by Lana Gotham
And inside me, delicious pressure was building as the Vigilante crooks his finger and smiled at my readiness.
I moaned with pleasure.
This man, this killer that I didn’t know, awakened what I didn’t know was there. I’d always enjoyed sex. It had been a great stress reliever, and Jon was a good lover. A great lover, in fact.
Jon and I were expert players in our lusty games. We each knew our roles in lovemaking—but this—this unbridled feeling that escaped me in waves every single time the Vigilante touched me—this was new. I’d never felt this with Jon. Nor with anyone before him.
This feral, possessive passion was just as explosive as the sensation I’d dreamed about.
Every muscle in my body tensed with need as he worked his fingers roughly back and forth.
I trembled as release found me. A moan escaped from my lips, and unable to help myself, my hands fight against where he still has them grasped above my head. He released my hands, and moved to my breast.
I want him inside me. Now. I want his cock and I want it rough, rubbing and bucking in me. I want to fuck him to release. I want to fuck him so hard and so good that he never thinks of anything or anyone else. I want that sweet shudder of release. And I want him to give it to me.
He slid his fingers from me, and slowly pushed away my pants. I wiggle my hips to help him along, wishing he’d move faster. The slow pace is agonizing.
My Vigilante leaned down, and licks me over my panties before taking the crotch of the wet, cotton material in his teeth and breathing deeply. “I love your scent,” he said around a mouth full of my underpants. His tongue is wet and the movement against my pussy makes me shiver.
With his teeth, he pulls them down.
I gasp.
The Vigilante traces the side of my inner thigh with his tongue, and when there is no more thigh, he tastes me. His flat tongue licks over the width of my slit, from lip to lip, grazing against my clit, too.
I grasp his shoulders, pulling hard at the dark material of his shirt. The slow burn of earlier is gone, taken over by a frenzied, delirious lust. It takes every ounce of reserve not to press myself into him. “Mmmm,” I moan.
The Vigilante licked me again, then entered me with his tongue. Again, my back arched and I cried out.
Every muscle tensed and then released. And then does it again. The heat of orgasm rolled through me like a summer storm, but I wanted more.
I looked down at my masked lover to see that he’d unsnapped his own pants. I reached to push them down from his hips. This time he made no move to stop me.
He grabbed my ankles, and raising them into the air, pushing them over my shoulders until my pussy was open and exposed and his for the taking. He thrusted into me.
The sensation was sudden and hard. His cock filled me and I moaned.
His flesh pounded against my own with each long stroke. I wanted to come again. I wanted to come hard on him. I wanted him to come in me. He thrusts, his hands grasped tightly to my ankles, pushing them all the way to the ground behind my head.
I cried out in surprise as the movement changed the whole sensation. He fucks me this way hard and again the pressure begins to build. Right before I was sure I was going to come, he lowered my legs and flipped me to my stomach. He entered me again, this time grasping my hips and jerking them hard against him. He fucked me so hard, the noise of our bodies slapping together cut through the air.
He thrusts harder and harder, hammering me with his cock, and when I come, it was a sensation I’d never before felt. It began in my pussy but soon spread through my body in a hot, rolling wave. It makes me shudder and buck involuntarily, as if I was suffering from a body spasm. When I finished, I was useless. My Vigilante comes a moment later, wet and heavy.
He collapsed beside me, and I realized that he is still wearing the mask.
I roll onto my side to face the Vigilante, my masked lover.
His hands are crossed under his head and he is laying on his back.
I reached to lift the mask but he caught my hand.
He stared into my eyes for a moment, then nodded and released my wrist from his grasp. I slid the dark material of his mask up and away.
His features were chiseled and masculine, and contrasted with his laughing eyes. His hair was the golden color of the sun at noonday, and burned bright against his cool skin and crystal eyes.
I had never seen him before, this gorgeous stranger.
“Who are you?” I asked. GloryLand isn’t big. Any strangers who wandered in didn’t stay strangers for long before they were either greeted or ran out of town.
The man reached over and touched my cheek tenderly, and I can’t help but notice red dirt under his nails.
There is something familiar in his gaze. Something comforting in his touch. I know him. I am sure of it. A tiny pang of warning—fearful warning—sounds somewhere deep in my mind. There is only one place near GloryLand where you can get that shade of red dirt under your nails, but before I can ask him why he has been near Red Soot Mountain, he continues.
“You don’t recognize me?” He asked. “Not at all?”
I stared into his face, searching my mind. His face is foreign—it isn’t his looks that I remember. It is the way he stares at me, with an intense, quiet strength, much removed from the mischievous glint that danced in his eyes earlier.
No. I am certain I have never laid eyes on this man before. But at the same time, something pulled at me, as if I should know him. And that red dirt—that soot-like dirt... I shivered. Who had I given myself to?
I shook my head.
“Try harder, Little Wolf.”
I jerk away from his touch, and sit up. “Who are you?” I demanded. “Why did you call me that?” That nickname is private. Only one man called me that—ever. Jon. When was the last time I’d seen him? Had this man hurt him?
Instantly my blood turns into icy streams cutting through my veins.
