Shameless Desire (The Outlawed Realm)

by Tina Donahue

  Unwilling to dwell on it, Nikoli assured her, “Everything’s going to be all right.” He lowered her to the mattress. “We have the means to escape if we ever need to, not that it’s going to come to that.”

  He pulled a small device out of his jeans pocket, an instrument he’d built to open and close portals at will. He put it on the nightstand within easy reach, just as he always did.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll contact Meelo,” he added. “I’ll speak to Lukan too.”

  Regina clutched the hem of his tee. “Hold me.”

  He intended to do far more than that. As quick as he could, Nikoli pulled off his shirt and tossed it on one of the chairs. His jeans landed to the side of the stone hearth. Regina had already laid a fire. Its bobbing flames cast the room in a delicate glow, softening the shadows. Nikoli tugged off his boxers and socks. Naked, he faced her, his cock rigid, prepared to penetrate, to pleasure.

  Color stained Regina’s cheeks. Her hair was a deeper red in the rosy gloom, the strands fanned out over the pillows, her bangs pushed aside. She no longer looked like the calm, detached psychologist she played during her patient sessions, but a woman in love, slightly mussed, helpless in his presence, inviting him to take her.

  Was there any doubt of his carnal intent?

  Nikoli climbed on the bed, his weight shaking the mattress. He peeled back her nightgown, inch by delightful inch, to expose her calves, knees, creamy thighs, the reddish curls between her legs.

  Her female musk wafted up, making his head spin. He pressed his face to her springy bush and licked her soft folds…slick with her moisture, slightly salty. He tongued her clit.

  She gasped and fisted her fingers in his hair as though to keep him at the task. Maybe that was why she didn’t often cut it. She needed something to hang on to.

  Smiling at the thought, Nikoli drew back his tongue and eased her grip on him. “Roll over.”

  A frown creased her brow. She ground the heels of her hands into her eyes and whined, “Why’d you stop?”

  “So you could roll over. Go on.” He kissed the inside of her upper thigh.

  She shivered and dropped her hands. “No.”

  That wasn’t the response Nikoli had expected. Did she want to talk again? Now? Before any words, questions or dire predictions could spill from her mouth, he headed back to her clit.

  “Wait,” she said.

  Again?

  “I have a better idea.” She yanked off her nightgown, pitching it to the left. The garment landed on top of her small TV.

  “Back,” she ordered. Palms on his chest, she pushed him.

  Nikoli resisted, still wanting to play.

  Regina didn’t seem as impressed with his strength as he did. She drew her nails down his pecs, circling his nipples, leaving bursts of pleasure in their wake. He forced down a swallow. She parroted his earlier question, “You don’t want this?”

  He fell back, hands pillowing his head, legs spread, her willing sex slave. “Do whatever the fuck you want. Just don’t make me wait.”

  She grinned. “We’ll see.”

  “We’ll what?”

  “Quiet,” she cooed, “you’re talking too much.”

  Nikoli would have retorted if not for her hand on his cock. She cradled the damn thing much as her pussy would. Her fingers squeezed it gently. She moved them up and down his length, creating enough friction to make his legs stiffen and his toes curl.

  He thanked her in his own language, babbling the words.

  “Good?” she murmured.

  He babbled some more, telling her it was beyond great and not to stop.

  Not understanding E2’s language, she did.

  Damn. “Regina,” he gasped. “Don’t…” He couldn’t finish.

  She’d straddled his body and was now taking his cock inside her precious cunt, though not all the way. She stopped lowering herself onto him and whispered, “You want me to stop?”

  “No.”

  “But you just said ‘don’t’.”

  “I didn’t mean—I was wrong, all right? Go on. Please.” She was making him nuts.

  “Oh, okay. If you say so.”

  He made a face at her obvious sarcasm.

  She responded by taking all of him inside, then tightened her inner muscles around his rod.

  He sucked in air, then sighed it out. Nothing could describe the sensations her actions created within him. They were too powerful. A gift only a God could have given to his mortal charges. No matter how many times they’d made love, Nikoli was still astounded at her body’s miraculous tightness and heat.

