Stone Romance (Stone Passion #2)

by A C Warneke

  “I want to feel your skin against my human body,” she growled, urging him closer by tugging on his cock. His chest brushed against hers and she arched her back, needing to feel all of his body against hers.

  In a frenzy of movement, he tore the scrap of silky material from her body and pushed his pants down just enough to give his erection room. Wrapping a hand around her thigh, he raised her leg and rested it on his hip before closing the distance between them and pressing his cock against her sex. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” she admitted, curling her fingers around the base of his skull and bringing his mouth down to hers. “But if you’re not in me in two seconds I think I’ll die.”

  “Well, in that case,” he grinned against her lips before claiming her mouth and pressing his cock into her sex. Her vaginal lips opened and stretched as he forged his way into her body, claiming her inch by magnificent inch. His tongue was luscious as it stroked against hers and his palm was hot against her bare ass as he held her steady.

  As he continued to slide his cock upwards, she wrapped both of her arms around his neck, holding on as he gave her more than she thought she could handle. Squeezing her eyes shut, a little whimper came from the back of her throat and he eased up a bit. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  She blinked and found herself drowning in pools of molten chocolate. “You’re so tight, Jenna, and it feels like a wet fist wrapping itself around my cock. I can feel your cunt stretching around me; can you take a little more?”

  Dazed, she nodded and he gave her another inch or so. Her vaginal folds were stretched tautly around him in a pleasurable ache; her body felt full and he still had more to give. “Just relax, my love, and I will give you everything.”

  Her legs trembled but she relaxed, feeling the length of his erection pulsing within her. Instead of filling her, he simply held steady, letting her body adjust for the final intrusion. She was panting as he held her on the fine line of pleasure and release; the knife’s edge that was almost painful. Moisture beaded his brow as he held back. Trying to squeeze her legs together was impossible with Rhys standing between them, denying her an orgasm as he intensified the pleasure he was giving her.

  “Rhys,” she rasped, desperate for all of him. She trembled as the pleasure began to crack around the edges and wash over her.

  At last, he pulled back slightly before surging forward, his grip tightening on her thigh as her body engulfed him to the root. His eyes closed as sheer bliss softened his features and he held himself still. “Do you feel it, Jenna? Your body is weeping in ecstasy, devouring my cock and fluttering around me.”

  It was incredible and she felt impaled; the pleasure bordered pain and she ached all over in the best way possible. He flexed his hips and she gasped as her muscles clung to him. “Open for me, Jenna; give me everything.”

  Lifting her other leg, spreading her sex further apart, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her butt was against the railing as he leaned into her, pressing ever deeper into her body. The faraway noise of the city, the damp tendrils of fog, the tangy scent of sex, filled her senses and she was lost as Rhys thrust in a gluttony of sexual appetite.

  Her orgasm tore through her, burning up everything in its path and leaving ashes in its wake. With nails digging into his shoulders, she arched her back as every muscle convulsed in ecstatic rapture, the agony going on and on until she was sure she had died. Through a haze, she felt his body stiffen, heard him cry out, and then she was gone, lost in ecstasy.

  “Rhys?” Jenna’s voice trembled only a little. After waking up from an orgasm-inducing coma she was surprised to find she could talk at all. And at some point, he had carried her to their luxurious suite and lay down on the plush bed, draping her across his hard body. She was surprisingly rested, which she should have been considering how much she had slept. She wondered if he slept, if he even needed to sleep. Idly drawing images on his chest with her fingers as he stroked her bare back, she murmured, “We should probably get ready to go; your brothers are probably furious with me right now.”

  He was quiet for so long she thought he might have fallen asleep, despite the gentle touch of his fingers on her skin. Tilting her head back, she saw that he was awake and he was smiling down at her. She loved his smile; it just made everything brighter. Relaxing against him, she felt her own loopy smile forming in automatic response. His grin widened as he shook his head no, “They understand. But I agree, we do need to get ready if you want to take in a few of the sights.”

