A Very Special Man

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A Very Special Man Page 4

by Deborah MacGillivray


  Simon...her mind whispered; it felt like coming home. In some ways in her heart, she’d never grown up, always believing in faerytales and wishes that come true. Here was her chance...if only she were brave enough. Life had often tried to beat her down, to take away her hopes, teaching her to dream was to open herself up to disappointment and pain. It felt like stepping off a cliff, but as she stared up into the amber eyes she knew Simon would ‘catch her’.

  “Kiss me, Simon. Fill this empty ache inside me I’ve lived with for too long. My heart has so much love to give.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” Simon smiled. “Touch me...please. I loved how you stroked me before; it made me yearn for those soft hands to touch the real me. I used to lie here in this bed at night and watch you and dream, yearn, crave. You are so beautiful, and I wanted you so much.”

  She reached up and stroked his face, his planes and shadows merging to form a countenance that enthralled her with its perfection. The long eyelashes, the intensely focused eyes, the aristocratic nose, and high cheekbones all saw Simon Ravensdale everything a woman could dream of. Resisting her deepest dream a woman would have to be foolish. And while she was scared of being hurt, she was never foolish.

  She put her arms around his neck, letting her fingers twine in this thick waves of the blue-black curls. “Want me, Simon. I need to be wanted very badly, I need to be loved.”

  “I shall cherish you, worship you, adore you.” Simon nuzzled her cheek, then chained kisses along her jawline.

  Her heart pounded, erratic, as his soft lips traveled down the column of her neck where he paused to suck on the pulse point where her blood throbbed strongest. Her flesh stung, as she felt the graze of his teeth. She had a feeling Simon’s teeth were a wee bit sharper than an ordinary male.

  He raised up, conquest glittering in his pale amber eyes. “I marked you, my love―my first sign of possession. I shall mark you many more times before I am through. Understand, my dearest Dezzy, I am feral in many ways. I mate for life...same as a wolf. Does that alarm you?”

  Soft laughter bubbled in her throat. “Alarm me? It terrifies me, Simon. But I think it’s a trait a woman would kill to experience.” Laughter died as her lower lip quivered with emotion. All shields down, she admitted, “It’s what I need.”

  “I can give you that and more, lass,” he promised.

  Her smile was weak, still afraid to dare accept. “Show me, Simon.”

  “It would be my intense pleasure.” He brushed a soft kiss over her lips, so light like the flutter of butterfly wings. Relishing every tiny touch, his eyes studied her small reactions.

  Desdemona couldn’t think, could hardly draw air. She turned into a being of sensations, lost to the power of overwhelming emotions, of the sensual response to his nearness, his heat. His potent pheromones washed over her, through her, priming her body for her surrender...his possession. There was only Simon and this breath-stealing shard of time, a space where for once magic ruled.

  The light kisses weren’t enough; she wanted more. Using the leverage of her arms around his neck, she tried to pull him to her. Only, Simon’s strength was amazing and he literally raised her off the bed to sit, teasing her, pleased by her demonstration of hunger.

  “Kiss me, Simon,” she whispered against his mouth. “Really kiss me.”

  He hesitated for a heartbeat, his eyes dancing from merriment. “Well, if you insist.”

  His mouth took her savagely, devouring, demanding, sending her insides to twist into a knot of need. Feeling heavy, her breasts pressed against his chest. She gasped surprise then pleasure as his hands grabbed the hem on the red sweater, and with a quick twist skimmed it up her body and over her head, leaving her bare for his inspection. He just stared at her, his thoughts unreadable. A moment of fear flashed through her almost making her want to cover her breasts with her arms. But then he moved, those big hands with long elegant fingers gently cupping their weight, then finally, his thumbs lightly brushing her stiffened nipples.

  “Ahhhh.” The sound escaped from her throat. She swallowed hard, relishing the sensations he brought to her body. She burned, aching as never before, yet knew this was only the beginning.

  “I used to watch you sleeping...it nearly drove me insane not being able to touch you how I wanted. He suddenly grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, pushing her down the canopied bed to the footboard. His lips spread into a slow smile; he leaned her back against the cross rail, then stretched her arms out along its length. “Grab the railing and don’t let go.”

