by Eve Langlais
“No. No man truly knows a house until a woman has had her way with him inside it.”
“I’m inclined to agree. And I’d very much like to get to know your house better.”
In her bedroom Aria turned to him again, standing back to admire the man who had somehow made his way a great distance to her home, like the hero of some perfect dream. He was as gorgeous in this house as he’d been in the woods on that first afternoon. There was only one difference: he was clothed. And that was a great crime.
She reached with eager fingers and peeled the bottom of his t–shirt upwards. Lucian obligingly lifted his arms, and laughed when his hands touched the ceiling. He pulled himself free of the garment.
Aria stood back and stared at him, his body thrilling her in its strength and perfection. Roped muscles coated his torso, each shifting slightly as he moved. His jeans hung down just slightly so that a hint of hair teased Aria, who thought she might start drooling.
Instead, she stepped forward and unbuttoned them, then eased the fly down so that the jeans came away and fell to the floor, revealing thin cotton boxers with a sprig of mistletoe printed on the front.
“Cute,” she said. The word didn’t begin to describe the bulge inside the shorts which seemed to be attempting an escape.
Lucian shrugged, his dimples rendering him more adorable than any man had a right to be.
“Your turn,” he said, his hands reaching for her. “Or rather, my turn.”
With that he began to strip her, beginning with her sweater. With his fingers he treated her with the delicacy of a flower whose petals he was pulling back, slowly and carefully so as not to damage them. Each inch of her was revealed as for the first time, the shifter taking in the sights in a state of wonderment and bliss. He exhaled heavily as her breasts teased him with their roundness and eventually came free, only a thin piece of fabric between him and their perfect surface.
As he kissed her neck he slipped a hand under each strap of her bra, and Aria felt goosebumps rise on her flesh as strong fingers slowly, gently slid down her shoulders. Soft lips stroked her tenderly. Here was a man who was now determined to devote himself to her pleasure and to treat her as a goddess made of porcelain. Breakable, fragile, delicate and adored.
Lucian moved downwards, his mouth grazing her neck, her shoulder, down to the tops of her white breasts. Aria felt a surge of wetness between her legs as she watched him feast again on her, confident that this time he would control himself.
He was on his knees now, unbuttoning her jeans as her hands went to his hair, his face, his hard, muscular shoulders. Those irresistible thighs of hers, which had been too tempting last time, would be before him in a moment but he would kiss them lightly. He would treat them with delicacy.
The denim slipped away from her form easily, and along with it the lace panties that she wore. As Lucian pulled them down he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did so. “Perfection,” he whispered, taking in her scent.
Aria stepped out of the jeans and stood before her lover, her bra the only garment left to conquer.
With one finger Lucian pulled at its satin, slowly revealing her left nipple which began to grow firm for him, its tip pleading with him to squeeze it between his lips.
“Oh, yes,” he said, flicking it with his fingertip and positioning himself before her as the pink bud hardened to a small stone in response. He looked up into her face as she smiled down at his, taking in the moment, the complete adoration. Him for her; her for him.
Far below, she saw that out of the mistletoe boxers was peeking the thick head of his cock, which glistened slightly with a dab of clear liquid. His beautiful, juicy cock which she’d wanted since the first moment that she’d seen it. She had only to hope that he wouldn’t make her wait too long.
“Eat me,” she said, pulling her right knee away from her left. “Make me come for you, Lucian.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, recalling the last time he’d been in this position.
Aria sat on the edge of the bed and took his face between her hands, fingers steering his mouth towards her sensitive slit. “I’m sure. Please, Lucian. I want you to lick me. Don’t make me beg.”
With that, he slid his tongue over her opening, coating her in a mixture of her wetness and his.
“Good,” she said. “Now kiss my clit.”
Gently he pinched the pink hood between his thumb and index finger before pulling it back to expose her perfect, delectable bud. Aria watched as his cock flicked in response, as eager to be inside her as she was to be invaded by its thickness. Following her command, Lucian laid a soft kiss on her exposed clit and she convulsed gently, her body taking over from her mind.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s it. Again.”
Another kiss. Soft lips landed on her repeatedly as Lucian allowed his hands to spread her open now, and for his tongue to explore her, to stab her opening gently as she moaned above him.
His fingers moved to her lips, replacing his tongue and sliding along their delicate wetness as he landed a gentle lick on her hardening bud, which seemed to twitch under the gentlest touch. He slid one thick finger inside, and then two, and then slowly, rhythmically, he fucked her with them as her pelvis pushed itself into his hand, encouraging and inviting him inside her.
With his left hand he reached up for the nipples which had risen to greet him, puckering hard for his touch. As he ran an index finger over the surface of one and then the other, Aria put her head back and moaned. She trusted him fully. This time there would be no blood drawn. Only the sweetest sort of agony imaginable.
“Touch yourself,” she said, looking down again. “I want to see how you stroke that gorgeous cock of yours. For me, Lucian.”
Oh, God. This woman and her assertiveness, he thought.
