by Jane Kindred
He smiled, a hint of color to his cheeks that wasn’t reflected firelight. “Maybe I just like clean teeth.”
Theia shrugged off the borrowed robe. “Be quiet,” she murmured and climbed over his lap, knees balanced on the couch cushions. The fabric of the long skirt of Phoebe’s she’d changed into before heading out stretched to accommodate the position, but Lucien pushed the hem up higher, his hands against her thighs, abandoning self-consciousness.
The luminescent blue of his eyes was almost white.
“You’re bossy tonight.”
Theia rested her forearms on his shoulders. “No, I’m not. I just know what I want.”
“And what would that be?”
“To stop wondering what it would be like for you to fuck me.”
Chapter 28
The unexpected bluntness of that word on her tongue, so matter-of-fact, so sensually charged, sent a buzz of electric energy through him, straight to his groin. He hadn’t considered that she’d want this. Not now. Not when he looked like this. But the delivery of that little word had certainly said otherwise. And her eyes said she wanted him completely.
He hadn’t realized his hands had kept sliding, gliding up along the smooth plane of her skin beneath the skirt. His thumbs brushed lace. Cautiously, he let his claws slip beneath the elastic at the crease of her thighs to see how she’d react.
A little gasp escaped her. Not shock. Arousal. She rose slightly so his hands could encircle her hips.
Lucien pulled her closer, settling her more firmly in his lap, where she couldn’t miss the hardness of his erection inside the cotton boxers. Theia rocked into him. He could feel the damp heat between her thighs. He moved his hands from her hips and brought them up to her waist beneath the T-shirt.
“Do you want these hands on you?” His voice was rough with desire. “When they’re like this?”
In answer, Theia pulled the T-shirt over her head and moved his hands up higher. “They’re your hands. Why wouldn’t I?” She hooked her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Lucien forgot about his hands and his horns and his wings.
Kissing Theia, as always, was like happily drowning. Tasting her, drinking her in, forgetting to breathe, her soft moans vibrating against his tongue like they were coming from him. He stroked his palms across the hard peaks of her nipples through the bra, careful not to snag his claws in the lace, and her little noises became more insistent in his mouth. He tried to unhook the bra anyway and got himself caught, but before he could ruin the moment with anger at himself, she reached back and unhooked it for him, tearing the lace away from his claw to slip the garment off.
Cock straining against his boxers at the touch of her skin, he moved his hands back to her breasts. Perfect and petite—he could cover them entirely in each hand. But he didn’t want them covered. Lucien withdrew his mouth from hers, ignoring her moan of protest, and brought her up higher on her knees, dipping his head to circle one taut nipple with his tongue to the accompaniment of her increasingly melodic sighs of pleasure until she let out a breathless squeal as he sucked the nipple into his mouth. He loved making her breathless.
She returned the favor with a sudden dip of her hand into the opening of his boxers to encircle his cock. The damp nipple slipped from his mouth as he let out a soft groan.
“Are we really doing this?” he breathed against her.
“Of course we’re doing it.”
It dawned on him that all he’d brought with him to the cabin were the boxers, taking wing in a panic as he’d thrown himself out her bathroom window, somehow thinking he might land on the ground. He’d soared high, exhilarated even as he was horrified, not knowing where he was going until he’d reached the pine forests of the White Mountains and remembered Fran’s cabin.
“Theia.” The word came out part groan of desire, part lament. “I don’t have any condoms.”
To his surprise, she just laughed. “Don’t worry. I bought some on the way here.”
Lucien’s eyes widened, and he stifled another groan as she stroked his cock. “You came up here looking for me, knowing what you’d find...and you brought condoms?”
A sexy, self-confident shrug rippled downward from her shoulders with a little motion that jiggled her breasts. Here she was, sitting in his lap, skirt pushed up to her waist, topless, his cock in her hand, and she was nonchalant about the fact that she’d come prepared to lose her virginity to him despite the fact that he was becoming a monster.
