Jewels of the Nile II Rebecca Airies, M Cooper, AJ Evans, S Kane, N Moore, KyAnn Waters

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Ellora’s Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile II

ISBN 9781419916540

Editorial Team: Raelene Gorlinsky, Nicholas Conrad, Kelli Kwiatkowski, Briana St. James , Denise Powers.

Cover design by Darrell King.

Electronic book Publication June 2008

Trade paperback Publication June 2008

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Ellora’s Cavemen:

Jewels of the Nile II

After Dark

By KyAnn Waters

From the Sea

By Maxie Cooper

Lady’s Choice

By Rebecca Airies

Sunrise

By Natasha Moore

Surrender Dorothy

By Anna J. Evans

The Debutante

By Samantha Kane

After Dark

KyAnn Waters

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Michelin Man: Michelin North America, Inc.

Chapter One

“Haven’t you ever wanted to walk into a bar, pick out the hottest guy in the place, take him home and fuck his brains out?” Kayla March sat across from her best friend Nita at the local brewhouse, Coffee Grounds. She sipped a latte with an extra shot. Caffeine equated to energy and she needed a jolt.

“Absolutely not,” Nita said.

“Well, I have and tonight I intend to make it happen.”

Yesterday, the final divorce papers arrived in the mail. Kayla was single again after seven years of marriage.

“I’m glad my grandma isn’t around to see this day. She loved Tom.” Kayla fingered the bloodstone ankh pendant around her neck. She’d found it in her grandmother’s belongings next to a picture of her deceased mother. An ankh symbolized eternal life. Knowing that, wearing the pendant gave her comfort. She hadn’t taken it off since.

“She’s the reason you married him,” Nita said. “I loved your grandma, too. She was a sweet lady, but she controlled your life.”

“She wanted what she thought was best for me.” Kayla sighed, and then shrugged away the gloominess. When Grandma died Kayla had lost the only family she had left. “Maybe that’s why I stayed with Tom for so long. I knew the marriage was a mistake five minutes after the ceremony.” It hadn’t taken Kayla long to realize Tom saw marriage as a shortcut to financial independence with Grandma’s money. More than that, Grandma had ensured that even after her death, Tom controlled the money because Grandma had declared him executor of her will.

Oh, he’d been proud to have her on his arm in public, but once the door closed she existed in a private hell of indifference. Tom had never been abusive, but inflicted deep wounds nonetheless. And, although they’d had sex occasionally early in the marriage he’d never given her an orgasm. No one had given her an orgasm. Apparently, that was her fault as well. Determination swelled within to prove she wasn’t frigid, she wasn’t a cold-hearted bitch, and she was indeed sexy, intelligent and desirable.

Kayla wanted to experience passion, hot as hell, and without consequence. And she told Nita so. “Does that make me a slut?” She twirled a lock of her shoulder-length hair around her finger.

Nita snorted. “No, but maybe slightly desperate.”

“Desperate I can live with.” She pulled a napkin from the dispenser. “I heard about this new club called After Dark. I want to check it out. I have this feeling about the place.” She touched the pendant again. Whenever she thought of the club, the bloodstone in the center of the ankh warmed her skin. It had to be a sign.

Nita held up her hand and shook her head. “Not me, I’m comfortable with my sex life with Steve.”

“Perfectly boring sex life.”

Nita shrugged. “Maybe, but size makes up for lack of skill. It’s not a perfect world.” She pointed a finger at Kayla. “Tom was a jerk. I know you. Deep down, you believe there is someone special out there.” She leaned back. “He isn’t at some bar, and you won’t find him in a one-night romp.”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk. I feel great now.” But Nita was right. Kayla did believe in soul mates. She just didn’t think it likely she’d meet hers. Only a few lucky ones discovered everlasting love.

“Just don’t set yourself up for another hard fall. Sometimes you have to accept what is.”

“I’m in a rut, Nita. I’m divorced. Rumors are rampant at work. I might be out of a job because my department is about to downsize. And I need male attention. You know, Tom and I didn’t have sex the last year we were married and I haven’t been with anyone else since we separated.”

“What about the guy from your office you went out with a couple weeks ago?”

“Three months,” Kayla corrected.

“He was good looking.”

“Yeah, it should’ve been perfect. Reputed to be a ladies’ man, I thought we’d get along great. Supposedly, he fucks everyone he dates, and I wanted to get laid.”

Nita laughed. Then she took a sip of her drink. “So what was the problem?”

Kayla furrowed her brows. “Lance Perini, Mr. Good Looking. Not perfect, but doable.” Kayla preferred dark hair, and although Lance was blond, she only entertained the idea of a one-night stand. They’d had dinner and a glass of wine before she invited him to her place.

“He talked about himself in third person. Lance is a happy man with a couple glasses of wine. Lance knows how to please Kayla. Lance’s big buddy wants a kiss. And then he grabbed his crotch.”

“Oh no, he didn’t.”

Kayla nodded. “I’m not opposed to giving a blowjob, but I think it’s only polite to give before asking to receive. And his kisses were sloppy.” She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “If I had known then he’d be my only offer, I wouldn’t have been so picky.”

“Hence the club and your lowered standards.”

“It will also explain the blonde highlights I’m having weaved into this mess.” Kayla flipped her auburn hair. Lately, she’d thought it looked mousy. Before she went to After Dark, she’d have a new look to go with her new lease on life.

“And what exactly is my involvement in getting you hooked up?”

“Just keep me company until I meet…him. I know he’ll be there.” She ran her finger around the rim of the cup. “I feel it.” Her eyes met Nita’s in a plea for her to understand. “Haven’t you ever felt like you had to do something? You don’t know why, only that you have to follow your instincts.”

“Like right now, when I know I have to go to this club so that you can get laid.”

Kayla stuffed her napkin into her empty cup. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

Nita groaned. “Fine, but I’ll meet you there. I’ll keep you company while you break the ice with a hottie.” She pushed her cup away. “Be quick. I’m leaving at eleven.”

Kayla smiled. Two hours ought to be enough.

* * * * *

Alandro Blackwood paced outside the council chamber. Discussions were underway and he should be inside. She was alive. Anxiety raced through his veins. Pressure tightened his chest. His existence was about to change. With the discovery of the one woman who was his blood match he’d once again found his opportunity to breed.

He fingered the vampire ankh hanging around his neck. Two inches long and the dagger-shaped staff tapered to a sharp point. About an inch wide at the cross, the sides were shaped like fangs. The pendant was made of silver. Unblessed silver.

In the center of the necklace, beneath the oval head, was a tear-shaped bloodstone. He clutched the sacred pendant in his palm, allowing the psychic benefits of the stone to wash over him, the understanding of destiny and purpose. The link to the woman he’d believed dead.

The tip of the daggered end pierced his skin. He released the pendant. A droplet of blood was absorbed back into his skin and the puncture mark healed. Only a pinprick scar remained.

The door opened. Inside the large chamber Vasco sat at the head of the table. His council was seated around him. Vasco pointed to the seat to his right. Alandro’s footfalls echoed in the large windowless room. Wall sconces emitted the only source of illumination. Native American tapestries, woven by his tribe, hung on the wall. Some were hundreds of years old. For more than five hundred years his clan had survived in the area now known as Arizona.

Alandro kept an apartment in Phoenix as well as his family’s ancestral dwelling deep in the remote desert. A safe house.

Alandro took his place beside his father. “Where is she?”

“Just wait.” Vasco reseated himself. “She doesn’t know who she is or more importantly what she is.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “We must proceed cautiously.” He steepled his fingers beneath his pointed chin. “She was just a child. We don’t know how much she witnessed of her parents’ death.”

“Their murder.”

Vasco nodded. “And it appears she was raised by the slayer who killed them.”

Alandro leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Then you know who the slayer is?” He narrowed his gaze on his father. “Tell me.” He stood. “So that I can find him. After I drink every last drop of blood from his body, I’ll tear his heart from his chest.”

“Alandro, calm yourself and listen. You don’t understand. The slayer is dead.”

Then what was the problem? If he didn’t have to fight for his bloodmate’s safe return, why wasn’t she already with him? A part of his soul remained vacant without her. Until a few hours ago, he believed he’d spend eternity alone.

Alandro was a mated vampire. One of the few with the ability to breed. Whether a curse or gift from God, but only a woman born of a changed female could bear his offspring. Not all males born could breed. Only those who carried the active gene. However, all first-generation females were born human…until awakened.

Alandro would awaken the woman’s long-dormant vampire gene when he found her.

For a quarter of a century it had been believed his blood match was hunted and killed along with her parents. He’d waited two hundred years for her birth. Their blood had to match. And as a human child, she grew up naturally. Alandro couldn’t claim her until she’d reached maturity. Before that could happen, she disappeared.

“Will you listen, Alandro? She doesn’t know you exist.” Vasco pointed to the council seated around the table. “She knows nothing of us…of our kind. And there are some things you need to know before you contact her. The situation is…delicate.”

Alandro slowly sank to his chair. “Where is she?”

“After Dark.”

The feeding grounds? Unless her dormant vampire gene had already been awakened by a breeder, why would she go to After Dark? He’d soon find out.

* * * * *

Black leather miniskirt, a blouse with plenty of cleavage. If Kayla’s outfit didn’t scream come fuck me she’d come right out and ask. Her four-inch heels clicked across the parking lot. Since she’d never be considered petite, she figured she might as well work with her height. Five-nine barefoot, thirty-six D and hips she once thought gave her an hourglass figure, but Tom had called childbearing.

Muted music thumped from inside the club. Cigarette smoke drifted on the air from a few small groups lingering in front of the brick building. Kayla scanned the parking lot for Nita’s silver coupe. She didn’t see it. Damn, hopefully there would still be open tables.

Stepping inside, she saw the club was divided into two sections. The front area had a large bar and tall tables surrounded by high-backed barstools. The music was buffered by a wall, making it easier to have conversations.

Moving to the rear of the club, she scanned the crowd looking for an unoccupied table. “Perfect.” Kayla hurried to a vacant corner booth before someone else grabbed it. From there she could watch both the dance floor and the door. A cocktail waitress flitted amongst the patrons taking orders.

When the waitress approached, Kayla smiled. “I’ll have a Mojito.” She’d never had one before but it sounded like she felt. Unfamiliar and daring.

After Dark was an apt description of the club. Secluded corners offered intimacy, lighting kept a rhythm with the heavy bass coming from the sound system.

“Hi.” Nita slid into the booth beside Kayla. “Have you found the guy?”

“No, but it’s still early. Most clubs don’t pick up until after ten.” Kayla let her gaze travel over Nita. “I’m glad you dressed up,” she said in a sarcastic tone. Faded jeans and the clinging t-shirt weren’t the worst part. At least they clung to all the right places. But flip-flop sandals? They were horrible even with the sequined flowers on the toe strap.

“I didn’t want to give you any competition tonight.” She laughed as the waitress arrived with Kayla’s drink. “What is that?” Nita picked up the Mojito and sniffed. “Smells great.” She sipped. “Mmmm.”

“Rum, I think. I don’t ask. I just drink.”

“How do you make it?” Nita asked the waitress.

She shrugged. “Ask the bartender.” She pointed to the guy behind the bar. Bald, and even from twenty-five feet away his intense blue eyes sparkled. Muscles like the Michelin Man flexed as he upended bottles and twisted off beer caps.

“Oh my God, I feel a flush.” Nita shifted on the seat and adjusted her top to better accentuate her breasts.

“If you were interested in something besides boring, I’d say he’s all yours.” Kayla glanced around again. “I’m looking for dark and mysterious.”

And there he was. She gripped Nita’s thigh and squeezed.

“Ouch!” And then Nita saw him, too. “Oh my God.”

Damn! He was gorgeous, standing in the doorway. Partially cast in shadow, yet his features were still discernable. Thick brows arched high over hooded eyes glinting like polished obsidian and framed with heavy lashes. Strong square jaw, hollow cheeks and lips that hinted at a smile as if he thought of something pleasurable.

Molten heat flooded Kayla’s core. Fervid sexual images formed in her mind. How would it feel to run her hands over the broad shoulders hidden under a black, silk button-down shirt? Black jeans hugged his hips just tight enough to outline the bulging cock behind the fly. Straight dark hair, as black as night, flowed to the middle of his back like a liquid curtain.

“He’s sin personified.” Dark, decadent, and surely worth eternal damnation.

He glided across the room and went to the bar.

“He looks like the type to fuck.”

Nita nailed it. The man exuded raw masculinity. He wouldn’t make love, but instead make a woman scream through her orgasms. Kayla wished she knew what one felt like. Most women claimed they could find release in seconds with a high-powered vibrator. Kayla had tried. Maybe she just wasn’t capable of orgasms.

Somehow she knew this man wouldn’t leave her unsatisfied. Kayla couldn’t tear her eyes away from the stranger. Underlying strength radiated. No unnecessary movements. He was completely efficient.

Kayla imagined he wouldn’t waste time with pleasantries. A man like that knew what he wanted and would be tenacious in his pursuit. She was determined, too. Tall, dark and dangerous was the hottest guy in the bar and he’d just ordered a drink.

“Didn’t you want to talk to the bartender?” Kayla met Nita’s eyes and conveyed her intention with a single wink.

Chapter Two

Kayla positioned herself between dark and dangerous and Nita. Her arm brushed against his. Okay, so it was intentional, but she needed to make eye contact to give him the I’m interested look. Hopefully, he’d find her attractive too so she could move on to the sultry smile. He shifted his position, turning his body into hers.

“Sorry, love.” His rich baritone voice smoothed over her flesh like a forbidden caress.

Anxiety fluttered in her stomach and her knees weakened. She slid her right butt cheek onto the barstool to keep from becoming a puddle on the floor at his feet.

“No, it was my fault.” Kayla smiled and placed her hand momentarily on his sleeve. Heat from his body blazed into her palm.

He leaned closer. “Excuse me, I couldn’t hear you.”

His face was close. Their breaths mingled. The spicy masculine scent of his cologne fired her blood. It pounded with a steady rhythm through her veins. She brought her lips near the shell of his ear. “I crowded you.”

His eyes raked down her body causing her nipples to tighten and pucker beneath her shirt. “I like tight spaces.”

Warmth spread through her limbs and dampened her panties. After a year and a half without sex she had a tight place perfect for him. She lifted her drink to her lips, but the ice cubes clinked in the empty glass.

“Let me buy you another,” he said. “My name is Alandro Blackwood.”

“Kayla.” She jiggled her glass. “Mojito.”

Alandro cocked an eyebrow. “Last name or the drink?”

Kayla released a gentle laugh. “The drink.”

“As exotic as the woman drinking it?”

“Couldn’t tell you since I don’t know what’s in a Mojito.”

“I’m curious too.” Nita reached her arm around Kayla and extended her hand to Alandro. “Nita Blass.”

Alandro held her fingers and brought his lips to her knuckles. “A pleasure.”

Kayla might’ve felt a pang of jealousy except that at the same time his lips grazed Nita’s knuckles, he placed his other hand on Kayla’s lower back. His long fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, found her bare flesh and drew a small circle with the pads of his fingertips.

Damn, his touch sent liquid adrenaline through her blood. She felt flushed yet chills broke along her arm and her heart pounded hard and fast. She tried to keep her anxiety veiled with a light laugh, only it sounded like a nervous chuckle.

Alandro released Nita’s fingers and the hand exploring Kayla’s skin brushed her ass as it slid to her hip. She couldn’t help the wiggle that gave him better access. He signaled for the bartender.

“The ladies would enjoy another Mojito,” Alandro said.

Nita leaned into the counter. “I’d like to see you mix mine.”

The bald bartender crossed his massive arms across his chest. “Share my secrets?” He gave Nita a wink and she sighed dreamily.

Kayla doubted Dallas noticed. Who knew if it was his real name, but it was what the nametag read.

“What do you think, Alandro?” Dallas asked. “Can we trust them?”

“Yes, my friend.” His gaze rested on Kayla. “My instincts tell me the lovely lady would take my secrets to the grave.” Alandro tightened his grip on Kayla’s hip. “Beauty such as this is a rarity. I’m especially grateful to make your acquaintance, Kayla.” Her name floated off his tongue and seeped into her psyche.

“You must be a regular.” Alandro and Dallas obviously knew each other well. “This is my first time here.” Kayla glanced from Alandro to Dallas.

“Yeah, you could say we’ve known each other forever.” Dallas grinned. “A Mojito.” He took two tall, thin glasses from the shelf behind him. Then took a mortar and pestle from under the counter and crushed sprigs of mint with sugar and lemon juice. Next he drizzled the mixture into the glass and filled the glasses with ice. He turned around, grabbed a bottle of rum, tossed it into the air and caught it upside down over the ice. The amber liquid was topped off with club soda. Finally, he added a slice of lemon and another sprig of mint.

“Do I meet with your approval?” He placed the drinks in front of Kayla and Nita.

“Oh yes,” Nita said and then took a sip.

Alandro handed the bartender a twenty-dollar bill.

“Would you like to join us at our table?” Kayla turned around. “Oh.” Their table was no longer theirs. Another group occupied the space. “Never mind.” She turned a hesitant smile to Alandro.

Insecurity niggled in her mind. His expression remained intense, but his smile never stretched past a slight uptilt to his lips. Was he interested? She lifted her gaze to his eyes. Tension gave way to butterflies in her stomach. Liquid heat spilled from his irises. Fierce desire coiled within her. Tightness started in her chest and traveled into her center. Her pussy clenched with the want of Alandro’s cock thrusting deep. Somehow she needed to find a way to touch more of him. It wasn’t enough to have his magical hand on her ass.

As if her thoughts were whispered aloud, he leaned close. His lips touched the lobe of her ear. “Would you like to dance?”

Kayla placed a hand on Nita’s shoulder. “You’ll be okay?”

Dallas had moved to the far end of the polished wood counter. “Oh yeah, and our obligation to each other for the night is over. I’m going to enjoy my drink and lust after the beautiful bartender.”

“What about Steve?”

Nita laughed. “I’m lusting. I need something to imagine during sex with Steve.”

Kayla leaned in and kissed Nita’s cheek. “Thank you.” She spoke quietly so Alandro wouldn’t overhear. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll have to imagine passion tonight.”

“Be careful. Call me tomorrow.”

Kayla’s breath caught in her chest when she turned to Alandro. Now standing at his full height, she realized just how overwhelming his physique was. Next to him, she felt petite. Sliding her hand into his, their fingers laced.

Alandro led her onto the dance floor. The heavy thump and steady rhythm of the music kept pace with the beat of her heart. It also created an insistent beat in the deepest recesses of her pussy.

People meshed together on the dance floor. Alandro bent his knees and pulled her close, aligning their bodies intimately. Every soft curve fit perfectly to his hard, sculpted contours. Pelvis to pelvis, his cock nestled against her swollen labia.

As they swayed to the music, Kayla took a moment to study his regal features. Straight nose, high forehead and his lips, a deep shade of red, appeared firm yet soft. He caught her staring, but he didn’t fully smile.

Kayla sucked in a breath. She could’ve sworn his pupils blazed crimson, but the color disappeared so quickly. The dim lighting must have created the illusion because his eyes were once again pitch-black depths of drowning decadence.

Dropping her gaze, she stared at the smooth skin of his bare chest at the unbuttoned neck of his black silk shirt. His skin, the color of rich molasses, made her want to splay her fingers again the smooth and flawless surface. He carried Native American blood and she wondered what ancient magic he weaved around her.

“So tell me about yourself, Kayla. Why are you here tonight?”

The sound of his voice, deep and seductive, vibrated from his body into hers and pulled her from her musings. He rained a few light kisses against her temple.

“Didn’t you know? I came looking for you.”

He touched her pendant. “It’s lovely. Where did you get it?”

She looked down at his long, thick fingers. “My grandmother.” He lifted her pendant and ran his thumb over the bloodstone in the center. The color flared from deep green to red. Kayla sucked in a breath. “It’s never done that before.”

“Maybe it means I’m special.” She glanced up and he winked at her, letting the pendant drop back down between her breasts.

“Oh.” The stone seared her skin. She pressed it against her chest, absorbing the heat. He’d only held it for a moment. “It’s hot.”

“So are you.” He ran his fingers over her flesh, pausing as if to savor the texture. Then he pulled her close and began to dance again.

Moist and hot breath caressed the exposed flesh of her neck and jaw. He rubbed his lips against the sensitive skin near her ear. The hardness of his teeth behind his partially open lips pressed against her.

She tilted her head to give him access to her neck. His lips grazed the tender flesh. Goosebumps broke along her arms and down her spine.

“You taste as good as you smell.” His tongue stroked her pulse point. The veins in her neck swelled with blood. Intoxicating numbness muddled her thoughts.

The music quieted, drowned out by the echo of her beating heart filling her head.

“What’s your full name?”

“Kayla March,” she said breathless.

His chest expanded with a deep breath as if he was drinking in her scent. Then his shoulders relaxed. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.” His lips brushed against her neck in fluttering butterfly kisses.

“Mmmm. Yes, pleasure.” His kisses were divine.

His hands cupped her rear and lifted her more firmly against his shaft. “So Ms. March, do you come like a lion?” He pulled back meeting her eyes. “Or like a lamb?”

They stopped swaying.

“Take me home and find out.” Because she, too, would like to know.

Alandro’s gaze raked her figure. Then he took her hand and wove a trail out of the throng of dancers, pulling Kayla along with him. Nita still sat at the bar chatting with Dallas.

“Wait.”

Alandro stopped and Kayla raised her arm over the heads of the crowd and gave Nita a quick finger wave goodbye.

“Ready?” he asked.

Kayla nodded.

Alandro escorted her out of the club.

Without the moon, the cloudless night sky was darker than she’d ever seen it before. Stars sparkled like diamonds. The parking lot was eerily quiet. Plenty of cars, but no bar patrons hung about smoking as they had when she arrived.

“I have my car.”

Alandro linked her hand around his elbow. “Driving won’t be necessary.”

Kayla tried to focus. At his touch, suddenly, her eyelids grew heavy.

“Just relax. You’re safe with me.”

Shrouded in darkness, she couldn’t distinguish his features. Her eyes drooped. Forcing them open, she once again saw the crimson glow reflected in Alandro’s eyes, deep red like the color of the bloodstone in her pendant when he touched its center. She focused intently, scrunching her eyes. Her knees no longer supported her weight. She slipped, but didn’t stumble because Alandro was there to lift her into his arms. Soft hair caressed her fingers when she reached around his neck with her arms. Blackness blurred her peripheral vision. She blinked. Unable to keep her head from lolling, she leaned against his chest.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled. Pointed white teeth briefly glinted.

Before she could scream, black descended.

Chapter Three

Feathery kisses touched her closed eyes. Silken hairs brushed against her cheeks. Kayla slowly awakened. Alandro was sitting beside her. He leaned over her, supported by his arms and gently kissed her lips.

She lay on a bed draped with black silk sheets. Their coolness on her ass alerted her to the fact her miniskirt had ridden up to her waist, leaving her exposed in only her thong panties.

“Where am I?”

“Sleeping Beauty awakes.” His eyes were slow in meeting hers. They tracked along her smooth bare thighs, lingered on the scrap of fabric covering her pussy and roamed over her chest. Finally their gazes locked. Desire simmered in the heated depths. She was sure he saw the same in her pale, golden eyes.

“Are you Prince Charming?”

“Not Prince Charming. But some have referred to me as a Prince of Darkness.”

She blinked, taking in her surroundings. The room was sparely decorated in muted earthen tones. Besides the bed, there was a chaise lounge and large armoire made from a dark mahogany.

A warm glow illuminated the room, only she couldn’t identify the source. There were no glaring overhead fixtures or table lamps. The room simply radiated its own pale light. Deep shadows around the perimeter kept her from knowing the exact size of the large room.

“This is my home,” Alandro said. “My sleeping chamber to be precise.”

No shit! How in the hell had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was feeling a bit dizzy in the parking lot. “Did I pass out?”

“Yes.” Mirth sparkled in his eyes. “And technically no. I assisted your slumber. Travel is much faster my way.” His lips parted with a smile.

Kayla sat up and sucked in sharply. There was no mistaking his right and left upper cuspids. Pointed, clearly fangs, yet the teeth weren’t long. A vampire? His skin was too dark for him to be an undead. Vampires wore black capes and spoke with European accents. Alandro exuded a blend of gentlemanly charm and raw, native sexuality.

“Don’t be afraid.” Alandro fingered the hem of her blouse, then lifted it over her head. Her breath fluttered as he grazed the swell of her breast with his thumb. He sipped her lips. Once, twice, and then lingering longer. He pulled her close, kissed her deep and unhooked her bra. “We’re the same.” Slipped the straps from her shoulders, he bared her to the waist.

“The same?” Then she noticed the ankh hanging around his neck. “My necklace.” Her hands flew to her neck where her pendant still hung against her flesh. “Where did you get yours?”

He swallowed her words with another kiss. Kayla had to admit, she could overlook the fangs for the sheer deliciousness. His tongue touched her lips and she was powerless to stop her mouth from opening for him. The same way she was unable to stop from reclining and spreading her thighs to welcome his heavy masculine weight.

Alandro accepted both invitations. He stretched out, lying between her legs. His tongue plunged, explored, plundered. Wetness soaked the string of her panties. His barely confined erection rubbed against her swollen folds. Of their own volition, her hands reached to the front of his jeans and lowered the zipper.

Hot and heavy, his cock sprang free. Her fingers barely circled the turgid girth as she stroked the velvet softness stretched over solid strength. A bead of moisture on the tip moistened her thumb. She pressed against the slit.

Alandro groaned. His head arched and his lips pulled back in a snarl. The points of his cuspids lengthened.

“Holy shit!” Impossible. Vampires didn’t really exist. Did they? She pinched her arm and it hurt. “Oh my God.” She wasn’t dreaming and this wasn’t a nightmare. No, this couldn’t be a nightmare. She felt too good…too alive. Her body heated with his touch, wanting more. From the moment he’d walked into the bar, she’d been sexually aware of this man. Only he wasn’t a man.

“You are a vampire.” Why did the truth of that make her blood pump harder? Faster. She needed him inside her and wanted to offer herself as a sacrifice. She ached to have his fangs puncture her flesh and slide into her blood supply. “Alandro, what’s happening to me?” She stretched her neck and opened her thighs.

“Not now, love.” A devious grin stretched his mouth then he kissed her breast. “This isn’t the moment to explain.” His cock nudged at her panties. “Do you trust me?”

With sureness she didn’t understand, she did trust him. “Yes,” she said on a wisp of breath.

In one swift movement, he had his hand between them and ripped the panties from her body. Jeans chaffed against her inner thigh. His fingers trembled on her skin. Cupping her mound, he traced her dewy lips and then slid a finger between the hot folds. “You’re so beautiful. God, I still can’t believe you’re here…in my arms.”

“I’m here.” Kayla arched her back as his finger dipped into her honey. Liquid warmth flowed, her inner walls tightened. He slipped in a second finger and flicked against her G-spot.

“You aren’t a virgin.”

Her eyes snapped open wide. “I’m twenty-seven years old.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And divorced. Oh God!” She bucked against his hand. Pressure built in her center. An internal quickening caused a euphoric clouding. She teetered on the precipice of a magical occurrence. She mentally reached for the elusive orgasm. Her body tightened. “It won’t happen.” A tear slipped from her eye. Her orgasm wouldn’t crest. “It’s hopeless.” Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “I’m sorry, Alandro.” She reached for his cheek. “It isn’t you. I’ve never been able to have one.”

Alandro chuckled. “Sweet Kayla, I’m the only one who can make you come.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?” They both glanced at his raging erection.

“I’m sure in the knowledge that you were born for my pleasure.”

“God, I hope you’re right.” She lifted her hips and shimmied her skirt down her legs. “But how do you know?”

“Shhh.”

“Ohh.” She would’ve said more, but Alandro stripped off his jeans. Buttons popped when he ripped his shirt open.

Dark, flat nipples centered on smooth, sculpted pectorals. She couldn’t resist reaching out and running the pad of her index finger over a pebbled tip. Trailing lower, she explored each groove of his corded stomach. Finally she reached the thick thatch of dark hair surrounding the base of his shaft. His cock loomed large and powerful. Heavy balls hung below. She tested their weight in her palm, rolling the smooth globes within the wrinkled pouch. Musky yet sweet, she could almost taste his essence just from the heady, heightened aroma of his arousal.

Kayla slid higher on the bed. Alandro knelt between her thighs. “Everything will become clear once we’re joined,” he whispered to her in his native tongue.

“You have such pretty words.” Although she didn’t understand what he’d said.

He braced his body above hers and with his hand around the shaft he fit the head of his cock to her opening. Alandro let out a long feral growl and pressed inside her in one fluid motion.

Stars erupted behind her closed lids. Changes happened in her breathing, not just because of the passion of Alandro, but deeper, heavier breaths drew his essence into her soul. Her skin blazed where his fingers stroked her breast. Alandro rolled her nipple under his thumb while he squeezed the milky smooth globe. The tingle shot straight into her pussy where she surrounded Alandro in a tight silken sheath.

He filled her, pulled from her body, only to fill her again. Each magical movement added to the smoldering flames of desire licking her blood to life, flowing fast and hot through her veins. She actually wanted Alandro’s bite. As if her very existence depended upon it, she wanted to feed his hunger.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, the pounding rhythm matched that of his cock. Warm wetness coated his shaft. Anticipation built because the pressure burgeoned again. She didn’t want to fight the flowing motion of their joining. She wrapped her legs around his back and tilted her pelvis, giving him deeper penetration.

“It’s happening.” Quick little pants kept her from being able to suck in a deep breath. Almost there, she had the momentum. Another stroke. He slammed into her channel. A million tiny electrical pulses shocked her body. She careened into her orgasm.

“Oh yes!” Waves of pleasure rippled her internal walls as she milked his cock. Her thighs trembled as they squeezed his hips. Euphoric haze overwhelmed. Her voice caught in her throat. She could only whimper as she clung to Alandro’s broad shoulders. Muscle spasms locked her body to his. Orgasmic bliss clouded her vision.

A roar exploded from Alandro. His eyes blazed crimson, blood red. His cock slid in and out, faster, harder. Long and strong, his fingers dug into her hips as he anchored her for his sexual onslaught. His mouth opened and Kayla watched his pointed fangs lengthen into talon-like daggers.

Another orgasm stole her breath. Blood in her veins boiled and burned beneath her skin. Saliva moistened her mouth, yet her lips were becoming dry from heavy panting. She touched her tongue to her upper lip, grazing her teeth. “Ah.” A sting on the flat of her tongue opened into a cut. Blood coated her teeth as she felt for the sharp source. Fangs protruded from her gums. She had undergone a metamorphosis.

“But you haven’t bitten me.”

Alandro braced his weight with his arms. Kayla trailed fingers gently to his lower back and ran her palms over the curve of his smooth ass.

“No, because you’re vampire.” He continued the rhythmic pounding into her heated cunt. “We’re a blood match.”

Kayla couldn’t argue the point when her body moved closer to another release. And she had fangs!

“Alandro,” she whispered. It was a plea to satisfy an unknown craving. Tremors moved along her nerves. Her body wanted to fly apart. Beads of perspiration followed her hairline and a sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. “Something is wrong with me.” Fear began to overpower her desires. Her own body became unfamiliar to her. Pains ripped through her abdomen. Thirst she couldn’t quench and a hunger she didn’t want to understand had her fighting the truth of what she wanted, blood.

“We must complete the bonding.”

She lifted her chin, granting a better angle of her neck for her vampire lover. With perfect clarity she now understood she needed to feed Alandro.

Threading her fingers into his long curtain of hair, she brought his mouth to her neck. His warm moist breath anesthetized her skin. His fangs sank slowly. Hot rivers of blood flowed from her body. Alandro greedily sucked, his fangs sinking deeper at the same time his pelvis thrust and stilled. His shaft remained buried full hilt.

Feeding Alandro impaired her like a narcotic sedation. Kayla’s limbs dropped to the bed as her life force drained from her body. Numb from diminished circulation, she couldn’t move or push him away. He took too much. Blackness encroached. Kayla couldn’t move her mouth to speak. A silent scream echoed in her head. Don’t take all of me.

Chapter Four

Alandro had never tasted anything sweeter. Thick warm blood flowed into his mouth. He greedily drank. Kayla lay limp in his arms yet he couldn’t stop the feeding, perhaps because he’d become desperate. He needed her blood to bring his seed to life. Slow warmth began in his mouth and migrated out, consuming the whole of him. His cock, still encased in her smooth, wet wall, pulsed. Shifting her position, he thrust deeper.

Kayla moaned in her delirium. Her walls milked his cock, heightening his pleasure and bringing him near to ejaculation. His hips pumped faster. The bloodstone in her pendant vibrated in tune with the one around his neck. The stones represented two halves becoming whole. Alandro’s and Kayla’s blood became one within his body.

Fully satiated, his fangs slipped from her neck. Muscles in his stomach tightened. A quickening flashed through his mind and body. His pelvis rocked and her cunt surrounded him. He thrust within the smooth hot cavity. Harder, faster, in and out until hot rivers of cream erupted from his cock. Wet and slick, her walls sucked him deeper. He released a primal cry. For the first time in his existence, he felt the beat of his heart. The thump pounded in his head, a foreign sound confirming that Kayla had just given him life.

“Kayla.”

A distant voice called to her.

“You must wake enough to feed. Kayla.”

The voice grew louder. Alandro called to her, but the words were muted. She tried to open her eyes, but she was too tired to lift her lids.

Memories of what happened to her filled her mind. Saliva moistened her mouth. His coppery, sweet scent was near. She parted her lips and fangs lengthened to razor-sharp points.

Alandro lifted Kayla, cradled her against his body and brought her mouth to his chest.

A hiss escaped her lips. “No,” she whispered. She wanted his neck where she could sink her teeth the deepest.

“You’ll scar me because you’re too weak to control the flow.”

Her eyes parted to a narrow slit. Alandro took the pendant around his neck and using the daggered end, pierced the flesh of his chest. He sliced the bladed edge through his skin and created a small cut. Then he brought her mouth to the trickle of blood.

Warm sweet elixir coated her mouth. Her tongue instinctively worked the flesh, quickening the flow. The stabbing pains in her quivering stomach marginally eased. Her heart rate increased.

Like a key in a lock, feeding from Alandro revealed hidden secrets buried deep in her subconscious. The unquenchable hunger for his blood amplified sexual awareness in her soaked pussy. Opening her mouth wide, she sank her new piercing fangs deeper into his skin. Liquid energy surged through her system. Now that she could see, she looked up at Alandro’s face. His open-mouthed expression was one of rapture. His eyes rolled into his head. His jaw clenched but his red lips tilted into a subtle smile.

Kayla bit harder and Alandro’s lips pulled back in a snarl. His large fangs glinted in the darkened room. She increased her suction and he moaned in bliss. His cock swelled, pressed between them.

Suddenly his arms were on her shoulders. Alandro shoved her away. Rivulets of their blended blood trickled down his chest.

Kayla growled her displeasure because her hunger hadn’t been satiated. Before she could fight for her feeding, Alandro easily lifted her by the waist and impaled her on his erect shaft.

“Don’t let me bleed.” Alandro brought her mouth to his neck to finish. “You’ll scar me.”

The vein along his throat bulged with blood. His pulse beat in her ears. Instinct governed her actions. Her mouth opened and hot breath from deep in her lungs washed over his skin. With careful precision, her fangs slid painlessly into his neck. It was crucial she didn’t let his blood meet the air. If he bled, he would scar. That they never leave a mark was imperative.

Kayla didn’t yet understand why, but there was a mental link between her and Alandro. She couldn’t read his mind and didn’t believe he could read hers, but she understood his cryptic words. Almost as if they spoke a language only they understood. The message he relayed—that his identity had to be protected. And now hers too.

Once she locked her jaw into place, she drank deeply.

Alandro rolled his hips. Her vaginal walls gloved firmly to his rigid cock. His hands roamed, traced each of her ribs, then drifted around to her back and cupped her ass.

A strange flavor floated across her tongue, a combination of tastes both bitter and sweet, the tang of earth and cloves. She’d had enough of Alandro’s blood and she needed to seal the wounds with the excretions mixing with her saliva. Opening wide, she made a seal with her lips against his skin. Her teeth slipped from his flesh and her tongue spread the salve on his wounds.

“I was careful,” she whispered and then met his mouth in a kiss. Tongues touched, tasted. Alandro wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. In the tight embrace, with both their mouths and bodies joined, they completed the bonding. Moving together in harmony, Kayla’s body crested.

“Alandro!” She held tight to his shoulders, her nails sinking into his flesh as his body bucked a final time and his seed saturated her womb.

Alandro fell back against the pillow, taking Kayla with him. His arms held her close in an intimate cocoon of warmth and revelation. They were silent as their breathing returned to normal.

“How did you know?” she asked. “I didn’t know.”

He fingered her vampire ankh. “Can you see the symbolism?” The daggered center, the fanglike arms and the bloodstone represented what they were. “When I first heard you were alive I wanted to tear the world apart looking for you.” He kissed her temple. “And then Vasco told me you were at After Dark. You don’t want to know what I thought then. The images weren’t pleasant.”

“Why?”

“Because I assumed you knew who you were, that you’d discovered the truth about us…our vampire family. I thought by your going to After Dark that it meant you’d mated with another vampire.”

She snuggled closer. “No worry there. You’re the first vampire I’ve met.”

“For which I will be eternally grateful.”

“I can assume eternally for us implies a very long time.”

“Yes, you sacrifice your humanity, our bonding honored in perpetuity. We’ll be together forever.”

After the intense orgasms, the physical and emotional bonding, and the potency of her passions, sharing her life…endless life with Alandro appealed to her. “But what does After Dark have to do with it?”

“The club is one of our feeding grounds.”

“Feeding as in drinking their blood? You hunt those unsuspecting people.”

“Hunting implies their lives are in danger. That’s not the case. Feed, yes, but not kill.”

“Nita! Is she in danger?” Kayla scrambled to get off the bed.

Alandro held on to her. “Dallas wouldn’t hurt Nita.”

“Dallas is a vampire? I need to warn her.”

“You’d be too late. Nita will either willing go with him under the guise of sex, or he will take her the same way I brought you here. He’ll quiet her mind. She won’t even remember. And he’ll carry her on the wind.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” she said with disgust.

“No, but it’s a fact of our existence. One you’ll need to learn to accept.”

Kayla buried her face in her hands. “It’s my fault. I made her go to the club with me.”

Alandro tossed off the blanket, stood from the bed and paced across the floor. “Your friend could’ve fed hundreds of us before tonight. A host wouldn’t know unless the vampire is careless.” He met her eyes. “If she had ever been scarred, Nita wouldn’t have survived the night.”

Kayla inhaled a sharp breath.

Alandro shook his head. She didn’t understand. “When a host feeds a vampire, they don’t become one. It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

Other species of vampires hunted and killed indiscriminately. His family valued life. They were breeders. Survival depended on discretion and sacrifice. Not all the males were able to produce live sperm. Only when both breeders, like he and Kayla, had the recessive gene could they produce offspring.

Alandro studied Kayla. She stared back with a mixture of fear and curiosity. How would she feel about the fact she could only bear sons? With luck one would have the gene enabling procreation. But there were hindrances in the proliferation of his family, his species of vampire. Females were only born to changed females. They had to have been born wholly human.

Rules that had been in place for centuries determined if a woman would be changed. Kayla’s mother had chosen to love Kayla’s father. The price had been her humanity. The gift had been a child. Soon after Kayla’s birth the determination was made that she matched Alandro.

And then her parents had met with a vampire slayer.

Alandro remembered the day he heard of their deaths. Hell, he’d relived the moment countless time and then cursed the slayer who stole his destiny. He pushed the bitter memories aside. Kayla was here now and alive…and his. But he didn’t know her, not yet, not like he would in the years and centuries to come. If he told her the truth about her parents, what limited information he had, would she be able to handle it? Would she believe him?

“I promise, love, you’ll come to understand our way of life.” He slipped back to the bed and opened his arms to her.

Her satin skin warmed the sheets. They lay facing each other. He stared into the drowning depths of her golden eyes. A guileless smile softened her mouth and eased the furrowed brows over her eyes. She expected him to explain their history. Only he didn’t have the whole story. For some reason the vampire leadership hadn’t been forthcoming with details of her disappearance.

A strange and interesting fact considering one day Alandro would replace Vasco at the head of the council table.

With a finger to his forehead she rubbed the worry from his face. “Explain it to me. How did you change me?”

“Our family—”

“We’re related?”

He laughed. “Same family of vampires, not brother and sister. In fact I’ve been around about two hundred years longer than you have.”

“So I’m bonded to a man of experience.” The hum in her throat relayed her approval.

“You’d think so.” His cock thickened with thoughts of fucking her again. “But you’d be wrong. At least not like this.”

“A woman likes to know she’s special.”

