by Danica Avet
I had to force myself to take those five steps to the back door. My hands fisted at my sides as the sudden coppery scent of blood filled the air accompanied by another scream. I grasped the door knob, twisting in a frantic rush. It opened, the knob falling off in my hand.
Weight on the other side of the wood threw the door into me. I fell back, ready to defend myself because my first thought was that the Host had surrounded the building. When I saw Sable was alone, I almost fell to my knees with relief.
She didn’t look like she shared my relief. Her hands, with claws out, latched onto my arms as she dragged me out of the building. The alley behind Phineas’s shop was thankfully empty at the moment, but the Host would figure out I’d gone out the back any minute now.
Sable looked at the shop, her brown eyes glittering. “Phineas?” she asked in her raspy voice.
I shook my head. I couldn’t even voice what I thought had happened to him. I wanted to turn around and go back for him, to fight my way through the Host, but I didn’t have my sword. It would’ve been kind of hard to hide it in my G-string at work.
Tears glittered in her eyes, but didn’t fall. Sable, like me, didn’t cry, but not because of a genetic mutation. She didn’t cry because she couldn’t afford to. A magical wind whistled down the alley, swirling around us and sending the dark auburn curls around her head dancing.
With a thick sounding thwup, her wings snapped out of her back. I’d never seen Sable’s wings before and for a moment I was almost lost to awe. They were gigantic, nearly twice the size of her body. Arching over her head in a thick waterfall of glossy, blue-black feathers, Sable’s wings were gorgeous.
“I have to back up to get momentum. When I grab you, just relax, okay?”
Staring at the reaper I outweighed by at least fifty pounds, I bit back a sarcastic reply. If she could get us out of here before the Host figured out where we were, I’d owe her my life. If she couldn’t lift my big ass off the ground, I’d send her away and face the Host myself. I might not be powerful magic wise and I might be weaponless, but I’ve got a set of lungs that would make Mariah Carey jealous.
“Remember, relax,” she whispered as she backed down the alley.
I nodded. She started running at me, her wings spread. They brushed the buildings on either side of the alley. A spray of sparks flew behind her. I didn’t understand that and tried not think about it. No, I concentrated on my new mantra.
Light as a feather.
Light as a feather.
I’m light as a feather.
I’m light as a feather.
Something snagged me around the waist hard enough to force the air from my lungs. In the next second, my feet left the ground as great wings on either side of me made deep whooshing sounds. More sparks flew, but we steadily gained altitude until I was looking down on St. Andrew Street. Sable circled around to the front of Phineas’s shop.
The storefront was completely black. Not with shadows, or soot, but with ooze. Several feet above the street, I could feel the evil coating the building, taking it over. My skin crawled at the howls and grunts as the Host feasted.
“Don’t look,” Sable ordered too late. “You can’t do anything for him.” Her grip tightened around my waist as she swooped away from the devastation. “Now tell me where we’re going and why the Host is after you.”
* * *
Chapter Seven
The trip to my apartment was filled with brittle cold air and curses as I explained my predicament to Sable. When she found out about the big, fat target on my back, I thought for sure she’d drop me on my head. I wouldn’t have blamed her. I was carting a whole shitload of trouble and anyone who came in contact with me would be coated in it.
When she landed on the fire escape outside my window, her wings retreating, she gave me a hard look. She didn’t have to tell me what she was thinking because it was on my mind as well. I was a lame duck in a game against powerful players. I had no magic of my own. She didn’t know about my skill with swords, but even that wouldn’t help against the Host. I was outnumbered and outmagicked.
I started to apologize for getting her involved, but the window of my apartment flew open. A big hand reached out, grabbed my arm, and jerked me into my home. I screeched, letting loose with the kind of banshee scream that could make ears bleed. It didn’t faze the big male shaking me like he wanted to rattle my brains right out of my head.
“You little fool!” Ryvan roared at me. His eyes sparked hotter than a flame. “Why did you run from me?”
