Hard as Rock

by Stephanie West

  “Roc!” she snapped in warning, but he ignored it.

  Her ecstatic cry echoed off the walls when he slipped two cubes into her tight little ass and another in her pussy. Roc quickly crammed his aching cock into the mouth of her trembling vagina before she pushed the ice out. He reveled in the way her delicious shriek deepened, and how her hot, wet slit grasped him. It was as painful as it was glorious. If it weren’t for the ice teasing his crown as he pressed in, he would’ve burst instantly.

  “It’s too much, Roc, I can’t take it,” she cried.

  A twisted part of him loved hearing her ardent cries as he tested the bounds of ecstasy. But she wasn’t the only one being pushed to the limit. Through the thin trembling membrane, he felt the ice in her ass. Each time her pussy spasmed, the cold cubes slid along his overheated shaft. Hot and cold, it was a wonderful maddening mix of sensations.

  “Yes, you can. I’ll warm you up,” he husked, although what he had planned wouldn’t be a reprieve for either one of them.

  His tail snaked between her legs and worked its way into her ass, forcing the puckered ring of muscles to let him in. His demanding cock had her pussy straining, while his tail and the ice cubes stretched her virgin hole. Meline orgasmed, her stomach flexing spasmodically as he attempted to press deeper.

  “Fuck, angel,” he snarled, and his hips jerked, unable to control himself.

  Her mouth opened on a broken silent scream when he punched deep, burying himself to the hilt.

  He was a glutton for punishment. As he started fucking her, he couldn’t resist rubbing her pulsing clit with his thumb. The spasms in her vagina clenched his cock and tail painfully tight, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out or thrust back into her hot body, though the swiftly melting ice helped.

  “Roc. Fuck. Oh. God. Roc.” Meline sucked in gasping breaths.

  She was beyond sexy thrashing and calling his name. He quickly lost control, giving in to the dark need that drove him to possess and dominate her, so Meline knew once and for all she was his. Roc fucked her with abandon, pounding out his feral lust. He dropped forward and sucked the cold berry off one of her nipples as he repeatedly slammed home. The moment his hot tongue met her chilled nipple, Meline cried out again, all but her glorious wet pussy and tight rear going rigid. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she erupted, her channel flooding with more liquid desire. He gripped her splayed quaking thighs and swung his hips faster. The way she rhythmically clenched his cock, and her ass convulsed, impaled by his tail, made it impossible to stave off the fire churning out of control. His wings shot out as the orgasm surged up his spine. The force of it was blinding.

  “Mine!” He bucked and jerked as he roared from the ecstasy.

  meline

  “Angel, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Roc caressed her cheek as the world came back into focus, and Meline realized she was crying.

  “You didn’t. That was…” she panted.

  There weren’t words to describe what she felt. The intense ecstasy merged with the relief that Roc was going to be okay, making her feel delirious. She wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time.

  “Thank Lar.” Roc kissed her repeatedly, looking relieved as he untied her wrists.

  “And I’m much better now that I know you’re not dying,” she sobbed.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m okay.” He pulled her into his arms and Meline realized he’d already freed her legs. “I’m really hard to kill.” Roc cradled her against his chest as he strode to the living room and sat on the couch.

  “I can see that now.” But it didn’t make last night any less frightening.

  She trembled as she clung to Roc, stroking his bare chest as she examined him. The thought of losing him was devastating. It was hard to believe he was completely healed after the way he looked earlier. But his skin was warm and smooth again. His eyes were bright and filled with life as they flashed with concern for her.

  “It’s you I’m worried about. I thought the fire…” His voice wavered as he held her tight. “And I could’ve hurt you coming out of the duramna.”

  “But you didn’t, and we’re okay,” she laughed. It was crazy they’d survived. She shook her head in disbelief. “Although you were kind of freaky. You ate a glass bottle and got growly when I tried to take it from you.”

  “My kind does that. We need the minerals, especially when we have to heal fast. I really could’ve hurt you. Did you try to take it away? Is that why I tied you up?” he asked, looking very worried.

  “Not exactly. You did that when I tried to get you to eat something besides my lady bits.” She blushed, remembering how insistent Roc was at having his way with her.

  “Oh.” Roc cast her a cheeky grin. He then sighed, looking guilty.

  “What?” She caressed his stubbled cheek.

  “I should’ve had better sense when I came to and found you tied to the island. I should’ve checked you over, instead of giving in to the instinct demanding I claim you. I don’t know what’s come over me.” His hands roamed her naked body, checking for injuries.

  “Don’t be hard on yourself, you were out of it. I promise I’m fine. You found me just in time.” She kissed his collar bone, relieved that he was back to his old self.

  “You are fine.” His brow furrowed, looking just as confounded as she was about how she survived the fire without a scratch. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I was in the shed looking for a shovel and the next thing I know I’m waking up in a burning coffin with a body.” Meline shivered at the memory.

  Her hand drifted to the back of her head, but it no longer hurt, and the bump had gone away.

  “The bastards called, distracting me. They have John!” Roc snarled, his wings snapping to their full height as he suddenly recalled what else happened.

