by Isa Hunt
His right hand resumed its movement, as his left encircled my nipple. I grabbed his head as a bolt of sudden pleasure rocked through me. His hands, lips and tongue were devoted to my body. I was overwhelmed by his touch. My skin was on fire. Electricity sparked in my veins and I ached for him.
He pressed against me and I could feel his erection. I reached down and stroked the length of him over his boxer briefs. He growled again and bit down on my shoulder.
“I want you. I will have you,” he whispered into my ears.
“Yes,” I moaned in response.
He spun me around and then lowered me onto the stone floor. I gasped and shuddered when my back felt the cold stone of the floor. Anton quickly moved between my legs and took himself in his hand.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
“Yes,” I said. He thrust into me. I cried out as my body expanded to take him all in. He began to move, back and forth over me. I wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. He was consuming me and I let him. I could feel him move inside me. And then I could feel his hand as it began to spin just above the place where he entered me.
I moaned loudly and clung to his shoulders. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice echoing around us. “Yes, Anton!” My body writhed underneath him. I was out of control. I never wanted him to stop. I would have done anything to keep him going.
I was so close. My body was tense as he pushed and thrust into me. Finally, I could take no more and I screamed out the word yes as pleasure rocked through my body. My body writhed out-of-control as I rode my orgasm to its finish. Above me, Anton came with a groan. We were both spent and breathing heavily on the cold stone floor.
Chapter Eleven
After we were done, we walked up from the basement hand in hand. He kept his arms wrapped around me as if he could not bear for us to be separated. We slept together in Anton’s huge bed. I thought about my little shanty house in the abandoned office. It seemed like a lifetime ago I was huddled and starving. Now I was safe and warm, with strong arms around me.
What would have happened to me if Anton hadn’t come? I would have died there. I would have smothered to death or frozen. I had been so afraid of Anton, so afraid of all men that I had run from the person who would eventually save me. I didn’t believe that kindness such as his could exist.
He brought me tea in bed in the morning. If I hadn’t liked him before, I certainly did now. He had a television in his room and we watched the news as we sipped our drinks. Life had returned to the world. People were going back to work, kids going back to school.
The bookstore would be open soon and I could go back to work. There was no question of me staying anywhere else. Anton insisted that I stay there with him.
My life was starting to form again. I had a house and someone who cared about me... which, I had to admit, came as a bit of a shock. It was only two months ago when I was planning to marry another man, a man who’s child I was carrying, and here I was, catching myself falling in love with someone else.
I should’ve at least felt guilty about it, but nothing about Anton or my feelings for him seemed wrong, not even in the broadest sense... or even similar to how I felt about Michael. I cared about Michael, I was smitten with him, and even more so with the life I thought we would have.
But Anton... there was a part of me that he reached, a hungry part I didn’t even know existed until he woke it... and, somehow, it was clear as day to me that this, right here, was the kind of love that I’d waited for all of my life.
Another thing that made me joyful was that I could look into getting certified to teach in Maine, and build the life I actually wanted. Teaching elementary school in a small town had been my dream and now I might actually be able to live it.
It was noon when the doorbell rang. We were dressed and reading in the library. I was looking up certifications in Maine on Anton’s laptop. The staff had still not returned, we were still all alone. He stood up to get the door and I followed him, walking in my stocking feet.
I hung back as he opened the door and my eyes went wide when I saw a man holding a gun directly in Anton’s face.
“Hello, Kristen,” the man said. “Your father’s been looking for you. Vacation’s over, time to come home. Move aside, rich boy.”
I didn’t recognize him. I had no idea who he was. That only meant one thing, my father had hired a professional to come and find me. My escape had moved up the organization and they were taking it just as seriously as I feared.
“This is a very bad idea,” Anton said. “Leave now. Or this house will be the last thing you ever see.”
“That right, rich boy?” The man said. “You ever heard of the name The Butcher? That’s me. And no, you haven't heard of me because I’m very good at my job. I know that there is no one else in this house other than the two of you and we’re far enough away that no one is going to hear either of you scream. Now, let’s go, Kristen.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Anton said, blocking the door with his body.
“Kristen!” The Butcher called out. “Say goodbye to your little boyfriend. You and I both know that his money isn’t going to be enough to protect you. You want to watch him die?”
I moved toward the door. He was right, my father would always find me. I would never be safe. I was only putting Anton in danger. I touched his arm, trying to get him to move, but he refused.
“They call you the Butcher?” Anton said. “Why is that?”
“Because I kill people and dispose of the bodies. I’m a ghost. No one knows me. The law can’t touch me.”
“So no one knows you’re here. No one will come looking for you once you’re gone?”
“Don’t get any ideas, rich boy,” The Butcher said. “You aren’t going to take me. I have a gun on you. I’ll shoot you dead before you can take a step.”
“Anton, please,” I said. I was crying now. I wiped away the tears and tried to move him, but he was like a solid brick wall.
