As he strode over the rocky shoreline, listening to the sound of surf crashing against land, Branimir felt relaxed. In fact, he was nearly giddy. The mantle of leadership temporarily removed, Branimir could be himself and indulge his senses, himself, here. He liked the island very much. It was peaceful and quiet without making him feel lonely, as he did so often at court.
A low, throaty scream broke into his comfortable ruminations. So much for quiet, he thought and smiled. The odd tone of the cry, though, raised his curiosity. So, he stilled, listening for another cry. As if on cue, it came again, the sound ricocheting off the craggy cliffs behind him, obscuring its source. Something in the resonance made the hair on his neck rise. Branimir dropped his human shape, body reforming, changing, in the blink of an eye.
Enormous golden wings burst from his back. A serpentine tail, barbed with sharp spikes, and massive leonine hindquarters took the place of human legs. His arms and hands became the heavy lower limbs, complete with mammoth, razor-sharp talons of an eagle. What had been a strong, masculine face became a raptor’s, a large curved beak flashing obsidian in the sun’s light, and his ears stood tall and equine above his head. Feathers, fur, and iridescent scales rippled across his delicate human skin, completing the transformation. Branimir gave a predatory cry and launched into the skies, searching the ground with eyes keen enough to see a mouse in grass from a mile into the heavens, and began the search for the being that’d given the furious call.
* * *
“Yes! Yes! Oh, gods!” The thick cock slipped through the slick lips of her sex, pounding its way deep into her blazing cunt. Faster, harder, deeper it took her up and up, so close to the brilliant culmination hovering just out of her reach. Okibi took one pert nipple between her thumb and forefinger, twisting the swollen bud savagely. Her body exploded, the orgasm ripping through her. Her cunt clasped the thick cock deep inside, each low hum from her inanimate lover sending strong aftershocks skittering over her skin and pulling a loud scream from her mouth.
She lay there exhausted, the release flooding her body with endorphins, and realized she wasn’t satisfied. Okibi growled and screamed again, this time in frustration. Slipping the vibrating dildo from her body, she fought the need to roll over and cry. Okibi slid from the bed, grabbing up the deep ruby red kimono from the footboard. She slipped her arms into the lightweight silk, so wrapped up in her own misery, she missed the telltale bell chime of her security sensors.
“Why did I ignore my mother’s good advice? She told me to keep a lover so I could control the need. I shouldn’t have blown her off!” Okibi grabbed a fistful of her hair in irritation.
The cry of a bird of prey, merged with the distinct roar of a lion, tore through the air. Okibi jerked around, her body alert, readying for a possible attack. Her heart was thumping so hard she could barely think straight. She stumbled into the center of her home, looking up through the enchanted opening in her roof. High above, sunlight glinted off golden feathers, and Okibi gasped. Branimir was coming.
She shrugged the kimono off her shoulders, not worried about burning the delicate silk, since everything she owned was adapted to her pyrokinetic nature. Magical protection against fire, though, wouldn’t save the material from being shredded when two massive wings burst from her skin. Inhaling deep, Okibi closed her eyes and embraced the flame that lived, breathed, and danced in her soul.
Chapter 4
Branimir, in griffon form, dove from the clouds, his body plummeting toward the house set amidst the forest below. As he neared the home, slowing his wing beats and preparing to land, Okibi’s scent enveloped him, rising on the breeze to thicken his cock and dry his mouth.
Branimir’s beastly form shuddered with intense and immediate arousal. He landed and shook himself, much like a wet dog would once it was out of the bath. His wings melted away, as did the fur and feathers and scales, the claws and talons, until he stood gloriously naked in the doorway of the phoenix’s house.
“You aren’t welcome, Griffon.”
Branimir hesitated in the doorway, both because Okibi was nude and because, well, she was ablaze. “My name is Branimir. You can call me Bran, if you like.” Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and entered.
She was perfect, every bare inch of her. Blue and white flames licked across her hairless body, the fire shivering with each heaving breath she took. Her breasts were tipped with nipples the color of hot embers; so different from any other woman’s he’d seen. Branimir fought the overwhelming urge to see if they’d burn his mouth, his hands, if he touched the rock hard nubs.
