Destiny Fulfilled

by Laire McKinney

  “Stop,” she said, whimpering.

  He ignored the plea. The stress of the past days was cast aside, and an animal emerged in its place.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He nibbled along her neck and sucked the tip of her ear between his teeth. She tried to shake him off.

  He growled low in his throat and shoved her against the side of the home. She beat against his chest with her small hands, and he snorted, grabbing her wrists and thrusting them over her head. He held them easily with one hand while the other ran down her raised arm and traveled to her breast. He’d wanted to touch her since the day in the parking lot and nearly came with the feel of her now.

  His lips moved back to her mouth and this time she hesitated, her fight reduced. She wanted his kiss. She may try to fight it, but that simple parting of her moist lips told him she welcomed this invasion. He thrust his hips against her and she cried out, a mixture of fear and desire filling her voice.

  “Lass,” he said, breathing into her ear, “I want you.”

  She struggled anew. “Stop.”

  But he didn’t.

  “Stop. You’re scaring me.”

  He heard her voice, but it sounded far away as he massaged her large breast in his hand and licked the corner of her mouth. The breast fit his hand perfectly, and he knew his hand would forever remain ready to cup it again. In fact, he never wanted to let her go. Her smell, taste, the feel of her was overwhelming, imprinting itself in his mind, against his skin, within his soul.

  He’d never responded to a woman like this and it was too delicious to bear. He wanted her, to take her body fully and completely, to feel her underneath him as he brought pleasure to the both of them with his ancient rhythm.

  But then a whip-like slap against his neck made him pull back. “Ouch.”

  She wiggled out of his arms and moved to the far banister. Her full breasts heaved with each breath, nipples taut against her shirt. He couldn’t control his urge to wrap his big hands around their soft plumpness again, and he lunged forward, trapping her against the railing before she had time to move.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands, ready to die with the feel of such perfection.

  “Ouch.” Something slapped his neck again, and he stumbled back. Was it that damned faery again? But the slap was too hard for such a wee creature. What was it then?

  Lingering near the tree line was Oephille, anger causing her brightness to pulse. He raised his gaze to the tree by her side, whose longest sinewy limb hovered just over his head.

  Damned trees. They were supposed to be friends.

  But when he looked back at Wren, stunningly, hauntingly beautiful…achingly, tenderly vulnerable, he realized he’d been about to make an enormous mistake. Forcing the lass would not achieve anything other than brief respite for the desperate hunger in his loins, and desperate it was. No, it would take more than that.

  But how his body ached. His manhood pushed painfully against his too-tight jeans. He throbbed all over, understanding well how the fire in his body could usurp the logic in his mind.

  Wren’s slender arms folded over her chest, and she stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide. She appeared more bewildered now than angry.

  “I’m sorry, lass.” And he meant it. Well, at least part of him did. What was going on here? This wee woman had a strange effect on him, and he liked it not. He didn’t recognize himself, and that was dangerous. He had to stay focused on his goal.

  She remained silent, watching him like a weary calf who had just survived an attack by a grizzly bear.

  He raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders. She stood before him, captivating and ethereal, perfect and scared.

  Her lips parted as though she were about to speak, but then she stepped forward, closing the space between them. She did not touch him but looked directly into his eyes. Hers were soft and pleading. For what?

  Then he knew.

  She panted and her mouth opened again. He bent his head toward hers. She did not pull away. He inhaled her scent and brought his lips to hers. Soft, so soft were her lips, like bundles of silk.

  He moved his hands from her shoulders to the bare skin of her neck and cradled her face. He was gentle now, tender. The urgent needs of his body were now controlled under the desperate timing of his predicament. He had not frightened her earlier as he’d thought. No, he could tell she wanted him to kiss her, to hold her. So he pulled her closer, then closer still. He needed her to love him and love him true. And from her reaction to this kiss, she was already halfway there.

  She lifted her arms and placed her hands on the outside of his arms. He flexed his muscles and heard the thread of his shirt give. She squeezed his arms and made the softest moan, deep in her throat.

  It took all the power of his ancient resolve not to carry her inside and to the bed. He wanted to mate with this woman so badly he could taste the salty pleasure of sex like he could taste her fruity sweetness.

  But he had her where he needed her.

  Falling for him.

  Wren broke away from the kiss and turned toward the forest. It was dark, cast in shadow, the trees looming like long, cylindrical giants.

  “Where did you come from?” She heard strain and uncertainty in her voice. “I don’t understand what is going on here. Who are you?”

  Somehow this man had entered her life, saved her life, and now had altered her life. Not only did she not know who he was, but she had no idea who she was anymore.

  She was content with Brian, if not happy. He was safe, secure, and would make a good husband. He would care for her when her own mental break came, if it hadn’t already. But here she was, kissing this man who had killed her client, gotten her suspended from her job, and nearly forced her against her will. She didn’t recognize herself.

  When he didn’t respond, she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I think you should leave.”

  “Wren?”

  “What?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Are you actually going to give me the answers I want? Come with me to the police station?” Somehow, she knew that was not what he had in mind.

  “About something else.”

  “What then?”

