Tales of the Golden Judge: 3-Book Bundle - Books 7-9

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Tales of the Golden Judge: 3-Book Bundle - Books 7-9 Page 2

by Hart, Melissa F.


  “Hmm, hope you don't make a habit of this.”

  Benedict stripped to the skin, aware for a moment of how slender he was. He wasn't like Morgan Durrant, the weretiger, or Carson Keynes, the werewolf. Both of the other male judges were built like the animals they transformed in to. They were large and bulky, built for force and power. His own frame was comparatively light. He was tall and when he was worried or working hard, inclined toward thinness. He was broad through the shoulders though, and there was muscle on his frame. He was powerful, just not bulky.

  He shook his head, wondering at his sudden vanity, and being as blunt and practical as he could be, he climbed into the sleeping bags with the woman he had rescued.

  “So,” she said presently. “You turn into a golden eagle.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “So you know about my kind.”

  “Stands to reason,” she said with a shrug. “There are superheroes in Colossal City and one of them turns into a wolf.”

  “Hmm.”

  She snuggled herself against his body comfortably, and after an awkward moment, she took his arm and dragged it over the curve of her hip.

  “You were in that water, too,” she said, her voice scolding. “This is nothing.”

  “It's not nothing to me,” he said through gritted teeth. There was something about this woman that drew him in, and for a moment, he wondered if the cold had affected him as well. Shape changers were sturdier by far than humans, but it was a freezing cold night and he had ended up in the water far more than he should have been.

  Tentatively, he took her in his arms, and without a bit of self-consciousness, she snuggled right up against him. He could feel her breasts press against his chest, and after a moment, she slung one leg familiarly over both of his.

  “Do you mind?” she asked, and he wondered if there was a small amount of amusement in her voice.

  “I don't even know your name,” he said, and it came out a little more plaintive than he intended.

  “I don't know yours either,” she retorted, but then she relented. “It's Marcie Beauchamp, by the way. And you?”

  “Benedict Halfdansson.”

  “Hmm. Swedish?”

  “Something like that,” he temporized. His experience in speaking with human women was fairly limited, and now that he was, he felt slightly, oddly shy about it. No, it wasn't the fact that she was a human woman, he realized, it was the fact that it was her. There was something intimately familiar about her smell, the feel of her nestled against him, and the contentment that he felt when she curled up even closer to him.

  “So your name is Benedict and you turn into a golden eagle,” she mused. “And you rescue women who don't need rescuing.”

  He drew back, stung. “Don't need rescuing?” he sputtered. “What do you think was in the water with you?”

  To Benedict's shock, she grinned as fiercely as a wolf maiden or a tiger woman. For a moment, he wondered if she was a shapechanger as well before she shook her head.

  “What was in there was a beauty,” she said. “There's something in that lake, and I don't know whether it's prehistoric or whether it's just some kind of animal we've never seen before. All I know is that I need to find it.”

  “Are you a hunter?” he asked, and she blinked at him.

  “No, god no, though I've really got no issue with someone who does and eats the meat of course. No, I'm a scientist, a field biologist to be exact.”

  “And you want to what, go pet everything large and slimy that lives in a lake?”

  She glared at him, and a part of him smiled to see how much fun it was to bait her. He remembered her slight grin when she had pulled him close, and now he snuggled even closer to her. Their bodies were flush against each other, and her very nearness was arousing him slightly, but they both ignored it to concentrate on the matter at hand.

  “No, I want to study it,” she said sternly. “Do you know how long it's been since there was a discovery of an animal that large? Do you know what a discovery like this could do to the world? To the scientific community?”

  “Do you know what an animal that large can do to your body?” he retorted. “Do you know how much it can hurt someone who can't fight it?”

  Her gaze turned thoughtful, and she shook her head. “I don't know about that,” she said finally. “That's neither here nor there.”

  “What is, then?” he asked, amused in spite of himself.

  “I think what's here is that I want to know more about you.”

  The direct question shocked him, and she grinned.

  “I don't really like to mess around,” Marcie admitted. “When I want to know something, I like to ask. I guess it's what makes me a good scientist and a bad lover.”

  “I have trouble imagining that,” Benedict murmured, and he hastily added, “A good scientist, no, I could see that very clearly. The bad lover part I have some doubts about.”

  She laughed, a rich and throaty sound that went straight through him. “Let me put you in touch with my exes,” she said with just a hint of bitterness. “Too busy, too smart, too fat, the list goes on.”

  “I prefer to make my own decisions, with relevant data,” Benedict said loftily, and her bitterness faded away to a grin.

  “Charmer! Still, it doesn't get you off the hook. I want to learn more about you.”

  “Hmm. Well, you saw the big secret, I suppose,” he said. “I was born to the far north, and I was my mother's only son. My father was killed by poachers when I was small, and it was just my mother and I.”

  “How horrible!” Marcie gasped, and to his surprise, he could see her light eyes fill with tears.

  “It was a thing that happened,” he said, moving on hastily. He was touched by her emotion, but it was the last thing that he wanted to think about when there was a beautiful naked woman in the bed with him.