“You must be the big, bad elf,” Sable said in a voice heavy with sarcasm.
Ryvan finally stopped shaking me. I fully expected him to thrust me away because of the trouble I’d caused, but he dragged me into his arms, holding me like he’d been truly scared for me. That’s when I realized he was trembling. Unable to help myself, I wrapped my arms around his waist and closed my eyes. After everything that had happened in the last three hours, he felt like an island of peace and security.
His big hands stroked up and down my back. His hot breath feathered my hair for long minutes. “I thought they got you,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
A lump formed in my throat. I wish I could have gone back to that moment I was safely ensconced in his lap at the club and redo the entire night. Maybe then Phineas wouldn’t be dead and Sable wouldn’t be caught in this mess with me. Gods, I’d fucked this entire situation up.
I pushed away from Ryvan. I couldn’t lean on him. I had to formulate a plan of action, some way to protect him and Sable from the horror stalking my every step.
“Sorry,” I mumbled to him, smoothing out the wrinkles I’d left in his shirt. “I…there’s no excuse for running like I did.” Tired of being a coward, I looked up at him, meeting his brilliant gaze head-on. “I didn’t believe you. I thought you were trying to trick me into going back so Melosia could finally kill me.”
A muscle bunched in his jaw and a white-hot flame sparked in his pupils, but he held his shit together. “I understand,” he replied in a short voice that suggested he still thought I was an idiot. “Don’t do it again.”
I nodded dumbly. A throat clearing nearby reminded me of Sable. I looked over to see her perched on my windowsill like a large bird of prey. Her wings were still out, hanging on the other side of the window as she balanced on the ledge.
“Ryvan, this is Sable Orlando. She’s a reaper,” I finished lamely. “She helped me get away from the Host.”
“Thank you,” he said with a very noble-looking nod in her direction. His head tilted to the side thoughtfully. “You’re the reaper who’s afraid of dead things.”
The way he stated it told me better than anything else that he’d stuck around the meeting the night before. I wanted to punch him for embarrassing Sable by mentioning her problem so boldly, but to my surprise she laughed.
“Yeah, that’d be me. I take it you’ve heard of me in Fairworld.” She buffed her nails on her shirt. “I’m a bit infamous over there.”
Ryvan smiled. “It’s been said your shrieks rivaled a banshee’s when you were in training.”
They shared a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest, my stomach twisting painfully. It was jealousy. When my mind should have been on survival plans and how I was going to use my rusty, not-so-bad-ass skills to protect myself, all I could think about was pushing Sable out the window. She knew Ryvan was supposed to be my consort. Unwanted or not, he was mine.
Mumbling something about packing in their general direction, I scurried to my room feeling like a third wheel. Sable was one of the last reapers which meant she was an innately powerful reaper, or she would be if she got over her fear of dead people. She had magic as well, different from Phineas whose magic was about potions and spells. Reapers doubled as necromancers, calling forth the dead. Reaper magic could pull the long dead from their eternal slumber. They could command entire armies of zombies whose sole purpose was to do whatever the necromancer demanded. It was crazy powerful stuff and
I couldn’t compare. If Ryvan wanted her, he could fucking have her.
Breeze leapt onto my bed with a questioning meow.
I scratched between his ears. “I know we have company.” I dropped my hand and fell to the ground to see under the bed. “One day I’m going to teach you how to check the peephole before you let anyone in my place,” I muttered as I reached for the long box I’d hidden there.
“Hiding under the bed will not make this situation go away,” Ryvan’s perplexed voice sounded somewhere behind me.
I rolled my eyes where he couldn’t see. “I’m not hiding, I’m getting something.”
I wiggled further under the bed straining to reach the box. Something big and hot landed on my calf, freezing me in place. My heart pounded as Ryvan’s fingers coasted up my leg, tickling the soft skin behind my knee. My skirt must’ve ridden up when I started wiggling because he didn’t have to touch the material until he reached my ass.
