by C. A. Storm
Never so good. Never fucking leaving. FUCK!
It was the nails drug down his back, the feel of her blunt little nails leaving furrows on either side of his spine, that snapped what little control he had. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, his hips surged forward, again and again, the hard, blunt crown of his dick burrowing as deeply inside of her as he could, every thrust letting him work a little deeper, until finally he was completely buried inside of her. He ground his hips, his pubes rubbing against her clit, and held himself there.
Every breath was a struggle, his heart pounding so hard all he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears and the sound of her whimpering, needy cries. He tried to clear his mind, something nagging at his conscience, when she dug the heels of her feet into his ass and sobbed out, nearly incoherent, “Please…Rik. I need you to…please!”
Yep, he was a goner. One hand gripping her ass, the other curling around her back as he leaned against her chest, he began a hard, fast pace. He loved the feel of her breasts grinding against his chest, the feel of her arms wrapped around his ribs as her hands clung to his broad back. Tangling his hand in the fiery mass of her hair, he held her head so he could kiss her again and again, hard, bruising kisses. He knew he should be gentle, tender, but he was too far gone.
Like a chant, Rik began to mutter to her between hard kisses, instinctively falling back into his native tongue. “Ah, ma petite flamme! Je t’aimerai et je t’adoreas pour toujours. Vous êtes mon cœur et mon âme. Je partage mon éternité avec vous.”
Fire raced down his spine, a surge so strong it bowed his back and he thrust forward with every ounce of strength coiled in his powerful thighs. He felt his balls tightening, pulling up tight against his body, as his dick swelled in a violent explosion, pulsing again and again as he released his essence into the depths of her womb. Beneath him, he felt Sam’s entire body seize up, her head thrown back with enough force that her glasses slipped off, as she cried out his name in a throaty, raw scream.
Rik’s glamour flared, blazing from his body in a brilliant display of incandescent golden flames, illuminating every corner of the room as if it were full daylight. He collapsed on top of her, barely conscious enough to roll to the side so he didn’t smother her. Clutching her against him, Rik kept Sam’s face against his chest, gently stroking the back of her head and running his fingers through the silken strands of her mane, until the golden light had seeped into their flesh.
Damn, I’m glad she’s still Mortal, or I’d have some explaining to do, he thought as the room once more was shrouded in the shadows of night. He dimly noticed the lightbulb in the bedside lamp had gone out, leaving them with only the ghostly light of the moon for illumination.
Rik felt the involuntary final spasms of his cock throbbing within her unprotected womb.
Fuck. Maybe I do have some explaining to do.
Chapter 23
Sam needed a few minutes to recover. Maybe more than a few minutes, because ‘Wow!’ Resting her cheek against Rik’s chest, she nuzzled against the damp curls and savored the sweet, potent scent of him—of them, together. Beneath her cheek, the rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his heart beating, soothed her as much as the gentle hands stroking through her hair and along the curve of her back.
Her eyes were still a little dazzled after the little light show Mr. Big Bang had displayed when he had come inside of her. Shit! No condom! She did some quick mental calculations, thankful she had kept up her birth control prescription even after her break-up with "The Bastard." Nope, she should be safe.
“Um,” she muttered against Rik’s chest, squirming a bit as she felt the heat of him still nestled within her core. A blush started rising up her chest, of course, and burned her cheeks as she leaned back to look up at him. She found Rik gazing down at her, his eyes warm but his own expression one of sheepish concern as he met her eyes. “I guess it’s a bit late, but I am on the pill, and I’ve got a clear bill of health.”
Burying her face once more against his chest, she sighed heavily and gave a weak chuckle, “I’ve never done that before…you know, the whole bare beast and all that. ‘No glove, no love’ was drilled into me by my father and brothers from birth.”
Feeling his chest shake, Sam tilted her head back up to find him laughing silently. When she huffed and made to pull back, Rik tightened his embrace and rolled over onto his back, pulling her until she was astride him. Resting his hands on her thighs, gently massaging them, he grinned up at her, a boyishly charming little grin that flashed a matching pair of dimples.
