Wicked Whispers

by Nina Bangs

  He wanted to go in and join her. Feel the hot water flowing down his back. Watch the drops sliding over her body. Then he’d smooth his fingers across her gleaming skin and… Murmur took a deep breath. He hoped she didn’t spend much time in there.

  About three years later, she came out of the bathroom. She brought with her the scent of whatever soap she’d used—something subtly sensual—and the moist heat of the shower. Her nightgown was silky and pink. It didn’t cling to her, but it had its own sexy ripple as she moved.

  She climbed into bed beside him and pulled the sheet up to her chin. “You can have the shower now.”

  Murmur didn’t say anything, just got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He closed the door softly behind him.

  Ivy mulled over her choices. She could leave the nightgown on, but then one of them would have to remove it. Pleasure interruptus. She could take it off now and wait for him naked. Would he think she was too eager? She smiled. Oh, what the hell. She stripped off the nightgown and dropped it beside the bed. Ivy didn’t think there was such a thing as too eager when it came to how she felt about him.

  She reached over to turn off her bedside light and noticed Whimsy. The plant looked a little droopy. “Feeling neglected, sweetie? Well, you get to do your thing tonight. I want only happy, sexy vibes floating around here.” Ivy glanced across the bed. The lamp on Murmur’s side was still lit. “The better to see you with,” she whispered.

  Ivy tensed as he turned off the shower. She waited… He opened the door and stepped into the room.

  He was nude. And he was so beautiful it brought tears to her eyes. As he walked across the room to her bed, shadow and light played across the hard planes of his chest and his ridged stomach and curled around his sex. The shadows gave added definition to his muscular thighs as he moved.

  Once he reached his side of the bed, he turned for a moment to fling his clothes across a chair. She sucked in her breath. His back was strong and smooth and tapered down to his waist, which drew her eyes down, down, down to the most perfect butt cheeks she’d ever seen. Tight and male, and she couldn’t wait to—

  He interrupted her thoughts of exactly what she’d do by grabbing the sheet and yanking it off her.

  She gasped, but controlled her first instinct to cover herself. She met his gaze.

  His eyes glowed red, and she understood what that meant now. He lay down and rolled onto his side. Then he slid his gaze the length of her body.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman in or out of the mortal world to me.”

  His voice was soft and laced with so much emotion and truth that she absolutely believed him. She swallowed her need to laugh nervously and deny she was anything close to what he believed. It was enough that he saw her as amazing.

  She blinked away the sudden tears that had no part in her plans for the night. Before he could reach for her, she laid her hand flat against his chest and pushed. He rolled onto his back as she rose over him.

  “I want to discover you tonight, touch all of you with nothing but silence between us.” She lowered her head and slid the tip of her tongue across his lower lip.

  “I wouldn’t count on it being all that silent.” His quiet laughter was filled with anticipation, hunger.

  He reached up to run his hands over her arms, trailing his fingers across her collarbone and down to the swell of her breasts. “Who are you, Ivy Lowe?”

  She shuddered. “I’m not sure.” The path of his fingers left goose bumps behind. Ivy traced the shape of his face with one finger, and when she drew it across his mouth, he captured it with his lips. “I thought I was normal, ordinary, but I’m not. I’ll never be that person again.” She stared into his eyes as he swirled his tongue around the tip of her finger before nipping and releasing it. “I think we’re a lot alike.”

  He raised one brow. “Let me guess. You’ve been on Google tracing your demonic ancestors. I never guessed.”

  “Nothing like that. We both started out thinking we were one thing, but now we find out we’re something very different.” Did she have the courage to say it? Say it, say it. “We both have jagged edges, but our edges fit together.”

  “Like a weird and wonderful jigsaw puzzle.” He buried his fingers in her hair and drew her down to him. Then he covered her mouth with his.

  It was a long, drugging kiss filled with discovery. She loved the way his lips moved against hers—slowly, sensually. His taste had changed. Tonight it was sweet with a touch of tentative. Why? But his scent was the same—warm, male, and distinctively his.