  The wood was hard at her back, but she paid little attention. The half-inclined position left her large breasts displayed up high. There was no hiding from him. Not moving, Simon looked at her. Savoring the moment? Allowing the anticipation to build? She couldn’t tell what he was doing, just knew she was ready to scream.

  Then he finally touched her, putting those strong hands on her waist, then squeezing. He worked them slowly up her ribcage until his thumbs were under her breasts. They brushed back and forth in a soft fashion, nearly touching the tips of her nipples, yet just as she sucked in a breath in expectancy, they’d retreat to start the maddening sweep again. As his palms finally covered her breasts, he leaned forward and nuzzled her neck and gave her a stinging nip.

  She sighed pleasure as he squeezed her rounded flesh. “Simon, my what sharp teeth you have.”

  Lifting his head, he wiggled his eyebrows. “What did that Red Riding Hood person say, ‘My, what a big tongue you have?’”

  “Simon, I don’t recall grannie’s tongue ever being mentioned.” Desdemona laughed, feeling all the sorrows she’d carried for the past three years fade away. With Simon love was new, it was special. A gift. A treasure.

  He joined her laugh. “Pity that.” He dragged his tongue down her neck to the tip of her breast, then lifted his head. “Tongues...are...such...useful...things. It shall be my pleasure to enlighten you just how useful.”

  He swirled it around the crest of her breast, making her arch as his hot mouth sent desire to knife through her womb; the agony of yearning blotted out all thoughts. She could only accept the pleasure he wielded. Suddenly, he stopped drawing circles around her nipple with his tongue and took it into his mouth sucking hard, rhythmically. A deep keen rose in her throat as her body arched against him, seeking that hard body, needing more...so much more. Then suddenly, that shimmering grandeur was there. The climax slammed into her, pushing her to that shining hot pinnacle. Hardly able to hold her head up, she moaned.

  His mouth released her breast as he rocked back on his haunches to watch the emotions play out across her face. “I knew it,” he pronounced smugly. “I knew you’d come just like that. You’re so responsive, my Dezzy.”

  Words and responses were beyond her. The force of the climax still rippled within her body. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him inside her, wanted to be one with him. She wrapped her legs about his waist and her arms around his strong neck, nearly sitting on his rock hard thighs.

  “Simon the Smug.” She kissed his smiling mouth.

  His hand splayed across the middle of her back, easily providing the balance to keep her upright. “Hmm...Simon says you didn’t ask may I for permission to release your hold on the rail.”

  With a sharp thrust of his hips, he was inside her, filling her. She had to take several breaths to adjust to his hot, pulsing flesh. Then they were one. Never had she felt as if she truly belonged to another, but to this very special man, the bond was of the flesh, but also of the heart. This was a mating of two souls, fusing them into a single existence.

  “Simon, may I―”

  “Simon says Dezzy is mine,” he teased. Then seriousness flooded his face. “Thank you for saving me, giving my life back again. Thank you for giving me the most wonderful gift.” Then the wicked grin was back as he lowered her to the bed’s plane. “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...”

  His body slammed inside of hers and didn’t let up. He gave. A
nd kept giving.

  ***

  Wrapping the towel around his waist, Simon stepped from the shower, then leaned close to Desdemona, kissing her softly. He liked kissing Dezzy. “You smell clean, my love. Like lemons. I liked that about you when I first came. You did not wear fussy a perfume that would make me sneeze.” His lips moved over hers again, then his hand grabbed her hips and yanked her close. “I also like the scent of me on you.”

  Desdemona pushed at his chest, nearly growling her frustration. “Stop that, Simon. We have to eat. It’s nearly midnight.”

  He chuckled. “Feed the kitty?”

  “Let me adjust to you, please. The image you were―”

  “Are...” he corrected.

  With a deep sigh of coming to grips with the enormity, Desdemona nodded. “Okay, are...will be you changing...a lot? You have been with me for most of this year and you never changed into a man before.”