Without hesitation he yanked his boxers down with one hand. In an instant his fist was wrapped around his thick shaft, massaging the tight skin which ached to find its way inside her. Aria sat up, watching his large hand, whose fingers could barely get around his thickness as they stroked him gently.
He peered back at her, his dark eyes betraying a near smile as his tongue went at her again, flicking at her clit as he pushed his fingers inside her channel. She was so tight, so wet.
“Oh, yeah,” she groaned. “That is so good, sweet thing. I’m going to come watching you. Don’t stop.”
Lucian’s tongue responded to her words, flicking at her harder now as his lips pursed around her, his fingers driving into her as he pictured his cock, swollen to the point of bursting, inside her, spreading her wide open, pounding her.
“Oh….God…”
At last she shuddered against him, ramming her pelvis forward so that his fingers met her depths, and he felt her opening squeeze him hard once, twice, and again and again as she came in violent waves.
Lucian didn’t let her off easily, continuing to lick her in soft strokes even as the shudders died down. Her whole body trembled and darts of electricity shot through every nerve with each flick of his tongue. Everything in him was determined and designed for her pleasure.
“I want you inside me,” she said. “Now. Please. I need it.”
Lucian stood, licking her juices off his fingers, and grasping his cock in his hand.
“I’m scared of hurting you,” he said softly.
“You won’t. You won’t. Please. Give me that giant, beautiful cock of yours, Lucian.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in this world.”
He moved towards her until his cockhead nestled between her lips, teasing her as she let out a small moan. She could already feel his size, how much he would spread her tight pussy open. She was patient, though, as he eased into her tentatively. Every inch was heaven, and her channel wrapped itself around him as though consuming him as he’d done to her.
When at last he was inside, Lucian leaned forward and allowed his tongue to flick one nipple, then the other, their red tips rising still more to meet
his mouth. Then, moving up, he kissed her lips tenderly, their tongues seeming to melt together as he eased his throbbing length back out of her.
Pulling his face away, he fixed his eyes on her own and pushed back inside, harder this time. Aria kept her eyes locked on his as if in reassurance.
Out.
Then in.
“Hard.”
It was an order, spoken by a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, consequences and all.
Lucian pulled out and then rammed his pelvis into her depths as she let out a cry.
“Are you okay, honey?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed and she smiled.
“God, yes,” she said. “More.”
Again he pulled out and again his body collided with hers, his thighs slamming into her flesh. This time faster. He began to drive himself repeatedly into her, relentlessly thrusting, his balls swollen for her, wanting and aching to explode inside her beautiful, tight pussy.
Aria let out cry after cry as she bucked under him, her fingernails raking his shoulders, arms, and back. She might have drawn blood, she knew, but the thought of it was only more arousing to both of them.
Lucian grabbed her hips, his knuckles white under the strain, and rammed her still harder as she yelled out in unebbing pleasure. He could feel himself growing nearer to the inevitable explosion. God, this woman is sexy. Her body was designed for fucking and he didn’t want it to end.
Finally he pulled out, reluctant to detach himself from her in any way. He kissed her long and hard, and with a smile, flipped her roughly onto her front. Aria let out a sound that denoted surprise mixed with amusement. Lucian was learning his own strength, and it was so good.
“I need to look at this gorgeous ass of yours,” he said, his cock glistening with her wetness. “I want to take you from every angle.”
In response, Aria lifted herself so that she was on her hands and knees, offering herself to him, inviting him to take her and showing her utter trust. Her pussy glistened with wetness, a moist home for him, inviting, warm and enticing.
She felt a lick; Lucian was on his knees for a moment, lapping at her again. Dear God.
Then a hard thrust and he was deep inside her. Hands on her hips, pulling her backwards, his body ramming into hers as he drove himself forcefully into her depths, her channel milking his cock with each firm thrust.
“Oh, God, baby,” he moaned. “I’m not going to last much longer. I’m going to have to come inside you…”
“Yes. Come for me, my beautiful man. My beautiful Lucian.”
As his rhythm sped up, Aria felt her extremities tingle, no part of her body sure of how to deal with this new sensation. The perfect cock, which seemed to touch her deepest nerves; the perfect man. And something else. Something intangible. She cried out again, begging him for more. More pounding. More fucking. Come for me. Come inside my sweet pussy.
Then, at last, she felt him draw himself into her; he held her tightly against his torso as he pulsed, his juices exploding inside her.
Aria felt tears well up in her eyes, surprising her with their earnestness. She’d known Lucian for only a short time and yet felt like an eternity had passed since she’d first known that she wanted him. This was the moment when her dreams were being fulfilled. She had only to hope that it wouldn’t be the only time.
His body pressed against her back, Lucian held her from behind. His warmth enveloped her like hot tropical air, caressing her every inch.
“I’ve lived for years. I’ve seen many things,” said the shifter. “But I have never been happy as I am in this moment.”
“Merry Christmas, Lucian.” Aria wished that he could see her smile. But she was certain that he felt it.
“Merry Christmas, Aria.”
About the Author
Carina Wilder is the author of the Wolf Rock Shifter series, the Billionaires and Curves trilogy, and The Sought by the Alphas serial. She enjoys writing about strong, real women with attitude, flaws, insecurities and bodies that aren’t manufactured in laboratories.
