Medusa's Heart: A Contemporary Paranormal Erotic Romance Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  He was looking at her in a way that made her believe he would always look at her like this, no matter if she had a forked tongue and clawed hands, or if she was old and wizened, a crone preparing to face the end the Fates had designed for her. She felt the same about him. He could become craggy or thin with age, and her heart would still pound at his smile, at a look from his penetrating gaze. She would still kneel at his feet, call him Master, and surrender her will to him, for he would always cherish that gift, and her.

  She concluded her song as he came into her self-imposed dance circle, but she continued to use the music of nature around them to guide her rhythm. She stepped lightly as a deer, bounding and twirling, her hair and clothing whispering against his body as she drew closer. Putting his hands to her waist, he lifted her higher, joining in the dance, delighting her. She continued around him, only she took his hands, seeking his support for another lift. And another. She lifted her arms to the sky, arching back, trusting his strength to hold her.

  When he lowered her this time, she looped her arms around his neck, interested in another form of dancing. She brought her lips to his, shifting her hands to cup his face.

  Her lips parted from the coaxing of his as he took over the kiss. He let her feet touch down so they rested on the top of his work shoes, but banded his arm more securely around her waist, keeping her close to prolong the kiss and make it an even deeper exploration.

  When she tugged at his shirt, he obliged, stripping it off an instant before he had his arms around her again, holding her against his heated, muscled flesh. Since her dress was open on the sides, his palms found the skin exposed at her hip and thigh, her rib cage and the curve of her breast. A release of the belt, a shrug of her shoulders, and the garment slipped away so she stood naked against him, accessible to him however he desired her. He was her Master to serve.

  She whispered that to him and saw the lust build in his gaze. She knew the things that pleased him, as he knew so many that pleased her. He took her down to the ground, laying her on her discarded clothing as gently as a bird he held in his palm, but his dangerous strength, the intent in his eye, incited an appealing shiver.

  “Arms over your head, priestess,” he murmured, transforming that shiver into an arrow of sensation to her core. When she complied, he explored her body with mouth and hands, suckling her nipples, tracing her breasts with his tongue, the curve of her stomach and hips, her navel. He rubbed his rough jaw against her hips, making her squirm, but when he kissed a line over her mound and feathered his breath over her clit and labia, she breathed out on a moan.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Let me hear you as I give you pleasure,” he demanded in that growl she loved. “I want to know what I’m doing to you.”

  He left her little choice as he put his clever tongue and mouth to work between her legs. She was gasping, crying out, then ultimately shrieking her release as he pushed her all the way there and kept her going, turning her body into one vibrating, taut string of need.

  “More,” he demanded, turning her over on her stomach and starting the process over, this time by caging her between his braced arms and knees as he bent and went after her sensitive nape with his teeth, his breath, his lips and tongue again. His hands cupped her breasts, and played with her nipples against the friction of the lush grasses. Her hips lifted, brushing against his erection beneath his jeans, teasing, taunting, begging.

  She thought he might take her from behind, but instead he brushed an almost tender kiss over one buttock and moved back.

  “Be still,” he ordered softly. He stood over her, and she heard him removing the rest of his clothes. When he knelt and guided her over onto her back again, he was beautifully uncovered by anything but her hungry gaze. Yet as he shifted, twisting his upper body to push his shoes and pile of clothes out of their way, another feeling eclipsed desire. Or maybe it was all part of the same.

  She turned onto her hip and rose to her knees to be closer to him. His eyes darkened in comprehension as she put her hand on his broad shoulder and shifted partially behind him to lay her palm over the tattoo on his back. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to it, the words she now knew to be true on several levels.

  Medusa’s Heart. Because he carried her heart with him, and because he was her heart.

  When she lifted her head and moved in front of him again, he slid his arms around her. Even on his knees, he displayed his formidable strength, cupping her buttock with one hand to steady her descent as he used the hold of both arms to lay her down on her back. He ran his hand down her side, to her thigh, drawing it up over his hip, but then he stopped. He stared down at her, his gaze like a glittering silver stream.

  “You’ve been able to turn men to stone,” he said, low. “But when I came into this meadow and saw you in the moonlight, I felt like I couldn’t move. And what you said…” A fierce expression crossed his face. “For all that I thought I knew my feelings for you before we met, there’s a whole set of rooms inside my heart I never imagined, that you’ve opened since then. I’ll go anywhere with you. Take any journey we need to take together. Good or bad.”

  The portent in his words reminded her that there were many things ahead of them, many decisions to be made. There would be challenges, and very likely some of those challenges would strain the bond between them. But she knew hardship. She knew all about surviving against difficult odds. A relationship was as fragile and resilient as a life. How it was lived all depended on the will, and she couldn’t help but believe that their wills combined would make it unforgettable. They would also be formidable opponents against anything that threatened it.

  “I feel the same,” she whispered. “And I want to feel you release inside of me, Master.”

  His lips curved, eyes lighting. “So I should shut up with the serious talk and get down to it? How about I make sure you go right over that cliff again with me?”

  In answer to his teasing, she tightened her arms around his neck, a mute plea to close the distance between them, and take her lips with his own once more. She gave everything to him, her body arching, legs folding into a taut hold over his backside.

  He broke the kiss, but only to give them both what they wished. Holding his weight with one arm, he guided himself into her and then sank into her slick folds all the way to the hilt, wrenching a primal cry from her throat.

