Primal Magic: Scent

by Adrianna Dane

The passion called her, the man consumed her, the relationship was a sweet addictive surrender she could not give up. Would not give up, even though it made no sense to her.

  As the car slowed, she was pulled from her inner, tumultuous thoughts. She peered out the window, noting they were passing through the open wrought iron gates of the Gideon Estate. Her heart fluttered and her pussy convulsed. Soon ... soon she would be with him. Her gush of need clung to the air around her. Soon...

  CHAPTER 4

  The servant opened the door to a room, indicating she should precede him, and she stepped past him into the room. A click sounded behind her as the servant closed the door. She did not look back—her gaze was drawn across the room, to the imposing figure standing before the fireplace. His golden eyes glittered through the mask as he waited. And watched. Studying her through the expressionless mask hiding his thoughts.

  He inclined his head, his long, golden hair sparking beneath the subdued lighting. She reached up to unfasten the opening of the cape and it slithered to the floor to pool at her feet. His eyes drew her, and slowly she traversed the length of the carpeted room to stand before him.

  He reached out to place a large hand at the column of her neck; his thumb stroked sensuously over the pulse. She felt his strength—the sense that should he choose to tighten his grip he could so easily halt her breath. If he had been other than who he was, if she trusted him less than she did...

  The look in his eyes told her that he knew her thoughts—it was a harsh, challenging look. Her breathing fractured as he continued to stroke, continued to watch her reactions. The roaring heat building inside her yearned to break free. Long, taut moments stretched out as he tested her resolve. Her lips parted and a soft moan escaped.

  The stroking stopped; the breath caught achingly close in her chest. He centered his thumb beneath the curve of her chin and forced her head back, back until she gazed at the small crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above. His hand anchored her there. She felt his other hand stroke along the exposed, sensitive column. The warm presence of the fingers of his hand glided from her chin, downward until it rested at the base, circling just beneath the edge of the delicate necklace.

  His fingers inexorably tightened, yet still she refused to give in to primal instincts that urged her to fight—or to run. The only sounds in the room were the rasping of her breath and the steady vibrating rumble emanating from Julian.

  The first time she'd heard that growl, it had frightened her, and excited her at the same time. Yet it never failed to elicit a burning ache of need in the pit of her stomach. The thundering in her chest eased somewhat as his grip loosened and his hand traveled down across her exposed chest, downward to grip the front of her dress, just above her breasts. Again, everything, even the air in the room seemed to halt.

  The hand at the upper column of her throat eased away, moved to grasp her shoulder, even as the hand on her bodice suddenly ripped downward separating the dress. A roar erupted from his throat, echoing through the room, as the dress separated within seconds, the suddenness of the action eliciting a surprised gasp from her.

  The destroyed dress hung open revealing her heaving breasts. Not allowing a moment for her to gather her scattered thoughts, he whirled her around and forced her to her knees. She knew his needs, and her own as well. She hurried to obey the hard press of his hot demands, quickly moving to her hands and knees, answering his sharp command with an insistent hand pressed to her shoulders to bend forward, her face against the plush carpet.

  Her stomach tightened as she anticipated the savage claiming. She felt cool air as the dress was brusquely pushed up her body. Urgently, with both hands he parted her slick thighs, already somehow knowing she was more than ready for his invasion.

  The rasp of a hastily drawn zipper met her ears, the scent of his heat, her arousal, filled her nostrils, making her dizzy with the need to feel him inside her. Then he wasn't just at her entrance, he drove deep inside her slick, ready channel. Her body parted willingly, enclosing him with her own heat, and she screamed at the pleasure of his strong presence.

  Hot, hard, thick, rasping along her nerves. Deeply he invaded, demanding her acceptance, confident of her readiness. His hands, like talons clamped to her hips, halted her from moving, forced her compliance.

  Now she could feel the steady, deep, vibrating growl pass through her own body. She answered with a primal, mewling, needy plea for completion. The animalistic heat surrounded them within its primitive demands—guttural foreplay in preparation of the dance of lust about to commence.

  She didn't have to wait long. His cock was entrenched deeply inside her and her body had quickly adjusted to his presence. His fingers began to knead rhythmically against her hips, deep grips, painfully pleasurable as he took control of her body.

  She worked herself against him, he ground into her, she mewled with frantic need. With rhythmic force he thrust and receded, again and again. Pushing her to the brink, drawing her back again. She screamed for release, clawed at the carpet beneath her as he demanded the responses from her body. She felt the coldness of sweat on her body, the slick, sliding, sucking of her pussy expanding and contracting as he drove in and out, time and again. Time lost meaning. Mindless need consumed her.

  Again, she gasped and cried out in denial as he pulled completely from her body. She collapsed against the floor, trembling, writhing as she sought for the release he had denied her, trying desperately to gain control of her body. Long moments went by as her mind grasped for control, for humanity.

  His hands were on her again, soothing, stroking. He stripped the mutilated dress from her body, leaving her clad only in the stockings and stilettos. And the necklace.

