The Shadow: The Original's Trilogy

by Cara Crescent

  “So what’s the moral of the story, Duchess? That I’m the bloody fucking rabbit? The piece of shit everyone else overlooked and shat on and fate tossed your way? Now you’re stuck with something you don’t want?” He couldn’t help the bite in his tone. He’d already played that part once. He’d been Gertie’s “better-something-than-nothing.”

  “You’re twisting my words.”

  “Am I? You told me this long-arse tale about the bear you wanted and the rabbit you got in response to me simple question, ‘Why do you keep pushing me away.’ I get it. I’m your bloody rabbit.” He wiped his hand over his head and turned from her. “Listen to me, I sound like a fucking idiot.”

  “But that’s just it, Duncan. You’re not the rabbit. It’d be so much easier if you were. If I didn’t care.”

  He stopped. Thought through the last few minutes. Replayed her last comment in his mind. He wasn’t the rabbit. He wasn’t the booby prize she’d gotten stuck with.

  She wanted him, but . . . what? Didn’t want to want him? Did she fear what everyone else would say? That they’d look down on her for having a mate like him? That made the victory bitter-sweet, at best. Christ, the coven would arrive soon. That’s why she was so upset. She feared what they’d think of her saddled with a big, rough-sounding brute like him.

  He understood. But he hated it. It fucking hurt. Hurt that she wasn’t as proud to have him as her mate as he was to have her. It hurt that he wanted her despite that. Oh, he’d keep his distance once the coven arrived. He got the message. But right now it was just them. He strode through the water and pulled her back against him. “Is that why you kept my handkerchief?”

  She tensed.

  “Don’t understand you.” He nuzzled the downy soft skin between her ear and shoulder and with little coaxing she leaned her head to the side in acquiescence. “You can trade that old rag in, you know. Press your face right up against me skin when you want to catch me scent.” His hands splayed across her abdomen, pulling her tighter against him and damn, she was soft everywhere. “I don’t know if I want to make love to you or spank your arse for twisting us both into knots.”

  She rubbed her arse against him and his cock took notice. “Do I get a say?”

  “No.” He nipped her earlobe. She wanted him. Needed him, damn it. Just once he wanted her to say the words. Then he’d hang back. He wouldn’t embarrass her. “You’re gonna let me love you tonight.” His chest squeezed. “And that’s gonna be the end of it. Yeah?”

  *****

  That was fine with her. She had no desire to argue with him and she couldn’t use her Magic here. For once, she wouldn’t have to worry. Maybe they could come back here again. “Dunc . . . ”

  “You need me.”

  She shook her head, but leaned all her weight against him. She couldn’t help herself, he was so damned big. So strong.

  “You do.” He turned her around. Cupped her chin. And when her lips parted, he dipped his thumb into her mouth. He fixated on the sight. “Tell me what I want to hear, Duchess.”

  She closed her lips around him and swirled her tongue against the pad of his thumb before pushing his digit out. His expression darkened. “I need you to hurry.” Her nipples brushed his chest, sending a shockwave though her.

  “No.”

  She met his gaze.

  “You been making us suffer. Punishing us both. I’m taking my time, and you’re going to tell me what I want to hear.”

  That she needed him, like some old-time Hollywood damsel in distress? “No.”

  His lips pressed against her ear. “I’m going to make you beg, love.”

  A shiver swept up her spine. She stepped back, shaking her head. “I don’t beg for anyone.”

  “You will for me.” Fierce. That expression returned. The one that made her think she’d pushed him a tad too hard. The one that made her wet. He stalked toward her, forcing her back until she came up against a smooth boulder. He fit his big hands around her waist and lifted her, setting her on top.

  Steam rose from her body as her skin broke out in gooseflesh.

  He backed away, but held onto one of her ankles. “Let me see you.”

  See her? He had her bare naked, sitting on a rock. His gaze tracked down her body, over her breasts, her belly. Goddess help her, he wanted to look at her pussy. Her breath caught. Her breasts peaked into hard little points.