  “Thank you,” he breathed, his hands on her hips to keep her steady as she pumped.

  Regina worked their bodies with unbridled lust, the ends of her hair dancing over her shoulders, her breasts quivering. The bedsprings squeaked to join in the music they made—her body’s slap against his, her whimper, his groan, and finally her silence that told Nikoli how hard she concentrated, determined to hold off, not yet ready to surrender.

  The way she gritted her teeth said she’d lost the battle. She came on a prolonged moan followed by a tattered sigh. He followed, grunting at the intense pleasure rushing through him…currents of delight wrapped in warmth, pulsing surges that left him panting, speechless but didn’t drain his strength. The males in his realm were bred to sustain erections for hours. Each orgasm made their cocks harder than they’d been before climax.

  Having been born in this less advanced dimension, Regina collapsed on top of him, her cheek on his shoulder, her breath puffing against his neck.

  Nikoli wrapped his arms around her.

  “Thanks,” she panted.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Welcome.”

  “We still need to talk.”

  Nikoli pressed his face into her hair, pretending not to have heard.

  “I know you’re not asleep.” She cleared her throat and swallowed. “You can go at this all night.” She tightened her sheath around his thick, hard length.

  Unable to stop the inevitable, he asked, “Are you sorry I helped Lukan and Arez?”

  “Huh? No. Never.” Huffing with the effort, Regina pushed up and cradled his face, her thumb on his lower lip.

  “What?” he asked when she simply regarded him, saying nothing.

  She answered with a deep, wet kiss that was as good as his orgasm, maybe better. That was lust. This was tenderness, respect, love.

  Finished, she rubbed her nose against his bristly cheek and whispered, “I just want everything to be all right. Please tell me it will be. Make me believe it.”

  He caressed her with care that said she mattered. To him, she was life—all that existed on any of the planes. He wanted to ease her worry with hearty assurances but couldn’t. So, he said nothing, kissing her instead, unwilling to think of the danger that waited just outside this house.

  What horrors might be unfolding in the city tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Disconnected images flashed in Gwen’s mind, not unlike a dream.

  She saw herself standing outside the hospital, exhausted from her twelve-hour shift, her face lifted to the sky. Drops of water pelted her face, feeling oddly warm, like a shower.

  She wanted to brush the moisture away, but couldn’t. Her arms were leaden. She couldn’t feel her legs. Why? In the distance, a dog barked. No, wait. The fucking thing howled like an unholy creature from a monster movie.

  Run, dammit. Get out of—

  She couldn’t move, not even to swallow. Holy crap, what was happening? Darkness surrounded Gwen, pressing in. Goose pimples rose on her arms from the clammy air. She shivered.

  A strong arm, a man’s, tightened around her, holding her close. Who was he? Why was he doing this?

  The answer edged close, only to skitter away. She struggled to bring it back and wished she hadn’t, suddenly recalling a sharp prick on her neck, followed by a stinging sensation. The dart she couldn’t pull out. Falling to her knees in the alley. An ugly goon dragging
her deeper into the shadows, toward an area that was too cold. Weird whirring sounds from some kind of motor that hadn’t been there before. A wolf attacking.

  She sucked in a breath.

  The man caressed Gwen as though to quiet her fear. Heat seeped from his body, penetrating her damp clothes. He was clearly strong and carrying her. To where?

  The hospital? Was he a paramedic? Had the thug or the wolf injured her? If so, why wasn’t he using a gurney? Where was the ambulance?

  Gwen fought like hell not to black out. Her lids were weighted, impossible to part, similar to when she’d had too much to drink. More pictures flickered in her mind.

  She was back outside the hospital, her gaze locked with the guy she’d seen there tonight. He smiled at her as he had earlier, the gesture welcoming, engaging, filled with male heat and promise she couldn’t resist.

  Was he the one who carried her? How was that possible?

  Her arms swung back and forth with his next steps, these uneven as though he was climbing a set of stairs. His shoes smacked against them, the pressure of their combined weights causing the wood to groan. The odor of damp vegetation obscured all other scents. Branches rustled in the persistent wind. Rain drummed hard, sounding like someone typing at warp speed on a computer keyboard.

