by Shona Husk
“Just hold them in your hand,” he coaxed.
His hips moved lower, and heat pulsed between her legs. Then he rocked. The contact made her gasp. She wanted him, but he was holding back, waiting for her to give him the final proof that she trusted him. She hadn’t trusted anyone in so long. Did she trust the magic that was part of Kede?
She worked her lip between her teeth, her eyes on the rope. “They won’t knot around me?”
“You can let go anytime you want.” He took her hand and laid one binding over her palm.
The rope was cool and soft. She swallowed, forcing her skittish heart back into her chest. He repeated with her other hand. Her breath hung in the air, drawing out the moment. Being with Kede had changed everything. She couldn’t go back to being the Josie who never took a risk, never gambled on a chance. Her fingers closed over the ropes.
Kede worked his way down her body. He drew off her damp panties. Her fingers tightened as he spread her legs and lay between them. Her eyes closed as his tongue danced over her clit. The shudders rocked her bones as he brought her to the edge, and kept her there. Teetering, breathless, waiting for the fall that would tear her apart.
Her body quivered with need. The bed shifted under his weight. She opened her eyes, and Kede was above her. The crown of his shaft branding the lips of her aching, liquid sex. She lifted her hips and whimpered for more. He moved so slowly she thought he would never enter her. Her legs hooked around his hips.
He resisted and pulled back. “Don’t make me rush. Please.”
Josie’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. In his eyes she saw her own pain reflected. He didn’t want to leave any more than she wanted him to. She blinked to clear her vision. He pressed his lips to hers. No words were needed to express the pain.
Kede didn’t need to look at the timer to know how close to empty it was. He’d felt it hundreds of times before, the race to the end, pulling him out of time. This time was different. He was broken. He didn’t know if he would be able to do his job if he were called out again. How could he go back to being a pleasure object when Josette treated him like a man, and he wanted to be the man she desired?
Her body couldn’t keep still. Her hips moved, trying to take what she needed. She hadn’t let go. She had to. She had a life to lead, without him. He thrust into her waiting core to drown out the misery that wanted to claim him.
She bucked and moaned. The endless ripples of her climax ripped through him. He didn’t hold back—she didn’t want to him to, and prolonging the inevitable was just twisting the serrated knife embedded in his heart. He slammed home repeatedly, pushing her higher again. His body surrendered before he was ready. The useless seed in his balls spurted out. He lay spent over her. She breathed fast on his skin. Her heartbeat fluttered beneath him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, her legs locked tight around him. Not even her tight embrace would save him.
He kissed her lips, after nothing more than a final taste. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Neither did I.” A fragile smile passed over her lips. “I won’t forget you.”
“Nor I you.”
Together, they watched the last few grains of sand fall. He waited for the fragmentation of his body, the sleepy sensation of being drawn out of time. Aware, but not aware.
The last red grain hit the pile and rolled down the side and stopped. The top was empty. Nothing moved in the hourglass. With each passing heartbeat nothing happened. He didn’t disappear. Neither of them moved, locked together by apprehension and hope.
“The sand has gone,” she said as if not believing her eyes.
That made two of them. “I know.”
“Does that mean…?”
Kede looked at Josette, her eyebrows raised in question. He had no answer. This had never happened before, and he didn’t want to hope too much. He didn’t want to raise her hopes.
The urge to complete his job was gone, as was his connection to the hourglass that had timed his life until now. In its place was a connection to the woman who lay beneath him, wanting to know if he would stay.
He wanted to stay.
“My bottle is in the kitchen.”
She unwound her legs, and he eased away. His footsteps echoed as he went to the kitchen. The ruby bottle that had been on the kitchen counter was gone. In its place resting on fine crimson sand was a black wallet and a set of car keys. His fingers skimmed the cool sand. He rubbed the grains between his fingers. His bottle was gone, returned to dust. His bottle had been traded for one mortal life. He really couldn’t go back to being Inanu.
A smile broke through and turned up one corner of his lips. He picked up the keys as new knowledge flooded his brain. He dusted off the wallet and opened it. Plastic cards and paper money were tucked inside. Inanna hadn’t forgotten her children. She’d always intended their freedom when they were gifted with her most precious gift.
Love.
He offered Her a silent thanks.
Josette watched him wide-eyed from the bedroom door. “What will you do?”
He swung the car keys. “I can drive.”
She looked at him, then the keys. “They’re Audi keys.”
“Are you coming?” He walked backwards towards the door. He wanted her there as he experienced life for the first time as a man and everything that entailed.
“You need to get dressed first.” She dashed to the bedroom.
Her head start wasn’t enough. He caught her in the doorway and kissed her without a trace of duty, only love. Love for the woman who had opened her heart to him and who filled his now fragile human heart.
“I love you.” And he understood what that meant. Something that had remained a mystery to him since the day he was created. He would do anything for Josette. Giving up immortality was nothing compared to what he’d gained.
Her arms circled his neck. “I love you, too. I guess Inanna answered what The Universe couldn’t.”
Neither of them noticed the two pieces of paper that had fallen off her vision board. Sometimes you get exactly what you ask for, if you are willing to make a lick of faith.
