by Nina Bangs
Mmm. While the thinking part of Conleth Maguire was probably still analyzing data on her fantasy’s possibilities, his primitive center for sexual gratification had already decided that, hey, kinky is fun, and was rising to the challenge.
“You know, I’m glad those rumors that you’re twelve inches of long, strong man are off by a couple of inches.” She stroked his erection with the tips of her fingers. So much power to please sheathed in smooth taut skin. “Because according to those same rumors, I can fit every studly inch of you in my mouth. That would officially make me the babe with the biggest mouth in Texas.”
She watched him bite back his laughter. “If you keep mentioning my studliness and your mouth in the same sentence, you might have a very short fantasy.”
“Right. All serious here.” She narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips until she morphed into Super Vixen. “Up against the wall, animal.” She glanced at the wall. “What’re those manacles made of?”
“Plastic. Chains are plastic, too.” He backed against the wall and waited expectantly. “I won’t be able to put them on myself.”
“I guess I’ll have to get close to you and do it myself.” She offered him an evil leer.
Swaggering to where he stood, she pressed herself against his bare body as she reached for the manacles. “Spread your arms and legs.” Standing on her toes, she clipped the plastic cuffs on his wrists. When she was finished, she rubbed her breasts against his chest, lightly pinched each of his nipples, and then bent over to shackle his ankles. She maintained her bent position long enough for Con to realize that bras didn’t figure into her seduction plans either.
Finally straightening, she brushed her lips across his. “Where to start, where to start?” Mandy smiled her most wicked smile. “You have so many things to pay for.” She trailed kisses across his chest, pausing to flick each nipple with her tongue. All of this nipple action was making her feel . . . anxious. It was also setting off some minor tremors in parts of her body susceptible to major quakes.
“Okay, had enough. Let me go.” A thin sheen of sweat was forming on his body.
She made a small moue of disappointment. “I can’t let you go yet. I haven’t even started to exact payment.” Mandy slid her tongue down the middle of his chest and over his flat stomach. “That’s for the snakes with blue butterflies on their tails.” The minor tremors were escalating to anticipatory clenching, and her nipples were experiencing extraordinary sensitivity. All signs of a coming eruption. She frowned. Wait, eruption meant volcano and trembling meant earthquake. Oh, what the hell. The earth would move. That’s all she needed to know.
“Push me too far, Harcourt, and you . . . probably won’t regret it.” He looked desperate, but loving it.
Dropping to her knees again, Mandy glided her fingers along his inner thighs, and then bent forward to gently kiss the flesh around his arousal. “This is for painting my bare behind in your picture. The only reason I’m showing some mercy is because you painted yourself beside me.” And because her own body was making some pretty specific demands. She needed to speed things up.
“You’re killing me with your mercy, wicked woman.” His breathing was taking on a raspy sound.
“Thank you. We do what we can.” She cupped his balls in her palms and circled each with the tip of her tongue.
“And this is for making me want you again.” Circling his erection with her tongue, she worked her way up to the head. Then she slid her lips over the head and swirled her tongue in ever tightening circles—teasing, tormenting.”
He groaned and then sucked in his breath. For a moment the room was completely silent. As he exhaled sharply, she slid her mouth down his length, taking him deeply. Slowly, she began the rhythmic in and out motion that would drive him beyond control.
Talk about control . . . The male taste of him, the heated scent of him, and the sensation of her mouth sliding over his flesh, made her want to stand up, wrap her legs around his hips, and take him right there against the wall. Whoa, she was losing it.
“Stop now, Mandy. I’m not going to last much longer.” He sounded seriously upset by that fact. “Set me free.”
She leaned back on her heels and gazed up into his eyes. Heat, hunger, and an emotion she wasn’t quite sure of moved in them. Well, here went all or nothing.
“This is the last thing you have to pay for, my Druid.” She laid her palm over the black rose on his hip. “Your special magic made me love you, Con.” She replaced her palm with her mouth. And carefully traced the flower with her tongue.