He touched her face. “You’re more unique than you realize. And that,” he said decidedly. “I can tell you about.” He propped a pillow behind his back and pulled Kayla close. “We belong to a race of vampires where the males can breed. However, females born to us don’t feed until maturity.” He gave her a rapacious smile. “And she has to be fucked by a breeder.”

“Ah. And will any breeder do?”

“You would certainly have more options than I would.”

“So you’ll need to stay on your best behavior.”

He chuckled and pulled her on top of him. “In females, the vampire gene lies dormant until she physically bonds with a blood match.” The sheet only covered them to the waist. Her full soft breasts crushed against his chest. He grazed his thumb over the erect nipple. Kayla shivered and sucked in a deep breath. “We’re a match. After tonight your choice is made.”

However irrational her brain might find the situation, her heart was already invested. She sought pleasure in his embrace. And it wasn’t just because he could make her come. The emotions and impulses ran much deeper. An elemental connection like she’d been born for him.

Kayla reached her hand beneath the sheet and traced the length of his erection with her fingertips. “You’re telling me that I’m the only match for you?”

“Exactly.”

Part of her recognized that. After all, she’d never been able to have an orgasm. Hell not even a high-powered vibrator had buzzed her into a trembling puddle of wetness. Yet, Alandro had her dripping cream with a caress of whispered words. “Thank you for finding me.” She stroked his cock with her hand and kissed his lips. “I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on this.”

“All these years we thought you were dead…” Alandro paused for a moment. “Killed by the same slayer who murdered your parents.” Kayla stiffened and Alandro smoothed a hand over her hair.

“My parents were murdered?” Kayla shrugged him off and sat up. “No, she said it was too difficult to talk about them, but she would have told me if they were murdered.” She glanced at Alandro over her shoulder. “She cried whenever I asked about my parents. They died tragically…but in a car crash.” Kayla put her hand to her head. She’d always believed it was an accident. But now that she actually thought about it, maybe she’d always just assumed it was a car crash. Maybe Grandma never said it was an automobile accident.

“Who?”

“My grandmother. My parents’ deaths were hard on her. My mother was her only child. She wouldn’t tell me what happened. Only how it was a tragic accident.” Kayla released a shuddering breath and lay back down. “Grandma died during my third year of marriage.” Kayla rolled to her side and rested her head on Alandro’s corded abs. “She was amazing. My marriage to Tom made her happy…and me miserable.”

Kayla’s heart broke with her grandma’s passing. For years it had only been the two of them, until Tom came along. “We were close, more like friends.” Until she died and then Kayla had no family left. “So you’re wrong because she would’ve told me.”

Alandro linked his fingers with hers. “I know more about your parents, but maybe we should let the past die with them.” He combed her bangs from her forehead with his fingertips.

“No, Alandro, enough has been kept from me. I need to know everything. Look.” She opened her mouth, bared her teeth and then said, “I’m a vampire! Why was that kept from me? Who took me? Why didn’t the council go to my grandmother? They had to know where to find her. If my mother and father were vampires, wasn’t my grandmother one, too?”

Alandro pressed his lips to Kayla’s temple. “I know that your father was pure, but your mother chose to be changed. She wanted to be with your father.”

“Changed? You just said we breed.”

He leaned up on his elbow. “There are complications within our DNA. Not many females are born. Simply put, if a human woman is brought into the family, it’s possible for her to have daughters.” He touched her cheek. “Like you. But you will only have sons. My mother was the daughter of a changed female. I am the only son to carry the gene to breed. So in order to make certain of our survival women have to be turned.” He stared into her eyes. “They have to choose to go through the process. It’s painful and dangerous. Your mother took an incredible chance. Most who decide to risk the change don’t survive. Your mother had to be drained…until she died and was brought back with the blood of a vampire. He then becomes her match. From my understanding, your grandmother never forgave your father for stealing her daughter into the night. That is why some—most—believe she was the slayer.”

Kayla pushed away and shook her head. “I don’t believe you!”

Alandro grabbed her arm and pulled her down next to him. “Whether you do or not doesn’t change what the council believes.”

Partially covering her body, he anchored her to the bed by crossing his leg over her thigh. “I didn’t say I believed your grandmother was a vampire slayer. But you should consider why your grandmother kept you from us. There’s no doubt that she knew what you were and where you belonged.”

“Who’s to say she wasn’t right? I belonged to her, too.” Kayla crossed her arms. “She was always a bit overprotective.”

Alandro groaned and Kayla sighed. Didn’t she just ask him to tell her everything? She couldn’t punish Alandro because she didn’t like what he had to say. “I’m sorry. I’m not being fair to you.” She relaxed her arms. “But she couldn’t have murdered them.”

“Then let it go. Remember her as a loving grandmother.”

“She did love me.” But what if Grandma had killed her parents? Then she’d robbed Kayla of parents, of her vampire family…of knowing who she was. And Kayla could’ve been spared seven years in a malicious marriage. And the worst part of all, her grandmother had taken away her ability to walk away when she left her inheritance to Tom.

“Oh God.” Kayla covered her face with her hands. “She was the slayer. It’s the only way to explain why she wanted me isolated. She hoped Tom would keep me from ever discovering the truth.” Rapid blinks couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes.

“But we’ve found each other. It’s hard to believe I’m holding you in my arms.” He kissed her eyes. Her cheek. Her lips. “But we have a lot to talk about. Over the next month, you’ll lose your humanity. I’ve watched other women go through the change. And they were raised with vampires, knew the day would come and still struggled with the shift.”

“Is it painful?”

“They say there are times when the need to feed is excruciating. It’s then you must be extra-cautious not to scar your host.”

She rubbed her finger gently over the still-fresh wound on his chest. The skin around the punctures swelled and bruised. She’d fed as if crazed, almost chewing his flesh. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh. No need for remorse.” He winked. “You’ve marked me.” His hand trailed down her neck, totally healed where he fed.

“Will I live with you now?”

“I’d like you to. It feels as though I’ve waited an eternity.”

“Two hundred years. I’d say you’ve been more than patient.”

“Not just me. My family is eager to meet you as well.”

Kayla never had anyone other than Grandma. More than anything she’d like to belong to a family. She thought about Nita. “I can’t simply disappear.” She nestled closer to Alandro. Heat from his body chased away the chill of uncertainty.

He circled her shoulders with his arms. A soft chuckle from him rumbled into her chest. “We travel on the wind, Kayla. We don’t hunt or feed where we live. There’re no boundaries to our existence so long as we’re discreet. This is why you must be careful not to scar those who feed your bloodlust.”

“Bloodlust. It sounds both terrifying and erotic.”

“I know this is confusing to you. I wish I could wash away the past. I know what I’ve said about your grandmother causes you pain… Hopefully my love can heal.” He brushed his lips against her mouth.

His love. There was so much she didn’t understand about who she was and where she came from because she hadn’t been raised with vampires, with Alandro. No, she’d been reared by a loving grandmother who just might have—did—killed her parents. A tear slipped from her eye. She couldn’t believe her grandmother could kill her own daughter and son-in-law. But then, before tonight she wouldn’t have believed she was a vampire.

“Are any humans trusted with the knowledge of who we are?” Could she tell Nita?

“Trust no one,” he said.

Alandro didn’t need to say more. Kayla’s mother had trusted and paid with her life.

Kayla twisted out of his arms and sat up. For a moment her heart stopped.

Alandro was beautiful in repose. Lying back against the black sheets, his dark complexion smooth and tantalizing, and his curtain of hair framed his face. And she belonged to him. How could she deny her rightful place beside him?

“There’s so much to do. My job, my friends, I can’t simply walk away.”

“It’s your choice to remain in your life. Nothing has to change.”

“God, and I love Mongolian barbecue.”

His lips twitched and a chuckle escaped his smiling mouth. “You can still eat whatever you like.” His cock tented the sheet. “Hopefully it’s me.” He wagged his brows.

Kayla narrowed her eyes. “I need to know the rules. Garlic, sunlight, stake through the heart? Maybe you should educate me on what I’ll have to give up. This isn’t like giving up meat to become a vegetarian.”

“You’re right, you won’t be a vegetarian. Now, come back to bed.”

“I am happy to see you sleep in a bed and not in a coffin.”

“You’ve seen too many horror movies.”

“Art imitates life.”

Alandro crawled out of bed and stood. His impressive erection reached nearly to his navel. Kayla marveled at how his touch, kisses and that beautiful cock had bought her such pleasure. Had she wanted to, she couldn’t move as he approached. His gaze held her mesmerized.

He stopped in front of her. “Myth versus truth.” He rubbed his knuckles over her nipple, bringing it to a painfully hard bud. “Truth, garlic will probably become too strong of an odor within a month.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Unlike the sweet scent of your cunt. I can smell your desire. I know you’re wet—for me. Even when blinded by the sun, I will know you by the fragrance of your skin, your blood.”

“I can smell you too, so strongly I taste the flavor.” Their eyes met.

Alandro linked their fingers and led her to the far side of the room. The carpet fibers were soft and thick under her bare feet. He posed in front of a full-length mirror.

“We have a reflection.” He stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, reached up and cupped her full breasts in his palms. “However, I don’t look in the mirror often. With you, I could gaze at our reflection forever.” His hand drifted lower over the flat plane of her stomach. “And I will.” Lower over her abdomen. “One day soon, my seed will take root and we’ll watch our sons grow.”

Kayla turned in his arms. “Watch me give you pleasure.” She bent and flicked her tongue against his flat nipple. Her hand slipped between them. “I want to taste you.”

Kneeling on the ground with her body at an angle to the mirror, she wrapped her fingers around the hot, heavy girth of his erection. Tempestuous emotions overwhelmed when she placed her mouth over the smooth, velvet head of his cock. At first his flesh was cool against her tongue, but then she sealed her lips around the shaft. Warmth surged and Alandro’s cock pulsed with energy.

Alandro threaded his fingers through her hair and held her head. Kayla sucked harder, took more of his length into her mouth. Swirling her tongue over the slit, she tasted the delicious sweet tang of his cream.

She raised her eyes without lifting her head or breaking suction. Pulling back until only the luscious crown filled her mouth, she thrilled at the rapture straining his facial features.

Their gazes locked in the mirror. She smiled.

“You have a beautiful mouth.”

She kissed the tip and ran her fingers up the hard, lean muscles of his thighs. Then she traced the length of his shaft with her tongue. Veins engorged with blood. The head darkened in color. Clear pre-cum oozed from the slit. Closing her eyes, she pressed her tongue to the slit and savored the essence of her lover. “Mmm. More.” She closed her mouth over the length again and ate at his cock. Her tongue flicked against the slit. Wild, frenzied, empowering.

Alandro put his hands under her arms and lifted. “Kayla,” he said, his voice straining. “I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

He tilted his head to the side and nipped at her lips. Kayla sighed and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Tasting, sucking, devouring his kiss, she pressed against him.

Alandro broke the connection and turned her toward the mirror. “I want to watch you come.”

Kayla’s head fell back against his chest. “Then touch me, please.”

Smoldering desire leapt into flames of need. His finger parted her soaked, swollen folds and touched her sensitive nubbin. Circling her clit, he built tension within her core. Kayla grabbed his hand and urged him to penetrate her with his long, tapered finger. Her thighs spread and she stood on her tiptoes. She leaned toward the mirror and braced her hands against their reflection to keep from falling forward.

Alandro rubbed the smooth, bulbous head of his cock along the crack of her ass, spreading her juices. Just when she thought he’d slip inside and finally quench her thirst for his passion, he pulled back and teased her further. Tension coiled tightly in her center.

Kayla marveled at how Alandro completed her in a way she’d never before experienced. He intuitively understood what she needed. More than a physical joining, her heart bonded to his. They shared the same breath, hearts beat in tandem. Where he ended she began, creating a perfect joining.

Alandro’s warm lips kissed along her shoulder. His hands firmly held on to her hips to keep her from squirming. She dropped her head and endured the sweet torture. Finally, he eased into her body, not stopping until his groin nestled against her ass.

The pace built slowly, gaining momentum with each exquisite thrust.

“Oh yes,” she whispered. Her eyes closed. Labored breathing mingled with the sounds of their wet flesh slapping together. A low growl rumbled from Alandro. She lifted her eyes, startled and stared at the erotic image reflected in the mirror.

Alandro’s eyes lit with fire, blood red, the same as hers. Breath hissed from his partially open mouth. Drawing her stare were the long pointed fangs waiting to plunge into her flesh. Barely contained hunger strained his features. Lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Alandro.” It was difficult to form words with her heart hammering, breath shallow, and nearing the precipice of orgasm. His eyes searched the mirror, seeming unable to lock on her face. “Alandro!” Her body trembled and spasms clenched her internal walls.

“Kayla.” Her name sounded strange on his lips, more like a question.

“I’m yours.” A gush of fluid warmed her inner thigh as her body careened into another release.

Alandro pulled his wet cock from her cunt and fit the head to her tightly puckered rosette. She sucked in sharply as the swollen head pressed past the rim. She’d never had anal sex before and wasn’t prepared for the flash of pain before the voracious need to arch her back and take him deep. “Oh God.”

Unrelenting force drove Alandro. She shuddered under the carnal hunger he demanded from her body. Awakened needs thrilled and terrified. She couldn’t get enough of his cock into her body. She cried out, insatiable desire firing through her body.

The rhythm of Alandro’s strokes had her keening and wild for release. His fingertips pressed into her hips. Thrusts, hard and fast, slammed into her ass. His roar filled the room.

Alandro bent his head to her shoulder, but instead of placing loving kisses, his fangs sank deep and fully into her flesh.

“Ah,” she moaned. He hadn’t breathed the numbing mist onto her skin. The bite stung and the flesh burned. Suddenly he pulled back. Blood bubbled to the surface and trickled down her back.

Alandro arched his back. A violent spasm jolted his body. Kayla cried out as he pumped her full of cum. She absorbed wave after wave of his orgasm. Finally Alandro gasped and released a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Kayla laughed lightly. “No need for remorse,” she said, repeating his early response. “Now you’ve marked me.”

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. “We need to rest.”

“Shouldn’t we stay up so we can sleep during the day?”

Alandro chuckled.

“More myth?”

“Exaggeration. Your eyes will become sun-sensitive unless you feed regularly.”

“Feed?”

He kissed her, chasing the concern from her mind. “Kayla, my love, you may feed from me for as long as you wish.”

“I like the sound of that.” She snuggled into the bed, burrowing against the heat from his body. “I suppose keeping our existence a secret is probably for the best.”

Alandro arched a questioning brow.

“There’s no way Nita would ever believe I’d met my eternal mate when looking for a one-night romp.”

From the Sea

Maxie Cooper

Chapter One

He came from the sea—naked, wet and hard. Moonlight cast blue shadows along his skin, turning it to chiseled marble. Hair as dark as midnight clung in thick ribbons to his bare shoulders. His cock stood straight and proud, as if raised in silent worship of the night.

From her enclosed patio overlooking the private beach, Kelli could almost see it pulsing in the pale light of the moon. Or maybe that was simply a trick of the light coupled with an overactive imagination. She stared a little longer, just to be sure.

Thick and long and perfectly shaped, it was the most beautiful cock she’d ever laid eyes on. Not that she’d seen that many to compare it with. There’d been a series of forgettable relationships in her not-so-wild youth, followed by a regrettable marriage that dragged on longer than it had any right to. Since her divorce she’d been celibate by choice, relying on fantasies to relieve the sexual frustration.

None of those erections—either in her memory or her fantasies—could compare to the one before her, glistening in the moonlight.

With a conscious effort she tore her gaze from the phallic masterpiece. Slowly, devouring every luscious inch, she scanned up, up, up…along lean hips, over tight abs, across broad shoulders and—oh sweet Jesus!—that face.

Michelangelo himself could not have done justice to the singular beauty of the man before her. There wasn’t an actor in Hollywood who wouldn’t gladly go under the knife to achieve even a tiny measure of such physical perfection. If Kelli had tried to conjure a perfect love god, her imagination would have fallen short.

She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to silence the wild beating of her heart. When he tilted his head in her direction she let out a startled gasp. He seemed to be staring straight at her. But that was impossible. She was hidden in the darkness of the patio where she’d fallen asleep…was it only a couple hours ago?

She checked her watch. It was five minutes past twelve. Her fertile mind imagined him stepping out of the sea at the stroke of midnight.

Stroke.

Of course her mind went there.

Glancing back at the moonlit beach, Kelli was surprised to see that he’d moved closer to her cottage, still staring in her direction. Was it coincidence or could he somehow see her huddled deep in the shadows?

A tremor of fear quivered along her spine. She’d rented this beachside cottage seeking privacy, a place to relax and paint without the constant clamor of the outside world. The isolation had been exactly what she was looking for. Now it felt ominous. Who would hear her if she screamed?

The thought came unbidden—unless they were screams of pleasure.

She shook her head. This wasn’t a dream. She was alone, it was the middle of the night and a naked man was heading her way across a lonely stretch of deserted beach. Should she call 9-1-1? Find something to use for protection? She remembered locking up before getting ready for bed, so that was one thing in her favor.

As if sensing her discomfort, the man stopped. Closer now, she could see his eyes. They seemed to be pleading with her. It was too dark to tell what color they were but somehow she knew they’d rival the deepest blue of the sea, a shade seen only in the most precious of aquamarine gemstones. There was something both comforting and familiar about him. As she tried to pinpoint exactly what it was, he reached out his hand, palm up, as if beckoning her to join him.

She shook her head from side to side. No. That would be foolhardy. And yet, there was something in his eyes, something that both reassured her and sent a jolt straight through her body. In her mind she’d already taken that first step forward, could feel his strong arms enfolding her body, taste the sea salt on his skin. A deep, mystifying yearning seemed to override her senses.

She wanted him. Desperately.

He stood perfectly still, offering her the choice. Come or stay.

She wanted to come. Oh how she wanted to come. But common sense overruled passion. He was a stranger. He could be dangerous. More importantly, something warned her that taking that first step into the unknown would open up a world of sexual experiences unlike anything she’d ever known—a world far removed from her mundane daily routine. She didn’t know if she was ready for that…

Yet, hadn’t she come here to escape? Hadn’t she been searching for change? Perhaps the man out there was simply a figment of her imagination, an outward symbol of her inner discontent.

Still he waited.

No. The silent scream reverberated over and over in her mind. No, no, NO!

Slowly he lowered his arm. His face sagged in disappointment. With a barely perceptible shake of his head he turned and walked away.

She almost cried out for him to come back but stopped herself. Silently she watched him walk back to the waiting arms of the sea until he was no more than a shadow melting among deeper shadows.

And then he was gone.

* * * * *

Kelli waited through most of the night but he never returned. Eventually she gave in to sleep, lulled by the soothing rhythm of the waves. Her slumber was filled with dreams more erotic than anything she’d ever experienced.

Her dream lover seduced her with words as gentle as a caress. He parted her with his mouth and laved her with his tongue until she felt herself rising and receding on an endless tide, her orgasm finally cresting and rushing over her in a roaring wave.

She woke up gasping for breath, caught in the throes of a climax so powerful it left her trembling.

Oh my God!

She was drenched, her body coated with sweat, her pussy slick with the juices of her orgasm. She reached down and cupped herself, feeling the ripe heat against her palm, the delicate tremors of her sex-swollen lips.

She slipped one finger between the soaking folds and stroked upward, along one side of her tight, swollen clit, then down the other. Circling. Teasing. Caressing.

Every nerve ending cried out, yet she took her time, building slowly to a peak while her mind replayed the image of the man she’d seen the night before. The man who’d seduced her dreams.

Her mind kept returning to his magnificent cock. She imagined how it would feel inside her, the thick head pressing against her opening until she screamed for more, then the tight, hard slide as he filled her, forcing her open around him and driving deeper than any man ever had before.

Her pussy clenched in response. She slid one finger inside, feeling the walls of her passage squeeze tightly around her finger. It wasn’t nearly enough but it would have to do. The heel of her palm rested against her swollen clit. She stroked in and out, slowly at first, her body rocking upward to meet each thrust of her finger.

She felt the beginning of another orgasm coiled deep within her belly. She held it, riding the edge of release until she felt as if she’d explode. And then, when she couldn’t stand it any longer, she let it tumble over her, crying out as her body arched and jerked and tightened. Her fingers, warm and slick from her juices, fluttered and stroked her quivering clit, intensifying the orgasm until it was one long, continuous wave that held her and refused to let go.

Helpless, she rode the crest as fast and as far as it would take her, then collapsed in a quivering heap. Even then her body continued to tremble with small aftershocks, each pulse weaker than the last until they finally drifted away, leaving her with a blissful, shimmering glow of satisfaction.

When she was finally able to pull herself together, there was only one question on her mind. If just the thought of him could do that, what would it be like to have him in real life?

She knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t be completely satisfied until she found out.

Chapter Two

Kelli spent the day on the beach, letting the sun and the waves work their magic. This was the first vacation she’d taken in years, and so far it surpassed even her wildest expectations. The first two days she’d spent unwinding, casting off the tattered shreds of work and obligations she’d left behind. On the third night she’d discovered a naked man at her doorstep and had the most intense orgasm of her life. It couldn’t get much better than that—and she still had a week and a half to go.

She smiled, thinking of the man on the beach the night before. In the harsh light of day, her earlier impression that he’d somehow materialized from the depths of the sea seemed ridiculous. And yet her gaze was pulled back to the water over and over again. Watching. Waiting. Scanning the endless sea as if she could summon him by sheer will alone.

Thoughts of him feathered her senses, shooting fluttering waves straight to her groin. She was half tempted to once again take matters into her own hands, but instead chose to let the excitement build until she fairly thrummed with need.

Unable to get his image out of her mind, she found herself wavering between excitement and trepidation. Would he come for her again or had she turned away his one and only invitation? And if he came, would she let him in?

Yes. There was no question in her mind, the answer was yes.

When the day went by with no sign of her mysterious visitor, Kelli went inside and showered then fixed a simple dinner. She felt curiously light, free from the constant clamoring of phones and faxes and emails. She’d purposely left her laptop behind and her cell phone, brought along simply for emergencies, sat silent on the countertop. She supposed she should turn it on, if only to make sure she had reception, but there’d be time for that later. For now she was content to paint, enjoying the leisurely hours ahead with no deadlines, obligations or time clocks.

She’d promised herself this time alone to refill her creative well, to find the joy she’d once had in her art before it had become a grinding chore. As a graphic artist, she manipulated images every single day. But it was here, with the fluid strokes of watercolors, that she truly felt the magic happen.

The pages of her sketchbook were filled with fantasy art, dreamlike images of underwater palaces and mystical creatures seen only through the eyes of her imagination. She’d been drawing them forever. None of these pictures would ever earn a dime, of course. The rewards were intangible, lifting her soul and filling her with a feeling of deep contentment.

A fresh canvas sat on the easel, enticing her with a world of possibilities. She never planned what her paintings would be, but simply let her brush guide the way. Creativity was an untamed creature, impulsive and unbridled. It was easier seduced than controlled.

Kelli moved the easel closer to the large picture window facing the beach. Not only was the light better, but she had an uninterrupted view of the seashore. If her mystery man made an appearance, she’d spot him long before he reached her doorstep. She wet her brush and blended colors on her palette then began painting—hesitantly at first, but losing herself in the process before long. Time slipped away as she layered and stroked, not the least bit surprised at the image emerging on the canvas.

It was him, her man from the sea. She’d painted him clothed—or semi-clothed—in low-riding jeans and a shirt open to the waist. Somehow he looked even sexier dressed. The soft sable brush seemed to caress his skin, skimming downward along a defined abdomen toward that provocative dip at the open button of his jeans. Her fingers itched to tug the zipper downward, revealing more of that incredible physique.

She studied the image, struck again by that same sense of familiarity…

Then it hit her. They shared similar features and coloring—the same blue-black hair that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light, the same fair skin and fluid bone structure. It wasn’t a family resemblance as much as an ethnic recognition, like two strangers meeting in a faraway, exotic land yet knowing at a glance that they shared a common heritage.

His people are my people, she thought, then quickly brushed the idea away. She didn’t have people. Her birth was a mystery. Once she’d discovered she was adopted, she’d spent years researching and studying the faces of strangers, hoping to find a clue about who she was, where she came from. Surely it was simply wishful thinking that put such fanciful thoughts in her head.

She chewed on the wooden end of the brush, admiring the likeness before loading the canvas with blues and greens. With quick strokes she filled in the background, letting her brush swirl to suggest the roiling surf.

Funny that she always painted—and chosen to vacation at—the shore, a place that both fascinated and repelled her. For as long as Kelli could remember she’d had a paralyzing fear of water. And yet, just being near the water was relaxing in a way that she couldn’t quite understand. The sound of the waves soothed and calmed her and she’d always found herself drawn to the seductive pull of the sea.

For some strange reason, being near the water was okay. Being in the water was not. She hadn’t even brought a bathing suit with her, knowing she wouldn’t set foot in the sea.

When Kelli stepped away from the easel to admire her work, a hidden pattern emerged. Somehow, with dapples of paint and light, it almost looked as if a shimmering city rippled beneath the surface of the water. There was a hint of coral castles and sandstone towers, all glowing in shades of aquamarine blue. The harder she stared, the more the image eluded her. She shook her head and chased the image away, convinced it was only an optical illusion.

She nodded her head, pleased with the final result. Since she was losing the light, she left the painting on the easel to dry, washed out her brushes and set her paints aside.

She sat on the porch with a book she’d been meaning to read for months. If occasionally she glanced out at the sea, it was simply to enjoy the view. Nothing more.

At least that’s what she tried to convince herself.

As evening crept in, Kelli found herself checking the beach more often. Would he come again? Already the memory of last night’s visit had taken on a hazy quality, as if it was no more than a dream or wishful fantasy. Yet as midnight approached, she found herself dressing solely for him, foregoing her usual nightshirt for a long, flowing nightgown that cupped her breasts and rode silkily over her curves.

In her mind she’d already taken that first step to meet him on the beach. The shimmering white nightgown made her feel like Aphrodite to his Adonis. She’d brazenly take his hand and everything else he had to offer, enjoying one blissful night of hedonistic sex that would exceed even her wildest imagination.

Her fantasy came with its very own soundtrack, a soft, haunting melody that both charmed and seduced her…

With a start, Kelli realized that the song wasn’t part of her imagination. It was coming from outside. When she glanced up, he was there, standing in exactly the same spot as he had the night before, his hand outstretched in supplication.

Waiting.

She blinked, less shocked to see him again than by the fact that he was dressed exactly as she’d painted him—the same low-slung jeans and open shirt. It was as if he’d stepped directly off the canvas sitting on her easel…or out of her fantasies.

If anything, this seemed further proof that he was no more than a figment of her overheated imagination.

She stood up, bewitched by the siren’s song. All she had to do was step outside her comfort zone and meet him halfway.

But she couldn’t move.

Reality came crashing down around her. She’d always been the sensible one, the person grounded in reality. People who knew her would say she was the one least likely to take a reckless leap of faith, let alone dive headfirst into the unknown.

She reminded herself that this was no innocent sexual fantasy. This was real. He was real. As much as she wanted to embrace the fantasy, common sense told her to stay inside where she was safe.

She watched as his shoulders seemed to sag. He lowered his head and she could almost read the disappointment on his moonlit features. The song drifted away, until it was no more than a wispy memory whose tune she could no longer remember. His hand dropped to his side and he turned his back, retreating once again toward the sea.

No! Come back!

He stopped, as if he’d heard her silent plea.

Kelli rushed to the door before she could change her mind. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let this opportunity slip away. As soon as she made the decision, the music swelled once again, surrounding her from every direction. This time it had a joyful undertone, as if to celebrate her impulsive decision.

Barefoot, she raced across the beach, not sure what she’d say or do when she reached him. The decision, however, was not hers to make. Only when she stood beside him did he turn and grace her with a smile of infinite beauty and tenderness. She held her breath.

“You came,” he said. His voice blended with the music and the two became one.

Kelli realized that it was his song she’d been hearing. With heightened senses she became aware of him on a level beyond sight and sound. She felt an instant connection, an awareness of his thoughts skimming gently over her own, as well as the knowledge that she could sense his as well.

“Yes,” she replied. As if I had a choice.

He smiled, and this time there was no doubt that it was his voice she heard in her mind. The choice is, and will always be, yours alone.

“You…” she stammered, at a loss for words. “You called me.”

“No,” he said. “You called me. I simply answered your summons, a song I’ve been waiting to hear longer than I can remember.”

Kelli shook her head, not sure exactly what he meant. A thousand questions ran through her mind but she could only hope they’d be answered in time. This moment was all there was. All she knew for sure was that she felt an incredible sense of peace in his presence. She was drawn to him in a way she’d never felt before, not for anyone or anything.

“Are you…are you a figment of my imagination?”

He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “Do I feel imaginary?”

No. Oh no. He felt solid and real, right down to the steady beat of his heart. And his voice was everything she’d imagined it would be—deep and husky with an intensely masculine rumble that rose and fell like the ebb and flow of the sea.

“Do you have a name?”

He smiled. “I do, but it would be impossible for you to pronounce.”

He made a sound that was like waves rushing the shore, a sound she couldn’t possibly duplicate. The closest approximation she came to was Shushuwanee, but even that didn’t sound right.

“I’ll just call you Shawn, if that’s okay.”

He nodded and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. She saw something familiar there. Loneliness. It was a look she recognized well. She’d seen it every day in the mirror’s reflection, haunting the depths of her own eyes.

When he took her hand again, she laced her fingers through his and he pulled her close. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady thrumming of his heart, which seemed to beat in harmony with her own. For the first time in her life, Kelli felt as if she belonged somewhere—right there in a stranger’s arms.

Yet he didn’t feel like a stranger at all. He felt like the part of herself she’d been searching for her entire life. He felt like safety and security and home. And beneath it all was a wild undercurrent of yearning…

And yes, lust.

As comfortable as she was in the circle of his embrace, there were things she needed to know. She raised her face to his but before she could utter a sound, he captured her mouth with his own.

The kiss was deep, probing and passionate. She felt heat coiling in her groin as his tongue explored her mouth, going from teasing and tender to hot and needy. His hands slid down to her lower back then gripped her bottom, tugging her tightly against him. She could feel him throbbing and hear the low moans as he ground his cock against her tummy.

God, she wanted him. Right here, right now.

With one smooth move he tightened his hold on her ass cheeks and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her away. Each step pressed his erection against her quivering pussy until she thought surely she’d come before either of them spoke another word.

It wasn’t until she felt water lapping at her ankles that she realized they were wading into the sea. Fear ripped through the fog of lust.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home,” he said. “I’ve searched my entire life for you and now that we’ve found each other, it’s time to bring you back home.”

She struggled in his arms. “No. Not the water!” He backed up a few steps toward the shore but she already fought the beginnings of a panic attack—the racing heart, the sense of impending doom, the tightness of her breath. “I can’t!” she cried, fighting a rising hysteria. “Put me down. Please.”

He started to ease her down but as her feet touched the water, she jerked and flailed backward, desperate to escape. Her throat tightened. She could feel herself drowning, tumbling through endless waves as she had a million times in her nightmares.

She could feel the sandy bottom beneath her feet. She stumbled—but before she could fall he reached out and caught her, sweeping her up in his arms once again. “It’s okay,” he murmured, taking her back to the beach in long, steady strides. “I’ve got you. Everything’s okay.”

She took slow, calming breaths. The farther they moved away from the water, the less frantic she became. And still he continued soothing her with soft words and caresses, helping her regain a sense of equilibrium.

When they were far enough from the water, he lowered her to the sand. He scooted behind her, clasping her against his chest until the trembling eased. She rested her head back against his shoulder.

“Tell me about this fear,” he coaxed, his voice as soothing as the rhythm of the tide.

And she did, opening to him in a way she’d never done with anyone before. “It’s always been there. For as long as I can remember. Even as a child I’d wake up screaming, gasping for air. It was more than a nightmare. It seemed like…a memory somehow.” She shuddered.

He hugged her tight, as if he could ease her fears with his touch alone. His arms wrapped around her waist and his long legs stretched out on either side of her own. His warmth surrounded her and something seemed to thaw at the deepest center of her core. She hadn’t realized how cold she’d been inside until now.

“What did your parents say about these nightmares? Was there any basis for your fear of the water?”

Kelli shrugged. “I didn’t really know my parents. They died when I was very young.” What she didn’t tell him was that when she attempted to find out more about her parents, she’d been surprised to discover that they’d adopted her as an infant. The stark words “birth parents unknown” stood out on the document and were forever branded into her heart. Those words and her fear of the sea only added to the mystery of her birth, as if the elderly couple she’d always assumed were her real parents had simply found her abandoned by the side of the road—or the edge of the sea.

As if sensing her discomfort, he changed the subject. “Being near the sea doesn’t bother you though?”

Kelli shook her head. “Crazy, isn’t it? I love being near the water. I love watching it, listening to it. It seems to pull me almost hypnotically. It’s the strangest thing. I love it and hate it at the same time.”

“Not so crazy,” he said. His hands brushed over her tummy, waist and hips in gentle caresses. Whether it was intentional or not, his touch took her mind off her fear. It both comforted and inflamed as his palms slid over the satin of her nightgown, making her skin tingle. Heat pooled in her belly when he cupped her breasts. The material slid away and a gentle breeze whispered across her nipples, making them pucker.

She closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest further, losing herself in the erotic sensations. She wanted more. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than his fingers were there, plucking and teasing and pinching. Heat pooled in her belly, each tug of her nipples sending a jolt straight to her center.

“Yes,” she whispered, and the sound was softer than a sigh, sweeter than the gentle breeze.

He tugged her tighter against his body until she could feel the hard length of his erection nestled between her ass cheeks. With one smooth movement he gathered her nightgown and pulled the material up around her waist, baring her to the moonlight. She didn’t care. It felt right and natural to be nearly naked in his arms.

His lips brushed the nape of her neck. “Relax,” he whispered. “Relax and enjoy the sensations.”

She couldn’t deny him even if she wanted to. He nibbled her earlobe and kneaded her breasts as she melted against him. Water tickled the soles of her feet then washed gently over her curled toes. Instead of panic, however, the gently approaching water only excited her more. There was no room for fear in her heightened state of arousal.

Her mind refused to question how the waves had reached them this far up the beach. It was as if he’d summoned the water, adding its gentle caresses to his own. She was bombarded with sensations as he stroked her thighs, spreading them to open her to the night breeze.

She arched her back, wanting more. Each beat of the waves brought her higher. Each stroke of his fingers made her ache for more. Her blood pounded, her nerves pulsed and her entire body quivered.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Hold on just a little longer.”

Her toes curled again when she felt the lightest brush of water against her heel, a faint tickle, here then gone. The sand beneath her shifted as the water lapped again at her heels, her calves, her thighs. A thousand pinpoints of sensation merged at her center…water and sand and fingertips.

He slid one finger inside her slick pussy and her walls clutched tightly around the thickness—first one knuckle, then two, then all the way until he was buried inside her. The water swirled around his hand, lapping at her swollen clit with liquid kisses, licking and sliding over her as he opened her wider, sliding deeper, filling her tighter, in and out in quickening thrusts. Higher and higher, faster and faster. As his tempo increased, so did the wave, pounding against her throbbing clit until she tightened, lifted—then crested in a rushing orgasm.

Her body trembled with release, ebbing and flowing with the tide. The water receded as silently as it had come, washing away the last traces of her orgasm. Nothing could have prepared her for the intensity of the experience. And all he’d done was touch her. What would it be like to take him inside her, to let him possess her completely, body and soul?

And then she remembered how his touch had become inseparable from the water’s caress. Before the fear could slip back into place, he rose, slid one arm beneath her trembling knees and lifted her. With soothing words, he clasped her against his chest and carried her back to the cottage.

She rested her head on his shoulder, content as a kitten. Every nerve ending tingled. Even the soles of her feet felt erotically charged from the water’s caress. A sigh escaped her lips.

At the door to the cottage, he gently set her on her feet. Her legs trembled but held her steady…steadier than she felt inside.

“Can you come in?” she asked, suddenly shy.

He glanced back at the moon then nodded his head. “Yes, but only for a little while.”

Once inside, she was unsure what to do. Should she offer him a drink or simply drag him to bed? The cottage, which had felt too big and empty before, now had an infinitely more intimate feel. Maybe a little too intimate.

At least they were clothed…somewhat. She brushed sand from her nightgown, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks at the memory of what had taken place on the beach. When she looked up again, Shawn was standing in front of her easel. Only then did she realize just how perfectly she’d reproduced his image, right down to the skin-hugging jeans.

Why hadn’t she painted him naked, the way she’d first seen him stepping from the sea? And why did he appear exactly the way I painted him?

He turned and smiled. “Because I thought that’s how you wanted to see me.”

Kelli blinked. If she’d had any lingering doubts that he could read her thoughts, they were gone now.

“As you can read mine,” he said. “You just have to learn how to listen with your heart instead of your ears.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said, turning back to finger the sketchbook lying open on the table. “It’s like the difference between shouting to a neighbor across the street and whispering to someone beside you. Soul mates hear the whisper.”

He ran his fingers over the pictures in her sketchbook—dreamy underwater palaces made of coral and mother-of-pearl seen through a watercolor haze. “Home,” he murmured, then turned and held her in a mesmerizing gaze. “On some level you still remember.”

Even as she fought to deny it, he continued, pointing to the fantasy pictures she’d drawn her entire life. “This is where you were born…and where you still belong.”

“I was born in New Jersey.”

He shook his head, closing the distance between them. “No, that’s where you were found, my little lost mermaid. And I’ve been searching for you ever since.”

He held out his hand and waited until she placed her hand in his own. “Let me tell you a story.” He led her to the couch and draped her across his lap. “Where I come from, each man has only one mate whose soul song answers his own. Their songs cry out like a beacon until they find one another.”

As he spoke of his home, a series of visions flooded her mind—vibrant coral reefs, flowing seascapes and underwater castles. They were familiar images she’d tried to capture on canvas for as long as she could remember.

“Buried memories,” he said, confirming her thoughts.

“But how…?”

“In my culture,” he continued, “we have tales of babies lost at sea, wrenched from their mothers’ arms and tossed onto the shore. These water babies rarely survive. Only the strongest adapt and become land-bound creatures, with no memory of their home beneath the sea. They too are lost, unable to hear the underwater call of their soul mate.”

He held her close. “Your memories of drowning are real but your fear of the water is misplaced. It’s not the water that nearly killed you—but the air that strangled your newborn lungs when you were thrown from the sea.”

She tilted her head skeptically. “Merfolk?”

He smiled, the light in his eyes sparkling like moonglow over tranquil cobalt waves. “Some people might call us that.”

His voice took on a thoughtful tone, as if telling a tale passed down for generations. “According to our legends, we share the same ancestors with those who dwell on shore. My people once walked on land, before the Great Wave of Creation buried our home beneath the sea. The Earth was young then and mankind had only recently walked from the sea where all life evolved. It was easy for us to readapt to an underwater existence.”

Kelli gave a soft little sigh. In his arms, all things seemed possible.

“After a great many years,” he continued, “we stopped surfacing altogether. Our land-based brothers forgot about our existence. The occasional glimpse by a fisherman or lost sailor gave rise to your legends of mermaids. The truth is, we’re more alike than we are different. Only we choose to remain below the surface in our underwater paradise.”

“But you can breathe on land?”

“Only under special circumstances, and those come with restrictions. The ideal time is after midnight, when the air is cool and moist and the moon full in the sky to guide our way back home. Prolonged exposure to the heat of the sun is dangerous, burning our skin and blistering our lungs if we indulge in sunlight for too long. Because of this, one must seek permission from the elders to come ashore.” As he spoke, he stroked her with languid caresses. “Permission is rarely granted, and if it is, the window of time allowed above the surface is small. The risk is too great.”

At once Kelli had a vision of Shawn pleading passionately before a council of elders, begging for this one chance to find his lost love. She blinked and the image evaporated. But the scene was burned into her memory and somehow she knew the vision was real, not a product of her imagination.

“Every once in a great while,” he said, “a soul becomes lost. When that happens, their mate beneath the sea will spend eternity searching in vain for the song only he or she can hear. If that song has been forever silenced, we live alone for the rest of our days, yearning for the lost love.”

“How sad.” Kelli yawned. She was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She couldn’t be sure whether it was because of the late hour, the soothing lull of his voice or the amazing orgasm she’d just had. She burrowed into the crook of his arm like a child drowsily listening to a familiar bedtime story.

“For years I’ve roamed the endless seas searching for my lost mate.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his fingers caressing her temples. “But her song was silent. She was nowhere to be found. There was only one place left to search.”

“New Jersey?”

He chuckled, and the sound was like waves rippling over weathered stones. “The elders granted my request to search beyond the water’s edge for my lost mate. But I can only walk on land for two more nights, while the moon is full in the sky. After that I must return to the sea.”

There was more, but by that time Kelli had drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were colored in blues and greens and in them she wore garlands of kelp woven with seashells and freshwater pearls. The man beside her was gloriously naked, as she’d first glimpsed him when he’d stepped from the sea.

