by A C Warneke
Anytime he tried to ask her about it, her smile would become sultry and she’d distract him with sex. He wanted to comfort her but he was only a man and when she wrapped her hand around his cock he couldn’t think at all until she milked every ounce of pleasure from him.
If he wasn’t careful, he was going to become addicted to her.
If he was honest with himself, he would admit he already was.
When they got back to the manor it was nearly three in the morning and Jenna was buzzing with energy. All of the sights and sounds were still pounding in her head and she felt amazing; she never wanted the feeling to end. And Rhys continued to draw her deeper into his spell, weaving a web that was ensnaring her body and soul. As they climbed the stairs to the top floor, he looked at her with fire and lust in his eyes, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered without having to think about it, surprising herself with how much she did trust him. She felt young and carefree – alive – with him; of course she trusted him.
He brought her hand up to his lips, his warm breath moving across her knuckles as he smiled wickedly, “Good. Now, come; I’ve got something special planned for our last night in London.”
Jenna’s heart trembled and her belly hummed as she followed Rhys back to their suite. He kept looking at her with those heated eyes, making the butterflies in her belly go wild. There was a flash of dark craving in his eyes that thrilled her even as it made her a little apprehensive. But like the lust-filled fool she was, she followed him, wanting whatever he had in store for her.
“Come,” he whispered, opening the door to their room. Slowly, the door swung open, revealing a room filled with the warm glow of candle light. Rose petals were strewn across the floor and the bed, blood red against the white sheets. Soft, sensual music played in the background as the scent of candlewax and rose petals filled the air.
Tears welled in her eyes as she stepped into the room he had prepared. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she took in the whole room, noticing the black and red silk ties that were artfully interspersed across the bed with the rose petals. Her eyes flew to Rhys, who quirked up a wicked smile as his hot eyes burned through her. “I told you I wanted you tied to my bed.”
Her stomach hollowed out as a million butterflies vanished in fright. Slowly, he pulled the tight t-shirt off his body, revealing the naked splendor of his gold-kissed chest, the hard muscles and sculpted planes of his abdomen. Her knees wobbled as he continued to look at her with those smoldering dark eyes. His fingers flicked the fastening of his pants and her mouth went dry. But he didn’t remove his pants; he simply kicked his shoes off until he stood before her in nothing but a pair of denim jeans.
It was incredibly sexy.
“Jenna,” he purred, running his fingers along her arms, her shoulders. “Take off your clothes.”
Trembling, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and found Rhys’s hands already there, tugging the material up and over her torso. Raising her arms above her head, she held his gaze as he pulled the shirt from her body to reveal the silky blue bra that encased her breasts. Before he stripped any more clothes from her body, he cupped a breast in his hand and brushed his thumb over the nipple, making her moan in pleasure.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured, bending his head and taking the swollen peak between his teeth. He gently bit down on the silk-covered flesh and Jenna’s body stiffened in pleasure and she had to grab on to his arms to keep steady.
As he tongued her breasts, he unfastened her pants and pushed them down her legs, holding her steady as she stepped out of the material. Stepping back he looked at her in her bra and panties and smiled hotly, “Beautiful.”
Standing nearly naked before him, with his hot eyes raking over her body, she felt beautiful. The most charming, gorgeous man stood before her with an erection that was straining against the front of his jeans and he was looking at her as if she was his salvation and deliverance; of course she felt beautiful. Reverently, he took her hand in his and led her over to the bed. He continued to hold her hand and her eyes as she climbed onto the bed, shivers of excitement and nerves dancing over her skin.
Holding her eyes, he gently laid her back against a pile of pillows so she was at a slight incline; the scent of crushed roses filled the air. Taking one of the red silk sashes in his hands, he slid his hand from her shoulder to hand. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he kneeled on the mattress beside her. He wrapped the silk around her wrist and raised the arm above her head and lashed it to the headboard, stretching the muscle of her shoulder until she felt it but not so much that it hurt. Her heart raced in her chest; she was giving her pleasure into his hands and she wanted it and feared it in equal parts. Moistening her lips, she asked in a hushed voice, “What if I change my mind?”
