She was wet and willing, but she was tight and modesty aside, Damien knew he wasn’t exactly small. Also even as aroused as she was the spa water still diluted her lubrication somewhat. It took more than the little pulse of her feet on his legs to work his fully aroused cock into her sheath. He leaned over her, gripped the tub ledge with both hands and pushed. She dug her hands into the muscles of his ass and pulled.
“Yessss!” Her keening cry echoed his sibilant hiss. Damien couldn’t remember offhand the last time he’d gotten laid, but it must have been too long, based on the intensity of what he felt right now. Her inner muscles still rippled from her first orgasm and they stroked his cock like a thousand tiny fingers. He wasn’t going to last long. He pulled out slowly, then slid back in at an equally leisurely pace. At the same time he leaned over and took her lips. When she opened them to moan, he used the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, then began thrusting there too, his tongue fucking her mouth in time with his cock fucking her pussy.
He moved his hands off the ledge and gently removed the remaining nipple clamp, laying the chain beside her other toy. Then he reached down and filled each hand with one of her breasts. It delighted him that they spilled over the sides—and Damien had big hands. He drank in her squeals of pleasure as he rasped his thumbs across her beaded nipples. When he squeezed them between his thumbs and forefingers, he felt her inner walls clench with pleasure. The extra pulsing tugged at his shaft and she sucked hard on his tongue at the same time.
And that was all it took. His balls had drawn up tight and hard and with two more deep thrusts, they exploded, spurting jet after jet into her snug, welcoming heat. He broke their kiss to gasp for breath as he came, which allowed her wordless mewling cry to rise into the night. The rhythmic contractions of her pussy milked another stream from him though he could have sworn there wasn’t a drop of fluid left in his body. Sharp little teeth bit into his left pecs just above his nipple. Not hard enough to draw blood, but sufficient to have left a mark on a human.
Damien pulled her close against him as their orgasms both subsided. His hands stroked up and down the length of her spine. He buried his lips in her wealth of auburn hair, soaked in the scents of woman and garden and sex. Her legs loosened their grip on his waist, but he wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of her pussy—not yet. So he lifted her and turned, sitting down on the bench with Katie on his lap, his cock still hard and snuggled up inside her.
“Katie.” He whispered her name, just to hear the sound of it on his lips. Then a reluctant chuckle rumbled out of his chest.
“What?” Her voice was practically a purr. With her arms around his back, her knees bracketing his thighs and her pussy still pulsing with aftershocks it felt like Damien was being wrapped in a whole body hug.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had a welcome like this before. And I have to admit, there’s a bit of me that hopes you don’t welcome all your new tenants like this.” Which was entirely too strange. He’d never felt possessive of a woman before, let alone one he’d known for less than twenty minutes.
She laughed back and the vibrations tickled him from knees to nose. Damn, it felt good to sit here with her and relax and laugh. “No. Rest assured this was a first.” Then she pulled her face out of his chest and looked up at him, her expression suddenly serious. “I’m not like this, Damien. Not at all. I’m not sure I can even begin to explain what just happened here.”
He leaned down and placed a short, soft kiss on her dark, swollen lips. “You mean what’s still happening?” He flexed his hips, let his cock stroke her inner folds. “It’s not my normal style either, I promise. But when I walked up here and saw you there… I’m not sure what kind of magic you were working, but no force on earth could have kept me away. Not unless you’d told me no.” He hoped he’d have had enough self-control to respect a turndown. But it would have been a damn near thing.
“It wasn’t any magic of mine. At least nothing conscious.” She lifted up on her knees a little, then slid back down on his cock. “But, goddess, it feels good. I can’t say I’m sorry that you found me up here. The mayor said you wouldn’t be here ’til tomorrow.”
He hesitated. Pendleton had left it up to Damien how much information to share with his landlady. But he figured the woman whose tongue was now in his ear deserved at least part of the truth. “Yeah. Well, I have a little trouble traveling in the daytime. I’m much more myself at night.”
She pulled back and placed one hand on each of his ears while she studied his face. “You’re not a vampire?”
“No.” He could understand her fear. Vamps, in Damien’s experience, were nasty sons of bitches, with no sense of morality at all. If one of those bloodsuckers had found her here, she’d already be a limp and empty husk. That prospect sent a chill of rage and horror skittering down Damien’s spine. What the hell was happening here? He’d just met the woman and already he felt like throwing up at the concept of losing her? Damien needed to find what he was after and get the hell out of here fast, before it was too late.
If it wasn’t already.
“I’m not a vamp. I’m a gargoyle.” He hadn’t intended to tell her, at least not yet. Certainly not while he was still stuffed up inside her.
“A gargoyle? How cool. I’ve never met a gargoyle before. At least not as far as I know.” She rocked back and forth, creating an exquisite friction that aroused and caressed his penis without the urgency of that first frenzied fuck.
“There aren’t all that many of us.” Boy, was that an understatement. The horrific decline of the gargoyle population was why he’d been sent here, to find the first of the four missing artifacts.