Her obsidian eyes glowed from her face, a faint reddish hue gleaming from deep within them. Those lush lips parted, her mouth shiny from the sweep of pink tongue across dry flesh. Branimir clenched his fists to stop himself from touching her. The flame of her need, her anger, didn’t hurt her. Branimir knew he wouldn’t be as lucky. Not yet, anyway.
His head buzzed from the effect of her pheromones as he slowly stalked toward her. The only place she wasn’t burning was her head, but it shone with sweat. Sweat, which matted her short hair to her scalp. Okibi’s body shook, making her fiery attire dance. At first he thought anger shuddered her body, but underneath the alluring scent of her heat, Branimir detected the delicious flavor of Okibi’s musk. Arousal made her limbs weak, and armed with that knowledge, against his better judgment, he reached for her.
Bzzzt, kerthunk!
“What the hell?” The strange noise whipped Branimir’s head to the side. His ears honed in on the soft humming sound, his sharp eyes scanning the room. His mouth turned up at the corners and he raised a brow. So, his little firebird knew how to take care of herself, did she? “Well, look at that.”
Branimir dropped his arms to his sides, and stepped away from Okibi, striding toward the dildo. It had landed on the floor just in front of the little bedside table. Bending over, he picked it up and lifted it to his face, inhaling deeply, locking the aroma of her lust into his lungs. Branimir turned the dildo over in his hand, found the switch to turn it off, and turned to face her again.
Her eyes were wide, her pale skin flushed, her mouth frozen in a tiny “o”. Branimir smiled and looked past her, searching for and finding a sink behind her. He walked to it, ignoring the gasping sound she made as he passed her, and proceeded to wash her toy.
Branimir looked down at the fake cock in his hands. He bit his lip to stifle a moan, images of Viktor’s cock in his hand sending blood rushing to the rail spike between his legs. As the soft plastic slid through the soapsuds on his fingers, he thought about his beloved and Okibi. He imagined watching Viktor’s thick cock slide between the slick flesh of her sex, while Branimir wrapped his tongue and lips around her straining clit. The thoughts were so vivid he could taste her lust on his lips and feel the hot steel of Viktor against his face. He groaned softly.
Branimir didn’t want to lose Viktor, but he knew he’d have Okibi. They were too attracted not to have sex. Taking her was one thing, mating with her another. Phoenixes were monogamous.
A voice in his head told him this woman was his queen. He hoped the voice knew something he didn’t. Hoped the resonance of instinct saw something in Okibi that said she wasn’t interested in a single partner, not simply because the thought of her luscious form pinned between Viktor and himself made Branimir’s head spin, but because he sensed something within her he knew would match his lover flawlessly.
“Excuse me.” Okibi cleared her throat, but the husky quality remained. “I don’t think I need your help caring for my toys. I want you to leave. And stay the hell away from me.”
“Oh, you need my help, phoenix. And I’m more than ready to give it.” Branimir turned the water off, shaking the excess from the false phallus, and setting aside his worries. He turned from the sink and walked back to her. His cock bobbed proudly, and he watched with satisfaction as Okibi’s gaze focused on him. She shook her head slightly and tried to close her eyes, but it appeared his erection bespelled her.
He stopped in front of her, the heat of her body making his tingle. The tiny flames fascinated him. Branimir stepped closer to her, and slid his eyes to half-mast as the fire of her need reached for him. She raised her face to his, her black eyes defiant and proud, almost hiding her fear.
“I asked you to leave.” Her tone was throaty, low. The threat of violence under her words was unmistakable. Thanks to Viktor, Branimir had learned all he could about Okibi’s race. He didn’t delude himself that he knew everything, but he was better informed than most.
Her Kokugen Nenshou was wildly strong. Sweat shone on her face. The dampness of her short, black hair, the sexual frustration he could almost see rolling off of her, the strength of her scent, gave Branimir a light bulb moment. Okibi hadn’t succumbed to her Burning Time in at least two cycles, probably three.