  Gasping, she broke their kiss. She was drowning in sensation, allowing herself to sink into the magic of him. “I want to touch every inch of you.” She heard his muffled laughter.

  “Yes, well, measurements are changing rapidly. But have at it.” He kissed a path along the side of her jaw and then whispered in her ear. “When I first reached the mortal plane, I was no more than a ravenous beast programmed to destroy. But one thing I remember—the scent of the cool breeze that night. I’ve never forgotten. You are my new memory, the one I’ll never forget. You were the tipping point, and after you, I became something different.”

  Ivy smoothed her fingers over his pecs, rolling his male nipple between her thumb and forefinger. He moaned his appreciation. She would tell him with her mouth, her fingers, her whole body what she couldn’t say now.

  He’d taught her about shades of gray, and about being more than she thought she could be. Ivy circled his other nipple with her tongue and then drew it into her mouth. She flicked it with her tongue—teasing, tormenting—before nipping gently. His body shuddered beneath her.

  “Let me—”

  She placed her finger over his lips. “Shh. Allow me. You gave me all the pleasure the first time. I never got a chance to explore.”

  He didn’t subside completely. While she licked a trail over his smoothly muscled chest and down over his stomach—she loved how his stomach clenched at the touch of her tongue—he rubbed circles on her back, each circle more urgent than the last.

  When she came up for air, he speared her with a stare so hot, so erotic that she almost decided to cut her journey short, straddle him, and ride him into the sunset. Then she gathered her control, determined to finish her trip.

  She bypassed her final destination for the moment to take a side trip along the inside of his muscled thigh. Ivy nibbled her way toward her goal, each taste of him tugging loose a strand of her control.

  His breaths were coming in pained gasps. “You’re a cruel woman. I’ve know kinder demons. Are you sure you’re not… ?”

  Laughter bubbled up and spilled over, relieving a little of her building tension. “No demons in my family tree, only faeries.” She had to ask now. “Do your claws come out when you’re… ?”

  “Being sexually tortured by a heartless faery vixen? No, unsheathing my claws isn’t instinctual. And please stop talking. I’m running low on control here.” He emphasized how his control was teetering on the brink by spreading his legs and arching his back.

  “Your music is, though, isn’t it?”

  Murmur clenched his teeth. “Doesn’t matter. I gave the musicians the night off.”

  He bucked as she finally arrived at trip’s end and celebrated by clasping his balls and squeezing gently. Thinking was growing tough, and speaking even tougher. Her heart pounded out a rhythm, and she realized that she missed the accompanying music.

  She had no pity. Ivy licked a zigzag pattern up the side of his cock, then closed her lips over the head. Her magic tongue toyed with him—sucking, nipping, and licking until his guttural cry told her he was on the edge.

  He wasn’t the only one. She’d slipped from civilized everything into primitive grunts. With a moan, she flattened herself on top of him and felt his heat seeping into every inch of her body. She wiggled around to feel more. If she could only sink through his flesh and curl up inside him, life would be perfect.

  With a muffled curse, Murmur’s control s
napped. He rolled with her until she was on the bottom, looking up at him. In a move too fast for her to follow, he was on his knees straddling her. He ran his hands over her body with fingers that shook, and when he leaned down to touch her nipple with his lips, she screamed. She freaking screamed.

  She had only one working brain cell left. Ivy knew that because she’d counted. And since that one cell had to do the work of her entire brain because the rest of her brain was off partying somewhere south of her navel, it took a long time to think things through… Instinct. His music was instinctual. It was part of what he was. He was suppressing it now.

  He lowered his head and touched her there with the tip of his tongue. She almost came off the bed as she whimpered her pleasure. She must’ve annoyed her lonely brain cell, because it was threatening to turn off the lights and head down to the party too.

  Concentrate. It. Was. Hard. He’d slid his hands under her bottom and was clasping her cheeks—squeezing, squeezing. She blinked and forced one more thought out of her overworked brain cell. His music was part of him, and she missed it.

