we'll watch your miracle together."

  For the next six nights they sat on the bench and through the day they loved with a quiet desperation. On the seventh night Darghu staggered up to the Temple Mount, foam flecked his lips and his legs wobbled. The woman who was Saka ran forward and claimed her horse, walking him to her new home to bed him down with water and feed. Sensing their time was at an end, Jacob bathed and entered the Temple to assist in the pressing of the oil.

  Instead he found himself standing in awe before the menorah and stared, feeling deeply moved in a way that no sunrise or sunset could match. Snapping out of it, he hurried over to assist Abijah by saying the blessings as the olives were washed and prepared for pressing.

  When they were done the light was burning low, almost at its end but the fresh oil was prepared and dawn neared. It truly had been a miracle. The oil had lasted exactly as long as it had been needed.

  Stepping out of the Temple, Jacob felt the love for his faith and his people rise up and take his breath away. During the days of the rededication, the entire population of Judah had traveled to the Mount to see for themselves the miracle of the lights.

  "Henceforth,” boomed a deep voice, “let us remember this miracle of the oil every year. Not just as a rededication of our Temple, but as one of our faith.” The Kohanim Gadol moved slowly down the steps to lean on Jacob's shoulder.

  "Now young man, take me to my granddaughter. We have a naming ceremony to perform so you can wed. I just found her again, you two aren't running anywhere."

  Epilogue

  "Papa, papa! Baby Aaron tried to blow the lights out again!” A fat, pouty lip stood out comically on a small oval face with big tawny eyes and crowned with riotous curls.

  "Isha, you know better than to interrupt your father as he does the blessing,” Jacob turned and watched his very pregnant wife tugging her firstborn back to her knees, a blue-eyed boy perched on her hip, sucking his thumb around a mischievous grin that had recently sprouted teeth.

  Abijah had taken small pity on his grown granddaughter, naming her Chaka. In their bed, Jacob still called his wild warrior woman by the name they shared between them, but the rest of the community accepted her new name and noble lineage without a grumble. Foretelling a miracle and watching it nightly with nothing but pure faith in her returned family, people and God had shamed even the loudest of discontents.

  After her naming, Abijah had insisted on a trip to Sruba to see the place where he last saw Chaka's mother, which naturally led a merry chase across mountains to find a suitable mate for the redoubtable Darghu. Foals of his line were highly sought after, proving his heart and stamina.

  By the time they returned home to Judah, it was time for Isha's birth. Abijah stayed in the cold winter-swept woods. It was Jacob and Chaka's greatest hope to one day join him there. She missed the snow and it fascinated Jacob and the children.

  "I hope I have a sister,” Isha said, peering into the candles on the third night of Hanukkah.

  Sharing a look of love over the dancing lights, Jacob smiled. “I have all that I have ever wanted and more."

  Chaka narrowed her eyes playfully, “I guess that means you found your present.” He laughed and kissed her lips. As if a swollen belly could hide a bow.

  Christmas Belle

  Dawn Montgomery

  Chapter One

  You could be banished for this, Belle.

  Belle twitched her wings, irritated at the belligerent voice of common sense flooding her mind.

  Who needed common sense when Mr. Goodie Goodie's tight little body was bathing in the Faerie springs? All alone. She bit her lip and let a hungry smile curve her lips. Snow crunched under her dainty boots and she winced, afraid to get caught.
/>   What would Roarke think, knowing she was watching him?

  "You have to deny yourself, Belle. Deny sex until the end of your tour."

  Who the hell did he think he was anyway, spreading his judgment on her? Her Gram, and Gram's Gram had been caretakers of the Christmas Bell for as long as Faerie history had been written. So what if it was her first time? She fluttered her wings in agitation. The bell didn't have a damn clapper anyway so why did she have to protect it? How in the world could it ring?

  Roarke ducked under the water and she leaned forward, hoping to get a peek at his gorgeous ass. Warmth churned low in her belly as she checked guiltily over her shoulder. Yep, the silver bell was still there. It wasn't like the monster could be moved anyway since it had been knocked over centuries before. Big enough to house all the Fae in the region, the thing simply couldn't be moved. And none of the other Faeries would dare touch it. End of the world and all that.

