by Marie Harte
She gave a weak laugh. “No, that’s you. I can’t believe you came twice like that. Are you always so…raring to go?”
“Ha. I like that.” He chuckled and then moaned as he withdrew. “I left a big mess. I wish I had the strength to go again.”
She heard him yawn. Finally. He was human after all. So much energy passed between them, yet the man had been capable of two massive orgasms.
“Need to…clean you up.” He rolled to his side but didn’t move again.
She heard heavy breathing and smiled. Then she felt moisture between her legs and swore. She hurried to find something to clean up with, determined not to sleep in the inevitable wet spot left by Mr. Studly.
Except she stumbled in the dark, suddenly fatigued between one breath and the next. Even the ground under her, still throbbing with power, couldn’t overcome her weakness. She managed to find her shirt and cleaned herself before returning to the sleeping bag and the human heater breathing deeply beside her. She had a hard time keeping her eyes open and decided to use him as her personal mattress.
Naked from the waist up, her jeans now around her waist but still unfastened, she pulled the sleeping bag over them and closed her eyes, hoping this newfound peace would last.
* * * *
Ernst Baer glared at his brother. The ass was fucking Nera in the town jail with the main door to the place wide open. Though most of the town had already gathered at Edda’s, their father might still come by and see. For all that Ernst believed in taking his pleasure wherever and whenever he felt like, he respected his father’s authority enough to know that the old man wouldn’t be pleased to see his son fucking the town whore in the same office where they conducted business.
Ernst crossed to the front door to shut and lock it, but he didn’t stop watching as his brother pounded Nera against the wall until he came. As usual, thoughts of sex brought Heather Wurtz to mind. Fuck if he’d been able to screw anyone without seeing her in his mind’s eye. Nera, Holly, even Bettina paled next to Ida’s beautiful niece. Great-niece, he amended.
How an old biddy like Ida could be related to someone as gorgeous as Heather still baffled him, but Heather’s connection to the old woman only emphasized how right she would look next to him. Sexy, smart, sweet, and a relation to one of the most powerful women in the village. Heather had finally returned to the place of her mother’s birth, and if Ernst had any say in it, she wouldn’t be leaving.
As usual, thoughts of Heather had him hard. His brother wanted her too, but Klaus always played second fiddle to Ernst. They both had power, but nothing like what their father could command. Ralf Baer could move things—and people—with his mind. A scary man to have on one’s bad side, but the old bastard loved his family. He wanted the best for his sons, and Ernst was his father’s favorite.
He stared at Nera, noting how she didn’t bother dressing when Klaus left to clean up. Instead she stood there, half naked with cum dripping down her leg, and watched him with knowing eyes. She wanted him, even though he’d told her they could never be. Her power was weak, her bloodline way below the first families who’d discovered the Source eight hundred years past.
“Funny how Heather never mentioned she had a boyfriend, isn’t it, Klaus?” she asked when Klaus returned fully dressed. She asked his brother, yet her bright eyes remained on him.
Ernst knew she wanted a reaction from him. He didn’t want to give her one, but he couldn’t help himself. He snarled, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Klaus answered, “She’s talking about that big bastard who arrived today. How did you miss that? According to Hans, you could feel the power seething through the guy. He’s not only fucking huge and muscled to the teeth, he’s also full of energy.”
“A good match for Heather, in more ways than one,” Nera added softly.
Ernst crossed to her and put his hand around her neck. In his rage, his erection grew larger. The lust and anger mixed, thoughts of Heather at some other man’s mercy stealing his control.
“Brother, hold on…”
Ernst ignored him. “You bitch. You’re lying. You’re jealous, because Heather is what you can never be.”
“Oh?” Her clever hands reached for his belt.
He felt her, knew what she did, but he didn’t care. She wanted him? She could have what he chose to give. He’d been with her enough to know what she liked, and what she didn’t. He pulled her from the wall and dragged her to his father’s desk. “Guard the door, Klaus.”
