His groan rumbled in his chest as she pumped him with her warm hand. Ah, Christ, he could so easily go over just by her touch. He wanted her so much. Needed her so damn badly.
“Tess, come on,” he breathed against her lips. “Inside. I gotta get inside you. Please, baby.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. With a few graceful movements, she positioned herself over the tip of his erection then sank down, covering him in wet, hot ecstasy. His head kicked back against the cushion as his hips arched, seeking to go deeper. Eyes closed, he reveled in sensation.
He felt the smooth skin of her ass hit his thighs then leave again as she pulled up, working herself on his shaft. Long, slow drags up and down, the grip of her sex decadently tight.
Hands on her hips, he held her but let her control the motion. She knew just how to move to drive him insane with desire. To heat him from the inside out and make his blood boil lava hot.
He had to see her. Forcing his heavy eyes to open, he let his gaze take in her expression of longing, lip caught in her teeth, and the soft exhalations of breath with each movement.
His gaze slid down to her slim neck, where her pulse beat wildly. Leaning forward, he let his mouth settle over that pulse, feeling her life’s blood pulsing under her skin. So strong.
She gasped as he bit her, unable to help himself. She smelled too damn good; he just had to taste her.
Skin. He needed more skin.
Pulling back, he gripped the waist of the dress and drew the whole thing over her head. When he tossed it away, he had unfettered access to her breasts, full, plump, and beautiful.
He bent his head and fastened his lips to her breast. Such beautiful, tight nipples that he nipped and bit and suckled as her hands dug into his shoulders. He focused on loving her breasts while she rode him, trying not to fall over the edge too soon.
Which became increasingly difficult when she picked up her pace, slamming down on him in jerky, fevered motions.
Too much, way too much sensation, too much feeling. Too good.
When she gasped and froze, he sucked her nipple hard and used his free hand to flick at her clit. Her head fell back, her shout of completion the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard.
So fucking wonderful. He groaned as he jerked and released in her warmth. And the whole damn house shook as a blast of pure power rolled from them in a wave.
As his cock continued to pulse inside her, he tightened his arms around her warm, limp body as he tried to catch his breath.
She sighed against him, her warm breath brushing against his neck as she shifted. His arms went rigid around her, crushing her against him, terrified she would disappear.
“Oh, Cal. It’s okay.” Her arms slid around his neck, her skin soft on his, like silk. “I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”
His heart started to race and his lungs couldn’t get enough air. Christ, he shouldn’t be having a panic attack now.
But what if he was still dreaming? What if he’d finally lost it, even though he could feel her sheath snug around his cock and her breasts pressed against his chest?
“How? Tessa… Oh fuck, can’t breathe…”
“Shh,” she whispered against his ear. “I’m right here. Cal, sweetheart, take a deep breath. You’re going to pass out.”
Yeah, that was a distinct possibility and wouldn’t that be a totally wimp-ass thing to do.
Tessa eased back from him but kept her hands on his shoulders. Her gaze shot from his chest to his eyes and held there.
Tessa. Thank the Gods, it was her. He framed her face in his hands and pulled her close to lay his lips on hers. “What happened?”
“The Involuti healed me and sent me back.”
“Just like that?”
He felt a smile curve her lips against his. “No, of course not. There’s always a price, but I would gladly pay it again.”
He pulled back so he could see her face. “What was it?”
She stared straight into his eyes, her fingers kneading the tight muscles of his shoulders. “To take me out of Charun’s grasp, they had to remove that part of me that he wanted.”
He drew in a shocked breath. “They removed your powers. Tessa, Christ—”
She shook her head, laying her fingers over his lips. “Not all of them, no. I retain my midwifery duties. That power was never as strong, and Charun didn’t covet the ability to bring healthy children into the world. He only wanted my ability to control the sun’s path.”
And she’d given that up, her control of the sun. For him.
“I love you. I didn’t want to live without your heat. I’ve been so damn cold.”