Something else Viktor told him surfaced from the depths of his memory. It isn’t just sex, Bran. A female phoenix will only mate with a male who can best her in combat and survive her fire. She may take a lover at any time, but a mate must be the strongest, most intelligent male among her suitors. Basically, it was fight or fuck Okibi at this point, and while Branimir would prefer the latter, he wanted the former as well. He wanted to see what kind of a warrior she was.
“How long has it been since you’ve been fucked, Okibi? Forty years? Sixty? Your need is palpable. I can taste your hunger on my tongue. I see it in the shivering of your body. We can fight first, if you want, but we will fuck. You know it and I know it.”
His cock twitched as her eyes narrowed. The fire flared to life, singeing his skin. Instinct moved his body backward. Okibi used the space to move away from Branimir. Closing her eyes, she doused the flames, and pulled a scrap of red silk from the floor. Her arms slid into the kimono and she savagely tied the belt.
“You’re right. We probably will fuck. But it will be on my terms, when I want. I don’t like you, I don’t want you here, and I’m not looking to settle down.”
Branimir licked his lips. Though she was covered, her appeal was no less. He put every bit of desire, of predatory dominance, into his eyes as he met her gaze.
“We’ll see about that.”
Chapter 5
Okibi seethed. What an arrogant ass! “We’ll see about that.” She snorted and turned her back on him, saying without words that he posed her no threat.
“Look, I don’t know you. I only know the basics about your race. I don’t know how much clearer I can be. I do not want to pair up with you and raise a clutch of hybrid kidlets.” Okibi’s body clenched as she said the words, but her mind rebuked it. Her life was protecting Rookery Cove. It was integral to her being, the need to guard and defend those in her keeping.
The Rowe family was one of the most well-known and ancient families of the phoenix nation. She was the last of the line, the only offspring in the Rowe family to make it to adulthood. Both of her father’s brothers had mated with humans, and while her cousins were remarkably gifted beings, none of them were phoenixes. So that left Okibi as the only child to carry on, if not the name, the legacy and power of the Rowe line. She knew her parents loved her more than anything, but they also pressured her constantly to reproduce.
Okibi, dearest, the island can find someone to replace you. Her mother’s crisp voice echoed in her mind. Okibi huffed loudly and made her way to the small kitchen, lost in her thoughts and ignoring her visitor.
“Yeah, sure, Mom. I’ll go ahead and forget all the years you regaled me with the tales of my ancestors. I’ll just tell Manx that, hey, I need to go continue the bloodline. No one will mind if I’m an oath-breaker.” She growled the words low, unconsciously speaking out loud. Her frustration and anger pushed aside her base needs, though a small part of her brain worried a few moments were all the reprieve she’d get.
She paced the kitchen, bickering with herself, and only remembered Branimir when she smacked into the solid wall of his chest.
“Damn! Don’t do that! Gods, give me some space, will you!” She stepped back from him, but it was too late. She’d already recognized his power, his masculinity and his viability as a good mate. Well, the phoenix in her realized this. The woman in her wanted more.
She looked into eyes of fire orange and saw desire there. And Okibi knew at least part of that hunger had nothing to do with her heritage and everything to do with her femininity. Need blossomed, hot and strong, in her belly.
“I apologize. It seems like I do that a lot around you.” Branimir gave a self-deprecating chuckle and took a couple of steps back himself. She gave his cock a pointed look. It was hard not to notice its solid, straining length. He sighed.
“Do you have something I can cover up with?” Okibi nodded and moved to a drawer beside the sink. She pulled out an apron and handed it to him. He slipped it over his head and tied it around his waist. She couldn’t stop a small giggle from escaping her lips as she read the words across the chest of it.
“Charcoal briquette anyone?” was printed in white letters, blue flames dancing around each character. It had been a birthday gift from Baen, the ecological guardian of the waters around Rookery Cove. Fitting, since the last time she’d attempted to cook over an open flame, he’d had to come put out the fire and her meal had indeed been charred beyond edibility. The apron also featured a picture below the words of a man standing in front of a blazing barbeque, a bag of charcoal in one hand and a plate of burnt meat in the other. Branimir looked down and shook his head, chuckling softly.
