Storm's Fury

by Nya Rayne

  “You smell like salvation,” he whispered as he continued his exploration. His hand trailed down her waist to her thigh where he squeezed. “You feel like sex on a hot summer’s day, Ambrosia. How is that possible?” He moved down her body, his mouth brushing over her erect nipples. He nuzzled his head between her breasts as his fist bunched in her shirt and then slipped beneath it. He found one nipple and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger while his lips found the other nipple and nibbled it through the thin material.

  His aroma was intoxicating, Stormy decided as she allowed her head to loll to the side. It was more subtle than cologne. She moaned, arched up off the bed, and pulled his head closer as her legs parted. The heat growing within her swelled.

  “Fury, who are you?” she breathed, in an attempt to bring some sort of cognizance back. “What are you doing to me?”

  His head dipped lower, his tongue skating over her belly. “I am your every wish, your every dream, Ambrosia. All you need to do is accept me.”

  Rioting emotions overwhelmed her as his tongue lavished her abdomen with heated kisses, setting off tumultuous sparks that twisted out into every crevice of her body. “My every wish?”

  His voice was velvet and feather down blankets. It promised her warmth and security, and pleasures untold.

  “Accept me.” His hand ran the length of her leg, cupped her thigh and squeezed. He dipped lower, kissed the rise of her womanhood, parted her with his tongue, and made a slow track up and down her dripping slit. “Sweet.” A growl rose up in the back of his throat, his hands tightened on her hips, holding her to him as he sucked her clit into his mouth.

  Stormy lost all hold on sanity. She was drowning in a sea of blissful pleasure. It tore at her insides, wrapping her up in a blanket of ecstasy. She fisted one hand into the sheets below her, while her other hand found his head and forced him deeper. His tongue stroked as he drank everything she offered.

  “Fury?” The world around her spun as he pushed her to the brink of insanity and allowed her to free-fall into a world filled with colors she’d never seen, and sensations she’d never experienced.

  As her orgasm rose and fell, Fury moved further down her body, his hands kneading, his lips kissing, and his tongue stroking every scratch, no matter how inconsequential.

  His perusal of her body was intimate, possessive, mind-blowing, and meticulous.

  Chapter Eight

  Certain he had tended to all of her scratches, Fury slid up Stormy’s body, his cock hard with desire. He gazed down into her hazed eyes and knew he would never get tired of looking at her, of touching her. There would never be a time when he did not want to be near her. She was perfect in every way, from her full breasts and flat stomach to her petite waist and curvaceous hips.

  “I thought you didn’t want sex?”

  He moved, dipped his head, and feathered the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. “This is not sex. This is intimacy.”

  “Is there a difference? You said you didn’t want sex and you go and do something like that? I shouldn’t have allowed you to do it.” She shivered, her body rolling up to meet his as his tongue traced her lips, his hand sliding up and down the outside of her thigh, while the other fisted in her hair at the nape of her neck.

  “Your body knows me well. Open your mind to me and you’ll have all the answers you seek.” Fury wanted to take her right then and there. She was his—mind, body, and soul. She’d bound him to her, not the other way around.

  “What does that mean? I didn’t know you existed until last night.” She gasped softly as he trailed slow kisses down her neck and nipped at her collarbone. He palmed her ass, forcing her knees to fall open.

  “You allow me to touch you like this because you know it’s right.” His head dipped again and he captured her lips in a heated kiss that left him feeling inebriated. “Allow your head to listen to your body. Accept me, and in time you will learn to love me.”

  “Accept you?”

  “Yes,” Fury breathed into the valley between her breasts as he shifted from right to left, sparing only brief seconds to run the tip of his tongue across the thin material covering her erect nipples.

  “Why does it matter if I accept you or not? I’m your prisoner. Right now you’re proving you can do with me as you choose.” Her breathy whisper rattled Fury’s soul.