Her smile widened. “But I thought Cimmerians didn’t feel heat or cold or pain.”
“You make me feel, Tessa. Only you, and I don’t want to live without it again.”
“You won’t have to. I’m not leaving you again.”
Then his eyes narrowed. “What about Charun? Are they going to do anything to stop him from going after the other goddesses?”
“I honestly don’t know. My time in Invol was like a dream and I don’t remember much of it. I don’t even remember seeing the Involuti. It was like… they didn’t have true form. Like they were ghosts, spirits. There but not really. It’s just so hard to explain.”
“Then it doesn’t matter. It only matters that you came back to me. And if Charun decides to take another shot at you, we’ll be ready.”
Her smile brightened her expression. “I don’t think he will. You were able to defeat one of his demons. You’re strong and he knows that. I don’t think he’ll risk another demon. Especially now that I’m of no use to him.”
He brought her lips down to his again, worshipping his goddess. “Tessa, I promise to love you so much more than you’ve ever been loved you won’t miss the sun.”
Her smile would always be warmer than the sun to him. “I love you, Cal,” she said. “I won’t miss the sun as long as I have you.”
Acknowledgments
Although I may write in a vacuum, I couldn’t exist in one.
To my parents and brother for their unfailing love.
To Judi for sharing her mostly full glass.
To Deb for commiserating with my half-empty glass.
To April for more than I can repay.
To my agent, Elaine English, thank you, thank you, thank you.
To my editor, Deb Werksman, for seeing promise.
To Adele and Marilyn for much more than lunch.
To Daria and my Valley Forge Romance Writers sisters for chocolate and hugs and smiles.
To Carole and Suz and Grace because you had me first.
In memory of Sheila Conway, taken before she could realize her dream or say, “See, I told you so.”
About the Author
Stephanie Julian is the author of three erotic romance series, Ellora’s Cave: the Magical Seduction, Lucani Lovers, and The Fringe. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and Valley Forge Romance Writers and is a freelance entertainment and lifestyle feature writer. Stephanie lives in eastern Pennsylvania.
Read on for an excerpt from
How to Worship a Goddess
Coming December 2011 from Sourcebooks Casablanca
Chapter 1
Some days, it didn’t pay to get out of bed.
Especially if you happened to be a once-powerful goddess and you’d just spent the last half hour on your hands and knees cleaning the clogged drain in your bar.
Lucy Aster, still known to an ever-decreasing circle of followers as Lusna, Etruscan Goddess of the Moon, had filthy hands, stains on her shirt, and at least one streak of grease on her face.
So, of course, the door to Howling Wolf opened and a young voice called to her.
“Lady Lucy, are you here?”
The girl knew she was. Catene Rossini Ferrante was lucani, an Etruscan wolf shifter whose sense of smell was ten times better than any human’s. Catene had been able to scent her from outside.
But
Catene was nothing if not polite and respectful. A beautiful young woman in every way.
Stifling a sigh that Catene would also detect because of her enhanced hearing, Lucy straightened from her crouch, pasting on a pleasant expression for the girl who had the brightest smile this side of Thesan, Etruscan Goddess of the Sun.
“Hello, Catene. How are you, sweetheart?”
The girl dropped into a curtsey when she caught sight of Lucy.
Catene’s lustrous copper hair dipped over her shoulders as her blue eyes lowered in deference. “I’m fine, Lady. I just… I was in the area so I thought I’d stop to say hello.”
The girl was an absolute doll. Too bad she couldn’t lie worth a damn.
“It’s nice to see you, sweetheart. It’s been too long.”
Of course, Lucy could lie. She’d had so much more practice.
Lucy hated that she had to lie, but she wasn’t happy to see her. She adored the girl but Catene represented Lucy’s worst nightmare.
“I’m so sorry, Lady. I’ve been so busy—”
“That wasn’t a rebuke, dear.” Damn it, Lucy felt like she’d kicked a puppy. “Only an observation. Now, what can I do for you?”