  Her internal muscles clutched his thick length so that he groaned in answer and kissed her more fiercely, tunneling his fingers through her hair to grip and tug.

  She never stopped wanting him, but his ability to command her libido with just a few words was astonishing, a miracle. Or perhaps it was just that she’d wanted someone like him for so long, her body had a surfeit of desire to offer.

  As he began to thrust, he kept his gaze locked on hers. She saw the brilliant shift as animal instinct took over. As her own climax built, it caught up to his, so when the orgasm ripped through him, she went over at the same time, just as he’d demanded.

  The release turned his features rigid, but in the right way. Not stone, no. He was containing a reaction that was anything but stone. It was the eruption of a volcano, the power of a summer storm, the force of life itself, and he swept her along with him, his grunts and her moans a pleasurable music added to the night.

  In the way of such things, they drifted back to earth in a fog of satisfied desire, hearts beating slower and breath evening out. At length, he shifted off of her and turned them so she was held in his arms, and they could both look at the night sky. The grass and her robe were soft beneath their pleasure-dampened skin. Locks of her hair fluttered across her cheek and his chest, carried there by the evening breeze.

  “You all right, snake-girl?”

  In more ways than she knew how to express. She tightened her arm across his abdomen in response, but then she thought of her earlier words to him.

  “What I said earlier… I do not know if I will conceive,” she said shyly. “But Charlie said there doesn’t seem to be anythin
g inhibiting that. She said maybe the spell kept it from happening and now…”

  “If it happens, I’ll cherish our child as I cherish you,” he said, tipping up her face to meet her eyes. “If it doesn’t happen, I’ll still love you more every day.”

  “As I will you, Master. You have my love and my service, just as the Goddess does.”

  “Good to hear.” He paused. “Because there’s something that traditionally comes before the whole kid thing. Marriage.”

  Medusa’s breath caught as that look came back to his expression, as if he were looking at the whole world, though he was only looking at her.

  “You’re going to marry me,” he added, as if he wanted to be sure she was clear on what he was asking. Or demanding.

  She closed her eyes, joy sliding through her. He was sure of her, as she was sure of him. “I am yours to command, Master.” She cracked an eyelid. “On most things.”

  “Hmm. Just like a woman, to qualify.” He sobered, touching her face. “No doubts?”

  She shook her head and smiled. Lifting her eyes to the sky, she looped her arms around his neck, holding him close. “I will never again doubt what love can make possible, John Pierce. It brought me you.”

  The End

  Ready For More?

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  About the Author

  Joey W. Hill writes about vampires, mermaids, boardroom executives, cops, witches, angels, housemaids…pretty much wherever her inspiration takes her. She's penned over forty acclaimed titles and six award-winning series, and been awarded the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award for Erotica. But she's especially proud and humbled to have the support and enthusiasm of a wonderful, widely diverse readership.

  So why erotic romance? “Writing great erotic romance is all about exploring the true face of who we are – the best and worst - which typically comes out in the most vulnerable moments of sexual intimacy.” She has earned a reputation for writing BDSM romance that not only wins her fans of that genre, but readers who would “never” read BDSM romance. She believes that's because strong, compelling characters are the most important part of her books.

  “Whatever genre you’re writing, if the characters are captivating and sympathetic, the readers are going to want to see what happens to them. That was the defining element of the romances I loved most and which shaped my own writing. Bringing characters together who have numerous emotional obstacles standing in their way, watching them reach a soul-deep understanding of one another through the expression of their darkest sexual needs, and then growing from that understanding into love - that's the kind of story I love to write."

  Take the plunge with her, and don't hesitate to let her know what you think of her work, good or bad. She thrives on feedback!

  Find more of Joey W. Hill’s work by following her on Facebook and Twitter, and check out her website for more books by Joey W. Hill.

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  Also by Joey W. Hill

  Arcane Shot Series

  Something About Witches

  In the Company of Witches

  Daughters of Arianne Series

  A Mermaid’s Kiss

  A Witch’s Beauty

  A Mermaid’s Ransom

  Knights of the Board Room Series

  Board Resolution

  Controlled Response

  Honor Bound

  Afterlife

  Hostile Takeover

  Willing Sacrifice

  Soul Rest

  Nature of Desire Series

  Holding the Cards

  Natural Law

  Ice Queen

  Mirror of My Soul

  Mistress of Redemption

  Rough Canvas

  Branded Sanctuary

  Divine Solace

  Worth The Wait

  Naughty Bits Series

  The Lingerie Shop

  Training Session

  Bound To Please

  The Highest Bid

  Naughty Wishes Series

  Part 1: Body

  Part 2: Heart

  Part 3: Mind

  Part 4: Soul

  Vampire Queen Series

  Vampire Queen’s Servant

  Mark of the Vampire Queen

  Vampire’s Claim

  Beloved Vampire

  Vampire Mistress

  Vampire Trinity

  Vampire Instinct

  Bound by the Vampire Queen

  Taken by a Vampire

  The Scientific Method

  Nightfall

  Elusive Hero

  Night’s Templar

  Non-Series Titles

  If Wishes Were Horses

  Virtual Reality

  Unrestrained

  Medusa’s Heart

  Novellas

  Chance of a Lifetime

  Choice of Masters

  Make Her Dreams Come True

  Threads of Faith

  Submissive Angel

  Short

  Snow Angel