  “Yeah, you like the idea.” His thumb stroked the inside of her ankle. “Don’t go shy on me.”

  Her whole body heated. She’d never allowed anyone to stand there and . . . look. Then again, no one had ever asked before. She bit her lip, leaned back on one arm and spread her legs wide.

  “Christ, you’re tiny.” He shook his head, but his gaze didn’t waver. For a moment he swayed and then he stood taller—must have found a ledge to stand on—just the right height to slip himself into her.

  Instead, he took himself in hand. She couldn’t remember ever seeing anything quite so sexy—that big hand riding over all that rigid flesh—and her inner muscles clenched. His breath came quicker. His chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

  “Show me what you like, how you want me to touch you.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You’ve never?” His gaze shot up to tangle with hers. Challenging. Calling her a liar.

  “Not with someone watching.”

  He grinned. “I’m not someone, I’m . . . ” Her mate. His smile faltered a bit, reminding them both nothing had been settled. “Show me what you want me to do.”

  Butterflies swarmed in her belly. She slipped her hand down.

  A breath shuddered out of him. His reaction alone made desire pool deep inside. She stroked over her closely trimmed curls, used her fingers to part herself, spreading herself wide for his pleasure.

  A tremor rolled through him, making the water ripple around his legs.

  He liked this, was getting off on watching her. She held herself open, slipping her middle finger over her clit.

  “How’s it feel?”

  “Like lighting shooting through my limbs, electricity pooling in my belly.”

  She dipped her finger lower, wetting it in the well of her pussy, slicking it, so she could stroke herself off easier. This wasn’t anything like masturbating alone. Having his gaze on her. Seeing his breathing change. His expression darkened as she worked herself. “Dunc.”

  He leaned over her, bracing one hand on the stone near her hip and brushed his mouth over her nipple. “Don’t you dare stop, Duchess.”

  She wanted to drag him closer. To wrap her legs around his hips. To feel all his hard angles and planes against her skin. She wanted his fingers in her. His tongue. His cock. But with one hand supporting her weight and the other on her clit . . . she arched up, high as she could. “Duncan.”

  “Harder.” One word spoken against her nipple. One word that made her belly quiver. Made her inner muscles clench with the need to feel him. His mouth drove her to distraction, light sucks and gentle nips. “Dunc, I need more.”

  He knelt between her legs, brushing her hand aside. He put his lips to her clit and sucked.

  All her muscles locked up tight as her climax shot through her. Her pussy flexed around nothingness. She moaned and let herself fall back against the boulder, her whole body throbbing with each wave of release.

  “Good girl.”

  “I’m not a girl.”

  He chuckled. “Still in a fighting mood, eh?” His finger slipped inside her and she gasped. That. That’s what she’d needed two minutes ago. He curled his finger in a “come here” motion, hitting her just right. A low moan tore from her throat and she squirmed.

  “I like you like this. Pliant. At my mercy.”

  She opened her eyes to find him hovering over her. The boulder she lay on curved, leaving her head lower than her chest and the rest of her sprawled out like some ancient pagan sacrifice with her breasts facing the sky.

  And her mate wanted to tease. That one
damn finger sliding in and out of her body. She started to sit up, but he pushed her back down. “I’m not done.”

  She stroked her hand over his shoulder, down his arm—the only parts of him she could reach. “I want to touch you.”

  He winked. “It’s not always about what you want.” He lowered his head, drew a nipple into the heat of his mouth. Stroked her with his tongue. Released her to slide the uneven ends of his teeth over the peak. And all the while that finger slipped in and out, doing what she wanted him to do with his cock. She tried to get one of her feet under her, to at least push against him and gain more friction, but the boulder was smooth and her feet were wet and all she succeeded in doing was sliding down a little.

