by Romi Hart
His briefs hid his package, but now she knew what she had to do. She took hold of his pants and slid them down to his knees. She took a firm grip on herself and hooked her thumbs into his briefs. She tugged them over his ass and his thick black cock flopped into her face.
It drooped under its own stiff weight. She gripped his thighs and her eyelids drifted half-closed when she dared to kiss it. Its smooth head brushed her lips and she almost died at the awesome masculinity of it.
His hand floated into her view and he cupped her chin. He steered that monstrous thing to her lips. Her mouth opened to receive it. Then it was inside her, in her mind and in her heart. She bathed it in saliva and adored it with lips and tongue. It felt more heavenly and intoxicating than she ever imagined. It filled her whole world with him and only him.
She rose on her knees and let it envelop her. She drifted in the bliss of sucking it, of engulfing his scent in her throat and stroking his shaft with every excited part of her mouth. She worked it as deep as it would go. His hair tickled her nose when she took him to the hilt. Then she dallied around the tip and stimulated the head with ecstatic sucks and licks.
His breath rasped and his muscles strained. He caressed her cheek and guided her to take every brutal inch. She melted before the pure animal glory of pleasing him in her mouth.
He whispered to her, but she couldn’t hear the words. She didn’t need to hear. His voice urged her on. Her saliva dribbled down her chin all mixed up with his jiz. It spattered over her breasts and trickled down her belly to her pussy. It lit her on fire with erotic energy.
She didn’t know the moment she climaxed from the sheer pleasure of sucking him. She only knew her throat opened in a wordless scream carrying her far away from this world. She couldn’t stop taking him, taking him, taking him. She swam in delirious bliss holding him in her throat while she spasmed all over.
He didn’t grab her by the hair and blow into her mouth right away like so many other guys. He stood up tall and straight gazing down into her fathomless eyes. He observed her worshiping in abject submission before the altar of cock. He didn’t flinch. He could stand there all day long letting her adore him.
The longer it went on, the more she threw herself into the rapture of venerating his manhood, his matchless self-control, his ethereal power. It poured down her throat when she sucked him. It bowed her to the ground to revere him with her heart and soul.
All too soon, he hooked his hands under her armpits and lifted her to her feet. She almost mourned to release that slab of meat from her worshipping lips, but he occupied them with kisses without a blink of a pause.
He caught her in his overpowering presence, but he didn’t leave her to enjoy it. He picked her up the way he did before. He wrapped her around his solid body. She locked her ankles around his back and his naked cock found her dripping slit waiting for him.
She stared in blank astonishment at those matchless black eyes, watching him move in to her destruction. She shuddered at the horrible tightness of his thick member breaking her open. The next minute, it blasted a torrential avalanche of pleasure and heavenly bliss into her.
She gasped out loud, but he swallowed the sound into his mouth. He guided her down on his shaft and her golden honey gushed over his distended veins. He lowered her weight to slide all the way inside her and she swooned at the voluptuous passion of it all.
Again and again, he plowed to her very limit. Each time, she quaked to her soul wondering if this was the time she would go insane from his catastrophic potency. Each time, she survived it only to suffer the same shattering cataclysm at his next thrust.
A pained cry pealed from her mouth. Was that her sounding so fragile and raw? She was fragile and raw. He made her that way. He made her cry and whimper for him even as she wanted to flee from dissolving in his hands.
His fingers grazed her ragged slit behind her back. Her juice smeared across her ass and her flesh burst into flame. Every sweltering ripple of his stomach rocketed her into dreamy delight that obliterated her mind. What was happening to her? What was he doing to her?
Her clit raking his coarse hair drove her crazy. She couldn’t hold back grinding her pubic bone against it and whining in one tiny maddening climax after another. She couldn’t exactly distinguish one from the other. She didn’t blast into outer space. She just dangled there in an orgasmic cloud from which she could never return. Would she ever return?
He broke out in sweat and sealed her damp thighs to his hips. She couldn’t move as well, but she didn’t have to. His thickness inside her kept her hovering in that strange world of insanity and rapture.
Somewhere in all that bewildering upheaval, he sank to his knees in the soft grass. She thumped down on his cock and it stabbed deeper than ever. It shot her into the stars for a brief instant. The next minute, her weight came to rest on it. It drilled to her innermost anatomy and she couldn’t stop the chain reaction.
She exploded jerking and kicking and convulsing out of control. She tossed against his grip, but he held her down on that blistering shaft against all the awful energy coursing through her. She couldn’t stop staring into his eyes seeing the cosmos crashing down around her ears.
His fingertips guided her spine to undulate against his shaft. He supported her when her sinews melted at the tremors shaking her apart at the seams. Her pussy oozed around his thick cock and her inner muscles quivered down its length. She couldn’t stop groaning feeling her very self falling apart in his hands.
12
A smoky moon sailed high in the starry sky. It shone through the window frame where the glass no longer blocked out the night air. It cast a ghostly silver square on the abandoned cabin’s rotten wooden floor.
Finn stood in the doorway and peered at Claire Novak lying asleep on the bed. Her golden hair splayed over the pillow behind her white face. Her leather jacket kept her warm since the bed had no blankets.