Chapter Three

Kelli woke alone on the couch. She sat up and stretched, more relaxed and content than she could remember feeling in ages. A vacation at the beach was exactly what she’d needed after all.

Then she remembered the rest—naked men and soul mates and little lost mermaids. The story was unbelievable. Maybe it was all a dream. Hadn’t she always fantasized about castles under the sea? Those images had found their way into her sketchbook as she lulled herself with watercolor daydreams.

The dream theory was shattered when she glanced toward the window and noticed her painting shimmering in a shaft of morning sunlight.

The man in the picture was naked, exactly the way she’d seen him the very first night.

She distinctly remembered painting him with clothes on—perhaps in an unconscious attempt to deny her sexual attraction.

Draped over the corner of the painting was the most beautiful necklace Kelli had ever seen. An exquisite aquamarine pendant dangled from a cord braided with fine silken threads. The stone sparkled with the lucid blue of the sea.

Mermaid tears.

The voice was no more than a whisper at the edges of her mind. She lifted the pendant and immediately felt a sense of calm. Whether actual mermaid tears or simply aquamarine weathered smooth by the sea, the pendant seemed to act as an amplifier, giving strength to the voice in her mind.

Was it simply coincidence that aquamarine was her birthstone? Its name was derived from the Latin “aqua” for water, and “mare” meaning sea. According to legend, aquamarine came from the treasure chests of mermaids, and was long regarded as the sailor’s lucky stone. She’d always wondered if that explained her mysterious pull to the water.

Wear it and think of me.

How could she not? It was as if he’d captured the essence of the sea in a gemstone and instilled it with mystical powers. The lucid-blue color perfectly matched Shawn’s eyes, as she’d somehow known the moment she’d seen him step from the sea.

She draped it around her neck. The gemstone nestled in the dip of her cleavage, pulsating with warmth that radiated straight down her center to her pussy. The crystal-blue pendant seemed to hum and pulse in tandem with the beat of her heart.

She glanced out the window, searching the endless horizon for any sign of her moonlight lover. Her body ached for his touch.

Tonight, my love.

Kelli clasped the pendant at her breast, feeling the signal strengthen. She knew it wasn’t only the gemstone that held magic, however. Her inner ear was already becoming more attuned to her lover’s song.

“Until tonight,” she whispered, sending the thought out across the waves.

Only then did she notice another difference in her painting. Shawn stood in the foreground, as she’d painted him—but on his bare chest was a teardrop-shaped glimmer of blue formed by a single tiny brushstroke. He was now wearing a pendant at his throat that matched her own.

When she pressed the tip of her pinkie to the image, she found the paint was still wet to the touch.

* * * * *

With the entire day ahead of her, Kelli decided to explore the ocean. If what Shawn had said was true, then her fear of the water was groundless. Knowing that and overcoming the fear were two different things, but she was determined to try.

First she knew she should check in at work. She turned on her cell phone, somewhat surprised and not a little disappointed to find a strong signal. With no excuse not to, she called her office.

That was a mistake. She knew something was wrong as soon as she heard the receptionist’s frantic voice.

“Kelli, where have you been? I’ve been trying to call! Don’t you check your voice mail?”

“I’m on vacation, remember?”

“Yeah, well—consider it a permanent vacation.”

“What?”

“Those rumors we’ve been hearing? They’re all true. They sold the company right out from under us. We all got an email telling us that ‘our services would no longer be required’. Can you believe it? An email!”

Kelli hadn’t checked her email of course, having left her laptop behind. She wasn’t surprised by the news though, and in fact had been steeling herself for the inevitability. She’d heard strong murmurs of a takeover for the past few months.

The least they could have done is told them face-to-face, however. Termination by email just seemed so…cowardly.

“When?” she asked, interrupting the receptionist’s tirade.

“Huh? Oh—two weeks. Then we get an additional two weeks’ severance pay.”

Kelli did some quick mental calculations. She had a small amount in her personal savings account and a few freelance jobs on the side. She’d always been good about paying her bills on time, so she wouldn’t have to fend off bill collectors. Not for a few months, at least.

By the end of the phone call, some of the old stress was back. She couldn’t even hold on to a job she hated. She tried to convince herself that maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Hadn’t she wished she had the time to work on her own art rather than the drudgery of a nine-to-five job? Of course there was the matter of money to consider. Her savings wouldn’t last more than a few months, and the last she checked there wasn’t a huge market for fantasy watercolors.

Still, it could be a chance to follow her dream. She glanced out the window. Maybe more than one dream…

Without even realizing it, her hand found the smooth gemstone at her neck. Almost immediately her fears slipped away, as easily as shedding her clothes. Which, now that she thought about it, wasn’t such a bad idea.

Ten minutes later she was on the beach wearing nothing but a terrycloth robe. She carried a wicker basket containing some fruit, sunscreen and a novel. Nothing was going to spoil this vacation for her. She’d worry about the future when her time here was over. For now she was determined to enjoy every gloriously sun-drenched moment.

* * * * *

After reading the same page three times, Kelli finally gave up. Her mind was elsewhere. She kept glancing out at the water, hoping for a glimpse of Shawn even though she knew it wasn’t safe for him to walk on land by daylight. She clasped the aquamarine dangling from her necklace but his voice was silent.

If he can’t come to me, maybe I can go to him? The thought came as a surprise. Was it her idea or had Shawn placed that suggestion in her mind? Either way, it felt right. There was only one problem. Just the thought of stepping into the water sent a spike of dread straight to her heart.

As soon as the fear struck, a picture formed in her mind of the way Shawn had used the water’s caress to enhance his own touch when he brought her to orgasm the night before. Remembering the way the water had teased her body eased the fears. She slipped out of her robe and let it fall to the ground as she stood naked and free in the glistening sunlight. With a sense of purpose, she walked to the water’s edge. Each time the fear threatened to rear its head, she focused on the vision, remembering how sensuous the water could be.

When she reached the water’s edge, she took a slow, deep breath. “I can do this,” she whispered, sounding braver than she felt. She closed her hand around the pendant at her neck, feeling an immediate connection to Shawn…then dipped one toe in the water.

Her heart began to pound.

Ignoring the fear, she stepped into the water, letting it swirl around her ankles. A quick image of the water sucking her down and pulling her under made her jerk back. This time the memory of Shawn’s touch wasn’t enough to overcome her apprehension. The terror came back stronger, making her pulse pound and her breath come in short, quick gasps.

Determined to push past her phobia, she tried again. This time she made it a little farther, wading out into the water by sheer willpower alone before the fear came back stronger than ever. By the time the water was licking at her calves, a clammy sweat coated her skin. Terror held her immobile as the panic escalated, tightening her throat until she couldn’t breathe, could only whimper helplessly. As if mocking her fear, a dark cloud obscured the sun, darkening the sea and sky.

Without thinking, she clasped the pendant. Shawn’s name rang out in her mind.

“I need you!” she cried out. “Please, Shawn! I can’t do this alone.”

She tried to back out of the water but her feet refused to move. If anything, she seemed to be sinking. The water gripped her ankles, threatening to drag her out to the very depths of the sea.

Water rippled in the distance. She was struck with the irrational conviction that death was coming for her. Death by drowning—her deepest fear was about to come true. The ripple became a wake, more pronounced and moving at an incredible speed. Kelli clasped the pendant and waited, mesmerized by the sight yet unable to move out of the way.

I’m coming.

Shawn? His voice was so clear he could have been standing right beside her. She realized he was coming to save her. Her fears were quickly overshadowed by concern for Shawn. She remembered what he’d said about the daylight and knew he would be putting himself at risk for her sake. The sky was overcast. Would that be enough to protect him from the sun’s harmful rays?

But there was no squelching the wave of reassurance that rushed over her even before he surfaced. He strode forward like a god of the sea and swept her up in his arms and back to the safety of the beach. “It’s all right,” he murmured over her protests. “I’m fine for a little while.”

She clutched him tighter. “I shouldn’t have called you. It’s not safe. But I was so afraid.”

“I know. I felt your fear,” he said. “You did great, though. I’m so proud of you! But you don’t have to do it alone. I can help you. Just remember the water can’t hurt you. It’s where you belong. It’s where you were meant to be…with me.”

His voice alone would have been enough to ease the fear, but the added strength of his arms and the fact that they were leaving the water behind didn’t hurt. Only as the last remnants of fear receded did she realize they were both naked except for the matching pendants they wore. She knew without a doubt that somehow the aquamarine had amplified her thoughts, allowing Shawn to hear her cries for help. The matching pendants vibrated at the same frequency.

His skin was cool and wet where it brushed her own. With each step she felt her blood stirring. He came for me. That thought was more exciting than even the feel of his erect cock pressing against her bare thigh. He’d come when she’d needed him most.

“Shawn?”

He lowered her to her feet then reached up to brush a lock of hair from her temple. “Yes, my love?”

The words sent a thrill coursing through her. She wanted him. Despite all the craziness, the unbelievable stories about mermaids and underwater kingdoms, she wanted him with every cell in her body.

“You left me last night,” she began. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to come back or not, so I…I thought I’d try to go to you.”

He ran his hand down her arm in a silky caress before taking her hand and bringing it to his hard cock. He held it there, palm cupping his erection before gently guiding her hand in a slow stroke. “My brave little mermaid,” he sighed. “I wish I could have stayed with you all night, but I can only stay out of the water for a few hours at a time. If we’re to be together forever, it has to be in my home. I can’t survive in yours.”

Kelli couldn’t think about that. Not right now. The important thing was that he was here and she wanted him. “I was thinking about taking a shower,” she said. “That’s, um…that’s water, right?”

He raised an eyebrow, lust darkening his sea-blue eyes. “I do believe it is, at that.”

He released her hand but she didn’t move it away, continuing to stroke him until his cock jerked and trembled. Only then did she release her grip and turn toward the cottage. “Let’s get inside before the sun comes out again.”

He glanced once at the sky, as if calculating the risk, then followed her lead.

* * * * *

One of the reasons she had decided to rent this particular cottage was the large walk-in shower. Kelli’s aversion to water extended to bathtubs. A shower was acceptable, however, especially one with wide glass doors that kept her from feeling claustrophobic. This shower was larger than normal with a molded seat in the corner and a handheld showerhead with a power massager.

As soon as she entered the shower, Kelli turned on the water then beckoned Shawn to join her. He stepped inside, dipped his head under the spray and made a sound of unadulterated pleasure before turning to fully face the pounding spray. Only then did Kelli realize how much effort it must have taken him to leave the water during the day, even with the sun’s direct rays obscured by thick cloud cover. She could see how much the water rejuvenated him.

She watched the water trickle along his skin, making sexy swirls over tight muscles and dipping into places she wanted to explore more fully. She ran a fingertip along the rivulet trailing down his spine and felt him shiver beneath her touch. His skin was smooth and hairless, as sleek as any sea creature. She trailed her finger lower. Muscles bunched in his ass as she caressed each firm cheek before circling her arms around his waist to grasp his rock-hard erection.

When she closed her hand around his cock, he moaned. The sound of male pleasure was the same in any language. If she could have sculpted the ideal penis, it would feel exactly like this—the way it fit perfectly against the curve of her palm, the strength surging beneath tight cords and ridges, the unexpectedly velvety-soft crown released from its sheath. She explored every inch, memorizing the dips and curves, letting her fingers tease with abandon then stroking downward along the smooth shaft to circle his base.

A voice inside her began to chant, Mine, mine, mine.

He reached down and covered her hand with his own, guiding her movements with a gentle pressure. She could feel his body tremble with each stroke. Her own excitement built with his and she arched, pressing her groin against his bottom. The muscles of his ass clenched and released with each stroke of her hand, caressing her in a way that was intoxicating.

Just when she thought she could stand no more, he turned and faced her. He held her gaze, his eyes dark with lust. Her hand was still wrapped around his cock. She could feel his pulse thundering in her grip before he drew her hand away and brought it to his chest to rest over his heart. The gesture, so tender and unexpected, tightened her throat with emotion.

“All yours,” he whispered in answer to her earlier thoughts. She knew he was referring to his heart as well as his body.

He brushed his lips over hers and then parted them with his tongue. As they explored each other’s mouths, his hands roamed along her body, caressing her breasts and hips, cupping her bottom and tugging her tightly against his erection, drawing a ragged moan from her lips.

He pulled his lips from her mouth and kissed his way down her neck, licking a trickle of water from her collarbone. She shivered as he bent his head and licked water from first one breast then the other. He brushed his lips over her nipples until they stiffened into sensitive peaks then covered them with slow, lingering kisses. With a husky growl, he drew one nipple into his mouth in leisurely tugs that sent waves of pleasure straight to her center.

Tearing his mouth from her breasts, he lowered himself and followed the trail of water downward, kissing her abdomen, the dip in her belly, circling her navel with his tongue and then burying his face between her legs. She gasped and threw her head back as he spread her nether lips with his tongue, gently placing one leg over his shoulder to delve deeper.

Spray from the showerhead pounded against her sensitive breasts, making her nipples tingle. His mouth closed around her clit, teasing it lightly at first then increasing pressure, lapping it again and again until she felt herself spinning helplessly out of control.

His thoughts entered her mind, surrounding her as he sent her over the edge, rippling and tumbling in a waterfall of pleasure. Her hips bucked wildly against his face. She threw back her head and cried out.

The sounds were unfamiliar—but her soul recognized the words of some long-ago language.

Yes, his mind replied in that same lilting tongue. Come home, my love. Come home to me.

And she did. Over and over again.

As her orgasm peaked the pendant began to glow, as if charged by the sexual energy pulsing through her body. It glowed brighter with each cascading wave of pleasure, bathing them both in a cool blue glow.

He kissed and licked his way up her body, tongue swirling like silk along rivulets of water that dripped from her belly and breasts, finally reaching her mouth to capture her final trembling sigh. He held her close as the orgasm subsided, leaving her trembling and weak. Water rushed over their bodies in a soothing caress. She melted against him, tucking her head against the side of his neck and breathing in his scent. The ocean lingered on his skin, leaving the taste of salt and sea on her tongue and she wanted to taste more of him. All of him. She wanted to taste him with every inch of her body, in ways the tongue alone could never capture.

“Tonight,” he promised, wrapping her in a towel and carrying her out of the shower.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes.” He glanced outside where the day was still overcast and gloomy. “I can’t risk being out of the water much longer. But I’ll be back. I promise.”

She knew he was right, but she couldn’t let him leave without telling him how much she needed him, how much she wanted to make love to him.

“Shawn, I want—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “I know. I want it too. More than you can ever imagine.” He rested his forehead against hers. “There’s something you need to know first,” he said. “In my culture…we mate for life. You have to be sure before you take that leap of faith. Take some time to think about that and if that’s truly your desire, we’ll be together the way we were meant to be. Always and forever.”

Forever? But that meant…

She had no doubt that he was who he claimed to be. He came from the sea and she knew that was where he must return. If they truly had a forever, she’d have to join him there. Only moments ago the thought of lost mermaids and romantic castles beneath the sea had captured her imagination with a siren-song appeal, but now in the cold glow of daylight her fear of drowning returned. She shivered. Like a splash of cold water, doubts dampened the afterglow of pleasure.

“Trust me,” he said, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to trust him and believe everything he’d told her, but she needed more time. Time she knew they didn’t have. Two more nights, he’d said. He’d been granted mere days to find his lost soul mate and after that, he’d return to his kingdom beneath the sea—with or without her. If it was without her, she knew she’d never see him again and spend the rest of her life filled with regrets for what might have been. Should have been.

“I have another gift for you,” he said, taking her hand and turning it palm up. Like a magician, he conjured an item from thin air and placed it into her open hand with a flourish.

She gazed down at a fluted clamshell cupped in her palm. The surface shimmered with opalescent swirls, reminding her of Botticelli’s painting of the birth of Venus from the sea. The image was appropriate. Like Venus, she felt reborn into a new sexual awakening.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

He smiled and closed her hand around the shell. “Open it after I leave,” he said. “You’ll know what to do with it.”

With that, he kissed her once more then left as mysteriously as he’d appeared, leaving only the shell in her hand as a reminder that their time together was more than a beautiful dream.

She turned her attention to his gift. The curved lips of the shell were gently parted, like a lover’s lips waiting to be kissed. At the merest touch of her fingertips, the shell opened. Nestled inside were two ornamental balls the size of ripened cherries. Each was made of the same aquamarine-colored stones as the pendant she wore.

She lifted them from their bed and rolled them back and forth in her palm, mesmerized by the play of light and color. Like the pendant, they warmed to her touch, emitting a soft tinkling when they rolled back and forth, as if tiny chimes nestled inside. Each ball seemed to play a different tone. Together they joined in an ethereal harmony unlike anything she’d ever heard before.

She held one to her ear and shook it, recognizing the sound immediately as Shawn’s song. It called to her soul in a way nothing else before ever had, sending up a reverberating echo inside her heart. She felt it expand outward in invisible waves—seeking out the one true tone that would form their destined harmony. She knew on a deep, primal level that Shawn’s song would never be complete without her own.

She shook the other ball and set it singing. The high, clear notes rose in a joyful expression she recognized as uniquely her own. More familiar than the sound of her own voice, the song of her soul blended in perfect harmony with his deeper, richer tones. Together they formed a singular symphony, the perfect balance of man and woman, yin and yang. Soul mates.

She imagined those tones reverberating inside her and setting her body singing. A warm flush rose to her cheeks as she realized exactly what their purpose was. She’d heard of Ben Wa balls, but she’d never been adventurous enough to try them before. Now she was intrigued. Perhaps like the pendant, these stones held magical powers as well. Maybe Shawn’s gift would ease the yearning inside to be filled with his touch—at least until she had the real thing.

Before she could second-guess the instinct, she removed the towel and sat on the edge of the couch, rubbing the balls over her sex-slickened pussy. The warmth of her body merged with the heat of the smooth surface. She spread her legs and pressed them against her opening. The lubricated balls slid easily inside her, first one then the other, making her feel delightfully full inside.

She stood and walked gingerly. With each step, the balls sang inside her, each movement sending a delicious vibration throughout her entire body. Yes, she thought. Shawn was right. I knew exactly what to do with them.

And he’d known exactly what his gift would do to her.

Chapter Four

Kelli slipped on a white linen shirt. She reached for her shorts and then changed her mind, feeling decadent wearing only the long shirt and nothing else. She packed up her art supplies and left the cottage. She was intensely aware of the gentle movements of the balls jostling inside her giving off a slightly metallic vibration with each step. The sensation was incredibly erotic, keeping her swollen and wet and just slightly on the edge of release. The fullness made her ache for more, a constant reminder of what she could look forward to when Shawn returned that evening.

She walked a few dozen yards down the beach, set her easel up on a weathered bluff overlooking the sea and proceeded to paint while the light was still good. She knew that Shawn would come to her as soon as the sun set. She’d be ready and waiting for him.

Whether from the constant feeling of fullness inside her or the promise of what was to come, her painting took on a decidedly erotic feel, with flowing strokes and underwater pastels. She relaxed and let the images flow through her onto the canvas, painting with an abandon and joy she hadn’t felt in years. Her body thrummed with each stroke.

The picture that emerged was a mosaic of images against a backdrop of coral reefs and lush underground grottos. The border was formed by graceful strands of kelp with tiny iridescent fish peeking out from behind the blades. Like an underwater Kama Sutra, the scene depicted couples swimming together and making love in sensuous aquatic positions only possible underwater. The erotic images were beautiful and natural, like this perfect fantasy kingdom beneath the sea. Kelli yearned for the home she only remembered in her dreams, one she’d previously thought of as simply a spark of creative fantasy brought to life on canvas.

Stepping back, she studied the finished painting. It was explicitly sexual, incredibly erotic and intensely personal. It was quite possibly the best painting she’d ever produced.

By the time she was done, the sun had begun to set, turning the world to a velvety dusk. She’d been too intent on her painting to even notice the passage of time. A full moon skirted the horizon, sending an undulating trail of moonlight over the water’s surface.

She sensed Shawn even before she felt his arms slip around her from behind. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

A warm glow enveloped her body, both at his touch and his words. “I painted it for you.”

His hand dipped lower, cupping the fullness of her swollen sex. “And you like my gift?”

“Mmmm…I may never need a man again.”

He chuckled against the side of her neck. “I doubt that.” His fingers teased and stroked, making the balls inside her sing in response. She melted against him, losing herself in erotic sensations more intense than anything she’d ever felt before. The orgasm that had been flirting at the edges of her consciousness all day became even more insistent. Even as his fingertips explored, she knew she wanted more than the quick rush of release. She wanted him inside her, fully and forever.

As if sensing her desire, his fingers expertly entered her and gently removed the balls made warm and slick by her body. He laid them on the lip of her easel and she wasn’t surprised to see they now glowed with the same intensity as the stone nestled between her breasts. All three stones were attuned to her desire, infused with the force of her sexual awakening.

She felt at once empty and expectant. Unable to wait a moment longer, she reached behind and curled her fingers around his shaft, finding him as ready as she was. His body shuddered as she spread her legs and eased his rigid cock toward her slick and swollen entrance.

“Take me now,” she purred. The words reverberated through every cell of her body.

Answering her need, Shawn’s hands slid down to her waist and gripped her tighter against his body. His voice was husky in her ear. “Is this what you truly want?”

“Yes. Oh God, yes!” There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. She wanted him desperately. She couldn’t wait another moment to cradle him inside her. “Please,” she begged.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and placed the other against her lower back, sliding his hand up along her spine to bend her at the waist. She braced hers hands on the corners of the easel and surrendered to him with wild abandon.

In one smooth movement he dipped and plunged, taking her from behind. A groan of pleasure escaped her lips when the thick bulb of his cock forced her open, parting her tight entrance and filling her in a way she’d only dreamed. She was so wet and ready for him.

“More, more, more…” she pleaded.

With a groan of surrender, he plunged deep inside her, deeper than she’d ever felt before. Her mind screamed yes, but all that came out was a low, throaty growl. Her walls tightened around him, pulsing and caressing his thick cock with each thrust and locking them together in a heated mating.

This was what she’d been waiting for, she realized. Not just for the last few hours, but all her life. She’d been born to mate with this man and had spent a lifetime not knowing what it was she had waited for.

His movements quickened, his grip on her flesh tightening as he pounded and thrust into her again and again. Her legs shook and her arms locked tight, her body rocking viciously until she was sure she would shove her easel over the bluff to tumble into the sea. Her orgasm rose in a rush—primal and wild and impossible to contain. Her entire body went rigid, prepared for that final reckless leap over the edge.

“Now,” she cried out. “Oh God, now!”

But her words were unnecessary. He’d sensed her need before she’d even spoken and plunged fast and furious, riding the edge of her orgasm until they both exploded in a mind-shattering climax. They came together and this, more than any words she could give him, was the answer she knew he’d been waiting for.

He held her tightly as their orgasms rushed through them, around them, binding them together for all eternity. She straightened and leaned back against his chest, weak and trembling, his cock still firmly nestled inside her. He nuzzled the side of her neck, murmuring wordless endearments she understood on some deep, primal level. His hands circled her breasts and plucked at her sensitive nipples through the shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her center.

His movements gentled now, less urgent as their bodies settled into a more leisurely rhythm of lovemaking, surprising each of them with little aftershocks that ebbed and flowed then slowly receded in a warm, leisurely current. Slowly they came back to reality.

When she opened her eyes, she was still facing the sea. A shudder rippled through her body, part passion and part fear. This, she knew, was the final hurdle she had yet to overcome. She’d already given Shawn her heart and her body. But was that enough to overshadow the anxiety still gripping her mind?

As if sensing she’d already withdrawn from him, he slipped out of her, leaving her feeling empty and hollow inside. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, unwilling to let him go. She had to try. She had to conquer her fear once and for all or risk losing the one person who finally gave meaning to her life.

His voice came to her mind more clearly now, as if making love had strengthened the connection between them. His words were both comforting and understanding. I’ll be with you, he said. I’ll always be right by your side.

She nodded and took his hand. Together they descended the bluff and walked to the shore.

They reached the edge of the sea and stopped. Gentle waves lapped at her feet, the water shifting the sand beneath her. Gazing out at the sea, she harnessed that sense of utter peace that came over her whenever she was near the water. All the worries and fears slipped from her shoulders, dissolving into mist. But could she take the final plunge?

The combined glow of their pendants surged over the sea, rivaling the moonlight rippling over the water’s surface. The twin beams merged at a distant point near the horizon then disappeared from view, beckoning her to follow the path into the deep unknown.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked, breaking the silence. He gestured toward the horizon. “This is home. Mine as well as yours.”

“Home,” she said. It felt right. No place before had ever felt like home—not the numerous foster homes, nor the apartment she rented alone in a cold, uncaring city.

She took a step forward, feeling the inexorable tug of the sea on her soul. “Home,” she whispered as the water reached her ankles, her calves then her thighs. She moved forward in a trancelike state, hearing the music of the waves blending with the song of the man by her side.

He stopped her before she could go any farther. “Not yet,” he said. “You’ve been land-bound most of your life. You’ll need time to acclimate back to the sea.”

At her puzzled stare, he brushed a fingertip along her cheek and murmured softly, “My little lost mermaid.”

Lost. Yes. She’d been lost for so long. And now he’d found her.

Kelli suddenly felt constricted by her clothes. The light linen shirt felt like an intrusion between her skin and the water. As soon as the thought entered her mind, Shawn reached down and gathered the material at her waist. She raised her arms and let him slide the shirt up and over her head, leaving her naked beside him.

She felt natural and free. Water tickled her skin like a lover’s caress. Her nipples hardened, as sensitive to the moist air as they would be to his teeth, his tongue, his lips. As the water rose to the lower curve of her bottom, a wave of lust rolled deep within her groin.

He took her in his arms and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he strode forward, carrying her deeper into the water. She held her breath, fighting the fear as water rose to her waist then lapped at the lower curve of her breasts. He stopped, giving her time to acclimate. The water was cool and soothing to her body, yet still her mind rebelled.

His hands clenched her bottom, lifting her up gently then bringing her down again onto his shaft. The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever imagined, both liquid and solid combined as she slid down until he was firmly planted inside her. The heat of his body merged with the cool water. Both sea and man entered her as one, as if they were joining not just with each other but with the water as well.

This time they made love slowly, playfully. He dipped and swirled her in the waves, entering her with long, slow strokes that churned the water in lazy currents around them.

He eased her backward until just the tips of her hair brushed the surface, then lowered his head and lapped at her breasts, teasing and nibbling her nipples until they ached. His tongue circled over and around each swollen nub, licking the saltwater from her skin with sensuous swirls.

She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist to anchor herself then slowly, hesitantly, leaned back to float her upper body on the surface of the water, letting the sea cradle her like a mother embracing her long-lost child. Her hair fanned out around her head in silky black waves. Released from the pull of gravity, she floated easily and effortlessly.

“My beautiful mermaid,” he murmured.

“Yours,” she replied. The single word resonated through her entire body, filling her with wonder and desire.

He pulled her into his arms in a wordless embrace. She clung to him, feeling a stillness surround them. In that stillness, all her senses burst to life. She felt the soothing caress of the water, smelled the sweetness of the night breeze, heard the rhythmic rise and fall of the waves and tasted the saltwater on his lips when he captured her mouth possessively.

She parted her lips, meeting his tongue with her own. Now they were joined in every way possible, right down to the pendants pressed heart to heart between them. She luxuriated in the deepening kiss, returning each sweep of his tongue with her own as she explored every inch of his hot mouth with growing hunger.

Slowly he lowered them until they were shoulder-deep in the water. He rocked his hips, using the water’s buoyancy to slide her up and down his thick shaft with little or no effort from her. The slow, steady thrusts made her heart race, seducing her to new and insatiable desires.

She pressed her lips to the side of his neck and felt his pulse race when she left hot little love bites along his skin. She ran the tips of her fingernails down his back in a teasing trail and ground her hips against his in quickening circles, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone until she wanted to scream for release.

He made a low growl and answered with a deep plunge. She arched her back as his pelvis thrust upward, lifting her out of the water then back again. A spray of droplets cascaded around them like jewels exploding from the sea. Their every movement was intensified by the rush of cool water against her heated skin. Each time she settled back onto his cock, he filled her fully and completely and their frenzied lovemaking churned the sea into wild waves around them.

When she came again, her orgasm flowed over and through her in hot, rushing waves. She felt him erupt inside her and held on tightly as their bodies shuddered together. She knew now she could never let him go. Somehow she had to find the strength to reject a lifetime of fear in order to fully embrace the future he offered.

She felt him withdrawing. Don’t leave yet! her mind cried out.

He glanced at the moon, already full on the horizon. “I must. It’s only your song that tethers me to land. But even so, my time here is limited. I must return to the sea.” He lifted her chin and held her gaze. “Tomorrow, my love. When the moon guides my return, I’ll come back for you.”

Although the words were unspoken, she felt the true meaning behind his statement.

If she didn’t return with him tomorrow night, they’d both be doomed to live alone, forever divided by the unforgiving sea.

* * * * *

Kelli spent the next day hovering between anticipation and dread. She was overcome by an inexpressible longing for both the man and his kingdom beneath the sea. She yearned for the promise of a life with her one true love. No longer feeling alone in a lonely world, but cherished and loved for all time. All she had to do was choose love over fear.

The day had been overcast and gloomy. When dusk came, so did the storm that had been threatening to break loose all day. The skies darkened and rain fell in sheets. Even the moon was hidden by the thundering clouds. Kelli stood at the window, waiting and watching.

She thought back to all the things Shawn had told her. He’d said the moon would guide him back. But the moon was hidden by clouds. What if he couldn’t find his way back to her? Tonight was the final night he could walk freely on land. If he couldn’t return, would they lose their only chance to be reunited?

She couldn’t bear the thought.

Heedless of the storm, she ran out to the bluff where she’d painted…was it only yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago. She searched the roiling sea, but there was no sign of Shawn. Her fear of the water was overshadowed by an even stronger fear that she’d never see him again.

She cried out his name, but her voice was drowned out by the pounding torrent. She opened her mind, reaching out mentally to draw him to her. Her voice rose in the song of her birth—her mating cry. It was the song he’d taught her to hear, the song that bound them together. Would he hear her and come?

And if not—could she finally find the courage to go to him instead?

Then she heard his voice as clearly as when he’d spoken the words yesterday in the cabin.

You have to be sure before you take that leap of faith.

She was sure. All she had to do was prove it…to Shawn and to herself.

“A leap of faith,” she said aloud, embracing the idea.

She stripped out of her clothes and stepped to the edge of the bluff. Rain pelted her skin. Still there was no sign of Shawn, but she trusted that he’d hear her song and find her. She sent it out over the sea like a beacon, keeping his image in her mind.

Without the moon’s guidance, would her call be strong enough to lead him to her? He’d done it once before, but now the night was so black he might not find his way. Maybe he was already beyond her reach.

No! She knew without a doubt that distance couldn’t separate them. They were bound together. Two hearts, two souls, one eternal life.

She wrenched the pendant from around her neck and held it aloft. The aquamarine sparkled against the velvety night sky. She poured her will into it, making it glow. Energy flowed up from the soles of her feet through her core, up and into the stone, charging it with every emotion in her being until it glowed bright and strong like a beacon in the night.

“Come to me,” she cried out, sending her siren call out to the sea. “Find me, Shawn! Let my love guide you.”

She placed the necklace back around her neck, feeling the warm glow suffuse her entire body…

Then she let go and rushed forward into the sea’s embrace.

She felt herself falling then suddenly plunging beneath the water. Down, down, down. She held her breath and fought the urge to surface. She wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t leave the water without her soul mate.

Before the fear could drown her, she felt arms come around her, lifting and buoying her in the water. Her lungs screamed for air but his voice calmed her. Let it go, he coaxed. Let go of the fear. Breathe in the life-giving water you were born to.

She released the last bubble of air from her lungs. This is it, she thought. Either she let go and trusted him or she was doomed.

He pressed his mouth to hers and breathed into it, parting her lips with a sweep of his tongue. She felt the sweet rush of cool water enter her mouth. His kiss deepened and instead of struggling for air, she found herself giving herself up to the water’s embrace. It filled her, flowing through her and washing the fear away.

She opened her eyes and saw him swimming before her, even more beautiful and graceful underwater than on land. Forgotten memories jostled her mind like insistent waves—memories of underwater castles and bodies unfettered by clothes or gravity. She knew that these were memories that had been locked away and struggling for expression in her paintings.

She’d been shackled and land-bound all of her life. Now his love had finally set her free. He took her in his arms and showed her how to swim, using gentle movements of her body to glide gracefully through the water. It felt natural, light and more exhilarating than she’d ever felt in her life.

They rode the currents, looping and diving and spiraling with childlike abandon. This time when she spoke his name, it sounded exactly the way he’d first given it to her. She was speaking his language—her language. The language of the sea.

You came for me, she thought.

He shook his head and smiled. No. You came for me.

Yes. She had. And as they swam together toward their future, she knew she’d come for him again and again.

Underwater, their pendants glowed even brighter, turning the depths of the sea blue and marking their way. Everything around them took on a watercolor quality in the aquamarine glow, as if her paintings had come to life and invited her inside.

No longer following his lead, she surged ahead into the path of light to the place of her imagination. Unafraid and with her mate by her side, Kelli made her way home.

Lady’s Choice

Rebecca Airies

Chapter One

Wonderful! Kyna Deacon glared up at the flickering lights in the tan-colored ceiling. She’d barely finished unloading the crates of supplies in the kitchen when the power had failed. Neither the door nor the comm station worked. The safety programs had obviously failed.

She sighed. The lights faded. Complete darkness surrounded her. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face. The joys of being stationed on a base on an uncolonized world.

She ran her damp palms down her pant legs. It didn’t help that she could feel the edge of one of the work tables against her hip. The darkness felt almost solid and she had to fight the feeling that she was trapped.

The lights flickered on again but were now very dim. She looked over at the stack of boxes—she couldn’t leave them unattended. It went against Laurati policy. Settling more comfortably against the counter, she resigned herself to a long wait. Someone would already be working on the problem. Hopefully she wouldn’t be here all night.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she heard a scraping noise on a door on the other side of the room. The metal panel scraped as it jerked to the side. She saw a slender gap in the door. Dark brown fingers curled around the edge and pushed the sliding door into the wall.

A large dark-haired man wearing the dark green Calazi uniform stepped into the room. His broad shoulders and tall muscled body made the doorway seem smaller than it was. His green eyes swept the room and locked on her. A wide smile curved his lips, softening the harsh rugged lines of his face.

“I thought you might be here. We saw you in the hall as you were coming this way but I don’t think you saw us,” Commander Finn Tarn offered, a friendly smile on his face. The crinkles at his eyes creased the black tattoo at his temple.

No, she hadn’t noticed him this time. She had seen him a few other times and knew that “we” must mean the other black-haired Calazi commander. That black hair was almost the only thing they had in common. This man reminded her of a fierce powerful warrior, especially with his flatter nose. The other man wasn’t flabby, but the muscles weren’t as obvious beneath the sun-touched gold of his skin.

The Calazi intrigued her. As a people, they were inventive and adaptable. They’d had to be to survive on a dying world. Their culture was very different from the Laurati culture. She’d always wondered how their social structure had come to be. Calazi males had a tendency to join with another male as lover and partner, then together they would choose a woman to complete their bond.

“Actually, I didn’t think anyone was in this section, Commander Tarn. Do you know if this is going to last long? I don’t know if any of this is perishable.” Kyna gestured to the boxes but didn’t take her eyes off the large, very attractive man in front of her. She wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to look at him.

He frowned as he studied the boxes. “No, that shouldn’t have anything perishable. It should be plates and utensils. As to the power I don’t know. This isn’t a planned downtime. I’m afraid until it comes back on, we’re stuck in this section. Come on out into the dining room.”

“I have to stay with the boxes until the kitchen staff claims it.” She was more than tempted to just leave the boxes and join him but she focused on her duty and her goals. If she wanted to advance, she couldn’t make any stupid mistakes. She had to stand out in dedication and performance. Especially with her history being what it was.

He looked at her, his head tilted to the side as he considered her. She knew he was thinking of ways to change her mind. She didn’t try to tell him he wouldn’t succeed. A man didn’t get to his rank without a certain arrogance. Besides, she enjoyed hearing that deep voice and the company even though his size made the room seem even smaller.

He strolled over to her, unhurried and confident. Stopping right in front of her, he was close enough to touch—and too tempting. His musky essence teased her nostrils. She tensed her muscles to keep her hands at her side. She kept reminding herself that he was her commanding officer. He was off-limits.

His hand lifted and trailed over her cheek. Her breath locked in her throat. Her surprise kept her totally frozen. She’d never expected him to touch her. This close, she could see the heat in his green eyes. She couldn’t mistake his interest. She gulped and just stopped herself from shaking her head.

His finger traced over her lips. “Are you sure you want to stay in here?”

She managed to nod.

Commander Tarn smiled and turned to the door. As he went through it, she sighed. She hadn’t really wanted him to leave, but she couldn’t expect him to stay in the kitchen.

After the commander left Kyna wanted to rush after him, but she stayed where she was. Knowing that he was just in the other room sent her thoughts along impossible paths. He and the other commander would be in charge of this base for at least two years. Getting involved with either of them wouldn’t help her achieve her goals.

Movement again drew her eyes to the door. This time she saw the other Calazi commander, Drace Amon, step into the open doorway. His face was leaner and more angular than Commander Tarn’s and he also had a tattoo at his left temple. For a moment, she enjoyed his watching his toned, athletic body. His golden skin enhanced the bright silver of his eyes. She thought she saw a hint of irritation there. Somehow the idea of annoying him sparked a perverse sense of amusement in her.

“Finn tells me you want to stand sentry over boxes of dishes. While I find your adherence to the letter of your orders admirable, in this case it’s ridiculous. We’re the only people in this section. No one’s going to take the plates. Get out here and sit down in a comfortable chair. That’s an order.” Commander Amon leveled a hard look at her and stood, waiting, staring at her.

Kyna dropped her gaze before he did. This base was a joint effort by the Calazi and her people, the Laurati. As the first commanders of the base, Amon and Tarn were her superior officers. She took a deep breath, looked once at the pile of boxes and took a step toward Commander Amon. She just hoped none of those plates went missing while she was gone. The last thing she needed was any hint of theft on her record.

The commander watched as she paced around him and followed her out into the large dining room. By the padded chairs and large tables she knew this was the officers’ dining area. Lower-ranking soldiers wouldn’t have this space and luxury. The general dining quarters were likely furnished with long tables and hard chairs—the kind of furniture that didn’t invite lingering over a meal. The exact opposite of this room.

“Sit and we’ll talk while they get the power up. It shouldn’t take them long.” Commander Tarn gestured to a black chair he had pulled out from a nearby table.

She glanced at the cushioned chair and took a seat. Even as she sank into its softness, she wondered what they’d talk about. It really wasn’t likely that she’d have much in common with two Calazi commanders.

She watched as they drew two chairs closer to her. When they sat they were within easy reach. She looked from the angular features of Commander Amon to the square features of Commander Tarn. “Commander Amon,” she said, “if you have any questions about me or my record, I’ll be happy to answer them.” She bit her lip for a moment before she forced her face into a relaxed mask. A performance review was the only reason she could think of for them to want to talk to her.

The commander smiled. “My name is Drace. There’s no reason for you to be so formal.” His hand settled on her thigh just above her knee.

Kyna couldn’t misinterpret that move and she certainly couldn’t miss the heat in both men’s eyes. She licked her lips nervously. She wanted to put her palm over his and slide his hand higher. That was something she couldn’t deny. But she couldn’t forget they were both her superiors within this complex. Getting involved with either of them was a very bad idea.

“There’s every reason to be formal. You’re one of the commanding officers of this facility and I’ve been assigned here.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sat stiffly in her chair, but she couldn’t make herself push his hand off her leg. Frustrated at the conflict inside her, she wondered if this was all because she’d been nearly a year without sex. Did the warmth and weight of his hand feel so good because she needed a good fuck or was the genuine attraction really that strong?

“I’m your commanding officer, but we won’t be so formal here. We’re setting up an outpost that will eventually be a colony for both our worlds.” Commander Amon patted her hand gently but then withdrew. “I think you’ll see more than a few of the normal rules get tossed away and forgotten.”

The lights flickered again and faded. Kyna drew in a sharp breath and her heart kicked into a faster pace. What now?

“Puran!” The growled curse word came from her left, so she guessed Commander Amon had said it.

“So I guess this means the main power will not be coming on again soon?” Kyna asked.

“It’s not good. I’m going to see if I can find my way back into the kitchen. There should be an emergency kit with a light in there.” Drace’s hand again settled briefly on her knee. “Finn will be with you.”

She swallowed heavily and nodded, not even realizing he couldn’t see her until he’d moved away. As the sounds of his steps faded, she stared into the inky blackness around her feeling utterly alone. Logically, she knew Commander Tarn was within reach, but the lack of any light seemed so isolating.