  By expecting her to give herself to him blindly, Fury knew he was asking her for the world. By all accounts she was right. He was a stranger to her, one who had literally snatched her off the street. What could he honestly say to that?

  Fury pushed back and gazed down at her. Fingering the soft damp strands of her hair away from her face, he said softly, “From the moment I laid eyes on you, Ambrosia, you became my life. You’re the beat of my heart, the air filling my lungs. Without you, I’ll cease to exist.” He spent a long moment taking her in before he continued, “You wanted to know who I was, what I am. Well, I’m your chosen mate. You need to accept me as I’ve accepted you—without question or doubt.”

  Stormy froze, then shook her head fiercely, pushed against his chest and released a guttural sound that resembled a wounded Tasmanian devil. “No!” She shoved at his shoulders, and kicked out her legs as if she were actually strong enough to throw him off of her. “Get away from me!”

  Fury obeyed, disturbed by the change. He gently pushed into her mind. He saw memories of an older woman with time-weathered skin, thin, snow-white hair and nearly translucent blue eyes. The moment he realized it was her grandmother, Fury pulled back.

  Stormy scuttled to the other side of the bed and toppled to the floor. She pulled her knees tight to her chest as she leaned into the wall behind her, looking more like a scared animal than the beautiful, strong young woman he was becoming fond of.

  He could have delved deeper into her mind, watched the conversations play out between her and her grandmother, and had his answers, but he didn’t want to cheat her out of her privacy. For something this important, he wanted her to tell him willingly. “Tell me what’s wrong.” His tone was gentle and warm.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Stormy shook her head, brought her hands up to cover her ears and tried, but failed, to stifle a low groan. She sprung to her feet and charged for the door.

  Fury caught her and pulled her into his arms. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  A floodgate opened. She pounded his chest as tears poured from her eyes. In that moment he wanted to rob her of every memory she owned that could still hurt her. He pulled her closer, pressed her head against his chest, and held her until she calmed down.

  He lifted her, carried her to the bed, and settled down on the edge with her in his lap. Her confusion and pain tore at the wall he was trying to hide behind, the one that was supposed to keep her at bay.

  Fury tentatively ran his hand down the side of her face. “Did I say or do something stupid again?” He waited, but didn’t get an answer. “I guess now would be as good as any time to apologize for last night. The things I said to you—I should have thought before I spoke, and I didn’t. For that I apologize.”

  Stormy wiped her face on his T-shirt and stared up at him. She shook her head once. “I don’t believe anything you’ve said, Fury. It’s nonsense. It’s all nonsense. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. So—so I can’t be what you want me to be. You kidnapped me off the street and brought me here. You’re trying to brainwash me. That’s all this is.”

  “I expected as much from you, but simply because you don’t believe me doesn’t make it untrue. You are my chosen and I am yours.” As the words fell from his lips, he prayed she wouldn’t see the pain her truth had caused him.

  “Are you listening to yourself? Chosen? Chosen? You sound like my senile grandmother. There are no such things as chosens or life mates or any of that other romanticized crap. I’m not the beat of your heart. Your heart beats in order to pump blood through your body. Your lungs fill with oxygen because without it you would di
e. It’s that simple. No more, no less, no fanciful dreams or candy-topped trees. You kidnapped me because you’re a horny pervert, that’s it.”

  Although her tone begged him to indulge her disbelief, Fury couldn’t play this off as some crazy dream. She had to accept him, and in the process claim the Anubi blood coursing through her veins. If she didn’t, he’d lose his powers and immortality and she would be left with but half a soul.

  A part of him reveled in the knowledge that she wished to deny him. It kept a small amount of hope alive that he could return to life as it was, but the logical part of him knew he could not allow her to continue living in this fantasy world, as she called it.

  “The fact that I’m here with you is living proof that sometimes there is truth to folklore. You’ve seen me do things no human could imagine doing. You yourself said you believe other species exist. How can you believe such things, yet when it comes to soul connections and me, you think so little of them?”

