Stone Romance (Stone Passion #2)

by A C Warneke

  Now, Rhys’s chest virtually ached with love and it terrified him. He told outlandish tales just to make her laugh, a sound more beautiful than a host of heavenly angels singing. It scared him how he found serene joy in simply holding her as she slept, feeling her slight weight as she sprawled across his body in contented slumber, or when she was awake and they talked about everything and nothing. As he carried her home from a night out enjoying London after dark.

  He loved trailing kisses along her shoulder, her neck, kissing her lightly until she stirred; blinking her beautiful eyes in confusion before focusing on him and giving him the sweetest smile. He drowned in her eyes, which were the most striking shade of blue, seeing farther into his soul than he was comfortable with and he wished she’d see further still. She was so finely crafted it was a wonder she could take all of his cock into her lissome body; it was if she were crafted especially for him. So far their sex had been pretty vanilla; he was afraid of scaring her off if he introduced her to his darker needs too soon.

  But she had made love to him as a gargoyle. Even if his cock hadn’t entered her tight cunt they had made love. There had been no preparing him for the intense pleasure he felt when she touched him as a gargoyle; when she tormented his stone cock with her mouth.

  She looked up at him, her expression bright as she smiled her sweet smile, “You’re very quiet this evening, Rhys. Have I bored you to tears already?”

  “On the contrary,” he crooned, reaching out and cupping her cheek in his hand, loving the feel of her soft skin against his palm. He loved how her eyes darkened and her breathing changed when he touched her; she wanted him with the same desperation that he wanted her. He doubted he would ever grow bored of her, not when he hungered for her so desperately. Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, “I think I’m going to tie you to my bed tonight.”

  Her lips parted and she inhaled sharply, her eyes darkening even more even as a blush stained her cheeks. Those luminous eyes darted to each of his brothers sitting across the table and then to Zin, the small pixie who was serving their food and listening to the conversation with keen interest.

  Zin’s wings beat rapidly as she hovered by the table, her purple-rose eyes too large for her slender elfin face. Long strands of purple and rose hair twined and twirled down her slender back. She was braver than most pixie, despite the tales told by other pixies to keep them safe from humans. Zin had no qualms about serving Jenna and urged the others to be braver, that the human wasn’t going to try to capture them or eat them.

  Zin was of the opinion that only brown-eyed humans ate pixies and Jenna had blue eyes so she was all right. Rhys had tried to correct her on her misinformation; generally humans didn’t eat pixies at all. But she insisted that brown-eyed humans devoured pixies in their spare time; when they weren’t busy lying in wait for foolish leprechauns so they could steal the pots of gold, or any number of evil things.

  There was simply no reasoning with Zin and her fear of brown-eyed humans.

  As Zin flew about the room, Rhys leaned closer to Jenna and whispered, “Don’t worry about my brothers; they’re not paying any attention to what we’re discussing.”

  “It’s safe to assume that it wouldn’t take much to figure it out,” she countered saucily. He loved how she was blossoming right before his eyes.

  He chuckled as she lowered her lashes, brushing his thumb over the soft ripeness of her rosy lips. Glancing down, he watched the pebbled peaks of her nipples strain against her damp shirt. Ignoring Zin, his brothers, the other pixies, he brushed his other thumb over one of the taut buds and lowered his voice to a husky growl, “I think the thought of being bound to my bed excites you. I think you’re getting wet just thinking about it.”

  Her blush deepened but she raised her lashes and looked at him. The tip of her tongue touched his thumb and it was his turn to draw in a harsh breath. She leaned forward and for a moment he thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, her slender fist wrapped around his cock beneath the loose material of his pants and he hissed in pleasure. Brushing her thumb unerringly over the tip, she smiled a sultry smile, “As if just thinking about it hasn’t made you hard enough to ravage me right here and now.”

