by Lyn Cash
“I’m so sorry.” Pan stroked the hair from her face. “What can I do to make things up to you?”
“You can make love to me. You can forget lust and give me what I want. Your love.” She heard the tightness in her own voice and prayed she could maintain her equilibrium and not lose self-control, which was so difficult to do when she was with him.
“Then I shall be your intrepid lover, unafraid to do whatever you command.” He held her more than touched her, moved with her rather than against her. Everything about him held a gentleness and compassion that both trapped and freed her.
It was as though she floated on a cloud. Pan’s hands seemed like silk against her skin as he removed their clothing and caressed her body, stroking her, massaging her, worshiping her body with every movement. She felt more than heard his voice rumbling against her chest as he kissed and licked, bringing her body to a feverish pitch.
Her pussy muscles clenched with need, and she could no longer remain still while Pan ministered to her. She tore at his clothing, strangled with emotion as she realised something he’d tried teaching her, that lust was a part of love, that neither stood alone, both were weak without the other. It was passion that fused them into a combustible quality.
Kris stroked his cock, loving the thick, throbbing heat in her hand as she guided him inside her. “Fuck me, my love! Show me that you want me!”
With a growl, he rose above her, thrusting powerfully, driving into her body and mind with a ferociousness she could barely fathom.
“No one but you, baby—you’re the only one for me. You always have been.”
Kris looked into his eyes and knew he meant it. Like hers, his eyes shimmered with unleashed tears, and Kris knew a passion unlike anything she’d known.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him as far into her body as possible.
He laughed as he spoke. “Baby, you’re killing me!”
“Sorry.” Kris laughed with him and grasped the bed’s headboard, throwing her energies into hanging onto the bed rather than Pan.
“Intense?” he asked.
“Like nothing imaginable.” She sighed and relaxed, taking a deep breath before drawing on all her reserved strength for the climax she felt building.
“Good. Does that mean that I have redeemed myself from my crimes of passion?” His voice strained with concern, not just ardour.
“You are hereby liberated from pussy jail.” She released the bed and raked her fingers over his shoulders, groaning with an aching need to discharge her raging hormones. “Prisoner is released—bond is vacated.” She gasped as one volcanic physical spasm after another flooded her.
A feral growl accompanied Pan’s orgasm. He kissed her with crazed fervour, pumping his cock into her pussy until Kris nearly combusted with the culmination of obsession mingled with unrequited longing.
She burst into tears, realising the powerful love she felt for him. “Oh, crap!” She twisted from beneath him, not wanting him to see her vulnerability. While his own susceptibility to love was her undoing, she doubted he’d feel the same way when faced with the exposure of her feelings. It’d probably compel him to run, if anything, in the opposite direction. She couldn’t bear to watch that happen—not now when she was at her most defenceless.
“Where are you going?” He lunged for her as she once again jerked on her clothing.
“Home. Anywhere. Don’t follow me, Pan.” Great Zeus. Of course, you want him to follow you, fool!
Babbling idiot—that’s what she’d turned into. One romp in a real bed with him, and she’d lost eons of time, years of reconstructing her own weaknesses and turning them into strengths. She had to leave before she regressed to the frightened nymph who’d once preferred suicide to sacrifice. Kris pulled on her boots, rambling. “I can’t explain—you’ve done nothing wrong. Quite the contrary—you did everything right this time.” She grabbed her helmet, jerking away from him when he tried stopping her once more.
“Then why are you leaving?”
“Self-preservation.” She hauled ass towards the mall’s entrance and her bike.
“Kris!”
Chapter Four
Pan roared, his voice deafening to his own ears, while collecting his own clothing and getting dressed. “Women!”
A familiar chuckle nearby only enraged him further.
“Shut up, Cupid!”
“My, my, how the mighty have fallen…in love.” Cupid feigned a gasp. “Dare I even say the word?”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Seriously, cuz. You have major issues regarding that particular emotion.”
Pan looked up as he finished dressing and noticed that they had company, the woman who’d been standing next to Kris earlier in the mall during his show. He frowned.
“What do you want?” He knew he sounded rude, but he was in no mood to pamper egos.
The plainly-clothed female before him looked familiar.
“Iris?”
Suddenly she smiled, and a wave of bittersweet nostalgia overcame him, rendering him completely helpless as the contemporary clothing she’d worn changed into a diaphanous gown in a blend of colours depicting the flowers for which she was named.
A pale golden light encased her from high-piled curls to Grecian gown to the sparkling sandals on her feet.
“Mother?” Pan was incredulous. “What the hell are you doing on earth?”
Iris opened her arms. “Took you long enough.” She hugged him tenderly and kissed his cheek before glancing at Cupid. “If I’d known you were involved, I would have stayed out of it. Although I should have realised when I saw the gold flashes.”