Hands touched her thighs and slid up to her hips. She tensed and yelped as she was lifted out of her chair. Strong hands held her as she was lowered onto a strong thigh, but he wasn’t in the chair he’d been sitting in before the lights had faded. The hands smoothly drew her even lower—she realized he must have left his chair and sat on the floor.

“I like this better than sitting all alone in the dark.” His arms tightened around her.

She did too, but didn’t know how to say it without admitting just how much the total darkness bothered her. His arms felt so good around her, she wanted nothing more than to cuddle into them and forget everything else. She just couldn’t get past the fact that he was the commanding officer of the base.

“If you don’t like being held, if you really want to sit on your own, I’ll put you beside me.” His hand brushed lightly over her arm.

That gentle touch nearly had her leaning into him and putting her arms around him. For some reason, she had the almost undeniable urge to reassure him. That was probably the last thing he needed. A man didn’t get to his position without a huge amount of confidence. Still, she wouldn’t lie.

“It’s not that. It’s just not professional for me to be in your arms.” She lifted her hand and her fingers bumped against his before she managed to put her hand over his.

He remained silent for a long moment. She started to wonder if he was having second thoughts.

“We’re trapped in this section,” Commander Tarn said gently. “We might be able to get a few of the other doors open, but the door to the main hall is too heavy and has an auto-lock. While we’re locked in here, we have no ranks, no hierarchy. All right?”

Kyna swallowed heavily. Once he said it she couldn’t stop her mind from expanding on his idea. With no rank between them, there was nothing to stop her from kissing him—if not more. Even with the rank and duty as a block, she couldn’t deny how attractive she found both of these men.

She gnawed on her lip and exhaled slowly. There were two choices—remain professional or let desire rule for once. She couldn’t let this chance slip away from her. In the years ahead, she’d most likely only have duty and her honor and memories. She wasn’t going to live with the regret of walking away from this opportunity.

“No duty, no superior officers here. Only a woman and two men,” she agreed. Her heart seemed to be pounding against her chest partly because of a little anxious fear but mostly in anticipation.

“Well, the first thing you can do is call me Finn.” He pulled her closer until she was leaning against him.

His breath feathered through her hair. She gave in to the urge to nestle against him and feel the strength of his muscled chest beneath her cheek. Even through his shirt she could feel the heat of his body. He smelled absolutely wonderful and she didn’t think that musky essence came from a bottle.

“If there’s a first, what’s the second thing, Finn?” she asked. The cloak of darkness made it easier to relax, to let herself fall into the fantasy.

“Kiss me. I want to feel those lips beneath mine,” he said.

Her hand slid up his chest and she found his cheek in the darkness. Her lips brushed over his cheek before she found his lips. She could feel her cheeks heating with embarrassment. His warm, slightly sweet breath puffed over her lips. She lapped at his lips, tracing their shape with her tongue.

His mouth opened beneath hers and suddenly he wasn’t a passive participant. His arm cradled her back as his mouth slanted across hers aggressively. She tasted sweet spice as his tongue drove into her mouth.

With the unremitting black surrounding them every sound, every touch seemed sharper, more intense. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself when her senses went wild at the feel of his lips and tongue. Her hands stroked over the soft cloth at his shoulders. His shoulders shifted beneath her hands and a deep moan rolled against her lips.

She felt his hand brush against her thigh and drew in a sharp breath as tingles danced over her skin. The nipping sting of his teeth on her lip distracted her from the path of his fingers over her stomach.

“You taste good, deliciously sweet. I want to see if you taste that way all over.” He placed kisses along her jaw.

Her mind automatically supplied images of his mouth trailing over her breasts, her belly and lower. She shivered and felt liquid coating the lips of her pussy. By the great Prishu, she wanted to feel his lips and tongue everywhere. She shifted in his lap, leaning into him.

His hand cupped her breast, his thumb circling the hard nipple. “You have perfect breasts. Can I touch them without the cloth?”

“Oh yes,” she answered on a sigh and her hands dropped to her shirt and began unfastening it.

His fingers traced along the underside of her breast. His fingertip felt warm and slightly rough. Flutters of sensation followed his touch to the upper swell of her breast. His thumb flicked over the hardened peak a moment before he took the distended nub between his fingers. Her back arched as sensation shot straight to her core.

The feeling was so intense that she didn’t notice the absence of his warm breath over her lips until she instead felt it against the base of her neck. His teeth grazed her collarbone. She shivered as his kisses and nips marked a trail down her neck. She never knew whether she’d feel his lips, tongue or teeth and that made her arousal more intense with each touch.

When his mouth closed over her nipple, she moaned and her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. One large hand slid down her belly, pausing to circle her navel with teasing fingers. She wriggled at the prickling tingles the touch drew and groaned with regret as her nipple slipped from his lips.

His hand cupped her pussy in a bold claiming at the same moment that his tongue flicked her nipple. She jerked, feeling as if a hot brand of intense pleasure seared through her. Her body trembled and she knew she was only a few breaths away from an intense climax.

A bright light flashed, lancing across her eyes and momentarily blinding her. She lifted a hand and scowled at the offending beam. She could have cheerfully hit the man behind that light. Her frustration sizzled over raw nerve endings, leaving an empty ache.

“Looks like I came at a bad time.” Commander Amon set the light on the floor to the side and changed the setting to a less blinding one. He put an extra unlit lamp just to the right.

“Your timing is very bad in this case but I’ll forgive you.” Finn pulled his hand from between her legs and gently patted her on the thigh. “I don’t know about her, though. We’ve agreed that until we’re out of here, there is no rank. We’re just men and a woman.”

Commander Amon tilted his head and eyed her with consideration. “You mean I might actually get to hear her call me Drace?”

Her pussy clenched, reminding her of just how close she’d been to a fantastic orgasm. She knew several things she’d like to call him and none of them involved his given name. Even with desire boiling inside her, she noticed he looked worried.

“Is something wrong?” she asked as she pulled her shirt closed. Her body protested the loss of Finn’s touch. But now that a little of the desire had faded and her head had cleared she considered Drace’s sober expression.

“We have problems. The backup should never have failed, but if it did there’s another backup that should have activated by now. This base was built with triple redundancy for the power system.” Drace’s lips firmed.

“And since they haven’t? What happened?” Kyna had an idea what he was going to say, and she dreaded it.

“The power had to be turned off. Someone wants one of the power cells.” Finn’s arm tightened around her.

The Calazi had built most of the underground complex and it was their unique power cells that supplied all of the base’s energy. That was technology the Laurati didn’t have. There were some factions within the Laurati who would do anything to get that.

“But whoever did it will have to turn on the power to get out of the base. You should be able to stop him.” She looked at both of them and saw their slowly shaking heads. “He won’t?”

“No, there’s an emergency access tunnel that leads to the surface,” Drace told her with a grimace.

“So we could be locked in here until someone on the ships notices that there’s something wrong. And the thief will get away with your power cell.” Kyna frowned, wondering if she’d missed something. They didn’t look upset enough about that.

“It will be a day and a half before the people on our ship get alarmed. The thief won’t succeed. He’ll get the cell out of the base, but it won’t be usable. It has to be carried in a special case. There aren’t any on this base.” Finn’s smile held satisfaction.

“So we’ll be here at least a day and a half. In the dark. What about fresh air?” She tried to combat her disbelief with calm.

“Well, not in the dark. In three or four hours, the backup will come on automatically, but it’s minimal. Lights and air. The main doors still won’t open and we won’t have communications.” Drace’s smile held more than a touch of smug anticipation. “We’re lucky. We have food and facilities.”

He was right, they were lucky in that respect. That they would have light at some point soon did reassure her. There were others on the base who wouldn’t have food at hand. The base was still being supplied and most of the staff hadn’t come to the surface yet.

“Shouldn’t the doors be connected to the emergency power, just in case the place needs to be evacuated?” she asked.

Finn leveled a hard look at her. “New system, there are still a few bugs. This particular bug is part of an override protocol in case of a fire or explosion.”

“Since we’ve finished with the dissection, I need to tell you that walking in to find you cuddled in Finn’s arms was very interesting. Would you care to try out mine, too?” Drace’s eyes roved over her face and then dropped to her breast.

Chapter Two

Drace studied the deliciously curved woman sitting in the circle of light from one of the emergency lamps he’d found. Her black hair fell to just past her shoulders, the ends curling a little. She stared across the room at Finn as he gathered cushions. Her pink tongue slicked over full, luscious lips. Her attraction and desire wasn’t in question. He could see it in the way she watched them and the way her body turned toward them.

“Are you hungry?” Drace asked.

She looked at him, a blush reddening her cheeks. The color flared over her pale and creamy skin. She blinked at him with big gold eyes. She’d been staring at him with almost the same expression when he’d first asked if she wanted to sit with him. She’d gotten flustered and he hadn’t pressed. Her attraction to both him and Finn was obvious. He just had to let her get used to the idea of two men.

The opportunity to move the seduction to the next level wouldn’t be one he let pass. He knew she thought of this as a very short affair brought on by unusual circumstances. That wasn’t the way he saw it. He’d just have to change her mind.

“I’m getting a little hungry,” Kyna said. “I can go in there and see what I can find for us to eat.” She offered a smile as she rose to her feet.

He wasn’t about to let her go in there alone. He wanted to be with her and wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get close to her. The thought of touching her, kissing her had an immediate effect on his body.

“That sounds like a good idea.” He stood, grabbed the spare light and followed her into the kitchen. She went to the cabinets and began opening them searching for food. Her full black-clad hips swayed and her ass bounced just slightly with every step. His cock hardened as he followed. He wanted to get his hands on that ass. Those curves would move and cushion a man when he drove into her from behind. He had to taste her.

When she found nothing in the cabinet she was searching, she turned. Right into his arms. He didn’t pounce, although he wanted to. She drew in a startled breath and her eyes searched his for a moment. Her tongue slicked over her lips.

“I thought you were hungry,” she said.

“For you. Will you kiss me?” He took a step forward and his hands gripped the counter at her side.

She nodded and rose on her tiptoes. Her lips softly brushed across his. He didn’t wait for another invitation. His lips slanted across hers, his tongue probing, seeking entrance to her mouth. Her lips opened and her tongue brushed against his. A sweet spicy taste flooded his mouth. He deepened the kiss, wanting more.

Her hand lifted, cupping the back of his neck. He stepped forward and grasped her hips. Lifting her onto the counter, he stepped between her thighs. Her breasts flattened against his chest and her hard nipples poked against him. It was sheer torment. His cock pressed against the soft cloth-covered pad of her pussy. Just the feel of her against his shaft almost ripped away the last of his control.

He trailed his hands up her sides. The blue and black fabric annoyed him. He wanted to feel the soft warmth of her skin, not the serviceable cloth of her uniform. His fingers brushed the underside of her breasts and cupped their full weight.

“You have such beautiful breasts. When I saw you in Finn’s arms, I wanted to go over there and take one of those nipples into my mouth.” Drace drew his thumb over the hard bead as he began unfastening her shirt with his free hand. “Do you want me to do that now?”

She arched as the fabric parted, thrusting her breasts forward. “Taste them.”

The pale mounds with the berry-colored nipples riveted his attention. He bent and nipped at the swell of her breasts. She jerked, drawing in a sharp gasp. The hand at the back of his neck tightened. Her reaction caused him to pause. He didn’t want her scared. Raising his head, he met her eyes. Hunger burned there and a flush of arousal colored her cheeks.

His lips closed over her nipple and he flicked his tongue over the stiff, red bead. A soft moan fell from her lips and her thighs tightened around his hips. He drew on the nipple. She squirmed, holding his head tight against her. He cupped her other breast and squeezed the full globe.

“More,” she demanded.

He could feel her nails digging into his neck and he felt the quick beat of her heart. Her eager reaction thrilled him and he completely agreed with her wish for more. He needed more than the feel of her thighs gripping his. His cock ached and his balls had drawn tight. He wanted everything. His mind churned with thoughts of driving into her hot pussy, feeling her curvy soft body moving against his. The thought of her naked and hungry tore through the last of his control.

He straightened and his hands moved to the snap on her black pants. She wriggled and lifted her hips as he pulled the pants and her underwear down her legs, taking her slip-on shoes in the same motion.

She pushed at the restraining material over his chest. “Your shirt—take it off.”

He pulled the shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Her fingers spread across his chest, tracing the black design of the tattoo on the left side of his chest. Her touch felt so good. Fire seemed to follow the path of her soft hands. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, letting her feel all of his hunger.

Her hands found the fastening of his pants. She had them open in less time than it took him to draw in a breath. Moving quickly, he grabbed her hands before she could touch his cock. His control wouldn’t survive the feel of her fingers circling him, much less extended play. He wanted to come inside her, not in her hands. Smiling down at her, he lifted her hands to his shoulders.

“Hold on to me,” he urged. He brushed kisses over her reddened lips.

He reached between them, brushing his fingers over her over the bare lips of her glistening pussy. He flicked at the hard bead of her clit. She whimpered, her body arching. Moving lower, he slipped a finger into her sheath. She had to be ready for him. Liquid heat surrounded his finger. Fitting his cock to her entrance, he slowly pushed past the clenching muscles at her entrance. He drew in a hissing breath as his shaft seemed to be pulled even deeper into her. Her muscles rippled over his shaft, threatening his control.

Her fingers swept down his sides and she gripped his buttocks. Strong fingers tightened, squeezing and pulling him tight against her. Her nails sunk into his flesh. Jerking, he swore as her searing heat streaked over his cock.

Her thighs clenched around his hips. She looked up at him and growled through clenched teeth, “Move.”

He groaned. There was no way he could stop from moving. He withdrew and rocked forward slowly. He wanted to drive into her, but he wouldn’t take his pleasure before she found hers. He ground his hips against hers.

A shudder rippled over her and her head fell back. He could tell that she was only breaths away from climax. She moaned and her inner muscles squeezed his cock tighter. He withdrew and drove deep again and again. Her nails sank into his skin as she cried out.

Her tight pussy constricted, pulling at his cock. He felt the beginning of his release and continued to thrust into her. Fiery pleasure shot up his spine as he came. His seed spurted into her.

He rested his head against hers and drew in ragged breaths. He could still feel the hot sensation rippling through his body. Since he’d first seen her, he’d imagined what their first time would be like. He’d never imagined anything that hot. She’d seared him with her passion.

“Damn, Drace, on the counter? I was fixing a very comfortable bed of cushions out there.” Finn’s voice echoed in the kitchen.

Drace saw Kyna’s blush, but he also noticed her smile. She looked amused.

“Maybe he’s afraid the doors will open and our time will end. I’m a little afraid of that myself,” she added softly.

He smiled but didn’t say anything about her fear. She felt that way because she saw this as a temporary one-time affair. He and Finn wanted more than that. She wasn’t ready to hear it. They’d only intended to get her attention, but now that they were stuck here, they would take advantage of the situation.

“Come on out here with me. Drace can find us something to eat. He’s had you all to himself long enough.” Finn walked over and held his hand out to her.

Drace stepped back. She slipped off the counter and bent to grab her clothes. With hurried movements, she slipped them on before she put her hand into Finn’s large palm. Drace watched the sway of her hips, the flex of her buttocks as she walked out of the room.

Kyna looked so sexy sprawled on the cushions. A satisfied smile curved her lips. One gorgeous leg was bent at the knee, the other tucked under her. The position sent Finn’s thoughts straight to what he’d like to do on that bed.

He moved a chair to the table he’d brought over to the makeshift bed. He loved watching her. He just hoped the mood continued after the meal. It was time to tell her a few truths. At least if she became angry she wouldn’t be able to go very far and they’d have a chance to explain and ease her anger.

“You look like you’re thinking heavy thoughts,” Kyna said suddenly. “You must be worried about who took your power cell.” Her arms curled around his waist and she hugged him from behind.

He stiffened. He hadn’t heard her move. Her nipples pressed against his back. He could feel the hard tips even through the thin fabric of his shirt. He drew in a deep breath and resisted the urge to turn around and press her to the cushions. Seeing her and Drace together in the kitchen had only made the ache in his cock worse than when Drace had interrupted them.

“We’ll find out who stole the power cell. No, I was thinking about something else.” He put his hands over hers.

“What something else?” Her fingers lightly tickled his stomach.

“We’ll talk about it after we eat,” Drace said as he came into the room with a tray.

Finn felt Kyna jerk and tense behind him. He held her hands where they were for just a little longer before letting her step back. She stepped around him and rested her hands on the back of the chair near her.

When Drace put the tray down, she began putting the plates and cups on the table. All the food and even the drinks had come already prepared in packages. At this point, it was the only food on the base. Finn took three bottles of water then lifted the now-empty tray from the table and put it to the side. The lights overhead flickered on and off before finally coming back to half power.

Kyna sat in one of the seats, looking over the food in front of her. Finn smiled, enjoying how relaxed she looked right now. Her easy mood lasted through the meal. When she finished before they did, she sat back, sipping her water, and seemed content to wait for them to finish eating.

Finn put down his fork and took a deep breath. This couldn’t be delayed. She had to be told. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned doing it. He’d always thought they’d have days or weeks to let her learn about them before the relationship became sexual.

“There are some things about today that you should know.” Drace put his cup down and his silver-blue eyes locked on their lady.

Finn recognized that look and almost felt a little sorry for Kyna. Determination sizzled in Drace’s pale eyes. Even if Kyna tried to walk away from them, totally reject them, she’d be facing fierce opposition. From both of them. Neither of them would stand by and let her dismiss them.

“What do I need to know that I don’t already?” There was confusion in her golden eyes.

“You being in this section, alone with us, wasn’t an accident.” Finn stated baldly. Getting the facts out quickly could be best. There was no way of making this look like anything but what it was, an attempt to get her attention.

She frowned, the confusion obvious. “What do you mean? I was here because I was ordered to bring the supplies to this section.”

“We arranged that order. We wanted to spend some time with you, get to know you.” Drace’s palms flattened on the table and he leaned forward, watching her.

“You wanted to get to know me… You arranged for the power to go out? No wonder you aren’t worried about your power cell.” She blinked as her jaw dropped. She thrust a hand through her hair, stood and began pacing.

Drace was already on his feet. His hands remained on the table, but his eyes followed every step Kyna took. Finn sighed. Much more of those accusations and Drace wouldn’t bother explaining.

“No, Kyna, we didn’t arrange for the power to go out. We only planned that first fluctuation. We wanted some uninterrupted time with you, to talk without our rank interfering.” Finn remained seated. He knew his size could intimidate some people and he didn’t want her backing away even more.

“Because you wanted to get to know me…” She exhaled harshly and closed her eyes. “You don’t know anything about me and if you did, you’d run as far and fast away from me as you could.”

Finn tilted his head. Certainty had rung in her voice when she’d made that claim. He’d seen her personnel record. There wasn’t a bad mark on it.

“What would make us run from you?” Drace asked. His arms crossed over his chest and his head was tilted in an arrogant challenging manner.

“My father—” she began.

Drace’s cut her off. “Something your father did would not make us change our minds about you. We want you, not your ancestral line.” Drace took a step closer right into Kyna’s path.

She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Why would you want me? We’ve barely met.”

“We’re attracted to you and we saw that you were attracted to us. The few times we did meet, you were focused on your duties. You barely noticed us. We wanted you to see the possibilities that we do.” Finn stood and walked over to stand beside Drace.

Her foot tapped on the floor and her jaw clenched. After a long moment, she asked, “What possibilities?”

“A relationship with you that lasts for longer than a few nights. We want you to be…our woman.” Finn knew she’d heard his hesitation. She’d be more than their woman. She’d be their wife when she became used to the idea.

He wanted to prove to her that no barrier would stand between them. His fingers itched to close over her shoulders and hold her still until she listened. She was their woman.

“Your ‘woman’, or do you mean more than that?” She challenged them with her stance and tone.

“We want you to be our wife,” Drace said bluntly.

Finn winced. He wouldn’t have stated it that baldly, not this soon.

“Your wife…” Kyna’s voice rose a notch. “Who does that? Who chooses a wife after a few meetings? We hadn’t even kissed when you planned to trap me here. We’d barely even spoken.”

“We do. We know there can be something special between us. We only wanted you to see us as more than the commanders of this base,” Drace explained.

Kyna took a deep breath. She looked thoroughly confused. Finn knew they’d just tossed a lot of information at her. He took hope from the fact that she wasn’t trying to deny what they had together.

“I need some time to think,” she said and walked away without another word.

Chapter Three

Kyna leaned her head back against the metal wall and stretched her legs out on the floor. She grimaced. Anger still simmered inside her, but she was finally able to think a little more clearly. She should have made them leave the room. They were responsible for all of the turmoil inside her. If anyone should be sitting on this cold, hard floor it should be them.

They’d taken her by surprise repeatedly during that discussion. She hadn’t even thought they’d seen her during the few times they’d met. They hadn’t given any indication that they saw her as anything more than a Laurati soldier. Despite what they believed, she had been watching them. At times, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off them—especially their legs and butts. There had been a few times when she’d been practically drooling.

She couldn’t deny their claim that they wanted her. It thrilled her even as it scared her. They wanted long-term and she wasn’t ready to think beyond the time they’d be locked here. Neither man seemed even a little concerned about the fact that she was Laurati or even cared who her father was.

Of course, they didn’t know what her father had done. Their acceptance had given her such a warm wanted feeling. For just a little while, she wanted to savor that feeling. Their reactions would probably change after they learned the truth. They certainly wouldn’t want her if they knew she was in any way related to Reegar the Slaughterer. Her father had become infamous for raiding ships and leaving them with barely any life support. They’d know who he was. She couldn’t even really blame them.

Standing, she paced the length of the kitchen. She’d worry about their reaction later. Arranging a meeting with her wasn’t such a bad thing. She had felt a little used and stupid when she thought they’d arranged the whole blackout, but knowing the truth changed that. They couldn’t have predicted that the power cell would have been stolen.

Kyna stretched. She had no idea what would happen after the power was fully restored and they could leave this section. She just knew that she wasn’t going to toss away this chance to be with them because they’d wanted a little time away from protocol and duty.

She walked out of the kitchen, determined to make them understand that what happened between them from this point on wasn’t an acceptance of any kind of future relationship. It was an acceptance of the desire between them and nothing more.

The carpet silenced her steps as she approached the men. At first, she thought they were leaning close to each other, maybe plotting ways to convince her to be with them. In a way she was flattered.

She stopped and stared as she realized they were kissing. The difference between understanding they most likely had a relationship and seeing them like this slammed into her along with a rush of arousal.

Finn’s mouth moved over Drace’s. Both men had shed their shirts sometime during her absence and Drace’s pants had been unfastened. As she watched, Finn’s hand closed around Drace’s erect cock, stroking. Drace groaned and his body shuddered. Just from the sound, she knew Drace enjoyed the other man’s touch.

Finn’s head lifted and his eyes immediately locked on her. She had no idea if she’d made some sound to draw his attention or if he’d somehow sensed her presence. She stood there frozen. All thoughts except sex and those two men had flown from her mind.

“Are you finished with your thinking yet?” Finn asked.

Kyna swallowed loudly, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of Finn’s fingers gliding over Drace’s cock. “I…I’ve finished thinking.”

“And what have you decided?” Drace questioned as he put a hand over Finn’s on his shaft.

“I’ll be with you until we’re freed. After that, I’m not making any promises or plans.” She raised her chin, expecting an argument.

Finn smiled, showing his white teeth. “We’re not averse to convincing you.”

Her jaw dropped open. They’d taken her statement as a challenge. She’d never intended it like that. She only wanted them to see that she wouldn’t be meekly following their orders, but since they were she’d use it to her advantage.

“I’m not easily persuaded. You won’t be able to talk me into it.” She put a hand on her hip but kept her tone low and serious.

“Then we’ll use sex to help you make the right decision,” Drace said with a soft chuckle. “Eventually you’ll see that being with us is the right choice.”

“Now come over here. How are we supposed to seduce you if you’re standing all the way over there?” Finn lounged on the cushions, braced on one arm.

“Just by sitting there. You both have to know how handsome you are. You know I find you both…attractive,” she said and knew that the last part was an understatement. Even fully clothed they oozed a potent sex appeal. In any stage of undress, they were just lucky she didn’t jump them. She stood still and watched them.

Finn patted the cushion at his side. “Come tell us about it.”

“Or show us,” Drace said invitingly.

“Why wasn’t he touching you, too?” Kyna asked Finn as she took a step forward.

Finn’s eyes locked with hers as he rose to his feet. “The next person touching my cock is going to be you. Preferably your wet pussy taking it deep.”

“You could have been waiting a long while. I could have easily decided that the good sex wouldn’t be worth the frustration of dealing with your attempts at persuasion.” She crossed her arms. Her eyes focused on the muscles shifting beneath his skin on his chest and abdomen. She licked her lips, already anticipating touching him.

“I might have, but you’ve decided not to torture any of us.” He stopped in front of her and his hands fastened on her hips, pulling her against him.

She smiled and relaxed against him. The heavy ridge of his cock pressed against her stomach. His arousal was very obvious. She wriggled teasingly. He drew in a hissing breath. His hands tightened. He quickly urged her to his side and led her to the bed of cushions. Kyna let the wicked smile curve her lips as a thrill of satisfaction filled her.

Kyna kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the bed. She settled near Drace, curling her feet to the side. Finn sat beside her, lifting her feet across his lap. He didn’t seem quite as commanding as Drace did in some ways, although Finn’s size certainly gave him the edge in the intimidation factor. At least it had.

“Give me a kiss.” Drace curved an arm around her shoulders, tugging gently.

She laughed softly, tilting her head up to meet his lowering lips. His mouth opened over hers, his tongue sliding against hers. She reveled in the kiss, enjoying his taste. A tug at her pants drew her attention away from the firm lips over hers. Finn tugged her pants down her legs. She wondered how she’d missed him unfastening them. He moved between her thighs, lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder. She tore her lips away from Drace’s. Hot breath puffed across her inner thigh.

“Finn…” She stiffened.

“Relax. You know you’ll love it.” His tongue stroked over the inside of her thigh.

A shiver swept over her body. Yes, she wanted it. Her body tingled, her heart pounding, but they couldn’t. There was no way they could all be together.

“There’s no way,” she said even as she widened her thighs.

Drace chuckled, dropping kisses on her cheek. “There is. We can’t be together as fully as I’d like, but we’ll all enjoy this.”

Finn’s tongue swirled over the slick lips of her pussy. Her hips rose, pushing into his stroking tongue. She locked her lips as fiery pleasure streaked through her body. She didn’t know how much more she could take. Desire coiled into a tight pulsing ball low in her belly.

Finn savored her delicious essence, a little salty, a little musky and sweet. If his body didn’t ache with need, he’d have been content to lick and suck for hours just to watch her come. He loved the way her body arched and wriggled beneath his mouth. Her hand combed through his short hair, molding to the shape of his head.

He looked up and caught her eyes. “Touch Drace too. Show me that you want us both.”

Her hand left his head. She trailed her fingers over Drace’s chest. Drace laughed and covered her hand, drawing it down to his cock.

“So you want to pet me?” Drace asked. He dropped nibbling kisses on her lips. “I have something you can pet.”

He watched her slowly lick her red lips. She wriggled and he saw her reach for Drace. Drace’s head tipped back and a rumble of pleasure ripped from his throat.

Finn suddenly felt a bit envious. He wanted her hand on him, her thumb circling the head of his shaft.

“Are you going to just stare or are you going to lick me?” she asked as her hand stroked from the base of Drace’s shaft to the rounded head.

A smile curved Finn’s lips. He liked a demanding woman. His eyes met Kyna’s.

“You want me to lick?” he asked.

“Yes!” Her breath hissed from between her teeth.

“Like this?” Finn’s tongue swirled in circles around her clit. She moaned, her thighs tightening on his shoulders. He flicked his tongue lower to her entrance. He lapped at the juices spilling from her, pushing his tongue into her clenching pussy. She bucked, her body tensing beneath his. He knew she was close to her peak.

He drew back, letting her thighs slip off his shoulders.

Drace moved to the center of the cushions. Kyna blinked at him, her thighs splayed wide, a look of utter need in her eyes.

“Come on, reni. Let’s go join Drace.” Finn dropped a kiss on her lips. The endearment seemed so natural.

He urged her in the right direction and then followed. Stroking his hand over her hip and thigh, he stopped beside her. Her eyes went from Drace to him, as if she was trying to work out how they were going to do this.

“We both want to feel your body move against us as we fuck you,” Drace said as he reached over and pulled her to him.

“We want you between us, but there’s no lube and your pussy is too tight to take us both.” Finn dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “So we’re going to come as close to what we all want as possible.”

Having wriggled out of his pants, Drace helped her to straddle his thighs, his cock pressed against her belly. “As wonderful as it would be to have you suck my cock, it’s not what I need.”

Now naked, Finn moved behind her. Raising her hips slightly, he fit the head of his cock to her pussy. Settling her once more, he leaned forward and nuzzled the silky hair away from her neck. Hot, slick juices coated the head of his shaft and he couldn’t wait any longer. He rocked into her. The feel of her tight muscles pulling him deeper into her wet heat was intense and sharp.

She moaned, her body writhing as he thrust into her. Her movements drew a groan from Drace. The other man grabbed her hips and rocked her against him.

“Think of me thrusting into your tight pussy with Finn behind you. His cock pushing against your tight little hole. It might clench, but he keeps pressing until your ass opens for him.” Drace’s deep voice rumbled as he pressed against her clit.

Finn felt a rush of slick cream over his cock. He tried to keep control even as he felt the first ripples of her orgasm. She sobbed, gasping his name, her hands clutching at Drace’s shoulders. Drace’s shout announced his climax as his body arched. Finn came a moment later. His hips surged forward and his seed sprayed deep inside her. Reluctantly, he pulled free and collapsed to the side, feeling utterly content.

“That will happen,” Finn promised as he drew his hand over her hip.

Chapter Four

Kyna’s eyes closed as her mind readily supplied images of that very scene. She licked her lips, regret pulsing through her. What Finn had promised probably wouldn’t ever happen. Pushing that thought and the knowledge that she’d have to tell them the full truth soon to the back of her mind, she focused only on the moment. She had only a short time with them and she didn’t want to miss even a moment.

Rising onto her elbows, she smiled down at Drace and then slanted a teasing glance toward Finn. “He looks exhausted. I’m not even a little tired. How about you?”

“I could play a bit more before I rest.” Drace brushed her hair back behind her ear.

“Good. Now lie there and conserve your energy,” she ordered as she rose onto her hands and knees. “I have plans for you, but I’m going to do some exploring before we get to that.”

He didn’t move and his hands fell to his sides. She smiled. Her mind churned with ideas of what to do first. She leaned down, dropping a kiss onto his chest. Her tongue traced the lines of the elaborate tattoo. She felt his muscles move and flex beneath her lips. In a teasing move, she nipped at one of his dark nipples and then soothed the sting with gentle licks.

Moving even lower, she dropped a kiss on his ribs and the rippled muscles of his stomach. She caught his eyes. Lowering her mouth to the slick spots of semen on his abdomen, she swirled her tongue over the area. His cum tasted good, a little salty.

Her fingers trailed over his thigh as she scraped her teeth over his hipbone. She drew her tongue down his hip, edging inward. Drace moaned and his hands fisted at his side. Seeing the effects she had on him sent a surge of excitement through her. Warm tingles spread over her skin.

“He likes to have his balls squeezed when his cock is stroked or sucked,” Finn said.

Kyna tensed and turned toward him. She’d been so focused on Drace that she’d almost forgotten about him. He was lying on his side, his eyes locked on her. She smiled at him and circled her fingers around Drace’s cock, her thumb stroking over the smooth, silky skin.

Drace barely had time to see the anticipation and wicked intent in her eyes and smile before her fingers closed around his cock. The warmth of her palm seemed to sear his sensitive skin.

Her lips closed over the head, her tongue swirling and flicking as her hand stroked the length of his shaft. He groaned, his muscles tightening. He wanted to lace his fingers into her hair and drive deep into her hot, wet mouth. “You’re going to make me come,” he warned.

“That’s the plan.” She looked up at him, licking at the bead of pre-cum on the tip of his erection as if it was the sweetest nectar. “Don’t you like what I’m doing?”

Her hand slipped down and cupped his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hips lifted at the same moment as her head bobbed lower. He drew in a hissing breath, fighting for control. Not yet. He wanted to savor the feel of her mouth.

“I love what you’re doing. Suck on me,” he urged. His hands brushed over her soft, deep black hair, cupping the back of her neck.

She drew his cock deep into her mouth and his eyes nearly crossed. A soft hum from her sent pleasing vibrations down his length. Her tongue flicked along the shaft, teasing the head, enhancing his pleasure. His hips arched, a groan of pleasure tearing from his throat. Her fingernails teased his balls. Fire shot straight up his spine.

Her lips and fingers pushed him closer to the brink of an intense climax. Her reddened lips looked so exciting wrapped around his shaft. He lifted into each descending stroke of her mouth.

He came, his muscles tightening as he shouted her name. She took him deep as his seed sprayed into her throat. A wall of pleasure rolled through his body. Her tongue swirled over the head of his cock as she lifted her head.

“Woman, your mouth could drive a man happily insane,” Drace declared. He brushed the hair away from her face and enjoyed the smug look on her face.

She laughed softly, her fingers trailing up his cock. “At least you’ll enjoy it.”

“Tell me how much you like it,” Finn ordered.

Kyna tightened her fingers on their hands. Their hands. Each man pressed one of her hands against the cushions. It made her so hot, so wet. Drace’s teeth tugged at her nipple while Finn’s free hand traced her labia. She loved everything.

“More, give me more.” She wriggled her body, arching into their touch.

Finn’s fingers parted the slick lips and stroked the hard bead of her clit. Excitement swelled within her. The tightening sensation pushed her toward climax. Her heels dug into the soft cushion, pressing her hips into those fingers.

“Do you like it or should we let you sleep?” Drace asked. He played with her breasts, his fingers plumping one as he sucked at the other.

She drew in a hissing breath. “Don’t stop. You can’t stop.”

Drace chuckled. The sound vibrated against her breast, sending shivers over her body. Her groan of pleasure caught in her throat as he used his teeth to torment the stiff peak. She trembled, shaking with need.

“What do you want?” Finn nipped her thigh.

His fingers circled her entrance, pressing lightly. With her heart pounding and her breath coming in desperate gasps, she couldn’t have denied what she wanted. She spread her thighs, asking for what she needed without words.

He didn’t move.

“Fuck me. I need your cock.” She tried to wriggle against his fingertips, desperate for satisfaction.

Finn rose and moved between her thighs, but he kept hold of her hand. He lifted her legs onto his shoulders. His hips rocked forward, slowly pushing into her. His eyes locked with hers.

“This is how it’s meant to be. All three of us together.” His voice broke as her muscles clenched around his shaft.

Kyna couldn’t think. Drace’s mouth sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. The pulling sensation seemed to echo each of Finn’s driving thrusts. Her body bucked. Wild sensation slammed through her, going on and on.

Finn’s hips pistoned against hers. He stiffened, his hips grinding against hers as jets of cum pulsed into her pussy. He collapsed to the side, drawing her closer to him. Drace’s body pressed against her side and his arm curled around her waist.

* * * * *

This is how it’s meant to be. All three of us together.

Finn’s words had seemed to echo in her dreams all night long. Even now, they haunted her. She crossed her arms and winced before slowly lowering them to her side. Her uniform seemed rough, coarse against her sensitive breasts today.

They could never be together like that. Not permanently. She’d told them, but they didn’t seem to believe her. Even now with their time alone here coming to a close, they seemed confident, relaxed. And smugly satisfied. They were sitting in chairs while she paced the floor. Her exhausted thigh muscles mildly protested the exertion, but she couldn’t stay still.

Somehow she had to make them understand. She’d love to simply ignore reality and take what she could get while she could. Even at this point, she knew that losing them, their trust later would be so much worse than it would be now.

“This can’t be more than a few moments out of reality.” She locked her eyes with Drace’s. This wasn’t something they could change. They had to realize that.

“This is still about your father, isn’t it? We’re not going to hold something your father did against you.” Finn leaned forward, his hands clasped together loosely.

“Yes, this is about my father. You don’t know who he is, what he did. When you know, it will matter,” Kyna said with certainty.

Drace rose from his chair and moved to stand near her. “What matters is who you are.”

She’d known they wouldn’t stay in those chairs when she started arguing with them. Sighing, she shook her head. That was a sweet thing for him to say, but she didn’t think it would stay that way for long.

She wouldn’t blame them. They both had too much to lose and involvement with her could cause them trouble. She’d originally chosen the Laurati military because it was the only place where she had any hope that ability and integrity would help her rise above her father’s reputation.

“Tell us who your father is and why you think it will change what we want,” Finn ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. His body practically radiated suppressed energy. He looked as if he’d jump out of the chair at any moment.

She knew just from that glare that he didn’t intend to let anything change his mind. He might be stubborn, but he’d see that she was right. She took a deep breath. Suddenly, she didn’t want to do the right thing. She wanted to be greedy and grab for the comfort, pleasure and rosy future she’d found.

Get it over with, she thought. This wasn’t going to get easier.

“My father’s name is Revan Reegar,” she said baldly. “Yes, the pirate.”

Her eyes locked on them, watching their reactions. Their mouths dropped open and they stared silently at her.

“You obviously weren’t raised as his. You aren’t one of the children he claimed. So why should it matter to us?” Drace asked.

Drace was right. The man hadn’t even known of her conception, but he had been on the Laurati records as her father. Somehow it always came out and it always changed how others treated her. She didn’t know if Drace was being deliberately flippant, but he was making her furious.

“I’m the daughter of a pirate. It always matters. If something goes missing, they check where I was first. You might not think it matters now but you’ll feel differently. How do you think your superiors would feel about you being involved with Reegar’s daughter?” She clenched her teeth. They weren’t thinking about how others would see their relationship.

“Considering that one of my superiors has a parent with a similar occupation, it’s not going to matter.” Drace smiled and propped a hand on his hip. “We’re not the Laurati. The Calazi think differently. Your actions are all that matter to us.”

“Our society has had to be more fluid,” Finn explained. “Many of our men became pirates. They were often heroes to our people, bringing desperately needed supplies or technology.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s thanks to them that we flourish as we do now. You’re not going to find the same type of attitude among us as you’ve known from the Laurati.”

Kyna shook her head furiously. He looked like he was waiting for her to throw another challenge his way. She wouldn’t believe it was that simple. They would change their minds.

“I bet your superior’s father isn’t one of the most hated people in the known galaxies. Did he ever loot two passenger carriers and then destroy them and kill every person on that ship because one of the crew dared to strike him?” Her voice sounded higher than normal and her throat felt tight. “Your superiors won’t be able to see past that.”

“It won’t make any difference.” Finn shook his head. “It’s not that we don’t hate what your father does. Any person would be hard-pressed to find anything redeeming about such actions. Our point is that you are not him, and you’re nothing like him.”

She couldn’t stop remembering all of those who’d turned away from her when they’d learned of her father.

“We know you have good reason to believe as you do and you need time.” Finn’s smile looked strained.

Drace stepped forward and his hands cupped her shoulders. “We won’t change our mind. I know it’s not going to be easy for you to get used to this. You’re going to have to trust us to know what we feel, that we won’t change our minds.”

“You will. I won’t watch you lose trust in me and start checking everything I say.” She put her hands on his chest, pushing at him.

Finn walked over to them and stepped close, his chest brushing against her arm. “We won’t, but that’s something you’re going to have to realize on your own. We’ve made our choice and we’ve chosen you. You’ll have to make your choice, but we’re not going to give up on you.”

Tears burned the back of her eyes and she took a step back. Her choice. It was impossible. How could she take the risk? She knew what happened and how people acted. This time wouldn’t be any different.

She took another step back, saluted, turned and went to the kitchen to wait for those doors to be opened. Her last glimpse of the two men seared into her brain. Drace’s expression had hardened, and his body was very tense. Finn watched her with an almost understanding smile. He had his hand clamped on to Drace’s arm as if holding him back.

Chapter Five

Kyna walked into the room she shared with three other women. A package had been placed on her bed. She knew it was a message from Drace and Finn. Those two men didn’t play games—or give up.

The entire base knew about her father. When she’d discovered they’d informed the other Calazi of it, she’d wanted to hunt them down and hurt them. She’d expected a reaction. But the Calazi officers hadn’t even remarked on it. At first, she couldn’t believe it, but all that seemed to matter to them was the quality of her work.

The Calazi officers’ acceptance had seemed to ease her tension somewhat. They truly didn’t seem to care. More importantly, neither did she anymore. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she’d found inner peace. She still had periods of doubt, but she knew she could trust them. Each day, her doubts about the relationship with Finn and Drace faded a little more.

In the weeks since she’d left them in that dining hall, she hadn’t been able to get either of them out of her mind. The feel of their bodies haunted her. She wanted to go to them, but fear of the pain of losing them held her back. If they walked away from her, it would tear a hole in her soul.