  He put his hand over hers as she continued to stroke him, loving the brain-frying sensation of her hand on his cock. Without thinking, he pushed his pants down just enough to free the ravenous beast, wanting, needing, to feel her hand on his naked flesh. Her eyes darted to where Zin still hovered, the little pixie’s eyes lit with knowing amusement. He didn’t care.

  Rowan appeared behind him and put his hand on Rhys’s shoulders in a brotherly grip, “We’re heading out soon; the two of you joining us again?”

  “Of course,” Rhys agreed easily. “We’ll be there shortly.”

  “Don’t forget about us and start fucking again,” he grinned. “There’s a club we want to hit before all of the tourists show up. And you might want to put your dick away; we generally frown on fucking where we eat… unless there’s a party. Then it’s all right.”

  “Okay.” After watching his three brothers saunter off, he turned back and saw Jenna watching him with a slight frown.

  She tugged at her hand and reluctantly he let her go, amusement and denied release twisting him up. Chuckling, he tucked his cock away and shrugged, “I suppose we can’t spend all of our time together making love.”

  “Unfortunately,” she said primly, folding her hands in her lap, a slight smile curving her lips as she took a bite of the food. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes and he could see the sparkling laughter in the deep blue pools of her eyes, “Of course, if we were to spend all of our time making love then I would also get to enjoy you when you’re a gargoyle and when would I sleep?”

  “If that were to happen I don’t think I’d be able to walk by the time we reached Greece,” he teased, though he was more than a little serious. “And once we arrived I doubt you’d be able to carry me through Athens to get to the docks and the boat that will taking us to mother’s island.”

  She cocked her head to the side and asked, “Your mother has an entire island to herself?”

  His lips parted as he realized something very important: he hadn’t told her who his mother was; just that she was a gargoyle. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, taking her hand in his, ignoring her tempting breasts and his unruly cock. She watched him with an open and curious expression, totally oblivious to the bombshell he was about to drop. “Um, my mother is, er, Medusa.”

  She simply stared at him for several long, drawn out heartbeats. Catching her lower lip between her pearly white teeth, she arched a single, elegant eyebrow, and remarked with suspicion, “Medusa is your mother.”

  “Yes.” He nodded his head, desperate for the ability to read her thoughts, at least about this. For the most part, he much enjoyed discovering her bit by bit but this was too important; it was his mother. “Medusa.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she hummed, abusing her poor lip by chewing on it. Reaching up, she placed the back of her hand on his forehead. “Damn; I can’t tell if you’re running a fever or not because you always run so hot. Are you sure you’re not ill?”

  Grabbing her hand, he brought it to his lips, holding it there as he spoke, “Medusa is my mother, Jenna; the myths surrounding her are simply that: myths.”

  “Um, your mother is a myth,” she remarked with bemusement.

  “Sweetheart, you’re having this conversation with a gargoyle in the penthouse suite of a group of gargoyles with pixies serving a meal prepared by a demon,” he grinned, pleased when her fingers curled just enough so she could touch him with their tips. “Is it really that hard to believe that my mother is who I say she is?”

  “Yes?” she faltered, her expression clearly stating her befuddlement. “It’s just, well, Medusa. I’ve known about her since I was a little girl and read about her in a book of mythology that Lenni had checked out of the library.”

  “Wh….” He had to clear his throat before he
could continue, absurdly nervous to hear the story from her luscious lips; even more nervous to see her reaction. “What myth did you read?”

  “After the first tale I tried to read all of them,” she said, shaking her head a little, clearly a little dumb-struck. “My favorite, and the most tragic, was the story of her falling in love with a god and being cursed by a bitter goddesses who was jealous of her beauty and their love. The jealous wretch turned her into a hideous beast that turned men to stone with a single look and then the witch encouraged the hotheaded Perseus to kill her.

  “Medusa’s story fascinated me and I have always believed she got screwed over,” she huffed an incredulous laugh as she gaped at him. “You’re telling me that she wasn’t killed by some punk and she’s your mother?”