“But…” Klaus must have seen the look in his eye. His little brother knew better than to argue when Ernst was in a mood.
“Now, bitch, tell me what you think you know.” He prodded Nera for information. The woman knew everything, especially because she had a way with others, an ability to dig for answers. She would have known about Heather’s new friend the moment he entered the town. That he’d found them at all spoke much for his power.
“What will you give me if I tell you?” Nera had the temerity to ask.
He glared down at her, pleased when she swallowed hard and shut up. “I was working for Father today, cleaning up some nonsense near the gate. A few tourists wandered too close, and we had to bury them.” He smiled through his teeth at her. “Would you like me to show you where I buried them?”
The townspeople lived in ignorant bliss, so sheltered from the real world that they didn’t know what actually went on around them. Power corrupted, and the Source had been a virtual mother’s milk for centuries. Of course that kind of energy would leak beyond the psychic boundaries Jan and his family had made. So who did everyone look to in order to keep the peace?
The Baers. Death was a sacrifice necessary to maintaining the peace, and if a few tourists or Grainau locals disappeared every few months, so be it. Ernst’s father remained a hero by protecting their town, though his methods on how he did so were known by only a few, the town council included.
And now Nera knew.
The horror on her face pleased him, and he gripped her hand over his crotch and squeezed. “Don’t stop now,” he taunted. “We’re just getting to the good part. You’re going to tell me everything you know about this man.”
“Jack Harmon,” she said.
“Yes, this Jack Harmon.” He flipped her onto her belly and shoved her feet farther apart. His brother, the pervert, watched them without blinking. Little Klaus liked it when they played together. The more blood, the better, a notion Ernst seconded. They’d only ever played with tourists before, but Nera knew too much now. He’d have to make an example of her. But how far to take it would depend on her.
His cock demanded satisfaction, however. Thoughts of Heather plagued him still.
Nera remained silent as he stood behind her, unmoving.
“I thought I told you to talk.” He took himself out, letting his brother get a good look at what he intended. He pulled Nera’s ass cheeks wider, demanding entry into the place she’d begged him never to go again. “I can’t hear you, dearest.” He moved closer, loving this power, the rush of satisfaction growing stronger.
She sobbed and talked while he rutted without mercy, telling him everything and anything while Klaus watched with wide eyes. When Ernst finished, he cleaned himself up and left her sobbing in a huge, bloody mess. In a much better mood now that he had information, he nodded to his brother.
“Meet me at Edda’s. I’m going to take a good look at Heather’s new friend, up close. Besides, we’re celebrating tonight. And I’ll try to talk to Jan, if not tonight, then definitely tomorrow. I think it’s time we found out what the guardian of the gate has to say about our newest guests to town.”
“And her?” Klaus stared down at Nera with a strange fascination that both repelled and saddened Ernst to see. His little brother had always had a thing for the color red.
“Nera won’t say a thing, will you, dearest?”
She shook her head as she continued to cry silent tears.
“Fuck her, cut her, I don’t care.
” Ernst shook his head. “Just don’t let the scars be seen. You know what to do.”
Klaus grinned. “Excellent, brother. Can I kill her too?”
Nera shook, and Ernst thought she might have pissed herself, but he couldn’t tell with her sprawled in such a mess.
“Not yet. She can be of use to us, I think.”
She nodded frantically, and he turned to leave. He heard her say, “Please don’t hurt me, Klaus. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”
Ernst whistled as he left his brother to clean up their mess. He’d join his father and his beloved neighbors at the tea shop. Time to meet this powerful giant who thought he had claim to Ernst’s woman. Time to make the bastard pay.
Chapter Six
Jack woke better rested than he’d been in…well, forever. He shifted and heard a low moan that made his cock stiffer than steel. Morning wood, he thought, knowing he had to have gotten a few hours of sleep to feel so good.
