This want flowed through her body from where he teased, to where the vibrator sat, shaking her insides and causing her to scream in passion.
"Please, Craven!" she wailed, her hand fisting in the material, holding onto it as it centered her body, preventing it from flying to pieces. Uncaring of who may be listening, Nola threw back her head and screamed. "Now! Please Craven. Fuck me! Please!"
"What I wanted to hear," Craven growled as he reared back and slammed home, hard and deep.
"Yes!" Nola screamed, her inner muscles immediately spasming around him, milking him as white lights flashed behind her eyes and her body convulsed in climax.
Her sphincter clamped on to the buzzing toy, increasing the intensity of her explosion, making it last far longer than she thought possible. Nothing could be better that that!
And then he began to move.
Craven felt Nola obtain her release, but he wanted her to have more.
He knew that she would be sensitive after such an orgasm, but he also knew that her body was just warming up.
He slowly began to thrust, plunging deep and grinding his hips against her, rotating his hard cock in her clenching pussy.
"No," Nola whimpered as a pleasurable pain filled her. Her clit burned and her body began to overload. It was too much too soon.
But Craven continued, slowly and steadily, a grin on his face as his hair began to stick in wet tendrils to his body.
Slowly he began to pick up the pace and her resistance melted into growing desire.
She began to arch her hips up, thrusting back, forcing him in deeper.
Her denials turned to pleas for more as she closed her eyes and let these feelings swamp her.
Faster and faster Craven moved, until she matched him thrust for thrust, then he reached down and grasped the handle of the dildo.
"Craven!"
Nola screamed and jerked as Craven began to thrust the dildo counter to his movements within Nola's wet sheath.
She began to wail wordless screams of passion, begging for more as he manipulated both of her openings, dragging her to heights she had never before reached.
Nola was trapped inside a primal fury that grew stronger within her.
Unable to move to release her feelings, the tension built higher and higher, forcing her to dizzying heights of ecstasy.
Her head whipped from side to side, her throat numb from the screaming, sweat beading on her flesh, and still she wanted more!
Craven's breath rasped from his lungs as he pumped like a piston. He used his free hand to grab the sling making it swing harder, faster into him, adding to the strength of his lunges.
He was lost; all thoughts of control vanished as he closed his eyes and gave into his instincts.
He pummeled her, he slammed her, he damn near killed himself as he tried to thrust deeper into her body all the way to her soul.
But his kind of animalistic passion could not last.
Even as he opened his mouth to scream out a denial, he felt his nuts slam to the base of his cock and the first scalding shots of his life force rocket through his cock.
"No… damn… fuck, Nola!"
One lone roar of passion-pained release filled the air as Craven gritted his teeth, arched his back and let his climax fly.
Feeling him, seeing him reach this level pushed Nola over the top again.
She shrieked her pleasure as again her muscles convulsed around him, squeezing him deeply, trying to suck in his spirit, as her soul broke free of its earthly bonds and shot through the universe.
Craven lunged uncontrollably, without rhythm, as spurt after spurt of his seed exploded from his cock, his body torn between desire and pain. He relished both sensations.
Finally, his orgasm began to ease, his body unclenching from its spasm as he fell forward onto Nola, the sling stretching to accommodate them both. He pulled the dildo from her body and let it fall to the floor with a clang.
Nola panted, trying to relearn how to breathe and think as she felt his large warm weight settle on her. Instead of his weight being uncomfortable, he felt…comforting and enveloping.
Much nicer than the leather, she thought.
"Are you okay," he panted, breathing deeply between each word.
Nola moaned her consent, nodding her head, for every other part of her was numb.
"Damn, I …" He stopped before he finished that statement.
Tiredly pulling himself up, he grinned down at the sweaty, shaking slip of a Human who had turned his world inside out.
She didn't seem to notice his slip, and that was all right with him.
Slowly he began to pull the leather from her body, sliding each piece away and exposing her tender flesh.
"Craven?"
"Shh," he admonished. "We need a washing."
He pulled the tight leather gear from both of their bodies, and with a snap of his fingers, the room began to sway.
A large scented tub rose from the ground and Craven eased the now naked Nola into his arms before lowering her into the tub.
She hissed as the hot water hit her sore flesh, but soon moaned in delight as the heat began to sink into her abused muscles, easing their strain.
But the greatest pleasure was Craven sliding in behind her, until she was cupped along his body, feeling his swelled but not hard cock rest against her ass.
"Shh, Nola," he soothed as he began to rub her arms, spreading the scented water over her. "After this bath, we rest. Then we have much to discuss."
Chapter Twelve
Nola drifted, lost in a sensual haze. Her body was limp with exhaustion, suspended in a dream-like haze.
Her mind was at total ease, awash in the lingering ecstasy that seemed to move her in a between-place where she was content to drift, languid and lost.
"Damn, you are beautiful," Craven purred, and Nola realized that she was not floating. She was being carried.