  “Yes.” Relief flooded him as she spoke so fervently on his mother’s behalf and while her version contained some truth but it wasn’t the complete story.

  Her hand slammed over her mouth and her eyes widened in alarm, “Oh, god, don’t tell me you and your brothers are the sons of that union.”

  “Okay,” he said carefully, watching the color leech from her face in an imitation of his gargoyle when he returned to stone. “But I think you already know the truth.”

  “But you told me you were only a few hundred years old,” she wheezed, having difficulty with grasping the reality of his existence. “The myth of Medusa has been around for thousands of years.”

  “It’s part of the curse,” he admitted softly, wondering how much he would be allowed to tell her before the fates stepped in and stopped the words from coming. Unless they had no intention of stopping him, which was worrisome in and of itself; what was their intentions? “The myths were created for her protection. For our protection.”

  So far, they had been amazingly lenient; perhaps it was because of the journey they were taking and the fates wanted her to be prepared. It might have been better for Vaughn and Melanie had the fates not been so stingy when they were courting. He remembered how fiendishly curious Melanie had been, and how little information any of them had been allowed to give her. But he doubted it would have made a difference; the girl had been hopelessly in love with his brother from the moment they met.

  At Jenna’s questioning look, he moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, “My parents are given a few years together when the stars align or the planets come together, or some such nonsense, every five hundred years. And they always have three sons.”

  “Three gargoyles,” she clarified. “Like you and your brothers?”

  He nodded, “Yes. And before you ask, my London brothers are the result of my mother’s and father’s time prior to my pod of brothers. We joined Artaire, Bar and Rowan in London when we were still young and then we arrived in the New World when we were old enough to guard our own territory.”

  For a few minutes he talked about the changes that he had witnessed in his lifetime as she listened in rapt fascination. Knowing that there wasn’t a lot of time to go into a great deal of depths, he just highlighted the wonder of the past century, going from horse-drawn carriages to driving in cars to flying in planes to travelling in space.

  “So, your mother is a gargoyle, too?” she asked tentatively, her eyes wide and her pupils large. “Of course she is; you told me that on the plane, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” he answered simply, watching her as she picked up her fork and pushed the food around on the plate. “You can imagine what her gargoyle form is.”

  She slowly nodded her head, her eyes troubled as she took in everything he was telling her. Her face was so expressive He could see the wheels spinning and it was fascinating; she had such a quick mind and it enchanted him. He could have saved the conversation for when they were closer to the island but he knew that she would need the time to absorb everything and be prepared.

  “Can I get you anything else, Master Rhys?” Zin asked in her crystal clear, high-pitched voice.

  “I’m good,” he grinned, patting his stomach. For the first time in his life he was too nervous to eat anything more. His brothers would be shocked. “Thank you, Zin.”

  The little pixie turned to Jenna, her purple-rose eyes growing even wider, as she breathlessly asked, “And for you, human?”

  Jenna blinked and looked at Zin, staring at the small creature for a moment in bewilderment before she returned to the present. Her lips curled into a smile but her eyes were still troubled, “Oh, no; thank you.”

  “Perhaps a plate of fruit?” Zin offered, obviously reluctant to leave the human.

  Jenna’s smile relaxed and she nodded, “Um, sure.”

  Zin beamed, buzzing away to gather a fruit tray, her hair fluttering about her wings. Within moments she had returned, bearing a platter over flowing with exotic and not-so-exotic fruits. With an elaborate flourish, she set it on the table, her eyes darting to Jenna to gage the human’s reaction. When Jenna smiled her approval, Zin puffed up in pride. “If you need anything, just holler for a dog.”

  “I think you mean whistle,” Rhys corrected.

  “No, holler,” Zin countered, opening her mouth and letting out a piercing whistle. As Jenna and Rhys slammed their hands over their ears, Zin smiled in self-satisfaction, “See? Holler for a dog.”