About the Author
Blessed with a lively imagination, Shona spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and she hasn’t looked back. Dark fairy tales and the paranormal have always fascinated her, and it’s not uncommon to get to know spirits, vampires, were-creatures and demigods through her books. In her free time Shona likes to keep fit and get creative in the kitchen… Toblerone brownies anyone?
For more information, stop by the WINKgirls at www.winkgirls.blogspot.com or visit www.shonahusk.com. She can also be found at www.goodreads.com discussing her favorite books over a glass of wine.
Rumplestiltskin is not his name and this hunk’s no gnarled old goblin.
Demon Lover
© 2010 Bonnie Dee and Marie Treanor
Fairytale Fantasies, Book 2
In his quest to land her a rich husband, Gwyneth’s father has gone one step too far and bragged to the king’s steward. Now she faces an impossible task: spin a room full of straw into gold by morning, or their lives are forfeit. She despairs, until a black-garbed figure offers to solve her problem for a price. One kiss.
He returns the second night, and the third. With each sensual encounter, the stakes escalate along with her attraction to her mysterious visitor. Then he claims the ultimate price—her child—and she realizes too late she’s made a deal with the king of the Underworld.
From the moment he kisses her, Ragnorak knows Gwyneth’s child will be a worthy heir for his kingdom. But with each touch, he wants more. He wants her to be queen of his strangely beautiful world—and for her to want to stay. But that will mean giving her the ultimate weapon—the power of his name.
Gwyneth has only three chances to drive her demon lover over the edge of bliss. But when the stakes suddenly shift, it’s Ragnorak who stands to lose everything…
Warning: This book turns a
well-known fairytale upside down, and involves hot sex with a villainous demon—or is he…?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Demon Lover:
Once more Gwyneth waited in the room full of straw, desperate and alone, but with a sliver of hope which she hadn’t possessed the previous night. For now she knew there was someone who could give her the magic to perform the impossible task. But what could she do to summon him?
She stood in the center of the room, sneezing as the chaff in the air tickled her nose, and examined the chamber from corner to corner. How had he entered the room? Did one of the great stone blocks which made up the walls and floor move aside to provide him entrance? And where exactly had he come from?
She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Sir,” she called softly, “I beseech you to come to me again. I need your help. Please.”
There was no answer. The dead silence was disturbed only by a tiny rustle, perhaps of a mouse brought in with one of the bales of straw.
Gwyneth clasped her hands together. “I cannot do this alone. I need your magic. Please, I’ll do anything you require if only you will save me once more.”
More silence. What if he didn’t come this time? Now that the king was convinced she could perform the task, he might take her refusal to accomplish it a second time as willful disobedience—perhaps treason. Could she convince him that her magic power was used up since the full moon of the fifth month was waning? She couldn’t be expected to produce gold again until another eighteen years had passed, according to her father’s bizarre claim.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tears slipped from the corners to trickle down her cheeks. “Please, I need you,” she whispered.
“Then you shall have me, my lady.” The voice murmuring near her ear, hot breath tickling her neck, nearly jolted her out of her skin. She started to whirl to face him and her shoulder slammed into his hard chest. He stood right behind her, as solid and immovable as a wall.
One gloved finger reached out and caught the tear which had dripped nearly to her jaw. “Diamonds,” he murmured. “More beautiful than the green glass you wear around your neck.”
Gwyneth automatically reached up to touch the elaborate emerald necklace that draped her throat. “You’re here,” was all she could manage to say.
He dipped his hooded head slightly. “Your wish is my command, but as before, I will demand a payment.”
What this time? Her heart pounded as she remembered the ravishing kiss last night, the way it had stolen her breath away and made her skin burn.
“I have this necklace.” She fingered the cold, hard gems. “Although I don’t know how I would explain its loss to the king.”
“Then you don’t really have the necklace if it doesn’t belong to you.” He stroked a hand down her arm from shoulder to wrist, and her flesh tingled. “But you have other jewels more precious than those. Rubies.” He touched her lips lightly with a fingertip. “Star sapphires.” He indicated her blue eyes. “And a single precious pearl.”
One gloved hand slid down the front of her gown to cup her mound through the layers of silk and petticoats. He pressed hard with his finger on the very bud she had massaged earlier, and warmth bloomed from the sensitive spot.
Gwyneth drew in a sharp breath.
For a sizzling moment they remained locked together with his hand on her pussy the only point of contact, and then, abruptly, the demon stepped away from her. She felt the absence of his commanding presence which had made the air around her positively crackle with energy.
She licked her lips before she spoke. “What would you have me give?”
He looked around the room. “There’s more work to be done tonight.”
It was true. The room was filled with nearly half as much straw as the previous night.
“I would need more than a kiss this time.”
Scissors of fear and excitement snipped through her mask of calm. “How much more?”
“I want to touch you. Everywhere. And I want you to touch me.”
Her excitement mounted. He would unmask, then. She would see his face at last. But then the other half of what he demanded struck her. He wanted to see and touch her body—naked. She’d never been naked in front of anyone in her entire life.
