Stone Destiny (Stone Passion #3)

by Warneke, A. C.

  Heat crawled up her belly, over her chest and into her cheeks as she started to bend down to pick up the discarded garments. But Armand’s fingers circled her wrist, stopping her from gathering up her clothes. Warily, she watched him as he held her arm out to the side and devoured her with his eyes. Slowly, his gaze moved up her body, caressing her skin from her toes to her forehead, and he whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

  A sultry smile curved her lips as she held her body still, letting him look his fill. Holding her eyes, he jerkily pulled his shirt over his head and she had to remind herself to breathe in the face of his masculine perfection. It had been a lifetime since she had seen his naked body beneath the sun and to her astonishment tears came to her eyes because Armand was made to live in the sun yet he was confined to the night.

  He was in front of her a heartbeat later, wrapping her in his arms, his midnight scent filling her oxygen deprived lungs, her love starved soul. His skin was hot, instantly burning away the coldness that had been building up within her heart. His green eyes glowed with concern as they moved over her face, trying to figure out what was wrong. “What is it? What causes these tears?”

  “Nothing,” she said because in that moment everything was nearly perfect, smiling brilliantly up at the man that held her heart. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss over his thudding heart. His face went through a host of emotions, concern, confusion, bemusement, lust, as she peppered the warm, salty skin of his chest with kisses, as she ran her tongue along the pulsing vein of his throat, as she urged him backwards, falling on top of him as he tripped and fell to the ground.

  His startled laugh became a groan as she nibbled along his neck, as she captured his earlobe between her teeth. He wrapped his hot hands around her upper arms, his fingers tightening as she rocked her pelvis against the hard ridge of his erection. With how hard he was holding on she knew that she was going to have bruises on her arms but she didn’t care. If this was all she was going to have of him she would take every bruise and savor it.

  Slowly nipping, licking, kissing every inch of his skin, from his forehead to his belly button, she tore at the front of his breeches, pulling them apart, accidentally ripping the bone buttons off in the process. Tugging at the material, she grunted, “Lift.”

  With an amused smile and burning eyes, Armand raised his hips and she tore the pants from his delectable body. The hose and shoes were quick to follow and she sat back on her heels, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of a naked Armand.

  He was so perfectly formed, with muscles that were large but not bulky, sleek and marvelous. His shoulders were broad, able to hold the weight of the world. His chest was deep, able to love more deeply than he could ever imagine if only he would let himself love and be loved. His stomach and ribs were ridged with muscles, carved from stone, his thighs were rock hard and his calves curved provocatively. But his penis was a work of art in and of itself, curving slightly towards his belly. The marble column had a thick vein that pulsed with blood to his throbbing mushroom head and she licked her lips in anticipation.

  His cock twitched and her eyes went to his, a sexy smirk on her lips for the effect she had on him. His grin was equally sensual and she wanted to devour him whole. Slowly, holding his green gaze, she kissed her way up his luscious legs, hearing his breath catch in his throat, “What are you doing?”

  “Loving you,” she whispered, her hot breath moving over the skin of his cock a second before she wrapped her lips around the heated flesh and closed her eyes in ecstasy. The essence of Armand filled her mouth, the midnight musk that made her forget that it wasn’t her body, it wasn’t her life. In that meadow, with the sun shining down on her naked skin, as she made love to Armand, nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

  His hand settled on her head, pushing her hair out of the way so he could watch. His eyes darkened even further as he gently rolled his hips and his breathing became labored. “How much of me do you want?”

  Pulling her lips off his penis with a pop, she looked at him and fell in love all over. With a voice thick with lust and love, she breathed, “All of you.”

  His head fell back as he groaned and he thrust deeper, sending the tip of his cock to the back of her throat. Ignoring the instinct to gag, she swallowed and relaxed, taking him as deep as possible, wishing she could swallow him whole. His fingers curled into her hair, the slight pain only adding to her pleasure. His other arm was bent beneath the back of his skull, raising his head up just enough so he could see what she was doing.

  With a wicked grin, she slid her mouth off, releasing him with another audible pop. His big body shuddered as he looked at her with half- closed eyes. With a grunt, he asked, “Too much?”

  Idly drawing figure eights on the skin of his inner thigh, occasionally placing light kisses along his shaft, she casually asked, "I was just wondering how long it would take you to recover if I brought you to completion with my mouth because I want to ride this beautiful cock beneath the sun and if it takes too long to recover…”

  Letting the worlds trail off, her heart galloping madly in her chest, she raised her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “I think I’d rather ride….”

  “You’d be surprised at how quickly I can recover, madam,” he purred, his cheeks taut with need. Trailing a finger along her cheek, his eyes moving over her face, his expression almost tender, he whispered, “With you I find I have extraordinary stamina.”

  She smiled before taking him once more into her mouth, filling the forest with sucking and moaning. Tears streamed from her eyes, from the penetrating thrusts of his penis to the joy and sorrow that she had another moment with him. Her jaw was beginning to ache from being held open for so long but she wouldn’t stop even if she had all of the time in the world. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how much time Fray was going to give her and she really, really wanted to ride his beautiful body beneath the heat of the sun.

