Storm's Fury

by Nya Rayne

  “This is nonsense,” he said, his tone low, leaving no room for discussion. “You’re a nobody only if you wish it that way.”

  “You think I want to be like this?” Her voice cracked. “Damn it, I’m doing the best I can with what I was given. So, who are you to judge me?”

  “I’m not judging you.” Fury stood up with her still clasped in his arms. Before she could demand he put her down, he dumped her on the bed and turned away, his fingers raking through his dark shoulder-length hair. “I was simply stating a fact. You choose to go out there and rob men rather than make something of yourself.”

  “You don’t know anything,” she shouted, pushing up into a seated position. “You stand there telling me that you’re not judging me, but that’s exactly what you’re doing. You have no idea what I’ve been through or what I’ve had to do to survive.” Stormy slid off the bed and made a beeline for her clothes. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this shit from you. You’re nothing to me.” She dug through her bag and made quick work of pulling on the sullied skirt. She tugged his shirt over her head, not caring if he saw her naked. Yanking the bandana shirt from her bag she tided it around her chest as she finished, “You’re a self-righteous, uptight asshole, Fury.”

  “I might be, but I’m also your chosen. I would be doing you an injustice to lie to you. Or to stand here and allow you to lie to yourself.” He crossed the room, moving closer to her.

  She stepped back. “You’re not my chosen. You’re not my anything! You kidnapped me!” She snatched up a ceramic bowl off the nightstand and hurled it at his head. “You’re a sanctimonious prick!”

  He was on her before she could blink. Gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he possessively, yet gently, turned her face up so that she was staring into his eyes. “You say that enough and you still won’t truly believe it, will you?” Fury snatched her bag from her grip and tossed it across the room. “I’ve waited a hundred lifetimes for you, Ambrosia. Do you really think I’m going to allow you to walk away from me? We’re as inevitable as the tides.”

  “I don’t care if we were as inevitable as death. You can’t keep me here against my will. It’s against the law.”

  “My law is all that matters where you’re concerned.”

  Stormy’s breath caught in her throat as his solid body pressed into hers, forcing her back against the wall. Lightning struck in his eyes, and thunder rolled through her body. She brought her hands up in an attempt to force space between them. “Let…me…go,” she whispered weakly, unable to look away from him.

  “I can’t.” His head dipped and he captured her lips in a rough dominating kiss as he pulled her close, melding her body with his.

  Fury’s hand trailed down her waist, found her hip, and squeezed as his lips moved down the side of her face to her neck. He lifted her, pinning her body between the wall and him.

  Her legs had no choice but to straddle his hips.

  Every good sense she had screamed at her to stop him, to push him away. But her body, the traitor, wanted him. It craved him and, as stupid as it was, needed him. Her mind didn’t understand the sensations he was eliciting in her, but her body and soul understood them all too well.

  Fury tore her top from her body as his hands dipped between her legs. Slipping his hand under her skirt, his head lowered and captured her erect nipple between his teeth.

  Her body rolled against his as he palmed her nest, forcing a moan of pleasure from her lips.

  A growl rumbled up from the back of Fury’s throat as he slipped a finger into her. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you leave me. Not now, not ever.” Fury moved with lightning speed, carrying them to the bed. He laid her down, pulled his shirt off and unbuttoned his jeans, then relieved her of her skirt and panties in one tug.

  She lay beneath him, naked, and entranced by the sheer artistry of his body. Well-formed muscles wrapped his chest and dipped down to a slim waist. His stomach was the mold used to sculpt Michelangelo’s David.

  The man looked damn good in clothes, but he really should wear them less often. Her fingertips feathered over his heaving pectorals, ran the length of his arms, and traced his waistline. Stormy searched his face, looking for what, she didn’t know. She found need, desire, and longing, the likes of which she’d only glimpsed in dreams.

  Fury’s head dipped, capturing her mouth. He nibbled on her lower lip, begging entrance. “I need to feel you writhing beneath me.”

  Stormy raked her nails over his back as she undulated beneath him, needing to be so much closer to him than she already was. Her hand dipped, found the bulge in the front of his jeans and stroked him as her hips rose up and his finger, now two, slid in deeper. She breathed his name, the ache within building, demanding release.

  “Tell me to stop,” he ordered as he pushed up, balancing his weight on one hand while the fingers of his other hand worked steadily within her, driving her to the brink of insanity. “If you don’t want this and there’s no hope for us, tell me to stop now.”

  She wanted to say it, to scream it, but her body needed this. It needed him more than she wanted to admit. Stormy turned her head away so she didn’t have to look into his passion-filled eyes. She brought the back of her hand up to her mouth and tried to stifle a moan as her hips undulated against his hand.

  Fury was an expert at controlling her body, but she didn’t want to be one of many. Yet she still needed him to douse the blistering fire within her. There was no future for them. She accepted and understood that. Still, she craved him.

  He stood, pushing his jeans down over his hips before stepping out them. The action in itself was like a trip tease. It made everything too real, so she closed her eyes and succumbed to the euphoric sensations rolling through her.