Finn sighed to himself. He did it with her and it was no mistake. Now he could never get free of her. He gave in to his impulses. He shared bodily fluids with her. They shared a whole lot more than that.
He could never get away from her now. Maybe he never could. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t belong to her, body and soul. She could snap her fingers and make him buckle.
Standing in this cabin door, he couldn’t bring himself to regret…any of it. He couldn’t wish he never met her. She destroyed the comfortable routine in which he conducted his whole life right up until the day he walked into her father’s office. He got any woman he wanted. He could convince them to do anything for him, even illegal things they revolted against doing.
All that was gone now. No one existed for him but her. He would sacrifice anything to see her on her knees in front of him again. He would hazard any danger to see her opening her mouth to suck him like that again. He would throw off family, Crest, home—anything.
He couldn’t regret any of that. Neither could he wish he’d never done it with her. He didn’t wish that. He wanted to do it again and again and again. Doing it with her last night until they both collapsed from exhaustion wasn’t enough. It left him desiring her as much or more than when she first kissed him. The more she touched him, the more she quivered against him, the more he wanted her. He wanted to feel her shivering and twitching and convulsing like that. Would it ever stop? Would she ever stop?
None of that mattered now because he would never stop. Whatever she did, he was in it up to his neck. He didn’t know how that would unfold and he didn’t really care. He was in it when he first met the Novaks. Somehow, they knew it and he didn’t. He couldn’t even resent them for knowing it or for doing something to make it happen.
None of that mattered. He was here with Claire. He wouldn’t leave to go back to Anarock unless she wanted to go there, too. Whatever she was doing, he was doing. Wherever she was going, he was going. He knew that now.
She stirred on the shabby old mattress. The irresistible force binding him to her drew
him across the room. He could tell himself it compelled him against his will, but he didn’t try to fight it. Why should he? Was this how Victor felt when he met Riley? Finn understood the events of that strange time so much better now.
He slipped onto the bed and wrapped himself around her. Her immaculate arms glided around his ribs and his shoulder cradled her golden head. She settled into slumber and he stroked that silken hair as smooth and delicate as spun gold. She breathed lower falling back to sleep.
All at once, she jerked upright crying out in shock. He brushed her hair back and caressed her cheeks. Her blue eyes sparkled staring into the moonlight. “It’s all right. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Her gaze snapped around the cabin. Without warning, she leaped up. “I have to go! I have to get that…..”
She fumbled getting off the bed and tripped. She slammed down on the floor. She bounced up and lunged for the door.
“Hey!” he called after her. “Where are you going?”
“I have to…” Her voice faded farther away until he couldn’t hear her. Silence descended outside. What was she doing?
He didn’t want to get up. He wanted to watch her sleep and think about everything, but that window closed for him. He hauled himself to his feet and returned to the door. The Quag throbbed out in the night. Creatures squeaked and chirped and croaked far out of sight.
He scanned the Quag for any sound of her. She was an elemental shifter. He had to keep reminding himself of that. She wasn’t a spoiled high-class princess from St. Charles Avenue. She was a shifter as powerful or more so than anyone in the Prometheus Crest. She could be halfway back to Anarock by now and he would never catch up to her.
Footsteps shuffled several dozen yards away and receded as he listened. What was she doing? She wasn’t flying home. She was walking through the Quag. Why?
He set off down an island of dry land among thousands of square acres of swamp. He flanked the river until he caught up with her. She hiked through underbrush skirting bogs and sinkholes.
He trailed her for more than a mile. She navigated the shadowy swamps with unerring accuracy without seeming to test the ground in front of her. How could she detect the ground changing under her feet before she took each step? No one in the Prometheus Crest could do that.
She forged her own path without any outward sign of a plan, but he something deeper guided her. The first streaks of dawn stained the sky before she halted near an inland lake. She gazed across it.
Finn stayed behind her to see what she would do. “What are you looking for? I told you that guy was in jail. You won’t find him out here.”
“There’s another one,” she murmured. “I picked up his trail back at the truck, but I lost him trying to track that moron. That was a mistake.”
Finn frowned. “How do you know there was another one?”
She didn’t turn around. He could make out the detail of her hair in the rising light. “Think about it. Some mutant transported that truck into the Quag and it definitely wasn’t Juan Diego.”
“If it wasn’t him, who was it? What did you hire him for if not to transport the truck there?”
“Juan Diego is human,” she replied, “at least, he was. He must have gotten a mutant to transport the truck into the Quag for him and it wasn’t that other guy.”
“How do you know?”
She glanced over her shoulder and a demonic flash glinted in her eye. “You did NOT just ask me that.”
“Why not? Why didn’t I just ask you that?”
She pivoted around and walked around him, but she brushed against him in a way that told him to go with her. “I picked it up through the air. The first guy we saw around the truck was a mutant, but he’s a magic wielder of less-than-average abilities. He couldn’t transport that truck.”
“Then….” Finn faltered and checked behind him. “Why don’t you….?” He couldn’t think of what to suggest. He turned around to find her studying him with her head on one side. “What?”
