by Lynsay Sands
“You sound like an old woman,” he teased lightly.
Ildaria turned to him with a crooked smile. “I am an old woman,” she pointed out, and then grinned at his stunned expression as he realized she was right.
She had said she was born in 1812. That meant she was over two hundred years old, older than any mortal alive. She should be a shriveled old prune. But the nanos kept her young and beautiful. G.G. knew about immortals, and intellectually he knew that most if not all of them that he met were older than him, but for some reason he didn’t think of them that way.
“Oh, G.G., you are dating an older woman,” Ildaria said suddenly, with wide eyes. “A cougar.”
G.G. snorted at the claim. “You’re no cougar.”
“Si. Lydia, my friend from university, said an older woman with a younger man is a cougar. I am a cougar,” she assured him. “And you are mi perrito.”
“What is that?” he asked suspiciously.
“My puppy.”
“My puppy?” he gasped with disbelief.
“Well, it’s better than my kitty. That just sounds wrong. I could call you Osito.”
“Which means?”
“Cuddly teddy bear.” When he scowled, she said, “Semental? It means stallion.”
“Yeah, well that’s not what it sounds like,” he said dryly.
“Or polla grande,” she offered, and then smiled wickedly and explained, “It means big cock.”
G.G. felt the grin spread over his face. Yeah, he was a guy. He liked that name.
Ildaria burst out laughing at his expression, sidled closer, and he felt her hand slide up his leg, toward his groin. “I like you in this outfit, polla grande.”
“Naughty,” he said softly, catching her hand. It might be a dream, but it still felt like there were hundreds of people around them. Unfortunately, as usual, one touch and he was ready to go. Hell, one look and he was usually ready to go. Ildaria was like a drug and he was addicted. Still holding her hand in his, he slid his free hand to her hip. “And I like you in this dress, Angel. It makes me want to slip my hand under your skirt to see what you’re wearing under it.” He let his hand glide down over her bottom and urged her closer as he squeezed gently. “But I really think you look even better out of it.”
Ildaria smiled slowly, and then pulled away and tugged him along behind her, leading him through the crowd, moving toward the edge of it until they broke away and escaped into an alley. It was narrow and dark, and felt isolated from the celebrating villagers behind them, the music, laughter, and chatter muted a great deal. G.G. was just wondering where they were going when she stopped and turned to face him. Before he could ask what they were doing, she leaned back against the wall, and tugged her top down, revealing her breasts.
G.G. stared for a moment, awed by the sight, and then moved forward, reaching for the perfect round globes even as his lips found hers. She greeted him warmly, her mouth opening at once to welcome him, and her body arching into his touch. G.G.’s tongue thrust and hips surged as he cupped and squeezed the breasts on offer. Her skin was so soft and warm, and she felt so damned good in his hands. He toyed with her nipples as he kissed her, plucking and tweaking them until she moaned, and then one hand fell away and dropped to tug up her skirt. Catching the cloth between them with the pressure of his body, he reached under it to skim his hand up her leg, smiling against her mouth when she shivered and shifted restlessly, little mewls of sound slipping from her mouth to his. He loved those sounds. He wanted more of them, and slid his hand between her legs to find no panties to bar his way.
The woman thought of everything, he marveled as he pressed against her heat. He felt her fingers tighten on his shoulders, and her legs spread a bit to make it easier, and then he let his fingers glide over her warm wet skin, and she was so wet for him. He wanted more.
Ildaria gasped and shuddered, her hips shifting as his fingers slid between her folds and caressed her. Moving gently but firmly around the nub he felt there, he just brushed the edges of the delicate spot and swallowed her gasps and moans as she began to ride his hand, chasing his touch as her excitement mounted. When she broke their kiss and gasped, “Please!” in that needy voice he loved, G.G. moved his mouth to her ear and nipped lightly before asking, “What do you want, Angel?”
“You,” she moaned.
“You want me inside you?” he asked.
“Si. Oh!” she cried out as he slid a finger inside her, shifting to continue caressing her bud with his thumb now, and doing so more firmly as he eased in and out of her.