She hadn’t opened any of the other messages and packages they’d sent her. At the time, she’d thought it would only reinforce the discomfort and loneliness she already felt. It hadn’t worked. Staying away from them had seemed to create a wound that wouldn’t heal. She’d caused the pain she was trying so hard to avoid and it wasn’t getting easier with time.

Something had to give and she’d made her decision. Her choices had been limited. She either had to find a way to deal with her fear or she had to transfer. It was obvious they had no problems with her father being a pirate. Only her objections kept them apart.

The thought of someday losing them scared her, but she couldn’t even think about leaving them permanently. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and walked to the small desk. She lifted up the screen, slid back the cover for the touch keyboard and sent a message.

* * * * *

Drace gripped the arms of the chair in the private conference room he’d arranged. He hoped the fact that she’d finally contacted them was good news. Letting her walk away the first time hadn’t been easy, and he didn’t know if he could do it again. She belonged with them. Why couldn’t she see it?

The light brown walls and relatively small space had been a better option than the large conference room. He’d wanted the intimate feel of this room with its small rounded table and comfortable chairs. Too bad the cameras precluded any real intimacy.

The door opened and Finn rushed into the room. Drace tried to relax his tight muscles.

“Good, I’m not late,” Finn said, dropping into one of the cushioned chairs. “And stop scowling. You’re going to scare her when she gets here.”

“This might not be what we want to hear.” Drace looked at the door. She was late.

“Then we’ll do what we have to do, but she’s worth waiting for.” Finn sat back in the chair, but Drace could see the anticipation and tension in his body.

A short tone sounded, announcing that someone was requesting entrance. Drace pushed a button on the table and the door slid open. Kyna stood in the doorway, clutching the box they’d sent her. His eyes swept from head to foot. She’d lost weight and didn’t look as if she’d been sleeping.

He wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms, but held back. First, they’d find out why she’d requested a meeting with them. For a moment she just stared at them, but finally stepped into the room.

“You wanted to talk to us,” Finn said.

She swallowed and licked her lips. “I’ve let my fear rule me.”

“We understand that you haven’t had many people take you on trust.” Finn leaned forward and braced his arms on the table.

“I’m not very trusting either. I was afraid to believe that your feelings would last.” She grimaced and put the box on the table. “I was afraid of losing you, but being without you hurts too.”

“So what are you going to do about your trust issue?” Drace asked. He stayed in his chair with effort. If he touched her, he knew they wouldn’t be talking.

“I’m still afraid, but I realized that what I felt wasn’t going away. I either had to request a transfer and leave or be with you.” Her hands flexed and she fidgeted nervously.

“And what are you going to do?” Finn’s shoulders shifted.

Drace knew just how Finn felt. If she thought she was just going to walk away from them, she needed to think again.

“I can’t leave you.” She bit her lip. “This would be easier if someone would hold me.”

Finn lunged out of his seat and got to her first but Drace was only a step behind him. Their arms wrapped around her and held her between them. Drace felt her lean into them. Her body relaxed as she put an arm around each of them and held on tight.

Finally! The thought floated through him like a cooling wind. She’d finally accepted the truth. She’d chosen them.

“I can’t promise all the fear is gone completely. I can only try to trust in you, believe in you. I might doubt you at some point.” She looked at him, biting her lower lip.

Finn cupped her chin. “We’ll deal with that if it happens—together.”

Drace leaned in so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t ever run away again. You belong with us.”

“I hope so, but…part of me is really afraid it won’t last,” she admitted.

“We’ll last. Now let’s go to somewhere really private. I’m not going to let the men in security have a free show when our quarters aren’t too far away.” Drace brushed a kiss across her lips.

Her tongue slipped out from between her lips, tracing his lips in deliberate provocation. He heard a groan and looked over to see Finn’s head tip back. He looked down and saw Kyna cupping Finn’s bulging cock through the fabric of his dark green pants.

“Oh yes,” she said with a wicked smile. “There’s this position someone promised me we’d be in soon. It’s sparked some very interesting dreams. It’s been too long,” she added. “I want to see if I imagined correctly how good you are.”

“We’re better than you remember. You’ll be lucky to make it to your next shift on duty.” Finn cupped her chin, turning her head to meet his kiss as he thrust his hips, grinding his erection into her stroking hand.

“Are you sure? My memories of that time are pretty special.” Her voice had gone soft and husky.

“You’ll have to tell me just how it compares.” Drace cupped her ass, squeezing lightly. “We’ll give you a lifetime of memories.”

Drace and Finn kept her between them as they led her out of the conference room and to their bed. They’d make sure she never regretted it.

Sunrise

Natasha Moore

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Frisbee: Wham-O, Inc.

Chapter One

I stroll down the well-worn path from my cottage to the lake, trying not to break into a run. My pulse races for no real reason except for the hope that rises within me. The tall grasses brush against my bare legs, reminding me of his fingers trailing along my skin. The setting sun throws streaks of pink and yellow across the horizon and the beauty of it stops me in my tracks. I left my easel in the garden. Maybe I should have carried it with me tonight. Or at least my camera to capture the colors.

But my heart has been stuttering in my chest all day long and I don’t want to bring anything but myself to the beach tonight. Perhaps it is only wishful thinking. Perhaps he is never coming back. It’s been weeks since he last met me on the beach. Weeks since his expert hands played my body like his private instrument.

I tell myself I’m here for the sunset, but my body recognizes the lie. I start walking again and my breasts feel heavy as they move with each step I take. I tied on his favorite bikini top tonight, the skinny blue one. I didn’t bother with the bottoms, simply wrapping a short pareo bursting with tropical flowers around my hips. My pussy throbs with anticipation. The flesh swells and moistens as I remember the joy his mouth and hands can bring.

The breeze picks up, tearing at my hair and pulling strands of it free from the clip that holds it away from my face. The beach is deserted, as it usually is this late in the day. No, there are a few teenagers down at the other end, laughing and drinking beer. They won’t pay attention to a woman nearly twice their age, walking by herself. If they notice me at all, they’ll probably feel sorry for me, walking the beach alone.

I take my sandals off when I reach the sand. The grains sift between my toes and I wiggle them in delight. The sand is still warm, like the breeze blowing across my heated skin, drying up the beads of sweat that roll down my chest. I make my way slowly down to the water, the sandal straps dangling from my fingers.

I won’t look for him. If he appears out of the gathering darkness, he won’t catch me searching the shadows for his wide shoulders and long-legged stride. I keep my gaze fixed over the lake, the water reflecting the streaks of color. The sun is now reaching the horizon and, as always, I’m amazed at the speed with which it sinks into the water. Does the earth really revolve that quickly?

Why does time sometimes fly like that? The hours we spend in each other’s arms are over in an instant. Yet the last six weeks have crawled by. How slow will the rest of my life move if he doesn’t come back this time?

I catch his scent first, that sharp, musky scent that fills my nostrils, and I breathe him in with relief. I still focus my gaze on that spot of water where the sun disappeared and hold my breath, keeping that part of him with me for as long as I can. When he touches my shoulders from behind, my breath leaves me on a sigh.

“You’re here,” I murmur, leaning back into his hard body. The pink and yellow have left the horizon. The water and sky are blending together.

He steps forward, pressing into my back. I can feel his arousal hard in the cleft of my ass. His long fingers knead my shoulders where he knows the tension builds. “I’ve missed you.” His deep voice is low and rumbles through my body like the buzz of arousal.

I turn into his arms because I can’t wait any longer to see him again. I cup his face in my hands and brush my lips across his. “How was the tour?”

He sighs. “Exhausting. I’m glad to be back.”

Are those shadows under his eyes? It’s hard to tell in the growing darkness. Soon I won’t be able to see him at all. I take his hand and lead him over to a bench at the corner of the park, where the edge of a streetlight beam barely reaches. We’ll head for our private darkness soon enough, where my mouth and skin and sex will be aroused and satisfied. My eyes haven’t had enough of him yet. Not nearly enough.

He raises his eyebrows in that sardonic expression that almost makes me come right then and there. “Into the light, Caroline? That’s not like you.”

He’s right, of course. Part of the appeal of our trysts has always been sneaking away into the shadows, as we did the first night we met. He appeared out of nowhere that night as I walked the beach. Within moments we were crazy with lust, touching and tasting each other. We shed our clothes and our inhibitions behind the long boathouse. No one ever goes down there after dark, but there’s always the chance that someone else, like us, will be looking for a little privacy.

Perhaps that’s part of the appeal too.

He sits on the bench and pulls me between his legs. The light is at my back. I can see him, but I know I’m in the shadows. The way I like it. It seems much longer than six weeks that he’s been away.

“You cut your hair.” I comb my fingers through his short, dark strands.

He shrugs and pulls the clip from my hair. The heavy weight settles over my shoulders and down my back. The breeze picks up the golden strands and blows them across my face. He gathers my hair in his hands and pulls my head to him. His kiss is hard, bruising, punishing even. I know why and wish I could give him what he wants.

At first his lips are dry, but as we kiss they quickly moisten and we slip and slide against each other. Our whole mouths are soon involved. Tongues. Teeth. Taste. No one else kisses me the way he does. As if he would devour me if he could. As if my taste is the only thing that can sustain him through the days to come.

Or is that the way I kiss him?

I lick his lips with my tongue, drinking him in. I’ve been thirsting for weeks.

“God, how I’ve missed you,” he says. His cultured British accent slides over me. He clutches my shoulders. “Come home with me tonight.”

I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me go. He slides one hand through my hair and holds on to the back of my head. His firm grip forces me to look him in the face as I fight against the panic scrambling in my stomach. A slight smile lifts his lips as he lowers his other hand to the back of my bare thigh. A delightful curl of arousal replaces the panic. I shift between his legs, moving closer to him, my hands resting on his legs. The cooling grass tickles my bare feet.

His eyes seem to darken as he slides his hand up beneath my pareo to cup the cheek of my bare ass. The breeze coming off the lake follows his hand along my skin, blowing against the wet flesh between my legs. I vaguely wonder if anyone, like those teenagers over there, can see my bare curves, but I don’t care enough to stop him or move out of the light or do anything but press into his hand.

His fingers play with my ass for a moment, teasing me with their nearness to that sensitive spot between my legs. I rock my hips, trying to get him closer, although he doesn’t need a reminder that I want those fingers deep inside me. He knows. But he’s not happy with me now.

Still pinning me with his gaze, he begins to stroke my ass with his long, calloused fingers and I melt as I always do, relaxing into the erotic caress. When the slap comes, I jump. I gasp and stare at him, but his expression hasn’t changed. We’ve tried nearly every sexual position imaginable, but he’s never spanked me before. The sharp sound seems loud in the quiet surrounding us. He gives me couple more gentle strokes before the next slap. Harder this time.

I shouldn’t like it, but illicit excitement dances along my skin. Does he mean it as a punishment, a harsh reminder that he wants to take our relationship to a new level and I won’t agree? Punishment or not, the quick slaps are incredibly arousing. He spanks me again. And again.

I can’t stop myself from bending over, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, pressing my ass harder into his hand. Moisture runs down my leg and my heart races as he spanks me again and again. His other hand is still buried in my hair, holding my head against his shoulder.

We’re both panting. My ass is on fire. My whole body burns for him. My pussy’s throbbing and I’m so close I can almost feel the first waves of an orgasm.

But as if he can tell I’m that close, the slaps begin to lessen. His hand strokes me again, lightly, gently. My skin prickles with the burn and I almost beg him to continue. But I won’t beg.

He drops a kiss on my head and I slowly straighten and look him in the face. His lust is clear in the darkness of his eyes, the tense set of his jaw. His mouth is in a thin line, but then I know I’m not smiling either. We’re both still breathing heavily. His fingers begin to wander, sliding between the cheeks of my ass and straight to my center.

I’m so wet, his fingers slide through my slick folds, teasing the sensitive flesh, rubbing them between his finger and thumb. A whimper starts in the back of my throat and slips from my lips. He smiles now and strokes my pussy some more but manages to stay away from my aching clit. Does he know that if he touched it with the softest brush of his finger I’d go off?

“Alan…” He dips two fingers into my hot center and I gasp, with no breath left to utter anything but his name again.

It was months before we knew each other’s names. They didn’t matter. Not to me. Nothing mattered but skin and mouths and ragged breathing and coming apart in each other’s arms. Nothing mattered but desire desperate enough to chase away the loneliness for a little while.

But he wanted more. And while I would have been happy to enjoy mindless, anonymous sex forever, it isn’t enough for him. And now he wants to take me home.

I point up to the sky with a shaky finger, to that inky blackness sparkling with pinpoints of light. “Look at the stars,” I say lightly and try to smile. “How can you want to go inside?”

“I want to lay you on a soft mattress with a feather pillow for your head. I wouldn’t lay my cello in the dirt, why would I want to take you on the sod?” He cups my face and softly brushes his lips across my cheek. “No more, Caroline. I treasure you too much.”

I pull away from him and this time he lets me go. “I don’t want you to treasure me. I want you to fuck me!”

I immediately regret my outburst. His face shuts down, that handsome, beautiful face I’ve painted from memory countless times. And then painted over just as many.

Hot tears spring to my eyes, but I blink them away before they can fall. Surely this will be the time he’ll leave and never come back.

But after a moment, he nods and rises from the bench, slowly moving away, out of the light, putting some space between us. “Why can’t you admit you need me?”

Need him? I don’t need him. And I can prove it. I can turn and walk away from him and never look back. My happiness will never again depend on a man.

But I don’t turn and I don’t run away. Instead, I reach for his hand and lace our fingers together. What is an hour or so spent in a soft bed instead of the hard ground? It will be another first for us.

Besides, I’m curious what the vacation home of a concert musician looks like. Does he bring the same passion to his home that he brings to music? That he brings to me?

“Okay,” I say softly, hesitantly. “I’ll go to your house with you.” Am I doing the right thing? Even as I am wondering this, his dark eyes light up and his laugh lines crinkle and I can’t help but smile back.

The moon is a thin crescent tonight, not much more than a hook to hang a dream. But I’m past the age of dreaming.

“Come,” he says and tugs on my hand.

“My sandals!” I’d dropped them somewhere. Was it before or after he arrived? I can’t remember. We search in the darkness for a few minutes, laughing as we reach for shadows on the grass and sand, only to find stones or a forgotten Frisbee.

“Never mind,” he says finally and scoops me up into his arms. My surprised laugh comes out on a gasp.

“But I love those sandals!” I cry out in jest. I’m too overwhelmed by his gesture to really care.

“We’ll come back tomorrow and find them in the daylight.”

We’ve never been together in the daylight. Tomorrow won’t be any different. But I don’t tell him that, I simply wrap my arms around his neck and allow myself to enjoy the foolishly romantic moment. The twinkling stars above seem to laugh at me, but for the span of a heartbeat, I don’t care.

Chapter Two

He carries me to his nearby car. A large dark sedan. I’ve never paid attention to makes and models, but I recognize luxury. I sink into the soft leather seat as he sets me down, then he sneaks a kiss, hot and hungry, before he buckles me in and closes the door. I shiver, suddenly feeling more nervous than I’d ever been with him. Those butterflies I thought I’d left behind as a teenager flutter in my stomach.

He climbs in beside me and starts the car. The vibration of the engine buzzes through my body, starting with my bare feet on the carpeted floor and shooting up to my bare ass on the warm leather seat. Rich classical music floods the car. Of course he would have an incredible sound system.

“I love this piece.” I try to keep my voice light and my mind off the fact that we are actually going to his place. That I’ll be getting a glimpse of him that I’ve never wanted to see. That the more I know about him, the harder it will be to say goodbye.

He stops with his hand on the gearshift. I feel him staring at me although his face is merely a play of shadows. “I thought you didn’t listen to classical music.”

“I bought the CD, all right?” The moment he left on tour. “This piece is my favorite.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Why did I buy the CD? Or why is this my favorite?”

“Both, I guess.”

“I bought the CD because I wanted to hear you play,” I admit. And listening to his music soothed my lonely days as I painted sunsets and gardens and Alan. “I love the passion in this piece. It lights a fire under my skin.” I pause and swallow to moisten my suddenly dry mouth. “Like you do.”

He combs his fingers through my hair and pulls my head to him. When his lips crush mine, they feed the fire burning within me. His mouth is hot and insistent, demanding from me the same passion.

Passion has never been my problem.

He drags his tongue along my lips. I open my mouth to his unspoken request and he plunges inside, probing and stroking and licking. A moan escapes from deep in my throat and I feel, more than hear, his answering groan.

He still holds the back of my head with one hand, a warm weight holding me in place as he continues to devour my mouth with his wet tongue. He finds one of my breasts with his other hand, squeezing, kneading. I love the way the long fingers grasp my eager flesh. My nipple pricks into his palm through the thin fabric and he rubs it around and around. Oh God, sparks shoot through my body like a log thrown on a fire. I can’t help but arch my back and press my breast harder into his hand, which isn’t an easy thing to do while I’m leaning across the center console and sucking on his tongue.

I grasp his strong shoulders to steady myself. Pressure is building between my legs, hot and pulsing. Rocking my hips does nothing to relieve the hot throbbing.

The fire is now a conflagration. I tear my mouth away from his to gasp for air. My pulse is roaring, feeding the fire. Or is the fire feeding it? I want to feel his skin, so I pull the linen shirt from his khaki shorts. I slip my hand underneath. His skin is hot and sweat-slicked. He must be on fire as well. With this much heat, the car could explode at any minute.

Then he drops his hand from my breast and falls back into his seat. “No,” he gasps. “I’m not taking you in the car like a horny teenager.”

I fall back into my own seat, gasping for breath, secretly thrilled I make him feel like a teenager too.

“Only a few minutes,” he says and pulls into the street.

I know he doesn’t live far. He told me he’d taken a drive up the lake road when he first bought his vacation house, just to take a look around. He said when he saw me walking along the beach at sunset he never drove any further.

What did we recognize in each other that first night? Loneliness? Need? I remember a full moon shining on the water that night when he walked up to me. He smelled so good. He stood beside me on the sand and we watched the ripples in the water make the moonlight wave. I don’t think we even spoke that first night.

It was almost like a dream. Our breathing grew heavier as we stood there, side by side. My body began to burn, as it still does now when I’m with him. Did I make the first move that night, one tiny step to the side, so that our shoulders touched? So that our bodies touched for the first time. I like to think we did it simultaneously. Like when our sweaty hands clasped and we walked together toward the shadows behind the boathouse to tear each other’s clothes off and come together for the first time.

I think about that night as we silently drive down the dark street, past small cottages and huge summer homes and even larger condominiums. The lake community has exploded since I followed a dream here out of college fifteen years ago.

But I don’t want my memories to go back that far, so I reach over and cup his crotch with my hand. His sharp intake of breath matches the jerk of his cock as it tries to lunge for my hand. I take pity on the pressure in his pants and ease down his zipper.

“Caroline?” His voice is no more than a strangled groan.

I don’t answer him. I silently release his straining cock from the silky boxers. It springs eagerly into my waiting hand. I love his cock, love the weight of it in my hand. The skin is hot and smooth beneath my fingers. I love the salty taste and I lean over to run my tongue up the length of it.

“God, Caroline!” He drops one hand onto my head and grips my hair. But he doesn’t pull me away.

“Don’t crash the car.” I quickly unbuckle my seat belt and get up on my knees in the seat so I can lean across the console. My head barely fits between his body and the steering wheel and he moves his seat back a little so I have more room. I lick him first, with long strokes that make him slick and wet, and I wish I could see more than shadows from the glow of the dashboard.

I finally take him into my mouth, sinking down onto his hard length. I hold on to the base of his cock with one hand and the console with the other. Before long, I have a good rhythm going, taking him deep in my throat as we glide through the darkness. The music surrounding us swells and surges, urging me on. His fingers tighten in my hair and his hand rides my head, like I’m riding his cock. One minute hard and fast, as the music speeds up and crescendos. The next minute oh-so slow and teasing. I don’t want this night to end in the front seat, either.

The car begins to slow and then he lets go of my head and gasps, “We’re here.”

I let go of him with a moist pop, and as he turns into a driveway, I tuck him back in and raise the zipper. Then I sit back in my seat and stare out the windshield to the mansion rising up before me. No, it isn’t actually a mansion, but compared to the little cottage a block from the lake where I live year-round, this huge lakefront home might as well be.

So some musicians, a concert musician with a solo album at least, make a lot more money than a painter who’s had a few gallery showings, but is never going to take the world by storm. Although I love my little cottage, a homey place that is mine and no one else’s, I can’t help but feel a burst of envy gazing up at the broad expanse of windows. I don’t like the feeling one bit.

He opens the car door for me and I realize I never even noticed when he left the driver’s seat, I was so spellbound by the house. I’m still staring at the stone and glass contemporary when he says my name. There’s a bit of command in his voice and I turn my attention away from the house and look at him. He holds out his hand to help me from the car, but I can’t move.

“This was a bad idea. Take me back.”

“What’s wrong?” He crouches down beside the car to look me in the face and I don’t want to see his concerned expression.

I point to the house. “This. Everything. It was supposed to be anonymous.”

“What was?” He takes my hand and strokes it with his long, talented fingers. My body betrays me by coming alive again, my skin so sensitive the brush of the evening air makes my nerve endings prickle. I’m sure he intends his soft caresses to calm me, but they simply stoke the flames even higher. And fire up my frustration.

“Us. Sex. I don’t want to know that this is your house. I don’t want to know anything about you except you fuck like…like…” I’m breathing as hard as when he kissed me and I can’t find the right words to say.

“Like what, Caroline?”

“Like a dream. Like a fucking dream. But you won’t let it stay a dream, will you? You have to tell me stories and ask me questions and carry me to your car and drive me to your house.”

“You’re not making any sense.” He holds out his hand to me. “Come in with me and I’ll make some tea.”

He’s too damn calm while I’m shaking inside. “I don’t want any fucking tea. I want to screw you and then I want to go home.”

I must have reached out, because suddenly he’s helping me from the car, and as soon as we rise to our feet, he gathers me into his arms. I know I don’t make any sense to him, and when it comes right down to it, I don’t want to. Because I don’t want him to know any more about me. Why I can’t trust him. Why I can’t love him.

He’s murmuring soothing sounds into my ear but I can’t relax. I’m too full of the fear of the changes I can’t seem to prevent. I already know more than I want to about him. Too much to walk away without it affecting my life. Without it leaving another huge hole in my heart.

He slips his arm around my waist and leads me into the house. The brick walkway is smooth and cool against my bare feet. He opens a warm oak door and turns on the chandelier hanging in the open foyer. It’s designed to draw the eye through the living space to the wide expanse of windows and the lake beyond, but my attention is focused on Alan. It’s the first time I’ve seen him illuminated by more than the moon or a shadowy streetlight.

His chestnut hair glistens beneath the light. I notice some silver at his temples and I like the way it looks on him. His eyes aren’t as dark as I’d thought, more a deep hazel than a chocolate brown, but those laugh lines are every bit as appealing as the first time I traced them with my fingertips. I reach out now to do it again and the creases move as he smiles.

“You’re lovely.” He brushes his thumb along my cheek and across my lips. I realize he’s really seeing me for the first time as well. I’m certainly not lovely, but there’s a part of me that is pleased he said it. I lean my face into his hand, gazing up at him. “Your eyes are so blue,” he whispers.

So we’re both attracted to eyes. What does that tell me? Does it have to tell me anything? I’m so turned around I don’t know what I want. All I know is what I feel. His strong hand against my cheek, his thumb stroking my jaw. The gray granite tile cooling my feet. My nipples prickling with need. My skin tingling with anticipation.

I lean forward and brush my lips lightly across his. He cups the back of my neck, pulls me to him and sucks greedily on my lower lip. I press up against him and feel his erection hard and hot against my hip. My pulse quickens and my sex swells in response.

Perhaps I can still get out of here with my heart and soul intact. And my body satisfied.

He tastes like dark sin, his hot mouth the only thing in my world at this moment. His breath heats me as he slides his lips across my jaw and down my neck, leaving a trail of wet heat along my skin. He nips my skin with his teeth, the sensation just short of pain. My head falls back to give him better access. I love it when his passion explodes, when he loses a bit of that tight British control and I know I’m the cause of it.

My skin is on fire, my body buzzing with need. I want to tear his clothes off and drag him to the floor. I want him to fuck me hard. Fuck me fast. Then get me the hell out of here.

I fumble with the shirt buttons, gasping for breath like a drowning woman. I shove it off his shoulders and it drops to the floor. The dark sprinkling of hair tickles my palms as I spread my hands over his chest. For the first time I can really appreciate his body and wonder briefly how a cello player stays in such great condition. I don’t need to know.

I slowly slide open-mouthed down his body, kissing and licking his skin as I go. I rub my face over the soft hair on his chest and then tug a little on his tight nipples with my teeth. My fingers trace the ripples of his firm abs and he sucks in his breath when I reach the button on his shorts and flick it open. I smile and blow heated air on his skin.

Dropping to my knees before him, I unbuckle the straps of his brown leather sandals. Before he’s done kicking them away, I’ve unzipped his shorts. The rasp of the zipper is almost as loud as our ragged breathing. I shove his shorts and those silky boxers down his legs and he steps out of them.

His erection waves proudly before my face and I lick my lips in anticipation. But before I can take him into my mouth and get down to business, Alan takes me by the shoulders and lifts me to my feet.

“The bedroom,” he says shakily. “I want you in my bed.”

Yeah. Yeah. He said that before. I don’t want to get into his bed because I’m afraid I’ll never want to get out. I couldn’t take it again. The overwhelming need. The fucking happiness. The goddamn contentment.

And then the hole ripped out of my heart when he leaves.

But I find myself following him up a long, winding staircase. With each step, I tell myself to turn around and run back down the stairs. I almost do. I hesitate as the staircase turns toward the second floor. But then he takes my hand and laces his fingers with mine and I can’t find the strength to pull away.

I follow him into his bedroom. It’s amazing. It must take up half of the second floor. The windows stretch out forever, giving a nearly unbroken view of the water. He turns around to look at me as I stare out the windows. He gathers me into his arms and surrounds me with his warmth. I rest my head on his shoulder and, for a split second, know what contentment with Alan would feel like.

And then I pull away. Too much temptation there.

I glance away from his disappointed expression and wander around the room. A king-sized bed sits against the wall to my left. I’m glad for my little double bed. If that feels lonely, what must lying alone in a king-sized bed like this feel like?

I don’t need to know.

I walk around the bed, sweeping my hand along the silky duvet cover, sage green with golden embroidery. The thick carpet is soft as grass beneath my feet. I cross the room to the windows and stare out over the water. The lights from the houses at the other end of the bay send wavy reflections across the water.

He turns on a light behind me and I see myself in the glass, a wide-eyed woman with wild blonde hair, lips slightly parted. I watch him slowly walk up behind me and my skin sings in anticipation. He lifts up my hair and places a dry kiss on my neck. I keep staring straight ahead, watching us in the glass as if looking in a mirror, my breaths coming a little faster, a little shallower. He presses up against me, his hard cock resting again between the cheeks of my ass.

He catches my eye in the glass as he unhooks my bikini top and I feel the relief as my breasts are released. They feel as if they are swelling beneath his gaze, heavier than usual and yearning for his touch. The straps slide down my arms and the top falls silently to the floor. I watch him kiss my shoulder, my ear, almost as if I’m watching someone else. I feel his warm breath, his wet tongue on my skin, but this woman, flushed with passion, can’t be me. I never would have agreed to come to my lover’s house. To his bedroom. Would never have discovered that he sleeps on green and gold.

The man in the glass reaches around the woman’s waist and holds her heavy breasts in his hands. He cups them in his palms as if he is testing their weight and then skims his thumbs across the dark red nipples.

I can’t stop myself from arching back against him, pressing my breasts up into his hands. I can’t pretend this isn’t me, that these aren’t my breasts being teased with his nimble fingers. I can’t pretend that I don’t want more, even as I resent the desire. My body comes alive in the reflection on the glass, bending and swaying as he plays my body with his fingers.

“Caroline,” he murmurs in my ear. I’ve always liked the way my name sounds in those cultured tones. It will never sound the same coming from anyone else’s lips and the thought makes me sigh.

I untie the knot at my waist and unwrap the pareo. It slides down my hips and falls to join the bikini top on the carpet. Alan watches in the glass as I bare myself for him and I hear his breath catch. He clutches my breasts a little tighter and I like the way his fingers dig into my sensitive flesh.

I slide one hand across my abdomen and down between my legs, over the smooth pussy I keep freshly shaved for him. As I slip a finger through the swollen folds, it becomes slick with the juices of my arousal. We are still watching each other in the glass and I catch his hooded gaze. I plunge two fingers into my aching sex, coating them with my cream and I swear his eyes darken, his breath becomes shallower. My inner muscles clench on my fingers, reluctant to let them go, but I slide them back out, dragging them across my clit as I go because I simply can’t stop myself. I shiver a little as the tiny bit of friction sends a burst of sensations through my body.

Our eyes are still on our reflection in the window as I reach over my shoulder and slide the coated fingers into his mouth. He latches on to my fingers, sucking and licking them as he continues to knead my breasts. His moan is loud in my ear. Mine is too.

He rolls my nipples between his fingers, twisting them, sending jolts of arousal shooting through my body. I drop my head back against his shoulder, gasping at the sharp sensations. He releases my fingers from his mouth, kissing the fingertips as I slowly draw my hand across my shoulder and drop it back down to my side.

“Come to bed,” he says softly.

I want to tell him no. I want to pull him to the floor and fuck him on the soft carpet until I can’t think about all the reasons this is wrong, but I let him turn me around in his arms.

“Thank you,” he says, as if he understands my presence here is a gift I don’t bestow on many men.

On any men.

He takes my lips gently then, kissing me with an unfamiliar tenderness. His long fingers stroke my face as his lips slide across mine. I didn’t ask for tenderness. I don’t want it. I’m scared to death of it and so I pull away from him.

At least, I want to pull away. I think about pulling away, I really do. Instead I lean into the kiss, accepting the tenderness, taking incredible pleasure in it, even though it’s the last thing I should do. I find I’m giving it back too in a way I’ve never done before. I nibble on his lips instead of frantically crushing mine to his. I sway against his body, brushing against him instead of pressing hard. And all the time he’s stroking my skin, tempting me with tenderness, kissing me gently yet with a passion I can’t resist.

When I’m breathless from the kiss, mindless from his lips on mine, he steps away and takes my hand, leading me to the bed. Kissing me senseless must have been his plan all along, for I find myself climbing onto the soft bed without a sound. Find myself opening my arms to him.

He joins me on the mattress and lays me down, my head on a pillow as soft as clouds. The fabric beneath my body is as soft as silk, perhaps it even is silk. At the moment, I don’t care. I want to feel his hard body against mine and his cock deep within me, that’s all that matters right now.

I reach out to him, grasp his arms to pull him down on top of me, but he won’t let me rush things. He kisses my fingertips, his lips a mere tickle along my skin. Then he gently places my hands down on the mattress. He kneels beside me and I swear I can feel his gaze as it sweeps over me. Lust is evident in his expression, but there’s something more there, something I don’t even want to think about.

“Incredible,” he murmurs. He combs his fingers through my hair, spreading it out on the pillow around my head. I suddenly feel young and foolish again and although I know that shouldn’t be a good thing, at the moment it feels damn good. I smile up at him as I lie naked before him. On his bed of all places. With the light shining on us both. I have to be crazy.

“I’ve pictured you here so often,” he says, his voice soft and slow. “During these past weeks, when I’ve been missing you.” He sweeps his hands across my shoulders and down my arms. “I’ve dreamed of you here, lying on my bed, opening yourself to me, exactly like this.”

He’s been missing me? Why does the thought fill me with joy instead of apprehension? I lie relaxed beneath his fingers as they trail along my body. He tenderly runs his hands up and down along my arms, warming the skin, relaxing me further. Then he gently caresses my breasts, rolling his flat palm over my nipples. The incredible tingles flow through my body and it makes me smile like a fool.

He moves his hands lower, sweeping his fingers across my ribs, my abdomen, dipping into my navel. I nearly melt into the mattress, like paint left in the sun too long. Then his hand roams lower still, sliding between my thighs, slipping through the slick folds. I am so wet for him. I am so ready for him, but not with that frantic need that has churned within me in the past.

I have never been so aroused and yet so relaxed, and the sudden realization makes me tense up again. He’s been seducing me with his hands, damn him. With his practiced hands and nimble fingers. He’s been seducing me with his low voice telling me how beautiful I am. How much he wants me. How much he needs me.

My heart slams into my ribs. “I have to go,” I blurt out, struggling to sit up.

Is it fear that flashes in his eyes before he clutches my shoulders? “You can’t leave now,” he says. I can tell he intends for his voice to sound calm and seductive again, but I catch the underlying thread of desperation. “Don’t go, Caroline. Don’t leave like this.” He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my neck where my pulse must be pounding wildly. “We both need to finish this.”

He’s right. I can’t tell if my heart races from the panic or the arousal. “Turn off the light,” I demand.

With more patience than I could ever have, he gently lowers me back onto the mattress. He shakes his head. “I’m not hiding in the dark anymore. I want to see you as I make love to you. I want to see your body when it moves for me.”

He cups me between my legs and easily slides two fingers deep into my core. I rock my hips to take him deeper, there’s no way I can stay still. “I want to see the way your eyes darken when I plunge into your wet pussy. I want to see how shiny and puffy those pretty pink lips become when I play with them.” He smiles as I feel my face grow warm. “I want to see the way your skin flushes when I talk to you this way.”

It’s ridiculous for me to blush. I’ve heard him say much more graphic things to me. I’ve said them back to him, for heaven’s sake. But tonight is different. We’re not whispering these words in the dark when we’re hidden from each other’s eyes. The words seem to have more meaning as we lie together in his bed with no shadows to hide behind.

“I’m going to love every inch of your body,” he goes on before I have a chance to catch my breath. His lips follow the trail of his hands, sweeping up my arm, across my breasts, lingering on my nipples as he knows I want him to do. I have no defenses against this man tonight, and while in the back of my mind the thought frightens the hell out of me, my body rejoices and my heart hesitates at the edge of the lake, not yet daring to take the plunge.

I tangle my fingers in his soft hair as he runs his tongue across my stomach, dipping it into my navel as his fingers had done only minutes before. When his mouth reaches my swollen sex, I don’t recognize the moan that escapes my lips. His tongue is soft and wet as he sweeps the length of my aching pussy, laving my folds and sending my senses spinning. His chin is rough against my sensitive flesh, but it merely spins the arousal even higher.

He doesn’t stop there. I almost whine when he leaves my pussy and I have to release my grasp on him. He ventures farther down my body, brushing his hands and lips across my sensitive inner thighs. My legs shake with delight. He nibbles his way down to my ankles, kissing, licking, sucking on my skin.

For the first time I enjoy taking it slow. I close my eyes and savor the sensations swirling through me, revel in the way his mouth plays my body.

And his hands. I’ve always loved his hands. When he reaches the bottom of the bed, he takes one of my feet in his hands and strums his fingers along the sensitive skin on the bottom. I practically purr. The roughness of his calloused fingers creates a delicious friction that adds to the shivers running through me. I want him to continue doing that for hours, the stroking and licking and sucking on my legs and feet. I want him to stop taking his good old time and get back to my throbbing pussy. I don’t know what I want anymore. I begin to wriggle my ass on the bed, unable to relax another moment.

He must sense my restlessness is back. He gently strokes my calf and begins a slow, wet trail with his mouth back up my other leg. I can’t lie still. I rock my hips in a futile attempt to relieve the divine pressure building between my legs. I grab for his head and cry out his name.

He catches my hands and kisses my damn fingers again. It was sweet the first couple times, but now I’m getting annoyed. I want those lips someplace else right now. I want that mouth between my legs. His lips pulling on my slick folds. That tongue rubbing on my swollen clit. He’s driving me crazy.

But maybe that’s his intent.

Finally, he finds his way back to that sweet spot between my legs. I sigh and spread wide open for him, trying not to think about the light shining above me, picking up the glistening moisture I can feel sliding from my core. And when he dives in, I don’t care about anything but finding that release.

It must be the musician in him that can nibble on my labia, tug on them with his teeth, rub his tongue along the folds and build the need in my body to a frantic crescendo. I clutch the silky comforter with my hands. I’m so close. So close. But then he slows down the strokes of his tongue before I hit the high note, softening the waves of arousal until it is no longer frantic but no less powerful.

“Alan!” I grab on to his head so he can’t leave, fearful he’s going to tease me again. The throbbing in my pussy echoes through my whole body. I pulse with overwhelming need. I fear he’s going to drag this out until I can’t take it any longer.

But then he sucks lightly on my clit and the orgasm slams into me like a tidal wave. I cry out as I never could do on the beach, bucking against his mouth, enduring the rub of his tongue over and over, taking me higher yet before I settle back down onto the mattress.

My breath comes in gasps. I realize my fingers are still clenched in his hair and I relax them, release him. I expect him to rise up and enter me. I’m ready for him to fill me. To feel the slide of his cock into my body. But he pauses at my breasts and gathers them in his hands.

“So beautiful,” he says.

He presses my breasts together and suckles one and then the other of my nipples. God, it’s wonderful. Prickles of the most incredible sensations shoot through my body. He keeps switching back and forth so that it’s almost as if he’s sucking on them both at the same time. My sensitive clit begins to throb again, my body to crave even more, all over again.

“Come here, Alan,” I find myself whispering. “Please come here.”

When he looks in my eyes, I’m spellbound by the desire on his face. Do I look at him like that? Is my desire so transparent? I hope not.

He leans over and grabs a condom from a drawer in the nightstand.

“Let me.” I sit up and take the package from him. In the past, he’s always hurriedly rolled on the condom in the darkness, just a task to get out of the way before we can fuck. But tonight seems to be all about drawing out the desire and I want to help with that.

He watches me silently as I slowly rip the package open. I draw the condom out of the package, but before I roll it on him, I lean over and take that magnificent cock into my mouth one more time. Such strength between my lips. Such power against my tongue. I take him as deep as I can until his rigid length hits the back of my throat. I’m enjoying the feel of him in my mouth so much that I speed up the ride, almost releasing him before taking him deep again. And again.

Alan groans and I look up at him, his cock still practically down my throat. His pleasure is reflected in the intense set of his jaw. The sweat-slicked sheen of his skin glistens in the light and I’m glad that this time I can appreciate the sight of him enjoying the ride I’m taking him on. I slide up until only the round, full head is still in my mouth. It’s slick and wet and I run my tongue along the ridge. I can taste the bit of fluid that seeps out of the slit at the top and so I begin to suck on the head of his cock.

He gasps and tenses. His hands grasp my shoulder. “Enough.” The word sounds strangled and I grin as I open my lips and let him out.

I slowly roll the condom over his rigid shaft, using both hands to stroke him as I do. His cock jerks in my hand, eager, impatient.

“Lie down,” he demands harshly and I can tell he’s reached the end of his endurance.

I drop back onto the mattress and open my arms to him. He stretches atop me and I welcome his hard body as it blankets mine. He covers my lips with his, hot and wet. The head of his cock rubs against my pussy and I almost cry, I’m so ready for him. His hard cock slides easily into my welcoming body. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close.

He moves slowly inside me, teasing my sensitive flesh. I relish the way he fills me and my inner muscles clench around his cock. He continues his assault on my mouth, licking and sucking, and I hungrily respond. Our breaths mingle. Our cries harmonize.

The slick slide of his cock against my flesh brings the buzz of desire rushing through my body again. He plunges his tongue into my mouth and I suck on it in rhythm with his cock’s slow, sensual slide. His eyes are closed and I marvel at the way his long lashes lie upon his cheek.

I want to fuck him forever. When he’s inside me, when I’m wrapped around him like this, there is no past, there is no future. There’s only him and me. There’s only now. There’s only the slide of skin and the rush of arousal and the mindless slap of flesh against flesh.

That’s the way I like it. That’s the only way it can be.

I close my eyes as the sensations threaten to overwhelm me. My body takes over, soaring to the strains of music he plucks from somewhere deep inside me. Tears slide from my eyes. I wrap my legs around his hips as my body flies, taking him up and over with me.

His body tenses and he groans into my mouth. His hips pump long and hard until he collapses, lying heavily on top of me. I let go of one shoulder to swipe at the wetness on my cheeks. Then I wind my arm around him again. Usually, I would be pushing him off me by now, but tonight there is something comforting about the warm weight of his body surrounding me. It’s been fifteen years since I slept in a man’s arms and I am more tempted tonight than I have ever been before.

Panic scrambles in my stomach and I push up on his shoulders. “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry.” He rolls over so that he is lying beside me. He kisses my nose. “Be right back.” As soon as he disappears into the bathroom, I crawl out of the bed. I have to get out of here. I snatch up the pareo and wrap it around my hips with shaky hands. I hear him behind me before I can reach for the top.

“Don’t leave.”

Chapter Three

I turn around slowly. He looks so handsome, so thoroughly loved, and I want to throw myself into his arms. I wrap my arms around myself. “I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.” He takes a small step toward me and I fight the urge to back away as strongly as I fight the urge to throw myself into his arms. “There’s no one waiting for you at your lonely cottage. Stay here with me. I want to see the sunrise with you.”