  Ivy opened her mouth and said the last intelligible words she’d utter for a while. “I miss your music. Bring it with us.”

  And suddenly it was there—booming kettledrums, clashing cymbals, shrieking violins, and trumpeting horns. Yes!

  Somewhere her brain cells were singing the melody while the rest of her warbled the chorus. A drunken chorus, because she couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything except feel. And it was almost too much.

  He whispered words she couldn’t understand as he lifted her to meet his thrust. She was absolutely not whispering as he pushed into her—slowly, slowly, excruciatingly and unbearably slowly. She shouted her joy as he finally filled her, stretching every inch of her body around him.

  And then he drew out. She moaned. He plunged in. She moaned louder. In, out, in, out until the friction became a chain reaction. Friction, spark, ignition, lift off!

  The music was a thundering crescendo as she arched to meet his final thrust. This time she heard his cry a moment after hers, his explosion joined hers, and the musical notes hung in the air, raining down bits of melody as the spasms grew weaker and weaker until she lay exhausted.

  He lay beside her and simply held her. She could feel the thud, thud, thud of his heart, still racing, and his rasping breaths slowly evening out and slowing. Finally, they both lay still.

  It was quiet. The moment was right. “You know I meant it when I said I loved you.”

  He didn’t move. For once his music was still. “I thought you might’ve said that just so I’d fight harder.”

  She knew her laughter sounded nervous. “Well, that too. But I do love you.” She waited.

  “I love you too.”

  The silence had color and texture. It was the quiet right before laughter, the soundless footsteps of happiness, the… Oh, shit, she was crying.

  He let her cry. And when she was finished, he handed her a tissue without commenting. She smiled. He was a guy. Tears tended to leave males speechless no matter what their origins.

  “In case you were wondering, those were tears of joy.”

  “Good. I don’t always understand human emotions, and tears make me nervous.” He smiled as he brushed back a few strands of hair from her face. “We need to discuss things.”

  Uh-oh. Nothing good ever began with those words. “Why?”

  “Because everything has changed now. We have to face what’s coming.”

  No, no, no. Please don’t bring me down from this high. She was soaring—out of the galaxy, past the Milky Way. All the way to the edge of the universe. She was the Big Bang. A serious discussion would send her tumbling back to earth.

  “Your family.”

  She sighed. “Right. My family.” Ivy hit earth with a dull thud. “I guess introducing you to Mom as my demon lover might cause a few cracks in our family structure.” What could she possibly say to her always-grounded mother? How could she shield Kellen from the consequences of Mom finding out he had faery blood?

  “My connection to the Underworld.”

  Now that really scared her. He didn’t want to return, did he? “Your master doesn’t have power over you anymore. Won’t they leave you alone now?”

  “Not necessarily. It’s complicated.”

  “How complicated?” Lord, please let him stay with her.

  He glanced away. “I had Holgarth draw up a contract. Right after the faery thing is settled, I’ll return to the Underworld and try to hammer out an agreement with Naamah. If she goes for it, we’ll be able to live here without fear.”

  “And if she doesn’t agree?” Panic rode her. She took a deep breath, trying for calm, trying for confidence.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Ivy didn’t even have to think about her next words. “If you have to live in the Underworld, I’ll go with you.”

  Murmur looked as close to shocked as she’d ever seen him. “You’d do that?”

  “Believe it.”

  Sadness moved in his eyes before wonder replaced it.

  The sadness tore at her heart. He didn’t say it, and she refused to ask, but for a moment the truth had been there for her to see. She wouldn’t be able to follow him.

  He drew her to him. His heart was a trip-hammer, and she gloried in this proof of his feelings as her head rested against his chest.

  “You’re the only one who has ever loved me unconditionally.” His laughter was soft, with a catch in it. “You’re the only who’s ever even liked me unconditionally. I’m not particularly likeable. I have a snarky sense of humor, and I can be a real pain in the ass. Do you think you can live with that? Forever?”