“You like that?” he growled, nipping her ear again.
“More,” she gasped, nearly sobbing now. “Please, mi amor. Please.”
Turning his head, he caught her mouth with his in a brief hard kiss, even as his free hand reached for the front of his pants. He had them undone before he recalled it was a dream and he could have wished them undone or even gone. Pushing the thought away, he left off caressing her briefly, and retrieved his hand to catch her upper legs. When Ildaria immediately clutched at his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips, he guided himself into her, hissing between his teeth as she closed around him warm, and wet and—
“So damn tight,” he breathed as the head of his erection was swallowed and squeezed and drawn farther in. Then he surged upward, burying himself in her, a groan slipping from his mouth even as he heard hers. Pinning her body to the wall with his, G.G. turned his head and kissed her again. This time he continued to kiss her, his tongue thrusting in time to his body pushing into hers, slowly at first, and then with increased speed when she began clawing at his shoulders, her nails biting into the skin. It was a mistake. He almost came before she was ready, and had to fight the urge, mentally shouting at himself. “No. Wait. Christ, you can’t—” and then Ildaria broke their kiss on a cry and strained against him, her inner muscles tightening and pulsing around him as she found her release. Nothing could have stopped G.G. then, and he followed her into that pleasure with a shout of his own, before sagging against her, his forehead resting on hers.
They were both silent for a moment as they caught their breath. But when he slipped from inside her, Ildaria stretched lazily and ran her hands over his back before sliding them up to clasp his face and urge his head up. G.G. opened his eyes to see her smiling at him softly.
Letting her legs drop, she stood on her own and then leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you, mi amor. I am sure you have banished the nightmares. I will never think of this spot again without remembering this.”
G.G. blinked as his mind absorbed her words, and then he turned to peer around the small alley. It was dark and narrow and somewhat smelly, and he was suddenly quite sure it was the alley where she’d been assaulted by the soldiers and then attacked and turned by Juan Villaverde. When he turned back to her in question, she nodded and then kissed him again.
It started out a soft brushing of lips like the first. She was the one to deepen it, her tongue skimming his lips and urging them apart to allow her to slip in. G.G. started kissing her back then, but was careful to let her lead the way. She led them deep, her kisses returning to the passion of moments ago, and when her hand found him and slid his length, he groaned into her mouth as he felt himself grow.
He didn’t resist when she turned them so that he was the one against the wall, but his eyes popped open when she suddenly broke their kiss and he sensed her shifting. She had dropped to her knees before him, and concern nudged aside some of his passion then.
His worry must have shown on his face, because a small smirk tilted Ildaria’s lips and she whispered, “Coward,” against the head of his semi-erect cock as she took him in hand.
“I’m kind of attached to my parts,” he said for explanation.
“So am I, semental,” she assured him and then took him in her mouth.
G.G. wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation as she ran her lips and tongue his length, but was nervous enough that he couldn’t. H
owever even here, in this spot, she wasn’t moved to bite him, and bloody hell, watching her mouth moving on him was about the most erotic damned thing he’d ever seen. Despite having just loved her, it didn’t take long for her to push him over the edge. In fact it was fast enough he would have been embarrassed if it hadn’t felt so damned good and she didn’t look so bloody pleased.
Shaking his head on a helpless laugh, he sagged against the wall and then closed his arms around her when she straightened and leaned against him.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, pressing her close and dropping a kiss on her forehead.
“Si. And so are you. It is why we are life mates,” she whispered, kissing his chin softly.
G.G. peered down at her silently for a minute and then suddenly spun her to the wall, and knelt before her, his hands pushing her skirt up her legs and his mouth following in their wake, trailing kisses.
“G.G.?” she whispered, already sounding breathless.
