by Allie Gail
I feel the bulge beneath his jeans as he moves his hips. They sway in an erotic dance, grinding, making me breathless. Deep inside, my muscles clench with an agonizing need. The bruising pressure of his erection might be painful, if it didn't feel so good. I swear, I could come just from this. Easily. If he doesn't stop soon, I know I will.
He fumbles with his zipper, freeing his stiff cock before pushing my shirt – his shirt – up to my waist. His fingers glide along the curve of my hips, and I suck in a nervous breath as he discovers for the first time that I'm wearing nothing underneath.
Almost shyly, I meet his gaze. He is looming over me like a shadow, eyes smoky with desire. He groans, and the sound is intoxicating. It's a little bewildering, seeing the effect I have on him. He is so beautiful. What does he want with me, when he could have his pick of women? Those who, unlike me, know what they are doing in the bedroom. I am out of my league here. I know nothing. Nothing but what I feel.
He slides two fingers inside my wet heat and I shudder beneath him.
“Such a sweet little cherry,” he rasps. His thumb traces circles around my clit, wetting it with my own arousal. “So fucking sweet. Are you ready for me, Jude? Are you ready to feel me inside you?”
I gasp, my thighs quivering uncontrollably. “Yes,” I whisper. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.
“Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart. Just like that...that's it, love. You've got it.”
I tighten my legs around his waist, feverishly trying to draw him closer as he teases me with just the silken tip. He pushes the head in, just the tiniest fraction, before pulling out again to slide the length of his erection against my mons, taunting me unmercifully. Again and again he does this, until I am panting and clutching the comforter in my fists, dragging it across the bed.
What is he waiting for? Oh Christ, that feels good. Oh, oh, oh-h...
Oh.
My eyes flutter open.
Oh, shit.
The last thing I want is for reality to intrude, but fuck all, for a moment it must. “Wait...” Steadying my breath, I press one hand flat against his chest. “Wait just a second.”
“What is it?” His voice is gruff, impatient.
“Do you have a condom?”
“No.”
“Don't you think you should maybe...get one?” I suggest artlessly. It's not as if I'm on the pill or anything. I have no idea whether pregnancy is even a possibility with him, but I'd rather not take any chances.
“No.”
That's it. That's all I get. Just a terse, matter-of-fact no.
“Loc, I'm not-”
“I know,” he murmurs. “It's fine.”
“Listen to me. I don't want-”
“Sh-h...” Flashing his most alluring smile, he presses a finger to my lips. “Stop worrying. You're safe with me. Trust me?”
I'm probably better off not answering that.
“I can't get you pregnant,” he assures me. “It's impossible. My kind are incapable of such a thing.”
I gaze up at him, wavering.
Pushing the shirt up over my breasts, he sucks a nipple into his mouth and gently tugs on it with his teeth. And all thoughts of – I don't know, what were we talking about? – fly right out of my head.
He's pressed against my opening again, pushing harder now, nudging against the barrier that prevents further intrusion. With each thrust, I involuntarily shrink back. I can't help it. It's like trying to open a locked door by smacking it with your palms. No way is it going to work.
I tense anxiously. Is this going to hurt?
“Look at me,” he commands, raising up on one arm.
I do, and my doubts submerge into a decadent pit of desire. The way he's looking at me right now, jaw clenched, eyes on fire, nothing in the world could tear me away. I want him. That's all that matters. The dark consequences don't exist, they can only come later, and later can never breach now.
“You are mine,” he whispers. “Whatever happens, whatever life brings, you will remember this moment always. You will remember me. Above all others. Always.”
And then, with no other warning, he slams into me with brutal force, ripping apart the last vestige of my innocence. He sinks into me deeply and I cry out, more from surprise than pain, as he claims his due.
“Ah-h...yes, love...this what you wanted,” he groans, his voice husky. “What you needed. What we both needed. You are a woman now, amor aeternus, and you are mine.”