“How would I send a message to your boss, if I wanted to?” Anton said.
The Butcher scoffed, the gun still trained on Anton. “This isn’t a problem that can be solved with money. Kristen ran and when she ran she offended a very powerful man. Nothing will correct that except for Kristin going home, apologizing and doing her duty.”
“She’s not going anywhere and if you don’t leave, you’re going to die here.”
“That’s enough talk. Let me in the house,” The Butcher said. He trained the gun on Anton’s face.
Anton thought for a moment and then moved aside. He moved me with him, so I was always shielded by his body. I looked around him at The Butcher, who held the gun steady in his hands.
“Let’s go, Kristen. I don’t have time for this-” his jaw fell open, but he was a professional and the gun remained in place.
Anton was changing, morphing into the lion. The Butcher yelled out and then took a stumbling step back. He fired once, the sound of the gun echoing around the house. But Anton was ready, he dodged the bullet and then began stalking the man.
The Butcher fired again, but the shot missed and Anton lunged. He hit him with his full lion’s weight and The Butcher slammed back against the wall. He dropped the gun and then he fell. I raced forward and grabbed the gun, training it on The Butcher, but he was frozen, staring at the lion in front of him.
“What...” he said. “What’s happening?”
In a moment, the lion was a man again. His clothes were in tatters hanging off of him, but he didn’t seem to care.
Anton grabbed the Butcher by his collar and pulled him to his feet. The Butcher had an obvious concussion, but he stumbled up and barely managed to stay here.
“You go back to your boss and you tell them that Kristen is dead. She froze to death in the abandoned office building where she was staying. She’s dead. There’s no use in hunting for her.”
“Proof, they want proof,” The Butcher said. He looked less terrifying now. He was drooling a little, his eyes w
ere crossed and he was swaying on his feet. There was a large goose egg forming on the back of his head.
“I can get proof. It’ll be in the paper. You’re right, I do have money, but I also have connections and a power you could not imagine. You will return to your masters and tell them that Kristen is dead. There will be a death certificate for proof. I’ll see to that. And trust me when I tell you that if you ever tell anyone Kristen is alive or anything about what you saw here today, I will find you and I will kill you. No one will ever find your body. This is not only possible but easy. You know this as well as I do.”
Still holding onto The Butcher’s shirt, Anton pushed him to the door and then out into the snow. I still had the gun trained on him. He stood dazed in the blinding white of the day. This had obviously not gone as he planned.
“I’m going to call the police and tell them I was attacked. I’m going to give them your description and any fingerprints that might be on the gun. I suggest you start running.”
The Butcher stared at us, his mouth hanging open. He looked from me to Anton and then back again. Finally, he nodded and turned, stumbling down the snow-lined lane.
Anton slammed the door, locked it and then set the security alarm.
“Death certificate?” I asked him.
“Your father isn’t the only one with connections. Now you get to a pick a new name. You can be whomever you want. I can get everything together. You can start a whole new life.”
He walked over to me and gently took the gun. “It’s okay,” he said. “I told you. I’ll always keep you safe. You, and our baby.”
“Anton...” I breathed, stunned at his words.
He smiled. “Did you think I could think of this child any other way?” he asked, but for all the seriousness in his tone, the look in his eyes told me he was teasing.
“There aren’t a lot of men who would,” I noted, and he scoffed.
“There aren’t a lot of men who can shapeshift into a lion, either,” he said, a crooked grin dancing on his lips.
Well. He did have a point there.
“I love you, Kristen, and that means I could feel nothing less for the child you carry... or any child you bring into this world. To me, they would all be our children, and the one you’re having now would be my firstborn. Family’s about more than DNA... and your baby deserves to be loved just as much as any other child in this world... so how could I not?”
The things this man said... no wonder he made my heart do cartwheels for him.
Epilogue
“See, Michael?” Anton said to the baby boy swaddled in a fluffy blue blanket, whom he rocked in his arms, as they entered the bridal suite. “The most beautiful bride in the world.” I smiled at the sight the two of them made – Anton in his fitted silk tuxedo, and Michael in his pristine white baby clothes and favorite blankie.
It was enough to make a woman’s heart swell with love and joy.
“You two are not supposed to be here,” I chided them, but they knew too well I was happy they came by. “Especially you,” I looked to Anton, “Don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?”
“I make my own luck,” he stated matter-of-factly, but couldn’t keep his mock-hauteur for long and was quick to smile again. “Besides, Michael was getting a little cranky without you.”
“Oh, sweetie,” I cooed, standing up from the vanity table and walking over to take Michael in my arms. “Did you miss Mommy?”
Michael let out a few happy blurbs, flapping his little arms up and down, and cuddled up against my chest, his simple joy making me giggle.
“Look at him,” I sighed happily, and lifted my eyes to Anton, “Look at us! Who knew we could ever end up like this?”
“I did,” my husband-to-be stated proudly, almost as leonine now as he was in his animal form, “I’d always known we were meant to be together. All of us.”