  A second finger joined the first. Her nails dug into the arm he had braced on the boulder. The tension started to build again, winding deep in her belly, making her limbs tingle and burn. He stroked his tongue over her breast again and she felt it in her pussy. Everything inside her strained and she couldn’t hide from it. Couldn’t curl her body into the pulse and release, all she could do was lie there and accept what he gave.

  The tip of a third finger prodded at her entrance.

  “Duncan?”

  “You’re all right. You’ve taken me cock before. You can take this.”

  She shook her head but with stubborn persistence that third finger slipped in. “Oh.” Eyes wide, staring at the upside down world behind her, she panted. Her nipples tingled and ached. She pressed her free hand to her belly where her muscles quivered with impending release. Tried to shift her hips—to escape, to get more, she couldn’t decide.

  He twisted his hand and his fingers sank deeper as he curled them up.

  She screamed. Her orgasm ripped through her with the force of a flash fire, hot and bright at first, then simmering with a slow burn after.

  He pulled her up and turned her over so her forearms rested on the boulder. Behind her, he curved around her, surrounded her as he fit the head of his cock to her entrance. Still, he remembered to keep his weight from her. “Say you want me.” He nipped her neck. Soothed over the spot with his tongue. “Tell me.”

  “Yes.” She rocked back against him, all that hard male—thick thighs against hers, pelvis to ass, corded stomach and chest hovering over her curves. “I want you.” She pushed back, trying to force him to her will. The broad head caught on her opening. “Please.”

  Just like last time, he felt impossibly big and as he probed against her, her body refused to open. Her hands fisted. Flexed against the boulder and with every nudge, her nipples scraped against the rock. She shouldn’t still be this needy. She’d been expecting him to tease her toward orgasm and then deny her, but he’d made her come twice. Still it wasn’t enough.

  His big hands cupped her hips, steadying her and he pressed inside. She gasped. Lowered her head to her arms. Lifted to her toes. Too much. Being so absolutely empty one minute and too full the next. “Dunc. . . .”

  He forced her back down onto her feet. Flesh to flesh. Full to bursting. He rested his head on her shoulder. “Never felt anything as good as your well-loved pussy.”

  They stayed still, her body acclimating to his until need throbbed through her again. She tried to rotate her hips, but he held her still. Slipped one hand down between her legs and stroked her clit. Slowly pumped into her and with each thrust, she slid forward, her nipples grazing the rock below her, sending sparks straight to her pussy.

  Her hands fisted. She hung her head. “You’re going to make me come again.”

  “Good. Want to feel all that wet heat clenching around me.”

  “I want to touch you.”

  “We all want things we can’t have.”

  “Duncan!”

  “Tell me what I want to hear.”

  Damn him. She bit her lip. Tried to push back to make him increase his pace. Tried to raise up or lower her chest so her nipples weren’t dragging against the rock, stimulating her further.

  Stronger, he maneuvered her exactly where he wanted her.

  “Please.”

  “Please, what?”

  “Please move in me faster. Make love to me. Fuck me, damn it. I need you.”

  He left her.

  She whirled around and before she could say anything, he pulled her up into his arms. Her legs went around his hips of their own accord and cock slipped into her pussy. He clenched his jaw tight. Sweat beaded his brow. “Is that so hard? Saying you need me for something? Anything?”

  Already he gave her what she needed. Holding her by the ass, lifting her up, guiding her back down. She’d been a bitch about asking for it. “Dunc, I need you.”

  “You’ve got me.” He thrust up into her as if to punctuate his point. “You remember you’re the one who said you didn’t need me.” Thrust. “You said you’re better off alone.” Thrust. “You said this”—thrust—“couldn’t happen again.” Thrust. “You.” Thrust. “You—”

  She kissed him. In part because she needed to. Needed to feel him on and in every part of her and in part because she couldn’t hear any more. She wavered. She wanted to be with him. She did need him—not for protection or to take care of her or any of that bullshit. She needed him because he made her feel alive. He made her feel cared for. Loved. Needed him because she loved him. And that’s all she’d ever wanted.

  *****

  Dunc, I need you.