  Tenderly, she ran her fingers up his thigh, reached between his legs and lightly grazing the silky flesh of his sac. His hips jerked, sending his cock deeper and his breath hitched in his throat. His thrusts quickened and became more erratic, his moans filling her ears. Boldly, she moistened her middle finger and slid it lower, following the line of his perineum to the tightly puckered flesh of his gorgeous bottom.

  As he twitched, she pressed the finger just past the tight opening. His entire body went rigid as his back arched off the ground and he cried out, coming with such force it overfilled her mouth. As his body trembled back to earth, she licked him clean, lapping up the musky ambrosia and wishing she had forever.

  “My gods, woman,” he breathed, his chest heaving as if he had just run a hundred miles. Sweat glistened on his skin and little aftershocks of pleasure continued to work their way through his body. “Where did you learn such tricks?”

  She smiled smugly, delighted to have given him so much pleasure. Her joy was only tempered by the thought that it could all end at any moment and she didn’t know if she would have any more time with him or if this was it, if this stolen hour was going to be the last time she saw him.

  God, she didn’t want to think about it and she sure as shit didn’t want to think about her last moments with him back in the real world. She just wanted to immerse herself in Armand so she didn’t have to think at all. Arching an eyebrow at his indolent smile, his half-closed eyes, she asked, “So, are you ready for the next round?”

  He chuckled and let out a satisfied breath. “Minx. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  She violently shook her head no, not even allowing him to joke about something so awful. “Never.”

  After a moment of silence, the laughter fading from his eyes, he murmured, “It’s strange. My brothers – my older brothers – wanted to kill me for bringing you into our world but I am finding that I have no regrets.”

  At first his words made no sense until Katrina’s memories filtered into Ferris’s consciousness. Armand had defied his older brothers and bro
ught her to the estate shortly after she had given him her virginity. He had told them that he was going to give up his nights for her, ignoring their vocal objections. Because he promised to marry her, her family had let her go, grateful to have one less daughter to marry off. Katrina knew he didn’t love her but she didn’t care because she had enough love in her heart for both of them.

  She remembered her first meeting with his brothers, the three that ignored her and the two that welcomed her with open arms. Vaughn and Rhys. She remembered Rhys because he commented on the similarity of their eyes, the rich brown color that was a sign of high intelligence and a witty sense of humor.

  Why did Katrina abandon him? How could she abandon him? She shook her head to clear her head of Katrina's memories since they didn't show the future.

  His thumb brushed over her lower lip and on instinct she kissed the pad. His smile was warm as he murmured, "I think this will work out very nicely.”

  Not wanting to consider the implications of his words, she grinned teasingly, slinking up his body until she straddled his hips, his semi-hard penis between her legs. “So, does that mean you’re good to go?”

  “You speak so strangely at times,” he laughed, putting his hands on her thighs and absently running his palms over the smooth skin of her legs, making her body quicken in anticipation.

  “You’re stalling,” she countered, circling her hips and watching his eyes glaze over as he felt the damp heat of her sex right against his penis. His surprisingly fully erect penis. Her lips parted in elated amazement and she raised her body up just enough to get his erection in exactly the right spot.

  Holding his glorious eyes, she slowly lowered herself onto him, feeling him stretch her, feeling him touch her soul. It was her body now, hers completely, and she was making love with Armand one last time. A wealth of emotion played across his face, in the depth of his green eyes, from lust to astonishment to something deeper, something almost tangible. As she sat impaled on him, barely moving, simply enjoying the feel of him in her body, she rejoiced in the moment.

  Almost reverently, he reached up and cupped her breasts in his large, warm hands, his thumbs grazing her nipples. She placed her hands over his, holding him against her. If she only held on tight enough he would never leave. Undulating her hips, she lost herself in his eyes, drowning in a sea of green glass and praying the glass didn’t shatter until she was safely on shore, knowing the glass had shattered long ago, scarring her for eternity.

  “You have the most extraordinary eyes,” he breathed in awe, his hips matching her slow, soul-searing rhythm. “Like the color of the sea after a storm, when everything is clean and pure. I could drown in your eyes.”

  How could she resist? Leaning forward, she took his words into her mouth, kissing him with all of the love in her heart, showing him the fathomless depths of her devotion. She pressed her tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him, to drink of him. As long as she had this moment the world could go on without her because she had all eternity with this one kiss.

  Lost in his kisses, the feel of his lips against her cheek, her jaw, she almost missed his awe-struck words, “Gods, you smell good, like sunshine and freedom.”

  Pushing herself up, barely noticing the blue of her nails, she smiled down at him, “Sunshine and freedom?”

  A hint of color stained his cheeks but he grinned roguishly up at her. Wrapping his arms around her, he flipped them until she was on her back and he loomed over her, asserting his dominance. “Yes, pet, sunshine and freedom.”

  “Do you love me?” she asked recklessly.

  “I could,” he said, covering her lips with his own once again and she was lost to the world.