His voice seduces me again. “Sunrise?” I repeat stupidly, as if I’ve never heard the word before.

“I want to make you breakfast and watch you paint and walk the shore together hand in hand.” He takes my hand and leads me away from the bed. He must think to distract me by taking me through the sliding glass doors and out onto a long, second-story deck that runs the length of the house. Solid walls at either end block out the view of neighboring houses. Slender railings along the front barely interfere with the view of the lake. Two lounge chairs and a table sit in one corner of the deck. A large telescope stands in the other.

A few tiny spots of light from boats run across the lake in front of us. As I look out over the lake, I see that his house is built on a point at the edge of a cove. I walk over to the telescope. From the corner where it sits, I can see back to the beach. I put my hand on the cool metal and turn to throw a questioning gaze to Alan.

“How do you think I know when you’re at the beach?” He comes up to stand beside me, looking out toward the beach. Was he picturing me walking there, alone and needy?

How did he know? Did I even think about it? He simply appeared one night and I never questioned it. I just took him in my arms and seduced him. Or did he seduce me? It didn’t matter. I had to get out of here.

He stepped into my path. It hurt to look at him. “Stay, Caroline.”

The breeze pulls at my hair and I rub my arms. “I’m cold.”

“Stay. You need me.”

“I’m not the one watching like a peeping Tom, waiting for me to appear.”

“No, you’re the one wandering the beach, waiting for me to appear.”

I start to step around him, there’s plenty of room, but he puts his hands on my shoulders. The expression on his face is suddenly serious. A thread of dread snakes down my spine. He’s still gloriously naked. I’m only wearing the pareo around my hips. I wish I could grab a blanket to wrap around me, to protect me from whatever it is he’s about to say.

“Caroline, I’ve recently been offered a lot of money for this house.”

The fist in my stomach clenches tighter. I knew it. This is what I had been trying to protect myself from all along. “You’re going to sell the house? Move away?”

“I’m not going to stay here without you. And I’m not content to take the tiny bits of time you allow me.” He drops his hands from my shoulders and I shiver. “I love you, Caroline. I need you in my life. In my heart. I want you to come with me when I go on tour again next month. We’re going to Europe. To Paris. London. Rome. You can bring your easel. You can paint while I’m playing, and when I’m not, we can walk together along the Champs Élysées. Through the Coliseum. I can show you the neighborhood where I grew up.”

I can’t listen. I can’t be tempted. “And when you tire of me?”

“What?”

I struggle to keep my voice flat and unemotional when I’m screaming inside. “You’ll abandon me where I don’t know a single soul.”

He puts his arms around me and I let him because I’m suddenly so cold. “Of course not. I love you.”

I shiver anyway. “That’s what he said.”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

I hate admitting my weakness to him. “I couldn’t survive that again.”

He leads me over to a lounge chair and takes my hands when we sit on the soft cushion. “Tell me. God, please tell me.”

The words tumble from my mouth. “I loved a man once, desperately. More, I thought, than any woman had ever loved a man.” Had I really been that young and naïve? “I would have followed him anywhere. I did follow him everywhere, all over the country while he went from job to job. We’d only just arrived here in this little lakeside community. I knew no one. I didn’t even have a job.”

I rub my hands up and down my arms. “One morning I woke up and the silence was crushing. I found a note saying he was gone. He didn’t love me anymore.” I close my eyes and feel the devastation as if it was yesterday. “I almost killed myself.” I open my eyes and look at Alan. “It frightens me now to think how close I came to killing myself.” I can still feel the razor in my hand, see the veins in my wrists, blue against the pale skin. I hate thinking I was ever that weak.

“But you’re not that woman any longer,” he says to me, as if he can read my mind. He clutched my hands. “I can say I’ll be with you forever, but we both know there are things over which we have no control. I can promise to never be a cowardly bastard who would leave a note behind when I sneak out of your bed. But even if I did, Caroline, you are strong enough to survive.”

I wish I could believe him. I blink away tears and turn my gaze away from him, up into the starry night sky. “I’m cold. I have to go.”

“So you’ve become a coward yourself.” Disappointment rings in his voice.

My head snaps back around to stare at him. “What?”

“You’re afraid to try again. Afraid to love again. And by giving in to the fear, you cheat yourself.”

The truth in his words wash over me. He’s right. I don’t like what that says about me.

He kisses my trembling fingers and I find the gesture endearing once again. “Did you think it was easy for me to admit I love you? To ask you to come with me when I knew the chances were excellent that you would turn me down?”

I shake my head with shame. “I’m sorry.” I’ve been selfish, not thinking about his feelings at all. I’ve been toying with him for months, using him for sex, telling myself that’s what he wanted too. But I knew better. Each time we were together, we grew a little closer, learned more about each other.

Was I strong enough to let myself need him? To let myself believe?

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Caroline. But your past is part of who you are now. If you’d never followed him here, you’d have never fallen in love with this place and stayed. You’d have never started walking the beach at sunset so I could find you when the time was right.”

I cup his beautiful face with my hands. His features are blurry through my tears. “You did find me, didn’t you?” I think of my lonely double bed. The CD I’ve played constantly. All the portraits I’ve painted over. “I do need you, Alan, and it scares the hell out of me. I’m not sure I know how to do this, but…I want to try.”

“Don’t worry,” he says as he lowers his lips to mine. “I’m a patient man.”

I kiss him tenderly. I soak in his warmth and I’m not cold anymore. As our lips slide against each other, the heat builds again. My skin quickly catches fire. Can I need him again so quickly? Can I love him?

The truth hits me as I realize I’ve loved him for months. I’ll need him for the rest of my life. What a life we can have.

I push him back on the lounge chair and he leans back and stretches out his legs. I glance around, at the starry sky above and the lake before us. “Can anyone see us?”

“After what we did in the park tonight, do you even care?”

I shrug and when I straddle his hips, my pareo bunches up around my hips. His cock jerks in appreciation and it tickles my pussy. I lean over him and brush my lips across his. “I love you.”

His eyes fill with tears at the words and I work to ignore the twinge of panic that wants to spear my stomach. Maybe we’re getting a little too sentimental here. This is going to take a little time.

“I want to paint you.” Painting I can understand.

His smile takes my breath away. “Paint me?”

I grin. “Would you be scandalized if I said I’d like you to pose nude for me?”

He lifts his eyebrows and grabs my hips, pulling me against his once-again rigid cock. I shiver as it slides along my clit. “As long as you’re the only one to see the painting.”

I look at the lights reflecting on the lake before us and try not to grin. “A man who walks around his deck naked shouldn’t care. I thought it might hang in one of those Paris galleries we’ll visit.” I rub against him again and my breath comes a little faster. “You’ve got me so inspired I might want to do a whole series of nudes.”

Alan slides his hand along my thigh, and when he reaches my ass, he gives it a sharp slap. I gasp, but continue to rock against his cock. “When did you get such a sassy mouth?”

“Since you loved me.” A weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so carefree. I rise onto my knees and guide his cock along my slick pussy to the entrance to my sex. I sink down onto him and our groans of pleasure escape into the night. As I ride his cock, I spread my arms wide and feel the breeze along my heated skin.

Suddenly I freeze. No condom.

Alan looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”

I gaze down at the man I love and realize there’s nothing wrong. There’s nothing between us any longer, as it should be. I lean over to place a gentle kiss on his lips. The past is no longer important and our future is bright with possibilities.

As we make love, I glance up at the spectacular sky and catch a glimpse of that crescent moon. Perhaps I have one dream left to hang upon its hook.

Surrender Dorothy

Anna J. Evans

Chapter One

Lions, and tigers, and bears…oh my.

Gelsey Carland took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on Aunt Em’s ripped hem, then on the cold concrete beneath her knees and finally resorted to mentally quoting lines from the play in a last-ditch attempt to regain her shattered focus.

None of it worked.

Who was she kidding? Who gave a flying fig about lions and tigers and bears when the Tin Man was standing in the doorway in nothing but his steel gray bodysuit, waiting for her to strap him into his can?

God, I’d like to have him strap me to something—like maybe that pole in the corner. He wouldn’t stop until he’d laid me bare, until he’d run the cold metal of my sewing scissors between my breasts and—

“Is there a problem, dear?” Aunt Em, also known as Cora, bent down to peer into Gelsey’s face.

“Nope, no problem. Almost done.” Gelsey smiled and prayed her lustful thoughts hadn’t shown in her eyes.

Cora had forgiven her for being a sorry excuse for a costume designer, but X-rated daydreams would get her fired. She might look like a sweet little old lady, but Finley, Indiana’s resident drama queen didn’t tolerate fraternization between the summer theatre staff and the visiting actors. If she even suspected Gelsey was lusting after Mackenzie Fellows, Cora would kick her out of the summer stock housing faster than Gelsey could say “there’s no place like home”.

Considering the past few weeks had been some of the calmest Gelsey had ever known—the power that had been her curse since she was a girl having been wonderfully inactive in this small town—she didn’t want to do anything to risk her newfound peace of mind.

“In fact, you’re good to go. You look great, Cora.” Gelsey smiled.

“Good. The meet and greet is already in progress. If I’m going to woo potential donors, I have to get out there. What about you, Fellows? Will you be meeting and greeting?” Cora’s voice sweetened markedly as she turned to address the man in the doorway.

But who could resist talking sweet to a bronze god with dark brown hair that hung in waves down to his shoulders, bright blue eyes you could drown in and a body that could make a dead woman drool?

“Of course. Wouldn’t be suiting up if I weren’t.” He smiled, but Gelsey could swear she heard irritation beneath that deep, rumbling baritone.

Was it her imagination or did Fellows loathe Cora and her endless fundraising as much as Gelsey herself? Or maybe he simply hated Cora’s rules against getting involved with her “help”. She had caught him looking at her more than once, staring longingly in her direction when he wasn’t busy glaring at her like she was bubblegum he’d found stuck to his shoe.

Maybe, just maybe, he had been lusting after her just as she’d been lusting after him. Maybe, even now, he ached to pull her into his arms, slam the costume shop door behind them and give her the screwing of her life right up against the wall. Maybe—

“Gelsey? Are you well?” The man himself stood directly in front of where she knelt on the concrete.

At some point during her fantasies, Cora had departed and Mackenzie crossed the room. Now he was close enough for her to catch the clean, sharp scent of him, a smell that reminded her of warm, rainy days in the Irish countryside, of a time before her parents were killed and she was sent to the States to live with her Aunt Claire. Gelsey was tempted to close her eyes and suck that smell down into her very soul…but that would mean shutting out a view far too tempting for words.

Mackenzie Fellows’ cock had to be huge. Even at rest, the bulge Gelsey could see plainly through his bodysuit was an intimidating length. When he was aroused, he had to be simply enormous, so big it might even hurt a bit when he pushed that thick length inside her, no matter how wet she might be. And she would be wet.

Hell, she was wet right now.

“Gelsey?”

“What? Oh, no. I mean, yes…I’m fine. Sorry.” She laughed, a high-pitched giggle she was sure Mac found ridiculous. He seemed to find everything about her ridiculous, from the wild gypsy skirts she wore to her pride at being one of the only people in town to sample each of the one hundred brews on tap down at the local tavern. He didn’t even like her cat, for god’s sake. She’d seen him scowling darkly at Dorothy during each of the company picnics.

Of course, the cat was a pain in the ass. It wasn’t even really hers. She’d inherited it from the costumer designer before her, a woman so obsessed with The Wizard of Oz she’d named her cat Dorothy and dressed as Glinda the Good Witch—full time. Unfortunately, she’d also been too caught up in her own idea of how Cora’s version of The Wizard of Oz should be costumed. She’d gotten herself fired before the first actor rehearsal, making room for Gelsey to take her place.

Maybe if she explained that to Mackenzie—let him know she really wasn’t a cat person, but couldn’t stand letting Cora send Dorothy to the pound—maybe he’d give her a second chance. Maybe he’d even consent to get more intimately acquainted with a pussy of an entirely different variety…

Get a grip, Gel!

Gelsey shook herself, trying to banish the fog of lust that seemed determined to keep swirling through her head. Sure, it had been a long time since she’d done anything with a man other than take his measurements, but that didn’t explain the way this man affected her. Even his voice made her ache, made her nipples tighten against her tank top until she thought she would die if he didn’t touch them. For a split second, she thought it might be worth being homeless to feel Mac’s hands pulling at her clothes, smoothing over her heated flesh, maybe even pinching her aching tips before he lowered his mouth to her breast, licking and sucking and—

“Gelsey?”

“What?” Gelsey jumped, blinking rapidly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Gelsey snapped, frustration with herself making her voice sharp.

“You don’t look fine. You’re look like you’re in heat.”

“What?!” He hadn’t just said that!

Gelsey lifted shocked green eyes to meet his blue. Her view was partially obstructed by the auburn curls escaping from her ponytail, but Mackenzie looked amazingly innocent for a man who had just compared her to an animal yearning to rut.

“I said, you don’t look fine,” he enunciated slowly. “Do you think it’s the heat?”

Of course that’s what he’d said. She was just a pervert, a desperate, horny pervert whose ears were playing tricks on her.

“No, it’s nothing, really…I’m just…woo-ah.” Suddenly the heat in the small room was stifling. Her cheeks fairly burned with it, a flush she could feel spreading down her neck. Her fair skin was becoming mottled and bruised looking, no doubt, but that was the least of her worries. If she didn’t cool down, she was going to faint, or yack, or maybe faint and yack—none of which was likely to impress her sex god.

Maybe if she could just get to the sink in the corner, get some water on her face…

She stood on shaky legs and immediately regretted the decision. The room spun, the bulbs surrounding the makeup mirrors blurring until the costume shop seemed consumed with an orange light. A light that would burn her alive if she didn’t get out of here.

“Here, lean into me.” She could barely hear Mac, the pulse pounding in her ears roared so loudly. Her blood was boiling, surging through her veins with an unhealthy speed that made her feel alarmingly lightheaded.

So lightheaded that…shit.

“I’m going to faint.” Gelsey was fairly certain she whispered the words aloud, but couldn’t be sure. Mac must have sensed her distress, however, because he chose that moment to swoop her up in his arms.

The world spun again. She had a split second to register how truly wonderful those strong arms felt cradling her against Mac’s broad chest before the gray dots dancing on the edges of her vision began to close in.

“Little witch,” she thought she heard Mackenzie mutter against the top of her head, though she couldn’t be sure. Just in case, she put it on her mental “to-do” list to stop lusting after this jerk as soon as she could stand.

Any man who would basically call her a bitch for daring to faint from heat exhaustion before she could strap him into his tin can didn’t deserve to be the focus of her hormonal cravings. Let alone the more ridiculous daydreams she’d had about finding some way to touch his heart the way he’d touched hers.

The Tin Man didn’t have a heart. Every Wizard of Oz fan knew that.

* * * * *

Stephen considered taking two minutes to get out of his stupid bodysuit and into some street clothes, but the bright red cheeks of the woman in his arms told him he didn’t have time. The heating spell he’d worked in the room shouldn’t have affected a witch channeling a familiar’s magic so strongly. But for some reason, Gelsey had passed out, which was the last thing he needed. He had to get her out in the fresh air, help her come to.

But couldn’t this make it easier? If she were asleep when you stripped her? You could wake her up slowly, kissing down her throat, her breasts, running your hands up to find—

“Damn it.” He cursed under his breath and made a run for the door that led to the outside loading dock. He needed to get out of the theatre before anyone saw them. Gelsey passed out in his arms would be bad enough, Gelsey passed out in his arms and him with a raging hard-on visible through his ridiculous costume would be a disaster.

He wouldn’t need this job as cover after tonight, once they performed the Midsummer Rite, but he didn’t need anyone getting in his way either. He needed to get Gelsey alone, completely at his mercy and force her to surrender herself and her familiar. The cat she called Dorothy was under the power of the Minos coven. It had led one of the black witches right to her door. Thankfully, Stephen had found Mackenzie Fellows before he could kill Gelsey. He’d slit his throat and returned the remains to the chieftain of his coven as a warning.

A warning Cronos had considered a challenge. He’d declared open warfare on the gray witches the day after, putting an end to the Sambucus coven’s hopes of avoiding any further bloodshed.

As if inter-coven warfare weren’t enough to deal with, Stephen was discovered in the slain man’s quarters after cleaning up the remnants of their battle and was mistaken for Mackenzie Fellows himself. He’d spent the past three weeks fighting off Minos coven members, all while dancing, singing and suffering the indignity of strapping himself into a tin can for three dress rehearsals while he waited for the longest day of the year.

He needed the power of the solstice to give Gelsey the mark of their coven. She was a strong witch, but with magic more easily bent to black than gray or white. That was why the Minos coven wanted her so desperately. It was also why her parents had arranged to send the girl away from the Sambucus coven, away from Ireland itself, in the event of their deaths. They must have hoped to hide her among mortals until she was of age to receive the coven mark, the metaphysical brand that would disable her darker potential.

Her parents hadn’t wanted Gelsey to go the way of black magic and neither did Stephen. He’d already risked his life and his freedom to ensure it. Now he would risk his heart.

Gelsey stirred in his arms as they left the building, but didn’t wake. It was nearly seven o’clock, but the sun had yet to set and the evening light glowed pink and gold. Cicadas hummed in the cooling air and the smell of sweet clover and freshly plowed earth was thick and heavy as Stephen ran toward the grove at the edge of the small town.

It was a night for magic if he had ever seen one. Now if he could just keep from being slain by Minos coven members who would no doubt be lying in wait, convince Gelsey to give up her familiar and earn the astral favor of the familiars of his own coven, all would be well.

Might as well do all that standing on your head. Just to really give yourself a challenge.

“Get out of my head, Warren. You didn’t think I could sing and dance either.”

And you sure showed me. You prance real pretty, like a little faerie princess.

“Just keep watch, you bastard,” Stephen growled as he passed Warren’s hiding place inside a giant concrete tunnel at the center of the town’s playground. He was glad Warren had come to help, but a little more help and a little less raging telepathic pessimism would be appreciated.

The woman hates you. I mean, I think she might want to fuck you, but her last thought before she passed out was that you had no heart. She’s never going to promise herself in handfast, and if she doesn’t promise—

“Shut up, Warren.”

I’m just trying to—

“Shut. Up. Warren.”

Fine. But be careful, Stephen. The Minos ride tonight. I feel their death magic on the air.

Stephen ignored the hairs rising on his neck and ran faster. He would make it to the grove and he would make love to the woman in his arms, show her with every touch the magic they could create together. And maybe, just maybe, the night’s events would unfold smoothly, according to the plans of the gods and of the Sambucus coven’s wise elders.

And maybe we’ll all die. You take heads, I’ll take tails.

“If you don’t leave my thoughts, I’ll kill you myself.”

Stephen felt a slight pressure at his temples as Warren’s awareness left him. Good. He didn’t want a third party observing his first time with Gelsey, and if the Minos found him before their goals were accomplished…

No, he wasn’t going to think on that or fear it either. He would do what he had to do to ensure the safety of his coven and the balance of magic in the world, even if that meant his death. Hell, he’d half expected this mission would be his last. Now only time, and a night of magic, would tell.

Chapter Two

There was music playing, faint fiddle music that reminded Gelsey of home. Ireland, the only home she’d ever known. She could practically smell the soda bread her mother was cooking, feel the cool stone floor beneath her bare feet. She’d only been six years old when her parents had died and the executor of their estate put her on a plane to America. Sometimes she had a hard time remembering their faces, but she could remember the smell of the herb lotion her mother made in her huge vat on the stove, and the way her dad’s eyes crinkled around the edges when he grinned.

“Gelsey. Wake, little witch, the sun sets and the Rite must begin.”

As soon as the male voice spoke, the music in her head fled with dizzying swiftness, only to fade back in, softly, when a warm summer breeze swept over her bare skin. It felt so delicious to experience the wind this way, without any clothes between her and the—

“Where are my clothes?” She sat up fast, eyes flying open as her arms crossed over her breasts. Her first instinct was to jump to her feet and make a naked run for it, back to the theatre, when she saw him. All of him. “Better question, where are your clothes?” She meant for the words to be harsh, accusatory, but they came out breathy, an unmistakable invitation.

“Can you really call that thing ‘clothes’? It itches something fierce.” He sat cross-legged on the simple brown blanket, as naked as the day he was born, a huge mixing bowl cradled between his legs. “Felt like I was wearing wool pantyhose clear up to my neck.”

“How do you know what pantyhose feel like?”

“Good question. But if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He smiled, a wicked grin that lit up his face and transformed the usually handsome Mackenzie Fellows into something extraordinary. He was gorgeous, he was naked, he was showing signs of a sense of humor and he’d kidnapped her for some sort of kink-fest out in the woods. On the surface, it was exactly what she’d wanted from this man.

So why was her every instinct still screaming that she should get up and run—fast—and not stop until she was leaving the state of Indiana?

Maybe because he did actually kidnap you! And strip your clothes off while you were unconscious and take his own clothes off too and now—

“Mac, this is very…flattering, but—”

“Stephen. My real name is Stephen. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but you didn’t seem able to keep a secret to save your life.” He smiled as he said the words, but they still stung. What did he know about her? Or her ability to keep secrets?

“Excuse me, but what the hell do you know about—”

“You talked nonstop about the entire cast’s business while you were fitting me. I assumed you did the same with everyone else. I couldn’t risk telling you too much.” He dipped a finger into the bowl between his legs and began casually tracing a red symbol on his bare chest—which she couldn’t help but notice had the perfect amount of chest hair, not too much, not too little. Not to mention that he was muscled like a warrior, not a musical theatre performer. Mac—Stephen—looked like he could handle himself in the ring, or on the battlefield if the faint scars marking his skin were any indication.

Gelsey felt another whisper of unease raise the hairs at the back of her neck. There was something wrong here, something more than a man reluctant to reveal he had a stage name.

“In fact, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.” He grinned again and anger quickly banished her fear.

“I talked nonstop because you stood there glaring at me and—”

“I never glared,” he said, glaring.

“You did! You always—”

“I wouldn’t glare at a woman, especially not one so terribly important to me. Or so beautiful.” A trace of an Irish accent, a trace she’d heard before, found its way into his voice, making her shiver. Then she met his eyes, eyes filled with passion and, more surprisingly, sincerity, and shivered again.

“Are you ever going to let me finish a sentence?” Gelsey swallowed hard and fought the desire beginning to unfurl low in her belly. She was glad she’d kept her hands in front of her breasts. At least he couldn’t see how her nipples tightened, aching for him to touch them, for him to trace crazy red symbols over her body and then follow the path with his tongue.

“I just did.” He finished the final mark with his finger, closing off the last in a series of four triangles, each pointing in a different direction. “Now it’s your turn. Will you become the bone of my bones, the flesh of my flesh, making us one flesh bound by—”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Gelsey leapt to her feet, no longer caring if Stephen caught a glimpse of her thigh dimples as she turned and fled. The man was insane, probably a serial killer from the sound of it. She’d been a fool to sit there as long as she had. “Flesh of my flesh” didn’t sound like any foreplay she’d ever heard of. No matter how much she wanted this man, she needed to haul tail back to civilization, reality, any place where she had more sense than to let her hormones lead her straight into an unmarked grave.

Graves, the dead, the power of the…

Gelsey shivered as the dark thoughts invaded her mind, so much stronger than they’d ever been before. Her head spun and her feet suddenly refused to move. The night wasn’t safe, something within her knew it as well as she knew her own name. Tonight she’d do much worse than raise a few pets from their resting place in the backyard or make a dead body sit up in its casket. If she let that strange power loose tonight, she would never have the chance at a normal life again.

She couldn’t leave this grove, but she couldn’t stay either. She was trapped, a realization that made a strangled sound escape from her throat.

“Wait, relax.” Stephen’s arms were around her before she could step off the blanket, thick bands of hard muscle that wrapped across her aching breasts. He pulled her back, gluing her back to his front, letting the crevice of her ass cradle his thick, heavy erection.

Damn, he was as big as she’d thought, bigger even. If that mixing bowl between his legs had been any smaller, there was no way he could have concealed his cock. And probably no way she would have been able to run. She wanted him, lusted after that hard length with a ferocity that was frightening.

“What are you going to do to me?” She closed her eyes and struggled not to arch her back, to press into his arousal like an animal in heat.

No matter that she was afraid or that she really didn’t know this man, she ached for him, had been aching for him to fuck her since the moment she set eyes on him. If he were to force her to her knees right now and take her from behind, she knew she wouldn’t protest. In fact, the mere thought made a rush of liquid heat pool between her thighs and her breath quicken with excitement.

“What do you want me to do to you, ah chumman?” His voice was husky, soft and his arms gentled around her. One hand traced the sensitive skin beneath her bare breast while the other feathered over her ribs. Gelsey stifled a moan and brought her hands to his, stopping his caresses.

“I want you to tell me why you brought me here, why we’re both naked and why a part of me is scared to death to leave you.” She took a deep breath, tamping down the desire that threatened to overwhelm her. “And why a part is scared to death to stay.”

“None are easy questions to answer.” He bent down and breathed the words against her neck, his hot breath on her skin making her pussy throb. God, how she wanted to feel that warm breath against her thighs as he kissed his way up to her sex. She wanted him to force her legs apart, bare her to him completely and tease through her slick folds with his tongue. She wanted his thick fingers shoving inside her, making her come, making her scream her release to the trees arching over them with a protective air.

“Are you saying you can’t answer them?” Gelsey asked, biting her lip as Stephen pressed a kiss to her throat, over where her pulse fluttered wildly.

“I didn’t say that.” Another kiss, the flick of a tongue, teeth dragging across her skin. Dear god in heaven, what had those questions been again? She was starting to forget everything but his touch, his smell, the burning heat of his arousal pressed so intimately against her backside. Even the tight ring of her anus was beginning to ache for Stephen’s touch, for the push of his slick thumb inside her ass as his cock tunneled into her core.

“Then you’d better start talking or I’m out of here.” The words sounded strong and she was glad of it, especially considering that with a few soft touches he had her body screaming for satisfaction, threatening mutiny if she dared to move an inch out of his strong arms.

“You can’t leave or you’ll break the circle.” He pointed to the ground, but not before he’d smoothed the flat of his palm down over her belly, perilously close to where she so desperately wanted him to touch her.

“Are you saying I can’t walk over that line?” The red circle was traced just outside the blanket and looked to be made of some sort of sand.

“Of course you can, but you’ll break the circle of protection. It’s not meant to keep us in, but to keep the others out.” His words sent a shiver over her skin and she pushed back closer to him against her will. “You can feel them out there, can’t you?”

“Feel who?” The hairs on Gelsey’s arms rose. She knew who. The bad guys, the really bad guys, the ones she could sometimes feel watching her, following her, driving her from town to town, too afraid to settle down lest they catch her.

“The Minos. They call to you, to your magic, that’s why you don’t know whether to stay or to go.”

“What magic?” Now she was really confused, and afraid.

How did Stephen know about her power? She hadn’t told anyone about what she could do. Ever. The only one who had known was Aunt Claire and she’d died when Gelsey was fifteen, murdered in the home they’d shared. Before she’d died, she’d warned Gelsey never to reveal her gift to anyone, that if she did she’d hasten her own journey to the grave.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gelsey said, fear making her words remarkably firm. “This little pagan seduction thing you’ve got going is creative, but you really are crazy if you think—”

“Don’t play games.” Stephen’s arms tightened around her again, enough to hurt, to make the air rush from her lungs and a small, strangled sound escape from her throat. “There isn’t time. You must abandon your familiar, abandon all sources of power except that of the earth and your—”

“Please, I really don’t understand.” There were tears in her voice now, but Gelsey knew it wasn’t fear of Stephen that put them there.

The darkness was closing in, she could feel it like the beating of her own heart, a dark rhythm that would steal her soul. The restless tattoo thrummed through the air, carried on the wind that rustled the leaves above their heads. The branches creaked and groaned, as if urging her to hurry, to run, to escape before it was too late.

“The cat you call Dorothy. You must sever all ties to her power as your familiar, free yourself from any Minos influence.”

“You really think I’m a witch,” Gelsey murmured, eyes sliding closed as her body grew cold.

“Gelsey? Gelsey!” Stephen spun her in his arms as her knees gave, the black power swelling so thick and heavy inside her that she could barely stand.

“Shit, we were wrong, Warren. She doesn’t know. Warren, are you…”

Gelsey tried to hold on to the sound of Stephen’s voice even though it sounded as if he were talking to someone else. But it slowly faded, making way for that voice that came to her in the night, curling its forked tongue into the shell of her ear.

Surrender to the call. The dead are waiting. The power is waiting. The graves of the innocent are—

No! Gelsey struggled to open her eyes. This couldn’t happen, she couldn’t allow the darkness to take control. She hadn’t spent ten years running away from evil only to sink into its clutches without a whimper of protest.

“So, take me as the bone of your bones, the flesh of your flesh, making us one flesh bound by the mark of our coven? Gelsey, answer me! Goddess, please, let her open her eyes.”

Stephen’s tormented face swam into focus and Gelsey could suddenly feel the trembling fingers that traced across her body. She lay flat on her back and he hovered over her, his hands caressing her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, building a heat that chased back the cold fingers of the wicked power. With every touch, every caress, desire flamed, bringing her back to herself until she writhed beneath his talented hands.

“Goddess, you’re beautiful.” He rolled her nipples between fingers and thumb and spread her thighs with firm hands behind her knees. “Will you have me, Gelsey? Will you take the mark?” He teased gentle fingers up and down her quivering flesh, then finally, finally moved between her legs.

“God, yes!” She moaned as his fingers slid over her clit and found the molten heat below, shoving into her with an air of possession that felt inexplicably right.

“Our coven honors the Goddess, but a ‘God, yes’ is good enough for me.”

Before she could make sense of his words, Stephen’s lips were on hers, bringing her body to life with a wild, primal electricity. She bowed off the ground, pressing closer to every inch of hard male she suddenly found on top of her, pinning her to the earth as red and golden light danced behind her closed eyes. For a split second, she felt a flash of pain somewhere deep in her core, but then the desire she’d thought couldn’t flame any higher grew even hotter, fiercer, until she was clawing at Stephen’s back, desperate for a satisfaction she sensed only he could give her.

“Fuck me, please,” she moaned against his lips, around the tangling of their tongues. He tasted of campfire smoke, the mist off a cold ocean and pure, wonderful man. Stephen was by far the best thing she’d ever had in her mouth, bar none, better than all one hundred varieties of beer on tap down at the local tavern. And Gelsey liked beer, a lot.

But she didn’t love it, not the way she knew she could love this man.

Could. Who was she kidding? She loved him already, had loved him since the first time he’d looked down his nose at her and asked exactly how many colors there really were in that “ridiculous skirt”.

“Please, Stephen, make love to me.”

“Nothing could keep me from it,” he said in a voice that made her believe every single word. Nothing would keep him from her, not wild horses, not armed soldiers, not even the fiery-eyed monsters that hovered above their heads, screaming in wordless fury.

Chapter Three

Gelsey screamed, a high-pitched shriek that made Stephen’s teeth rattle. No matter how much he’d like to, there was no mistaking that for a sound of passion. The death riders must have found them, which wasn’t going to allow time for any hearts and flowers and slow “let’s get to know and love each other” sex.

Stephen stole a quick look over his shoulder. They were death riders, all right, the black magically raised spirits of evildoers—half ghost, half demon, all pain in the ass. Thank the Goddess the sacred circle he’d cast protected them from above and below, as well as three hundred and sixty degrees around. They were protected from the glowing red eyes that could suck a mortal soul straight from its body and make a witch wish for death.

But time was running out.

Gelsey bore the mark of the Sambucus coven in her aura. By binding herself to him in handfast, they had completed the first part of the ritual, but they must also gain the approval of the familiars of their people in order to make the marking permanent. That would be easier in some ways, since Gelsey had never claimed a familiar before—though he still couldn’t believe he’d been wrong about her relationship with the cat, Dorothy.

In other ways, however, the process would be more difficult. She seemed to have no clue how to use her powers, let alone wield them with the control needed to bond her magic to their coven’s protectors in the metaphysical realm. If he hoped to finish the deed tonight, Stephen knew he was going to have to get creative with another’s magic, a thing he always found easier when their defenses were down.

And what better way to lower defenses than to make his new wife come until it felt the world was dissolving around her?

“Ohmygod, ohmygod!” Gelsey screamed again, flinching and covering her face with her arms as the death riders swooped down upon them, as close as they could get without violating the protective circle.

“Gelsey! Stop,” he ordered in a low, firm voice, turning back to the woman in his arms and silencing her with a kiss.

She melted into him with a moan, meeting the tongue he swept through her mouth with a sweet caress. She obviously felt the same mind-muddying lust that surged through him every time they touched.

Nevertheless, she commenced freaking out exactly where she had left off as soon as he pulled away. “Motherfucking hell, Stephen! There are monsters, ghouls, something—”

“They’re death riders, spies for the Minos coven.”

“Get up, we have to get out of—”

“They won’t be able to breach the circle. We’re going to be fine,” Stephen said, rolling them over so that Gelsey was on top, straddling his legs.

Or they’d be fine until whatever Minos witch had sent the death riders showed up, but no need to share that with Gelsey. He needed her relaxed, not in fear for her life. He’d do the fearing for both of them. And he was afraid, for his life, for hers, but mostly of losing her before they’d had the chance to share those lives.

There was no way in hell he’d let the Minos take her from him, not when he’d finally known the thrill of basking in the rosy glow of her power, her heart. Gelsey was sweetness and sass on the outside and pure, loving, giving soul on the inside. Stephen had sensed they could be a love match, not merely a magical fit, from the day he first met her. It had been hell waiting to touch her, hold her, fearing for her life every time she was out of his sight.

Evidently that had made him…crankier than usual, made her think he didn’t desire her, adore her, when in truth she was the most entrancing creature he’d ever met.

And there was the “ridiculous skirt” comment, asshole. Obviously she didn’t take that one well, wouldn’t talk to you for days after.

It wasn’t Warren’s smartass voice in his head this time, just his own inner critic doing a fine job of reminding him what a fool he’d been. Neglecting to woo Gelsey properly had been a mistake—no matter how focused he’d been on saving her life—and there was no time like the present to start making amends.

“What are you doing?” Gelsey looked at him like he was a madman, but didn’t move to block his hands. He cupped her breasts and softly, reverently swept his thumbs across her tips. Her nipples hardened instantly in response, making him ache to take the pebbled flesh into his mouth, to suck that sensitive skin until she writhed on top of him, until he could feel liquid heat trailing down her thighs and—

“Sorry, Stephen, there’s no way I’m getting it on with something from a horror movie flying over my head,” she said, obviously reading his intentions. “Call me crazy, but I don’t find eminent death an aphrodisiac.”

“I’ve told you, we have nothing to fear from them.” Stephen continued to tease and pluck at her nipples as he lifted his hips, urging his aching cock more tightly to her sex.

“God, you feel good.” She closed her eyes and groaned, rocking her hips back and forth, gliding her slick center up and down his cock, coating him with her arousal. “What the hell do you do to me?”

“I make you crazy?”

“That’s for sure.” Her eyes slid open the barest bit and the edge of her mouth quirked toward a grin. “Half the time I couldn’t decide if I wanted to hit you or kiss you.”

“Sorry about that. I’ll do my best to only drive you crazy in enjoyable ways from now on.” Stephen dug his fingers through her wild curls as she bent over him, taking his lips in a kiss that was as hot and sweet as any he’d known. “Now why don’t you let me keep a promise I made to myself?”

“What promise is that?”

“The one where I make you scream my real name when you come.” He fisted one hand in the hair at the base of her neck while the other smoothed down over her bottom. “On my cock.”

Wordlessly he unleashed a bit of his power, using it to lift Gelsey a few inches into the air and position his shaft at the entrance to her dripping sex.

“But I—oh…” He tunneled inside her before whatever words on her lips could escape into the night air, thrusting upward until he was completely encased in her tight, wet heat.

Goddess, she was tight, her pussy gripping him like a vise as he forced himself to hold still within her. He would have preferred to take more time, to lower his head between her legs and feast upon her cream until she shattered on his mouth, to gradually prepare her for penetration with a few warm-up orgasms. But time was a luxury they didn’t have. He needed to lower her defenses and summon the full power of his own magic, two feats more easily accomplished if they were making love.

“You feel even more amazing than I’d imagined.” He kissed her with the words, teasing her parted lips open even farther, mating his tongue with hers until he felt her muscles relax. Only then did he begin to circle his hips, gently nudging his pubic bone against her clit, coaxing another rush of wet heat from her core.

“You too. Unbelievable.” Gelsey moaned into his mouth as she caught his rhythm, grinding against him, her circles gradually growing larger until the base of his cock slid in and out of her pussy, intensifying the aching in his balls. He was seconds away from shooting himself inside her despite the monsters still shrieking above their heads, despite the fact he hadn’t come this quickly since he was a junior witch not old enough to vote at coven meeting.

He had to slow down, to make sure she found her pleasure first.

“What do you like, ah chumman?”

“Everything, anything,” she panted, beginning to ride him in earnest, sheathing him inside her again and again.

Well, that was incredibly unhelpful, and now he was even closer to losing control, his cock practically screaming with the need to fill her with his seed. Anything? Everything? What exactly did she mean?

Exactly what she said, man, now give it to her!

Gelsey’s breath came even faster as Stephen’s hands found her breasts once more, teasing and tugging on the erect tips before he took one turgid point into his mouth. He drew deep, pulling until he pinned her nipple to the roof of his mouth where he toyed with his captive with the tip of his tongue.

“God, Stephen,” Gelsey cried out, fisting her hands in his hair as she arched her back, giving him even freer access to her sinfully soft skin. Stephen licked and sucked, tormenting first one nipple and then the other until Gelsey’s rhythm became wild, frantic. Her eyes squeezed shut and her muscles grew tighter, trembling with the prelude to her release. Stephen took the opportunity to reverse their positions, rolling on top of her and immediately resuming his thrusting between her legs.

“Just Stephen, that is the only name you will scream when you come.” Stephen urged Gelsey’s legs around his waist and dropped a hand down between them, smoothing some of her moisture back to the tightly puckered ring of her ass. He pushed first one finger and then two inside, mimicking the rhythm he’d set with his cock inside her pussy, riding her, fucking her with fingers and cock, faster and faster, until his own control was stretched to the breaking point.

She’d said anything, now he could only hope she’d meant it. Otherwise, what he’d hoped would drive her over the edge might just have the opposite effect. But she looked as if she was enjoying the way he touched her, her breath panting in and out of her slightly open mouth, the tip of her tongue darting out to dampen her lips before she arched into him and—

“Stephen, oh, fuck…Stephen!” Her pussy clamped down around him seconds later, her inner walls milking his cock, bringing the tension building low in his body to the critical point.

“Gelsey, my love.” Stephen forced his eyes to stay open as his orgasm hit him, cum pulsing from his body in fierce waves. The pleasure was nearly painful in its intensity, squeezing every last drop of fluid from his balls.

But no matter that this was by far the best sex of his life, he had to stay focused, had to summon the familiars. The death riders had grown silent, which could only mean they must have made contact with their master. A witch of the Minos coven would be upon them any minute. If the familiars’ magic had not intertwined with her own, if they had not solidified the mark, Gelsey could still be taken by the dark ones.

“Over my dead body,” Stephen growled, reaching out, calling to the familiars on the metaphysical plane with every last ounce of his magic.

No one would take his wife, not now, not when he was certain of the love she felt for him, and of the love he felt for her. Gelsey was his, forever, and no cult of evil would ever possess her. The familiars would come, they had to come, had to see the amazing untapped potential in the little witch who was only now opening her bright green eyes, looking a little dizzy with pleasure.

“Yes!” He shouted in triumph as threads of green and gold light traced through the edges of Gelsey’s aura.

The dragons, longtime familiars of the Sambucus coven, had arrived. Now Stephen only had to wrap Gelsey’s magic around those strands of gold and green and she would be safe. Or as safe as he could make her, considering they would still have to do battle with a black witch. The protective circle would not hold against Minos magic. They would have ten, maybe fifteen minutes once the attack on their sanctuary began. He had to be ready to make every minute count.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” she said with a husky laugh, “but what—”

He began to chant the ancient words, the spell of binding and commitment, of sacrifice for the coven and allegiance to the magic of the gray. His hands played over Gelsey’s body, retracing the symbols on her chest until they glowed a deep rose in the fading light.

“Stephen?” she asked, eyes worried though her lips parted in a gasp of arousal as his fingers teased across the tips of her breasts. “What is—”

“Nothing, my love, nothing.” Stephen silenced her with a kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, tasting and teasing, ignoring the surge of arousal that threatened to make his cock rise from between his legs, no matter that he’d come less than a few minutes past. Gelsey did things to him, amazing, carnally wonderful things that would unfortunately have to wait to be explored more thoroughly at a later date.