  Convinced that all was well, Belle fell to her knees behind the bush and sighed at the sight of Roarke's chiseled chest rising from the steaming liquid, water sluicing down his narrow waist to the dark thatch of fur that hid his ... She arched her neck to try and catch a glimpse of his dick. Belle gasped. Oh my. His sweet cock rose, thick and hard against the water's current.

  Sweet goddess he was big.

  She gripped the frozen bush in awe, and let all manner of wicked thoughts erupt in her mind. What would he be like, this lawman? Would he be wild or controlled? Belle licked her lips. Her breasts grew heavy and sensitive against the airy material of her robe of office. She bit back a groan. Cream slicked her panties at the thought of him tying her up. Punishing her for being naughty. She bit back a giggle shaking her head at her silly thoughts.

  Roarke wasn't interested in fun. Every time he saw her he stiffened and glared, his sensual lips thinning in disproval. Her heart fluttered in pain. She snorted softly, shoving her pain deep down. What did his opinion matter? He wasn't her type anyway. She bit her lip and tried to convince herself to stop watching.

  Roarke walked to the water's edge and caressed the golden gheji flowers growing abundantly around the spring despite the winter chill. What was he doing? One elegant hand carefully manipulated the plant, forcing it to pour its nectar into his waiting palm. The nectar was gathered in time for the holiday feasts to drink from, and for the women, to bathe in. It moisturized your skin.

  She gasped. He wasn't! His long fingers spread it over his hand. Belle pinched her nipples, her thoughts churning in shock. Roarke was going to do it.

  He fisted his proud cock and slowly pumped the rigid shaft. Belle bit her lip and slipped a desperate hand under her skirt and into her panties. Her pussy was already soaked at the thought of watching something so forbidden. The lawmen of their people only took one mate, ever. While the idea of monogamy was foreign to Belle, she could appreciate this moment of hard quaking lust.

  He rubbed his thumb over the swollen head and bit his unbelievably kissable lip. Belle rubbed around her clit, driving her own body to a soft tremble of anticipation. He stroked and she lightly rubbed her sensitive nubbin. A moan escaped on a soft sigh and she fought to keep her mouth shut. If he caught her ... she shuddered in fear of having her duty stripped from her shoulders.

  The idea of getting caught tickled something dark inside and added an edge of excitement to her innocent peek. He stroked harder, pulling his thick cock in sweet torture. The elegant lines of his face contorted in ecstasy and Belle responded in return.

  She slipped two fingers into her dripping channel, wanting and wishing for Roarke to take her. Belle closed her eyes and imagined the thick head teasing her pussy. She rubbed the sensitive slit, teasing and caressing. He'd enter her slowly, fucking her soft pussy until she came.

  Tension roiled deep within her core, winding her tighter until sparks of electricity shot to her folds. She bit her lip and moaned, desperate to finish with him.

  Roarke arched his back, the silver light of winter clinging to his skin like dust. Tension built in Belle's core, mounting to a desperate pinnacle. Roarke tossed his hair spreading his wings, the water sluicing off of them like a caress. He opened his mouth in ecstasy. Pale streams of cum shot from his shaft and she whimpered for a taste. A splinter of light caught in the myriad colors of his delicate wings and Belle gasped, her orgasm ripping through her, rocking her foundation and leaving her shaken. She rocked back on her heels and stared, still holding her quivering mound to ease the tremors. Roarke's wings were touched with the fire of all consuming passion, a mirror image of her own.

  She scrambled away from the bank and ran back to the bell, her heart slamming in her chest like a sledgehammer. What did it mean? She shuddered in need. His wings were glorious. A Faerie's wings were sacred. For most of their lives, they hung at their backs, folded and proper, or fluttered when they flew. Only during courtship did they ... Belle's cheeks burned in shame.

  Roarke's mate should have been the only one to see his wings. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but the image of his passion, his wings extended in all their glory, his cock shining and dark with gheji fluid, seared her mind, lodging there. Sweet goddess, how could such fire hide behind the stiff lipped jerk she'd come to hate so much? She'd never be able to forget.