  Stormy searched his face looking for signs of lunacy, no doubt. She settled back down on his lap and sighed. “My mother said that Iya was crazy. Everyone…even the neighborhood children thought she was nuts. Mom always said Iya meant well, but that I shouldn’t listen to any thing Iya told me.”

  “What did Iya—is that your grandmother?”

  “Yes. I called her Iya. She tried to get me to call her Granny or Nana, but it never stuck. She was my Iya.” Stormy pinched the skin on the inside of her right wrist as if she was tugging at an invisible bracelet.

  Fury tucked her further under his chin. Holding her, soothing her was fast becoming second nature. “What kind of stories did Iya tell you?”

  “My family—well the women of my mother’s side of the family—is originally from Egypt. I think my great-great-great grandmother tracked our ancestors back to a town called Karnack, but I’m not sure.”

  “You don’t believe you’re of Egyptian descent?”

  “No, I believe that part. It was the other things she said.” Stormy shifted. “I know some people claim to be descendants of pharaohs and queens, but Iya took it a step further. I mean, well, I shouldn’t say Iya, because she was only passing on what her mother and her mother’s mother told her, but it’s so farfetched, Fury.” She shifted again and pushed back so she could look at him. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but please don’t think I’m crazy, okay?”

  He pulled her back into his arms. “I’d never think such a thing.”

  “You say that now.” She rubbed her hands together and ducked her head. “Iya said we were descendants of the gods.” She scoffed and added quickly, “How crazy is that? When you found me, did I look like a descendent of any god you’ve ever heard of?” She pushed on, not waiting for an answer. “When I went to live with her, I asked if we were descendants of gods, why we didn’t live better? For freak’s sake, she had a single-wide trailer in the middle of nowhere. She barely had running water. Gods are supposed to be all-knowing and powerful, aren’t they? So, if we’re descendants of them, then how come every generation of my family, for as far back as I can remember, amounted to absolutely nothing?”

  Stormy slipped from his lap. “None of the women in my family have ever married. Not one of them.” She paced the floor between him and the fireplace. “Iya and my great-grandmother lived off the state. My mom was a fortuneteller at the local carnival in my hometown. My aunt went to school to be a nurse, but never could focus long enough to pass the NCLEX exam. She said the animals outside the testing site window wouldn’t stop talking to her. Fury, I come from a long line of lunatics!” She continued to pace as she twirled a length of her dark hair through her fingers. “I-I’m practically homeless. I barely finished high school. I’ve worked nearly every soul-sucking job out there, and now my claim to fame is that I walk the street. I guess you’ve gotten yourself a good one this time, because there isn’t a damn soul out there that’s missing me right now.”

  When she chanced a glance in his direction, Fury could read every ounce of shame she felt. He wanted to tell her she would never have to work another day in her life if she didn’t want to, and that with him, her most farfetched dreams could be made real. But now wasn’t the time. “This Iya sounds interesting,” he said instead.

  “She was the best grandmother anyone could ever ask for, but sometimes she didn’t seem all there.” Stormy tugged at the end of the shirt. “That stuff you said earlier, why did you say it to me?”

  “Have you heard it before?”

  Stormy shrugged. “Not exactly, but Iya used to tell my mom that she was stupid to get pregnant with me. She said I was the reason mom lost any chance of finding her chosen mate.” Her cheeks reddened. “It wasn’t really about me. It was just something she said. She’d held out hope that my mom wouldn’t make the same mistakes that she had. She settled for the first guy that came around.” Stormy gnawed on her lower lip before continuing. “Iya believed that because we were descendants of the Gods, we were meant to mate with only other descendants. She called them ‘the chosens.’ She told me that I would know him when I saw him, but if I willingly gave away my virginity or ever let a guy touch me like you did tonight, I would miss my chance. I would be tainted.”