  He turned her onto her back, where she lay panting, waiting, convulsing with desire. A radiant heat began to emanate along the length of her spine, curling around her. She looked up at him through slitted eyes, feeling as though she was hovering above the ground, trying to grasp for an anchor to hold her to earth.

  He knelt about her, now naked except for the golden, glittering mask, his cock still hard, glistening with her welcoming juices.

  "Please,” she whispered, the plea emanating from a place deep inside her.

  His eyes bored into her behind the mask.

  "Do you come to me of your own free will, Rachel?"

  His voice was deep, rough, reminding her of rumbling thunder preceding a spring storm.

  "Yes, of course. You know I do. Please, Julian, let me come."

  He leaned closer. What was it he wanted from her? Why wouldn't he let her climax? She needed to so badly.

  Her eyes widened in surprise when she looked at the long glittering object that looked like a glass phallus. His eyes demanded her attention. He waited, and though the ache still throbbed, her mind became clearer.

  "What are you doing, Julian?"

  "Do I have your trust? Your complete trust, Rachel? In all things, without question?"

  "I-I don't know what you want me to say."

  "Do you put your life in my hands? Yes or no. If the answer is no, you don't trust me, then you are free to leave, but I must have your answer now. Tonight. This moment. You have come to me willingly these last months—now I want to hear your commitment to me."

  "Do you want me to say I love you?"

  "It is more than love that I demand from you, Rachel. I need your complete obedience in all things."

  "What more can you want? It's all I have to give."

  He leaned closer and his heat was like a furnace against her skin. “I want your soul,” he whispered. “I want all of you, without question, without restraint. Can you give me that?"

  "Haven't I done that already?” How did one give another their soul, for heaven's sake? Why wasn't loving him enough?

  "I am more than a mortal man, Rachel. I have secrets you do not know. Do you believe in the magic?"

  His words confused her—the searing heat boring into her back, digging deeply through her body like
a brand driving ever forward, consuming her, disoriented her thoughts. It seemed to be attempting to pry something loose inside her.

  "I-I don't know. I've never thought about it."

  "Do you think me merely mortal? Have you never sensed something different?"

  "Yes, of course, I have. I know you have secrets and I want you to trust me enough to share them with me. You know everything about me—I've given you all that I can of myself. Haven't I shown you that I love you? Haven't I given you all of myself whenever and wherever you've demanded. In any way you wanted? Doesn't that tell you anything? Tell me what you want and I'll do my best to give it to you."

  "You will know my secrets when the time is right. Do you trust me to do that?"

  She nodded her head.

  "Say it. I must hear the words."

  "Yes, I trust you. With everything that I am."

  "The time will come when I will ask you to give up the world you know and come to me in my world. Will you do that without question? Simply because I ask it of you?"

  That gave her pause. He obviously needed some form of commitment beyond this haze of lust that colored everything for her. Beyond this moment. Could she give up everything for this man? No matter what? Her job? Her lifestyle? Her friends? For one moment, with her body pulsing around her, she tried to clear her thoughts, to give him the answer he needed, knowing there was no other answer for her to give.

  "Yes! I'd give it all up for you in a moment. Just ask. I love you, Julian. What more can I say? How can I prove it to you?"

  He studied her for long, fierce moments. Then he turned away, setting the wand next to him. He came back to her. He reached for a pillow resting on the sofa and placed it beneath her hips, then spread her thighs wide, opening her completely. She could feel her body pulsing, ready at a touch to explode, the ball of energy inside her ready to burst free.

  He bent forward and tasted her, his rough tongue swirling over her swollen clitoris, delving into her hot vagina. She couldn't stop the purring cry that erupted from her throat as she arched toward him. Again, he brought her to the brink, then lifted away and she cried out at the loss of his wonderful mouth on her body.

  She looked up at him pleadingly. Watched as he lifted the phallus-like object from the floor. Curiously, she watched as he raised it above his head, tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

  "Primal magic come to me,

  Free the chains binding this woman's soul

  Give me the power her willing essence shall provide

  Bind her to my side, my consort evermore."

  A different kind of white hot heat began to radiate along her spine, moving outward, and suddenly she was afraid of what she seemed to be committing herself to. Who was he?

  Seeming to read her thoughts, he opened his eyes and looked down at her splayed wide open before him. “You fear me."

  "Yes."

  "Do you wish to leave?"

  Did she? She had the distinct feeling that whatever came next, it would then be too late to retreat. The more she tried to wrap her mind around leaving, the less she could envision her life without him, no matter the price exacted. To live without him? Or exist for the remainder of her life always wanting, always needing.

  He had shown her something about herself she'd never known existed. She'd been with ordinary men, knew what they had to offer. She didn't want it. She want him. Whatever he was, whoever he was. The heat inside her began to build like a whirling tornado. And suddenly she saw a swirling mass of—something—above them in the room.

  "I want to stay, I want to be with you,” she managed to rasp out. “Please."

  * * * *

  He centered his cock at her entrance and pressed firmly into her molten heat. There would be no going back, no reversion to what had been. He took her deep, reveling in her acceptance, in her trust. The answering heat coiled in his groin, ready to burst forth as he thrust in and out. She arched to him. He heard her primal call. The roar of the primitive magic he had summoned into the room swirled around him, snapping sparks gathering to call the power from within her.