I clutch his shoulders, quaking beneath him, my legs clamping him like a vise. He begins to move, a slow, gradual rhythm, and the pleasure is indescribable. Nothing ever prepared me for this strange, erotic sensation, the feel of his thick masculinity filling me, stretching me to accommodate him. It's as if I've been living in a perpetual fog, and the clouds have made way to show me the beauty of the moon and the stars.
“Loc...” I sigh dreamily, oscillating my hips to match his tempo. He gazes down at me with glassy, indecipherable eyes. What is he thinking? What is he seeing when he looks at me that way? My own expression must be an open book. Sweet Jesus, this feels...so...good...my God, how can anything be this good?
His mouth slowly twists into a smirk, as if he has read my thoughts and finds them amusing. Gripping my ankles, he takes my legs and slings them over his shoulders, leaning in to penetrate me deeper, and it's almost painful but deliciously so. I close my eyes and moan as he picks up the tempo. Faster...harder...faster...harder...my breasts bounce with every thrust. The friction against my exposed clit is sending me over the edge, to a place no man has ever brought me before.
Brilliant lights seem to burst inside my head. I writhe beneath him, every part of me trembling, splintering into a million tiny broken shards. The pleasure is so intense it's staggering. He slams relentlessly into me, turning my moans into one long keening orgasm as I convulse against him, losing all control.
As if I ever had any to begin with.
And when I start to come down from my explosive climax, when I look up at him, my beautiful devil, his eyes are closed, mouth open in some silent prayer. Until he too comes gloriously, filling me with his essence, snarling my name between clenched teeth as he spasms with delirious enthusiasm.
“Fuck, Judith...” He gently releases my legs from their awkward position and lowers his body onto mine. I wrap my arms around him, basking in the warmth of his weight. In the intimacy of that part of him still sheathed within me. My mind is swimming, trying to process everything that's happened. I have no way to define what I'm feeling right now. No way to categorize this overwhelming rush of emotion.
But one thing I do know for certain.
I want more.
One taste of heaven is not enough.
It can never be enough.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Chapter Twenty-One
“Ever dance with the devil in the morning light?”
Noting the soft glow of sunrise breaking through the filmy curtains, I have to smile. “Are you quoting Batman right now? Really?”
“I believe it was the Joker's line, and I said nothing of pale moonlight. Get your movie trivia straight.” Nuzzling my neck, Loc presses his lips against my pulse point and purrs, “You feel so fucking good. Daylight, moonlight, doesn't matter. I'm going to dance with you until you drop.”
I run my fingers through his raven locks and breath a sigh of contentment. His hair is soft as mulberry silk. Is there anything about this man that isn't sheer perfection?
Yes. The fact that he isn't a man at all. So stop thinking of him as such.
“Why do I get the feeling you're using 'dance' as a euphemism for something else?”
“Because you're a perceptive young lady. And because I am.” Already swelling inside me, he glides in and out a few times before easing all the way out, instructing, “I want you on your knees. Turn over.”
I do as he asks, anticipation fluttering in my belly. Oh, Lord. What now?
He hovers over me, blanketing my body the way a stallio
n covers a mare. When he pushes his way in, already fully erect, I gasp. Okay, this feels...different. Interesting how a change of positions makes for a whole new experience.
My fingers dig into the pillow. Oh, my. He's so far up inside me, deep, even deeper than before. It's a weirdly invasive feeling that almost takes my breath away. I'm not sure I like it.
But then his fingers reach around to caress me in the most tantalizing way, stroking, rubbing, occasionally giving my clit a few teasing flicks, and I instantly decide that yes, I do like it. I like it a lot. I might even – oh-h – hazard to say – oh-h – that I love it.
Oh yes, I'm convinced. I love it. I fucking love it.
“I'm not hurting you?” he asks softly.
“No-o...” Is he kidding? I'm swimming in ecstasy. If it got any better than this, I don't think my heart could take it.