As he tried to get a handle on what had happened after he’d laid down to rest, Heather murmured his name and stretched on top of him. He put a hand on her back to keep her from falling off, liking that she’d cuddled close in the night. But when his hand met bare skin, he froze.
She rubbed her cheek over his chest and sighed, and he gritted his teeth, because he wanted to roll her over and thrust deep, no questions asked.
Almost of its own volition, his hand moved, tracing her slender back, feeling the soft skin and strong spine of the woman not afraid to go toe-to-toe with him. For all that Heather was pretty, pleasant, and intelligent, she didn’t seem to know she shouldn’t fuck with his control.
The word fuck brought back hazy images of her stroking him, of him coming hard down her throat, of tasting her sweet flesh, then taking her all over again. She felt so warm against his chest. God, it had been so long since he’d actually slept with a woman. After Melissa, he hadn’t been able to bear sharing his bed, couldn’t trust himself to sleep with a potential enemy.
He’d planned on catnapping with Heather, nothing so relaxing as full-out REM. Jack could control his sleep patterns, another quirk of his abilities. Since learning that not even Melissa—his most trusted partner—could be counted on, he’d developed a thick skin for survival.
Yet…something felt off. He was different. Felt different.
Jack frowned and forced himself to stop stroking her back. “Heather, wake up.”
She mumbled something and squeezed his arm.
When she sighed his name, he found himself smiling. Smiling? Definitely something wrong. Yet instead of shaking the woman and demanding to know what the fuck had happened, he soothed her into a deeper sleep. “Dumb-ass,” he swore at himself before checking the time. His watch light showed the hour had reached eight, and he turned off the alarm before it beeped. They’d need to start moving again.
But… He didn’t want to wake her. She’d been a real trouper yesterday, even if she’d been dishonest about not wanting him. The woman could deny it until she was blue in the face, but she wasn’t a good liar. She’d suck at poker. Because the way she looked at him told him in no uncertain terms that she desired him.
He thought again about her going down on him, about her swallowing more than his cum but some kind of energy as well. Fanciful imaginings—or had the woman played him the way Melissa had?
Again, the rage that should have been there when he thought about that traitorous witch failed to appear, and he worried because he liked this new calm. It wouldn’t last, of course, but maybe Heather had done something to him to mute the emotion.
“And maybe I should wring her neck for fucking with my brain,” he said out loud, determined to stop being such a pussy. His internal thoughts weren’t like him, not at all. When he grew upset, he had no problem sharing his feelings. So why all this tiptoeing around Heather Stallbridge? The Jack Keiser of PWP legend would have strung her up by her fucking wrists and demanded she tell him the truth. He’d scare her into confessing all.
But the thought of hurting her literally hurt him. He would have rubbed his heart if she hadn’t.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’m here,” she said in words barely audible.
Yet Jack comprehended what she’d done. The damn woman had fucked with his head, and as he thought hard about it, he recalled all she’d said and done while he’d been out of his mind in la-la land, wanting a piece of her prime pussy.
He had to work to curse her to hell and back, when he still had a hard time being mad at her about it. Drumming up some anger she more than deserved, he forced himself to restore his inner shields. “Wake up.” He rolled and dumped her on her ass. Which would have been payback enough if the sleeping bag hadn’t slid off her, unveiling the nicest pair of breasts he’d ever seen. With the light of day giving him the perfect view of two beautiful tits, his hard-on throbbed like crazy.
“Jack?” She yawned and blinked at him, like a sleepy sex kitten begging to be fucked. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not.” He hated that he finally managed to look away from her body and got lost in her eyes. “I’m fucking calm. What did you do to me?”
“I eased your pain.” She smiled at him, and he wallowed in a heavy dose of love and lust that scared the piss out of him.
None of his feelings made a lick of sense. Nor did the fact that he was easing his pants down and watching her do the same. They didn’t speak as he lowered himself to her. He entered her in one smooth thrust and kissed her when she moaned his name.