“Dragon’s breath,” he murmured huskily as he took her other hand and repeating the action, tying it to the bed so her arms were firmly but comfortably bound. He ran his finger over the tip of her breast as he smiled down at her, “It’s a safe word; any time you say dragon’s breath I’ll stop immediately. Unless you prefer a different word?”
She swallowed thickly as he gazed at her with hot chocolate eyes. “It’s okay.”
“Say it for me,” he ordered, his voice rough with passion.
“Dragon’s breath,” she managed to whisper, her mouth dry, her sex wet. He lightly pinched her nipple making her shoulders tighten and her breasts thrust upwards; his smile was pure decadence. Licking her lips, she asked, “Why dragon’s breath?”
“It’s part of the thrill,” he purred, bending his head and trailing a line of kisses from her ear, down her throat, along her collar bone. “When you’re dying from pleasure and begging me to stop I know you don’t mean it; you’re simply lost in the moment. It heightens your pleasure when you beg.
“But if you say dragon’s breath I’ll know you’ve had too much,” he continued, kissing each breast, her sternum, dipping his tongue in her navel and making her squirm. But then he stopped and sat back on his heels looking down at her with liquid desire, “I’m asking you to trust me, Jenna; I know how much your body can take and I will take you to the edge and leap off with you.”
When he looked at her like that she could barely breathe. “I don’t like pain.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he vowed, cupping her cheek in his hand, his expression one of love and devotion. “I’d never hurt you. This is all about pleasure, love; your pleasure.”
Slowly, she nodded, not quite a hundred percent certain she was okay with it. She watched with wide eyes as he grabbed the black ribbon and put it over her eyes, tying it at the back of her head so she couldn’t see anything at all. “Rhys….”
“Shh,” he murmured, putting his finger over her lips. Without her sight all of her other senses were heightened; the anticipation sky rocketed: what was he going to do to her?
His hands reached behind her back and unhooked her bra and for a moment she wondered how he was going to get it off, if he planned on cutting it. She hoped not; it was her favorite bra – it gave her breasts more oomph. Then she felt him push the silky straps up her arms, leaving the material at her wrists. “I like the look of your bra dangling right where your arms are bound.”
Slowly, he trailed his fingers back down her arms, the touch light and almost ticklish. Goosebumps broke out all over her flesh and her nipples tightened just to the edge of discomfort. He hadn’t even done anything yet and she was ready to explode. She didn’t even care that her breasts were too small or her stomach was marred by stretch marks; Rhys made her feel beautiful and desirable.
Hot, moist breath followed the trail his fingers had left behind as he kissed her from her wrists to her shoulders, as he nuzzled her neck. “I could spend hours just kissing you, Jenna.”
Blindly, she turned her head to taste his lips, thrilled when he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with worshipful passion. His tongue moved against hers and in the dark all that exist
ed was Rhys; his midnight scent filled her senses and she was drowning in his kiss. She wanted to touch him but her arms were bound above her head and it struck home how helpless she was. Her belly tightened as her muscles strained against the ties.
“I want to touch you,” she panted as she tore her mouth from his.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he chuckled roughly as he moved his body lower, his lips brushing kisses along her jaw, her throat. It was difficult to protest when he worked magic on her body with just his mouth.
His fingers curled into the lacy straps of her panties and as he pulled the flimsy material down her legs, he ran his tongue along her skin, kissing and nipping as he went. Pulling against the restraints, feeling the stretch of her shoulders and arms, she wanted to pull the blindfold off and see what he was doing. She wanted to see the lost in sensuality expression that darkened his eyes when he was making love with her and she almost begged him to remove the blindfold.