  “I'm a judge, which means that I'm one of the lawkeepers of my kind,” he continued softly. “I was chosen by Jo Chen, this amazing woman. She took the form of a black eagle, and she taught me how to control the winds. She was old when she taught me, but she gave up her position, and she still lives, I believe. She went wild and went strange. Someday, I think I will go find her, thank her for everything she has done for me.”

  It was quite a long speech for Benedict, who was inclined to be rather taciturn, but when he paused, he realized that there was something genuinely pleasing about showing this woman so much of himself. There was a soft kindling of warmth in his heart for her, and though he wondered at it, it was an instinctive part of himself that he could not bring himself to doubt.

  “Now tell me about yourself,” he murmured. They had grown even closer while he had spoken, and now he could smell her body, that soft feminine scent that was underneath the smell of lake water, and for a moment, he thought that he could be content to simply lie like that, with her, forever.

  “Not much to tell,” she said practically. “I'm twenty-eight, I'm an adjunct professor over at Hochstetler College in Colossal City, and most of the year, I'm teaching biology over there. Currently, though, I'm on sabbatical, and I'm chasing whatever it is that lives in the lake.”

  “Your family?” Benedict asked, and he was dismayed when she shook her head.

  “My mom died a few years ago,” she said, her practical voice belying the thread of real grief underneath it. “Never got along with my dad, and I don't know where he is. Most boyfriends don't last for more than a few months.”

  They both lapsed into a pensive silence, and she laughed, suddenly self-conscious.

  “I don't know why I told you that,” she said softly, and he squeezed her impulsively in his arms.

  “Because it felt right,” Benedict said firmly. “Thank you for doing so.”

  She made a soft pleased sound, and then shook her head. “We need sleep,” she retorted. “We need to make sure that we recover, and sleep is going to be the thing that helps us do that.”

  Benedict sighed. �
�You're right. I think I'd like nothing more than to stay up and talk to you all night, but rest would be ideal.

  She whined adorably when he got up to bank the fire, and when he came back, she wrapped her soft limbs around his lanky frame as if she were a limpet.

  “Night,” she said around a deep yawn, and he nodded, murmuring it in return.

  The fire was down to orange coals, and in the space of a few moments, they were both asleep.

  ***

  Marcie awoke with no idea of where she was or what was going on. All she knew was that she was wrapped tight around a lean male form, and that she was listening to someone's soft, easy sleeping breath.

  For a moment, she thought she was in her own apartment sleeping next to one of her exes, but then her memory returned to her and she realized who it was and what she had been doing. She blushed a little to think of sleeping so close and so nakedly with someone she knew hardly at all, but she would be lying to herself—rather a lot!—if she said she didn't like it.

  Marcie snuggled a little further underneath the covers because the dark air outside of the sleeping bags was painfully cold. There was just the barest suggestion of an orange glow from the fire, and she could tell that it was likely hours yet till dawn. If she was smart, she would have closed her eyes and gotten some sleep, but there was something that kept her up, that made her feel wide awake and kept her heart thumping fast.

  She wondered for a moment if there was something wrong, if she had gotten sick, but instead, she realized that it must have been her attraction to the man who slept wrapped so close in her arms.

  Well, that's not a problem at all. She was half-amused at her own impulses and half-dismayed. There was nothing strange about her attraction. Lean men like Benedict had long been a weakness of hers, but there was definitely something wrong about craving a man while he was dead asleep. For a moment, she entertained the thought of the two of them actually being lovers, of how easy it would be to simply kiss him awake, and then she sighed.

  Maybe there would be time for that later. She was fairly sure that she hadn't imagined the attraction in his eyes, but there was plenty of time for that.

  As she got settled with her back to him, she felt him stir, and then he pressed himself against her back, wrapping his long arms around her waist.

  “You rolled away,” he said, and she giggled at the crankiness in his voice.

  “I wanted to be polite,” she retorted. “I was, um...”

  “Go on and say it,” he said, and there was a slight husky hint to his voice that sent a spear of heat straight through her. Neither of them moved, and the moment stretched between them, silent but full of possibilities.

  “I was afraid I couldn't keep my hands to myself,” she said finally. “Happy now?”

  “Immensely,” he replied. “Though I suppose I could be happier.”

  “Oh really?” Marcie replied, a sly grin on her face. “Why don't you tell me all about it?”

  “Well, I mean, there's—”

  Benedict hissed with surprised arousal when Marcie pressed her large, fleshy rear against him, snugging herself straight into his lap and his half-hard erection.

  “Woman, think about what you are doing,” he said, and Marcie was sure that it would have been more threatening by far if he had not had that needy, longing catch in his voice.

  “I am,” she retorted. “I am thinking all about it. I'm thinking about your hands all over me, and my hands all over you, and kissing you and scratching you up, pretty man...”

  Benedict groaned, and she felt those hard strong hands on her shoulders before she was turned over. Instead of rising over her, however, he simply lay on his side next to her and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was light at first, almost teasing, but then Marcie reached up and grabbed the tangle of dark hair at the nape of Benedict's neck, bringing him in for a deeper kiss that tangled their tongues.