  Just as his lips parted to speak, a minivan lurched up the driveway, interrupting the moment. Something told her she should be glad for the distraction, even though it was her sister. As she slammed on the brakes, her five children piled out of the car and ran toward the house.

  “Auntie Wren,” the children, in various stages of filth, screamed. She glanced at Ray. His mouth hung open as he stared at the onslaught of children.

  Wren welcomed each dirty child into her arms. “Hey, guys.”

  Erika, overweight and unwashed, lumbered behind the kids. “Who are you?” she demanded as she reached the porch, picking her teeth with a chipped pink fingernail.

  “I am Ray.”

  “Ray?” Her beady eyes flipped to Wren. “What happened to Brian?” She sneered at his name—she had never liked Brian. In fact, Erika had never liked anyone.

  “Nothing happened to Brian. He’s working.”

  With a huff, Erika pushed into the trailer. Wren followed, with Ray close behind. The kids ran into the kitchen, yanking cookies and prepackaged cakes out of one of the top cabinets. Within minutes, they settled down in front of the television and began shoving food into their mouths, crumbs flying.

  “Did Mom go to the hospital again or something?” Oreo crumbs, nestled in the corners of Erika’s mouth, spewed forth as she spoke.

  “Yes. Kelly called an ambulance a couple of hours ago. She stopped taking her meds.”

  “Humph.” Erika shoved another cookie in her mouth, chugged a soda, then burped loudly.

  Wren took a deep breath and listened for Ray’s comment, but he said nothing. He stood behind her left shoulder, very close, but not touching. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. First her mother and now her sister. Brian accepted these women in
her life with no comment. But she really knew nothing of Ray. What would he think?

  Her heart tugged as she looked at her nieces and nephews. Then she glanced at Erika, who was cleaning her ear with a bobby pin. She had never been close to her sister, and it wasn’t because they were only a year apart in age. Erika had never liked her and never tried to hide that fact. She had teased Wren relentlessly as a child, mocking her looks by calling her Snow White with a hateful sneer while rallying the kids on the playground to do the same. No one treated her like the princess the name symbolized, for sure.

  Ray laid a hand on her shoulder and the weight of it sent an intoxicating mix of calmness and miniature shocks through her body. She closed her eyes, letting the sensation overcome her. As her head lolled back, a soft moan escaped her lips. Her body leaned toward his, drawn by his heat. She settled her head against his chest and forgot everything bad in her life.

  “Let’s go.” She was suddenly eager for space and slid outside.

  She walked down the porch steps, the memory of the kiss threatening to make her stop, pull this enigma of a man toward her, and make him kiss her again. She continued well into the yard, desperate for privacy from prying eyes.

  Something in her was changing. It was like Ray had entered her body, taken her nerves, and rearranged them to make a completely different person. She was calmer, that was certain. But she also felt alive in a way she never had before. Each living cell of her skin pulsed with a new energy, and she saw the world through a different lens than ever before. She didn’t know if it was for better or worse.

  She’d been frightened when he held her and wouldn’t let her go. The kiss had been too harsh, too demanding. But when he’d pulled away, disappointment washed over her in waves, and she’d returned to him for more.

  Kissing Brian never felt like that. They’d shared their first kiss when they were sixteen, and little had changed since that first uncomfortable, sloppy meeting of their lips.

  In high school, he’d tried to coax her into sleeping with him, but she’d held back. When she left for college, she had boyfriends but never had sex with any of them. She was just never interested enough to risk so much.

  Then, as an adult, she returned to this area, and to Brian. She still wasn’t interested in sex, and his born-again Christian sensibility wasn’t either.

  She’d gotten off the hook.

  But now, well. Being kissed by Ray had pierced her body with a million sugar-coated, sweet-scented arrows. For the first time ever in her life, she wanted more.

  How much more?

  Everything, a voice whispered in her head.

  Ray placed a hand on the small of her back and steered her toward the truck, out of view of the trailer’s windows. She went willingly.

  What am I doing? What about Brian?

  But Brian was forgotten as Ray stopped at the driver’s side door and pushed her against the cool metal. Her heart felt like it was about to burst open like a lit package of Fourth of July fireworks.

  He put his hands on either side of her shoulders and leaned down. She could have ducked underneath his arms to escape, but she didn’t want to. No, she wanted to be kissed again.

  He leaned in and inhaled her scent—she’d never experienced anything so sexy—and her knees gave out. Catching her by the arms, his hands clamped above her elbows. He pulled her forward, crushing her against his solid chest. Never had she felt like such a woman, and her body lit like a torch soaked in gasoline.

  Tingling sensations shot through her and she suppressed a giggle of glee, lest he think she was laughing at him. She would do nothing to cause him to stop this intense exploration of her mouth.

  He prodded her lips apart with a hot, moist tongue, and she obeyed his unspoken request. Using his body as a weight to hold her in place, she could barely breathe, barely wanted to breathe. He was large, so much bigger than she, and she felt, for the first time ever, what it was to be out of her mind with passion.