He couldn’t help but laugh, delighted and amazed by her. If he lost his humanity in the morning, at least he’d have this one ordinary, extraordinary night with her.
Lucien tucked her hair behind her ears with a stroke of the claws on his index fingers. “God, I love you.” The last word caught in his throat as he realized he’d said it out loud. He drew back, mortified. “Sorry, I meant—”
“Lucien.” Theia put her hands on his shoulders and held his gaze. “It’s okay. Don’t panic. I love you, too.”
He kissed her to avoid looking her in the eye any longer. He’d never said those words to anyone. He’d been in love with Polly once, his first real love, but he’d known better than to tip his hand by saying so. Polly didn’t do exclusivity, and she sure as hell didn’t do love. And now he’d just blurted it out to Theia like an amateur.
And she loved him back. At least tonight.
Lucien slid her off his lap and scooped her up in his arms to carry her to the large sheepskin rug in front of the fire. “Where are the condoms?”
“In my bag on the front seat of my car.”
“Be right back.”
He dashed outside and found the bag, digging through it to find the box so he wouldn’t have to fumble for one when he got back inside. With his prize in hand, he headed back into the cabin to find Theia casually naked and lying on her belly, ankles crossed in the air behind her.
Oh, what the hell. Why not say it again?
Lucien grinned. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”
“I think you may have, yes.” She swung her feet and recrossed them.
“Good. Just checking. I might have to say it a few more times.” He stripped off his boxers, and Theia watched with an approving eye. “You still want to do this?”
Theia laughed. “If you don’t get down here and fuck me instead of asking me that question repeatedly, I’m going to start getting mad.”
He dropped to his knees beside her and felt his wings partially unfold, tipping back to balance his new center of gravity.
Theia followed the motion with her eyes, and Lucien cringed, but she looked curious. “Can I see them? All the way?”
“Right now?”
“Will it affect...anything else?”
Lucien laughed. “I think I can maintain two opposing states.” He rolled his shoulders and unfolded the new bones he hadn’t had the day before, letting the wings extend to their full width.
Theia rose onto her knees to face him. “Can I touch?”
Lucien nodded, and she reached up to stroke the top edges of each wing, fingers following the curve of the bone as far as she could. It was a curious, energizing sensation, a new erogenous zone, making his abs tighten and his erection stand up even straighter. When she let go, instead of sinking back onto the carpet, Theia lowered her hips to sit on her heels and took hold of his cock. While he balanced on his knees with his infernal wings stretched wide, Theia took him into her mouth.
Lucien stroked a claw lightly along her shoulder, tracing the curve of her spine to the dip before her pert bottom, trying to breathe steadily and keep it together, but the touch drew a voluptuous moan from Theia that nearly made him lose it.
He grabbed her by the hair a bit abruptly and pulled back, inspiring a less sensual sound of protest from her as she let go.
“Sorry.” Lucien softened his grip and brushed her hair back in
to place with a sheepish grin. He folded his wings behind his back and lowered himself to the carpet, drawing her with him, his mouth against her throat. “If you want me to fuck you, darling, we’re going to have to slow down.” It was the sort of thing he might have said a week ago—in an entirely different tone—to keep her at arm’s length, like a verbal talisman to ward off emotion he couldn’t handle. But this time the word darling was a little prayer of devotion.
He rolled her onto her back and kissed her mouth, making sure she’d heard it the way he meant it, before moving down to the hollow of her throat, her collarbone, the slope between her breasts. Teasing each nipple with his tongue until she was arching toward him and pulling him closer with pleading moans. Tracing the contours of her breasts with his claws and reveling in her delightful shiver as he made his way farther down. And at last parting her legs and coaxing her open with his tongue.
Theia whimpered as he teased her clit, her fingers curled in his hair and her hips tilting upward to give him better access. He wanted to make her come as he had the first time he’d tasted her, but her whimper had turned into whispered words: “Please fuck me, Lucien.”