“Set. Me. Free. Forget it. I’ll do it myself.” With a growl that would’ve thrown fear even into the heart of Holgarth, he broke the plastic manacles.
Uh-oh. She scrambled to her feet. “Gee, they don’t make dungeon equipment like they used to.”
That’s all she had time to say before he was on her. He spun her around, and before she could yelp her alarm, he’d unzipped her dress and it was floating to the floor. Since everything else was gone, she kicked off her sandals.
“I’ll never make it up those steps. So we have a choice, sweet-heat. We can make love on the concrete or do it standing up. I’m a softy at heart, so you get to choose.” His breath was hot against her neck.
The concrete biting into her behind? Not likely. “The wall sounds sensational. But do it fast before I self-destruct.”
She braced herself against the wall while he gripped her bottom and lifted her off her feet. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she put her head back and whooped her joy as he drove into her. Faster, harder, faster, harder. The words ran together in her mind as the pressure built, built, and then exploded. The earth rocked and rolled, the volcano spewed fire into the sky, and she screamed her completion to the universe.
Her legs slid to the floor, but they sort of wobbled. Con kept his arms locked around her, and she could feel the thump of his heart as an extension of her own heart.
His breath was still coming in painful gasps. “I love you, Mandy Harcourt. Marry me, and you can paint all the walls of our house cream for the rest of our lives.”
He loved her that much? Mandy leaned away from him so she could see his eyes. She knew he’d probably see the shine of tears in hers, but it didn’t matter. She was just so damn happy. “Really?”
“Really.” He scooped up their clothes scattered around the dungeon. “Let’s get upstairs so we can generate some plant growth.”
“We can hang your painting on one of the walls of our house.” She raised her arms as he slid her dress over her head and zipped it up.
“Great.” He picked up each of her feet to slip on her sandals.
“I’ll wear a red wedding dress.” That would make the sluts in her basement cheer.
“You can wear cream if you want.” He must be feeling mellow.
“We have to invite Holgarth and Sparkle to the wedding.” Mandy frowned. “I know it’s unusual, but I want Sparkle to bring Deimos. I mean, he sort of helped to bring us together.”
Con mumbled something as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. She’d take it as a yes.
“Do you think the owner would let us take Sweetie Pie and Jessica home with us?” She was feeling generous toward the world.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Well, that was definite. “Sheesh, you didn’t have to shout.”
“Look at me, Mandy.” He tipped her chin up so she had to meet his gaze. “Besides loving me for the rest of your life, there’s one other thing I’d like you to do.”
“Anything.” Well, almost anything. She still wouldn’t paint the castle walls red.
“I want you to model for me. I want to paint pictures of you in every mood, with sun shining on your face, and shadows turning you all sensual and mysterious.” He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand.
She widened her eyes and slid her tongue across her lower lip. “I don’t care where or how you paint me, but just make sure of one thing.”
“What?”
>
“Always color me wicked.”
Keep reading for a special preview of Nina Bang’s new book . . .
WICKED EDGE
Available in paperback March 2012 from Berkley Sensation!
“How ugly and horrible are they? Do they coat your skin with slime? Does their stench make you nauseous? Do you feel like you’re walking into the bowels of hell?
Passion sighed. Of all the heavenly contacts they could’ve assigned to her, why Hope? Once a day she’d have to listen to this idiocy in her head.
She could picture Hope sitting in her little cubicle surrounded by the neutral colors Archangel Ted loved. Ted, along with everything else in heaven, was bland and boring. Okay, so Passion could include herself in the bland and boring category. She accepted the reality of her existence. But she’d looked into enough human minds to know their vision of heaven was a fantasy.
Humans. Sure, they could get sick and die. Fine, so they suffered heartbreak and other emotional traumas. But from Passion’s viewpoint, things were a lot more exciting on the mortal plane. Could anyone blame her for trying to spice up her own world? Guess that was a resounding yes.