  “So, I’ve tainted you?” He knew then that before him, no other man had ever touched her in such a way. How that was possible in this day and age, he hadn’t a clue, but he was thankful.

  A beautiful red hue stole over her high cheeks before she turned away from him. “I told you it was silly.”

  Fury crossed the short distance between them. “So you’re upset because I called you my chosen, is that it?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ran his knuckles down her chin. “Is it so hard to believe we’ve found one another?”

  “You sound like her, Fury. You sound just as crazy as she did when she told me I would magically meet some guy who would sweep me off my feet. She said that he would be—”

  “Your every wish and prayer. The dream of your heart and aficionado of your deepest desires,” Fury finished as he leaned in and brushed a kiss across her lips.

  “How could you know what she said to me? This isn’t making any sense.” Stormy was bordering on hysterical as she pulled away from him. “Mom said she was a crazy old woman who needed to believe there was more to this life than misery.”

  “Iya wasn’t crazy, love. I’m proof of that.” Stormy wrapped her arms around her middle. He could see tiny bumps of goose flesh rise up along her arms and legs. He stepped quickly across the room, lit the fire in the fireplace, and was back before she could blink.

  Stormy gasped and turned to the blazing fire. “Did you do that?”

  “You were cold.” He held out a hand for her. “Come, let’s make sense of this together.”

  She stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment, before conceding and allowing him to pull her back into his lap. In a matter of hours they were being transformed from captive and captor to lovers, or at least friends.

  He hadn’t thought having her in his arms would ever feel so good or so right.

  Chapter Nine

  Stormy settled on his lap, circled his back with one arm, and fisted the other hand into the front of his shirt. “What are you, Fury? How can you do these things?”

  He sighed lightly, closed his eyes, and spoke as he reopened them. “I’m many things: a protector, a hunter, a savior, and a condemner. I was born of the bones and blood of Anubis, Ambrosia.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “My kind has walked the earth since before the first dynasty rose out of the sands of Egypt. We were initially created to usher the souls of the dead, carrying them from the surface to the underworld. But when Anput, Anubis’s wife, had him assassinated, our sole purpose became protecting Anubis’s offspring.” He brushed his lips across her cheek. “I’m an Anubi, and you, love, are a direct descendent of Anubis.”

  Stormy pushed away and peered up at him. She’d never heard of such a thing, real or folklore. Sure, she’d read about v
ampires, werewolves, demons, and gargoyles, but this? She shook her head. “What’s an Anubi? I haven’t read any books about those.”

  His laughter spilled out, filling the room and her soul with such warmth that Stormy found herself relaxing. I could listen to him for forever and a day, she mused.

  “Do you believe everything you read?” One eyebrow was quirked higher than the other and mischief danced within his eyes.

  “Don’t be an ass.” Stormy tried to hide her chagrin. “Reading about something beforehand—regardless of how farfetched—does make it easier to digest, though. Besides, I’m sixty-percent sure other species don’t exist. It’s that other forty percent that worries me.”

  “I see, so had there been a book or movie about the Anubi and chosen mates, Iya wouldn’t have been labeled as delusional?”

  “You’re so not funny.” She dropped her head and hid her face in her hands momentarily before looking up at him again. “The more I talk to you, the more I’m beginning to think you’re not only a pervert, but you’re also an obnoxious prick.” He laughed, actually laughed at her, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s say I believe half of what you’re saying, Fury. What do you want with me? I’m no one special. I have nothing to offer you.”

  Fury leaned away from her. “Don’t ever say that again. You’re the essence of Anubis. You’re my chosen. My gift for millennia of service; there’s nothing you need to give me except yourself.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “Within you, you have the power to be and do all things.”

  His words were so sincere, she wanted to believe them, but she couldn’t. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said to you? I’m not some genius. I don’t have any special skills. I’m—I’m—I rob men. I don’t have a home to call my own. I can’t stay in one place for more than three weeks. I’m a vagrant. Need I go on?” she finished in exasperation.