She paused a moment. Then she strode toward him. Her eyes glittered more fiercely than ever. “You don’t have to stay out here. I can handle this on my own. If you have any second thoughts, go on and fly home. I won’t hold it against you.”
The minute those words crossed her lips, he knew he wouldn’t do that. He peered down into her clear, mesmerizing features. “What is it you’re not telling me? What is it you’re telling me to go home to hide from me?”
This time, she broke into a bright, blushing grin. She bowed her head and her eyelids dipped over her crimson cheeks. “I never could pull anything over on you. All right. I’ll tell you. I’m an air shifter. I can shift into air and I can detect everything the air touches. That’s my power.”
He blinked at her. “Are you serious? You can do all that?”
“Whoever transported that truck lifted it up, carried it through the air, and set it down in the Quag without disturbing any of the ground around it.”
“I noticed that.”
“Only another air shifter could do that.” She closed her eyes and held up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say a lot of other shifters or magicians could do it and you’re right, but they didn’t. I smelled blood around the truck and it came from my cousin Dorian. I hired Juan Diego to steal that truck. I’m guessing he contacted either my daddy or my uncle Julio about getting someone from SeamStream Crest to transport it for him. They assigned Dorian to do it and he did. Then our friend from yesterday caught him and shot him. He left Dorian for dead somewhere out here in the Quag and then hid near the truck to bump off Juan Diego, too.”
Finn gaped at her trying to take all this in. “But it wasn’t our friend who shot Juan Diego. It was those soldiers.”
“They surprised him and us at the same time. They shot Juan Diego, but that didn’t have anything to do with the truck. They were hunting the Omega Battalion.”
“You keep saying that.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. “Juan Diego got caught in the crossfire, but I have to find Dorian. He’s out here somewhere.”
“He could be dead by now,” Finn pointed out. “If he was shot yesterday morning and he’s been out here all this time, how do you know he’s still alive? He could have flown home to Anarock.”
She shook her head and traced the woods behind him. “He’s out here.”
She took off at a brisk clip again. Finn hustled to catch up with her. “How do you know?” He began to understand how ridiculous those words sounded?
“The blood at the truck was peripheral. It came from an arm or a leg. It didn’t come from any major organ.”
This time, Finn stopped himself from asking how she knew that. She could detect anything that touched the air. That didn’t leave very much to the imagination, did it?
“He walked away from the truck. He’s been walking all this time dripping blood. I’m following the drops.”
Finn surveyed the ground passing under his feet. He couldn’t see drops of blood in this swamp, but he could have smelled them in his dragon form. She could pick up a single drop of blood anywhere as long as it was touching the air.
“Why doesn’t he shift? Why doesn’t he fly out of here?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “Something happened to him to stop him from shifting—something a lot worse than getting shot. The wound isn’t life-threatening, but he can’t shift. He’s trying to get to safety.”
“If that’s true, why don’t you use your power to detect where he is? He’s touching the air so you should be able to find him.”
She halted with her back to him. He couldn’t read her expression. “Whatever stopped him from shifting is blocking me from picking him up. I have to find him the old-fashioned way.”
“You can’t detect him but you can detect drops of his blood?”
“That’s right.”
Finn skidded to a halt and looked around him. “We’ve been heading north. He should be going back toward Anarock. G
oing north will only take him farther into the Quag. Where does he think he’s going to get help up there?”
“He’s looking for Isabella.”
He spun around to see Claire’s back walking away from him. Her blonde hair swung against her leather jacket. He wanted to call her back, but his throat wouldn’t obey him. He couldn’t make a sound.
That name clanged down to his soul. Isabella. Dorian Novak was going to find Isabella. Of course.
Claire kept up her inexorable march. If she knew that much, why didn’t she shift and fly to Isabella right now? What on Earth was she doing trekking through the Quag following drops of blood?
He didn’t have to ask. She was following Dorian’s trail in case she found him passed out somewhere between here and Isabella’s house.
He started after her, but he didn’t bombard her with questions now. He turned the problem over in his mind. Claire hired this Juan Diego character to steal a truck loaded with merchandise from crooked suppliers in Mexico. Juan Diego enlisted Dorian to fly the truck into the deep Quag. They hid it until his relatives in Anarock could pay and take possession.
Then this chump turns up, shoots Dorian, leaves him for dead, and scuttles back to the truck to ambush Juan Diego himself. If Claire knew all that from sniffing the air—or, more aptly, being the air—that explained how these Novaks knew absolutely everything about everyone in Anarock. They must be positively omnipotent.
What about Lucy and her brothers? What kind of elemental shifter was Bernard? Finn hated to ask. He didn’t want to know the answer to any of that. How could the Prometheus Crest or any other Crest stand against mutants as powerful as this? They couldn’t. Not even NightRage could hold a candle to them.
No wonder SeamStream declined to involve themselves in other Crests’ problems. Why on Earth would they want to hitch their wagon to someone else’s star? They didn’t have to worry about the military or the Omega Battalion or the Blood Kin or anybody else on the face of the Earth or anywhere else in the cosmos. No one could raise a finger against them.