“Wait,” she said, pulling away from their kiss, the rosy glow fading away as her natural defenses engaged. Damn it! He would have to find a way to distract her, to make her aura vulnerable to him once more. “Talk to me, Stephen, I—”

“I’d rather taste you if that would be amenable to you, love,” he said, hoping he had time to bring her to the edge again. He spread her legs with firm hands at the back of her knees, getting his first glimpse of what had to be the most gorgeous, perfect pussy on the Goddess’s green earth. The lips of her sex were the palest peach, surrounded by tight auburn curls just a shade darker than those on her head.

“But we just—I mean—I don’t really feel—”

“Tersus.” Just a single utterance of the cleansing rune caused a swift wind to sweep over them both. In seconds they were cleaner than freshly washed babes. That should assuage any concerns she might have about him tasting her after they had just made love. Stephen spread the petals of her sex with his hand and lowered his mouth.

He was inches away from discovering the flavor of his new bride when her hand fisted in his hair, tugging him back several inches. “Stephen, what the hell is going on? Those…things are still up there! This isn’t the time for oral sex.” She blushed, a bright red that made him grin no matter the danger they were in. “I never thought I’d utter those words in my life, but it’s getting darker and—”

“I would explain everything, Gelsey, but there isn’t time.” His grin dropped away as he realized the dire truth of his words. “This is necessary, highly necessary.”

“Kissing me…there is highly necessary?”

“Highly.”

“I think I love you.”

He grinned and lowered his face, just a few inches closer. She allowed it, her hand loosening its grip in his hair. “I know I love you.”

Gelsey’s eyes widened, what looked like the beginnings of tears making them shine. “You’re serious. You’re really serious.”

“As the grave,” he confirmed, those words reminding him how little time there was to waste. He needed Gelsey’s defenses down once more so that he could bind the magic of the familiars to her aura, making her Sambucus coven for the rest of her life.

For the rest of their lives.

Stephen pressed a soft kiss to the inside of Gelsey’s thigh and then turned his entire attention to the slick pussy inches away from his mouth. His first taste of her salty heat made him moan. She tasted even better than he had imagined, hot aroused female and something sweeter that was all Gelsey. His cock surged between his legs and he couldn’t help but drive his stiff tongue into her core, once, twice, coating it with her addictive nectar.

Only then did he pull away, teasing through every shining fold of her pussy with his tongue, gradually increasing his pressure until Gelsey moaned and arched toward him, her body begging for more. With a groan, he moved his tongue to the delicate bud of her clit, flicking across it again and again, kissing and sucking, building his own desire until he wanted nothing more than to move over Gelsey and drive between her legs, sheathing his aching cock in her slick heat once more.

But this wasn’t about his satisfaction. The magic had already been summoned, he simply needed Gelsey relaxed and willing to take it.

“Come for me, Gelsey, I want to taste you when you come,” he murmured against her slick flesh before driving his tongue into her core once more.

“Stephen,” she whispered, her voice strained.

Gelsey’s hands fisted in the blanket beneath her and her legs churned restlessly on either side of him. She was close—he could feel it in the way her aura vibrated against his, full of sexual energy—but not quite close enough. He had to intensify her pleasure, bring her to completion before they were discovered.

He spread her legs a little wider with a nudge of his arms and slid two eager fingers into her pussy, jaw clenching as he felt how hot she was, hot and tight around the digits he drove in and out of her molten core. His cock twitched against his stomach, protesting being left out of the fun, but Stephen ignored the arousal fisting low in his body, slowly driving him insane. Instead, he moved his attention back to Gelsey’s clit, suckling the nub into his mouth as his fingers fucked her harder, deeper. Her hips arched toward him, every muscle strung tight. Stephen took the opportunity to rake his teeth over her clit, sending her over the edge.

“Yes, god, yes!” She screamed as her pussy contracted around his fingers, coating him in her arousal.

Immediately, Stephen visualized twining the rose of Gelsey’s aura with the green and gold of the familiars’ energy, braiding the two, plaiting them so tightly together they would never again be twain. He had just finished with the last of the strands and was pulling away from the addictive taste of Gelsey’s pussy when the graying light of dusk was suddenly plunged into the black of full night.

Their enemy had arrived. Stephen leapt to his feet.

“I will break the circle, Joseph, then you must destroy them. There will be no mercy this night for the wretches of the gray.”

Correction, their enemies had arrived. The woman who had spoken was not one he recognized, but the name Joseph was familiar enough. He was the Minos coven’s executioner, a man with a thirst for blood that even the black witches considered excessive. His magic was not as strong as some, but his penchant for violence made him a more than worthy adversary. Stephen reached out with his mind, searching once more for Warren, but was met with nothing but mental silence.

He and Gelsey were on their own.

Chapter Four

“Glinda?” Gelsey asked as she scrambled to her feet beside Stephen, doing her best to cover her nudity with strategically placed arms. She was still dizzy from the effects of the two best orgasms of her life and almost certain she was seeing things, but the woman with the blue fire pouring from her hands looked a hell of a lot like the costume designer she had replaced a little over a month ago.

“Glinda?” she asked again when the woman ignored her, apparently too fixated on whatever she was doing to the red line around their blanket to speak when spoken to.

“You know this woman?” Stephen asked.

“She was the first costume designer. The one who left Dorothy behind when she was fired,” Gelsey said, the part of her that was still thinking clearly remembering Stephen had seemed interested in the cat before he had pounced her with a skill and enthusiasm unlike anything she had ever known.

And said he loved her, mustn’t forget that little bombshell. Even now, facing what she suspected were two of the very bad guys she’d always feared, she wanted to turn to Stephen and ask him to say the words again, to look at her with those eyes that made her believe every word was true.

“Damn it, I should have suspected Fellows wasn’t working alone.”

“Fellows…you mean, there is a real Mackenzie Fellows?”

“There was,” Stephen said as he bent to pick up the bowl of red paste from the ground.

Was? As in…he was now dead? As in, maybe Stephen was the one who had killed him? Something in his voice made Gelsey certain Stephen had at least been present when Mackenzie met his end. Shit! Maybe Stephen really was a serial killer, maybe he was one of the bad guys, not the two people in front of them.

Okay, maybe not. The Joseph guy looked ready to rip out her throat as soon as he got across the red line and Glinda certainly wasn’t going to win any awards for congeniality. She’d demanded their destruction and was giving Gelsey the deep freeze, the witch.

Witch, she really was a witch, and so was Stephen, and…

“And so am I,” Gelsey muttered, her skin growing cold as the enormity of the past hour and a half pressed down upon her. She was a witch and Stephen knew about her power and he’d done something to her, something even more magical than fabulous sex. Somehow he’d taken away the fear, the slick voice of the demon in her head that had tempted her to the darkness for longer than she could remember.

But how? She remembered something, some ceremonial words and being asked a question she thought she’d said “yes” to, but the details were fuzzy.

“Here, spread the achiote on your palms. It helps protect against burns, in case your magic emerges with more strength than you anticipate.”

“In case my—”

“We’re going to have to fight them, there’s no other way.” Stephen threw the bowl to the ground and assumed a battle stance next to her on the blanket as Glinda’s attack on their safe little circle intensified. “We’ll do our best to overpower them with magic first, but if that doesn’t—”

“What do you mean overpower them with magic?” Gelsey rubbed the red paste onto her trembling hands. Great, just when she’d thought her heart couldn’t beat any faster. “I don’t know how to make my magic work, I wasn’t even sure I had any until—”

“Just focus on one intention, say, leveling Glinda there, while you hold your palms out in front of you.” Stephen tossed his hair out of his eyes, shooting her a slightly frustrated look that reminded her of his signature glare. “It isn’t that difficult really, just make sure—”

“Not that difficult?” she asked with a glare of her own. “Are you on crack? I have no idea—”

“Just make sure you don’t lose focus and—”

“I don’t have focus!” Gelsey yelled. “How can I lose—”

“Are you ever going to let me finish a Goddess-damned sentence?”

“I don’t know, are you ever going to let me finish one?”

“I just did.” He smiled, the bastard. “Now focus, darling. I’d really love to take you home and make love to you all night and that’s not going to happen if we’re dead.”

Gelsey was still trying to figure out a witty comeback to that when a loud popping sound suddenly split through the night. The air around them crackled with static electricity as Glinda and Joseph crossed over the boundary of the circle. Gelsey had about two seconds to prepare before Glinda ran at her with obviously wicked intent.

“Shit!” Gelsey screamed and lifted her hands, doing her best to focus on all kinds of ass-whooping for old Glinda, though at the moment she would much rather be kicking the tail of the man who had thrown her in the middle of this mess.

If they lived through the night, Stephen was going to have some explaining to do. A lot of explaining to do.

“You will die now, fool, for choosing the gray over the black.” Glinda fired off a round of blue fire in her direction while Joseph tackled Stephen to the ground.

Gelsey screamed, but thankfully her terror didn’t interfere with her magic. Dark pink fire surged from her hands, crashing into the blue and stopping it dead. Then slowly, as her concentration grew, her fire forced the flames back into Glinda’s hands. The witch fell to the ground with a wail of agony that only subsided when Gelsey sucked in a deep breath and fisted her hands at her sides, cutting off the flow of pink light.

Gelsey was sure she looked as shocked as the woman cringing on the ground before her, but did her best to play it off, turning her attention to a third enemy stepping from the shadows. She’d take care of this one and then help Stephen. He seemed to be handling himself, but he hadn’t won the battle yet. Just the idea that he might not be able to handle the larger, much scarier-looking Joseph by himself was enough to make Gelsey’s power throb inside her, anxious to take down this new threat. She couldn’t let anything happen to Stephen, not when she hadn’t even told him how she really felt, that she loved him too, no matter how insane that made them both.

She was lifting her hands when the new man fell to his knee at the edge of what remained of the line of red sand. “I’m a friend! My name is Warren. I’m here to help.”

“Is he a friend, Stephen?” Gelsey yelled over at Stephen, not opening her palms, but not dropping her hands either.

“Yes…damn it.” Stephen grunted as Joseph’s magic connected with his gut and sent him flying across the glen, landing with a groan at the base of one of the trees. “Took you long enough, Warren.”

“I don’t know, Stephen, your new bride seems to be doing a fine job of controlling the situation.” Warren laughed as he sent golden flame surging around Joseph. Stephen’s power joined his a moment later and it wasn’t long before Joseph fell to the ground with a moan, his eyes sliding closed as he lost consciousness.

Bride? Had the man really just said bride?

“My new bride is completely untrained.”

There is was, that word again. What the hell were they talking about?

“You’re lucky she didn’t kill you just now,” Stephen continued as he crossed to Glinda and hauled her roughly to her feet. “Go tell Cronos what you have seen here tonight and let him know the war is now over.” Glinda shot Gelsey one last frightened look and then scrambled to her feet and limped off into the darkness.

“What should I do with this one?” Warren asked, gesturing toward the unconscious Joseph. “Kill him?”

“It would probably be best. He’s a savage and not—”

“You are not going to kill that man,” Gelsey said, finally recovering her ability to speak. “And I am not your—your wife.”

“He would have gladly killed both you and I and any other Sambucus he could get his hands on,” Stephen said, turning his attention—and signature glare—in her direction. “And you are my wife, as agreed by the both of us.”

“What? I never agreed to—”

“I asked you the ceremonial questions and you answered, and I quote, ‘God, yes’,” Stephen said, his expression even more stormy. “You are my wife, Gelsey, I will have no argument on that point. The handfast was accomplished and the familiars of our coven have given their blessing. We are joined now, for the rest of our—”

Gelsey didn’t wait around to hear what else the madman who was her alleged husband might have to say, simply grabbed her skirt and tank top from the ground and turned and ran into the night, back toward the lights of civilization. She would get back to her simple rooms, lock the door behind her and pretend none of this had ever happened. That she’d never made love to the man of her dreams, that she’d never discovered the truth about her power and that she’d never thought—even for an instant—that she might have truly found the partner she’d been waiting for her entire life.

Stephen was a liar and a manipulator and probably a murderer and god knows what else. She would be better off without him. She believed that, despite the hot tears that began to stream down her face and the ache that settled deep in her heart.

* * * * *

The rest of the weekend passed with wretched normalcy, except, of course, that Dorothy didn’t come home meowing for her food, proving herself a traitor. Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful. The Cowardly Lion stopped by to ask Gelsey if she wanted to come to brunch with him and the Scarecrow and one of the techie guys, but she refused. She wasn’t sure she was capable of Sunday brunch chitchat. And a part of her was waiting for the Tin Man to show up at her door to try to claim her as his wife and drag her off to his cave by her hair.

Or perhaps, in her more optimistic imaginings, offer to explain himself.

But the morning turned to afternoon and dinner came and went without a sign of her “husband”. If it weren’t for the rosy light she found she could still shoot from her palms with relative ease, Gelsey would have thought she had dreamed the evening before. Surely the way he’d made her feel was the stuff of dreams, fantasies she should have known could never be fulfilled.

She went to bed Sunday night with a horrible stomachache and woke up Monday dreading the final fittings for the last dress rehearsal. How could she be expected to function as normal when she felt like a completely different person? For the first time in her life, she had been able to sleep without the dark power invading her dreams. But instead of the blessing she’d always thought that would be, she simply felt…strange.

Who was she now? What did this new magic mean and how should she use it? Was she finally safe from the witches she now knew had been stalking her for years or was this the lull before the storm?

She had no answers, another thing to thank Stephen for.

“Just a minute,” Gelsey grumbled, tipping back her coffee and guzzling half the hot liquid down her throat. Her first appointment was early. Fabulous.

Well, they would be in for a surprise this morning. Their good-natured costume mistress was gone, replaced by a grumpy, miserable person who would probably end up sticking them with even more pins than usual.

“I’m coming!” Gelsey made no effort to keep the irritation out of her voice as the impatient knocking at the costume shop entrance came again. She crossed the room with three swift steps and flung open the door.

“No, you aren’t coming yet, but I hope to remedy that problem in the very near future.” Stephen stood in the hall, dressed in dark blue jeans and faded red t-shirt. His long hair was hanging loose around his shoulders and his dark eyes shone with the same sensual wickedness they had two nights past. The man looked good enough to eat.

Too bad she’d already had breakfast and was pretty sure she hated his guts.

“That’s sexual harassment.” She slammed the door in his face, but his hand shot out, keeping it from closing completely.

“I’m sorry, please, I—”

“Get out,” she said, motioning to the exit with one imperious finger as Stephen pushed his way inside.

“Please, Gelsey, I’m sorry.” His confident expression had vanished, replaced by what looked like genuine anguish. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I’m just— I’m no good at these things.”

“Get out. Now.” Gelsey willed herself not to soften. He’d made her wait, made her assume she’d been abandoned to figure the whole magic thing out on her own. He deserved a taste of his own medicine.

“We didn’t kill Joseph, we sent him home.”

“Good for you. Now get out.”

“I talked with the coven elders and arranged to stay the rest of the week to finish out the run of the show,” he said, voice slightly desperate. “I knew you wouldn’t want me to leave the rest of the cast in the lurch.”

“That was responsible of you,” she said, her tone civil but nothing more.

“And I…brought flowers.” He pulled at least two dozen deep, reddish-orange roses from behind his back. They were gorgeous, an unusual color she’d never seen, but immediately loved. “I had them flown in from California. They…reminded me of your hair.”

He looked so helpless, so worried, that Gelsey found her hand reaching for the roses without her conscious permission. “Thank you. They’re…lovely.” She spun toward the sink, fetching one of the vases the theatre kept handy, more to have something to do than any real driving need to get the flowers in water.

Stephen was here, with flowers, apologies and a hangdog expression. Did that mean he intended to woo her properly? Did she even want to be wooed properly? He’d lied to her, tricked her into some magical bonding business that sounded a whole lot like marriage and then taken his own sweet time coming to kiss and make up.

Kiss and make up, god, did she want to kiss and make up. No matter how angry and confused she still was, just the brush of his fingers against hers as he’d handed her the flowers made her skin tingle with awareness. Was her anger and frustration really worth losing the only man who had ever brought her body and heart to life the way Stephen had? Didn’t he at least deserve the chance to explain?

Gelsey shoved the flowers into the vase and turned to him, hands on her hips and what she hoped was a stern expression on her face. “All right, you have ten minutes. Start talking.”

And talk he did, telling her of the Sambucus coven and his mission to protect her from being claimed by a black magic coven with the handfasting ritual. Stephen told her he had been searching for her for nearly three years, ever since the first man assigned to her case had been killed by the Minos witches. He told her of his excitement once he’d finally found her, his joy when he realized that not only would they be an excellent magical match as foretold by the coven elders, but that he sensed they could be a love match as well.

“If you thought you were…falling in love with me,” Gelsey said, forcing the awkward words from her mouth, “then why did you act like you couldn’t stand me half the time?”

“I’m obviously an asshole.”

“Obviously.” Gelsey grinned despite herself.

Stephen smiled back and stepped a little closer. “And I was worried for your safety. There were numerous attacks during my first few weeks here and the damned cat seemed to be following you everywhere. I was sure you were being corrupted by black magic and it drove me insane, seeing it happen and not being able to step in and help you until the timing was right.”

“Until the time was right for this handfasting ritual?” He’d mentioned something about a Midsummer Rite, and giving her the mark of their coven, but she was only now starting to understand. “This magical ceremony that binds our auras together, forever?”

“For life,” he confirmed, looking sheepish. “It was the only way to protect you and I thought…well, I hoped that…”

“You hoped what?”

“I hoped you would be happy to be fasted with me. I adored you and you seemed to at least feel the same attraction and—” He cursed, and ran a frustrated hand through his thick hair. “I was a fool. I talked with Warren and several others and they all agree I was a bastard to continue the fasting ceremony without making damned sure you understood what was involved.”

“Yes, you were.” Gelsey moved closer, her heart thrilling to every word, no matter what common sense might have to say about it.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that,” he said, his jaw tightening and his voice growing firm. “But I am not sorry that you are alive and my wife, and not slave to the black magic of the Minos. Binding you to me was the only way I knew to protect you and I’m not sorry for—”

“Oh hell, I’m not sorry either.” Gelsey closed the last of the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Stephen’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Screw common sense. She had the answer to her every fantasy in her arms and she wasn’t about to let him go.

Stephen moaned against her lips as his strong arms locked around her, hauling her into the air, pressing her tightly against him. Her breasts molded to the muscled planes of his chest and her legs parted of their own accord, locking behind his hips.

“I love you, ah chumman, you won’t be sorry. I swear it to you,” Stephen whispered against her lips as he pressed her back into the wall behind them.

“I love you too,” Gelsey said, cupping his face in her hands and looking deep into his eyes, making certain he heard the truth behind every word.

“And I love these skirts you wear.” He bunched her peasant skirt up around her hips as he spoke, baring her tiny black panties. No matter how angry she’d been, a part of Gelsey had obviously been hoping something like this would happen when she’d dug the silky scrap of fabric from the back of her drawer.

“I thought you found them ridicu—” She gasped as he moved his hand between them and slid fingers in to tease in and out of where she was already wet and ready.

“I was feeling a bit shy that day, if you can believe it. Apparently it brings out the asshole in me.” Stephen took her lips again, tongue tangling with hers as his fingers thrust slowly into her aching channel. God, she was already dying to feel him inside her. Just a single touch from this man, her husband, was equivalent to hours of foreplay from any other lover she’d known.

Gelsey reached for the close of his jeans, tearing at the buttons along his fly. “So you were pulling my pigtails?”

“Something like—Goddess, Gelsey.” He moaned as she reached into his boxers and found his aroused length. He was so hot and hard, but the skin covering his cock was one of the softest things she’d ever felt. She let her fingers play up and down, tracing the ridge where head became shaft, smoothing the pearl of pre-cum at his tip around and around.

“You’ve got to stop,” Stephen said as his hand found its way up her shirt and tugged her bra down, freeing her breast to his touch.

“I don’t want to stop.” Gelsey sighed in pleasure, arching into the fingers that plucked at her nipple.

“Want it or not, you had best stop unless you are ready to be fucked, wife.”

“I’m past ready, husband.” Gelsey smiled against Stephen’s lips as his laugh became a groan. Seconds later, her panties had mysteriously vanished and his cock was positioned at her entry and shoving inside, filling every inch of her, stretching her inner walls, driving into her pussy until he reached the end of her and then pushing just the slightest bit deeper.

“You feel—”

“Perfect,” Gelsey finished, clinging to his shoulders, wrapping her legs more tightly around him and pulling him even closer.

Stephen kissed her, softly, sweetly. “Better than perfect, my love.”

Gelsey deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue past his teeth, tasting again the unique, intoxicating flavor of her husband, knowing she couldn’t speak or the emotion surging in her heart would find its way out of her eyes. And the last thing she wanted to do was cry, not now, not when she was as happy as she could remember being in her life.

She wouldn’t have thought she could get any happier, in fact, but then her husband began to move his thick cock in and out of her pussy, fucking her with a slow sensual rhythm that had her near the edge far too quickly. Gelsey tried to hold back, to postpone her release, but he felt entirely too perfect. The cock that seemed to have been made for her pleasure drove deep into her core, ending with a swivel of his hips that had her clit sounding his praises.

Seconds later, she screamed his name, digging her fingers into the strong muscles of his backs as waves of pure bliss swept out from her womb to every inch of her body, tightening the tips of her breasts, making her dizzy with pleasure. Stephen’s own rhythm grew faster, deeper, frantic. The sounds of aroused flesh meeting aroused flesh filled the room, underscored by Gelsey’s soft cries as the tension low in her body began to build once more and Stephen’s labored breath as he neared the edge.

“I want you to come again. Come with me, Gelsey.” Stephen’s command was followed by a blunt finger pressing into her ass, fucking her there in the same way he’d done the first time they were together. The sensation was just as amazing the second time around, the feeling of being so full, so perfectly and completely filled with Stephen sending her spiraling into bliss once more.

Stephen cried out a second later, spilling himself deep inside her with pulses of his cock that seemed to prolong her own orgasm, so that she was still trembling with the force of her release when the knock came at the door.

“Ms. Carland, I don’t know who it is you have in there, but the man’s identity is immaterial.” It was Cora, her voice cold enough to coat hell in a layer of ice. “You will pack your things and be gone by the end of the day.”

“Yes, ma’am, sorry,” Gelsey said, giggling, knowing she should be embarrassed at being discovered, but too high on endorphins to care.

“You’ll also be losing a Tin Man, Cora. I’ll be taking Gelsey home to Ireland tonight.”

“Mr. Fellows? I— Dear me, I…” Cora cleared her throat, then continued with a dignified sniff. “Very well, then, I will go alert your understudy.”

Gelsey giggled again as Stephen mimicked the older woman’s facial expressions to a tee. “You really are an excellent actor, you know.”

“True. Our calling to witchcraft will be a great loss to the world of theatre.”

“Hardly. I think I’m the worst costume mistress the company has ever seen.”

“But you’re an excellent witch, strong enough to beat a high priestess of the black coven without a day of training.” Stephen kissed her, then began to nibble down her throat as he tugged at the bottom of her shirt.

“You can’t be serious. We just got in trouble, we can’t—”

“The door is locked, is it not?” Her shirt came off and her skirt was pushed down to pool around her feet.

“Yes, but…” Gelsey’s protest died as Stephen stripped, revealing every inch of her gorgeous husband’s chiseled body.

“Then, my dearest wife, I think we can.” He pulled her close, his cock already recovered sufficiently to thicken against her stomach. “More so, I think we must.”

“Making love to me again is highly necessary?”

“Highly.” Stephen smiled as he pulled her to the carpet.

Gelsey laughed, finding she had no choice but to surrender.

The Debutante

Samantha Kane

Chapter One

Dominic, Viscount Lethbridge, eased out the open door of the ballroom onto a terrace that was almost as crowded as the dance floor. He vowed, again, that this was the last time his mother would talk him into attending one of these god-awful marriage-market affairs. The unattached females and their predatory mamas made this quite possibly the most dangerous place in England for an eligible, titled male. He looked around for Jeremy Benford, his best friend since their school days and a frequent partner in Dom’s sexual misadventures. Knowing Benford, he’d managed to escape out here at least half an hour ago, with a toothsome widow no doubt.

Several young ladies grouped together at one end of the terrace turned in his direction with gleaming eyes and bashful snickers and Dom made a hasty retreat down the stairs into the garden, taking the first path he saw into the shrubbery. Thank God Merwell had a forest of trees back here to hide in. He’d look for Benford from there.

Once in the trees Dom searched the visible terrace for his friend to no avail. The trees followed the line of the house, and Dom rounded the corner to the side of the building. There were several lamps burning there, and another door from the ballroom. As Dom watched, a small figure furtively snuck out the door and then leaned back against the wall. It was a woman, a girl actually from the look of her plain white gown, one of the debutantes. Was she meeting someone? A young man, perhaps, for an assignation? Dom smiled in anticipation. He liked watching almost as much as participating.

Suddenly the figure stood away from the wall in alarm, the tense lines of her body telling Dom something was wrong. It was then the voices carried to him. Someone was coming. In the blink of an eye the girl ran from the house into the trees, several yards away from Dom.

He stood perfectly still, not wanting to reveal himself. His reputation was such that a virginal young lady of quality would probably swoon to find herself alone in the woods with him. He could see her more clearly now, and wondered if her white dress would give her away to the small group of young men spilling out the door.

She was pretty in an unconventional way. A little plump with large breasts, not at all the fashion, but Dom liked it on her. She looked as if she’d be a soft, pleasant ride. She’d seemed smaller when she came out the door, but on closer inspection she came to his shoulder at least. Her hair looked dark in the shadows of the trees, absorbing the wan moonlight that filtered through the leaves and reflecting it back as a shimmering gleam. That gleam intrigued him. What color was it? He liked brunettes, liked to see their long dark hair spread across the bed as he fucked hard into them, the contrast of dark hair and white sheets arousing.

He surprised himself with the thought. He never fantasized about these virginal little debutantes. It was an exercise in futility. They were too well guarded, and more often than not too ignorant of men to satisfy his fantasies. So why this one? She had intrigued him the moment she snuck out the door. He could barely discern her features in the dark, and yet he found his cock hard imagining fucking her in a room lit by moonlight, that same gleam in her hair as it streamed across his bed.

The girl quietly turned so her back was against the tree and Dom saw her bite her fist, as if she were holding something back. Words? Tears? He realized it was a reaction to what the young bucks were saying. He turned eyes narrowed with displeasure on the group and began to listen to their inebriated chatter.

“The Welliston chit? Good God, man, that would be like fucking a little piglet!” The comment was followed by raucous laughter all around.

“A fucking piglet stuffed with money,” another voice drawled, eliciting more laughter. “She can squeal for me if it means paying off the duns.”

“Did you see that horrendous dress? So plain.” Disgust laced the comment, and Dom saw the dandified little bastard who’d spoken fluff the overwhelming waterfall of his cravat.

“Again, style means nothing. She may wear whatever she likes in the country as she oversees my estate while I’m in London.” The same voice drawled again, clearly indicating to his fellows his interest in the girl, or her money anyway.

“But to fuck her? Really, Chauncey, could you? I might actually find myself unable to perform for the first time in my life. She tried to talk to me of books! Can you countenance it? And that nose.” Dom could almost see the boy shiver in horror.

The one named Chauncey laughed. “One cunt is as good as another in the dark, gentlemen. And as a wife, she’d expect no more than a poke once a month until she is with child. I daresay the faster I get on with it the happier we shall both be. Then I shall go my way and leave her to go hers.”

Their voices faded as they moved in the door. Dom turned again to watch the girl. He was on the verge of going to her, to comfort her he knew not how, when she straightened from the tree. He watched as she smoothed her hair in its simple chignon, and then smoothed her skirts with the same motion. He could actually see her shoulders move as her back stiffened. It was as if she prepared for battle. When she turned to go back inside he finally saw her face. Finely arched brows, tilted eyes, a long nose curiously flat, and perhaps crooked? She held her lower lip between her teeth, drawing his eyes to her large mouth and full lips. She was exceptional. There was nothing ordinary about her, and as he watched her walk stiff-legged back into the ballroom, her face composed, he wanted her as he had not wanted anyone for a very long time.

* * * * *

The next day in Dom’s study, Jeremy Benford stared at Dom as if he’d lost his mind. “Are you mad? You must be mad.”

Before he could answer Ben, the other man spoke again. “Do you know anything else beside the fact that she’s a virgin?”

Dom thought for a moment. “Actually, I don’t know that. I’m assuming she’s a virgin because she was wearing the white uniform of a debutante.” Ben snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. “But I think her family name is Welliston. That is, if that group of pups was talking about her. And I think they were. So there you are.”

Ben fell back onto a chaise, his head dramatically held in his hands. “Good lord, Dom, a debutante! Are you mad?”

“You’ve already asked me that, Benford. No, I am not mad. She’s going to be good, I’m sure of it.”

Dom watched his best friend open his eyes and look at him incredulously. Ben was beautiful, everyone said so. He was tall, muscular, with hair the color of old guineas and eyes the blue of the sea, or at least that’s what Dom had heard someone say once. It sounded better than blond and blue. What made Ben so attractive to Dom, however, was his appetite for life. Dom tended to be rather dour and cautious when left to his own devices. Ben wouldn’t allow it. Ben also shared women with him on a regular basis. The two men had very similar sexual tastes, and Dom had no intention of giving him up, or the pastimes they enjoyed together. That was why he was determined to enlist Ben’s aid in finding the exceptional Miss Welliston.

“Describe her again.” Ben closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“She was about as tall as my shoulder, with dark hair, and she was voluptuous, with lush breasts. She had a fine pair of eyes, tilted up at the corners, and I think her nose has been broken at some point. Also, she had the mouth of a siren, large, with full lips.”

“And her name might be Welliston.” Ben sounded wearily resigned.

“Yes.” Dom got up from where he’d been leaning against the desk and walked over to sit next to Ben. He threw an arm companionably around the other man’s shoulder. “I’m no good at descriptions, Ben, you know that. The sky is blue, the grass is green, music is loud, and sugar is sweet. But when you see her, you’ll understand. She’s no ordinary debutante. I want her, Ben. And I want you to want her too.”

Ben just looked at him dubiously.

* * * * *

A week after the Merwell’s ball, Clarissa Welliston sat down next to her mother with an inward sigh. She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to sit here long. Either her mother or her best friend Minda would make her get up and parade around, as if one of the so-called gentlemen here would suddenly see the light and decide she was more interesting than her money or her breasts. She hadn’t had a conversation with a man who looked higher than her chest in over three weeks. The whole affair wearied her. Just last week at the Earl and Countess of Merwell’s she’d stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and overheard several young gentlemen discussing her in less than favorable terms. A piglet stuffed with money they’d called her, the little dandified jackanapes. She’d had to bite her fist in her hiding place to keep from storming up to them and telling them in no uncertain terms that they would never have a chance at either her money or her person.

Not that Clari didn’t want a man. She was desperate for a man. Experimenting by herself was all well and good, but she wanted a fine, strong cock between her legs, the real thing. Too bad marriage had to come with it. Glancing around the ballroom, Clari wasn’t even sure there was a fine, strong cock here this evening. At least at Merwell’s there had been several gentlemen present who were pleasant to look at and who appeared to have the necessary parts and knew what to do with them. Tonight at the Smythe musicale there was a definite lack of male pulchritude.

Lost in her thoughts, it took Clari a moment to realize she was looking down at a pair of highly polished men’s shoes planted directly in front of her. They were attached to a long pair of legs, and Clari’s eyes traveled up every inch of their heavily muscled length, stopping for only one forbidden moment on the promising bulge in the front of his trousers. Her gaze passed over slim hips and broad shoulders until she finally looked into the extremely handsome face of the man standing expectantly before her. He was extraordinary. He looked a little foreign with his olive skin and dark brown eyes, and his black hair was left a little long to sweep over his broad forehead. His nose was long and strong, quite Roman actually, like some of the pieces in the museum. His lips were thin but finely sculpted, with a deep dimple at the bow. She could see a shadow of a beard on his face though it was early in the evening. His overt masculinity made a shiver chase up Clari’s spine. At the subtle movement, his mouth quirked knowingly and Clari’s eyes snapped to his in mortification. The gleam there confirmed her fears—he knew she was attracted to him, and he found it amusing.

A sharp female voice spoke, and Clari started with surprise. She hadn’t even noticed their hostess beside him.

“My dear Miss Welliston, Viscount Lethbridge has requested an introduction. How thrilling for you, I’m sure!” Mrs. Smythe trilled. Clari gritted her teeth. It didn’t take an exceptionally sharp intellect to intuit what Mrs. Smythe wasn’t saying—that Clari should be grateful any man was interested in her enough to ask for an introduction, much less this man. Clari had heard the other girls speak of him, of his looks and his wealth and his eligibility. They had also whispered about his shocking sexual excesses.

“Miss Welliston,” Viscount Lethbridge said, his deep voice causing things low in Clari’s stomach to tighten in excitement.

“My lord,” she responded politely, holding out her hand. He took it, and even through her glove and his she could feel the heat of the embrace. Her hand shook slightly, but he didn’t release it. He slowly bent over and kissed her wrist—kissed it, not just a polite bow, but an actual pressing of his lips against her. The tremors deep within her intensified. As he rose from his bow his eyes caught hers and the look simmered with hunger. Clari was shocked, titillated and bemused. What on earth? Surely he wasn’t interested in her?

“Miss Welliston, would you care to take a turn about the room with me?” the viscount asked, his demeanor pleasant while at the same time quite determined. He looked deferentially at Clari’s mother beside her.

“Oh yes, Clari dear, do go on with the viscount,” her mother quickly urged, a hand on her arm shoving her up. The avaricious delight on her face made Clari inwardly cringe.

“Of course, my lord,” Clari said more forcefully than necessary as she yanked her arm from her mother’s grip, “I’d be delighted.” She glared at her mother before turning a composed countenance to the viscount, who raised a single brow, not even trying to hide his amusement. He took Clari’s hand and placed it on his arm and she nearly groaned out loud. Good God, he was firm and sleek with muscle under his evening clothes. At the thought, Clari could feel the first drop of slick cream slip out of her sex and rub along the suddenly swollen and sensitive lips there. It gave a turn about the room a new, erotic thrill it had never had before.

Viscount Lethbridge kept one hand over hers on his arm. His thumb ran seductively along the length of her fingers as they strolled to the edge of the crowd, nodding here and there to acquaintances. They didn’t speak to one another until they were walking sedately around the room’s perimeter, as far from the crowd as possible. It lent their stroll a false sense of privacy—all eyes could see them, but few ears could hear them. Clari knew their path was a deliberate one and wondered what the viscount could have to say that required this level of privacy.

“I have been searching for you, Miss Welliston, for this week past,” he began quietly, his thumb stroking, stroking over her fingers and the back of her hand until she thought she’d go mad. Instead she smiled benignly at Minda in the crowd, who was staring and gesturing wildly, clearing wanting to know what was going on.

“Have you, my lord? I can’t imagine why. I am not difficult to find.” Her heart was racing. A week. What had happened a week ago to bring her to his attention? She’d never met him before tonight, she was sure of it.

She sensed his amusement and was unable to resist the urge to glance at him. She did so out of the corner of her eye and caught him doing the same. She quickly looked away, but not before noting the approval in his gaze.

“No questions as to why?” he asked. The path of his thumb shifted so that he was outlining her fingers, spreading them apart on his arm so that he could ravish the tender, sensitive skin between them with the heat and press of his thumb. Even through the lace of her glove it was overwhelmingly sensual. Clari’s breath caught in her chest.

“Why?” she managed to ask, though her voice sounded breathless.

“I saw you at Merwell’s, there in the trees.” His statement left a great deal out, but Clari’s memory filled in the blanks. If he’d seen her he must have been close, and that meant he’d heard what the young men were saying. She felt her face flame with embarrassment.

“And you wished to find out for yourself what a piglet stuffed with money would look like?” She was proud of her even tone.

“Hardly,” he drawled. “I have no desire to lay with pork, and I am stuffed with pounds enough of my own.”

At his response Clari lost her composure. Her eyes flew to his in startled shock. “Lay with…” she gasped.

His grin was feral and frighteningly arousing. “Oh, yes, Miss Welliston. When I saw your generous form, your dark hair gleaming in the moonlight, I imagined you in my bed, that hair spread across my pillows as I ruthlessly made you mine.”

Chapter Two

“…as I ruthlessly made you mine.”

Lethbridge’s words ran through Clari’s mind yet again as she waited impatiently next to Minda several weeks later. She’d seen him often since then, at dinner parties, balls and other entertainments. Once at a rout that was terribly crowded he’d somehow managed to get her lost from her mother and he’d dragged her into a small linen closet and kissed her.

He kissed as ruthlessly as he pursued her, as ruthlessly as he promised to possess her. He hadn’t bothered with tenderness in spite of her innocence. He’d ravished her mouth with lips and teeth and tongue. His bites had left her lips swollen and red, just short of bleeding, and his tongue learned every corner of her mouth until she had no secrets left. Then he’d stolen her breath, her very thoughts, as his tongue thrust with an insistent rhythm that even inexperienced as she was, she recognized. One hand had gripped her hip while the other found her breast, shaping it firmly and rubbing his thumb over the hard, aching point of her nipple through the thin muslin of her dress. She had moaned in desperation and nearly cried with unfulfilled passion when he’d pulled away roughly and dragged her out of the closet without a word, bringing her back to her mother and departing with a bow.

He had called on her after the rout. He’d been cool and charming, introducing her to his friend Mr. Benford. Mr. Benford was another male work of art, and the two were like gorgeous bookends on the settee, one dark and dangerous, and one light and, well, dangerous. The air around them had shivered with sexual energy. Clari had done a little shivering as well, remembering Lethbridge’s kiss, longing for more, and still befuddled by the attentions of men such as they. Several times after that Lethbridge had called with Mr. Benford, or Mr. Benford had accompanied the viscount to balls or parties.

Lethbridge sent her flowers every day. Her mother was in raptures. Suddenly wherever Clari went she was in demand. The gentlemen, young and old, flocked to her side, intent on discovering just what Lethbridge saw in her. Several had made extremely inappropriate advances. When Clari rebuffed them they’d made it clear that most of the ton assumed Lethbridge had already taken her innocence. There had even been veiled references to Mr. Benford, which had taken Clari by surprise. She hardly knew the man, and he had not been pursuing her as Lethbridge had.

The viscount had sent a note that afternoon indicating he would be at the Duke of Tremont’s ball this evening. He knew she planned to attend. So now she stood here doing what she’d once sworn she’d never do—pine for the presence of a particular man. But what a man. Surely no one could fault her for her fascination. He was witty, charming, sophisticated and handsome. And the fact that he seemed equally fascinated with her made her weak in the knees, another first for her. They liked the same books, he actually listened to her opinions on politics, and she frequently caught him looking at her like a delectable dessert.

Clari’s foot began to tap impatiently as she paid no heed whatsoever to the conversation of the gentlemen surrounding her and Minda. Where could he be?

Dom entered the ballroom with a sense of excitement and expectation, which was unusual for him. For the first time in his life he looked forward to spending time with a woman out of bed. She made him laugh, and he admired her practicality and even her reformer Whig political opinions. He planned to spirit Clari away from prying eyes tonight and explain exactly what his interest in her was. With Ben’s help he was going to see if this infatuation and desire he had for her could possibly be more. But first he had to make sure she was aware of his sexual appetites. It would be unfair to enter into an arrangement that would disappoint them both.

Ben entered the ballroom at his side, and it felt right. It was only natural that Ben was here with him as he fulfilled his fantasies about the delectable Miss Welliston. His friendship was the most important thing in Dom’s life, and had been for some time. He knew that his relationship with Clari, should she accept a more intimate one with him, would supersede his and Ben’s. But he also knew that Ben would always be an integral part of any relationship he chose to pursue.

He saw her through the crowd, her presence calling to him as it had since that first night. His cock ached at the sight of her, at the knowledge of what he had planned. Dom walked toward her, making a circle around the room. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm, slowing him down. When he turned he was surprised to see it was Ben.

“Dom, a moment,” he murmured, and looking around he steered Dom towards an empty corner, behind some potted palms. The light was dim in the ballroom, and few would see or hear them there.

After pulling Dom behind a palm Ben let go of his arm and looked away, obviously gathering his thoughts. Dom felt his chest tighten in anxiety. Was Ben going to try to talk him out of this? He’d had nothing but praise for Clari after meeting her, both for her wit and intelligence and for her beauty. Like Dom, Ben was attracted to her uniqueness.

“What is it, Ben?” Dom’s voice was grave, and Ben looked up quickly.

“Oh, no, Dom, it’s nothing like that, nothing bad.” Dom breathed a sigh of relief. Ben smiled lopsidedly, a little abashed. “It’s just that I’m not sure how to say what I have to say.” He took a deep breath. “We’ve known each other a very long time, Dom. You are my best friend. You know me as no one else ever has, and I feel I can say the same of you.” He let out a shaky sigh and looked at the floor. When his eyes met Dom’s they were bright with emotion. “What I’m trying to say, and not doing a very good job of it, is thank you.”