  “Yes, quite,” Rhys grumbled, giving the point to the pixie; her holler was very much a whistle.

  “Very clever,” Jenna said and the praise puffed the pixie right up. Zipping off, her body practically vibrating with excitement from conversing with a human, Zin disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “I think my ears are bleeding,” Rhys muttered, sticking his finger in his ear canal and juggling it a bit.

  “Zin is adorable,” Jenna chuckled easily. “She makes it easier to adapt to this new world.”

  “It’s older than you can imagine,”

  “Oh, I can imagine,” she grinned, her eyes twinkling. Then her lips parted and her eyes widened in astonishment, “Gorgon and gargoyle… I could see how the pronunciation could be altered throughout the years. Very interesting.”

  He chuckled, grateful that she was easing her way into his world with relatively few problems. Omari must have lowered her inhibitions slightly by giving her the medallion that she wore all of the time. Every now and then, she would touch it and not even realize she was doing it. Omari had told him it was a protective charm, but Rhys suspected it was so much more. Unless there was another reason Jenna was adjusting to her new reality so well… he just couldn’t think of one.

  She scowled, “If your father is a… well, a god, how can they be kept apart?”

  “Well, she is of the night and he is of the day,” he explained poorly. There were so many truths and half-truths he wasn’t sure where to even begin. It didn’t matter, not really; in the end his parents loved one another from afar, taking lovers as needed or wanted and savoring the brief moments of time they had together.

  “What?” she chuckled, “Is he the sun god Apollo?”

  “Um, yes?” he admitted reluctantly, knowing she was still getting used to Medusa being his mother. “Though, of course, he goes by a different name now.”

  “Of course,” she muttered, the color once more gone from her cheeks as she stared at him. “It still doesn’t make sense; he’s a god, he should be able to do as he pleases.”

  He couldn’t help but smile, “The mythical world has its own rules and curses play large roles; so many of the great myths revolve around curses. Fortunately, it is also difficult to create a truly unbreakable curse so it’s important to learn nuance and to be very specific. My parents found a loophole in the curse and they use that time to make up for the hundreds of years they spend apart.”

  Jenna blushed prettily as her taut nipples betrayed her lascivious thoughts.

  “Before the curse mother could transform at will and they would spend their days together, frolicking and fucking and whatever else they did. But after, she was confined to a stone body during the day and he was banned admittance to
her island, except for the five years they are allowed to be together.” He paused to make sure she was following since she was oddly quiet. “Because we are gargoyles, we are stone during the day and men at night. Because we are the sons of… Apollo we are men at night and not gargoyles.”

  “I…see.” Her nose crinkled slightly in confusion and he leaned forward and kissed the tip of it. Grabbing a slice of mango, he slid it between her parted lips, smiling as the juice dribbled down her chin and she gasped, effectively ending the conversation before she thought too much about it.

  “Mother will be able to explain it better,” he grinned, leaning forward and running his tongue over her skin to clean up the juice, tasting her in the process. With his lips next to her ear, his nose nestled in the soft, black silk of her hair, he breathed in her delicate scent and murmured, “Shall we take the fruit back to the room so we can finish getting ready for another night out?”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she smiled, sliding her hand into his, sighing as he kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear. They stood up and, judging by the wide eyes and parted lips, he surprised her by handing her the platter of fruit. When she arched her eyebrow at him, he swooped her up into his arms, steadying her as she struggled between holding onto the tray and keeping her balance. “Rhys!”

  Kissing the tip of her nose, he grinned, “I’ve got to build my strength up, sweetheart; we only have a few days left until we arrive on Medusa’s island.”

  Grabbing a slice of fruit, she stuffed it into his mouth, stopping his sensual promises before he could make them again. He adored her but he was concerned; the Fates were being awfully generous with their information. And Jenna herself was struggling a little but she refused to admit to having any problems. She’d smile as if she hadn’t a care in the world and yet her eyes were troubled.