  She arched her back, knowing her breasts would mold to his hardened chest. A puff of air shot out of his mouth and she smiled, sensing how turned on he was, relishing in the simple fact that she was the cause of his arousal. Her breasts had always been a source of chagrin for her, with men spending far more time staring at them than looking at her face. How could she never have known how incredible they were? That they held the ability to bring a grown man to a whimpering mass? If Ray had opened his eyes, he would have seen a very womanly, cat-like grin pull at her lips as his kiss burned against them.

  She clutched his arms, moaning at the strength coursing through his body, at the fire awakening hers.

  With this man, nothing else mattered. Nothing.

  RIAGAN KEPT HER flat against the smooth metal of the truck with his body, bracing himself with his hands beside her shoulders, the coolness of the truck a welcome salve for the burning of his body.

  He positioned his hardness against her, relishing in the light whimper that came from deep within her throat. The lass wanted him, that much was certain. And what was also as certain was that he wanted her, too.

  He moved his hips side to side, up and down, forcing himself to keep the grinding gentle. He slid his hand into her hair. The silky strands wrapped around his fingers as if capturing him in a web. He ran his tongue along her teeth, the rim inside her lips, her tongue.

  He was almost too hot, too boiling from her touch, like an active, virile volcano. He held her head firm for his kiss, his touch. She could not pull back even if she wanted to.

  It didn’t seem that she did.

  He moved his other hand down to the small of her back. His palm fit well over the narrow expanse. But then her buttocks jutted out underneath in the most sensual swell. He cupped her bottom in his hand as she nibbled his lip.

  He ran his hand under the soft mound and clenched. Then he trailed his hand up her side, following the womanly curves that were so perfectly placed she could’ve been born of the angels.

  Then he found her breast. She jolted at the intimacy of his touch, but he held her head fast and she surrendered. He massaged the blessed pillow as her hands ran up and down his arms, making soft scratches with her nails along the way.

  The other breast was every bit as inviting, nearly throbbing under his expert touch. A thick handful of his hair was clasped in her hand. Nails dug into his arms sending erotic flashes of pain through his veins.

  It hurt but felt so good.

  Finally releasing her mouth, he trailed licks toward her neck after she tilted her head back to give him access. Her sweet perfume was more noticeable against the throbbing veins under her ear, and his hips pushed harder.

  That scent wafted through his blood, imprinting itself in his memory. He would never forget that scent. Ever.

  His hips moved faster and she clutched him, trying to keep balanced against the truck.

  Lust consumed him. He could devour this woman—the feel of her skin, the smell of her breath, the sound of her voice. Everything about her whirled in a haze as his body took full command of the situation. He wanted this woman.

  He wanted her now. “Let’s go into the forest.”

  She moved her hips in rhythm with his. “Ray?”

  “Come with me.”

  She tried to pull away. “Ray.”

  His hips continued the slow gyration against hers.

  “Ray, please. Stop.”

  “Stop?” He knew his breath was hot in her ear. “Stop? You don’t want me?”

  “My sister. Her children.”

  “They are busy eating cookies.” Licking her neck would change her mind and he flicked his tongue over her skin, expecting a whimper but receiving another “Stop.”

  This time he pulled back.

  She slid down the truck. He faced her, his hands clenched and his body aching. She stood with her back to the forest and didn’t seem to notice the portal’s brilliant light shining.

  “Not here. Not like this. Not in front of my nieces and nephews.” Her eyes
were hardened now, resolute. Then she said quietly, as if to herself, “Maybe not at all,” as if she was trying to decide whether to give herself to him or not.

  He saw the desire in her eyes, smelled the sweet scent wafting off her skin. She wanted him, there was no doubt, but she was also refusing him.

  Riagan wanted to scream. Why, exactly, he was no longer certain.

  Ray stalked off into the forest and somehow she wasn’t surprised. That was the only place he ever went. He didn’t seem angry at her, but frustration was written all over his face. She didn’t mean to be a tease but this was new to her. She’d never felt the desire to throw herself at a man before. Was this normal?

  Had she hit her head so hard that it changed some fundamental part of her? Life as she knew it seemed so distant, so remote, so obscure. Work. Jerry. Her mom, now safely in the hospital. It was all a dream. The only reality that mattered now was the man standing at the edge of the forest watching her with an expression she could not read.

  And she didn’t even know him.

  When he turned and bolted into the forest, tears welled in her eyes. Was she sad because he’d left? Sad because he hadn’t come back and taken the virginity she was so willing to give? Or was she sad because deep down she knew her behavior was the result of her mental breakdown?

  When Erika and the children tumbled out of the house, Wren wiped her eyes then planted a smile on her face. Her sister would never notice it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Bye,” Erika said with a grunt. The kids ran to Wren, and she hugged them all. Then she helped buckle the younger ones in their car seats and blew kisses. Erika threw her an impatient glare and peeled away.

  Wren watched until the van lurched out of sight, then, seeing no sign of Ray, went back into the now quiet trailer. She cleaned up the mess they left behind and went into the kitchen to make another cup of tea.

  Duke pawed at her ankle. “Hi, boy. You want a bone?”

  Duke’s chocolate eyes watched her, as if judging her mental competence for himself. He didn’t respond to the offer of a bone.