Gargoyle's Mate

by Nia K. Foxx

  Effortlessly, he lifted her against the wall, moaning his satisfaction into her mouth when she wrapped her long legs around his waist. He trailed hot kisses down her neck, dipping his head to take one rigid nipple in his mouth. She dug her hands in his hair, arching her back in offer for him to take more.

  “Is this what you want?” he mumbled around her nipple after giving it a firm tug. The sensation traveled down her body further inflaming her already pulsating core.

  “Yes,” she whimpered, wanting to touch him, have him aching the way she did. There had to be a law against what he was doing to her with his tongue and teeth, sucking her until her hips rocked of their own volition. She was on the edge when Lorn redirected his attention to her neck again.

  “You are mine,” he ground out. “Say it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it.” He suckled her neck firmly.

  “I’m…I’m yours.”

  “Forever.”

  “More,” she begged.

  She felt the sharp prick of teeth penetrating her delicate skin, the pain only accentuating the peak she could no longer prevent. She yelled her orgasm into the echoing room.

  Fatima didn’t remember him turning off the shower or them coming back into his bedroom, but there they were, slightly damp on his bed, while he lazily rubbed a hand up and down her stomach.

  “What happened?”

  “I believe some call it the little death,” he answered, watching her reaction.

  “Did you bite me?” she asked, her hand reaching up to touch the soreness on her neck.

  “Did it hurt much?” he queried.

  She shook her head.

  “Good, I don’t want to ever cause you pain.”

  Her heart warmed to him even more. What was it about this man?

  He pinned her with a hungry look. “I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t have you, ma cherie.”

  “We can’t have that.” She smiled coyly, wanting him more than she wanted anything in her life. Before he could stop her, she straddled his waist with her thighs, bending to give his surprised mouth a delicate kiss.

  “Fatima, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I disagree, Mr. De LaRue,” she said before silencing him with a kiss meant to show him just how wrong he was.

  Fatima took full advantage of his surprise, eagerly moving her lips over his, darting a teasing tongue in his mouth. She was torn between watching his responses and losing herself completely to their kiss. Prompted by his acquiescence she became bolder in her actions, dropping down the mere inches needed to rub her warm core against his length.

  “Damn,” he grunted against her lips, his hands going to her hips to still her sensuous movements. “You’re not ready.”

  “Like hell I’m not,” she objected, not sure how she managed to wiggle free from his strong grip. She gave him one last long kiss before sliding slowly down his body, trailing kisses as she went. At his navel she dipped her tongue in gently, circling the damp orifice before moving further.

  “Fatima, I can’t allow this.” His words were firm but his reaction wasn’t quick enough to deflect her from her target, and what a wonderfully large target it was.

  Certainly she wouldn’t be able to get all of him in her mouth, but she’d damn sure be willing to try. She tasted his cock with a flick of her tongue before firmly grasping him with one hand. Shouldn’t her fingers be able to touch? She wondered briefly.

  “What are you doing, woman?” he growled, as she eased her mouth over his tip, only able to take a small portion of the veined appendage. Steadily she worked her mouth over him while pumping the rest with her hand. She let her tongue trail over his shaft’s thick base, lapping him as if he were her favorite flavored Popsicle. She would have returned to sucking if he hadn’t managed to maneuver away from her inquisitive mouth.

  “Are you trying to make me spill my seed in your mouth?” he demanded.

  “There’s a thought.” She smiled up at him, encouraged to know she had him so close.

  “You are turning out be quite the vixen,” he commented, reaching for her.

  “I’m trying. After all, I’m learning from a very apt teacher,” she agreed.

  “Well, why don’t I educate you on my version of the alphabet.” He lay back again, bringing her on top of him.

  Ready to question him about the whole ABC thing, she was startled as he slid down between her legs until she hovered just above his face.

  “Hold on,” he warned, wrapping his arms around her thighs to pull her down.

  “Oh my,” she gasped when his tongue came in contact with an already excited clit. Bracing her arms on the massive headboard as Lorn did wonderfully erotic things to her sensitive nub, she tried to maintain some semblance of control while he caressed her over and over. She looked down in aroused awe as his mouth dived in; his lapping tongue was intent on strumming her into frenzy. She couldn’t last long. She rode his face while his tongue alternated between plunging into her creaming canal and licking on her hard nub.

  “Ohh… I’m gonna come!” she screeched as the orgasm took hold of her. She rode the wave out until the end; pumping against his vigorous tongue.

  With the haste of a man at his limit, he flipped her onto her back in one easy movement, positioning himself above her. He pushed into her in a painstakingly slow motion, her sheath stretched to accommodate his girth.

  Fatima exhaled bit by bit as he entered her, pressing forward for what seemed like forever until met with the impending barrier. His cock jerked inside her but he didn’t attempt a full breach. She realized he waited for her to become accustomed to him.

  “Don’t stop,” she encouraged.