  As if he were a fly on the wall of her mind listening to her deepest worries, Fury said, “For all eternity, it will be you and I. All I need is for you to accept me.” He slipped between her legs, his weight balanced on his hands. He dipped and captured her lips as he pushed forward, his length pressing into her.

  Stormy rose up, a gasp slipping from her lips. Sensations washed over and through her, turning her insides upside down and wrong-side out. Fire burned in her veins, setting her heart to flutter. The ache in her core grew and doubled with each thrust of his hips, each nip of his teeth against her neck, her breasts. She clung to him, praying this feeling would never end.

  “I need more. Please give me more.” She was dying. He was tearing her down and remaking her to be what he wanted. Sparks shot through her and twisted into the farthest reaches of her extremities as her body jerked uncontrollably while her walls constricted around his shaft.

  The feel of her as his cock moved within her, pulled at who and what he was. It forced back the darkness within and promised him millennia in the light.

  He had lain with other women, but never had Fury experienced anything quite like this. It was like dying and being reborn in the same exact instant.

  The pleasure was excruciating.

  In this moment nothing mattered except Stormy and her happiness. Whatever she wanted, he would give as long as she never left him.

  Fury pulled her to him, his hands gripping her hips as he dove deeper, driving his length deeper into her.

  His semen would begin the binding process, sealing their DNA. Whatever latent powers she had would begin to surface and, after each lovemaking session, grow stronger.

  He hadn’t wanted their first time to be rushed. He wanted to spend hours loving her, caressing her, and learning every inch of her body. But he would make up for it. In the wee hours of the morning or the dusk hours of the evening, he would love her again and again until she forgave him for so crudely taking what she’d held on to for so many years.

  The world around him exploded, his toes curled, his heart raced, his lungs filled and everything he was spilled into her, filling her, coating her insides and throwing him into Anubis’s abyss. The underside of his penis swelled, throbbed, and
burned against her walls as the knot which had been buried deep within him from creation ripped forward, burying itself deep in her, pumping his seed into her.

  Based on what he’d been told by Tempest, Stormy would experience an intense burning sensation and a rush of adrenaline only matched by the purest heroin. Her orgasm would climb as if multiplied by countless lines of the whitest cocaine. The introduction of the knot to her womb would be painful, but it would last but a second before she was bathed in agonizingly sweet pleasure.

  She clawed viciously at his back as she cried out again and again, and begged with an incoherent tongue for the impossible from her god.

  “Be easy, love. It will subside soon.” Fury kissed both her eyes, the tip of her nose, and her lips as he slipped from her and rolled to the side after the knot withdrew from her. This would continue to occur until she fully accepted him. At that time the knot would leave his body and bury itself in her womb for all time, assuring that another male would never be able to touch her in the manner he did.

  He pulled Stormy into his arms, settling her head in the crook of his shoulder.

  “Why didn’t you stop me like this before?” She asked breathlessly, her hands fisting around his neck and into his hair. “I swear I wouldn’t have tried to run away a second time.”

  Euphoria had her in its grip. There was no doubt about that. Had he asked her to crawl to him on bended knee over broken glass, she would have.

  “Trust me, I thought about it, but I didn’t think it would work.” Fury leaned up, kissed her and brushed a few tendrils of hair from her face. “Did I hurt you?”

  Stormy laughed and shook her head. “If I knew that’s what sex was like, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I see why my mom said Iya was nuts!”

  Fury stilled beside her. He pushed up, ran his hand down his face, and stood up. Turning on her, his hands on his hips, he said in a low tone, “I’m the only man made to touch you like that, Ambrosia. No one else.”

  Stormy pushed up, her body still quaking, her legs trembling. “Well, how do I know if you were good at it? It’s not like I have anyone to compare you to. I have to try at least one other person to be totally informed.” She grinned and brushed sweat soaked strands of hair from her face. “Maybe I should try two guys and a girl to be sure all my bases are covered.”

  Fury shook his head, scooped her up, and tossed her over his shoulder before starting up the stairs to the bathroom. He smacked her bare ass. “Unless you want blood on your hands, I would suggest you don’t ever consider such a foolish endeavor.”

  Her laughter rolled over him, warming him and soothing his mind. She was truly his life, the beat of his heart, and the air that filled his lungs.

  Chapter Ten

  Heated, sweet-smelling water lapped at her nipples as masculine hands ran the length of her midsection, and the powerful thrum of Fury’s heart at her back lulled her into sweet serenity. Stormy closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder.

  He had climbed into the tub and pulled her in behind him so she was settled between his log-like thighs. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body: his arms, chest, back, legs, and stomach were pure muscles.

  Men—real men—aren’t supposed to look like this. But, here I am lying between his legs, pressed against his solid frame, his chiseled arms encircling me. This has to be a dream. In a day or so, when he’s lowered his guard enough, I’ll figure a way out of here, before this illusion fades. If she was good at nothing else, she was good at disappearing.

  Regardless of what he thought and what Iya had claimed, this—all of this—wasn’t real. Real was the force hunting her and the streets that hid her. This was just fate’s sick freaking joke.