  She wouldn’t think about the forever part, because her forever wouldn’t be forever at all. What she couldn’t face, she’d put aside for later.

  “Absolutely.”

  The silence curled around them, warm and comforting. But Ivy knew it wouldn’t last, that the real world would eventually intrude.

  Finally, he rolled onto his back and said the words she’d dreaded. “First, we have to survive the faeries.”

  18

  Waiting was the hardest part. Murmur stood in the castle courtyard looking up at the midnight sky. Ivy stood beside him. He didn’t want her there. They’d fought about it. He’d ordered her to stay in Kellen’s room with her brother behind a warded door. That hadn’t ended well. She’d said she would stand beside him to face the faery host.

  He loved her, and he feared for her. But he silently promised Ivy that no faery evil would touch her tonight, even if he had to wrap the entire castle in his death music.

  Sparkle joined them. Ganymede wound around her ankles. She wore her own version of battle dress—black leather pants, black leather bustier, and black knee high boots. She carried a black whip that she snapped against the side of her boot. She’d allowed her long red hair to fly free tonight.

  Ganymede chuckled. “Dominatrix Sparkle is in the house. She wanted me to wear a spiked collar. Not going to happen.”

  Sparkle sniffed. “Perception is everything. I intend to project the image of a confident, sexy, powerful woman. The Sidhe appreciate presentation.”

  Ivy watched the sky anxiously. “When do you think they’ll get here?”

  “Anytime now.” Sparkle shrugged. “Relax. We have lookouts on the walkway at the top of the wall. They’ll warn us. Holgarth and Zane activated all the gargoyles throughout the park. They’ll make the faeries think twice.”

  Murmur glanced behind him at the giant gargoyles guarding the great hall doors. Their eyes glowed yellow. He didn’t know how much he trusted them. They hadn’t given Archangel Ted much trouble. He hoped Holgarth had done a major tune-up on them since that battle.

  Wind whipped through the courtyard, and high above them thin clouds scudded across a full moon. “A good night for a faery hunt.” Murmur half closed his eyes, searching the part of him that knew things. The faeries were
so close now that he could feel his music returning to him, bringing the Sluagh Sidhe with it. He only hoped everyone at the castle hadn’t made a deadly mistake.

  The sound of a collective indrawn breath drew Murmur’s attention back to the present. He turned toward the great hall doors.

  Asima stood there. Braeden stood beside her.

  Murmur smiled. Asima had managed to suck all the air from the courtyard.

  Ivy spoke first. “You look like a faery princess, Asima. They won’t be able to resist you.”

  Murmur had to agree with Ivy. Asima wore a gown that practically floated in the breeze. White and beautiful, it contrasted with her long black hair and spectacular blue eyes.

  “That’s Asima?” Ganymede’s voice held awe. “Looking good, babe.”

  Murmur had forgotten that none of the others had seen Asima out of her cat form. He allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

  “Asima?” Sparkle didn’t try to hide her shock and disbelief.

  “You look amazing tonight, Sparkle.” Asima swayed toward them, every step graceful and confident.

  Murmur silently cheered. Asima had taken his advice and was trying to reach out to others. He hoped Sparkle didn’t shoot her down.

  Sparkle blinked. “Amazing? Are you sure you’re Asima?”

  Asima smiled. “Of course.” Her smile faded. “Do you think the faeries will like me?”

  Braeden spoke up. “They’ll love you.” He cast a warning glance at Sparkle. “Won’t they?”

  Sparkle had moved closer to inventory Asima’s outfit. Ganymede padded along beside her. She evidently couldn’t find fault, because a reluctant smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. “That’s exactly the dress I would’ve chosen to impress the Sidhe. They don’t have adventurous taste in clothes.”

  Murmur didn’t know if Asima would think that was an insult. He never got to hear her response because suddenly one of the lookouts shouted.

  “They’re coming!”

  The defenders of the castle poured into the courtyard—Edge and Passion, Dacian and Cinn, Holgarth and Zane. Klepoth and Bain came out last. The two demons joined Murmur and Ivy.