  Chapter 18

  The Truth is Cruel

  Ferris lay in the bed in the bedroom at the estate of the gargoyles, smiling up at the ceiling. She was insanely happy, even though she knew it wouldn’t last, that it couldn’t last, because it wasn’t her life. She didn’t belong in the Elizabethan age, no matter how interesting it was to live without electricity and fast food and her MP3 player and a gazillion other conveniences of the modern world. The fashions were complicated and fussy and half of the time she feared the pins holding her elaborate costume together would fall out and she would find herself naked.

  A frown marred her forehead because since she had taken over Katrina’s body, Ferris had only really worn her chemise and light weight kirtle, or overdress. It was as if her memories were being melded together with Katrina’s, which was awkward. Ignoring the implications of her memories becoming tainted, she relived the afternoon she had just spend with her beloved Armand.

  After their erotic escapades in the forest, she had been allowed to stay with him in Katrina's body and they had talked. Oh, they didn’t talk about anything deep, just light hearted flirting, but she had enjoyed spending time with him being young and silly. Armand was funny and teasing and witty and so flirtatious. She hadn’t laughed so hard in ages and it felt good. It felt really good. No matter what happened next she had no regrets because she got to see a side of Armand that no longer existed, had ceased to exist the moment Katrina refused her gift, something Ferris still didn’t understand.

  The longer she stayed with him the stronger her conviction became about what she had to do.

  She felt her dragon’s presence at her side and she rolled over to face the golden pocket dragon, a large smile curving her lips, “Thank you, Fray.”

  He nodded his head in acknowledgment but he didn’t reply with words. Instead, he curled into a ball and settled in against her stomach, prepared to go to sleep. But Ferris was too wired with the events of the day, her plans for the night, to sleep. “Fray, I’m going to accept his gift.”

  The dragon sucked in a breath through his teeth, making a hissing sound. Taking it as an objection, Ferris turned her head and looked at him, “What’s wrong?”

  He looked at her with his jeweled eyes for a moment, almost as if he expected her to figure out why he would have any reservations. She stared back, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say why it was a stupid idea. Ignoring the rumblings of unease in her belly, she arched an eyebrow and waited. Finally, he let out the breath and sighed, “It’s not your life, Ferris, you’re not the one who would get to live as a gargoyle by his side.”

  “I know,” she admitted, lowering her lashes to hide the unexpected pain from him. Licking her lips, she tried to speak but her voice was rough and it took a moment before she said, “I just want him to be happy.” With a slight smile, she looked back to the ceiling, “I mean I’ve never seen him so happy, so relaxed, as he was today. How can I take that away from him?”

  “So you martyr your own happiness?” Fray asked softly.

  She let out a painful laugh, “What happiness, Fray? My heart has been bleeding practically non-stop for thirty years. I have nothing left to bleed, Fray. I’m simply out of blood. If Katrina accepts his gift – if I accept his gift on her behalf – then maybe neither of us will suffer so much in the future.”

  Fray was silent for a long, long time and Ferris turned back to her ruminations, going over the plans. Tomorrow was the new moon and with it the completion of the spell. They would be able to complete the spell at any time after the sun went down but before it came back up the next morning. By that time, she would have accepted his gift and she would join him on the roof as a gargoyle.

  No, Katrina would be joining him on the roof. Ferris wasn’t sure what was going to happen to her. Maybe she would return to her present and watch Armand from afar, all the while learning how to live without her heart. It would be strange seeing him, remembering a history that never was.

  God, that was too deep. Shaking her head of the complicated thoughts, she let out a sigh; he was going to get the girl and cease being encased in ice. With a voice thick with emotion and tears, she spoke into the silence, “He deserves this joy, Fray, and I don’t want to take it away from him.”

  “Do you want to see their f
uture?” Fray asked, his deep voice interrupting her thoughts and bringing her crashing back to the moment. “Do you want to see what happens if Katrina accepts his nights?’

  Slowly, she sat up and looked at the dragon in disbelief with a huge dose of anticipation and an itty-bitty dash of dread. “You’ll let me see?”

  “Because it is a probably future you will just be an observer this time,” he warned, standing and stretching his wings out. At her eager nod, he smiled sadly, “I must warn you: if you accept his gift on Katrina's behalf, this will be my last act, my last gift, as your dragon.”

  “What? No!” Ferris shrieked, reaching for her beloved Fray but she was already hurtling through space, a million miles away. Her body felt like it was being pressed flat by the speed with which she travelled. It was as if she was two dimensional and if someone were to view her from the side there would be nothing there.

  Holding her hand up in front of her face, her movement slow and deliberate, she twisted her arm to the side to see if she was, in fact, two dimensional. Her brain felt like it was a blob of gelatin and so her thoughts were sluggish, telling her that if she were 2D then she wouldn’t be able to distinguish a third dimension.

  She was a 2D girl living in a 3D world.

  Her odd thoughts combined with the horror of losing Fray made her giggle, the sound tinny in the vortex of her strange journey. It hadn’t been like this when she went back in time. Why was going forward in time so much… weirder? Abruptly, she slammed into a wall, her 2D body clinging to the curves and the corners of a three dimensional form, a patina of Ferris over a frozen statue.