by Elle Lincoln
Before he takes over.
I lean down, licking from base to tip, before finally sliding down his cock. His groan is everything I need to hear and I suck, creating that vacuum to make him feel like I’m trying to turn him inside out. My hands cup his balls, their weight warm and heavy in my small hands. I can’t swallow him and he threatens to choke me, but he holds his body completely still.
That just won’t do. Not at all. I run my tongue up and down inside my mouth, sucking. Gliding. Teasing. Until he finally jerks his hips into a rhythm that’s uncontrolled and selfish.
I moan my approval, but his hands in my hair yank, pulling the strands from their follicles. I glance up, and before I can smile, he has me flipped and my shirt is torn from my body. He looks at my sports bra with complete confusion.
“What the hell is this?” His body is coiled, his muscles thickening. I glance down. Yep, that too.
I lift the sports bra over my head, the fabric scratching my skin as I tear it from my body. “If you keep growing, you’re going to break me,” I warn.
He closes his eye, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
“You break me with your mouth.” I laugh at that, and then I realize there are many things this century owns that can drive him to the brink. I can’t wait to show each one to him.
My thoughts cease as he descends on my body, his lips sucking a pink nipple into the depths of his warm mouth. I lean back down, holding his head in place, making sure he follows. His other hand works at the button on my pants before ripping them off.
His eyes darken at my bare core—we haven’t had time to buy new underwear.
“I want...” His hands fist once more, his eyes glued to the tuft of hair hiding me from view.
I lift my legs, spreading them so he can see exactly what he’s done. I can feel the wetness glide down my skin to drip between my ass cheeks.
“To go slow,” he growls. “But not tonight.”
His lips find mine once again and I’m lost. His body covers mine, each strand of hair tickling my skin with each heated glide.
“I need you inside me.” It’s been far too fucking long. My body aches and I twitch, needing to ease the pressure building inside of me. Everything burns and pulses with a need far greater than I’ve ever experienced before.
I reach down between us, gripping him, pulling on him, demanding he give me exactly what I fucking want.
He pulls away from my lips, and I reach up and bite him. His eye stares down at me, his body poised just above mine. I shift my hips, tilting up until his tip glides between my lips.
“Don’t make me wait.”
He pushes forward, his body filling me with excruciating slowness. He pulls out then in, on a slow glide. Easing his way inside my body. Each small thrust lights up a thousand nerves. My body coils and spasms, until he finally pushes all the way in, seated deep inside me.
Neither of us moves, and our bodies glisten with sweat as we simmer in the feel of intimacy. I nudge my power to wake up, to feel what is hers. Ours. The dark entity stretches and growls, becoming all too aware of each little spark of desire. She dives inside him, stroking the soul that lives within. And for the first time, I feel his power, his leashed beast.
I hear him wake up and snarl, scratching to the surface. Needing to feel, to breathe, to sate his lust.
“What have you done?” Balor groans, before his hips shift back and slam home again and again. Creating a punishing rhythm for my invasion.
But I’m too far lost, my body is awake and alive and seeking out its own pleasure. Spiraling out of control as power bleeds into man and woman alike, uniting us as one. Until I feel him as he moves inside me. His pants become my own, our breath heating the air with humidity.
Until every nerve lights on fire and comes apart at the seams. My world blanks out and my body becomes nothing but a weightless soul. Pleasure courses through me, far greater than that of puny mortal me. This. This is what living is for. What dying is for. This intimacy we have created and luxuriated in.
My soul slowly returns, his hips still pumping a chaotic rhythm until he stills, and his roar shakes the house. My body cradles him, milking out each little drop he has in offering.
Our bodies still, his forehead on mine. Sweat beads and trails from his body to mine. Tickling the skin and nerves alike. It’s damn near too much and I groan. He slides to the side, pulling me with him. My lids are already growing heavy as he pulls a blanket over us.