Where did he hear my nickname? I panicked. What had I done? I had given myself to a murderer. How could he know Jon’s name for me? What had he done to Jon? To my best friend? Why had he been to the place that witches call home?
He smiled at me, this time the seriousness was gone from his eyes. Instead, they were again mischievous and laughing.
“I swear, if you laid a finger on Jon, you will pay!” I cried. The fact that I was naked hit me, and I scrambled to grab my clothes. Where was my gun?
The man stretched lazily, and then stood.
“Relax, Little Wolf. I’d never hurt anyone you love. You know this. You know me, though I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t recognize me. Not in this skin.”
I jumped to my feet.
“What do you mean?” I growled. I spot my revolver a few feet away. I clambered for it.
The Vigilante made no move to stop me.
“If it makes you feel safer, then yes, point the weapon at me. But you will not need it,” he said. “But first, let me explain. I did not hurt your Jon.” He said something under his breath, then made the sign of the witch over his heart and took a step backwards.
“Oh shit,” I hissed as I stumbled away.
The skin falls to the ground. There is no blood or gore, only a dry wrapper that looks like the blonde man I’d just allowed to take me in the moonlight. Standing tall in his place is my Jon.
“What the hell,” I said. “Jon? What is going on? What was...what was that?” I was both disgusted and angry. I was terrified and confused.
“Yes. It is me, Little Wolf.” He was serious, but smiling his small almost-smile.
“What just happened? What did you do to the masked man?” I remembered the red boot prints on our porch. I remember the red dirt under the Vigilante’s fingernails. Jon had made the sign of the witch on his heart.
I stare at the outline of a man lying on the ground, empty. Jon was a good 3 inches taller than the Vigilante had been, so there is no way that it was simply a disguise.
“It is a
n old magic, Little Wolf,” he said. His face was pensive, as if what he was about to say was going to cause him pain.
“But how?” I demand.
“I made a trade. On the mountain.
“Jon. No. Please tell me you didn’t.” I was horrified. “There is no way out when you deal with the devil.”
Jon looked somber and sighs. “Somethings are worth dancing with the devil, Little Wolf. I sought the man who stole my son.”
“On Red Soot Mountain? They gave you the killer? In exchange for what? Nothing is ever free from a witch.”
Jon looked at the form on the ground and frowns. “I asked to see his face. To know who my enemy was so that I could find him and make him pay. I’d never been able to get far on my own—no clues and no one to help. I was desperate, Little Wolf. You have to understand.”
“But Jon—”
He sighed and looked at the form lying near our feet. “They showed me alright. The man who hurt my family. The witches gave me the ability to take his form.”
“That person,” I point to the shell on the ground, “was alive? He’s the man who...who killed your wife? Who took your son?” Bile rose in the back of my throat as I realized what this meant. I’d just had sex with the discarded form on the ground.
“Please tell me I did not just make love with a dead man,” I said. “I can’t believe you let that happen. That man...that man is the man who hurt you. You let me give myself to a bad man.”
Jon reached out to touch my shoulder, but I jump aside. I do lower the gun, however.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Little Wolf. No. No that isn’t a man. I simply take his form. Like a disguise. It was...hard at first. I hated it. I didn’t use the disguise—but then I realized it was useful. I not only looked like the man who hurt my family but I sounded like him. When I was in his guise, I found it freeing. I could do things I never could have done before. I set out gathering clues, trying to get information. Everyone I killed—they were all bad—but they also held information as to who the Vigilante is and where he lives. I am about ready to journey to him. To rescue my boy.”
“You boy...he is alive?”
Jon nodded.
I absorbed this information a moment before plunging ahead. “Why did you seduce me in that form? Why wouldn’t you just tell me the truth?”
“I didn’t plan it. I promise I didn’t. That first night I saw you—I knew you were struggling with the case. You’d been so worried. So uptight. I knew people were beginning to talk around town and I know you hate it—”
“I don’t care what anyone says about me! They are all worthless.” I interrupted him, raising my chin defiantly.
“Even so, Little Wolf, I was worried things were going to take a turn. I thought if I just gave you some information to go on, that it would be enough. But magic is seductive. Seeing you there in the moonlight, unsure and on edge...I’d never seen that side of you. You were vulnerable to the Vigilante in a way that you never are with me, and I could feel the excitement between us. I should have told you, yes, but I got caught up in the thrill of it. I thought...I thought you might like it.”
My stomach twisted. I was angry at Jon—I had reason to be so. But I’d never heard so much emotion from his voice. He’d never spoken so freely with me.
“Little Wolf...I love you. I never meant to fall in love with anyone after I lost Isa. I thought you were a good woman. A strong woman. A good friend. I thought—I thought often—that that was enough and the best I could ever hope for. But along the way, something shifted. When Viktor threatened you—I had to kill him. That is when I knew without a doubt of my feelings for you. I lost my first love but I will never let anyone take you from me.
And then when I was the masked man—when I felt you respond to me—I was actually jealous. Which makes no sense and is confusing as hell. But I am laying it all out there for you. I was literally jealous of myself. But at the same time it was so exciting—to see you so unbridled. To not hold back. And then I started having these dreams...”