“Would you like for me to?”
I blink a few times, wondering if I heard him right. Did he just say-
“You like this? Does it feel good?”
“Mm-hmm...oh, yes...”
“Feels good to me, too. Your pussy is so fucking tight. So wet. I could stay inside you forever.” Brushing my hair aside, he trails light kisses along the back of my neck, giving me goosebumps. “Grab hold of the headboard, love. Will you do that for me?”
Raising myself off my elbows, I wrap my fingers around the twisted boughs of the red cedar headboard.
“That's it. Just like that. Now if you'll recall, I did promise to fuck you nice and hard, didn't I? Well, sweetheart, that's exactly what I'm about to do. So unless you want to end up banging your pretty head, you might want to hold on.”
A thrill of excitement sends high voltage coursing through me.
He starts off with long, unhurried thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in to the hilt. When he does this, it literally feels as if he's touching my womb. Digging his fingers into my hips, he grinds himself even deeper, and my eyes practically roll back in my head as I moan. That damn demon-man is coaxing noises from me that sound more animal than human. I'll be lucky if I still have my voice by the time he's done with me.
My groans seem to fuel his ardor, and he begins to move faster. His thrusts come harder, rougher. My knuckles are turning white from clutching the boughs so tightly. With one hand, he reaches up to wind my hair around his palm, using the leverage to jerk my head back. I shriek, but whether it's from pain or pleasure I honestly can't say.
“That's it, baby,” he growls. “That's it. Take it like a woman. You love it, you know you do. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Right from the start, we both knew it. I could see right through you. Wet and willing from the very first moment our eyes met. Trying so hard to play the uptight puritan when all you needed was a good stiff dick inside you. So here it is. Here's your medicine, Judith Sterling. You wanted it, take it. Take it and fucking swallow it.”
I should be disgusted by the things he's saying, but for some perverse reason his words only serve to turn up the heat. Oh, God... he's slamming into me with brute force, harder and harder, faster and wilder, like a frenzied beast with no reticence whatsoever. It hurts and yet feels so good, so sinfully good. He yanks on my hair again and I don't know why but that's all it takes, and somehow I'm spinning into the abyss once again, screaming his name mixed with a slew of obscenities as my body shudders in uncontrollable rapture.
He continues his relentless assault, groaning my name along with other words that I don't understand, banging me senseless as my body, unused to being violated in such a manner, begins to protest. How sore am I going to be after this? I have a dim realization that I might end up regretting the rough play, but I'm too dazed and punch-drunk for the thought to really take hold.
When he comes, it takes us both down. One of the boughs snaps, cracking in my hand as we collapse together, but the sound barely registers in my brain. I am spent. Exhausted. Drained of energy and emotions and the ability to think. The only thing left is to lie limp in his arms, panting, floating sleepily on waves that are gently carrying me into cool, dark oblivion.
I'm awakened by the loud blaring of music.
Yawning, I snuggle deeper under the covers, trying to block out the sound so I can go back to sleep. This bed, it's so freaking comfortable! Like curling up on a cloud of marshmallows. I could sleep for days. Just curl up and drift away...
Did the music just get louder? What the hell – where is it coming from?
It's when I recognize the song that I come fully awake, sitting up in bed with my mouth open. I know that voice. I've downloaded every album Poe ever released. And the song?
I'm Not A Virgin Anymore.
Someone's trying to make a statement. I'll give you one guess as to who that smartass someone is.
Pursing my lips, I turn my gaze to the smartass in question, who is nonchalantly pulling a brown thermal shirt over his head. His hair is damp – he must've just gotten out of the shower. Somehow he gets better looking every time I see him. I, on the other hand, probably have bedhead and sleep lines on my face. So unfair.
He waggles his eyebrows up and down with a grin.
Biting back a smile, I retreat underneath the covers. “Cute.”
“I thought you'd like that.”
“Didn't say I liked it,” I mumble.
“You have to admit it's appropriate.”