  They both drew back for breath, and though his eyes were nearly black with desire, Benedict looked uncertain.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle, and she grinned.

  “I know what I want, never fear for that,” she said. “Just tell me this is what you want.”

  “Yes, I.... yes.”

  There was a strange catch in his voice that made her wonder, but then he was in her arms again, one leg thrown over her thighs and his erection pressed into her soft flesh.

  His lips were hot on hers, and when he brushed a long hand over the soft flesh of her round belly, she squirmed longingly.

  “So lovely,” he said, his voice soft with praise. “So beautiful, and rounded and perfect for me.”

  Marcie might have laughed at his dramatic words, but then his mouth was at her ear, lapping a burning path over the whorls before descending to her lobe. She gasped when he nipped at it sharply, sending sparks of sensation down her back and making her curl her toes with pleasure.

  “You're so lovely and responsive,” he murmured, and she sighed in agreement. She nudged her hip against his cock, and now she could feel it rise dark and hot between them. When she stroked it lightly with the tip of her fingers, she found that it was not terribly thick, but long, and she squirmed with how good it would feel.

  He laughed hoarsely at her touch on his body, and he nuzzled her.

  “Let me drive you crazy,” he whispered, and that was all the warning she got before he was pressing his mouth against her neck and nuzzling down. She whimpered when he pulled away, but then she forgot all about it as his hands drifted from one breast to the other. She thought he would pull and tug, but his touch remained feather light, teasing the most sensation that he could from her body and leaving her twisting for more.

  His skilled hands tripped down her sides, reaching down to her thighs and her knees before working his way up again. Every time she thought he would touch her between the legs, he skipped away, and finally, she grabbed him by the wrists, and spread her legs for him.

  Chuckling at her impatience, he traced his fingers along her slit up and down before finally having mercy and playing with her clit. As one hand pressed it lovingly, the other pressed two fingers inside her. She was dripping wet and moaning for him, and when he finally rose above her, she was beyond ready.

  “No, no, wait,” she hissed, and Benedict froze before squirming back away from her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously. “Too fast, was that too fast?”

  “No,” she said, her grin tight and bright. “Just, condoms. I'm sorry, I...”

  “No need to apologize,” he said, rolling on his back, “I should have thought of it myself, of course we can't...”

  “No, listen to me, there are some in the locker, I think...”

  Benedict lost no time in getting to the locker and feeling around frantically. Even the cold didn't soften his erection, and he came back triumphantly with a strip of condoms.

  “They're still good, too,” he said and she grinned.

  “Trust a golden eagle to be able to read the date even in this light,” she said.

  He handed her the condoms, and she tore one open. There was something soft and lovely about sliding it on his cock while he held her shoulders lightly, and it occurred to her that she was getting him ready just for her, all for her. He was like a beautiful instrument designed expressly for her pleasure, and he groaned, pushing his head against her forehead.

  “Now?” he asked, and she nodded.

  They were both on their sides, and now she scooted closer, throwing one leg over his hip. She was limber from years of tromping through the woods and yoga, and now she proved it by opening herself to him completely. Marcie felt the first touch of his cock against her sex, and she whimpered as he took it in hand.

  “Tease me,” she said, her voice low and urgent, and he complied, sweeping the tip of his cock up and down her slit. For a moment, he pressed it playfully against her asshole, making her gasp with surprise, but then he returned higher, getting it wet
in her juices.

  “You smell amazing,” he said thickly, leaning down to kiss her again.

  She could feel the pulse of his cock against her, and she knew that the burning desire in her could no longer wait.

  “Now,” she whispered. “Now, now, now, oh god, please...”

  With a single thrust, he was deep inside her, and she bucked up against him at the perfect shock of being completely and wonderfully filled. He was so deep inside her that her body was flush against his, and she looked up in his face, where she could just barely make out his eyes, throwing back the light of the fire.

  “Oh... oh god,” she whimpered, and he looked deep into her eyes.

  “Yes? You want more?”

  “Yes, oh yes...”

  He started to roll his hips against her. He wasn't thrusting so much as surging into her, and each thrust filled her with pleasure.

  It was wonderful, it was perfect, and then he reached down to play with her clit between his fingers, strumming it with that same rolling rhythm.

  Before she knew it, she was thrusting her hips at him, clinging to him hard with her arms and with her leg over his hips. She couldn't get enough, couldn't get close enough, couldn't have enough, and then he stroked at just the right time when he was deep inside her, and her world exploded in pleasure.

  He finished a moment after she did, but she was already lost to her own climax, drifting off to sleep in deep completion before he even pulled out of her body.

  ***

  Benedict, a day hunter when he was in his golden eagle form, awoke with the dawn. The night's exertions had left him with a twinge of soreness, but he rose to his feet as easily as he would have from his own bed.

  He stopped to tuck the blankets a little more snugly around Marcie's sleeping form, and watching her grumble and turn in her sleep, he had to smile.

  What a strange woman she was, and how fiercely she had fought him for something that might have killed her. Instead of angering him, it brought out a strange tenderness in him, and he reached down to brush her hair from her forehead, smiling softly.

 

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