“Wait,” I said, his words startling me. “You had dreams? Of...us?”
Jon dipped his chin. “Yes.”
“Um. Of...all three of us?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes. How did you know that.”
“Because I had the same dreams. It was...well...I won’t forget them.”
A small chuckle—sounding strangely close to a growl—escaped Jon’s lips and I found myself smiling despite the fact that I was trying desperately to hang on to the anger that I knew I had every right to feel. But the more Jon stared down at me, all I could think about was how he’d just said he’d loved me...
He loves me.
Jon slowly took my gun from my hand and emptied it of its bullets, then tossed it to the side. It is a testament to how shocked I was. I have never let anyone disarm me before, but this was the second time it happened in one night.
“Jon...I think...” I began, then paused. Was I sure this was something I wanted to say? Did I mean it? I never had plans to love anyone...I loved my job and it was a jealous lover—it took over my life and demanded my time. If I admitted out loud how I felt to Jon, would things somehow change? Would he become one of those men who needed me to become someone that I could never be? Cooking in the kitchen in a skirt?
Fuck it. If I was being honest—I’d loved Jon for a while, but had been too hard headed to admit it even to myself. If something was going to change, if he had some hidden expectation, then it would have surely already come to light. And it hadn’t. What I had with Jon was honest and true. Well, honest if you didn’t count the fact that I’d fucked him thinking he was someone else and he’d let me...but for that moment I was choosing to ignore that because it was too hard to wrap my head around. And I had to believe that his intentions were pure. If there was going to anger, then I’d worry about it another day. For now, I was going to be honest about how I felt. “I think I love you, too.” As I said the words I realized they were truth. Jon was my best friend. He was my lover. He was my love. All of those thrilling feelings I’d felt with the Vigilante—they were for Jon. For the unknown. For something new.
Jon wrapped his long arms around me and kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. When he pulled away, I was dizzy, with spots dancing near the edge of my vision. The ground felt like at any moment it would shift and dance beneath my feet and I clasped his arms to keep from stumbling.
Next to us, the shell of a man began to blow away with the breeze, like pieces of gossamer web catching flight. I watched as the fragments curled and danced on the breeze like ash floating away after a fire has long ended. Yes, I definitely had reason to be angry—to yell and demand penance from him. And I would. Eventually. But at that moment, with my head spinning from deep kisses and revelations of love, another thought pushed its way to the forefront of my mind.
I knew exactly what dealing with the devil meant. “But...but if you made a deal with the witches...Jon, there is always payment. They don’t help people, especially men, out of the goodness of their hearts.”
“I made a trade. I have to complete my task or the trade is permanent.” He stepped away from me. Somewhere in the distance, Diana whinnied.
I could tell from his pinched tone that he was holding back.
“Stop doing that. No more secrets. Tell me all of it. What did you trade?”
“The witches hold my soul. They gave me three months to kill the man whose form I take. If I fail, then my fate belongs to Red Soot Mountain.”
Jon’s voice is as even as it always is, but he can’t hide his feelings from me. Not now. I see the worry in his face.
“What does that mean, Jon? Your fate belongs to Red Soot Mountain?”
“It means they keep my soul. I live my life...and then...”
“And then...if you die and a witch has your soul, then she has you forever. That can’t happen. We can’t let that happen! How...how long ago was the trade?”
“Two and a half months.”
“Jesus. That can’t be true. You are smarter than that.”
“I have the opportunity to save my boy. I am taking it. Little Wolf, this is something I have to do. No one, not even you, can stop me. Please try and understand.”
“But you have two weeks left! I can’t lose you!”
“And you won’t have to. Yesterday, when I was in the Daigle’s place, I again went through Mary-Anne’s things.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to me. It was addressed to Mary-Anne. I opened it. It was a love letter with a picture of the Vigilante. My stomach turned as I thought of my dream. Of the love I’d made with the Vigilante. True, it was Jon. And if things hadn’t gotten so complicated, I’d be pissed. But there wasn’t time for anger now. The letter gave the name of a ranch outside of Duthville, about eight hours away as the crow flies.
According to the letter the man was a wealthy ranch owner and had been carrying on a flirtation with Mary-Anne. I wondered if he’d gotten word of the wretched woman’s fate. No wonder there had been no struggle—Mary-Anne hadn’t seen an intruder, she’d seen her lover. A surprise death was too good for that woman. I’d have to ask Jon exactly what had transpired between Mary-Anne and her daughter. It would have to wait, though.
I refolded the letter. “What are you going to do? Track him down and then what?”
“I am going to kill the bastard.”
“But how do you know he deserves death? You don’t know the whole story. What if he has your son because, I don’t know, he found him and he needed help? You can’t just kill a man for no reason.”
“Things are way past that now. I don’t have a choice. Besides—do you not think I’ve done my homework? Trust me when I tell you that this man deserves death. Pain wouldn’t be wasted on him. And if he does indeed have my son—and the witches swear he does—then a painful death is exactly what I will deliver. I will get my boy. It has been two years. That is time I cannot get back—but I will do my best.”