“Well, I’m not on any pills,” he said easily, his eyes twinkling in amusement, “And I’m healthy as a horse. No diseases, don’t do any drugs except for the occasional drink of alcohol, and I always…” He paused, tilting his head with a sheepish cant that had his bangs half-obscuring his face as he caught himself, “…almost always, practice safe sex. I have no children, and I don’t sleep around. So, we’ll chalk this up to a momentary lapse of judgment, okay?”
Sam found her hands had come to rest on Rik’s chest, the fingers of her right hand unconsciously stroking over the design she saw writhing to life over the left side of his pectoral. The vines had grown up over his shoulder, the knotwork becoming even more intricate and lifelike as they stretched down his arm nearly to his elbow. A quick glance at her own left arm showed the same intricate knotwork, likewise having expanded over her shoulder and down her arm, wrapping around the bicep as it grew in. Some of the roses had fully bloomed, warm ambers that edged to scarlet.
Glancing back at Rik, ready to finally have the discussion about what he was, Sam gasped in outrage. He’s snoring! The jerk fell asleep!
Needing some vindication in her outrage, Sam looked over to the chair Xalish was currently enthroned upon. The life-sized stuffed white wolf gazed placidly back at Sam. No, there was judgment in those glassy blue eyes!
“You’re right,” Sam muttered with a nod, “I should wake him up! He promised me more orgasms, dammit!”
When she had looked back down at Rik, ready to demand more orgasms, she was more amused than outraged. He was just too damned adorable, laying there with a contented smile on his face, dimples still on full display, with his hands resting on her thighs and all sprawled out naked beneath her—and that light snoring, a flaw in Mr. God’s Gift to the World, she would enjoy teasing him about.
After grabbing her glasses and placing them on the nightstand, Sam rested her cheek on his chest and relaxed. She had to admit, she was rather impressed that even though his penis had softened a little from its earlier state of mimicking a redwood, he was still half-hard and securely burrowed inside of her. Oddly enough, even though her thigh muscles ached and she was decidedly sore, she felt no urge to slip free of him. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into slumber.
Well, she tried to sleep, anyways. Just as she was about to drift off, she felt the sudden surge of heat as Rick’s penis throbbed to life within her. Rolled on to her side, his hand sliding up her thigh to hook it over his waist, he buried his face into the crook of her neck as he slowly rocked into her. Steadily, unhurriedly, he thrust, languidly lapping at her neck, massaging her breasts in his large, calloused hands. For a billionaire businessman, he had the long, strong fingers of someone used to working with them regularly, and as the calloused tips slid over her tender nipples she truly appreciated that.
When those hands suddenly clutched at her ass, pulling her tight into his increasingly urgent thrusts, Sam forgot everything as the flared head of his thick cock ground directly into the cluster of nerves that seemed to be connected to every other nerve in her entire body.
Sam pressed her face into his chest, her lips parting in a scream she muffled against the swell of his upper chest as she felt the burst of molten heat within her core as Rik held himself inside of her.
Again and again, throughout the night, the two would drift off, only for one or the other to move just the right way, and suddenl
y Rik’s valiant knight would be up for another charge, his lance truly mighty and unwavering in its quest to claim the ‘maiden.’
Sam had no idea when she had finally managed to pass out and fall into a dreamless slumber. Whether it had been from sheer exhaustion, or whether Rik had finally drained himself of all the life force held within the massive boulders nestled between his strong thighs, but she was grateful to get at least a little sleep.
She felt a lot less grateful, however, when there came a tapping, a rather loud rap-tap-banging, at her room door. She flailed, grabbing the pillow and covering her head as she tried to burrow back beneath the blankets.
“Sleepy!” Sam tried to shout out, but her voice was hoarse and barely above a croak.
The knocking continued.
Shave-and-a-haircut? REALLY?
Peeking out from beneath the blanket, she fumbled for her glasses, holding them up as she squinted through them at the clock on the bedside table.