“Do you turn to stone? The rest of you I mean.” Her giggle was warm, sweet, teasing. “I already know that part of you does.”
“I can.” He stood, lifting her in his arms, careful not to dislodge his cock from inside her pussy. She wrapped both arms and legs around him and hung on, apparently comfortable letting him relocate them both.
He’d spotted a padded wooden lounger just a few feet from the hot tub. This time he wanted to fuck her in a horizontal position. It didn’t even occur to him that it was January and the air ought to be cold. He sat, bringing her down on top of him. Then as soon as he was sure they’d settled, he rolled them both, bringing his own body over hers, his chest levered up by his elbows on either side of her neck.
“You don’t sound nearly as freaked out as you should be,” he murmured, starting a slow, steady thrust and retreat. “Most humans would be running down the stairs screaming right now.”
“I’m not freaked out at all. I know other non-humans. Mayor Pendleton has a habit of collecting us for his task forces.” She bent her knees to cradle his hips while her hands stroked through his shoulder-length hair.
“Us?” He lowered his lips to trace the shell of her ear, loved the little shiver that skittered through her whole body when he swirled his tongue inside. “So what are you besides a sexy witch? Water nymph? Succubus?”
She wore a long jeweled chain around her neck. It had been draped down her back, but she had turned it as they walked so the ends now hung almost to her navel. He played with it, dragging the gems around and across her nipples. She was whimpering now, but she was still trying to get the words out. “Only a witch. But the hereditary kind, not just a practitioner. A little bit of earth spirit somewhere back in the bloodlines.”
“Mmm. Earth and stone. No wonder we fit together so well.”
He wasn’t kidding. No man had ever filled her as perfectly as Damien did. The broad head of his cock went deep, nudging the entrance to her womb with every thrust. He was so thick her tissues had to stretch to accommodate him and he curved just enough to fit her pussy like a key into a lock. His weight on her lower body was heavenly and what he was doing to her nipples with the necklace was so far beyond the sensation of her silver clamps that she couldn’t begin to compare them.
He kept fucking her with the same deliciously unhurried pace,
even after he had her squirming and moaning beneath him. His balls slapped audibly against her ass and his pelvis ground down on her aching clit each time he pushed inside. Her nipples were so hard they hurt and every rasp of the gold chain was like a lightning bolt zinging straight through her body to her core. Unbelievable tension coiled in her womb and tightened her spine. And still he kept stroking, hard, deep and excruciatingly slowly.
She lay splayed on the lounger like some sort of primitive virgin sacrifice. Her feet hung over the edge and her hands fisted in the cushions. Her hips rose to meet his with increasing need.
“Damien!” she cried out, her body trying to crest a peak that was just out of reach. She leaned up and tugged one of his flat nipples into her mouth then bit down just enough to get his attention before she fell back against the lounge.
“Is that what you want?” he asked. “You want my mouth on you?”
“Please.” Her voice came out as shallow gasp. “Suck me, Damien. Please!”
“With pleasure, mon ange.” He wrapped the gold chain of her necklace around one nipple and tugged it tight, then leaned down and took the other sensitive peak between his lips. He didn’t waste time, just did exactly what she wanted and drew hard, pulling her breast deep into the warm recesses of his mouth. The pressure was precisely what she liked—firm and steady and just this side of pain.
At the same time he pulled at the chain, stimulating the other nipple as well. Then he quickened the pace of his hips, driving faster and unbelievably deeper into her. When he added his teeth and bit down, she screamed his name and came, her inner walls convulsing around him as a fresh rush of cream coated his shaft. He nipped again and rammed himself up inside her channel, then held himself deep while she felt the hot gush of life-giving seed fill her womb. She pulsed around him as he spurted, the contractions caressing him and prolonging the pleasure for them both.
* * * * *
“Well, do you think we can make it all the way off the roof this time?” They lay on their sides on the lounge, facing each other and fighting for breath.
“Umm-hmm. Assuming I can manage to stand.” Katie raised a hand to caress the rugged line of Damien’s jaw. “How about you?”
“If there’s any possibility of a snack down there, I think I can convince the muscles to work.” Damien toyed idly with the ends of Katie’s hair. His stomach rumbled loudly, punctuating his response.
“Well, if gargoyles don’t mind grilled cheese or tomato soup, I think we can arrange that.”
“Sounds fine to me. And no, we don’t eat gravel or sand, or anything like that.” He stretched then clambered to his feet before reaching out a hand to help Katie off the lounge. They gathered her basket and his clothing then turned off the hot tub and the lights before descending the staircase.
Once they reached the kitchen, Katie drew her loose cotton robe out of her basket and slipped it over her head while Damien pulled on a pair of supple black leather pants. He set the matching heavy boots and bomber jacket aside while she turned to the refrigerator.