  “I couldn’t. You broke the spell with your wish and the kiss. I don’t change at the full moon, Dezzy. In fact, I don’t have to change at all. The Cait Sidhe shift the first time when they turn seventeen. After that, there are only eight more changes left within our lifetime. Generally, you never change the last time, because you will remain in cat form until you die.” He shrugged. “So lore says. I have never known any like me besides my mother. Legend says the Cait Sidhe stopped taking cat form for fear of being hunted down and burnt at the stake during the Burning Times.”

  “That’s sad. The world needs more magic. Instead, it would be destroyed from fear or exploited.” She reached out and touched his cheek, feeling her regret that humankind was often less than worthy of the gifts life bestows upon them. “Let’s get dressed. I’ll be able to concentrate better on the situation, and try to figure out what we’re going to do, with you in clothes and food in my stomach.” She pulled out a baggy sweater and sweat pants from the chest that would work for Simon and tossed them at his midsection. “Make do with these. I’ll order some things online after we eat, since there won’t be getting anywhere near the shopping mall tomorrow. I’ll get second day delivery.”

  “Wal-Mart opens at 6 a.m.” Simon slid on her black jog pants and her oversized sweater. When she just stared at him, he asked, “What bothers you, my love?”

  She chuckled. “How do you know about Wal-Mart?”

  “I watched the vision box. Very informative. I like cartoons best.” He looked down at the clothes as if finding it strange to be wearing them. “These shall do for now, though I shall need to be concerned with finding a proper tailor. I am especially delighted I shan’t have to take tongue baths any longer.” He leaned close pressing her back against the bedpost, his tongue tracing a path up the side of her neck. “Delicious Dezzy. I wouldn’t mind teaching you just how good I am with my tongue.”

  “Simon, please...we have to talk.” She somehow got the words out. “This is all very well that you’re back to being a human, but I have concerns...about us. You don’t have papers that are needed in this world today. Birth certificates...”

  “That can be gotten around, I would assume. People with money can arrange anything.” He shrugged.

  “Simon, while I do own this house and have a little money Gran left me, I’m not rich, not the sort of money it’d take to fix your situation.”

  “Not to worry. Still afraid to truly believe in magic, Dezzy? Everything will be fine.” His large hands smoothed across her hips and then jerked her hard against his strong body, letting her feel his erection. “What concerns you, my love?”

  “Well, there’s the matter of how we will live―”

  “We shall live together as man and wife―”

  “Simon, hmm, you’re over three hundred years old. I mean...are you immortal? If you are, then what about me? I will grow old―”

  His chest vibrated with what could be a purr. “You worry too much, Dezzy. Just accept. You wanted a very special man. I don’t think you can get more special than I am.”

  Her laughter popped out. “Ah, yeah, you’re very special. Simon, could we have a conversation without you ending up trying to seduce me?”

  “No. I like seducing you. I think I shall spend my life seducing you, my countess.”

  “Whoa, I’m not a countess―”

  “You soon will be.” His pale eyes suddenly softened with concern, maybe fear. “Will you not?”

  She huffed her exasperation, her pain. “That’s just it. Life isn’t a dream, Simon. There’s the question of papers. We cannot get married without them. You don’t have a birth certificate, for all purposes you don’t really exist; possibly you are in this country illegally. The government tends to frown on someone who materializes from thin air―

  “Actually, it was very thick fog,” he kidded drolly.

  “Simon, fixing stuff like that will take more money than I have,” she argued, fretting over a hundred imagined scenarios―all bad.

  Simon shrugged. “I am not troubled. Things will sort themselves out in due time.”

  “Then there is the problem of us...”

  “Us? I love you, and already you are coming to grips with loving me. Everything else will be fine. What I do not already know about this world from watching the box, you can teach me. Maybe we can hire that guy―Thomas Magnum to fix things,” he suggested in earnest.

  “Simon, not all the people on the box are real. Thomas Magnum is an old detective show―a play.” She chuckled, hugging him. “Just actors―like on a stage. But that isn’t the biggest obstacle,” she exhaled in worry. “If you’re immortal, you shall stay young and beautiful, while my hair turns grey.”