She supposed the final straw for Ted was when she talked the other angels in her department into painting their cubicles lime green. In her opinion, Ted had some serious control issues.
So here she was, on the outside looking in.
And you have only yourself to blame. If Passion had been a better angel, she wouldn’t have drawn this punishment—a still-to-be-determined amount of time spent living on earth as a human. No powers, no friends, forced to check in once a day with Hope-the-heavenly-drama-queen. The only good thing? The Council of Justice had at least given her some privacy. Hope couldn’t read her thoughts; she could only hear what Passion spoke out loud.
“They’re . . .” Way too beautiful. Evil should appear in shades of muddy brown or black. But no, just look at them. The Seven Deadly Sins shimmered and flowed around the Castle of Dark Dreams in vibrant jewel tones. Totally gorgeous. Totally tempting.
Oops. Wrong reaction. “They’re . . . awful, disgusting, but sort of exciting.” Hmm, maybe she should explain that last word just in case Hope got the wrong impression. “I mean, it’s exciting to think about all the peace, harmony, and massive heavenly vibes I’m going to bring to this place.” There, that was better. Didn’t want anyone taking away the only thing she had left, her ability to see the colors of sin.
“Oh.” Hope sounded disappointed. “Well, keep in touch.” She broke the connection.
“Absolutely.” Passion knew her smile wasn’t kind. Note to self work on sweet and sincere smile. Hope and the other angels had gotten used to her supplying their daily entertainment. Too bad. Passion wouldn’t be there to amuse them for a while because she’d be busy earning her way back into heaven.
She had to be the perfect angel. Sure, she’d always longed for more . . . variety in her existence, but she sure hadn’t planned on getting that variety as a powerless and frighteningly vulnerable mortal. She could actually die, like never-coming-back die. She shuddered.
Passion crossed the drawbridge, avoiding glancing down at the moat’s black water in favor of staring up at the castle—a keep with four square towers complete with a curtain wall. The whole thing gleamed white, a color symbolizing goodness and light. Fake. Goodness and light didn’t live here.
She’d take care of that by the time she left. She narrowed her eyes as she strode through the open gate and across the courtyard, headed for the doors leading into the great hall. Spotlights lit up the night around the castle. No threatening shadows warned the innocent about what waited inside. Righteous anger drove her as she reached for the door. She’d smite the wicked and save all those poor souls inside who . . .
She paused. No powers, so no smiting. Damn. Passion closed her eyes. No cursing. Ted hated cursing. So many things to remember. But she could do this. Opening her eyes, she pulled the door open and stepped inside.
Someone spoke. “Ah, another person who didn’t bother to check the schedule and has chosen instead to annoy the hell out of me by showing up at the last moment.” Dramatic sigh. “But I live to serve, so I’ll probably be able to stick you in somewhere. All the choice parts are gone. How do you feel about playing the lowly maiden who serves the queen? Not a virgin. The virgin part was taken by a woman who obviously has only a faint memory of that particular condition.”
“Virgin?” Startled, she looked at the speaker. A wizard? A short one. Gold-trimmed blue robe, tall conical hat that added at least a foot, and all of it decorated with gold suns, moons, and stars. He’d topped everything off with a long, pointy gray beard that matched his narrowed gray eyes.
“Yes. The part is gone.” The wizard looked down his nose at her, which was tough to do when she was taller than he was. “If it’s any comfort, you’d fit the part better. Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes, and uninspired pale clothing. You, my dear, are the definition of unawakened. Avoid Sparkle Stardust at all cost. Now, do you want the lowly maiden part?”
“No.” What was he talking about? She glanced around. People in medieval-type costumes wandered the large hall. Too bad the Council of Justice had kicked her down here without full disclosure. All they’d said was that the castle needed help. This place was her ticket back home.
“You look confused.” The wizard glanced at his watch. “As much as I’d love to waste more time explaining the obvious, I have a fantasy to direct. Feel free to gawk. If you care to wait until this fantasy concludes, you may buy a ticket to the next one over there.” He pointed to a small table by the door with a TICKETS sign taped to the front of it. “And you might want to read that.” He gestured toward a sign on the wall above the ticket table.