“I’m going to give you one more good memory to replace the old ones here,” he said, drawing one of her legs over his shoulder and finding her with his lips and tongue. And he was pretty sure it was the best damned memory ever. G.G. used his mouth and hands, and went at her until she came, screaming in that alley with her pleasure, and then he started all over again. G.G. helped her find her pleasure half a dozen times that way. When he finally stopped, her legs were shaking so badly she couldn’t stand and her hands were clumsy as she tried to straighten her clothes. G.G. helped her, tugging her top back up into place. Then he straightened his own clothes, before sweeping her off her feet. He then carried her out of the alley, murmuring, “Time for bed.”
Ildaria smiled faintly and rested her head against his shoulder, murmuring, “I’m already in bed. This is a dream, remember?”
“Yes,” he agreed as her eyes drifted closed, and then as he stepped out of the alley and miraculously into the bedroom of her apartment, he added softly, “But next time it won’t be.”
G.G. didn’t know if she’d heard him. It seemed ridiculous to believe that she’d fallen asleep in her dream, but that was how it had seemed. Perhaps exhaustion had just forced the dreaming part of her mind to shut down. Whatever the case, he’d laid her in her bed, then rolled over in his own and woke up.
It had been one hell of a night. One of many they’d had the last week since she’d begun to participate in the dreams they shared. But this one was special. It had left G.G. thinking that maybe they really could risk sex while they were awake. That was obviously why Ildaria had led him to the alley where she’d been attacked. Either to test herself, or to show him that she thought it would be safe and she wouldn’t freak out.
He wasn’t saying he wouldn’t still be a little nervous their first time. But he was willing to give it a go. It was just a shame there weren’t Kevlar condoms out there.
Smiling faintly at the thought, G.G. opened his eyes and turned his head to peer at the bedside clock. Shock rolled through him when he saw that it was nine in the morning. He’d slept for twelve hours straight! That was something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager. Oh God, and he’d stuck Ildaria with H.D. She’d obviously slept, or he couldn’t have had the shared dreams with her, but he wondered how long she’d waited for him to come get his dog. Sunrise was around a quarter to six in the morning at this time of year, and he usually finished cleanup and stopped in at her place by six thirty or six forty-five. Ildaria had probably dozed off waiting for him to show up. Damn. He was a bad daddy and employer.
Sitting up abruptly, he tossed the sheet and comforter aside and launched out of bed to hurry into the bathroom. Ten minutes later he came out, showered, shaved, teeth brushed, and Mohawk standing straight up and proud. A quick rummage through the closet and he was also dressed. G.G. didn’t even stop for coffee, he simply hurried out to snatch his keys off the island and then hustled out of the apartment and across the hall.
Knowing Ildaria would still be sleeping, he didn’t knock, but unlocked the door and crept quietly in, expecting to find Ildaria and H.D. curled up on the sofa where she’d no doubt dozed off. But the couch was empty, as was the rest of the apartment until he reached the bedroom. He never would have opened the door had it been closed, but it was wide open, revealing Ildaria curled up in bed, with H.D. snuggled up to her back.
The little fur ball knew better. G.G. never let H.D. in bed. The woman was ruining his dog, he thought with a small smile as his gaze slid over her sleeping face. It was the first time he’d seen her asleep. She looked different. Her face softer without the sharpness that usually cloaked her features when awake. It made him realize that she was usually tense and on the alert for threat or trouble. Hyperaware was what he thought they called it. Without that, she looked like the angel he’d taken to calling her. Sweet and lovely and innocent. Seeing her like this, he could imagine her at fourteen, and simply couldn’t understand how anyone would want to harm her. His immediate instinct was to protect her.
Movement drew his gaze to H.D. The fur ball’s eyes were open and his head turned toward the door. G.G. made a soft shushing sound so the dog wouldn’t bark, and then patted his leg. He needn’t have bothered; H.D. was already on his feet and scampering to the foot of the bed. His tags jingled on his collar as he leapt to the floor, and G.G. glanced to Ildaria, relieved that the small sound hadn’t woken her.