  “Better than it falling out,” he teased, flashing an unrepentant grin.

  She hit him in the chest, but not hard. There was no force behind her punch, only fear and pain. Suddenly, she broke into tears, crumbling against him and crying. His strong arms closed about her.

  “Hush, my love. You fret about things that will be sorted out in the course of our lives. Money fixes things. Though the world has changed a very great deal since I last walked as Simon the Man, that is a constant, is it not? We just need to concentrate on each other, and all else matters little.” When she kept crying he lifted her chin with the crook of his index finger. “Ah, Dezzy, please don’t cry. It breaks my heart. Tell me why you shed tears? Is it for certificates of birth, bills and grey hairs? Mon dieu! I was a bloody cat for the last three centuries. If I can prevail over all the obstacles in my path to come halfway around the world to find my way to you, do you think grey hair and bills can be but a trifling?”

  “To find me?” she asked in awe, yet still too scared to let go and just believe Simon was here and was hers.

  “You and only you, with your loving heart could’ve broken my enchantment. Allow me to walk as a man once more. Without your pure love, your belief in dreams, the magic would never have happened. Do you love me, Desdemona?” he asked, serious.

  So strange, they’d only known each other in this fashion for one day, yet she sensed she belonged to Simon. Desperately, she wanted everything he promised to be real. Yet, she was too petrified to risk letting herself love him the way she wanted, the way she yearned to.

  “Dezzy, you fear I shall stay young while you grow old? If I remove that barrier, will you trust we can solve anything else that arises?” he asked.

  She frowned. “How can you remove that? You’ve lived for over three centuries.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Ah, Dezzy, I can work magic. I cannot make you as I am. Only, if you truly love me, want me, then you have the power to change me to be like you. Just press the seal on my collar.”

  Desdemona brushed her thumb pad across the crest. “If I do what happens?”

  “The collar falls off.”

  “That’s it, the collar falls off? How does that change you?” She ran her index finger over the seal showing a cat rampant with wings.

  “Once you push that crest and the collar is released, I no longer will be able to shi
ft. I become human, and shall age just as you do,” Simon explained.

  Glancing up into his beautiful eyes, Desdemona searched his face. Reaching up she traced the perfection of how he was created. To think of him changing and growing old simply so he could share a few years with her seemed too much to ask of him. She couldn’t do that to Simon.

  She shook her head. “I can’t ask that of you. You’re very, very special, it’s not my right to change you into something other than you are. You gave me companionship when my life was so depressing. You showed me real magic does exist. I can’t take something very rare from you like that.”

  “Take?” His large hand wrapped around her wrist and raised it to his neck.

  When she understood what he was doing, she tried to fight him, but his strength was simply too much. She had suspicion the power in his muscles was more than the average well toned man. “No! Don’t, Simon. You can’t.”

  “I don’t take...I give.” With that, he forced her finger against the seal. For a breath nothing happened, then he leaned close and brushed his lips softly against hers. She felt the latch release. “Love me, Dezzy. I need you more than air. Without you there is no meaning to life.”

  The kiss was so poignant, it made her heart ache for the growing love she felt for this very special man. Only, as she pulled back and saw the collar separate and fall from his neck, did she feel as if that heart broke. It wasn’t right! He shouldn’t have to change to share her life. Shaking her head in denial, she backed up a couple steps, regret lancing through her at what he’d done, humbled by the sacrifice he’d made for her.

  Turning on her heels, she tossed herself onto the bed, sobbing. No one had ever loved her. Oh, her parents had when she was growing up, but they were killed in a car accident when she was nineteen. Gran had loved her. But she had never found that one true love, a special man willing to give up everything just to be with her. She figured there was something wrong with her, yearning for a love found only in faerytales, that she couldn’t accept that sort of love just didn’t exist…at least, not for her. What Simon had just done was a demonstration of his love. Only in doing that, he’d chosen a road that’d see him die in a short span of years, when he could’ve lived on.

 

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