7:02 AM the small clock proclaimed in a soft blue light. It was barely even light outside, dawn coming much later to the Estates with its location within the Rockies. Turning her head, she saw that she was alone in the bed, and the spot next to her was cool.
Meeting Xalish’s unwavering gaze, Sam muttered, “If he’s not in the bathroom, I’m going to kill him.” He had left. No note that she could see. Nothing. No evidence he had even been there, except the sticky mess and the throbbing ache between her legs. Oh, and the empty bed next to her. Fucker!
“Sorry, Mom,” Sam muttered her long-distance apology as she rolled out of bed.
When the knock came again, Sam gave up and hollered, “WHAT?”
“Avon calling!” Clara’s cheery voice rang out, way too bright and chipper.
Stumbling over to grab her robe from the arm of Xalish’s chair, the stuffed wolf was still giving her that judgmental look. Bitch. Continuing her ungraceful, and bowlegged—damned over-hung, over-sexed jerks—journey to the door, Sam banged her forehead against the heavy wood.
“If you don’t have coffee, then you’d better turn your perky, flat butt around and save yourself,” Sam growled through the door.
“I have a caramel macchiato with extra chocolate and extra espresso, as well as your purse,” Clara sang out through the door.
Sam tore the door open and snatched the steaming travel cup from Clara’s hands, quickly gulping twice and letting the hot, bittersweet nectar soothe the savage beast that woke up with Sam’s face.
Waving the giggling Clara in, Sam sat on her bed, trying to act casual as she delicately crossed her ankles and made sure her full-length, old and ratty flannel robe was securely covering her body.
Clara stopped abruptly as she stepped into the room. Her nose wrinkled delicately as she looked around—the sheets in wild disarray, the pile of clothing, Sam’s wild, tangled mass of hair—and covered her mouth and nose with a slender hand. Pointedly, she walked to the windows, yanked open the curtains and shoved them open to let in the cool, crisp mountain air. Inhaling deeply, giving Sam a pointed look, she picked up Xalish and plopped down in the armchair.
“So…?” Clara’s voice trailed off, the question dying on her lips at Sam’s glare over the rim of the coffee cup. Holding up a finger, Sam took a few more sips before she lowered the cup.
“Okay, you may speak now,” Sam allowed with regal dignity, much to Clara’s obvious amusement.
“So, you and my brother,” Clara said, waggling her eyebrows as she bounced Xalish on one knee. “Dish! But not any of the truly gory details, because ew…brother cooties!” She looked around the room once more. "Speaking of which, remind me to have room service thoroughly decontaminate your room."
“Your brother is a dick,” Sam snapped. “I mean, he was absolutely charming last night! And when we got back here, wow. Just wow, you know?” Sam looked up, an unwilling smile crossing her face. “It was incredible. I mean, I’ve had great sex before, my ex was no slouch, but Rik?”
Sam scowled, “But Rik…I woke up this morning, and there was no note, no Rik, nothing!
“I got played by the playboy, didn’t I?” Sam’s felt her shoulders slump, depression settling heavily on her. “I mean, I thought we were true mates, you know, like those romance books.”
Pinning Clara with a glare, Sam partially tugged open the left side of her robe. “I mean, hell, he branded me! And I saw his tattoo, too!” She waved her hand, “I mean, there was literal fireworks! The entire room glowed!”
“Aw, sweetie, maybe he’s getting you breakfast in bed or something?” Clara offered, placing Xalish on the ground between her feet as she crossed her arms and leaned forward. “Besides, Rik’s not exactly used to having a significant other. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s only had casual fuck buddies. He’s always kept them at arm’s length. And…” Clara snorted, hanging her head, “He’s an idiot. Plain and simple.”
Suddenly, Clara looked up and offered Sam a positively impish smile, “Look at it this way. He needs to be house broken and properly trained to the leash, like any wild dog.”
Feeling a burst of amusement, Sam actually chuckled and teased, “More like broken to the bit, hon…trust me, he’s more a stallion than a dog!”
Sam really shouldn’t have been surprised by the throw pillow that slapped the side of her head, but she was. Giggling like a madwoman, Sam held her cup protectively, “Hey! Watch it, woman!”