The smile on my face grew into a full-blown grin.
And he was right. It felt impossible sometimes, how easily things fell into place with them, the fantastic hand in hand with the mundane. It was almost like a dream... one I would never want to wake up from.
“You know what, Anton Lev?” I said, all the love I had for him clear in my eyes, “You really do say the loveliest things.”
Without words, Anton lowered his head, and planted one of those heady kisses of his on my lips.
Mm... my favorite.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing here?!” Sarah exclaimed as she came in from the hallway. “Shoo! Shoo! There’ll be plenty of time for this lovey-dovey stuff after the wedding!” Like a force of nature, she swooped in, took Michael into her caring arms, and then all but kicked out Anton, who couldn’t stop laughing.
And I laughed too.
How could I not?
This was the happiest day of my life so far, and a promise for even happier days to come... and, for once, I did not fear it would all come crumbling down.
There were no more monsters under my bed.
The lion ate them all up.
*****
THE END
Claimed by the Dragon Shifter
Description
A curvy young witch with a large responsibility PLUS a hot Dragon Shifter assigned to protect her PLUS someone trying to kill her!
Avalon Grey has always known she was born to a noble heritage and with a heavy responsibility. As a direct descendant of the famed Morgan le Fay, it will soon be her duty to protect the gates of Albian until the time King Arthur returns to this world.
However, before she can protect the gates, she first must gain control of her magic.
To achieve this goal, her parents send her to the prestigious University of Magic Vancouver. There she meets Vaughn Albanesi, the hunky Red Dragon assigned to be her protector while she is at the school.
With his intoxicating presence everywhere she goes, Avalon finds it increasingly difficult to focus on her studies. She only has ten months until Samhain Eve to bring her magic under control and that may not be enough time.
With Samhain Eve drawing ever nearer, Avalon must prove herself worthy and able of claiming her birthright and protecting Albian's gates, both to herself and to the world at large. If she can't, then it will be letting down generations of her ancestors, as well as putting the world at risk of war.
To make matters worse, somebody at the University might be trying to kill her...
Chapter One
The University of Magic Vancouver, or Ma-Vic as it was affectionately known by its students and alumni, was the premier magical university in the world. It only accepted the most talented, the most prestigious, the most promising students to be taught by its masters.
At least that was what Avalon's mother kept telling her. In truth, it had cost a tidy donation, enough to build a whole new wing onto the university library, to get her admitted. Avalon had seen the letter the board of trustees had sent her parents, though she hadn't told them that.
Sitting in the backseat of a rented Mercedes-Benz sedan, Avalon stared glumly out at Vancouver. She had expected more from the city, somehow. The tall buildings with their glinting windows in the downtown area were nothing really unique. Crowds of people moved along the streets, moving with a sense of purpose and haste that usually thrilled Avalon.
Vancouver wasn't as energetic as New York, nor was it filled with a historic air like London. Given the amount of bohemian scarves, vintage clothing and distressed designer jeans, it was also far more hipster than Avalon cared for. She had spent most of her life in luxury hotel rooms and at diplomatic parties, shaking hands with people from all over the world. She had acquired more refined tastes.
Still, she would only be here for a few months. Ma-Vic prided itself on turning out top notch witches with incredible skills within a single semester of their intensive programs.
Avalon tugged at her seatbelt, wincing as she heard the child lock engage. She tried to find a position for the belt that was neit
her squashing her breasts nor cutting into her neck. She succeeded only in losing what little space the belt had given her.
Her mother, Elaine, smiled in the rearview mirror at her, noticing the signs of Avalon's restlessness. "We'll be there soon."
Avalon tried to smile back at her, but her stomach twisted in knots. If the best tutors available were not able to help her get a good handle on her magic, how was this school supposed to?
It was desperation, bribing her a place among other students who were no doubt going to be talented, prestigious and promising.
I'll just have to try harder, she told herself. What does Dad always say? Failure to quit is the only acceptable form of failure?
Thinking of her dad made her smile, but it didn't last long. It was going to be her birthday soon. Once she turned twenty, it was time for her to take the keys to the Gate of Albian from her mother, and protect King Arthur while he slept.
Of course, her mother wouldn't actually transfer the keys to her until a special ceremony on Samhain Eve at the end of October. But it still didn't give Avalon much time to prepare for the responsibility.
Daughters inherited the keys from their mothers when they were twenty years old. It was the way that Morgan le Fay, Avalon's distant ancestress, had decreed when she locked the gates, sealing Arthur in his sleep for his mortal wounds to heal. If her mother did not give her the keys this year, both would be driven mad by Avalon's twenty-first birthday.
"Don't look so glum," Stane, Elaine's bonded dragon, her lifelong protector, twisted in the passenger's seat to look at Avalon. If continuously scanning the other cars past Avalon's head was actually looking “at” her.
"Be bold and confident. You are a Lady Grey, born of the Fey, wielder of magic. Put your shoulders back, hold your head high—"