  “Oh God, no! I thought he was out doing errands when those creeps raided your penthouse.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  Please be okay. She really liked John.

  “Where’s my phone?” He looked around.

  “It’s in the SUV.”

  Roc cradled her tight against his chest as he stormed out of the living room.

  “Dammit, we didn’t have a chance to find the sigil. I have to get back to the cemetery. Sigil or not, the second those bastards text me an address, I’m going to rip their…”

  “Roc!” she shouted, interrupting his spiraling rant.

  His gaze darted to her in surprise. “They almost killed you. I won’t let that stand,” he growled, the skin on his face tightening, his brow sharpening.

  “The sigil’s in the Queens Museum,” she blurted before he started snarling murderous threats again. Although the people behind this more than deserved it.

  They kidnapped her new friend, hurt Roc and tried to kill her. She wasn’t nearly as invincible as Roc, but she was pissed. And they’re going to regret it.

  13

  Meline

  Roc was quiet as they drove. In fact, he’d been that way since their conversation about the sigil. He barely said two words when they showered, just kissing and touching her. Like he was reassuring himself she was okay. She understood, feeling somber herself. His touch brought her comfort and yet she was sad at the same time because they were hardly out of danger. They couldn’t even be contented by their small victory, discovering where the relic was and surviving the fire, not knowing if John still lived.

  It’ll be okay. We just need to be more alert. We’ll rescue John, retrieve the sigil before it goes supernova and Bob’s your uncle, all is well again. Meline attempted to get her nerves under control as the weight of the task ahead threatened to overwhelm her. No, no, we’re going to kick ass, she rallied. They’d made it this far.

  “It’s a good idea to ditch this car, they probably bugged it at the cemetery. But I think we could drive back to Quebec as fast as we can fly,” Meline commented as they pulled up to the airport outside Montreal.

  “We’re not going back to Quebe
c.” Roc drove onto the tarmac and headed for a small plane.

  “You want to go to New York first? I know the sigil’s dangerous and we need to get it back, but John’s more important! I don’t trust those people to keep their word, they tried to kill me. And I don’t have my passport, remember?” She frowned at Roc’s dispassionate expression. He knew how dangerous this crazy group was. They couldn’t leave John with them for a minute longer.

  God only knows what they’ve done to him. She couldn’t even think about it.

  Roc stopped the SUV and faced her. She didn’t like the stern expression on his face.

  “Meline, you’re going back to Connecticut.”

  “Wait, what?!” She gaped at him in confusion.

  “These people are serious. You nearly died once. I won’t risk it happening a second time. And I can’t be worrying about you while I take care of these bastards and get John back.”

  “So, you’re going in alone? I know you’re a badass but you’re not invincible.” She started to panic thinking of him getting hurt. “And don’t you think that if they found us once, they sure as hell can find me again?”

  “They think you’re dead and won’t have time to learn any differently. But just to be sure, I want you to stay with a friend for the next few days. The plane I chartered caters to clientele who like their privacy, so you won’t have any trouble crossing the border.”

  He got out of the SUV, effectively putting a stop to their argument. She hopped out before he could come around and open her door.

  “I’m not going home. We’re a team.” She understood he was worried about her. She was worried about him, too.

  Roc held up one hand, silencing her. He placed both palms on her cheeks and tipped her chin up. Before he kissed her, a heartbreakingly sad expression crossed his face. Instead of passion, his kiss was filled with longing, and she got the terrible feeling this wasn’t just goodbye for now.

  “Roc,” she whispered, her voice breaking as they parted. “I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

  He closed his eyes. His hand lingered on her cheek for a moment before stepping back. When he opened his eyes again, the usually bright gray had grown cold.

  “Meline, I am who I am. I lie and steal for a living. I hide from everyone and have to run from people like the ones who tried to kill you.”

  “I know who you are and you’re going to take care of those assholes,” she argued, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “And more will come, like they always do.”

  “I don’t care about any of that.” She stepped toward him. Her chest physically hurt.

  “But I do,” he snapped, making her freeze where she was. “This isn’t going to work, Meline. We both knew it from the start.”

  “Bullshit,” she countered, her chin quivering as tears filled her eyes.

  “Goodbye, Meline.”

  Her mouth hung open in shock as Roc strode back to the SUV, tears streaming down her cheeks. He didn’t even look back at her, just walked away from what they found together. Meline sucked in several ragged breaths and had to swallow down the bile rising in her throat as her heart shattered. There were so many things she wanted to say but was too stunned. She couldn’t even blurt out the three most important words.

  I love you.

  roc

  Roc watched the plane takeoff before launching into the air, abandoning the rental car. He couldn’t get the image of Meline out of his head, or the devastated tears filling her eyes, while he winged it toward Quebec. He was barely outside Montreal when he lost it. The anguished roar that burst from his throat sent birds fleeing from the trees.

  Walking away from Meline was the hardest thing he’d ever done; he’d sooner volunteer to be drawn and quartered. He was a selfish man and Meline was the ultimate prize. But for once in his life he couldn’t be greedy, not when keeping her would ultimately get her killed. Sending her away was enough to break him but watching her die would destroy him. He deluded himself thinking if he kept her near, he could protect her. Yet it took barely a moment for her to be ripped away in the cemetery. The memory of her trapped in that burning church crippled him with fear and filled him with rage, making it nearly impossible to fly. He couldn’t let that happen again, not now, not ever.

