Tempting the Dryad

by Rebecca Rivard

He swirled his tongue around her clit and then sucked it deep into his mouth. Her hips jerked and her inner muscles clamped on his finger. He removed it and she whimpered.

  “Don’t worry,” he soothed. “I know what you want.”

  He slid two fingers into her this time. Her breath hitched and he felt the first waves of pleasure moving through her. He continued stroking her while he teased her clit with his tongue. She called his name and arched her back as she came with a wild, uninhibited sensuality that had him growling in pleasure. Maybe she was a match for a fada male after all.

  He stayed with her until she collapsed forward, her head on his shoulder. Then he gentled his touch, bringing her down with slow, easy strokes until she lifted her head.

  “Yum.” It was almost a purr.

  He gave her a cocky smile. “It was good, yes?”

  She pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side. “Not bad.”

  So she still wanted to play? His smile widened. “Not bad, huh? I’ll give you not bad.”

  He stood up and lifted Alesia so that he was straddling the log and she was straddling him with her feet on either side of his legs, his cock pressed against her center. She was warm and wet from her climax. He stilled, his hands on her breasts.

  She sucked in a breath, waiting for him to do something, but he held motionless, toying with her nipples, his gaze on hers.

  “Tiago? Aren’t you going to move?” She rocked against him.

  “Me? I’m just enjoying you, Lesia. We can stay like this as long as you like.”

  She regarded him through half-closed lids. “But what if I want to move?”

  She lifted her hips and slid up and down his cock. Up and down…slowly. Then again, and again. Not taking him inside, but exploring his entire length with her slick, hot tissue.

  He stifled a groan. The woman was killing him. But he was damned if he’d break first.

  “Then,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers, “you have to admit that it was better than not bad. That it was, in fact, the most amazing fuck you ever had.” He pressed against her.

  She giggled. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then we can stay right here. I’m comfortable, aren’t you?” He leaned back, hands on the log behind him, lips curved.

  She considered him. “You do look comfortable. Too comfortable.” She enfolded his cock in her fingers and squeezed.

  Pleasure shot through him. He jerked and tightened his grip on the log, his gaze on the long, tanned fingers encircling him. “Damn, woman. You fight dirty.”

  “You think?” She grinned.

  Then she forgot to tease, absorbed in exploring him. Her hand slid over the smooth, sensitive skin of his cock, stretched tight over the engorged flesh beneath. She traced a thick vein to the root, brushing her fingertips over his balls, heavy with arousal. A drop of fluid glistened at the tip of his cap.

  She shifted onto her stomach and stretched out along the log facing him, her round, firm bottom in the air. Her tongue flicked out to taste him.

  Pleasure flashed through him, hot and electric.

  “Alesia,” he gritted. His hands were fisted on his thighs now. “Please. Have mercy.” He looked at her raised ass and had to close his eyes against the lurid pictures flooding his mind. The things he’d like to do to her…

  But she’d only had a handful of lovers—although you wouldn’t know it from the skillful way she was teasing him with her tongue.

  She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him as if she guessed his thoughts. Then she swirled her tongue around his cap and sucked him inside.

  His hands jerked up from his thighs and then fell back again. “Sim, menina,” he said, falling back on the language of his birth as his mind blanked with pleasure. “That’s it, baby. Take me. Take all of me.”

  She sucked harder, her tongue gliding over his hard flesh in a perfect rhythm. He brushed her hair back and grasped her head, holding her where he wanted her. He began to move his hips, slowly fucking her mouth.

  She swallowed on him and he made a low sound of enjoyment. “Tão bom,” he said in hoarse Portuguese. “So damn good.”

  She hummed her agreement and he felt it in his balls. Hell, all the way down to his toes. All he could do was groan.

  She dropped to her knees on the beach. Wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, she took him even deeper, swirling her tongue over him, sucking him to the back of her throat, working him with her hand.