  “Now I’m torn,” she said on a sigh, enjoying the steady rhythm of his heart, the warm heat of his body. It was nice just being held in his arms and feeling safe, protected. While the rest of the world spun recklessly out of control, she was with Rhys, a man who could make her laugh and make her... happy. “I have wanted to travel for as long as I can remember but I never actually went anywhere. When I was child we didn’t go very far because my parents were busy with the chocolate store and then Jeremy….”

  She hadn’t meant to even mention Jeremy’s name; it just sort of slipped out and she tensed. It probably wasn’t good form to mention the names of previous lovers after having sex for the first time with a current lover. But Rhys made her forget the walls that she had erected; he felt like he was a part of her life and that she could share anything and everything with him. It was still probably a good idea to save talk of Jeremy for when they weren’t basking in post-orgasmic glow. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shh,” he whispered, never ceasing in his gentle strokes, soothing her and offering comfort. His lips pressed against her head and she felt his smile, “There is no need to apologize to me, not ever, Jenna. Jeremy is a part of what makes you you and his memory should be honored.

  “We’ll talk about him when you’re ready, okay?” he asked, making her want to weep tears of wonder; what did she do to deserve such a compassionate man?

  “Rhys,” she sighed, kissing the warm, salty skin over his generous heart. “You are a far better person than I am.”

  His laughter was a balm to her soul and she smiled, finally at home. After another moment, he leapt from the bed and pulled her out, “Come; let’s get dressed and see what debauchery my brothers have in store for us tonight.”

  Dressing quickly, throwing on jeans and t-shirts, and a sweater in Jenna’s case, they exited the room and found the three London brothers leaning against the door with perfectly bored expressions on their coldly beautiful faces. Altaire dragged a slow, leisurely perusal up and down their bodies before smirking, “Ah; so the lovers have decided to join us this evening.”

  “We were beginning to worry when we didn’t hear screaming,” Bar murmured casually, glancing at his perfectly manicured nails as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “We thought perhaps Rousseau had lost his ability to truly please a woman.”

  Ignoring their commentaries, Jenna cocked her head to the side as she looked at the three brothers, her nose crinkled in confusion, “Why do you call him Rousseau? I thought his name was Rhys.”

  “My name is Rhys,” Rhys said next to her, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her against his hard body. ‘But when I came to them I was Rousseau; at least that is what my mother named me.”

  Rowan snickered, “It means red-headed.”

  Jenna glanced between Rhys and Rowan and smiled; though they both had red hair, Rhys’s hair was closer to auburn whereas Rowan’s hair was vibrantly, almost unnaturally red.

  “Now come,” Bar said, stepping forward and taking her hand in his, looping her arm through his. Caught between two large men, Jenna surrendered to their whims, trusting that they weren’t going to create too much discord and may even show her some of the lesser known areas of London. “The night is early and the city awaits.”

  Chapter 11

  “I think my brothers like you,” Rhys murmured as they lay naked in the bed, once more with Jenna sprawled on top of his hard body.

  After staying up all night hitting the various c
lubs and bars, as well as being slightly drunk and physically exhausted, she still had too much mental energy to fall asleep. Even another round of sex had only taken a slight edge off her vibrating brain cells. Luckily, she was content just listening to the sound of Rhys’s heart beating; she was addicted to the rhythm of his heart knowing that as long as she could press her ear against his chest and hear the steady pulse everything was going to be all right.

  “They liked getting me drunk,” she corrected, drawing lazy circled on his chiseled chest, toying with the silky hairs there. “I have had more shots tonight than I have had in my entire life; I’m surprised you didn’t have to carry me home.”

  “I did carry you home,” he chuckled.

  “Oh,” she said with a slight frown, her fuzzy brain recalling something along those lines. “I guess you did. I think I must have thought I was flying.”