His lips brush my forehead and I’m lost to him, his warmth and his comfort. For the first time in a week, I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 13
Bette
A New Day, A New Battle
Sleep melts from my consciousness on a slow glide. The ebb and flow is like a gentle rocker that lulls me in, and then out. My body, well rested, wakes with light ease. My breath deepens and syncs with the body lying beside mine. I snuggle in closer as memories of last night taunt and tease my waking mind, waking my body further.
My eyes flutter open to smooth muscle and small hairs that tickle my nose. If this is how I wake up every morning, I’ll be one happy girl. I reach across Balor, hugging him closer as though he may get up and wander away from me. Movement is inevitable, but this feeling can stay for just a little bit longer. This closeness I crave.
“You’re awake.” The low timbre of his voice reverberates through me, and I move my head off his chest to look up at him. His icy eye gazes at me with contentment that I not only see, but feel.
“I am.” I lean up, my breasts rubbing across his chest, teasing my nipples. Moaning, I brush my lips across his, ignoring the harsh scent of morning breath.
His hands grip my hips, and move me with little effort up his body where I straddle his growing erection. As I deepen the kiss, a knock on the door has me groaning in frustration.
“No more! We cannot take anymore!” Patrick’s loud voice rattles my bones with his annoyance.
“What the hell is that about?”
Balor chuckles, the sound making him irresistible. I lean in once more but he turns away to lift me up, and settles my naked ass on my bed. Kneeling between my legs, his gaze trails down to the junction of my thighs.
“No.” He shakes his head and snaps my legs shut, growling at me. “We have a small problem, temptress. Shower. Dress. Then meet us downstairs.” He places a chaste kiss across my lips, grabs his kilt, and flees like I’m some kind of poisonous snake.
Well, okay. Not how I thought the morning after would go, but I refuse to feel shame of any kind. Instead, I get up and rifle through my old clothes, looking for something other than what the guys have snagged for me here and there.
And underwear. Oh, blessed underwear, how I have missed you so. Lace and silk and cotton, oh my! I grab a matching black lace set—hoping it will fit me—jeans and a tee, and I grab a quick shower.
I want to linger under the hot spray that eases my muscles and chases away the darkness invading my thoughts, but worry nags my belly over what has happened, and anxiety burns my throat. I spend just a little bit of extra time removing the insane knots in my hair. Conditioner is a thing of beauty and I’m so glad Grandma kept this room stocked. Or not, I think this is the same conditioner I had from high school.
I shake away any thoughts of old conditioner and soap, just thankful to be clean. As I turn off the water, raised voices reach me in tones of anger and surprise. Maybe even a dash of whininess. Truly worried now, I speed up the process. Drying myself in record time, dressing and braiding my hair, I catch a small glance of myself in the mirror, still annoyed by the change in my eye color.
But I don’t dwell, no the guys are fighting louder. I rush from the room, taking the stairs two at a time. As I near the kitchen all voices stop and five sets of eyes stare at me with varying emotions. I’m not sure what’s happened but I’m rather confused. I fist my hands and place them on my hips, attempting to look intimidating in the face of these guys.
/> “What happened?” I look at Patrick because he’s the one who knocked on the door earlier, demanding we get the hell up.
“You are the problem!” Casseus growls, yanking at his hair and flinging pieces out as he chews on a toothpick. Oh no. What the hell did I do?
I stare at him in innocence, because really I don’t know what is happening right now. My eyes go wide and I pout my lips just a little bit.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Patrick points a finger at me. His hair is in disarray as well, and his pants are unbuttoned and his suspenders are in loops at his side. He’s bare-chested and I get slightly distracted making shapes out of all his freckles. Is that Orion’s belt there across his Adonis belt? “Bette!” My eyes jerk up to his, and I find a fire burning in his hazel eyes.
“Hmmm?” I hum at him, hearing Mac laughing off to the side. I think he mumbles something about Patrick’s feathers finally being ruffled and I suppress a smile of my own, while trying to look as serious as fucking possible. It isn’t really working. I do try my best though.