His fingers flirted with the edge of my very boring hi-cut briefs. My pussy fluttered as the magic of his touch worked on my libido. This was not the time. He was probably just making sure I hadn’t hurt myself when I was—
Two fingers dipped under the elastic leg of my panties and dove straight into my pussy. My head flew up, banging on the bed frame. I wasn’t injured there!
“Ryvan?” I squeaked the question, trying to ignore the erotic feel of his fingers inside me. I was already soaking wet for him because apparently danger made me horny.
I forgot about the box and gripped the nappy carpet. My panties were stretched to one side to give Ryvan better access to my body. I even spread my legs for him as much as I could. In and out he worked his fingers, the juices from my arousal aiding him as he thrust harder. I moaned, wiggling my ass back at him. I wanted more.
As though he read my mind, his fingers left me. He curled his hands around my legs and pulled me out from beneath the bed. Thank gods I was still wearing clothes otherwise I’d have gotten a bad case of carpet burn. Once my head cleared the bed, Ryvan hauled me up, propping my upper body against the mattress.
“Gods, Magda, I can’t stop this time,” he rasped against my ear. “I fucking thought I’d lost you.”
The entire time he spoke, his hands were busy tearing my panties off. I didn’t care about the loss. I hated those panties anyway. I think. Truth was my brain had gone on hiatus, leaving me a panting, writhing bundle of skin and nerves. He flipped my skirt up as he moved behind me.
“This ass is a work of art,” he rumbled seconds before his hot breath fanned across my skin.
He bit my right cheek making me jump. I fisted the comforter and reared back to look over my shoulder. There was something so decadent about seeing Ryvan’s face hovering over my bare ass, his flame-blue eyes glowing with arousal.
“Please,” I whimpered. I felt as horny as a fifteen-year-old on prom night.
His teeth flashed in his dark face, his fangs glinting in the overhead light. I vaguely noted he’d closed the bedroom door behind him. Thank gods. I wasn’t sure I was far gone enough not to care if Sable saw more than I wanted her to.
Ryvan straightened on his knees, his hand falling to his belt buckle. I twisted my upper body more so I could watch. I’d felt the size of him earlier, but I wanted to see what he had in store for me.
The damn man teased me as well—if not better—than the most skilled stripper. His belt was undone in a leisurely fashion, the leather dangling to tickle my ass. I shivered at the sensation. Slowly, like he had all the time in the world, he pulled the belt free of the loops, the long band of leather making a soft hissing sound as it was released.
When it was free, he looped it in one hand and stroked the tender cheeks of my ass with it. “I should spank you,” he said conversationally, his eyes on his hands. “When I saw you get on that stage tonight, I thought I’d lose my mind.” He smoothed one hand over my left cheek. “I saw your body, saw those other males wanting you and had to mark you as mine.” He followed the crease of my ass to the slick flesh below. “I imagined what I wanted to do to you and the next thing I knew, you were coming on that stage, the scent of your lust filling the room.”
My eyes widened. Had he somehow touched me while I was on that stage? Elves had different powers, maybe his was teleken—
He gently slapped the belt across my ass and I forgot about everything. I jumped from the unexpected touch before sinking back onto the bed, unable to hold the awkward position any longer. The cool leather kissed my skin before trailing away again. It didn’t hurt at all, didn’t even sting, but the threat was there. He gave another pass of the belt, this time leaving a faint tingle behind. My inner muscles clenched. My mouth was dry because it was wide open as I panted for breath. He caressed me with the leather sending shocks of pleasure through me.
I’d never given much thought to being spanked in an erotic situation because spanking used to mean punishment, or like now, an easy twenty bucks after Spanky got his half. Hell, this was punishment for nearly getting myself killed by the Host, but this was the kind of discipline I could live with. This was nothing like the beatings and “attitude adjustments” I’d been given by the queen or the heavy-handed slaps I got at the club.