Pan shook his head. “What is going—”
Iris held a finger up to his lips to shush him. “There were lessons you needed to learn, my son. Now go after her.”
“With what?” He took a deep, shuddering breath. He was fucked.
Cupid cleared his throat, and when Pan looked up, Cupid tossed him a key. “There’s a Pocket Rocket outside. It’s not accounted for, so nobody will miss it.”
Pan studied the key. “A what?” Then he snorted. “A baby bike. No, thanks.”
“You wish to catch up with her?” Cupid queried.
“Not like that!”
Iris chuckled. “Your cousin Cupid is right, Pan. You still haven’t learned humility. Pride goeth before a fall, remember?”
“You of all people are quoting a Hebrew proverb to me?” Would this bizarre evening never end?
“David’s clansmen were favourites of your grandfather’s. I believe he inspired them with that one.”
Cupid offered input. “The pagans have a saying that religious wars are founded upon one fanatic telling another, my invisible god can kick the shit out of yours. Don’t tell me that you are narrow-minded as to whether or not we can all work together or in tandem, Pan.”
“Just go to her, son,” urged Iris. “Your cousin left the doors unlocked for you.”
He glanced at the bed he and Kris had just rumpled. No cum stains, but it was a wreck. “Sorry about your display.”
She pooh-poohed his concern. “Something tells me it looks better this way. Who knows? Maybe their sales will improve with less fuss and more muss.”
Pan wasted no time. He palmed the key, kissed his mother, then picked up his flute from where he’d dropped it beside the bed and tossed it to his cousin. “Do something with this. I won’t need it where I’m going.”
Cupid snorted. “Pan with no pipes? Whatever will you do for fun?”
Pan called over his shoulder. “I’m taking dance lessons.”
He grinned as he watched Cupid nestle the pipes between the rumpled bed’s pillows. Good. Life was messy, not perfect.
His heart lighter than it had been for a long time, Pan raced for the sliding doors at the front of the mall. Once outside, he skidded to a halt. There, perched on her massive Harley Davidson motorbike, helmet on her head, was Kris. Beside her was the itty-bitty Pocket Rocket. It wa
s so small his knees would be up around his ears.
Kris lifted her visor and grinned, holding a spare helmet towards him. “Going my way, lover?”
His steps were hesitant as he moved closer. “I thought you’d gone. I was about to come and look for you.”
She chuckled and glanced at the mini bike. “On that? Now that would have been a sight to see.” Then she sobered. “I wasn’t certain you’d come after me.”
“I had no choice. I love you. I just didn’t know how much until now. I’d give up my music to keep you in my life.” He paused a moment. “But why did you run from me in the first place?”
“I was scared. Love makes a person vulnerable. I wasn’t certain if I was strong enough to deal with the pain if you walked away from me.” She drew in a deep breath. “It took me until I’d mounted the bike before I realised that I needed your love more than I feared rejection. I’m done running. I’ve been doing that since the day I met you, but no more. In this incarnation, we’re finally fulfilling our destiny.”
Pan felt his heart swell with love, but before he could say anything, she tossed him the spare helmet and fired up her bike. He quickly jammed the safety item on his head, anticipation spreading through his system. “What now?”
She crooked a finger, beckoning him with siren sultriness. “Want to go make some music together?”
About the Authors
Bobbie Cole is the multi-published author of over fifty short stories and confessions, a couple of non-fiction books, and over a dozen novellas and novels. Her mainstream fiction is written under Bobbie Cole, her erotic fiction under the pen names of Lyn Cash and Cash Cole.
Email: [email protected]
Alexis Fleming is one of those strange people who live inside their mind. No, she doesn’t hear little voices... Well, she does, just not the type you're thinking of.
Alexis’ world is peopled with interesting characters and exciting possibilities that come to life in each and every book she writes. Her first love has always been romance, whether on this world or the next. Hot, sizzling relationships with a dash of comedy and a few trials and tribulations thrown in to test her characters.
When she’s not tied to her computer creating sizzling stories to tempt her readers, she helps run a busy motel set on the edge of a National Marine Park in Australia. What better place to get inspiration for the tales she turns out? A glorious sunset over the ocean, dolphins playing almost in her front yard, suntanned bodies lazing on the sand... How could she not get caught up in the eroticism of that?
Email: [email protected]
Alexis and Lyn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Alexis Fleming & Lyn Cash
Sink or Swim ~ by Alexis Fleming
Who’s Your Daddy ~ by Alexis Fleming, Lyn Cash, & Summer Devon
Hit and Miss ~ by Alexis Fleming and Lyn Cash
Mistress Mine ~ by Lyn Cash
The Big O ~ by Lyn Cash
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