Their rhythm spoke of lovers long known to each another. He pushed, and she pulled him closer. Their mouths meshed, and she flowed with him, giving while he took, submitting while he dominated.
Not frenzied or hurried, their lovemaking was slow, passionate, and all-encompassing as he moaned her name and came inside her, pouring into her while she squeezed him tight and cried out, cutting into his back with her sharp little nails.
When Jack’s brain returned from its hiatus to heaven, he glared down at her, irked to see her green eyes smiling.
“Good morning.”
He withdrew from her but didn’t move away. “Shouldn’t you have morning breath, at least?” She fucking still smelled like flowers.
Her grin widened. “You’re a coffee drinker, aren’t you? Caffeine addicts are the worst kind of morning people.”
Swearing, because he could use a cup of black joy, he rose and buttoned up his pants, then stalked out of the cave. He returned some time later, clean and awake, thanks to the very cold stream. She passed him with a pat to his ass that had him growling again. Although a part of him wanted to laugh.
She fucks with your head, and you’re happy about it? This is just like Melissa, only worse, because you’re not mad. Yet he couldn’t find it in him to be angry. Had to be the aftereffects from what she’d done. And just as soon as he could stop reeling from the pleasure from her fine body, he’d lay into her.
As he redressed and dug through his pack for their breakfast, she returned completely dressed in a sweater and jacket, her hair in a braid.
“Oh good. Food. I’m starved.” She glanced behind her at the front of the cave. “We’d probably better get going.”
He ate with her in silence while she chattered about the beauty of the country and her liking for Germany as one of her favorite places to go when not working.
Jack did his best to be patient, but he had to bring it up. “What did you do to me?”
“I, well, I healed you. Mostly.”
He fumed, yet even as he saw her guilt, he couldn’t help noticing her concern, and her empathy gratified him. “Without asking?”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could say I wouldn’t do it again, but I’m right now itching to take away more of your pain.” She clenched her fingers tight. “I don’t normally fix without permission. It’s not right.”
“No, it’s not.”
“But it’s…this place. The Source is driving me to use my abilities. The closer we get to it, the more I’m driven.”<
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He frowned. “How so?”
“You don’t feel it?”
“That power beneath my feet? In the air? Yeah, I feel it. But it’s not making me crazy. I don’t have the urge to beat anyone to a pulp. Well, maybe you,” he said in a low voice.
But instead of scaring her, the way his tone and mannerisms often worked on those he dealt with, she smiled.
“You would never hurt me.”
“Why? Because you have a hold on me now? You can control me?” His worst fear, and she fucking knew it.
Her smile faded. “No, Jack. Never. You told me about Melissa, and I know how badly she hurt you. I felt it.” She rubbed her heart, right over the spot where he felt a throbbing emptiness in his own chest. “Her attack left a psychic wound. That’s what I had to heal. It was wrong, not an emotional scar, because you have plenty of those. But it was an unnatural break in your energy.”
“I’ve never felt it.”
“Oh? Then you’ve always been such an arrogant, angry jerk?” She flushed when she said it, and he had to laugh.
“Jesus. Jerk is the worst you can come up with?” Yet as he considered her words, he knew he’d been much worse since his time with Melissa. He’d considered it his due to be such an untrusting bastard since being nearly killed by someone he’d considered a partner. But maybe it was more than that.
“I’m sorry I’m not as insulting as you’d like, but I’m telling you, you were never an ugly person. The leftover scarring from what was done to you hurt you emotionally.”
“Obviously.”
“But psychically as well,” she finished. “Now you’re calmer. You probably aren’t as angry about life in general.”
“Well, I did just fuck the hottest pussy on the planet.”
She turned a pretty pink, and he wanted to take her all over again. Not the best time to be a randy fool while in the middle of an operation.
“But, considering there’s been enough time for them to be coming after us, I guess we’d better go.” He finished eating with her, and they stood. He grabbed her wrist. “But don’t think we aren’t going to talk later about you taking too many liberties,” he said in a low voice.