  He opened his eyes so he could watch her mouth on him. It had to be the sexiest sight in the world, seeing her on her knees before him, his cock thrusting between her moist red lips.

  He tightened his grip on her head and pumped into her mouth, slowly and carefully so as not to go deeper than she could take.

  “Lesia—” His voice was gritty. “You’re so damn good at this. I should—” His head dropped back and he forgot to think, just let himself feel.

  * * *

  Alesia smiled against Tiago’s flesh.

  He tasted so good, hard and slick against her tongue, his flavor a mix of salt and spice. She had to grin at how he couldn’t help taking control, positioning her how he wanted, but still taking care with her in a way that made her heart contract.

  Right now, his mind was on only one woman—her, Alesia—and if she had her way, that was how it would be from now on. She was tired of waiting for the man to come to his senses.

  He was hers.

  It was time he acknowledged it.

  “Lesia. Sweet Lord. I’m going to come.”

  She sucked harder. He dragged in a breath and gripped her head, pressing deep. His hips jerked and his seed spurted into her mouth, briny as the sea. He stilled and groaned with pleasure, his cock jerking until he was drained.

  He released her head and put his hands on his thighs, gulping air. “Hell, woman. I saw stars.”

  She grinned and pressed a kiss to his thigh before coming to her feet. Picking up her waterskin, she filled it at the nearby spring. As she drank, Tiago leaned back on his elbows and watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, his expression holding a gleam of ownership that sent a frisson up her spine.

  It wasn’t going to be easy, mating with a shifter. But something in her—something deep and primal—wanted his possession, craved it.

  Still, that didn’t mean he got to have things all his own way. If the man owned her, she was going to demand some rights, too. Starting with no more trolling in bars for women. She was going to have to make it clear that this exclusive thing went both ways.

  She offered him the water. “Want some?”

  “Thanks.” He took a long drink, then reached for her hand. “Come—you’re getting goosebumps. Let’s get out of the wind.”

  He led her into the woods to a natural hollow protected from the chilly breeze that was blowing off the bay. It was late afternoon, the sun already low in the sky. Here in the trees everything was green and gold shadows. Together, the two of them fashioned a comfortable nest from leaves and dried grass. When they were finished, Tiago lay down and reached a hand to her.

  She lay next to him, head on his chest, taking care so as not to press on his bruises. Beneath her cheek, his heart beat slow and steady. She snuggled closer, breathing him in, and traced a finger over the black knots of his tattoo. His bicep bulged beneath her fingertip. The man’s arm was probably twice the size of hers.

  She remembered how uneasy he’d made her, the summer they’d first met. But even then, she hadn’t been afraid of him, just wary. Maybe she’d known even then that someday she’d be lying here with him in this cozy nest.

  He stroked her hair. “Thank you, querida,” he murmured.

  “For what?”

  “The gift of yourself.”

  Touched and bit amused, she threaded her fingers through the soft mat of black hair on his chest. Tiago might have been born in America but he could be very old-world European at times. She supposed it came from growing up in the insular world of the Rock Run clan. It
was only after Dion mated with Cleia that Rock Run had started to socialize with the local sun fae, and the Rising Sun compound was less than ten miles from Rock Run.

  “No thanks necessary.”

  “You liked it, hmm?”

  Her lips curved. Nobody could say the man lacked self-confidence. But she was too relaxed to tease him about it, and besides, his hand was sliding between her legs.

  “Next time, sweetheart,” he said against her ear, “I want to be inside you when you come. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A big, hard man, deep inside you?”

  Hot moisture pricked between her thighs. His middle finger found it, dipped inside, rubbed suggestively. At the same time he tongued the sensitive point at the top of her ear.

  Her breath snagged. “That would be nice,” she managed to say.

  “Oh, I promise it’ll be more than nice. But”—he removed his hand and rolled onto his back—“there’s something you need to know first.”

  She sensed his uneasiness through the mate bond, weak as it was. She lifted her head to look at him. “Tiago?”