“I think the word you're looking for is inappropriate. As in, highly inappropriate. You're welcome.”
“What, you don't like Poe?”
“Sure. Just not blasting in my ear when I'm trying to sleep.”
“Poor darling,” he chuckles. “That was inconsiderate of me. Tell you what, let's see if we can find something a little more soothing then, shall we?”
I'm not even a little surprised when Poe's clear voice is replaced with the wail of a heavy metal guitar riff.
I glare daggers at him over the comforter. “I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Nope.” He strides over to where I'm huddled on the bed. “You don't.”
“Yes. I do.”
With a dazzlingly cocky smile, he leans over to press his lips against mine. “No.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Don't.” Kiss.
He's right. I don't. Damn him.
“Never woulda pegged you as an Iron Maiden fan,” I comment.
“And I never would've expected you to be familiar with Iron Maiden.”
“You'd be surprised. I happen to have very diverse taste in music.”
“I must say, you never cease to surprise me.” With laughter in his voice, he adds, “Look at that. You broke my headboard, you little wildcat.”
“Hey, don't blame me. You were there, too.” Stifling another yawn, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. My muscles are sore and there is a noticeable ache between my legs, but that's not surprising. What is surprising is the way my stomach twinges when I try to straighten all the way.
“Ow.” Frowning, I clutch my abdomen and limp my way towards the bathroom.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a cramp. I'm gonna go take a bath.” I hurry into Shangri-La and close the door behind me. It probably sounds silly after what we did last night, but I feel self-conscious walking around naked in front of him. Besides, I need to pee really bad.
Once that's taken care of, I brush my teeth, but the tightness in my abdomen is not going away. I figure a nice hot soak in the tub will ease my discomfort. And it does, for a while. But as soon as I step out of the water and try to straighten, the pain returns. It's not excruciating or anything. It's just...there. Like a pebble in a shoe. Annoying and uncomfortable.
By the time I'm finished in the bathroom, Loc has vanished. Grateful for the privacy, I take my time getting dressed before heading downstairs. I find him sitting at the kitchen table, huddled over a steaming cup of coffee.
My attention is immediately drawn to the windows. The view – holy cow, it
's spectacular! A scenic panorama of the surrounding snow-capped mountains, rolling hills and evergreens. I knew it would be picturesque but this is...all I can say is wow. I've never seen anything like it. It's beautiful enough to take your breath away.
“What time is it?” I murmur, gazing out the window transfixed. Last night's flurry left about six inches of snow on the ground. It's a winter wonderland out there, and this is only the third day of November.
“You have an unhealthy obsession with chronology, do you know that?”
Rolling my eyes, I check the microwave. 3:19 p.m. Yeah, sounds about right.
“Would you like some coffee?” he offers.
“Don't suppose you happen to have any hot chocolate.”
“I'm sure we can round some up.” Eyeing me over his mug, he notices the way I'm slightly hunched over. “Ah...what are you doing, exactly?”
“I think something's wrong,” I reluctantly confess.
“What do you mean?”
“Right here. It hurts.” I rub just below my belly button.
“When did that start?”
“When I got up.”
“And you didn't say anything?”
“I'm saying something now. Do you have any Advil?”
Frowning, he pulls out his cell phone and taps in a text message. “I want you to go back upstairs and lie down,” he orders, all no-nonsense. “I'll have Cassandra come take a look at you.”
Cassandra! What is she going to do, I'd like to know? Cast a spell with some chicken bones? I don't want that freakshow anywhere near me!
“Is she a doctor?” Highly doubtful.
“She can help you,” is his evasive reply.
“You know what, it really doesn't hurt that much. Actually, it's starting to feel better already. I think it's going away.”
“Judith, if you don't march your stubborn ass up those stairs right this minute, I'll pick you up and carry you there myself. Now get going.”
“I could just make a doctor's appointment, you know.”
“This will be just as effective. Not to mention quicker.”