  She’s safer without me.

  Even if he could keep her out of danger every waking hour of every day, she’d be forced to hide like he did, living a lie, complicit in his life of crime. That was the last thing he wanted for her. Meline deserved better.

  The sun was setting over the skyline by the time he reached Quebec City. He expected a text message anytime now, it had been nearly twenty-four hours since the bastards first contacted him. Roc found himself gravitating toward the governor’s mansion excavation at the foot of Chateau Frontenac. He descended the steps below the boardwalk, bent and hummed into the lock securing the archaeological site. The padlock dropped open, he swung the gate wide and went inside. His eyes swiftly adjusted to the lack of light and Roc found the stone wall that always drew him.

  “I know where the sigil is. You’re going home, sire.” He listened closely for any sound to indicate his sire stirred somewhere inside the stone wall. “Did you hear me? You’re going home,” he repeated when there was no response.

  “Of course, you refuse to answer me. Why would you? I’m just your fucking son,” he snarled.

  This was the last straw. He felt raw. Saying goodbye to Meline ripped old wounds wide open and all the years of frustration, anger and hurt came pouring out.

  “You know what, I’m done trying. I’ve come here I don’t know how many times to talk to you. I know I was a disappointment. I know that everyday you looked at me you were reminded of the perfect progeny you left back home and the vow you broke with mum while you were stuck on this miserable planet,” he shouted at the silent stone wall as he paced.

  “Is this place so fucking awful that you couldn’t bear to wait for my return? ‘Cause I can think of at least one thing that makes this world a place worth living in.”

  And I lost it.

  Roc froze in his tracks as a terrible realization dawned on him. His sire was always such a miserable bastard, regretting every day on Earth, taking his mother for granted. It never occurred to him that losing Theresa devastated Petronus.

  “No, that’s wrong.” Roc shook his head, he did know her loss hurt his sire. “I just never understood the weight of your loss, not until now. And you didn’t just lose her, did you?” Petronus had lost not just one mate but two. Roc had lost Meline, but she still lived. He couldn’t imagine the grief and pain his sire suffered. “And then I left you.”

  Roc collapsed on the ground and frowned as he stared at the wall.

  “I’m sorry,” he sighed, this new understanding adding to his pain. “I’d really like to ask you how you dealt with what I’m feeling, except I think I know. But there’s still a chance for you to go home. Or maybe you can move over, so I can climb in there with you.”

  Still nothing stirred deep within the stony walls. He hung his head, feeling dejected.

  His cell pinged, and Roc glanced down at the message.

  ‘Are you ready to make a deal?’ The message was accompanied by a picture of John sporting a black eye.

  ‘Name the place.’ He snarled as he sent the reply.

  ‘Bring the relic to the abandoned pumping station at the old port, come alone.’

  “I have to go, sire, and try to save my friend.”

  Roc shouldered his bag, left the excavation and took off for the industrial sector down by the shore. He slowed midair and focused on the two-story building amid a field riddled with pipes. He didn’t see anyone lurking on the roof of the pumping station or the surrounding area, but that didn’t mean the kidnapping bastards were alone, like they demanded of him. It didn’t matter either way, they had John.

  He landed outside, retracted his wings and cautiously approached the abandoned building, every sense on high alert. No one gr
eeted him at the entrance. The instant he opened the doors, the strong scent of chlorine nearly bowled him over. His nose burned as he found his way to a massive central room filled with rusty machines. There, alone in the middle of the room was John, chained to one of the old turbines and nearby sat an empty cage. Roc took two steps toward John but froze as the turbine sprang to life, spinning, yanking the chains attached to John’s outstretched arms.

  “Stop right there, freak, unless you want to watch grandpa get ripped in two,” a voice bellowed from the catwalk up above.

  Roc turned to see the fucker who’d hurt Meline and broke into his penthouse standing on the metal balcony. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see the psychopath, Cohosh. Nightshade was the type that didn’t like to get his hands dirty, so he sent his henchman. Roc’s wings bristled, ready to launch at the man behind Meline’s near-death experience, but John’s shout of pain as the chains pulled tighter halted him.

  “I brought the damn medallion. You can stop your demonstration,” Roc roared, shaking his backpack.

  His shoulders eased when the spinning machine halted, and John sighed in relief.

  “Sir, you shouldn’t have come. It’s a trap,” John coughed.

  He suspected nothing less from the vile assholes.

  “Like I was going to leave you,” he reassured his old friend.

  “Touching. Now drop the bag and get in the cage,” Cohosh barked.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t trust you. I’ll toss the bag up to you, then me and my friend will be going,” Roc countered.

  He was about to rush John and break the chains when men with semi-automatic weapons stepped out from behind the large machines and corroded pipes. He expected a handful of men at best, not a small army equipped to start the next world war.

  Fuck me. With the strong chemical smell, he hadn’t scented all the mercenaries, and hadn’t thought much of it since this used to be a pumping station.