  “You know I killed Benny, but what I didn’t tell you is how.” His throat worked. “My hand was around his throat, but that wasn’t how he died. I compelled him, Alesia. I told him to die and his heart stopped.”

  She felt the color drain from her face. She sat up. “You compelled him?”

  “Yes.”

  “But—I didn’t think fada could do that. Only witches and vampires can put a compulsion on someone.”

  He sat up as well and moved a few feet away. “The fada can’t,” he said flatly. “Only the monsters.”

  “Monsters? What do you mean?”

  “Do you remember Petros Okeanos? The leader of the men who kidnapped Valeria?”

  She swallowed. “You—you’re like him?”

  “Not exactly. But his Gift was a kind of compulsion. He had the power to bind people in an invisible net and then order their bodies to move like they were his puppets—that’s what he did to Valeria. It’s very rare—maybe one per clan in each generation, and maybe not even that many. He’s the only other fada I’ve ever known with a Gift even close to mine.”

  She slowly shook her head, taking it in. Then she stilled. “That acorn on my island? That was you. I—”

  He nodded, shamefaced. “I compelled it to grow—too fast—until it just blew apart. I’m sorry, Lesia. I was pissed off—not at you, at myself—but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have done it.”

  She recalled the primal scream the tiny oak had given and felt a little sick. “Are you sure? Maybe you’re wrong about Benny. Maybe he had a weak heart anyway.”

  He glanced away. “It wasn’t the first time. Well, it was the first time I actually killed someone with my Gift, but once I forced—compelled—a man to freeze. Then I slit his throat.”

  She stared at him, chest tight. This was Tiago, she reminded herself. Her mate. Her friend. The man who brought her flowers and candy. The man who’d just given her one of the best orgasms of her life.

  But suddenly the stories she’d heard about the fada were running through her head. And those missions when he’d come back with a hard face and burning eyes…

  This wasn’t dark magic. No, this was worse—it was part of him.

  She swallowed hard. “I’ll have to think about this.”

  “Of course,” he replied, his face expressionless. “I understand.”

  She rubbed her hands over her upper arms. “I’m cold. I—let me get my clothes.” She rose to her feet.

  He stood up as well. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. Please don’t. You need to heal—and I need to get back home. Okay?” She touched his chest apologetically and started backing up.

  He remained where he was, hands fisted at his sides.

  But as she turned away, suddenly he was in front of her, blocking her way.

  She blinked. “Tiago?”

  He didn’t say anything, just took hold of her upper arms and scrutinized her with eyes a bright, pure silver. His expression was hard, watchful. She knew she was looking at his animal—and it was staring back as if she were prey.

  “Don’t go.” His voice was guttural. His will beat at her with a force that made her stagger. He gripped her more tightly but kept up the pressure.

  With an effort, she gathered her own resources and pushed back. “Stop it, Tiago.”

  He ignored her to cup her jaw. “Don’t go,” he repeated. “Stay with me, Lesia.” His voice softened into a seductive croon that slid over her skin, teased at her breasts, made her womb clench. “You know you want me.”

  She tilted her head, leaning into his warm palm. Every part of her body prickled with awareness.

  It would be so easy to give in to him. So damn easy. After all, it would only be what she wanted, too. She closed her eyes, tempted. So tempted.

  “That’s it.” A soft, persuasive murmur. “You’re mine, little fawn. We both know it.”

  No. Not like this. Even through the lustful haze he’d induced, she knew it was wrong. She opened her eyes and removed his hand from her face.

  His nostrils flared, but he didn’t try to stop her as she stepped back. The pressure on her dissolved as if it had never been.

  She felt oddly bereft. Then her brows snapped together. “Did you just use it on me?”

  He moved a shoulder. His eyes were slowly regaining their blue tint, but he still had that watchful expression.

  “Damn you,” she said through clenched teeth. “What’s the matter with you? You have no right to try and force me to stay. You—”

  “Go,” he barked.