  Stormy sighed as her palms skimmed over the top of the water and came to rest on Fury’s bent knees. “This is crazy. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things in my life, but I can’t say I’d count this as one of them.” Fury scooped up a handful of water and let it trickle down between her breasts. “Before Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed, though rumors were rampant of their impending destruction, humans still flocked there in droves—that was crazy.” He cupped each of her breasts. “When I watched David slay Goliath, I thought that was crazy too.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.” Stormy scooted down lower into the water. “Wait, are you saying you were present during the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and the fight between David and Goliath?” She pushed up and spun so she could see his face when he answered.

  Black lashes lowered before he looked up at her, a shy smile on his well-crafted face. His regal nose wrinkled and he glanced away before looking back at her, but he didn’t answer.

  “Fury, are you telling me you were there for those events?” He still didn’t answer. “You keep yapping about me accepting you…accepting us…but how can I entertain the idea when you don’t answer any of my questions?” She pushed away from him, slid to the opposite end of the tub, and continued. “How old are you? How can you do the things you do? The things I’ve seen you do?”

  “Yes, I was present for both events. Crul and Hatrid—my brothers—and I actually had coins on Goliath. When David took him down with one stone we were more than a little surprised that such a small pebble could take down a man of that magnitude, but then again, a hard blow to the temple would take down any man. Wouldn’t it?” Fury sighed. “As for Sodom and Gomorrah, Crul and I were entrusted by Anubis with spreading word of the cities’ destruction in hopes of reducing the souls that would require guidance into the afterlife. The more people we warned, the more people flocked there.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, but I am,” he responded with a smile. “My favorite story though, was the one about the brothers, Cain and Abel. Your Bible tells it as a story of faith and jealousy. Of course, Cain was made out to be the bad guy, but the part of the story not told is that while Abel was sacrificing, giving to his God, and honoring his parents, he was also slowly poisoning Cain’s harvest. Cain went to Abel to discuss it in hopes of coming to an understanding, but Abel struck out against him.” Fury trailed his nails down the side of her neck. “Cain definitely killed Abel, but it was in self-defense.”

  “Fury, how old are you?”

  “I stopped counting centuries ago.” He stretched his arms out across the rim of the tub and rested his head back against the cushioned edge.

  “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

  “Good genes,” he said with a smirk.

  Stormy stared at him, learning his face, every groove, every dip, and every dimple. “When you stopped counting, how old were you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it was the end of my thirty-second hundredth summer or somewhere around there.”

  “That isn’t possible.”

  “Why? Because, once again, you wish it that way?”

  “No, because it’s not humanly possible.”

  “Therein lies the problem. You’re thinking in human terms.” He leaned forward as he reached for her. “I’m not human, Ambrosia, I’m Anubi. Born of the crushed bones and blood of Anubis. When we were created, we were in our mid-teens and we didn’t age at all. After Anubis was assassinated, we started aging a year every two hundred and fifty to five hundred years, depending on one’s loyalty.”

  “Loyalty?”

  He nodded. “You see, after Anubis’s assassination, some Anubi saw no need to continue to follow his edict—to protect his offspring—and instead shirked their duties and tried to live as human men. However, within a few short centuries, all who had strayed started aging as humans do. They lost all of their power and were forced to live as decrepit men who to this day still walk amongst the living, begging for death but knowing it will never come. So yeah, loyalty plays a big role in it.”

  “Anubis? He’s a mythical being created by an overly active mind.” She moved away from him, pulled her legs up to her chest
, and covered her breasts. “What you’re saying could land you in the nut house.”

  Fury chuckled and leaned back, his arms stretched out along the rim of the tub once more. “Anything you humans can’t recreate or understand, you file in the mythical column. In a thousand years, when you and I are sitting here or in another tub in some other part of the world, we’ll be talking about all the things we know for a fact happened, but because the current society wasn’t there to witness it, they’ll call them myths. Like racism; do you really think in a thousand or so years anyone will believe racism played such a huge role in the building of civilizations all across the world? Or that there was a time when humans believed they were alone in the universe?”

  Stormy could only stare at him. A thousand years? Hell, by my track record we have what, maybe a day or so at best before I have to move again. When she left—and she would—she’d take this memory of him with her and she’d hold it dear to her heart. She glanced at one of the scented candles lining the marble sink and wished only briefly that they were lit. She blinked and they were. “Did you do that?”

  One by one, the candles went out, only to relight again in a flicker. The overhead light went out as one flame burned brighter than the rest. It waved in a come-hither fashion as a dark smudge appeared in the yellowish portion of the flame—the belly. The smudge grew as the flame did, burning brighter and brighter until an image of Stormy’s face smiled and then winked back at her.

  Stormy could only look at him in amazement.

  “Each member in an Anubi pack has control of an element in addition to our other gifts. Hatrid can control the wind and manifest illusions. Crul has control over everything that grows from the earth and can wipe one’s mind of all memory. My elemental power happens to be fire, and I can manipulate the atmosphere: lightning, the clouds, that kind of thing.”

  She stared at Fury for a long breathless moment. “What else can you do?”