  He grabbed at her hips, yanking her to him. He thrust deep, touching her womb, time and time again until finally he heard her scream of release tangle with his roar of climax. He yanked her up and pulled her close as spurt after spurt of hot cum filled her, and his magic melded with hers. He felt the jolt as her energy rammed into his chest, driving through him to nest inside him, binding her ancient power with his own.

  She collapsed against his chest, and he held her there for long moments as the electricity in the room, like a surging massive crackle of energy encapsulated within a tiny space, began to diminish. He felt the power inside him and his instinct was to keep her with him from this moment on. But she was not ready for the final leap into his world—as much as she thought she was.

  She must come into her knowledge of the power she had released inside herself slowly, understanding what her ancestors had instilled in her, but which had lain dormant for generations. Again, he must send her away, his only comfort in knowing that as long as she remained in Gideon, she would be safe from discovery by Belinda.

  The swan magic cocooned and protected them—but for how much longer? He needed to bring Rachel over to him completely—and it must be soon.

  He lifted her from his body, rose, and carried her to the sofa and gazed down at her. As much as he sought to claim her full power, he fought to retain his own. She was a beautiful, giving woman, and he desired the woman as well as the magic she offered. But his people—the ones he had vowed to protect—would suffer beneath Belinda's hand if he didn't put their needs first.

  He wanted to love this woman as she was meant to be loved. He wanted to own her soul, but he wanted to give his as well. The needs of the people must come before his own personal desire. Instinct was what drove him with the magic of Belinda still inside him; patience was what he needed to achieve everything he wanted.

  The potion had revealed the power hidden inside Rachel as he'd hoped it would, with her willing acceptance making it accessible to him. But could she master it in order to strengthen his own when the time came for him to require it? If he accepted the knowledge that he loved her, how could he take the chance of putting her life in danger? Possibly, losing her forever. He would not know until the time was upon them. For now, as difficult as it was, he must send her back.

  CHAPTER 5

  Dawn broke outside the window as Julian leaned back in his chair and sipped at the cognac. He could still smell her in this room—her scent—no, their scents surrounded him. He stared at the perfume bottle that had materialized on his desk an hour before. It appeared moments after Rachel's departure, drawing an aching longing from his chest.

  He must wait, give her time to become accustomed to the changes this night would bring to her. He still needed to reveal to her the creature behind the mask. Only then would she truly understand what he asked of her.

  A knock sounded at the door and Julian looked up as Drago entered, a look of censure on his face.

  "She arrived safely?"

  Drago nodded. “Of course. Caspian is on watch. She is safe ... for the time being."

  Julian quirked an eyebrow. “Then it's something else that concerns you?"

  "You shouldn't have sent her back. It is too dangerous. Especially now. We need her power."

  He sighed and leaned back. “She is safe within Gideon. If she attempts to leave the circle, I will know of it and take precautions."

  "You assume Belinda cannot breach the boundaries. But if you will remember, it was an unexpected rip in her own magic that allowed us to escape. What happens if the same thing happens here? What if she gets through? What if she takes the woman and her power?"

  It wasn't something he wanted to think about—not right now. He needed her to have this time—this distance. If he took more from her without her understanding what she gave to him, the power would turn dark and be useless to him, and more easily consumed by Bel
inda to use against him.

  He took another sip of the cognac. “This cannot be rushed, Drago, you know that. She must understand and accept completely what awaits her."

  "Time is running out. Belinda's followers have been spotted just ten miles outside the boundaries. They wait and they watch for their chance."

  Julian growled and slammed the glass on the desk, shattering it. “Do you think I don't know the danger? Leave me. I know what I'm doing.” He rose and stalked to the entrance of the garden beyond. He heard the door open and then close behind him.

  He was more than aware of the danger awaiting them all. But like forcing their way through the rip, the moment would come when confrontation was demanded.

  He watched as the sun's light encompassed the earth. He was confident that when the time was at hand, the magic he needed would be his to command. Now was not that time—it was too soon. Inhaling, he embraced the lingering, potent scent of the woman he had marked as his, eagerly anticipating their next primal encounter.

  Adrianna Dane

  Theresa Gallup uses the pen names of Tess Maynard and Adrianna Dane. Theresa has been writing since the age of 10. A legal secretary for 30 years, she is currently working on another erotic romance, as well as a full-length romantic mystery/suspense. She has been married for 30 years and has three grown children (a daughter and twin sons), and is a new grandmother.

  Writing as Tess Maynard, her first published short story appeared in the ezine, The Whispering Forest, in January of 2004. Writing as Adrianna Dane, where adding sensual heat to romance is her motto, Esmerelda's Secret was her first foray into the erotic romance genre.

  Having traveled and lived from the East Coast to the West Coast, Theresa receives inspiration for her stories from a variety of sources, including music and poetry, and her tastes are eclectic.

  For more information about current projects, visit Theresa's websites at www.tessmaynard.com or www.adriannadane.com.

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  Don't miss I Want, by Adrianna Dane, at AmberHeat.com!