  She jumped and took a step back, gaze locked on his face. “I—”

  His growl ripped through the clearing.

  She gulped. “I’m going, I’m going.” She took another few steps back and then turned and hurried through the trees. Walking at first, and then moving faster and faster until by the time she reached the beach she was running.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hell. Tiago listened as Alesia crashed through the trees with none of her usual grace. The sounds halted, and then everything was still, save for a lone robin scolding nearby.

  He scowled and scraped his fingers through his hair.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have told Alesia about his Gift. But Dion, Cleia and Marjani knew. Jorge and Benny had seemed to as well, although he didn’t know how. Maybe Okeanos had sensed it in Tiago, although five years ago, he hadn’t even known himself.

  But now that it was out, word would spread, and he’d wanted Alesia to hear it first from him. He owed it to her, as both a friend and a lover.

  But he should’ve given her time to absorb it. Hell, they’d only just become lovers, and then he’d dropped a fucking bombshell on her.

  Man, he was an idiot. He lowered himself into the grassy nest they’d made for themselves and sat with his head in his hands.

  He’d been right to tell Alesia about his Gift; in fact, he probably should’ve done it before now.

  But what in the name of everything holy had induced him to let it loose on her? Because that had been all him. Sure, the beast had freaked when it saw her backing away and instinctively tried to stop her, but Tiago hadn’t even attempted to interfere. No, he’d been a willing partner. In that moment, he’d have sold his own soul to keep her with him.

  Which come to think of it, was pretty much what he’d done.

  He dropped onto his back to stare bleakly up at the sky. He’d never felt so alone in his life. Even after his parents had been lost at sea, he’d had his brothers and Rosana and the rest of the clan. But now his Gift was a wedge between him and the rest of the world. Even Alesia was afraid of him.

  He shook his head and curled up on his side. The beast stretched and pushed beneath his skin, urging him to shift and go after their woman, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it and after a while it subsided.

  He must have slept then, because when he opened his eyes again, it wa
s pitch black. He came to his feet and gave a tentative stretch. Thanks to Cleia, he was healing even more rapidly than normal. He was still sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

  He debated spending the night on this deserted stretch of shore, but his animal was still agitated at the loss of Alesia. It would be happier in the water, and so would he.

  A few minutes later he was swimming as his river dolphin. His belly rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten for hours. He sent out a series of rapid clicks to scan for food and with a few minutes had located a school of bluefish.

  His hunger satisfied, he started across the top of the bay. About halfway back to Rock Run, he met up with a couple of wild bottlenose males, and after some posturing and tail-slapping, established that he was their dominant. He spent the night with the bottlenoses, dozing in the way of a dolphin, one side of the brain awake while the other slept, so that he could surface every few minutes to breathe.

  His dreams were dark, restless. He was back in the rowhouse with Benny and Jorge, the blows raining endlessly on his body, and then Benny’s face changed to Dion’s, furious at being compelled, until Tiago wrenched himself awake and shot to the surface, sucking in air through his blowhole.

  He fought sleep until his still-healing body overcame him. This time, he caressed his way down Alesia’s taut little body, and saw her flinch and turn away when she realized just how dark he really was. Then she was darting through the trees and he knew that if he didn’t catch her, compel her, he’d lose her forever.

  No. By the gods, no.

  His whole body shuddered. He awoke to find himself once more at the surface, gulping oxygen through his blowhole.

  He would not lose Alesia—but neither was he going to compel her, ever again. Right then and there, he swore a binding vow, the kind that would cause him serious damage if he broke it.

  But on the other hand, he wasn’t going to give her up. He’d allow her some time to cool down, to absorb what he’d told her and then he was going after her. She’d started this and he was damned if he’d let her back off now. She’d just have to deal with what he was.

  Hell, who was he kidding? He’d go down on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. Because a life without her in it didn’t bear thinking about.