The leather met my ass with a slightly harder slap and the sting shot straight to my clit. I gasped, shocked by the sensation of soft pain mingling with raging desire. He did it again, harder this time and I moaned. I wanted to shove the comforter in my mouth, moved my hand to do just that, but he stopped me.
“I want to hear you.”
My heart slammed harder than ever. I forced myself to keep my hands next to my head, though there was nothing I could do about the fists my fingers made. My palm ached, but I was so lost to pleasure, it flared and was gone in an instant. My whole body felt stretched tight, like I’d grown too big for my skin. Another slap of the belt, striking me with a loud snap made me groan, arousal soaking my channel and thighs.
“Don’t you ever,” he said with another slap on the opposite cheek, “ever put yourself in danger that way again.” The slaps of leather against my skin continued, punctuated by his snarled commands. “If the Host had found you there, you would’ve died, lost to me forever.”
With those words he hit me harder than ever and the bright pain arched my entire body. His other hand delved between my legs. One stroke of his finger across my clit and I convulsed, the muscles along my channel clenching hard and fast. I cried out, not sure what I said, if I even formed coherent sentences. It didn’t matter. He spanked me again and again, each slap of the belt sending burning pleasure through me and throwing me into another orgasm.
I flew higher than Sable’s wings could carry her. I soared through the stratosphere into outer space, floating on a cosmic wave of pleasure so powerful I knew I’d never be the same again. Here there was nothing that could hurt me, nothing to worry me. No tribes, no murderous queens, no assassins out for my blood. Here there was nothing but peace and Ryvan. But like all trips to Heaven, Hell, or anywhere in between, I came back to Earth, back to the misery and uncertainty of my life.
When I regained consciousness, I was still draped across the bed, still had my skirt flipped up. My ass burned, but soothing hands stroked my skin, easing the heat in my cheeks. I trembled, more sated and relaxed than I’d ever been before. It was similar to how I felt after a good training session, like my mind and body were finally in sync.
“Are you okay?” His voice was gruff, deeper than ever, and sent a trill of renewed pleasure coursing through me.
I cleared my throat, swallowed a couple of times trying to produce saliva for my desperately dry mouth. Finally, I husked, “Yes, I’m fine.” Another shudder worked through me. I was so not all right. He’d shaken the foundations of my world. I never knew I could experience pleasure when it was supposed to be pain. “Thank you,” I finished stupidly.
“Good.” I heard the rasp of a zipper and clothing being removed. Seconds later, his big hands settled on my hips again. “
Now I’ll bring you pleasure.”
* * *
Chapter Eight
“Wha—”
My shocked words were cut off with the slam of his cock inside me. I squeaked, my hands scrambling for the comforter. I didn’t know if I was trying to hold myself in place or pull myself away from him. He was huge. I’d known it, but oh gods, I wasn’t prepared for someone his size. It’d been years since—
Something was different. Well, other than his size and the fact that he wasn’t moving, I could feel him more than any other lover I’d had. It wasn’t just that he was a part of my body now, but I could feel his essence, his power seep into me. My heart pounded with fear and uncertainty. I didn’t understand what this meant, yet I knew it wasn’t exactly normal.
He still didn’t move. He stayed locked inside me, his tight grip on my hips holding me in place. I had been very wet, downright soaked if I were being honest. He hadn’t hurt me, but the shock of his sudden invasion rippled through me. And he didn’t twitch a muscle as I adjusted around him.
He filled every hollow space inside me. Or at least that’s what it seemed like. He was thick and long, hitting me deeper than any lover I’d ever had before. I felt full of him, like he was reaching for a part of me I’d never given to anyone. I wondered if he felt the same tingle of awareness, of absolute intimacy I did.
Then his hands moved, caressing my hips, his thumbs brushing my reddened ass in slow, silken circles. “You feel so good,” he said with a purr. I swear I felt his voice vibrate through his cock into my body. I quaked around him. “The minute I saw you I knew you’d feel like this, all tight, hot, and wet.”