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A Christmas to Bear © Copyright 2014 Carina Wilder
Shadows Beneath the Falling Snow
An Elven King Prequel Short Story
Cristina Rayne
When an unprecedented visit from the supreme elven king, Kirion, disrupts elven princess Miriel’s usual plans during the winter solstice, it’s the least of her worries when a single touch by the powerful king could reveal a secret she and her family have desperately kept for over a hundred years. However, King Kirion has a few revelations of his own that could also change Miriel’s life forever.
A holiday tale set two thousand years before the events chronicled in Claimed by the Elven King.
Chapter One
When Miriel saw King Kirion for the first time, her first thought was, Mother was wrong.
Her mother had once described the supreme ruler of the Second Realm as a being who was cold, powerful, but exuded an almost terrible beauty as his presence alone tended to both awe and overwhelm all those who dared get close. Now, as she stood beside her mother, Queen Isilya’s throne seat, Miriel couldn’t help but stare as the king approached the dais. Hair the color of pure gold flowed over his shoulders to mid–waist like golden threads of silk. The contrast of that brilliant color was quite striking against the dark blue of his robes. No, there was nothing “cold” about this man. Rather, his very presence seemed on fire.
Keeping a neutral expression, she watched King Kirion nod his head in acknowledgement to the two Lithviri monarchs. Then her parents rose and stepped down from the dais to welcome the king with a deeper bow of their heads.
“The Royal House of Nalldir and the Lithviri welcome Your Majesty to our lands,” her father, King Arandur, said.
Not for the first time, Miriel wondered why King Kirion had decided to visit now of all times. Never mind that the last time he had come to their city had been before she was born, but to come on the winter solstice…well, it was unheard of for the reigning monarch to leave the performance of his kingdom’s own sacred ceremonies to another.
Her father waved a hand behind him, beckoning her brother, Elion, and her forward. Miriel stepped beside her mother again and bowed deeply to their visitor, careful to keep her eyes down. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Elion do the same. That was the first time she had ever seen her brother bow to anyone except their father, driving home the importance of the Sidhe standing before them.
“It has been far too long,” King Kirion commented as he took in the entirety of her family with a single sweep of his eyes, his deep voice reverberating with a power that she could physically feel down to her very bones.
Miriel surreptitiously peeked at the king as she straightened. She could literally feel the aura of his proximity as well as the intensity of his gaze even though his eyes remained fixed on her father as they continued to exchange pleasantries. It was as though the surrounding air had thickened exponentially and had begun squeezing her tightly. It made her want to both flee and prostrate herself completely at his feet.
She settled for standing rigidly and averting her eyes to the rest of the court. Her mother’s words had not quite captured the true essence of this experience. His presence alone had her quaking in her shoes. What would it be like to have those eyes filled with the knowledge of thousands of years look directly at her?
Miriel was once again uncomfortably reminded about a conversation she’d had with her father the previous day when he had informed her that King Kirion was to be present during their winter solstice festivities this year.
“Our supreme ruler has not set foot in these lands in perhaps two hundred years. Given the timing, I cannot think that it is merely for an exchange of pleasantries. You and Elion must both be diligent.”
At the time, his words had filled her with a sense of unease. She had never been very good at navigating the various intrigues of the
elven court, especially given the–secretive nature of her past history, a history that none but three others knew existed. As a result, it was rare to see her at any social engagement far from Queen Isilya’s side, her mother acting as her shield from all potentially dangerous questions. Thus, she had earned herself a reputation of being shy, something she had no plans of discouraging at all.
Miriel had thought her father had meant she would have to be doubly careful of King Kirion learning her secret, but now as she listened to the amiable tones of the two monarchs, she couldn’t help but wonder if her father had been hinting at something else entirely. She had passed her hundredth year over a decade ago. She was already long past the time when a princess of the House of Nalldir was expected to marry…
Her eyes flickered over to King Kirion for another quick peek once Elion’s voice entered the conversation. Her brother was perhaps as rigid as she as he bore the full brunt of the king’s attention while they conversed in low, serious tones.
Miriel relaxed minutely. Surely his business concerned the Realm as a whole and not anything as commonplace as seeking a new wife. There had been no death announcement of his queen, and even if she was deceased, the Royal House of Elerren always married one from the Orviri House of Vanvir as per that ancient agreement between the two Sidhe races. The Lithviri had never minded ceding the supreme queen’s throne to the Orvir Sidhe, and she saw no reason why her father would wish to change that now, much less make any kind of arrangement without at least talking to her about it first.
She was abruptly jolted out of her thoughts by a soft brush against her hand, and her eyes immediately turned to her mother. For a brief moment, Miriel saw a hint of worry in the queen’s eyes before she was ushered back to fall into a single line facing the court with her father and brother while King Kirion stood in the forefront in order to receive any nobles who wished to greet the supreme ruler personally. She sighed inwardly. She really hated these court sessions involving visiting dignitaries. They always seemed to go on for days instead of a few marks. With someone as important as King Kirion, she feared the greetings would literally go on well into the night.