“Get your hands off me.” Candy’s face instantly flushed. She strained to move away, not wanting him to feel the heat that suffused her suddenly engorged cunt. She squirmed as need rushed through her body like a tempest.
Dammit. This was the last thing she wanted to feel. She’d always been able to keep herself aloof as men made fools of themselves attempting to seduce her. What set Enlil apart? She wanted to flip him over and attack every naked part of him with her tongue and teeth. The lust hit her as feral, deeply seated in her gut, and she fought against it.
“Let me up,” she told him, as bitingly as possible. “I don’t need this.” She squirmed again, and only managed to rub harder against his palm. Fuck. Her pussy wept so much she’d need a mop to clean up. Why did the asshole appeal to her like this?
“That’s not what your breasts are saying.”
Dammit. Enlil had that right. Maintaining his one-handed hold on her wrists, and with another cuddling to her crotch, he lowered his head and positioned his teeth to nip at one jutting nipple that clearly protruded through the thin material of her shirt.
Candy yelped in response.
“Nope. Not the noise I wanted,” he said laughingly, raising his head. “Guess I’ll have to try again.”
“Enlil, cut the crap.” Candy grew more furious and more aroused with every passing second. “I hate you, remember, and you can’t stand me.” She spluttered.
He lowered to her second begging nipple―fucking betraying body part―and Candy became frantic, dragging her brain for a way to make him stop. “Don’t forget, I was going to do you and Shamash at the same time last night.” She tamped down the arousal that threatened to derail her. “I’m a slut, remember? You said it yourself.”
Enlil looked down at the spitting kitten he held, and admitted his error to himself. Candy hadn’t been interested in Shamash. She’d just been really good at manipulating the situation to gain the upper hand. He’d made a mistake. One he wouldn’t make again. The obvious avenue to claiming her as his Chosen became quite clear now. He had to take total control.
In his previous encounters with Candy, she’d managed to keep him on the defensive. Now the shoe was on the other foot. She lay here at his mercy, acting a lot less cocky. And he liked it.
Enlil shifted his hand from the V of her legs to the fastening of her pants, which gave way easily to his skilled fingers. But when he let go of her hands, she rushed at his face with her little, sharp nails.
He reared up, avoiding her and at the same time held her hips firmly, wiggling her jeans down her legs as she rocked back and forth trying to unseat him.
“No, Enlil. Stop.” A sob of what sounded like fear came deep from her throat.
Enlil stilled. What the hell? What was with the mixed signals? He had no doubt she wanted him. He could get scorched by the heat generated by her pussy. And hell, she’d sucked his cock like it was filled with ambrosia not twenty-four hours ago. But now something was out of whack. Candy seemed spooked. Reluctant. And he didn’t think it was an act. Dammit. He’d never forced himself upon a woman before, and as much as he desired the body of the female beneath him, now didn’t seem like the time to start.
“Do you truly wish me to stop, Candy?” Enlil stilled his hands and leaned over, all seriousness now. He looked deep into her eyes. His blond braids hung down around them, cocooning their faces.
She couldn’t hide her raw desire, and he thought he had his answer, but he’d give her time to think it through. Candy groaned and swallowed hard.
“I don’t want you to,” she began, in a very small voice unlike her norm. “But I don’t think…”
She didn’t have to continue.
“I get it,” Enlil blew out a disgusted breath. He briefly touched his forehead to hers, his prick deflating rapidly. “You’re not the first woman who’s wanted nothing to do with my size.”
That had to be the reason for her about-face. Candy didn’t want to fuck him because he might lose control and morph into his bull. He’d been close last time, and had presented her with the biggest cock she’d probably ever seen. But viewing him in his agitated glory last night, she hadn’t freaked out. She’d used her mouth to…oh hell. Had he gotten it all wrong? The blowjob, which he thought had been from her heart, must have been merely a desperate, diversionary tactic to distract him from full-blown extra-large, cock-on-cunt penetration. And he’d fallen for it. Duped by the savvy agent once again.