He pushed her legs apart and when he kissed his way back up her legs he was between them, the rasp of his blue jeans rough against her sensitized skin. The heat of his breath along her inner thigh was the only warning she had before he gently spread the lips of her sex apart and delicately ran his tongue along her clit. Her body ached off the bed, pushing her harder against his mouth.
His hand pressed down on her stomach, holding her in place as he suckled and ravaged her with his tongue and teeth. She struggled against the bonds, her body trying to twist against his unrelenting sexual mastery. Gasping for breath, straining to get closer or maybe to get away, she almost screamed in frustration when he stopped the torment and placed a gently kiss on her inner thigh.
The bed shifted as he slid off. With her body strung to the point of shattering, she was shaking and confused. “Rhys?”
She could hear movement: the slide of a drawer, rummaging, the drawer closing. There were footsteps and then the bed shifting once again as Rhys sat down next to her hip. Grabbing her around the waist, he flipped her onto her back. A moment later warm liquid dribbled between her shoulder blades and she tensed, “What are you doing?”
“Shh,” he murmured, pouring more of the liquid onto her flesh. There was a soft sound as he put the bottle down and then his warm, broad palms were gliding across her skin, massaging her muscles in a slow, sensuous caress. With her body still vibrating from her near-orgasm, the slide of his hands over her skin was divine. He didn’t dig into her muscles, just gently caressed them, sliding his hands down her spine to her ass.
A little squeak escaped as he kneaded her bottom and she jumped, making the infuriating man chuckle. His thumbs pressed against the curve of her rear and then slid lower, to the swollen folds of her vagina. Her rear tilted higher, allowing him greater access to her sex and he gave a hum of approval from the back of his throat.
He massaged down her legs, lavishing attention on every inch of her skin until she was a puddle of goo held together by pliant skin. With the blindfold covering her eyes every touch was amplified and as he slowly worked his way over her calves, her knees, her thighs, she thought she may have died for a moment. His chest covered her back as his lips teased the sensitive skin by her ear, “Lift your hips, sweetheart.”
Somehow, she managed to get her liquid muscles to obey, lifting her butt back into the air. The head of his cock nudged her opening, sliding easily in to the wet depths. Lifting off her body, he grabbed her hips and buried himself deep inside of her. He thrust a few times and her butt arched higher, wanting him deeper. Her fingers curled into the silk ties, holding on as his body slid against hers, as he rode her hard.
And just as she was about to come, he pulled out, denying her again. This time, she did scream, “Rhys! Please!”
Still holding her hips, he flipped her over, maneuvering her legs so they were on either side of his hard body; so she was spread open to his gaze. The quick change in position jostled every cell in her body, taking the pleasure once again to the verge of pain. He shifted and then warm liquid splashed onto her naked midriff. Her body was vibrating with need and she thought she was going to die if he didn’t let her come.
Rhys started in with the slow, sensual assault again, massaging her stomach, her ribs, cupping her breasts in his hands and thrumming her nipples. Arching her back, thrusting her breasts against his hands, she begged, “Please, Rhys; I want to come; I need to come.”
“Do you want me to bring you to orgasm with my cock or my tongue?” he asked, his voice rasping against her flesh. When her brain short circuited and no words managed to come out, he whispered, “You better decide soon; the sun is almost up.”
The memory of how he tasted as a gargoyle, how powerfully she responded to the magical fluid, had her lifting her hips in silent entreaty. She didn’t care how he brought her to orgasm; at that point a light breeze would do the trick. The bed shifted and his thighs were pressed against her armpits; she felt the head of his erection against her lips. Without needing him to say anything, she opened her mouth and swallowed him whole, tasting herself on his pulsing cock.
He brushed her hair from her face and slid the hand behind her neck, holding her as he fucked her throat. “My god, your mouth on my cock is the most erotic sight.”
Swirling her tongue around the flange, she lapped up the fluid, feeling it burn through her body. Though it wasn’t as powerful as it was when he was in his gargoyle form it was still potent. As it made its way deeper into her system, little explosions started bursting and she was humping the air, desperate for that one little touch that would push her over the edge.