  She heard the rasp of metal against metal and tried to place the sound. Had he inserted a key into a lock?

  Hinges squealed briefly as he opened the door…an all too familiar noise. As known to Gwen as the home’s scents, lavender and vanilla from the Febreze that Staci, her cousin and roomie, always sprayed.

  He’d brought Gwen to the modest house she rented? How did he know she lived here? Had she told him? When?

  She worked her mouth, trying to ask. Hell, she would have been happy to make one frigging sound but couldn’t. Helpless and silent, she recorded his entrance into her home. The hardwood floors registered his movements just as the outside stairs had. He closed the door, then negotiated the darkened interior with surprising ease, not bumping into the coatrack or disturbing the beaded curtain Staci had hung in the living room’s arched doorway.

  The multicolored crystals clacked against each other with the blast of air that had pushed inside. Wind chimes near the front window tinkled like tiny bells, not slowing his pace in the least.

  He moved with confidence, as though he’d been inside countless times and knew the layout…or he could see very well in the dark.

  Into the hall he went, bypassing rooms. Gwen worried that Staci would come out of her own room and ask what was going on. Not a smart move. The girl had barely survived the so-called accident her former boyfriend had caused. Who knew what this shit would bring?

  Just stay where you are. Do not make a sound.

  Staci didn’t. Rain pattering the roof and the man’s steady breathing were all that broke the silence.

  With that, Gwen remembered…her cousin was still at the hospital, working her shift at the gift shop. If Staci stopped for a drink or dinner before returning home or if she decided to study for her classes, she wouldn’t be back for hours.

  Relief flooded Gwen. A curious sense of well-being banished her concern, not only for her cousin but also for herself. From the drug the thug in the alley had put in her? Who in the hell was he, other than a rapist? Since when did sexual predators use tranquilizer darts instead of their fists or the threat of a knife or a gun?

  What would he have done to her if that wolf hadn’t come along? Where was it now? Had it…?

  Gwen’s thoughts halted at the man entering her bedroom, scented with her perfume, a floral fragrance with a hint of musk. With unexpected gentleness, he lowered her to the mattress of her pine bed. The cheap linens rustled beneath her, the ends puffing out with her weight. She lost all of her breath in a noisy sigh and looked up.

  His face was above hers, its planes illuminated by the streetlamp’s honeyed light spilling through her window. As she’d suspected earlier, his eyes were gray, fringed with long, dark lashes. Beads of rain dotted his damp hair. A few errant strands clung to his cheeks.

  She stared at his mouth, mesmerized by the tiny drops of water on his plump lower lip, aching to touch it. Somewhere deep inside, Gwen realized she should have been terrified. Deeper still, she understood that he wouldn’t harm her.

  With great effort, she lifted her hand. It trembled spastically, at last going limp. Just in time, she managed to rest her fingertips on his chin, rough with his coming beard, his skin chilled, his breath deliciously warm.

  Who are you?

  He regarded her, his expression a mixture of tenderness and mounting arousal. Water dripped from his hair, splashing on her throat. He smelled of something primal and needed. The strong, fearless male every woman longs for, at least in her dreams.

  Was that what this was, or was she hallucinating?

  Somehow, Gwen didn’t care what it might be. Soul-deep desire throbbed through her, pushing all caution away. Clumsily, she ran her thumb over his chin.

  He smiled now as he had earlier in the hospital’s parking lot.

  This time she reciprocated, sensing her grin came out lopsided from the drug’s effects.

  If that bothered him, he didn’t let on. He leaned down to kiss the sides of her mouth.

  Gwen’s lips trembled at his surprisingly tender gesture. Grateful tears stung her eyes. She tried to grab his damp tee—not wanting him to pull back and leave her—but her fingers wouldn’t work that well.

  Stay. Please.

  He brushed his lips over hers in answer, the tip of his tongue spearing into her mouth.