With the sharpness of rejection piercing his chest, Enlil tried to assure her that he could maintain god-body control if they did the deed.
“Listen. You don’t have to worry about my bull. I can keep him at bay.” Enlil closed his eyes, hoping to hide his frustration from her. It sucked. His enjoyment of sex would be tepid, at best, without at least giving in to as much change as he’d had last night. “If I hold back, which I will,” he promised her, “I’m no more generous in the cock department than a well-built human.”
He was disappointed, yes. But―Enlil reminded himself―when everything was said and done, the important thing was to get this mating thing done and to light up. That way he’d at last be totally free from the curse of invisibility. That’s what sex with Candy had to mean. Total freedom and his whole god-like life back. He could do a mediocre fuck for those bennies.
Candy’s body relaxed beneath him, and he knew he must have guessed correctly when she encircled his neck with her arms. Arching her pelvis upward, she drew him back down.
Enlil grew hard again, and it wasn’t bad in the least. Perhaps she’d accept him in god-form, and they’d just get this over with.
She kissed her way from his jaw to his ear, and whispered seductively in his ear. “I’d love to use my mouth on you again. You enjoyed it last time.”
Enlil’s whole body stiffened.
“Nope.” He spun away, plunking his ass down on the mattress, next to hers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Enlil couldn’t believe it. Candy had attempted it again. Trying to distract him with the promise of oral sex. The bottom line was clear. She didn’t trust him to maintain his smaller dimensions. And that was his own fucking fault. He’d gone off into his pre-bull persona damned quickly last time they’d been in bed. He needed to prove to her that a bovine outcome wasn’t always a given. “No blowjob,” he groused. “But I also won’t fuck you.”
He felt the relief move through her, and she attempted to roll away, but he grabbed her, pulling her up short. “Nope. I’m going to pleasure you in another way altogether,” he rasped.
Candy’s jeans were already around her knees, and it didn’t take Enlil another second to reach down and whisk them completely off her legs. He secured her back on the mattress with one leg slung over her silky thighs. She swore and beat at him with her hands, but he ignored her pleas and placed his palm against the silky material of her panties where it lay over her hot crotch. Candy’s pummeling fists stilled. She arched up into his hand.
“You like that,” Enlil grunted, quelling his disappointment that he wouldn’t be fucking her, but having his desire ramp up again as he anticipated the taste of her wet pussy on his tongue.
Candy swallowed hard and nodded, but no sweet words passed her lips. Instead, her violet eyes glared at him, sending unspoken accusations his way. Screw that. If he couldn’t bury his cock deep inside her, he’d damned well enjoy the tang of her savory cunt. And she’d beg for it.
“Tell me to lick you,” he demanded of her.
She shook her head, mutely.
He ripped the remaining, interfering material and tossed it aside, then used his thumb to move gently through her sopping wet folds. Her scent grew heady.
“Candy, tell me to put my tongue on you.” His voice had become a growl, and with a sigh she opened to him, slick and ready, her cunt swollen with need. She made small cries deep in her throat as he tested and teased his fingers around her clit, wanting to hear her capitulate, but she refused to give in. Stubborn woman.
Enlil would torment her until she sai
d the words he wanted to hear. The feel of her juices was enough to keep him enthralled for a good long time. Keeping his fingers pressed to her pussy, he moved to insinuate his knee between her legs and scissored her thighs farther apart.
Hah. Did she grab for his hand when it momentarily slid away? Enlil chuckled to himself. He wasn’t going anywhere. He simply wanted unimpeded access to her clit, and as he flicked at the distended nub again, he felt her capitulation.
“Okay,” Candy’s voice caught, layered with equal parts pissed-off and desire. Enlil almost crowed that she was about to cave in, but he needed to hear it.
Finally, after a minute-long internal struggle, Candy gave him the green light. “Fine. Don’t leave. I want you.” She looked daggers at his smug face.
“What do you want, Candy?” He continued to torment her as he ran his thumb over her needy clit. “Say it.”