Bemused, she watched him turn to walk away. Violet, the color of pride, swirled around him. No kidding. Too bad there wasn’t a color for bad-tempered old farts. She took a deep breath. Get rid of unkind thoughts.
Passion didn’t know how other angels did it. They wore their perfection like a pair of comfortable old shoes. Her shoes pinched her toes and left blisters on her heels. She constantly wanted to kick them off. Well, she’d kicked them off a few times too many.
She looked at the sign. Fine, so she was in an adult theme park called Live the Fantasy. The Castle of Dark Dreams was one of the park’s attractions. It was a hotel as well as a place where nightly fantasies were played out. The first fantasy began at seven P.M. That would be right about now. She should get out of here and find the registration desk for the hotel part of the castle, but she couldn’t resist taking a peek at the fantasy.
A long table with people in costumes seated around it rested on a raised platform at one end of the great hall. Passion assumed the major parts like the queen were played by the castle staff. They’d guide the fantasy. The public could buy tickets to play lesser parts. Made sense.
It only took moments for the fantasy to capture her. What could she say, heaven didn’t get cable, and she was easily amused.
Mesmerized, she followed the tale. A demon was killing the castle’s people. The queen’s greatest hunters couldn’t catch him. So the virgin offered to sacrifice herself for the good of all. She’d lure him into their clutches with her virginal beauty and purity. Hah. Passion was seeing lots of blue swirling around Ms. Untouched. Lust. Passion couldn’t read her mind, but she’d bet there weren’t a lot of chaste thoughts bouncing around in that head.
The wizard had been right about the virgin. If the demon was smart, he’d run like crazy. She’d eat him alive.
Of course, the dumb demon fell for the trick. She heard the virgin’s not-overly-convincing screams coming from one of the darkened hallways along with the demon’s snarls and the shouts of the hunters. A few minutes later the virgin led the parade back into the great hall, followed by the triumphant hunters surrounding the cage of the captured demon. The queen called the virgin and her hunters forward to praise them, and Passion got her first look at the demon.
A voluminous cape and hood covered him from head to toe. All she could see of him were his hands clenched around the cage’s bars. Well, that was disappointing. She was all ready to be awed by the pure evil carved into his face, the demonic gleam in his eyes. Passion felt cheated.
Then he turned his head toward her. She sucked in her breath. Wow, just wow. The hood shadowed his face, but that didn’t lessen the impact. Nothing said savage predator like strong slashing brows, a full mobile mouth drawn into a snarl, and amber eyes that shone with every wickedness she’d ever imagined and some she hadn’t dared.
And he’d fixed his gaze on her. Passion looked away first. She realized her hands were shaking as she pushed a strand of hair from her face. Time to get out of here.
But even as she started to move toward the door, Passion realized something. She’d been so focused on his eyes that she’d barely noticed the color swirling around him.
Oh, no. It spread horror in a slick coat of ice over her soul. Black. Not one of the Deadly Sins. This went beyond those. It was rage, greed, and all the others taken to the final act. Death. This man was beyond redemption. She shuddered. What could she do to yank the castle from the brink with him dragging it down? Passion didn’t know.
She pushed the door open but couldn’t resist one look back. A thin band of blue had joined the black. Lust. Males thought about sex a lot. She wondered if he had a specific target for all that hunger, or if it was simply his normal state of being. Passion had no experience with lust. Didn’t want any experience. She sighed. Yeah, lying was a sin too.
Once outside, she drew in a deep breath of clean night air. She’d escaped. And that’s exactly how she felt, even though he was the one in the cage. She’d have to toughen up if she wanted to do any good here.
But she would need some time to get used to everything. The only experience she had of the mortal plane was what she’d seen and heard in the minds of the souls she’d visited. Even though she’d been focused on easing their worries and nudging them down the path of goodness and light, she’d absorbed enough knowledge to blend in.