  Aw, God. Not even as a horny teen had her body responded as willingly. Ribbons of pleasure rippled through Gwen. She suckled him deeper, their kiss exploring, then impatient, hard, uncivilized, the sounds they made feral and welcome.

  It satisfied for a moment before they each had to have more. He pulled at her clothes, clearly wanting them off. Gwen struggled to do the same with his, but she was still too lethargic. Only her heart and mind raced with what she wanted, had to have.

  She heard her hoodie hit the floor, not remembering him taking it or her tee and bra off, yet he had. Coolish air skimmed her rain-chilled skin. Her nipples grew even harder. He warmed them with his hands, pulling a longing sigh from her.

  No, don’t stop.

  He did, trailing his fingers down her torso to her belly. Her muscles quivered in response. He paid them no heed, continuing to her jeans, where he worked the button and fly.

  Suddenly, she was naked and so was he. How had that happened? When? If Gwen could have managed a frown, she would have, disappointed that she’d missed him stripping.

  Her bedsprings creaked as he climbed onto the mattress and unfolded his nudity over hers. Air whooshed out of her at his imprisoning weight. It was a gratifying balm, his body’s warmth the answer to her persistent yearning. Rarely had Gwen felt as wanted by a man, as safe.

  With his knees, he separated her thighs and settled between them, his rigid cock against her pussy that was moist with need, thrumming with carnal hunger. He cradled her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple. At the same time, he claimed her other nipple with his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the tip.

  Oh wow. The sensations he created were fucking amazing. They registered clear to the back of Gwen’s throat. Her skin flushed with heat, piercing her stupor. She drove her fingers through his hair, clutching it, demanding he remain with her.

  His actions said he wasn’t going anywhere until they were both satisfied.

  How long might that take? A few hours? A day? Week? Month? What happened after it was over?

  Shit, don’t think of that now.

  The bad crap would come later. It always did.

  As though he’d read her thoughts or sensed her body tense, he lifted himself on one elbow and regarded her. Gwen didn’t like the uncertainty she saw on his face. She wanted longing mixed with a whole lot of lust.

  To encourage him, she rubbed her groin against hi
s, surprised she could do so, her ability to move coming back. He got the message quickly from her carnal maneuver, his expression evolving from concerned to just this side of savage.

  Good boy.

  He grabbed his cock, running the crown up and down her damp slit, positioning the meaty head on her opening.

  Gwen gulped air at what was coming. She drew her legs back to give him the greatest access. At her blatant invitation, he offered another smile and pushed inside, entering her in one hard, dominant—

  Huh?

  With a start, Gwen came to. From where? A dream? Nightmare? Perspiration ran down her chest, the chilly air licking it, bringing on a shiver. She stared at her shadowed bedroom, the rectangular designs on the wall from the streetlamp’s glow.

  It was obviously dark outside, still late. Or maybe early. Gwen couldn’t be certain. Panic pumped through her, eating away any residual fatigue.

  Unwilling to look at her clock just yet, she patted the bed linens to her side and felt nothing but cotton sheets, cool to the touch, not warm from a body.

  His.

  Her mouth went dry as images filled her mind of the man outside the hospital carrying her into this house, climbing on the bed, mounting her.

  She saw his hair swinging forward with each powerful thrust. His shoulders and pecs tensing as he pounded into her. Prominent veins corded his throat. Several ran down his biceps to his muscular forearms.

  Swooping down, he slanted his mouth over hers.

  Gwen touched her lips. They were somewhat sore as though from a lingering, impassioned kiss. Her cheeks stung, slightly irritated. From a man’s stubbled cheeks scraping them?

  Shit, she didn’t know, couldn’t be certain. Swallowing hard, she concentrated on her pussy to see if it was—

  Her hand halted on the curls between her legs. She was fucking naked. Hurriedly, she touched various parts of her body, just to be certain of her state, at last searching her neck for where that dart had pierced her skin. Unless that was a dream she’d had.

  Gwen winced when she reached the point of entry. Oh crap, oh damn, oh shit. The surrounding skin was swollen and sore. That fucking thing had hit her. She hadn’t dreamt it.