“God dammit, you prick,” she swore. “Taste me, Enlil. You asshole. I hate your fucking guts.”
That was enough for him. He dropped down and wedged his shoulders between her legs, gazing long and hard at her weeping pussy, brushing the backs of his fingers across her well-trimmed bush. He relished the flush that bloomed across her tawny belly. Her nether lips glistened beckoningly, and he breathed slowly to keep his bull-self from emerging. If he let the beast out now, he’d lose control, fuck her, and screw her head up but good. There’d be none of that.
Enlil spread her pussy lips, noting the quiver that ran through her small frame as he did. The softness of her curves, surrounded by the strength of muscle that corded her stomach, arms, and legs, acted as a heady combination, and before lowering his mouth for his first taste, he bent her knees up and back to the sides, spreading her wide open. She gasped in surprise and tried to move, but he held her captive.
“I need to see every bit of you, my little spitfire,” he ordered gruffly. “Don’t fight.” This was good. Candy vulnerable beneath him. Completely at his mercy, begging him. And he would have her begging.
“Tell me again, Candy. What is it you want?” He blew a gentle wind over her exposed parts and enjoyed her shiver. She squirmed, beyond articulating. He helped her out. “Do you want me to stick my tongue in your pussy?” he taunted. “Lick your clit until you ache for me?”
“Yes, God damn you. Yes.” Candy sobbed. Clearly, she’d gone beyond caring about her pride. “Touch me, Enlil. Just fucking touch me, right now.”
He didn’t make her wait any longer. He dipped his head to her waiting pussy and ran his tongue the length of her slit. She screamed and tried to move her legs, but he kept her spread and helpless. His lips found the nub that lay bare to him, and he sucked it purposefully into his mouth. As he stroked the small protrusion mercilessly with his lips, he reveled in the taste of her, heady like wine, washing over the back of his tongue.
He’d known she would taste sweet, but he hadn’t known how sweet. He growled, and almost lost his grip. The bull in him roared to be released. Enlil gave him partial substance, knowing Candy would enjoy the thickening and roughening of his tongue, but forced the rest of his bovine self back, his attention riveted to the tender deed before him that demanded complete control.
With her clit hard and engorged, Enlil drew back and plunged his tongue deeper up inside her. Candy let out a scream and her hands came down on his head to press him closer. She managed to wrench her legs out of his grip, and crushed his head between her toned thighs.
She raised up into him, her nails digging into his scalp. “Oh shit, Enlil. I’m coming,” she shrieked.
He could feel her inner muscles contracting on his sensitive tongue, and continued his assault, full of wonder at how quickly she responded, and nearly brayed with delight as her essence poured down his throat. Was this the Chosen bond, or simply because he’d teased her for what seemed like fucking forever before making her his meal?
Enlil didn’t have time to overthink. Candy keened and fell apart under his ministrations, panting his name as the walls of her pussy spasmed to his touch and quivered endlessly. He continued to thrust until her inner quakes subsided.
Her body dropped limply in his hands, and Enlil dared to look up at her face. Tears flooded her eyes. That either boded well or poorly. Candy had blown apart like a supernova. Hell, she still shuddered with aftershocks as Enlil continued to lightly lap and soothe her swollen flesh. She didn’t draw away, so he reasoned her reaction had been positive, even though her tears fell like rain.
Enlil couldn’t help being a little smug as he lay between her thighs. He’d done his woman well. What? Enlil stilled. Had he just designated Candy, “his woman?” He dared peek at his shoulder and scowled. Nope. No sign of the red liberator yet, but he did notice that Candy continued to shake, a circumstance a tad disconcerting. He leveraged himself up. Where was her comfortable, human afterglow?
“Did I hurt you?” he worried aloud.
Doubt hit him hard as she continued crying. Enlil forced himself upward and gathered her into his arms, pressing her hard against his naked chest. His cock subsided as he rocked her, feeling the sobs rack her body.
Candy shook her spiky little head against him, and after a few minutes, turned up her tear-drenched face. If he didn’t know better―and he hadn’t just given her a stupendous orgasm―he’d say her face reflected an urge to kill him.