“Nice. I prefer my food a bit less done. I guess this means you don’t cook?” He raised one thick eyebrow at her and Okibi snorted.
“Only as a last resort.” She sighed inwardly. The attraction between them snapped and sparked, but he wasn’t pushing. It was hard to stay angry with him when he was being so charming. And considerate. They both knew he could have pressed his advantage, Okibi couldn’t argue he had one, and fucked her into oblivion. She didn’t trust him, but his choice to back off definitely earned him brownie points.
“Can we start over? Well, okay, so we can’t pretend I’m not hot for you --” he gestured to the tenting apron, “-- but I want to get to know you, Okibi. I’d like to let you get to know me.”
His voice caressed her in places she hadn’t been touched in too long. It was warm, open, and oh so masculine. She shivered in response, and gave him an honest look. She knew her eyes spoke of her wariness, of her ever-present lust, but she was also curious.
“I thought you wanted to fuck, griffon. Trying a different tactic?” She expected him to get angry, but instead he laughed, his orange eyes sparkling with mirth.
“I do and no. But I understand the compulsion you just spoke of to keep your oath and protect this island.”
Okibi stifled a groan, embarrassed her ranting had been aloud. “Really.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her tone, but her curiosity was piqued. Plus, focusing on his words, instead of his body, helped keep the throbbing between her legs at a tolerable level. She moved to the small dinette and pulled out a chair. Sitting down, she motioned for him to join her.
Branimir pulled out the seat opposite hers and sat down, finally concealing his erection. “Well, to condense a hundred thousand years of history, griffons are an interesting race.”
“And?”
Branimir kept his explanation succinct, covering what made him different, how he’d become king.
Okibi nodded, honestly interested. “So why haven’t you paired up yet?”
Branimir paused, mulling something silently. She felt frustration churning through him. “I need a mate who wants to protect my people, to see them thrive, as much as I do. As much as I have to.”
“And love? Does that play a part in your choice? And why me, specifically?” Okibi watched his face as she said “love.” His fiery eyes softened and grew a little unfocused. “You already love someone, don’t you?”
The peacefulness of the situation fled as Okibi’s anger rose. “How dare you! What do you thi
nk I am, an heir making machine? That I’ll be content to bear young and be mate in name only?” She growled the words and jumped from her chair. Branimir stood just as quickly, his large, calloused hand flashing out to grip her upper arm.
“It’s not what you think, Okibi. If you’ll let me explain --”
“I don’t want excuses, griffon.” She jerked her arm from his grasp and moved to the middle of her home. She looked up at the sky through her open roof.
A light rain had begun to fall. The tiny droplets collected on her sheltering spell. They looked to be suspended in mid-drop, the magic keeping her home dry merely stilling them in the descent. She took a deep breath and dropped her robe. I should have known he wouldn’t be here for me. He’s here for what I can do for him.
“Okibi, wait. Please, listen to me. Yes, I’ve loved, am in love with someone else. But that person can’t give me children.” She turned to look at him, the truth of his words reflected upon his features.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Branimir. But I won’t be used. Not by my parents, not by Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs, and not by you.” Hoping to burn off her anger and disappointment, Okibi slowly started the process of shifting shape. She called the flame of rebirth, watching as blue fire danced along her skin until her body was engulfed. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, savoring the heat, the burning sensation growing inside her body.
The inferno swallowed her flesh. Her human skin blackened and turned to ash, but since the flames were more metaphysical than true there was no pain or horrible smell. Okibi cried out, the phoenix song rising through her body, its magical sound both haunting and compelling. Power coalesced and Okibi’s energy folded inward, condensing into a tiny prick of magic.
From far away she heard Branimir’s voice. “My lover isn’t barren, Okibi!” A flit of confusion nagged her brain, as if she was missing something, but Okibi ignored it. When her magic had become a tight, hot pinpoint of energy, she released it outward. Her shape exploded in a blast of flames, the phoenix rising from the floor of the house and into the sky in a shower of sparks and ashen rain.
Rookery Cove: The Keythong’s Blaze Page 2