  He chuckled, hugging her tighter. In such a short time she had grown absurdly comfortable in her nudity, finally embracing the small but exquisitely sensitive breasts that Rhys took such great pleasure in. She loved the slick feel of his naked flesh sliding against hers; she loved sleeping on top of him when they managed to sleep at all during the night. He radiated so much heat that a blanket would be stifling, even in a somewhat drafty manor in the middle of winter.

  How had she ever believed that magic didn’t exist? Lying in Rhys’s arms she could forget everything she left behind and pretend that this was all that was. She knew that it was childish and irresponsible but for a little while she just wanted to lose herself in a sea of bliss. The world she left behind would still be there and by the time she returned from this amazing trip she was going to be completely rejuvenated, ready to face reality once again.

  She enjoyed meeting his brothers even if they were less than pleased by her presence. They were unfailingly polite, if not a little distant, but it didn’t matter because Rhys made sure that she was included in everything that the four of them did. When they had tried to drag Rhys into an exotic strip club for supernatural creatures and other immortal beings, Rhys had gained her admittance by claiming she was his human. He had worn a guilty expression and his brothers had snickered but he explained that it was the only way to make sure she was admitted.

  “What does it mean to be your human?” she had asked, watching in fascination as his blush deepened.

  “It means you’re, uh, my pet,” he stammered, not quite meeting her eyes. “Pets are allowed in to these clubs because of the services they provide.”

  “Generally, a human pet provides sex to his or her owner,” Rowan explained, wrapping his arms around a stunning girl whose hair was even redder than his own. Holding Jenna’s eyes, he lasciviously added, “Among other things. And afterwards their memories are wiped. Standard procedure, don’t you know.”

  Jenna could imagine the other things, considering some of the things she had witnessed in that club. The debauchery was beyond anything she had imagined, with bodies writhing everywhere, in pleasure and in pain. Whips, chains, hooks….

  Everyone had been unnaturally beautiful and the three London gargoyles fit right in. She would have felt out of place except for the fact that she was the center of all of Rhys’s attention and at some point the carnality around them disappeared into the background as they sat at a booth in the corner and talked about nothing and everything.

  “Do you know how stupid it is for me to fall in love with you?” she asked softly, tilting her head back and looking at his handsome face. “I mean, it’s really, really stupid.”

  Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his hot body, he kissed her forehead, “Then don’t think about it as falling.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion; she was still a little drunk but her head wasn’t that muddled. “Then how should I think about it?”

  “As soaring.”

  Resting her chin on his sternum, she murmured, “But what about the crashing and burning that comes at the end?”

  “Who says that there has to be crashing and burning?” His eyes moved over her face as he brushed a strand of hair from her temple, as he cupped her cheek.

  Her heart thumped painfully in her chest but she ignored the stupid organ and crinkled her nose. Grinning saucily, running her foot along his calf, she felt his penis lengthen and harden against her thigh. He sucked in a breath and his eyes went almost black and she knew that she could have taken the easy way out, inflaming his desires until they succumbed to physical passion. Instead, she blurted, “The Fates. They like to give me everything I could ever want and then take it away in a heartbeat.”

  “Ah, Jenna,” he breathed, brushing his thumb over her lower lip. “I wish you had never known such pain.”

  Her smile wobbled as she kissed his thumb, “Do you want to know what bothers me the most?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she held her smile to keep from crying and murmured, “Losing Jeremy nearly killed me but if I hadn’t lost him then I wouldn’t be here with you and that knowledge will drive me mad if I think about it too much. I can’t imagine never having you in my life….”

  Lowering her hand, she wrapped her fingers around his penis and slowly stroked, the thick flesh pulsing against her palm. “But I don’t want to think about that, Rhys; I just want to be here, with you.”