  “Thank you,” he growled, retreating slightly only to plunge balls deep inside her. His grip on her waist was steadfast, keeping her anchored for his plundering cock. The obstacle surrendered easily to his sure movement. Her price was piercing pain radiating from her core and momentarily blocking out her earlier pleasure.

  Above her Lorn stiffened again. His features were a contortion of sympathy and unrequited fulfillment. She knew he would wait however long she needed to accustom herself to him but she wanted to end his torture. She thrust her hips upward lodging him even deeper inside her. She didn’t realize she could be so totally filled by another person.

  He made a sucking sound between his teeth. His gaze searched hers as if for further confirmation.

  “Please,” she managed glad to feel the pain subsiding.

  He moved then, slow shallow thrusts which deepened with each stroke of his cock. Her earlier soreness forgotten she basked in the budding pleasure he was creating. She lifted her hips to match his downward thrusts. She throbbed from the friction he created. Her nails sank into his back as she frantically increased their pace.

  “Uugghh, woman, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

  Fatima was beyond words; all she wanted to do was give in to the tension curling through her.

  “Mine…all mine,” he roared as his climax slammed through him. He pumped into her harder, shooting his seed into the deep recesses of her womb. Her own completion wasn’t far behind, causing her to cry out again while her contractions milked him dry.

  ***

  Fatima’s first conscious thought was she was alone in bed. She eased herself up in bed and realized she was alone period. Her stomach growled in empty protest. She was hungry and thirsty. Wow, they really had work up an appetite. Her eyes widened as she stared unblinkingly at the bedside clock. It was already at 5pm. Lorn probably got tired of waiting for her to rouse and went on a food binge himself. How in god’s name had she slept for so many hours? The time couldn’t be right. She slipped to the edge of Lorn’s bed searching the area for her nightshirt. There was nothing. Well she wasn’t going to risk running down the hall naked when the staff was everywhere. She scanned his room quickly taking in a door-less archway that probably led to a retreat room or something similar.

  One thing was for certain, s
he wouldn’t find anything just sitting in bed. Her scavenger hunt didn’t get off to the best start; when she stood it felt as if all the blood rushed from her head and escaped to parts unknown. She wavered then slouched back on the bed. After a few deep breaths she tried again but frowned at her unsteady stance. What was wrong with her? Determined more than ever she ignored her wobbly legs.

  “One of these has got to be a closet,” she muttered aloud going to one of the three doors she spotted. Door number two gave way to a walk-in closet spacious enough to make any woman drool, but Fatima didn’t linger over the spaciousness as she eyed the familiar female clothing hanging on one side of the room.

  “Why…?” She thumbed through several items. They were all hers! Everything she’d brought with her from LA was neatly hung or packed away in drawers. She grabbed a spaghetti-strapped sundress, sliding it easily over her naked body.

  What was going on? She ran a hand over wild hair. She wouldn’t be able to do much without a comb and brush, but right now getting some answers was more important.

  She padded down to the lower level on bare feet, not sure in what direction to go she hoped she didn’t get lost in some area no one would ever to think to look for her.

  “Lorn,” she called from the base of the stairs in as loud a voice as she could muster.

  “Madame, what are you doing out of your bed?” Pierre came scurrying into the hall. She was happy and irritated to see him all at the same time. Where was Lorn?

  “First of all, I wasn’t in my bed, but I think you already know as much, Secondly, I would like a word with Mr. De LaRue.”

  “Come; let me help you back upstairs. Monsieur De LaRue is meeting with members of the Council and cannot be disturbed,” he said hurriedly, trying to guide her back upstairs.

  “Members of the Council?” He hadn’t mentioned anything about a meeting.

  “Look, if you’re trying to run interference for him, don’t bother. I’ll find him myself.” She whirled around, thinking the library might be a good place to start. She felt light headed and the sudden movement had her grabbing onto the base of the stair railing to regain balance.

  “Madame, you really need to be in bed,” he repeated.

  “Why are you calling me that,” she bit out. The term was designated for married women and she was certain he knew she didn’t have a husband. She closed her eyes against the spinning room. After several seconds she tested everything by opening first one eye then another.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Lorn,” she demanded.

  “Madame, he is unavailable –“

  “It’s okay, Pierre.” A man exited a door from somewhere behind him, all the while regarding Fatima.

  She stared back, unable to mask the amazed look on her face. If she didn’t know better she would have sworn Lorn had aged about thirty years, and quite well. Pierre bowed out gracefully but not before he threw a disapproving look in her direction.

  “So you are Fatima,” his thickly accented voice greeted.

  “Yes.” Her brows furrowed.

  “I am Krail De LaRue, Lorn’s father.”

  “Sire, I’m certain she is able to put two and two together.” Lorn exited through the same door followed by six other imposing figures.

  Good Lord, had the whole De LaRue clan converged on her, and why did they all have to be giants? Very, very handsome giants.

  “You should be in our rooms resting,” Lorn, dressed in jeans and a pullover stated as he came to stand beside her.

  She looked to the group of silent men, before registering his comment.