Again, he points his finger at me, his face beet red as he stutters over his words. “You... You...”
“Let me,” Logan interjects. He’s shirtless also, wearing only a kilt. I do my best to keep my eyes above his waist as I wait for him to talk. He takes a long sip out of a mug, which I am assuming is coffee, but I could be wrong. “You linked everyone, yes?”
“I did.” Not sure where this is going.
“Right, so last night when you and Balor...” He trails off, setting his mug on the counter. He quickly bumps his fists together. His face gets bright red as now he sputters.
“What the hell is that?” I mimic the hand gesture and Mac groans. His body deflates into a seat and he bangs his head on the table.
“We all felt ye two,” Patrick supplies, finally figuring out how to actually talk.
Oh... Oh! My lips form a perfect ‘O’ and a giggle works its way up from my belly and passes my lips.
“Put that away or else I’ll be puttin’ it to good use,” Patrick grumbles, then pours himself a cup of coffee.
“He’s right. You’re distracting,” Casseus adds, looking as though he has calmed down a bit, but he’s still gnawing on his toothpick.
I shrug, it isn’t like I planned this. Any of this. It just sort of happened, but I’d be a fool if I said I wasn’t enjoying it a little bit—maybe a lot. Either way. I like having them on their toes. Flustered and perhaps a bit horny.
I decided to ask the one question that slips in and out of my mind on occasion. “So, are you all okay with this?” Way to word the question you really want an answer to.
“What do you really want to know, Bette?” Casseus and his devilish smile know exactly what I mean.
I roll my eyes and try to stand tall, even while my mouth flounders over the questions I need answered. Instead of using words, I point to me then to each of the guys. “Ya know!” This is not in relationships 101.
Balor just shrugs, and I give him the death glare. “It works.” Oh, so we are back to short answers and frustration. Fine.
I glare at Patrick. “I was ready to join ye last night.” Another shrug.
Where is the emotion? Anger? I look at Mac. Surely he will give me an actual answer.
He blushes and side-eyes Cas. I interrupt before he can even speak. “I know what you two have been up to.”
Cas laughs and Mac gives me that crooked smile I love so much. “You’ll see no complaints from us two. I like this situation. I like seeing people every day that would have my back if I needed it. And do.”
“Friendship is... it’s nice.” Balor nods, and my heart gives a small pang. I know he had a rough life before his imprisonment and that being secluded for so long changed him, made him into a different man.
Is that what they see? A family? I look at Logan. “Have you decided if you want to be a part of this, because I don’t think I can reverse it, and you saw the consequences.” Those being sexual awareness.
Logan looks at me with more ease than he did yesterday, but I don’t think he’s quite there yet. “I don’t know. It’s a commitment.” I get it. Again, his past is riddled with winding paths and potholes.
“Where’s my grandma?” I decide a topic change will do us good. At least until I can figure out a solution to them feeling my every emotion, including, but not limited to, orgasms. I kind of don’t want to though. I’ll shelve it for now and make a final decision later.
“Out, she was up and gone at sunrise,” Logan answers. I’m guessing since he slept outside all night, he would have been the first to notice her leave.
“Good. Balor mentioned that maybe using a witch will help release the Sluagh from the stone.” I worry my lip, realizing I left them in the car. I’m a terrible mother.
Casseus pulls the stone from a pocket in his cargo pants. “Got ‘em.” He studies the stone with longing evident on his face. “Bette, we need to eat.” He coughs at that, giving Logan an uneasy look.
He’s right though. I haven’t had a good meal since the other week and still, I used all of that energy to heal me. “A hunting we will go?” I ask hopefully.
He smiles behind his mug. “We planned to scout the area today. Your grandma left us a cell phone, she texted for us to pick up the surveillance equipment at a local hardware store. I figured we could get it and see what walks around Asheville.”