“Do you have a motorcycle?” The thought of him riding a big powerful bike was unexpectedly exciting. In the bright light of the kitchen he was even more handsome. He stood easily over six and a half feet tall, with thick-lashed gray eyes and silky straight black hair that fell loose to his shoulders. His face was a sculptor’s masterpiece, all sharp angles and long lines. The smooth planes of his chest and abs were positively mouthwatering and it took a great deal of effort to make herself look away.
“Oui.” Without another word he moved around the counter and almost automatically began to help her assemble the sandwiches. Their motions fell into an instant, easy harmony.
“Will you take me riding?” Katie finished slicing the homemade bread and began to coat the slices with butter.
“As soon as we get you a helmet.” He topped the slices of bread with thick slabs of cheddar and provolone.
His instinctive protectiveness made her smile. “Do gargoyles need helmets?”
He shrugged in a manner that was almost more French than his faint accent. The mayor had told her he was from Montreal. “Need? Probably not. Even in human form, we’re much tougher than the average person. But I wear one when I ride. Getting your skull caved in still hurts, even if it doesn’t kill you.”
“You said you can turn into stone, but you sure feel like flesh and blood to me.” She transferred the first two sandwiches to a heavy cast-iron griddle, then placed a plastic container of leftover tomato basil soup into the microwave.
“It’s a rest state.” Damien uncorked the bottle of white wine she’d handed him and poured two glasses. “If we’re injured, we can turn to stone and our bodies repair themselves.”
“That’s cool. Can you show me sometime, or do you have to be hurt to do it?” She didn’t like that idea, not at all.
“Entering the stoneshape is voluntary, but my body won’t let me change back until it is fully healed. So I’d rather not demonstrate tonight. As tired as I am, it would probably be a while and I’d much rather recuperate by curling up next to you.”
Katie flipped the sandwiches and smiled. “I think I like that idea better too.”
Chapter Three
Sleeping next to Katie was possibly the second best sensation in the world. Fucking her was without a doubt number one.
Damien knew he needed to be out of her sight before dawn, so he’d set the alarm on his cell phone to give him a half-hour leeway. If their relationship went any further, he’d have to let her see him by daylight eventually, but no way was he ready for that after only one night. She’d told him the other room on this floor was the bedroom intended for him. He figured he could hide out there until nightfall.
Even after the near-silent buzz had wakened him though, he couldn’t bring himself to move. There was something so seductive about lying on silky cotton sheets with Katie warm and soft in his arms, her bright auburn head pillowed on his chest. They’d made love twice more last night after leaving the roof, once in the kitchen and once more here in her bed. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair. Moss and earth and spice.
Damien must have dozed off again, because when he opened his eyes, the first pale rays of dawn were filtering through the slats in the blinds. To horror, he felt his body beginning to change.
He tried to slip quietly from the bed but Katie’s long, lithe limbs were twined around his own. She stirred, sitting up and blinking as he rushed to disentangle himself.
“Damien, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, cherie. I just…need to use the bathroom.”
“Hmm. Then you’re heading the wrong direction. Nice wings, by the way.”
Merde! He’d turned his back to her, trying to flee the room. “I need to go.”
“Damien. Relax.” She moved up behind him and circled his waist with her arms, rubbing her soft cheek on the leathery surface of his demonic wings. He wondered if she’d also spotted the long tail that he tucked forward between his ankles. Since she hadn’t run screaming yet, probably not. “So this is why you travel at night.”
“Yeah.” He knew his voice was deeper and huskier in this form. Hell’s teeth, she was dropping butterfly kisses on the pointed tips of his wings. “It tends to frighten the tollbooth workers on the turnpike.”
“I’ll bet.” Her gentle chuckle was a benediction, warm and curious but completely lacking the fear or disgust he’d expected. “So this happens every morning?”
“Sunrise to sunset.” Oh, fuck! Now her busy hands had found his tail and were exploring it. She traced her fingers along the coiled muscle down to the barbed tip. This was probably not the time for him to mention that when he was in demon shape, his tail was an erogenous zone. Of course, he’d never had a chance to prove that except by himself. He’d never fucked another gargoyle and he’d never let a human woman see him like this.
“Turn around, Damien.”
“No.” He knew the front was even more horrific than the b
ack. Even some of his own kind found him painful to look at.
“Damien.” She kissed the ridge of his spine, then moved her hands to his hips, forcing him to either fight her or turn. “I know it’s too early to talk about this, but I fell in love with you last night. And the man I fell in love with just happens to be a gargoyle. I don’t know much about what that means, but apparently this is part of it. I do know that under this thick gray skin, you’re the same man who held me through the night.”
“Gargoyles are part demon,” he told her. “A curse of our race.” But slowly, he did turn. And forced himself to look into her grass-green eyes.
“And you said it was bad!” She tsked and shook her head, still studying him carefully. He followed her gaze, knew she’d seen the horns that poked through his hair, the heavier brow ridge and protruding jaw. Fangs poked out from both upper and lower lips. “Goddess, Damien, you still have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”
Stone and Earth Page 2