Her body was slick with oil and perspiration and she was so close. Rhys’s cock filled her mouth but it wasn’t enough. She jerked at the bindings, her muscles straining against the hold, desperate to touch Rhys, to touch herself and assuage the ache burning between her thighs. His body jerked and a rush of fluid filled her mouth, hitting the back of her throat as she swallowed, desperate for every drop.
He pulled his cock out with an audible pop, his fluid splashing against her breasts, her stomach as he moved down her body and pushed his pulsating erection into her, setting off the detonation that exploded every cell in her body. Her back arched as she strained against her bondage, as Rhys held himself deep, deep inside of her body, and she screamed as pleasure boiled her blood and set her on fire.
Chapter 13
After an early dinner with the London gargoyles the next evening, Rhys and Jenna flew down to Athens, this time as the only passengers since the Kiltes had stayed in London and Rahan and Maury took the flight to Crete. With two hours and a plane to themselves Jenna became a member of the mile high club, several times over and in some very creative ways. After all, seduction was the best way she could imagine to keep Rhys’s mind off of the fact that he was in an airplane to begin with. He seemed to like her methods.
As they hurried across the tarmac, Rhys holding her hand, he shouted out to be heard over the engines of the planes, “We should call home from the airport. My brothers here disdain modern communication; they prefer the old ways.”
“What are the old ways?” she asked, clutching onto Rhys’s arm just so she could caress his powerful muscles. Besides, her legs were still a little shaky from Rhys’s treatment.
He flashed a smile, his teeth very white in his face, “The usual: summoning spells, spirit walking, begging a dryad for a little magic. They’re also powerful enough to use telepathy, which is freaky as hell when you’re woken up in the middle of the day with your brother’s voice talking in your head asking how your night is going.”
Leaning her head against his shoulder, she called out, “I wish we could use cell phones; they have some that even make international calls.”
He grimaced, “Magic and technology aren’t always compatible and unfortunately that incompatibility extends to cell phones and satellite phones.”
She was sure Omari must have mentioned it before they had left but all of those conversations were a little fuzzy. As nice as it had b
een to not be tethered by a piece of plastic and it hadn’t been so long since she last called home she had to admit that she missed her daughter like mad. She wondered how Ferris was doing though she tried not to worry; she knew her daughter was in excellent hands.
She hoped Ferris wasn’t too much for Melanie to deal with. Of course, knowing Melanie, she was probably spoiling Ferris just to take her mind off Vaughn. She hoped her sister was doing all right, knowing that Lenni was tougher than she thought. And if all worked out as they fervently hoped, Rhys and Jenna would be bringing back a cure, or whatever it was, to restore Vaughn.
Jenna was giddy just thinking about it. She knew better than to get her hopes up but the pessimist had taken a definite backseat; now she was cautiously optimistic. And she felt as if a massive load that she hadn’t even realized she was carrying around had been lifted. It was hard work being negative all of the time; it fed upon itself until it consumed one’s soul.
Rhys held out the phone towards her, “Would you like to call Ferris first?”
Her lips parted in a brilliant smile and she eagerly took the phone. Realizing how exceedingly eager she looked to call home, she tried to temper her smile but she couldn’t. So she lowered her lashes, giving him a demure look and trying to act as if she wasn’t desperately excited to talk to her daughter, especially since Ferris was going to be heading to Florida with her grandparents in a few days. “If you don’t mind.”
He chuckled as he punched in the number on the old fashioned phone. The phone rang a few times before going to her parent’s answering machine. Disappointed, Jenna left a quick message to let Ferris and her parents know that they had made it safely to Athens, that they were going to be there for a day or two before they headed for the island, and that she’d try to call again when she got a chance.
Hanging up the phone, she tried to smile as she faced Rhys but it wavered. She was bursting with excitement and no one had answered the phone. “They weren’t home.”