  Her breath came in soft gasps of shock. No Faerie had ever extended their wings in her presence. Her mind clouded in pain and she bit her knuckle to keep her tears from falling. She touched the solid weight of the bell, trying to find her equilibrium. Through all of her lovers, she'd never once extended her wings in courtship. She'd let them vanish from her own back and her lovers had been amicable about it. Mostly. Up until this moment she thought they got in the way.

  She shuddered delicately and stared out over the city proper, confused and afraid that she'd never be able to touch another man again. Her grandmother had told her about the spell of lust that claimed a woman when shown the wings of a suitable mate. Was he the one? Her stomach clenched in a knot of anxiety and the steady hum of need toiled. Belle sat inside the overturned bell and brought her knees up to her chin, resting and wondering what the heck she was supposed to do now.

  * * * *

  Roarke caressed the softening thickness of his cock and stared at the place where Belle had sat, crouched. He extended his extra senses, tasting the heat of her orgasm. Steam rose from the melted snow where she'd fallen to her knees. Passion and fire. He shoved away the tangled skein of remorse clenching his heart. Four years he waited for her to mature. Patiently waiting for her to take the mantle of responsibility from her grandmother's shoulders. Memories of his arguments with her grandmother came unbidden to his mind. He sighed. He'd been mostly patient.

  From the moment he saw her fluttering around and making mischief, he'd been entranced. His father had warned him about searching for a mate. For their kind, the keepers of the law, there was only ever one. When it gripped you, it held you by the balls, squeezing and twisting its way into your heart. Only one Faerie could tame the fire burning through their soul. Only one. Instinct had yet to lead him astray. Belle was that Faerie. He'd felt her call when he had his awakening four years earlier. When his sexuality came to a painful awareness. He refused to think of the painful death that would grip him if we was wrong. And now, she'd need him just as much as he needed her. He extended his wings.

  Grim satisfaction warmed his heart. She'd want to know more. He flexed his wings and then waved them away. He moved to the deep water and cleaned the sweet nectar off his cock. The magick of the Fae was a curious thing. None but his people knew what kept it pure. Wishes. For every wistful thought, power flowed through his people. And it was his job to keep the magick flowing.

  He waded to the edge and rose from the water. Cold didn't affect his people like it did humans, so the chill of the air like a caress on his heated skin instead of making him feel like he was freezing. He slowly dressed, savoring the taste of her passion in the air. Goddess she was sweet. He licked his lips wanting it to be her covering hi
s mouth, her sweet pussy being fucked by his tongue. His eyes closed in ecstasy, his cock already growing hard again. Infuriating minx.

  It was time to tease the little Fae until she begged him for a taste.

  He let the soft silk of his shirt brush his sensitive nipples and grinned. She was going to wish for him to make her come.

  With a jaunty whistle he strolled to the large bell, determined to throw the Faerie into chaos, the same way she did to him every damn time he sensed her presence.

  He expected a pout and shameless flirting, maybe a little playfulness. His lips lifted with thoughts of all the different ways to keep her occupied. Roarke walked around the corner. The sight of her red-rimmed eyes and lost expression was like a punch in the gut. He paused and ran a shaky hand through his still damp hair.

  She glanced toward him and the blood drained from her face, leaving her pale and shaky before it rushed back to flush her cheeks in apparent embarrassment.

  Great job, jerk. Did he have it wrong? Had she left because his wings disgusted her? Roarke shifted on his feet and swallowed past a lump of fear. He hardened his heart against doubt and gave her a small smile.

  "Belle. How's duty today?” He winced inwardly against the stiffness in his own voice.

  Something close to humor flashed in those violet eyes before being swallowed again by trepidation. Her heart shaped face gave nothing away but she looked so lost with her chin tucked on her knees. The fall of her dress showed a creamy thigh. Natural sensuality. He shifted slightly to ease the thickening of his cock.

  Her eyes widened and her pink tongue darted out to lick the soft pink of her lips. He could smell the heat of arousal pouring off her skin. No, he wasn't wrong. Then what was it?

  "Roarke.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “What are you doing here?"