She was suspended within the cradle of Craven's arms.
And even more surprising, she felt safe.
Safe and cherished were emotions that she was not familiar with in her life. Three wee emotions that she always associated with love.
But love was a person—kind of—here in this place.
And that more than anything served to remind her that her stay here was temporary.
She had to protect herself, and allowing herself to feel—to feel anything—was out of the question,
She would not even attempt to categorize the emotions that she felt for the man that carried her so easily in his arms.
That would be dangerous, and Nola always played it safe.
There was security in safety, which was why she was getting married soon.
There was nothing safe with Craven, in loving Craven, for feeling anything for him at all.
She had to be casual. Her safety depended upon it.
"My word, Craven. What did you do to the female?"
The voice was low and royal, and that was strange enough to make her attempt to open her eyes.
But it as the man himself that impressed her.
Pale blue hair hung nearly to the floor in a long tail. His eyes appeared just as pale.
He had the carriage of a warrior, the stance of the soldier, and the presence of a king.
"Oberon," Craven sighed. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
Oberon? Oberon. It was the King of the Fairies himself.
"No. Pleasing my queen is the best thing I can do. So in doing my best, I must insist that you send the Human home. Now."
Craven halted with his sweet bundle in his arms and felt something new.
He felt fear.
"By your silence, I am to assume that you agree."
"Well, I didn't say that."
"What do you mean?"
"Yes Craven, whatever do you mean? And the Human would appreciate it if you stopped speaking of her as if she didn't have a brain in her head."
Both men looked down at her, disbelief etched on their face
s.
"Human? Do you not know who I am?"
"Can you tell me in two titles or less?" she said without thinking.
Her mind was all set to go home and away from Craven and the desires he was bringing out in her. It was too dangerous to stay here, and if she had to apply to the King himself, she would.
"And this is the creature you defy me for? Are you sure it is able to think?"
"That was sarcasm," Nola felt the need to explain.
"Well, it is at least well-endowed," Oberon allowed, his eyes stuck on her oh-so-abundant bosom.
Nola blanched, then blushed as she realized that she had gotten so used to being naked in this place, that she forgot that she was in the raw.
Her arms instantly went to cover her bosom and exposed crotch.
"Now see what you made her do?" Craven uttered, completely at a loss with his ex-companion and King. "Now I have to train her to be nude all over again."
"You are correcting me?" Oberon's eyebrow rose up as he glared at the wayward fairy. "And don't change the subject. Send the creature home now."
"Train me?" Nola's eyes widened at his words. Train her, as if she were a pet?
"Oh, hush," Craven snarled, earning a glare from the two other people in the hall.
"By all means," Nola growled as she struggled out of his arms. "Send me home now."
It is for the best, her mind insisted. She felt as if she had been shown the doorway to some fantastic world, some paradise, and now was being forced to leave with only a sampling of the delights it held for her.
Pain was building in her chest, but she was used to that. She had to get out of this place before her want of Craven turned into a need.
"I can't," Craven finally admitted, his face screwed up in an attitude of displeasure.
"Can't or won't?" Nola asked, her eyes narrowing as panic began to blossom in her chest.
What had she gotten herself into? She had to leave now.
"Can't," Craven growled, crossing his arms defiantly.
"Why?"
Oberon and Nola shouted the question at the same time. The looked at each other in disbelief, then turned shocked looks to Craven.
They wanted, no, needed answers.
"Because there was no escape clause in your wish."
"What?" Nola cried, incredulous.
"You must be joking," Oberon added. "No escape clause? What were you thinking?"
Craven slowly let his eyes roam over Nola's naked body, making her cross her arms again and shake her hair forward to cover her breasts.
Both men appraised her nakedness and exchanged similar wicked looks.
"Okay, I can see why you would be distracted," Oberon allowed. "But she cannot stay here. You have to find a way…or I will find a way for you."
That last sounded ominous to Nola's ears as she stood between the two proud men.
Oberon seemed insistent, but Craven seemed…
Nothing. His face was blank.
Then it began to dawn on her that maybe this is what Craven did to all of his women.
The crystalline feelings of joy she had developed in his arms exploded, each shard slashing her heart open.
"Is this a game to you?" Nola hissed as she stared at Craven. "Do you bring Humans here, get your jollies off, and then have the big guy get rid of the evidence when you are through?"
"Nola," Craven began tiredly.
"No. Is this what you do, Craven? How many before me have fallen for your cheap tricks and lies? How many have you seduced and then left to rot in some bog?"
"I have never…"
"I want to go home," Nola shouted. "Home, Craven. Take me home. I don't care how you do it. You did this to me. You got me here with your promises and your teases, and now you leave me to die? To die at the hands of a man that should not exist, who does not exist in my world?"
"I am not a man, Human," Oberon felt the need to point out. "I am of the earth and of magic."