  “About that,” she began in a whisper meant for his ears only. “Why are my things in your room, just because we… you know… doesn’t mean --”

  “See, the woman hasn’t chosen him,” a voice boomed from one of the men.

  Chosen? What did he mean by the comment?

  She looked at Lorn questioningly only to find stormy green eyes fixed coldly on the man who’d spoken. He stepped part way in front of her, obscuring her from view.

  His voice was deceptively calm as he said, “I’ve already confirmed with you all; the choice has been made.” He paused, waiting while each man nodded his acknowledgement, all but the author of the earlier outburst.

  “I’ll rejoin you shortly after I see to the comfort of my…Fatima.”

  His Fatima?

  “Let’s go upstairs.” Lorn turned to her, continuing the calm tone he’d used to address the other men.

  “I think I’ve had enough sleep, thank you. What I would like are my things returned to my room,” she hissed for his ears only.

  Several of the spectators cleared their throats simultaneously.

  There was no way they could have heard her.

  “You can either walk back upstairs of your own volition or I can carry you,” he returned just as low.

  More throat clearing.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she fumed. Of all the gall!

  She didn’t get another warning before Lorn lifted her with little effort and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing.

  “It was very nice meeting you young lady. I look forward to speaking with you at length, later” Krail added, beaming from ear to ear.

  Fatima didn’t see any reason to be happy.

  ***

  It wasn’t exactly the introduction Lorn had in mind, but he wouldn’t let himself worry about what had already been done. He was more concerned with how things would be going forward. When his father had arrived with some other Protectors in tow, he smelled trouble, which was exactly what he got after informing them all there was a Fledgling upstairs in his bed. His announcement was followed by utter silence before the room erupted in accusations.

  “You had no right to take her,” Mikhail Ludwick began. “How do we know she would have chosen you if all the Protectors were present?”

  “Exactly. As far as we know you could have her bound to your bed,” Alejandro Saldano added.

  “When I met her I didn’t know she was a Fledgling. Her mark is not in the traditional spot. I discovered it after we became lovers, which makes it obvious she has chosen me.”

  “How can we be certain you didn’t force her decision?” Alexi Dracon questioned quietly from his chair in a corner.

  “Because I don’t resort to rape in order to get a woman in my bed. Yes, I have found my mate, but I’m still dedicated to the cause. This should be a day of rejoicing because we now have concrete proof there are Fledglings in the world. We just need to find them.”

  Lorn resisted the urge to throw the brooding Protector out of his home. All knew there was no love lost between the two gargoyles.

  Each man seemed to digest the meaning of his words before agreeing.

  “How do we go about finding them?” Lorn’s father questioned. “In my day the marked women were presented to us in our annual celebrations,” he remembered nostalgically.

  “The internet would be a good starting point,” Alejandro suggested.

  Most of the men, including Lorn, snorted aloud.

  “No, I think Alejandro is on to something. With the number of social networking groups there has to be Fledglings on any number of them. We could also buy ad space.” Jean, Lorn’s younger brother, piped in.

  “And say what exactly… Fledglings wanted?” Alexi grunted.

  “No, but give me a few days to think on it and I’ll come up with an idea,” Jean offered.

  “In the meantime we must first address the issue of Vladimir and secondly allow our brother to return to his new mate. The sooner they can get their coupling out of their systems the sooner they can continue their research,” Mikhail had added jokingly, getting the barest cursory chortle.

  None of them had much to laugh about these days and losing another brother to consumption only punctuated the gravity of things. Lorn might have found his mate but until more Fledglings were discovered the rest of them were on borrowed time.

  ***

  A
s Lorn allowed a seething Fatima to slide to the floor he couldn’t help but think there wouldn’t be much loving going on any time soon.

  “You should be in the bed. I instructed Pierre to bring you a tray once you’d awaken.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she lied. “What I would like are some answers. First, why are my clothes here and what the hell was the whole Conan the Conqueror thing you just pulled downstairs?”

  “Your things are here because this is where you belong, with me every night.” His voice dropped seductively, causing Fatima to take several steps back.

  “Well, you should have consulted me first before moving my stuff. Did you ever stop to think I didn’t want your staff to know we’re sleeping together?”

  “It’s not their business.”

  “Well, it’s mine. What if the university were to hear about this? It could compromise the whole credibility of the research.”

  “To hell with the research and the university. I’m not going to sneak around with you like some guilty teenager.”

  “You don’t get it.” She bit her bottom lip in agitation. “I want everything put back.”

  “No.”

  “Fine, if you won’t do it then I will.” She stalked off to the closet.

  “Fatima,” he cautioned.

  Whatever! He had no right to make decisions for her, especially choices potentially detrimental to her career. She gasped when he stopped her in her tracks, seeming to speed across the room at an unbelievable velocity to block her.

  “How did you do that?” What was going on around here? Maybe something was wrong with her. After all, she’d slept for so long. Had she been ill, was it the reason everyone wanted her in bed?

  “I don’t want to argue with you, ma cherie, please.” He sighed. “You’re right, I should have talked to you about this first. After last night I was certain you felt the same way I do about us.”