At her hesitation, he added, “I will not have sex with you, nor will I force you to do anything you don’t enjoy. But I must have something for my trouble.”
Gwyneth had no other options, and a deep-seated part of her wanted to know his touch and to have his gaze travel over her body. Just thinking about it set her afire all over again.
“Very well. It’s a deal.”
“Then you may begin to spin. I suggest you hurry, as there’s a great deal of work to be done and I demand some time at the end of the evening for myself.”
Gwyneth gazed at the mountainous bales of straw and empty spindles waiting to be filled. Her fingers were already swollen and sore despite the balm one of the serving women had treated them with. The task before her seemed monumental—but at least not impossible now, she reminded herself as she cut the twine on the first bale of straw.
She sat on the stool and fed the strands into the flyer while her foot pumped the treadle, making the wheel spin round. Gold thread began to coil around the first empty bobbin. She fed her lapful of straw into the machine and reached for more, all the while rhythmically pumping her foot up and down. It was impossible to see at what point the strands of straw became metallic gold. The wheel was a blur, the distaff spun and Gwyneth gave up trying to see the moment of change, accepting the magic as she did the mysterious wizard himself.
She hummed softly and rocked in time to the rhythm of her foot on the treadle. All the while she was acutely aware of the man who watched her.
“Do you enjoy spinning?” he suddenly asked.
“When I’m not doing it to save my life, yes.”
“What is that song you hum?”
“An old spinning song one of the women in the village taught me. It helps me keep a rhythm so the thread is spun evenly.”
“Your mother didn’t teach you?”
“No. She died when I was very young.”
“I see.” He had moved to stand beside her, watching her hands move and standing with his own clasped behind his back. “And what of your father?”
“He raised me the best way he could, I believe.”
“The way one would raise a prize calf for the market.” His tone was as sour as week old milk.
She stopped spinning and turned to him, glaring. “My father loves me. He wants the best for me. Is there any harm in that?”
“When it puts you at the king’s mercy? Yes.”
Gwyneth nearly knocked her stool over as she rose and marched over to fetch another bale of straw. She was sweating as she dragged the heavy load past the dark-cloaked man.
“You will never be done in time at this rate, and there won’t be time for my payment,” he remarked. “I will help you to finish faster.”
With a swirl of his hooded cape, he turned from her and brought over another bale of straw. He handed her bundles of straw and replaced her distaff each time it was full of gold. Gwyneth’s hands flew as she fed straw into the flyer, her foot was a blur operating the treadle and the wheel spun so fast it made her dizzy. She was fairly certain the stranger was responsible for this increased speed with his mysterious magic.
Much sooner than the previous evening, or at least she thought so, although she had no timepiece with which to measure the night, the seemingly insurmountable task was finished. Rows and rows of golden thread sat on the floor. Only a few bobbins were still empty, and there was no straw left except for chaff and dust that littered the floor.
Her back stiffened as Gwyneth became aware of the stranger standing behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders, heavy and warm. She was torn between pulling away from the unfamiliar touch and purring like a cat as he kneaded her muscles lightly.
“Are you ready to pay my price?” The low
rumble of his voice set her very bones trembling in a not entirely unpleasant way.
A past with three, a future for two…
A Question of Love
© 2009 Jess Dee
Sequel to A Question of Trust.
Gabe Carter and his best friend Connor’s passion for threesomes brought Tina Jenkins into Gabe’s bed—and into his heart. As a matter of honor, he gave up the woman he loved. Time passes, times change and old promises fall away, but Gabe is still in love with Tina. Now he’s going after his heart’s desire.
Tina has her own opinion about Gabe’s sense of honor. His departure tore apart the most special of bonds and destroyed her relationship with Connor, leaving her brokenhearted. It took her a long time to pick up the pieces, a struggle she doesn’t wish to repeat. When Gabe shows up at her favorite coffee shop, she knows just where to tell him to stick his apology.
Gabe isn’t so easily put off—and Tina can’t help but respond to his seduction. Picking up where they left off is tempting, but Gabe wants her all to himself. And Tina wants the whole package, which includes Connor.
At the risk of crushing his hopes for the future, Gabe sets out to prove he’s more than enough man for her…
Warning: If piping hot sex, ménage scenes, adult toys, anal play, short blonde heroines and stacked, muscular heroes are not your cup of tea, then don’t read this book. You won’t enjoy it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Question of Love:
“Shut up, Gabe.” She punched him again and then again, this time on his arm. “I’m busy being pissed off at you.”
He tensed his biceps, accepting her blows without comment.
Shit, wasn’t that just typical Gabe behavior? Everything went by without comment. Everything. Even his departure from her life. She hit him harder. Then harder again. “Damn you, Gabriel Carter,” she spluttered. “You left us. You left me. You walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me. You bastard.” The hand she’d been attacking with throbbed so she switched arms and pummeled him good. Rage came bubbling to the surface, lending strength to her strikes. “I loved you, goddamn it. You and Connor. You were my world. My happiness. And. You. Walked. Away. You destroyed us.”