Catene blinked and Lucy knew exactly why she was here. Sympathy made her stomach twist into knots. Young love really did suck.
“Tivr’s not here.” Lucy said it as gently as she could. “And I don’t know where he is.”
Catene tried to hide her disappointment, tried to keep her smile from faltering. She managed, for the most part. She might have fooled someone else.
But she couldn’t fool Lucy. The lucani were hers. More than two thousand years ago, she’d given a small village of Etruscans the power to transform their bodies from human to wolf. And for that, they continued to worship her. Even if she no longer deserved it.
Life was too damn complicated.
“Oh.” Catene bit her lip and nodded. “I’m sorry, Lady. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
At least in this she could respond honestly. “You’re never a bother.”
Only a reminder of my obsolescence.
The girl’s smile rebounded and Lucy felt her black mood lift, even if it was only a little.
“Thank you, Lady. I just… Thanks.”
With a wave, the girl headed back out the door, bright hair flowing behind her.
Lucy stared at that door for several seconds, making sure she heard the girl start the bright yellow muscle car she and her father Kyle had rebuilt from the tires up, and peel out down the lane away from the bar.
Then, with a muffled screech, Lucy grabbed the first thing within reach.
The wooden bowl of peanuts on the bar didn’t stand a chance. She flung the bowl across the room, where it hit the wall and shattered, peanuts and splinters falling to the floor in a pile of debris. She reached for a second bowl but forced herself to stop.
Great Mother Goddess, she needed to get a grip. She’d been losing control more often and—
Well, damn. She was an idiot. The full moon approached. No wonder her mood swings were worse than a teenaged girl’s.
She really needed to get laid. Sex would go a long way to soothing her mood. But like everything else in her life, sex would have to wait. At least, for now. She had a business to run.
With a huff, she got the broom from behind the counter and cleaned up the mess she’d made.
Too bad she couldn’t sweep her mistakes away as easily.
“Hey, Mom, everything okay?”
Tivr stuck his head out the door from the back room, sharp gray eyes narrowed in concern, short dark hair spiked in every direction.
Her child looked as though he’d just stepped off the stage of a metal concert in his sleeveless black T-shirt and ragged, skin-tight jeans. With muscles any bodybuilder would be proud of, Ty appeared to be only twenty or so in human years.
In reality, he’d been born more than two millennia ago.
Which, yes, made her even older. And no, she’d stopped counting birthdays long ago.
“I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “Just dropped a bowl. And covered your ass with Catene.”
His lips quirked in a smart-ass grin she loved with every fiber of her being but his eyes… oh, those eyes held their own secrets. “Yeah, uh, thanks. How’s she look?”
“Beautiful, of course.” She let Ty drift in the breeze for a few minutes before she took pity on him and switched the subject. “Are you here to go to the game with me tonight?”
Thank the Blessed Mother, there was a Railers game tonight. The minor-league hockey team filled her winter nights with hot guy-on-guy action.
She loved hockey. Loved the speed, the agility. The fights.
The men.
Brawny, sweaty, messy. They let their hair grow, though no one would ever accuse them of being feminine, not with perpetual five o’clock shadow and bulging muscles. They skated with the grace of a ballet dancer and fought at the drop of a glove.
Who didn’t love hockey? Especially these past two seasons—
Ty shook his head. “Can’t go tonight, sorry. Told Caeles I’d cover for him in here. The band has an early gig but he’ll be here later for your set. I’m sure you’ll find someone to take.”
As Ty ducked back into the kitchen, Lucy knew he was right. Every night, she surrounded herself with people. Men, women. Mostly her lucani. They brightened her nights and helped keep the loneliness at bay.
After so many millennia, the nights could become interminable. Yet, for the past two seasons, she’d looked forward to each game.
Because of him.
Her chest tightened and she had to work to draw in a breath. How ridiculous was it that just the thought of him could make her sex clench and her lungs tighten with desire.