That sounds glorious. I know what walks around Asheville, I know all the hidden corners and secret alleyways. I smile at the promise of a sinful meal to fill my soul and my Sluagh.
“Thought you’d enjoy that.” Casseus winks before stalking off. “Shower’s mine.”
“Alright, so there is that.” I smile and sit at the table beside Mac.
“We plan to case a ten-mile radius. The edge of your grandma’s property.” Balor sets down his mug and sits beside me, his stomach rumbling.
I keep forgetting they need to eat actual food. “You hungry?” It’s rhetorical really, but I ask anyway.
“Yes.”
“Keep talking, I’ll make your food.” I get up and head into the kitchen, and begin to pull out what Grandma actually has—eggs, hash browns, and bacon. I’ll use it all up, but if this is now home base then we will have to fill up the pantry and fridge to suit hungry men. Except for Casseus, I think he only eats because it tastes good. Like me.
“We need a perimeter check for safety. We need to know if anyone crosses into our territory.” I don’t have the heart to tell him he sounds like a medieval war general.
Never mind, that’s exactly what he was. I wave my hand, hoping he carries on.
“Once we are set up, we do some research, which I’ve got Mac doing because he apparently understands these little boxes.” Balor points to a laptop sitting on the table.
I hide my smirk. “What are we looking for?”
“Clusters of missing persons. Then we scout the area. If someone goes missing under unusual circumstances, that become our main priority.” Mac fires up the laptop and I put bacon in the oven.
“So, we are still doing this? Still taking them out one by one. What if they are in the Realm? Hidden away from us?” I pause in cracking eggs.
“That is a possibility. But from my time under their thumb,” Logan growls the words, “they have places set up on this side as well as theirs.”
“Still no confirmation if they’re using humans for power?” A strange thought enters my head. “What if they are using them as a sacrifice to the Realm, hoping it stabilizes it?”
All eyes turn toward me. “Go on,” Balor encourages.
“I mean, if the realm is dying and they are kidnapping humans, then why? Especially children. Isn’t there a theory that the younger you are the easier it is to see that which adults cannot?” I don’t like it, but I make some sense, in a fucked-up kind of way. The Fae aren’t hidden but they are quick.
“Maybe. However, when I cornered those kids, we had to sniff certain ones out and we had direc
t orders not to harm them,” Logan chimes in, throwing all of our theories to the wayside.
“Then why?” I don’t get it.
“Bette, have you ever heard of the story of changelings?” Mac looks at me the way a professor would look at a failing student. I seriously need mythology 101.
“That’s a no.” I whisk my eggs. It wasn’t my thing even if it is now. I have a lot to catch up on.
“It’s always believed to be a myth, mainly because my kin are apparent idiots.” That is the first time I’ve heard Mac really sound bitter toward the rest of his lineage. “Apparently, the Fae would kidnap children from their cradles to raise as their own, leaving their own Fae child to be raised in this world.”
“Why? That sounds ridiculous.” And it does, it makes no sense, and either way you are raising a child.
“To maintain influential power in both worlds. Those Fae children grew up to be war heroes and kings. While their counterparts lived in luxury, but were unable to ever return to Earth.” I rub my temples. Information overload.
“How did they survive?” The flux in magic would surely kill any human as we witnessed with the young boy.
“Some smelled different,” Logan hedges, not giving an actual answer.
“Okay, moving on, I don’t think I grasp the why yet,” I mumble more to myself than to him.
“With a new era, and changes in technology and safety, their ability to enter homes became less frequent.” Mac sits back in his chair, his cream sweater bunching as he crosses his arms. “I have a theory about the children.”
All eyes snap to him. Casseus marches down the steps on thunderous feet, and from across the room, he yells, “If the realm is dying they can no longer have kids.”
“So they are kidnapping them instead?” At least they aren’t sacrificing them to some volcano god.
“Yes. But there are no Fae children to replace them with,” Mac finishes.