It was all he needed.
He scrambled for the condom packet and ripped it open only to realize he couldn’t handle the latex with his claws. “Shit.”
Theia saw his predicament and took it from him, sitting up to unroll the condom over his cock. “Teamwork,” she said with a wink, and Lucien framed her face with his hands and kissed her, trying to understand how he’d gotten this lucky. If it was fate and blood and demons and curses that had drawn them together, he no longer cared.
He eased her back down to the carpet, still kissing her as he brought himself between her legs. Using his fingers was out of the question.
“You sure?” he asked one more time.
Theia rolled her eyes. “Jesus. Are you going to make me sign an NDA?” She wrapped her legs around his hips. “I’m sure. And I’m not made of china, I’m just getting older by the minute.”
Lucien laughed—something he’d never expected to do at a moment like this. Time to get out of his own head. Theia moaned softly as he entered her, her crossed ankles at his hips urging him on. Every motion of her body, every sound she made said she wasn’t interested in his attempt to be gentle. He soon forgot to be, rocking and grinding with her as he pumped his hips, their bodies perfectly in tune, rolling with her after a moment so that she was on top. Theia rode him without hesitancy, hands beside his head as she tilted her pelvis to just the right angle to bring herself to orgasm.
He watched her nipples tighten as she picked up speed, soft moans rising in pitch until she arched her back and cried out, hips locked against his, the cry becoming soft and melodic and a little wistful as it died down. Lucien gathered her to him and kissed her throat.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured.
Theia gave him a shaky giggle. “I had a little help.”
“A little?”
She laughed as he rolled her onto her back.
Lucien winked. “I’ll show you little.” He let go of all restraint and fucked her with abandon, letting himself vocalize while Theia crooned encouragement, hooking her ankles behind him once more. The heat of the fireplace warmed his back, and sweat was making their bodies slippery. The climax burst out of him joyfully, and without meaning to, he flung out his wings as he came inside her, dimly recognizing that she was reaching a crescendo of sound herself, coming again on the heels of his climax.
It didn’t occur to him until they lay panting beside each other, relaxing in the afterglow, that her second orgasm had come with the spreading of his wings. He chuckled to himself.
Theia rolled onto her side, resting her chin on one arm against his chest. “What?”
“I think you’re fetishizing me. You just want me because of my wings.”
“Shut up. I can’t help it if you’re even hotter as a demi-demon.”
“You’re a wing freak. Admit it.”
“Oh my God.” Theia slapped his chest playfully. “I need to use the bathroom.” She climbed to her feet. “Tell me it’s not an outhouse.”
“No, there’s a genuine bathroom upstairs. Nicely appointed, too. First door on the right.” He watched her go with a smile, admiring the way her body moved, perfectly at home in her nudity as she trotted up the stairs. He had to laugh at how stupid he’d been, fearing that she’d bring the demon out of him, that she’d entered his life to fulfill the curse. The curse had been triggered by something utterly unrelated to Theia—that Lucy was also affected was proof. And who knew? Maybe Theia was right. Maybe there was something in Madeleine’s words that held the key to suppressing this. Maybe the Smok Biotech serum could control it. All was not lost. He’d had sex with a daughter of Lilith, and the world hadn’t ended.
Lucien sighed with satisfaction. He’d probably better clean up. It would be awkward if Fran showed up, alerted by Lucy that he was squatting here, and found him naked on her sheepskin rug with a used condom discarded beside him.
A twinge went through his knuckles as he picked up the condom to throw it away, and Lucien flexed his fingers. Had his claws gotten sharper? He didn’t remember them curling over quite so much. A pang struck his gut just as another twisted along his spine.
“No.” Lucien stared in horror as the scales that covered the tips of his fingers moved up his hands.
It was Theia, after all.