  “Jenna….” He tried to protest before a low moan was wretched from the back of his throat. When she continued to caress him, his head fell back and his eyes closed as he strained towards release. His hips rolled slowly and he was thrusting his erection within her grip, groaning in pleasure. Jenna thought his cock was so beautiful, with its corded length and gleaming plum-shaped head. And it was the perfect way to distract him from things she’d rather not think about.

  Pressing her thumb against the weeping slit, she smeared the fluid over the flange, her belly vibrating with excitement. She wanted to please him; take him into her mouth and learn the taste of him; anything to keep her in the moment and not dwell on what might have been.

  Sliding down his body until her mouth was next to his erection she tongued the honeyed fluid, and hummed in approval. It was ambrosia, salty and slightly sweet, like chocolate-infused seminal fluid. She swiped her tongue once more along the length, enjoying the taste of his skin, loving the taste of his pre-come. “I’ve never tasted anything like this; since you have semen does it mean you’re capable of having children?”

  “Uh, no,” he mindlessly groaned, his hand moving and resting on top of her head. She took the tip of his cock into her mouth and moaned as its girth stretched her lips and pressed against her tongue. His cock filled her mouth completely and she had to inhale through her nose, filling her senses with Rhys’s intoxicating scent. His breathing was ragged and his hips began to undulate faster. “Gargoyle sperm is incompatible with… Oh, man, that feels incredible.”

  “Mmm,” she murmured, devouring his penis, the delicious pre-come, enjoying the sounds that were coming from him, the groans and heavy breathing. She curled the fingers of her free hand around his thigh to hold steady as she tightened her grip on his penis and took more and more into her mouth. Lost in a sea of carnal delight, she tried to take him down her throat, to swallow him whole.

  “No!” he cried out, his hips shuddering beneath her but not in orgasm. “God, not now!”

  Startled, she pulled away, her eyes widening in horror because she had done something wrong, because she enjoyed it too much. She was about to scramble off the bed when his fingers wrapped around her wrist and he held her in place, the color leeching from his face. Her worry that she screwed up was replaced with terror that he was sick. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s dawn,” he rasped, his voice sounding as if it his vocal cords were being tumbled with rocks.

  At first she didn’t understand, her brain befuddled with lust and terror but then she remembered he was a gargoyle from sun up to sun down. And as she watched in frustration and awe, he changed from man to stone beast. His thick, auburn
hair receded into a scalp that was quickly changing shape; his lovely, gold-kissed skin became marble gray, his muscles tripled in size, swelling rapidly; his nostrils flared, his ears grew, his mouth split open. With a groan, he stood up, taking her with him as he shot up two feet, as two stone wings sprouted from his heavily muscled back. They stretched outwards, filling the room as he extended them to their full, ten foot width.

  Her eyes widened in alarm as her gaze dipped to his erection and she watched in fascinated horror as his penis grew and grew and grew, until it was the size of a baseball bat. Inquisitively, she reached out and gently ran her fingers along the long, rigid length. Looking up, she had to tilt her head back much further than before; as a man, he was very tall; as a gargoyle, he towered over her, easily eight feet tall. She caught his guarded expression as he looked at her, his face that of a stone monkey. Reverently, she ran her fingers over the carved lines of his face, the stone skin smooth and burning beneath her touch.

  He looked like marble but his skin was hot and living to the touch, almost like contained lava and if she closed her eyes it almost felt as if she were running her hands over flesh and bone instead of carved marble. As she drew her fingers over the sharp ridges of his cheeks and brow, the flaring nostrils and protruding ears; as she stood up on her toes and ran her hands along the broad spread of his muscled shoulders, over his sculpted chest and ripped abs, her stomach clenched in desire.

  Hoarsely, she whispered in awe, “You’re beautiful.”

  He laughed, the sound gravelly and rough. He reached out and cupped her cheek with his broad stone hand, nearly covering her face. “Forgive me.”

  “Why?” she seriously didn’t know why he would be asking for forgiveness.

  “I lost track of time,” he admitted, a rueful expression on his stone face.