Brandon Stevenson. Six two, two hundred. Born 6/10/76. She could recite his stats in her sleep, which was a pitiful thing to admit, she realized.
Brown eyes the color of dark chocolate. A crooked smile that could taunt another player into throwing down his gloves or make a woman’s heart race. Dark blonde hair cut short enough to be conventional but long enough to run fingers through.
She entertained dreams of stripping his sweaty uniform from his body, piece by bulky piece, exposing broad shoulders, ripped abs and strong thighs. And every other piece of gorgeous flesh in between.
Railers No. 17 ignited something inside her that she hadn’t felt in… Well, never.
It confused and confounded her. Vaffanculo, she’d never even met the man. Truth be told, she’d been reluctant to approach him. Didn’t want to discover how truly deep her attraction to this eteri, this regular human, was.
Coward.
Yes. With good reason.
Her powers had steadily declined over the centuries, as had all of the Forgotten Goddesses. They were still immortal. But now they were useless.
Case in point, five months ago, when Charun, the Etruscan God of the Underworld, had begun to terrorize Sun Goddess Tessa in her dreams. Her sister goddesses had been unable to help her.
Now bright, sweet Tessa had been missing for weeks. Lucy sincerely hoped Tessa and her Cimmerian bodyguard, Caligo, had holed up somewhere safe. With a bed. Tessa needed someone to take care of her.
Lucy had been taking care of herself for years. She wasn’t frightened of Charun. Bullies tended to pick on weaker prey and Lucy had never been weak.
But she was obsolete.
Her wolves no longer worshipped her, not as they once had. And both of her sons were of an age where they didn’t need her. Ty hadn’t for longer than she cared to remember. Caeles, adopted when he’d been only a few days old, hadn’t truly needed her for almost two decades, the blink of an eye in an eternal lifetime.
And even though her boys still paid lip service to her maternal instincts, she knew the truth.
She had become obsolete in more than one way.
Sighing, she checked the clock. Only an hour until she could leave for the game.
And wat
ch the man who made her hot and wet between the thighs for the first time in a very long time.
***
“Hey, old man, you get that bump checked out last night? You got knocked into the boards pretty hard. Your old, brittle bones can’t take a beating like they used to.”
“Stevie, you need to take more care. We wouldn’t want to lose you now, not when you’re actually playing better than you have been in years.”
Brandon Stevenson tossed his bag in his locker and gave a finger to the twins. Jason and Thomas Fransechetti were barely twenty-one years old. Baby-faced bruisers who weighed more than two hundred pounds, stood six feet tall and had blazing wrist shots from opposite wrists.
The Terrible Twosome, as they’d been dubbed by the Railers, were identical except for the length of their wavy brown hair—Jase’s cut short and Tommy’s to his shoulder. The only other way to tell them apart was by their scars. But they had to be naked to see them.
The puck bunnies made a habit of cataloging those scars.
“Fuck off, children, and let the adults get ready for the game.” Brand swallowed a smile as the boys followed him anyway. “Or do you need me to tie your skates for you?”
“Fuck you.” Jase’s fist shot out to Brand’s shoulder. The kid didn’t pull his punches but Brand shrugged off the hit like it was a fly. At thirty-five, twenty-five of those years spent on the ice, his body had sustained more damage than a professional boxer. He knew how to control pain.
“Maybe Grandpa Stevenson needs his nap.” Tommy chimed in. “Or maybe you just need to get laid. Christ, how long has it been, anyway? Why don’t you come out with us after the game? We’ll hook you up good.”
Brand rolled his eyes and shoved his elbow in Tommy’s chest. “The girls you pick up can barely spell their names. Why the fuck—”
“They don’t need to be able to spell. They only need to—”
“Jesus fucking hell, don’t you two ever get tired of fucking? You’re like little fucking machines.” Goaltender Shane Conrad walked into the locker room and smacked Tommy on the back of his head. “Have some respect for your elders. At least get Stevenson a woman his own age. ’Course, that’d mean you’d need to hit the early bird specials to find any.”
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