He bent to pet his dog in greeting, and then urged him out of the doorway so he could close it. G.G. had decided to make Ildaria breakfast, which meant the clang of pots and pans, running water, etc. and he didn’t want the noise to drag her from sleep prematurely. The woman might have ruined his dog, but otherwise she was perfect . . . for him. But then she would be, she was his life mate.
Damn, I have a life mate, G.G. thought, and smiled as he led H.D. up the hall. He started to head into the kitchen, but a bark from H.D. made him stop and turn back. The dog hadn’t followed him, but had headed to the door instead.
“Right. You need to go out, huh?” G.G. realized and gave his head a shake as he changed direction. That was why he’d gone to fetch him rather than just leaving him with Ildaria until she woke. He hadn’t wanted H.D. to wake her up early with a need to go outside.
“Okay, buddy. Let’s go,” he said as he opened the door. The little mutt rushed out, and then came to an abrupt halt and crouched, barking viciously, which really just sounded like his usual yip, but G.G. knew he was trying to sound mean. Glancing past him, he stopped as well, his eyebrows rising as he took note of the man and woman seated on the floor at the end of the hall, playing cards.
“Mirabeau. Tiny,” he greeted, relaxing and pulling Ildaria’s apartment door closed when he recognized the pair. Eyebrows rising in question, he asked, “To what do we owe this visit? Is it a visit?” he added wryly, not sure what to make of their presence in his hall.
“Lucian called us at about 5:30 in the morning and asked us to come and guard Ildaria,” Mirabeau answered.
“Guard Ildaria?” G.G. echoed, alarm coursing through him. “From what? What’s happened?”
“A couple of South American Enforcers tried to grab her when she took H.D. out to relieve himself after work,” Tiny said in his deep rumble.
“What?” G.G. barked. “Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”
“Maybe she wasn’t awake enough to think of it,” Mirabeau suggested. “Was she sleeping when you went in?”
“Yes. And I didn’t wake her up, but I meant in our dreams last night. She didn’t mention it then either.”
“Ah.” Tiny smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. We heard you two were life mates. Congratulations,” Mirabeau said, and then tilted her head. “But if you two are life mates, why are you sleeping apart? The shared dreams usually stop once you mate. You get more sleep that way.”
“I wouldn’t say more,” Tiny disagreed with amusement.
“Well, it’s more restful sleep, at least,” Mirabeau argued.
“Were you two out here w
hen I left my apartment?” G.G. asked as her earlier words suddenly occurred to him. Lucian had called at 5:30 and sent them over?
“Yeah.” Mirabeau grinned. “You didn’t even look our way, just came out, crossed the hall, and went into Ildaria’s. Good thing we weren’t the South American Enforcers, we’d have taken you out and gone in and grabbed her.”
“Hmm.” Tiny nodded in agreement.
G.G. closed his eyes briefly at the thought. Christ, he’d had no awareness that someone was even in the hall with him. He hadn’t looked around at all.
“No reason for you to. It’s your hall, and you had no idea there was a problem,” Mirabeau pointed out.
“You also haven’t lived your entire life having to watch for trouble,” Tiny pointed out. “Immortals know better than to mess with you. No one wants Robert Guiscard on their ass.”
“And most mortals probably steer clear of you too, because of your size and the Mohawk.”
“Ildaria would have noticed you right away though. Probably before she even opened the door,” G.G. said with a frown, just now realizing how obliviously he’d lived his life. He’d wandered through it, never afraid, never the least anxious that he wasn’t safe and secure. Meanwhile, she’d lived it constantly hunted, constantly on the alert for trouble and threat.
G.G. had hoped she was safe now that she was out of South America, but that bastard Villaverde found out she was here and sent men after her. He could understand his being pissed about her biting off his cock and maybe wanting a little revenge at the time, but hunting her for two hundred years seemed a bit over the top. The guy needed to get over it and move on. As an immortal, he would have grown it back. Maybe. G.G. wasn’t sure. Did immortals grow back their bits if someone took them off?
“Uh, yeah. They do,” Mirabeau said, obviously picking up his thoughts. Wincing then, she asked, “So that’s his beef, huh?”