"Whatever," she screamed as tears and real fear began to blossom on her face. "I don't want to die. I want to go home and marry safe plain Gregor and never have another day of excitement in my life, so long as I am alive."
Craven stared at her, conflicting emotions running through him.
He wanted so much to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be okay, and to beg her not to leave, but he couldn't. He was of dark desire and black sensuality. He could not be soft or romantic, or caring, or…falling in love.
"Answer me. Send me home." Nola screamed, tears running freely down her face.
Continued silence.
"Then damn you to hell, Craven. Damn you and what you make me feel."
Turning, she took off down the hall, straight for the first door she could find, the door to the Mirror Room. She tugged twice, hard, and then the lock gave.
Chapter Thirteen
The pounding of her heart drowned out all thought as Nola slung open the first unlocked door she came to and raced inside.
Then she froze as the room began to shimmer and spin around her.
At the center of this vortex of light was a large S-shaped mirror.
As fast as the world began to tilt, it righted itself and Nola found herself staring at images of herself.
From floor to ceiling, there were reflections of herself, and some of them were quite scary.
There she was, a lustful look in her eyes, and across the room, her image looking sad and lost. In front of her was her image, eyes at half-mast and face filled with lust. And beside that, another image of her face raised up and filled with love.
"What is this?" she asked, her eyes filling with horror as all the images, all the aspects of herself, turned to face her. And then she knew.
She was looking at, inside the core soul of herself.
Slowly, she walked to a reflection closest to her, reached out her hand and gently caressed the image.
Her mirror self was crying and she knew why.
They were tears for what could have been.
"This is all me, what's inside of me?"
All the faces nodded, and it was a bit dizzying to see…her, in all phases of emotions, nodding at once.
Nola carefully touched the mirror closest to her again. The face stared back, large brown eyes liquid with some unnamed emotion.
It was beautiful in its sadness.
"What could put such a look on my face?" she mused.
Then the large mirror in the center of the room began to spin.
Drawn almost against her will, Nola approached, each measured step filling her with dread.
Faster and faster the mirror spun, casting flashes of light against the mirrored walls.
Then just as suddenly, it stopped.
Trembling, Nola raised her eyes and saw an image of Craven, in all his naked splendor, hair being blown by some unseen wind.
"He would make me cry," she whispered as she realized that all of these emotions she was feeling were a direct result of being around Craven.
"But I need to get back home," she said, voicing her thoughts. "If I remain here, I will die. Or Craven will drive me crazy. My future is with Gregor."
The mirror pulsed, rippled, and the image of Craven returned.
"No. Craven is not my future," she insisted. "He just doesn't mean that much to me."
Then the picture of Craven disappeared and a picture of herself took its place.
But this picture was hideous. Her visage was twisted in a hideous mask, eyes lowered in hate and despair.
"What is this?" Nola asked, horrified as the picture of herself began to deteriorate, twisting into some creature from the pit of her worse nightmare.
Slowly she backed away, but the faces, the ugly hurtful faces, followed, their condemning eyes on her retreating figure.
Giving into her fright, she turned and tried to race from the room, forgetting that the walls were covered in mirrors.
As she did, even more horrific images of herself glared at her, condemned her.
Then she was racing to where she thought the door would be, pounding on it, screaming for someone to let her out.
Glancing over her shoulder, she found no pity in the many eyes that stared back at her, only condemnation.
"Please. Let me out," she wailed as she slid to the floor, a image of herself staring up at her matching the one on the mirror she pounded on desperately.
The opening of the door was a shock, but a welcome one.
She leapt to her feet and tore from the room and straight into a pair of strong, comforting arms.
"It's okay," the deep voice crooned as he rocked her.
The door was slammed shut and she was lifted into a pair of muscular arms, her face buried in long, luxuriant hair.
"Craven…" she began, then paused she caught a whiff of the man who held her.
It was not her Craven, but as she looked up through the long red hair, she knew she was in the arms of Hate.
Chapter Fourteen
"Where is Craven?" she asked, her voice still shaky, but recovering. "And what was that place?"
"Craven is with Oberon," Hate said as he swiftly carried her from the hallway and into a—gasp and swoon—regular room.
There was a bed and everything.
No moving wall hangings, no haunted bathtubs, no mirrors scaring the hell out of her. A regular room painted a plain boring white with a simple four-posted bed.
"You will be comfortable in here," Hate continued as he set her on the bed and seemed to pluck a robe out of thin air.
Handing it to her, he continued, "And the room you were in is Craven's favorite haunt, the Mirror Room."
"If he enjoys that," Nola whispered, trembling as the memory of her disintegrating face crossed her mind's eye, "then maybe he brought me here to use and get rid of."
Shaking his head at his own folly, Hate sighed and took Nola's hand, and surprisingly, she let him.
"Nola, Craven can enter that room without any fear because he knows what's in his heart. He may be an unscrupulous bastard, but he has always been honest to a fault. That room holds no horror for him because he understands himself."
Wicked Wishes Page 7