  Never had he heard sweeter words. He kneaded her arse cheeks with his hands, spreading them every time he lifted her. One of these days, he’d know her there, too. Soon. He wanted to know every part of her, be in every part of her.

  Her pussy slid over his cock, clenching around him with his every thrust and she was so damn tight. Fit him like a second skin. Like she’d been made for him. Her breasts dragged across his torso with every thrust, those sweet nipples stabbing into his chest. She tightened her legs, rotating her hips every time their bodies met, driving him insane. Her nails scored his shoulder. Her lips feasted on his. Little moans vibrated through her. She was perfect.

  Almost.

  Stubborn woman. He shouldn’t have to manipulate her to get her to say what he needed to hear.

  Her inner muscles quivered, squeezing around him. A hot flush of passion crept over him starting in his loins and sweeping up to his head, making him shudder. He clenched his jaw tight, refusing to submit to his body’s demand for release, remaining still in her until he regained control.

  She refused to let him. Impatient, her legs constricted around his hips, lifting her body before relaxing to slide back down. She wouldn’t let him be gentle, either. Fierce in her quest to please, she made sure he experienced every part of her soft flesh, nipping teeth, biting nails. Uninhibited and demanding, she commanded equal measure as she rode him. Her inner muscles gripped him, clasping, drawing him deeper. Liquid heat poured over him.

  He supported her with his arms, holding her above the water, lest she drown while consumed by the orgasm rocking through her. He slowed his rhythm to match the pulsing grip and release of her inner muscles.

  She curled herself around him and nipped at his throat. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to send him over the edge. His muscles tensed around her as he thrust into her hard, deep as he could. Chills coursed over his skin as waves of pleasure shuddered through him.

  After, she held tight to him. Her face resting against his shoulder. One hand drawing lazy circles on the back of his neck.

  “You made me knees weak, Duchess.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I thought we were both gonna drown.”

  “Ah-hem.”

  Duncan stiffened. Who the hell—?

  “I’m not looking.” Doom.

  “You better not, you perv.”

  “The coven has been spotted. They’ll be here within the next fifteen minutes. I’m putting your bags here by the door.”

  The door slid shut and Duncan sighed. “Guess we’d better get dressed.” He set her away from him and they waded to the edge of the pool. She
’d gone quiet again. Distant. Hadn’t said anything at all since they’d made love.

  They got dressed and he watched Trina as she tried to not notice him. The ways she yanked on her clothes, she must be chewing on something, but she didn’t appear inclined to share.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She shot him a glare as she rubbed her hand over her tattoo. So much for the lingering afterglow.

  Maybe not the direct approach, then. He brushed his knuckles across her upper arm. “What’s this?”

  She shot him a questioning glance and he dropped his gaze to the tattoo wrapping around her upper arm.

  Her gaze turned cagey. “Nothing.”

  The hell it was. The black design had curved symbols that reminded him of the spells he’d seen. “They’re words, yeah? Like the ones in the Black Book of Daemonology?”

  “Witch’s rune script.” She turned.

  He caught hold of her arm.

  “You’re not going to let it go, are you?” When he shook his head she groaned. “Lilith and I have . . . .” She sighed. “Had this ritual. Whenever we’d been apart for a while we’d have a night of drinks and confessions—a fun way to catch up. We went a little round the bend one night—”

  He laughed. “Do you even know what it says?”

  “Of course I do.” She scowled. “It’s a spell. Both of our tats are.”

  “What’s Lilith’s?”

  Her gaze went up, searching the sky. “She wanted love.”

  “So her wish came true.”

  She folded her arms over her chest.

  “And did yours?”

  “Yes.” She blinked hard a couple times, as if fighting off tears. Had she cursed herself? Done something to make it impossible for him to claim her?

  “Well?”

  She pressed her lips together. Looked away. “’During this life, I belong to no man.’”

  Relief surged through him. Fuck’s sake, he’d been worried she’d done something serious.