Chapter 29
Theia took her time washing up, savoring the ache between her legs. For an event that had been given such a buildup—the hype beginning before she’d even hit puberty—losing her virginity was remarkably unremarkable. She wasn’t magically changed. Nothing was changed, really—thanks to her personal experiments with penetration, there had been no proverbial cherry popping to speak of—except that she now belonged to this not-terribly-exclusive club.
And yet it had been far better than she’d imagined. Feeling Lucien inside her, being physically closer to him than she’d ever been to anyone—as close as they could get—had given her a connection with him she couldn’t explain. She still felt him there, nestled in the sensitive folds of her body. She could smell him all over her, could still taste the salty-sweet drop glistening on the tip of his cock.
She licked her lips at the memory, smiling at her reflection as she washed her hands, hair a little cockeyed, eyes shining. She was, as Rhea would call it, stupid in love. Theia dried her hands, leaving her hair mussed, and headed back down, looking forward to falling asleep in front of the fire in Lucien’s arms.
She slowed on the stairs. Lucien stood facing the fireplace, wings half-erect and shoulders slightly hunched, staring at his hands.
“Lucien? Are you okay?”
He cringed visibly at her voice—cringed—and didn’t turn. “You need to go.” His voice was rough, as though he’d been stoking the fire with his breath.
“What do you mean, go? I’m not going anywhere unless you’re coming with me. Why don’t we just sleep here tonight and figure out what to do in the morning?”
“There’s nothing to figure out. There’s nothing to be done. I want you to leave.”
Theia came down the last few steps, her chest tight with anger not entirely her own. “We are not doing this. Whatever you’ve fixated on, it’s your depression talking to you.”
“It’s not depression, goddammit.” Lucien whirled around.
Theia couldn’t help but gasp. His hands were curled into reptilian forelimbs, blue scales covering his arms and his abdomen. And his face...his face was drawn and inhuman. Still a human-shaped mouth and nose, but no longer the pale ivory flesh—it was leathery and taut and brilliant blue.
“Lucien...”
“No. I don’t know who I am, but I’m not Lucien anymore. There’s no Lucien. I’m a monster. And I want you to go.”
She moved towar
d him, reaching for him, and he snarled, making her hesitate. “Lucien, I’m not going. I love you.”
“Then there’s something wrong with you. And if you won’t go, I will.”
“No—”
He’d moved so quickly that she was still staring at the place he’d been, her hair blown across her face by the breeze he created as he passed by her. Theia turned, and he was at the door.
He paused, his hands too gnarled to turn the knob, and lifted his head. “Tell Lucy I’m sorry.” The door exploded outward as he rushed it and leaped into the air, and Theia ran after him just in time to see brilliant blue wings flapping in the distance.
“No. No, this isn’t fair.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared up into the empty sky, stars twinkling over the pines as if nothing were wrong. She couldn’t even call Rhea for comfort, and she was freezing, and the ache in her cunt was compounded by its emptiness. She went back inside and found the robe, curled up in it on the couch and sobbed.
Eventually, her swollen eyes and stuffy nose forced her up in search of tissues, and she saw the wide-open gap where the door had been. Anything might get in. What the hell was she going to do now?
“Thanks a lot, Lucien, goddammit!” she yelled into the emptiness. “You could have just asked me to open it for you.” But she wouldn’t have. And he’d known it. She started crying again, and then got mad at herself and at Lucien and Madeleine Marchant and Edgar Smok—and why not throw God in, even though she didn’t believe in him—and then really full of white-hot murderous rage at Carter fucking Hanson Hamilton.
A light appeared through the trees in the distance—two lights, headlights—accompanied by the rumble of an engine. Her heart leaped for an instant until she realized Lucien hadn’t left in a car. So who the hell was this?
The car came closer, a silver Range Rover, driving a little too swiftly over the gravel for her taste. Theia stepped back inside, tightening the belt on the robe and glancing around for anything to use as a weapon. All she could find was the poker by the fire, and she brandished it as the Range Rover came to a stop in front of the house.