“Go get showered, you dirty, dirty girl!” Clara lifted the other pillow from behind her, holding it up threateningly with one hand while shooing Sam with the other. “We have a Village to check on, and you have a knight errant to track down and punish.”
With a salute—hey, her father had been a Marine, Sam knew how to salute properly—Sam finished up her coffee right quick, tossed the empty cup into the trash, and grabbed a change of clothes before she disappeared for a long, hot shower.
It’s going to be a long day, Sam thought ruefully as she stepped beneath the scorching hot water. Resting her forehead against the cool tiles, she groaned in relief as the heat soaked into her muscles and eased away some of the aches. A very long day.
Chapter 24
Rik opened his eyes. His arms were curled protectively around Sam, holding her to his chest even in sleep. Not that they had gotten much sleep, but he felt more energized than he could remember being. Stretching languidly, careful to avoid disturbing the passed-out beauty half-sprawled atop of him, Rik looked up at the ceiling and grinned. The sun wasn’t even up, but his day was already looking great!
Lightly tracing his fingertips along the curve of Sam’s spine, Rik savored the feel of her lush, ample curves pressed flush against his body. He was looking forward to getting used to this. Who’d have thought that less than a week ago, he’d actually be eager to spend the rest of his life waking up with the same woman? Now, he didn’t ever want to wake up without her.
Glancing over at the time, Rik cursed. 5:07 AM. It was Saturday, the day the Village was opening for the vendors and performers to start getting things ready. Besides that, his grandparents were due back from their recent book-signing tour. Looking back over at the woman sleeping peacefully on his shoulder, he gave serious contemplation to just saying to Hell with it all and staying in bed with his cara. With that in mind, he rolled to his side to face her, about to draw her close for at least a little longer.
Unfortunately, Rik's phone chose that very inopportune moment to begin buzzing in his jean's pocket. Glad he had had at least the forethought to put it on vibrate after he had called his sister the night before, Rik carefully slid out from beneath Sam and leaned off the bed, straining to grab his jeans. Finally managing to snag the leg, he tugged them close and fished out his phone, giving the screen a bleary-eyed glare.
A text from Clay. Of course. Bastard barely ever slept. Odd for a feline, but very much consistent with Clay’s ornery ways.
TROUPE ARRIVES @ 8. COAST CLEAR, NO BABES OR EVIE YET BUT YOUR GRAMPS IS LOOKING 4 U ALREADY.
Ah, Hellfire and Eternal Damnation. Rik's grandparents had returned. They'd been in California for some meetings, with both Mortals and Uncannies, regarding one of their current projects—turning one of his grandmother's urban fantasy series into a television show. Both of his grandparents were writers, his grandfather writing romance novels for the last thirty years under the pseudonym of Leonore D'Arc while his grandmother wrote both traditional and urban fantasy novels.
Their books and other projects were just a small part of the overall push the last few decades to paint paranormal beings in a more positive light. While many supernaturals in Europe had gone underground during the spread of the Holy Roman Empire, it was the Inquisition and witch hunters of the 16th and 17th centuries that had truly seen the retreat from Mortals.
With the rise of technology in the last few decades, however, the world was growing smaller. It was more and more difficult to retreat, and even the glamour could only protect them so much. Since it was inevitable that they would be discovered, under Audrick's suggestions and guidance, a long campaign of spin doctoring had begun. Vampire and shifter romance books and movies, in particular, had made incredible strides in making them seem more sympathetic. Even the witches seemed to be making great strides in improving their image, in no small part to the resurgence of Pagans, Heathens, and Wiccans who were embracing old religions.
Sadly, the Sidhe and Fae were still lagging in public regard, that bloody green-clad, blonde-haired fairy cartoon sadly both a blessing and a curse for Fae-Human Relations. Everyone thought fairies were cute and did nice things, like grant wishes, completely forgetting the fact that the Sidhe were directly descended from what humans called gods and fairies who were the agents of glamour. Show's what Mortals know.