Sure enough, when she spoke, no tender endearments tripped from her lips. “I fucking hate you.”
Enlil sighed. The only positive? Even with her proclamation, Candy hadn’t budged from his arms.
Chapter Nine
Damn. What was that noise? Enlil opened one eye a crack and realized Candy’s phone buzzed next to his head. He wanted to ignore it. The slight weight nestled into the left side of his body told him he and Candy had fallen asleep. Odd having her near without her spitting nails. He extended one hand toward the phone. He needed to answer because Candy continued to snuggle obliviously.
He fumbled with the receiver. “Hello,” he mumbled, his lips nearly glued together from sleep. There was dead silence for ten full seconds, until…
“Who is this?” a woman’s voice demanded.
“Who’s this?” Enlil managed back, his voice thick from slumber.
Another pause. “Perdon. I must have called the wrong number. I look for mi hija.” The caller didn’t hang up, and Enlil felt like an answer was expected.
“Mi what?” He yawned and stifled the urge to stretch.
“My daughter. Candy.” The woman’s voice sounded suspicious. Enlil’s eyes popped wide open.
“Umm…you have the right number.” He swallowed convulsively. He had very little―read, zero―experience with mothers. And by the sound of her, this one happened to be where Candy got her attitude.
“So then?”
Frustration and anger? Enlil wondered, but remained silent.
“Where is mi chiquita?” Now the voice turned demanding.
Enlil blurted out the truth. “She’s sleeping.” He had no idea what else to say.
“With you?” The voice rose an octave and Enlil took that as a bad sign. He looked down at Candy’s partially naked body, clad only in a T-shirt that pressed back against him.
“Umm…yes.”
“Madre de Dios.”
Enlil yanked the phone back from his ear as Candy’s mother spit out the curse, plus an even longer litany of Spanish he couldn’t decipher. His body stiffened. Either he or Candy were being roundly blasphemed. English finally prevailed.
“Put her on the phone, sinvergüenza.” Enlil gulped. He’d clearly been given an order.
He gently shook Candy’s shoulder.
She snorted. “You deal with her.”
Oh. Candy was awake, huh? She yawned and turned over. “You’re doing just fine.” She patted his thigh and his mind snapped back to his awkward position, sandwiched―somewhat―between two volatile women. The half-naked Candy gave a snicker. “You know she just called you a scoundrel.”
“Wha…” Enl
il’s head started to pound.
“Tell her I heard that,” Candy’s mother yelled over the line. “I know she’s awake and I want to know who she’s got in her bed.”
Candy rolled to her stomach, giving Enlil a glimpse of her pert bottom where it peeked out from beneath the hem of her shirt. She clearly had no intention of rescuing him from the phone call. And to make matters worse, gazing at her fine, smooth ass rendered him totally tongue tied for any words that would soothe her mother.
“My name is Enlil, and…”
“Enlil? That doesn’t sound like a Latino name.”
“No, ma’am.” The wind god sunk down, spiraling deeper and deeper into unknown territory. “I’m actually from…the Middle East.”
“Aye, Dios mio,” Candy’s mother exclaimed, before she loudly set the phone down and began a rant. Enlil scowled. She was making him feel inadequate. He hated inadequate. What fucked up shit came with the women in this family?
“Ma’am? Ma’am.” Enlil covered the mouthpiece, then stretched a big hand over and slapped the behind that taunted him. “What’s your mother’s name?”
“Jovana,” she grumbled, rubbing the offended body part, “and keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
Enlil perked up. “Did you know Jovana’s a derivation of the Roman god’s name who was father of the sky? Perhaps I should call Anshar to calm her down. After all, he’s the whole sky god at the compound.”
Candy snorted. “Nobody’s calming her down.” Her voice became muffled in the pillow. “She’s on a roll. Plus, Anshar would find a way to make it worse.”
Candy squeaked as Enlil tugged her shirt up higher to have another look. She pulled it back down and wiggled away. “I said no touching.”
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