Dom looked at Ben in surprise. Ben laughed self-consciously.

“I know what tonight means to you, Dom. The fact that you want me to be there…” He sighed again, and Dom knew he was fighting his emotions. “It means a great deal to me. I’ve seen the way you look at her, Dom. You really are in love. Part of me is jealous, of you, but the bigger part is overjoyed that you have found your match.”

Dom stepped closer. “Ben, I never said anything about love. I desire her, but that is all.”

Ben looked at him askance. “If I truly believed that, I wouldn’t be here with you, Dom. I’ve never seen you react to a woman this way before.”

Dom felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach, the truth hit him so hard. He was in love with Clari. He reflected on his thoughts when he’d entered the ballroom. He enjoyed her conversation, he’d seen her be kind when she could have been cruel, and he’d seen how she chafed under society’s strictures. He longed to wile away his days talking with her, arguing politics and freeing her from the chains that bound her to propriety. He loved her, and his desire for her now was greater than when he’d only admired her unique beauty.

Even as he thought it, his heart knew it to be true. And of course Ben had seen it before he had. “Ben, you’ll grow to love her, too—”

Ben cut him off, shaking his head. “No, Dom, no I won’t. I do like her, and in time I’m sure I shall care for her very much, but I will never love her as you do, nor will she love me as she does you.”

Dom started to argue, but stopped as Ben shook his head again. “It’s all right, Dom. I think we both knew this day would come. If she won’t accept me in your bed, don’t make that a stipulation of the marriage. She may come ‘round later, but I know you. You’ll find satisfaction with her, with or without my help.” He smiled wolfishly. “I would very much like to help, because as you know I enjoy fucking a woman with you, and the idea of fucking your wife is incredibly arousing.” Ben shrugged. “But even if I never do, we shall always be the best of friends, Dom, and I shan’t hold it against her. You shouldn’t either. Not many well-born women would accept such an arrangement, and for a virgin…” Ben shrugged again. “So try to be gentle when you tell her, and try to be understanding if her answer is no.”

Dom didn’t answer as Ben gently pushed him toward the room. They resumed walking through the crowd as Dom tried to assimilate what Ben had said. He felt like a fool. He’d always assumed that when he fell in love Ben would too. But it wasn’t as if he and Ben were lovers. They were friends who frequently shared sexual experiences, but it was the friendship and not the sex that was important to them. He wanted Ben with him and Clari as a friend. He wanted Clari as his lover. He could see the distinction now, as Ben must have. He felt that their friendship was changing, but the change was a good one, and would suit the other changes soon to occur in his life.

By the time they reached Clari, he’d come to terms with what Ben had told him, and the revelation that he loved her. The fact that he accepted it so readily told him more than anything that Ben was right. This was right. When Clari looked up into his eyes, her face open and adoring, her eyes hot with a hunger he wasn’t sure she even understood, any doubts Dom may have harbored were washed away.

Ben obviously approved of Clari’s looks tonight as well. “She’s marvelous, Dom,” he said and looked back at Clari, who was giving him a rather arch look.

“Thank you, Mr. Benford,” Clari said pertly, “but Viscount Lethbridge had very little to do with it.”

Ben laughed. “I’m sure you are correct, Miss Welliston,” he said with a bow. “My apologies for not directing the compliment to the proper source.”

Clari smiled charmingly, the slight dimple in her cheek peeking out. “Thank you again, Mr. Benford,” she said.

Ben reached out and tapped her nose. Not only was it slightly crooked, but there was a faint scar across it. “How did this happen?” he asked, flirting. “I’ve been meaning to ask.” Dom was surprised to feel a little jealousy. He’d never been jealous of Ben before.

Clari shrugged. “A riding accident when I was twelve,” she told him with a touch of chagrin. “The doctor did his best,” she waved a hand in front of her face, “but, well, this is his best.” She grinned ruefully. “You should have seen it right after it happened. Mama was in bed for a month.”

They all laughed and Dom was relieved to see that Clari was neither self-conscious nor apologetic about her broken nose. Personally he loved it. It made her Clari.

“Miss Welliston, would you care for some fresh air?” Dom asked politely, wanting her so much he couldn’t wait any longer.

Clari looked taken aback, but readily agreed. Dom exchanged a glance with Ben, who nodded, and then held out his arm and Clari placed her hand there. He felt his muscles tighten under the warm pressure of her hand, and he imagined her soft touch on his cock.

* * * * *

Clari was nervous. Viscount Lethbridge was acting very strangely tonight. No sooner had he arrived than he rushed her out the door. And they were not lazily strolling the gardens, either. He made a direct line for a dark maze in the corner, leading her into it quickly before anyone could see them.

Lethbridge hadn’t spoken since they left the ballroom, and Clari kept the silence as he maneuvered them through the maze to a corner lit only by the moonlight filtering through the leaves of a tall tree. The tree’s trunk was the link between the two hedges at the farthermost corner of the maze. There was a stone bench along one hedge. From the leaves and small bits of natural debris on the bench, not many made it this far into the maze. He dusted the bench off and gestured for Clari to sit. She did so and waited in anticipation for whatever was to come.

He stood looking at her in the moonlight for a moment and then spoke quietly. “Clari…may I call you Clari?”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s a pet name my father gave me as a child, short for Clarissa.” She grinned at him. “But I’ve never been a Clarissa.” She rubbed her scarred nose to illustrate the point.

He tilted his head, regarding her seriously. “I think you could be whatever you wanted, Clari.” He stepped closer, and pulled aside his coattails to sit beside her. Clari’s heart began to race. “Clari…” He seemed unsure of himself, which surprised her. He’d always been so forceful, so determined.

“My lord,” she murmured, her soft voice inquiring.

“Dominic,” he said, and he seemed to regain his self-assurance. “Or Dom. It’s what my friends call me.”

“Then Dom it is,” Clari agreed teasingly. He smiled at her, and the hunger in his smile made the moisture gather between her legs, made her nipples peak inside the soft silk of her chemise. She became acutely aware of their surroundings, of the darkness and solitude of the little corner at the back of the maze.

“Do you remember when you kissed me, Dom?” Her voice was a breathless whisper.

“Yes, I remember.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and Clari felt a little frisson of fear. But it was the kind of fear that excited her, that made her want to jump into the lion’s jaws to feel his hot breath and the bite of his beautiful, sharp teeth.

“Kiss me like that again,” she whispered and she leaned toward him.

Dom pulled her into his embrace and his mouth swooped down over hers. It was as demanding as she had hoped, as she had dreamed. His mastery of the kiss was complete, and yet Clari felt his excitement when she thrust her tongue into his mouth to parry with his. He backed down, letting her take the lead. She licked into him and felt intoxicated at the taste and feel of his mouth. His breath was indeed hot, his teeth sharp. The soft skin of his cheeks against her tongue and the taste of spirits and mint made her melt against him. She ate at his mouth, nibbled his lips and sucked the lower one into her mouth. Dom moaned and Clari felt a power she’d never known before. She captured his moan and swallowed it and fisted her hands in his hair to pull him closer.

Dominic broke away from the kiss with a ragged breath. Clari followed the line of his jaw with little teasing kisses, feeling like the seducer here and enjoying it.

“Clari,” he rasped, and had to clear his throat. “Clari, stop. We must talk.”

“No,” she panted, running her mouth down his throat. “I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss.” She kissed the soft skin low on his neck, just above his cravat, but it wasn’t enough. She sucked a small, tender morsel into her mouth and Dom’s strangled groan encouraged her. She sucked the skin there lightly, wanting to devour him.

Dominic pulled her head back with a strong hand twisted in her hair. The sharp sting of it made Clari moan.

“Sweet Christ,” he swore as she fought to bring his lips back to hers. Then he swung her around on the bench and brought her back up against his chest, trapping her within the circle of his arms.

Chapter Three

“Clari, stop,” Dom whispered in her ear, his hot breath again that of a predator. Clari felt like prey as she was caught in his arms. She struggled but Dom tightened his hold. The contact made her gasp as his arm slid just under her breasts, supporting them, pushing them up, rubbing her aroused nipples against warmed silk.

“Clari, I won’t hurt you.” His voice was a low throb behind her. His hand opened, and spread against her rib cage, his fingers spanning most of her abdomen. It made her realize how large his hand was, what a big man he was, and the thrill of it spiked her fear, and her desire. Her panting breaths filled the night air. He let her go and Clari flew from the bench, but she didn’t go far, just a few steps away to get herself under control.

“What…” Clari had to stop to lick dry lips, “what’s going on, Dominic? What do we need to talk about?”

She saw his nostrils flare when she said his name. “I like it when you call me that.” He stood. “I want you so much, Clari.” When he stepped forward she retreated until her back hit the tree.

“Is that what we need to talk about?” Clari asked. She tried to sound teasing, but her voice shook slightly, ruining the effect. She was scared, but also excited and aroused. Not just by Dominic’s kisses and his admission, but by the dominating way he’d held her. She knew he didn’t understand why she was running from him. “Because I’d like to start.”

Dominic looked surprised, but he took a step back and nodded. Clari took a deep breath, feeling as if she were stepping off a cliff, hoping Dominic would catch her.

“I want you too.” Dominic started to take a step forward then and Clari held up a hand and he stopped. “No, let me finish. I’m hiding over here by the tree because when I’m near you I want your tongue down my throat and your hands on my body, so if you insist on conversation, then you’d better stay put.”

Dom laughed and shook his head. “I should have known you wouldn’t play the scared little debutante, shrinking from the touch of an aroused man.”

Clari smiled at him and he saw the desire in her expression. “Hardly. I’ve been dreaming about getting you alone for weeks. I want you in every way possible.”

Dom sucked in his breath. Did she understand exactly what she was saying? “I know a great many ways that are possible, and some most people would consider impossible.”

Clari tilted her head, obviously intrigued. “I know a little, you know. I paid a maid to buy a book for me, and then I…experimented with some of the things I read.”

It was Dom’s turn to look intrigued. “Experimented how?”

Clari’s pose became relaxed as she leaned back against the tree. She ran her hands up her stomach and Dom held his breath as she hesitated before covering her breasts with them and squeezing. “I touched my breasts, like this.” When she pulled her hands away her nipples were hard, the peaks through the thin silk of her gown as large as ripe cherries. Dom’s mouth began to water.

“Christ,” Dom breathed, his cock so hard the tip nearly poked out the top of his trousers. “What else?” He took a tentative step forward and when she looked at him invitingly he slowly prowled over to the tree. He leaned one forearm on the trunk so he was looking down at her, and pressed his nose into the hair on the top of her head, breathing deeply. “Did you touch yourself,” he moved his hand down to cup her mound through her thin dress, “here?”

Clari’s breath hitched, and she undulated against his hand softly, sinuously. “Yes,” she whispered and tipped her head back to lean it against the tree so she could see him. “I touched myself there until I learned how to climax.”

“God, Clari,” Dom rasped, as he rubbed his palm over the heat of her, evident even through her clothes. She was all that he had dreamed and more. “Are you wet right now?”

Clari’s hips moved against him again, and she nodded. “Touch me, Dominic.”

Dom moved and began to knead and shape Clari’s breasts, the pressure of his hands nearly spilling the creamy globes out of her low-cut bodice. She moaned. “I should have known you’d start there.” Dom looked at her in question. She shook her head. “Men rarely look in my face when they’re talking to me, Dominic. They look at my breasts.”

He ran a finger along the soft swells over the pale silk border. “This is lower than you’ve worn in the past, Clari. This dress is more provocative. Why? If you don’t want men to stare.” He continued to trace an invisible line across the hot, satiny flesh, and gooseflesh rose in the wake of his finger. Her nipples were still hard, tempting him.

“I wanted you to kiss me again,” she said, her voice trembling. “I wanted to make you want me.” She shrugged unsteadily. “It seemed the quickest way to do it.”

Clari closed her eyes on a moan as Dom ran featherlight fingers over her nipples. He laughed, the sound low and predatory. “I have wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He leaned his hips in and rubbed his cock against her and they both gasped. Dom dragged in a moan. “Christ almighty, you’ve got me so hard I ache.” Clari’s hands clutched his shoulders.

He pulled away and spun her around to unlace her dress. As soon as it was loose he turned her back and pulled it down, along with her chemise, until they rested just below her breasts. The clothes, and her corset, pushed her lush breasts up and forward like an offering. They were pale perfection topped with large rosy red nipples, turgid and begging to be sucked. “These are the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen, Clari.” He didn’t try to minimize his admiration as he leaned down and licked one rosy peak, slowly dragging the flat of his tongue over it, savoring the texture and flavor. He bit it gently and she cried out, arching her back. Dom latched on to the sweet bud greedily, sucking and pulling on it, his hand cupping the fullness of her large breast, pressing it into his mouth. He pulled his mouth off the nipple with a pop, and licked the soft skin of her breast, then ran his tongue over the small bumps that filled the dark pink areola around the delicious point. He loved the textures of her breast—smooth, rough, soft, hard. She tasted of spicy perfume and the salty tang of sweat, a heady combination.

Clari was panting, her hands buried in his hair. “I’m glad you like them,” she said breathlessly.

“Do you taste this good everywhere, Clari?” he growled. She looked at him blankly and he straightened, running his fingers worshipfully over the soft, creamy skin, feeling the heat and softness and marveling at it. He explained. “I want to lick your pussy, Clari. I want to taste you there, too.”

Clari felt her knees go weak at Dominic’s words. “Yes, Dominic,” she told him, her voice a rough whisper. “I want that. Can you do that?” He fell to his knees before her and pushed her skirt up, his movements urgent as if he had to taste her now, right this minute.

“I can do that and more, Clari.” He shoved the skirt into her hands and she grabbed it.

She felt his fingers nimbly working on the tie to her drawers. Then she heard a rip.

“Damn.” She looked down and the tie was undone, but he’d ripped the drawers nearly in half. The sight of him kneeling before her, his face on a level with her wet, throbbing sex made Clari moan and close her eyes.

“Just rip the damn things off and put your mouth on me,” she groaned. “Lord, Dominic, I never knew a man would do that for a woman.” She yanked at the torn garment. “I want more. I want you to do everything to me, Dominic, everything you ever wanted to do to a woman.”

He reached out and ripped the drawers off, the sound loud in their secluded clearing. “That is precisely what I’d hoped to talk about this evening,” he said in a choked voice. Dominic looked up at her, as if to make sure she was watching and then touched a finger to the top of her dark pelt of pubic hair. The touch was light, soft, but it went through Clari like lightning. She shook with the force of it, felt her entrance swell and open, her juices flow in a hot rush to coat her lips there. Dominic ran his finger down to the top of her slit and then insinuated it between her swollen lips. She cried out when he pressed on the small, hard nub there, and her hips thrust against that one finger. He slid his finger lightly down until he touched the weeping entrance at the heart of her sex.

“So wet, Clari,” he murmured, “so hot and swollen.” He looked up at her and there was triumph in his gaze. “You’ll do it,” he told her. “You’ll do anything I want.”

And in that moment Clari knew he was right. She nodded slowly. “Yes, Dominic, I’ll do anything.”

He leaned in and his tongue licked her, staying on the outer lips, lapping up the cream coating them, nuzzling his nose in her damp pubic hair. Clari bit her lip to stifle her cry of pleasure, and released one hand from her skirt to clutch his head and hold his mouth to her. His tongue darted in and danced around her hard clitoris, and Clari thrust against it. When he did it again, as she thrust her hips she felt his finger push inside her, slowly but insistently until it was fully embedded in her sheath. It felt big and rough, and so good.

“Dominic, yes,” she moaned and her reward was another thrust as he drank the juice that was flowing freely from her now, drawn by his finger fucking her so deliciously. It became a dance of thrust and retreat, his mouth always there, licking, drinking, nibbling—eating her sex. She couldn’t stop her moans as she rode his face, her thighs trembling with the effort to stay up as her arousal built around his finger and mouth.

When he pulled his mouth away Clari cried out in dismay and he laughed. “Clari, my little wanton. You taste so good I’m tempted to eat you all night. You’re so bloody wet, you’ve soaked my hand.”

He thrust his finger in hard and deep and Clari rode it. On the next thrust it felt bigger, and she moaned at the sting of it.

“I’ve got two fingers in your cunt, Clari,” Dom whispered. She looked down and through the haze of her desire saw him watching his fingers fucking into her. “Do you want another?”

Clari licked her lips and the sensation of her own tongue there was arousing she’d become so sensitive. “Do you?” she finally asked Dominic, who’d been patiently waiting for an answer. His reply was to push three fingers inside her, and the fullness, the sting, the ache of it was heaven. “Dominic!” she cried out.

Immediately he pushed his mouth against her again, and latched on to her clitoris, sucking noisily. His fingers fucked her deep and hard and Clari saw stars behind her eyes. She was reaching for the bliss she knew awaited her. She’d climaxed before, but not with a man. Not with Dominic, his fingers fucking her, his face buried between her thighs.

Suddenly one of his fingers pulled out, and traced a line back to the tight hole in her bottom. He ran his wet finger around the hole and then without warning pushed it in, not all the way but still enough to make Clari cry out. It was decadent, arousing, shocking, and it felt good, so good, as he began to wiggle the finger there, and rock it in a small in-and-out motion, never really retreating but massaging her back passage.

“God, yes,” Clari groaned, and Dominic groaned with her. At the feel of his rumble of satisfaction against her sex Clari could take no more and convulsed around him. He pressed everything hard inside her, his fingers rubbing on a particularly sensitive spot in her cunt, the finger in her bottom hooking there, his tongue lashing her pulsing bud, and Clari thought her orgasm would never end. She cried out, and when the peak passed little tremors continued to shake her as Dominic’s ministrations grew gentler and slower.

He finally pulled away and Clari moaned at the loss of his fingers inside her. She watched Dominic pull a small portion of her chemise to his face and wipe it off. He must be drenched with her juices. She couldn’t raise any genuine regret through the pleasurable haze of satiation, but she apologized just the same, her voice hoarse from her cries.

Dominic just smiled at her as he stood up. “Don’t be sorry,” he said as he took her skirts and lowered them, covering her. “I’m not.”

Dominic took her hand and led her over to the bench in the corner. She followed docilely, letting him arrange her there to his liking. He sat her on the edge of the bench and then he stepped close, straddling her lap, his legs spread wide. Her face was nearly pressed into the bulge in his trousers and she looked up at him, confused for a moment. When she saw the heat in his gaze understanding dawned in a flash.

“Can I do that to you?” she asked eagerly. “Take you in my mouth?”

“Please,” Dominic said, but it wasn’t a request, it was a command.

Dominic watched Clari’s face as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his cock out. God, it felt good to free it from its confining prison. He was so hard from eating her and having her come all over him he was sure he wouldn’t last long. He knew he was pushing the boundaries with a virgin, but that had been his intent tonight. He needed to know if Clari could handle his sexual appetites. He desperately hoped she could, because he loved her too much to walk away now. Most of his doubts about that had been settled. But there were still questions. Not many women enjoyed sucking a man’s cock, swallowing his seed. He wanted his woman to enjoy it. If Clari enjoyed it, it would tell him so much about her latent sexuality.

Clari tentatively reached out and touched the tip of his erection, already leaking. She spread the moisture around the dark head of his penis, and then pulled her hand away to rub her fingers together, as if testing the texture. Then she pressed a finger to her lips and the tip of her tongue peeked out to taste it.

“Christ, Clari,” Dom groaned, “you’re going to be the death of me.” She looked up at him and smiled, then she stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked all of the moisture off. Dom felt his cock leaking more at the sight.

Clari slowly pulled her finger from her mouth, a natural-born seductress as she watched him watch her. “It tastes salty,” she murmured, pressing two fingers against his slit this time to gather the cream. Dom grabbed her hand.

“I don’t want to come on your fingers, Clari,” he ground out. “If you like the taste, then suck it off. Put my cock in your mouth and suck. I want to come there, and I’ll give you all you can swallow then.”

Clari needed no more encouragement. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and leaned in, sucking the heart-shaped head into her mouth like a treat. Her tongue ran over it inside her incredibly hot, wet mouth and Dom grabbed the elaborate knot of hair on the back of her head, pressing his cock deeper into her mouth. She resisted for a moment, struggling, and Dom felt his desire spike at her weakness, his dominance of her. He imagined how much he was going to like tying her up, spanking her before she sucked his cock while she lay helpless, her ass stinging from his blows. He threw his head back and thrust into her mouth with pleasure at the thought.

Clari made a whimper of surrender and opened her mouth wider. Dom shuddered at the feeling, at the hot saliva in her mouth surrounding his cock, the slight scrape of her teeth. “Yes, Clari, like that,” he murmured, pulling out until only the head was still in her mouth and then thrusting again. She knew the dance now, she was ready for it. “Relax your mouth, Clari, and your throat. I can go deeper that way, fuck your mouth without hurting you.” He felt her immediately follow his instructions, and loved the power of it.

“Good girl,” he praised her gruffly, and watched his cock go in and out, fucking that full, sweet mouth. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. “Do you like it, Clari?” he murmured, directing her head to start moving on him with the hand in her hair. Her eyes flew open, and she looked up at him, never hesitating as she began to bob her head in time with his thrusts. “Jesus,” he whispered, overcome at the sight of her with her mouth stuffed full of his cock, her eyes hungry. Her hands slid up his legs to grip his thighs and pull him closer. “You like to suck it,” he said in awe, “you like it when I fuck your mouth.”

Clari moaned in response and angled her head so his cock was deeper in her throat with each thrust. Dom moaned her name and gripped her hair so hard he knew it must hurt her, but she didn’t protest. He was trying to stay in control, not to fuck her tender, virgin mouth too hard. “Suck it now, Clari,” he ground out, feeling his orgasm building as his balls grew tight and pulled in. “Suck it and swallow it when I come.” She gave a tiny little nod and Dom’s head nearly exploded when she drew deeply on his cock, her cheeks hollowing with her effort. His thrusts into her mouth got shorter, so that most of his cock remained in that tight, hot, wet cocoon, and Clari’s arms snaked between his spread legs to press her hands against his ass and pull him closer. The brush of her arms on his balls, the sight of her rapturous face as he fucked that incredible mouth pushed Dom into orgasm. He came with a growl, pressing his cock deep in her mouth with the hand on the back of her head as he felt his release shoot out in wave after wave of pleasure. Clari whimpered, but she swallowed around his thick length, drinking him down. He watched her with narrowed eyes, his sight dim and unfocused for a moment. He saw some of his cum leak out of the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t take it all, but she was trying, and he loved her for it.

When the aftershocks were over, Dom carefully pulled his cock out. Clari tenderly closed her mouth, wiggling her jaw to ease the ache of having it pressed wide for so long.

“I’m sorry,” Dom told her as he tried to close his trousers with hands still shaking from one of the most powerful orgasms of his life.

“I’m not,” Clari said, and they smiled at one another, both clearly struck by the redundancy of this conversation. Dom leaned down and kissed her softly, then licked salty residue of his pleasure from her chin and cheeks as her breath trembled in the air.

After they had redressed and tidied up a bit more, Dominic tucked her hand into the curve of his elbow. “We’d best be getting back. We’re going to be missed soon.”

Clari sighed and walked slowly next to him, their hips bumping gently as they were in no hurry to leave their little corner. “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” she asked teasingly.

Dominic stopped and looked at her seriously. “You’re going to marry me, you know,” he told her. How like Dominic not to ask, Clari thought with a sigh. She decided now was not the time to argue.

“Yes, I know.” Dominic grinned at her easy agreement.

“Did you mean it when you said you would do anything I wanted?” he purred as he pulled her close again, his arms holding her tight as he nuzzled the hair they’d only just put to rights.

“Yes,” she sighed, snuggling against him. His arms tightened.

“I like to watch, Clari,” he breathed, “and I like to share.”

Clari went still for a moment. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

“I like to watch other people fuck.” Dominic’s words had her heart pounding. “I want to watch you fuck, Clari. Fuck someone else.”

The thought was shockingly arousing. She thought she knew who, but she asked anyway. “Who, Dominic?”

He pulled back and put his hands on her shoulders. He hunched down a bit so he could see her face. “Benford.”

Clari’s breath caught in her throat as her body reacted to the image her mind immediately conjured.

“And I want to fuck you with him. Both of us, like my fingers in you tonight.”

Clari couldn’t catch her breath. He meant one cock in her pussy and one in her ass. She was sure that was what he meant.

“Does that arouse you?” he asked, his voice husky. He obviously knew the answer, saw it in her reaction.

“Yes,” she whispered, and Dominic grinned as he took her hand and placed it back on his arm. He began walking again as if this were a normal conversation.

“It won’t be all the time, Clari,” he explained quietly. “Only once in a while. I have a feeling just fucking you is going to be more than enough to satisfy me most of the time. But I do like those other things, Clari, and I think you will too.” He stopped and faced her, his look knowing. “I know you’ll like it. Ben is very good.”

Clari reacted with only minor shock, a testament to how far she’d come in just one night. “Is he your lover?” she asked.

“No.” Dominic shrugged. “But when the mood strikes we share a woman. What you need to know is that I like it all, Clari. I like to experience sexual pleasure, and feel no embarrassment about the things that give it to me.” He put his hand over hers on his arm and squeezed. “I don’t want you to either. I always want you to feel free to try whatever you like—with me.”

Before Clari could answer they heard a voice quietly calling his name.

“Over here, Ben,” Dominic called back just as quietly. Benford came around the corner ahead of them.

“I was getting worried. Someone is going to note your absence soon.” He was looking at Clari as he spoke, and she blushed as she thought of what Dominic wanted. Dominic let go of her hand and she turned her head sharply toward him. He took two steps away, watching her with hooded eyes. She turned back to Benford to see the same look on his face, and she realized this was it, the test. Was she daring enough to give Dominic what he wanted? What she wanted?

“They’re going to know,” Benford said quietly as he began to walk in a circle around her.

“Are they?” Dominic asked, leaning against a tree in a cavalier pose.

“Know what?” Clari was surprised at the sultry note in her voice.

Benford stopped in front of her. “That he’s just satisfied you.” He stepped closer and put a finger under her chin, raising her face to the moonlight. “Your lips are red and swollen from his kisses.” He leaned down and delicately sniffed her neck, not quite touching her. Sensation skated down her back, making her shiver. “And you smell of sex,” he whispered in her ear. He nuzzled his nose in her hair. “Did he fuck you?”

Clari was breathing hard, aroused by Benford’s inspection. His last question made her sex throb.

“No,” Clari answered, her voice a whisper. “No, he didn’t fuck me…Ben.”

At her words, he pulled back and stared at her. “Why not?” he asked after a moment. “I would have.”

Clari smiled. “I think you mean you will,” she told him, and Ben smiled back as he leaned down and kissed her. His lips were softer, fuller than Dominic’s, not so aggressive. It was a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue invading and filling her mouth, making her think of his cock doing the same. They didn’t touch except for that kiss, the deprivation itself a sort of sexual game that made her tingle. Ben pulled back and looked at her hungrily. “You taste like Dom.”

She looked at Dominic. He was smiling—the wolfish, aroused smile that made her inner muscles clench, made her feel every nerve there left sensitive by their previous play.

“The banns will be read this Sunday,” he said quietly.

Chapter Four

Clari arched her back, taking the hard cock fucking into her with practiced ease. She felt like she was melting she was so aroused, so wet. She’d already come, but he was merciless, fucking her just the way she liked, rubbing that sweet spot inside over and over.

“Stop.”

The voice came from the chair in front of the hearth. Dominic sat there, clothed, his pose relaxed as he watched Ben fuck her.

They’d been married for five months. After a brief wedding trip to Italy to visit some of Dominic’s mother’s relatives, they’d returned and begun their life together. Ben was an important part of that life.

He’d fucked her before tonight. They’d done just about everything together, with a few exceptions, while Dominic watched or participated. One of her favorite memories was the night they’d gone to the opera. Ben had slowly slid to the floor during the performance, hidden by the drape over the banister of their box. He’d lifted Clari’s skirt and licked and teased her pussy endlessly while Dominic had watched, absently stroking Ben’s hair. To anyone observing them it would have looked as if Dominic was simply talking to his wife, his hand on her knee. She’d come two or three times, and was so wet and boneless they had to leave during the intermission. Dominic had been so aroused that as soon as they got in the carriage he’d fucked her roughly from behind while Ben watched. That was the first time they’d tied her up, after they got home.

Ben stopped thrusting into her soaking cunt, his breathing labored. “Dom,” he panted, pleading. He’d been about to pull out and come, Clari could tell. Dominic could as well.

Dominic rose from his chair and walked over to the bed, lord of all he surveyed. Clari loved it when they played this game, when she and Ben had to do everything Dominic told them to. He looked at Ben and Ben pulled slowly out of her, groaning.

“Are you ready, Clari?” Dominic asked, his voice soft and tender. They had discussed this today, before Ben arrived.

Clari rolled over and laid her cheek on the bed. She reached out a hand to Dominic. He took it and raised it to his lips for a kiss. She nodded as he held her hand and looked into her eyes. She was ready, more than ready. She’d been fantasizing about this for months, begging them to do it. They hadn’t told Ben yet.

“Ready for what?” Ben asked, his voice still breathless.

Dominic let her hand drop and began to unbutton his waistcoat. Clari looked over her shoulder and saw Ben’s eyes narrow in speculation as he watched Dominic undress. He looked down at Clari watching him and his face split into a big grin.

“Damn me, is he finally going to let us all fuck?” he exclaimed, his excitement evident.

Clari laughed. “Yes, he is.”

Ben licked down the curve of her back, making Clari moan, then he nibbled on the cheek of her ass and she cried out in mock protest. “I get this,” Ben purred, stroking both hands over her ass, placing kisses along the curve of it, licking the crease, wet with juice from their earlier fucking. Clari shivered at the erotic sensations.

“Did I say you could fuck my wife’s ass, Ben?” Dominic asked silkily.

Ben froze. He knew what Dominic wanted. They were still playing the game. “Please, Dom, please,” he begged in a low voice. “You’ve never let me before. I’m begging, please.” He leaned down and Clari saw him rub his cheek over her round bottom, his beard scratchy, his eyes closed with a look of adoration on his face. “I’ve watched you fuck it, Dom, listened to you tell me how tight and hot and marvelous it is.” He opened his eyes and leaned back on his haunches. “Please, Dom.”

Dominic’s smile was filled with anticipation. “Since you beg so sweetly, Ben, I will let you fuck Clari’s ass.” He placed both fists on the bed and leaned over until his lips were at Ben’s ear. “I’ll let you see for yourself how tight it is, how it hugs your long, hard cock and squeezes it until you beg for mercy. You’ve seen how much Clari likes it in the ass, Ben.” He turned his head to look at Clari. “And I know how good you are at fucking one.”

Clari shivered with lust. Dominic and Ben had alluded to the fact they’d fucked women together in the past. But they hadn’t fucked her together. Tonight she wanted both cocks inside her. Dominic had promised.

“Mine,” she whispered possessively, rising to her hands and knees, and gently pushing Dominic back until he stood with a grin. “Both cocks are mine tonight.”

Ben’s arms went around her waist and he hugged her tight as he kissed her back. Dominic just laughed.

“We’ve made you a greedy little thing, haven’t we, Ben?” Dominic asked as he whisked off his shirt and threw it to the floor.

“Thank God,” Ben breathed, licking and kissing the smooth skin of her back, his hands kneading her aching breasts, pinching her nipples. She moaned in delight. He was so good, almost as good as Dominic.

When Dominic removed his pants Clari knew it wasn’t going to be a long fuck, which was fine with her. She was ready, so sensitive from her earlier orgasms she knew she would probably come as soon as they both entered her. Dominic’s cock was at its hardest, as long as it could get, and moisture was leaking continually from the slit in the full head. Watching her and Ben fuck, and knowing what was coming, had him as aroused as she and Ben were.

Dominic crawled onto the bed and propped his shoulders up on the pillows at the head. “Fuck her, and then I’ll enter her.”

Ben needed no other encouragement. He grabbed Clari around the waist and lifted her up, moving her so she was straddling Dominic. Clari was continually amazed at the strength of the two men. She knew she was not a small woman, but they made her feel almost delicate when they loved her.

Ben ruined her sweet thoughts when he unceremoniously shoved her facedown on Dominic’s stomach, pulling her hips up roughly so her ass was in the air. She grunted at the force of it. “And here I was thinking how strong and gentle you were,” she mumbled, and Dominic laughed. He ran a hand through her hair.

“You can’t expect him to be gentle now, love, not when he’s finally going to fuck your delicious ass.”

“With you,” Ben growled, as he pressed his cock into her pussy. “I just need to get wet again, sweetheart,” he told her softly, thrusting deep several times, making her gasp. “I finally get to fuck her with you, Dominic. I get to feel your cock rubbing on mine as we both fuck her. God! I’ve been dreaming about it. Fucking Clari with you, sharing your wife, it’s been the most amazing sexual experience I’ve ever had. This is the ultimate gift.” He stopped for a moment, deep inside her, his breath ragged again. “Do you both understand how much it means to me, to be a part of your love? I see how much you love each other and the chance to be even a small part of it…” his voice faded, choked with emotion.

“Ben,” Clari said, her voice wavering, tears filling her eyes. “We love you, Ben. You are our best friend.”

Dominic’s hand caressed Ben’s at her waist, then rested on it. “Yes, Ben. You have been my best friend for a long time. Helping me to give Clari this, to watch her sexuality grow and develop, knowing that I never have to worry because you are there to help us, to share with us, to help me protect her and pleasure her. It means a great deal to me. More than you can ever know.”

“I hope you know one day, Ben,” Clari whispered. She rose to her hands and knees, closing her eyes as she imagined Dominic fucking a mystery woman with Ben, Ben’s wife, sharing the same intimacies Ben shared with them. She knew that she could accept that, perhaps even participate in it.

“Clari,” Ben whispered, his voice raw with blatant need.

Dominic rose, his weight on one arm as he reached up and stroked Clari’s jaw. “Yes, darling.” When she turned back to him he kissed her, at first tender, but their arousal was too close to the surface, their need too rough, too volatile. His kiss turned hard and demanding and his hand fisted in her hair, twisting her head to fuck her mouth better with his tongue, to bite her lips until she cried out.

Ben pulled out of Clari’s sheath and she felt the tip of his cock nudge the tight entrance in her ass as he positioned himself. She gasped against Dominic’s mouth, unconsciously relaxing her muscles, preparing to take Ben inside. He pressed and she moaned as the plump head of his cock breached her.

“Yes, Clari,” Dominic breathed, looking over her shoulder, watching Ben stroke into her. His hand trembled in her hair and she could hear the wonder in his voice. He wanted this as much as she and Ben, more probably. The waiting had been deliberate. He’d made them all mad for it by denying them this last pleasure. Perhaps it had been for the best. Clari felt as close to Ben now as Dominic did. This was truly a sharing between the three of them. If they hadn’t waited, it might not have held the special meaning it did tonight.

With one hard thrust Ben pushed into her to the hilt and Clari cried out at the pleasure of being filled. She loved to feel a cock in her ass. Ben felt different than Dominic, longer, but not as thick. She’d noticed the difference when she’d first fucked him, first sucked his cock. He felt like…well, Ben. Just as Dominic felt like Dominic. Ben pulled out and stroked in, deep, but not too fast, the way she liked it.

“You’ve been studying Dominic’s technique,” she teased breathlessly. He thrust into her again and she bit her lip as her head fell back in rapture at the sweet assault.

“I’ve memorized the way he fucks you, Clari,” Ben whispered. “I fist my cock and come shouting when I’m home in my bed alone, remembering how you two look when he fucks your ass for me.”

“Oh God.” Clari’s arms trembled and she started to lower herself but Dominic stopped her.

“I’ve got to get inside you, Clari,” Dominic whispered, his voice filled with desperate passion. “Ben…”

Dominic lay down and let Ben take over. It showed Clari more than anything how overcome Dominic was by this experience. Ben wrapped an arm around her waist and supported her against his chest as Dominic slid down and positioned his cock underneath them. Ben slowly lowered Clari, moving with her, within her, as she sheathed Dominic’s penis in her cunt. It was tight, tighter than it had ever been.

“God,” Dominic groaned, voicing her thoughts, “you’re so tight, Clari. Christ!” His back arched of the bed as he slid the last inch until he was seated fully within her.

Ben was breathing hard behind her, his arm locked around her waist, holding her still. She felt so full it was just this side of pain, the good side. How she loved the sting of it, she wanted to ride these two cocks until she screamed. She tried to move but both men protested, Ben’s arm tightening, Dominic’s hand flying to her waist to grip her there.

“No, Clari!” Dominic’s back arched again when she squeezed him with her inner muscles, her vagina clamping tight around him. He fell back to the bed with a groan. “I’m not going to last, it feels too good, it’s been too long since I’ve been inside a woman with Ben.”

“Don’t last,” Clari cried out. “I want to feel you fucking me. I want you both to come inside me.” She fought them. “Please, Dominic, please.” She was sobbing, and she didn’t care.

Ben spoke, his voice guttural with the effort to hold back. “She’s right, Dom. Christ, let’s fuck her hard and fast now. We can fuck her again later, slower. But right now I’ve got to give her what she begs for.”

“Do it,” Dominic’s voice lashed out. “Fuck her.” He pulled out and then slammed into her as Ben pulled out and she screamed at the pleasure of it, the pain of it. Ben slammed into her ass as Dominic pulled out, and Clari sobbed. The two men fucked her roughly, but their movements were smooth, choreographed, as if they’d done this dance before, many times. Clari reveled in their skill and expertise.

Dominic reached down and pressed his thumb against her swollen clitoris, each thrust of their cocks driving her against that pressure.

“I’m going to come, Dominic, I’m going to come,” she chanted, her breath panting, her voice hoarse.

“Yes, angel, do it, come,” he urged her. “I want to feel you squeeze us both as we fill you.”

Clari sobbed out his name as the spasms overtook her, like a wave gaining speed as it sped to shore, only to crash violently upon it. When the peak hit, she screamed again, the sound rough and desperate. She could feel her pussy and ass strangling their cocks with the force of her orgasm, and both men cried out. Ben came first, slamming into her and shouting. It was the first time he’d come inside her while fucking her. He’d come in her mouth, but he wouldn’t risk it in her pussy, wouldn’t risk impregnating her, the scandal it might cause. But she could feel the heat of his semen as it filled her ass, and it made her clench tight on them again.

“Ben,” she keened, “God!”

Dominic’s neck arched and he gasped. “Christ! I can feel it.” And then his shoulders hunched as he cried out, and Clari felt his cock jerk inside her over and over, felt his cum run out of her pussy and down her thighs as he filled her to overflowing.

It was darkest night when Clari woke to find herself cocooned between the two men. She didn’t remember much after she’d come again from Dominic’s climax. She didn’t feel sticky, so she guessed they’d cleaned her up. She smiled in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What are you smiling about, minx?” Dominic whispered in the dark, and she looked up to see him smiling at her. She lay on his chest while Ben spooned her from behind.

“How you two take care of me,” she whispered back, and laid her head down again, listening to his heartbeat.

Dominic stroked her hair tenderly. “The first time I saw you, Clari, a little lost debutante hiding in Merwell’s woods, I knew you were the woman for me. I don’t know how I knew it, I just did. My soul must have recognized yours, seen a spirit and passion that could match my own. By the time I asked you to marry me—”

Clari laughed. “You didn’t ask, you told me I was going to,” she reminded him.

She could feel his smile in the dark even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Fine. By the time I told you you were going to marry me, I wanted you so much, I loved you so much…even if you couldn’t accept what I wanted. I hoped you would be strong enough, brave enough to be free with me, but even if you weren’t, I meant to have you.”

“Oh, Dominic,” Clari said softly and she kissed his chest. “I’ve come a long way from that lost little debutante.” He chuckled. “I was almost too afraid to dare reach for what we both wanted.”

Dominic kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, my daring debutante.”

About the Authors

KyAnn Waters

KyAnn Waters lives in Utah with her husband, two children and two dogs. She spends her days writing and her evenings with her family. She enjoys sporting events on the television, thrillers on the big screen, and hot scenes between the pages of her books.

Also by KyAnn Waters

All Lycan’s Eve

Eternal Rapture

Impulsive Pleasures

Maxie Cooper

Maxie Cooper wears many hats, writing in multiple genres under various pseudonyms. In addition to writing, she has a passion for sexy new shoes, decadent chocolate and hot, steamy novels. She can often be found indulging in one or more of these guilty pleasures at the same time.

Although Maxie physically resides in a small upstate New York community, her imagination takes her to faraway magical places where an element of fantasy usually finds its way into her award-winning books.

Rebecca Airies

Rebecca Airies has always loved to read. Futuristic, the classics, mystery or horror, the genre doesn’t matter as long as the stories capture her interest and take her on an adventure. She soon discovered a love for writing and characters just waiting to tell their stories. Since that time, writing has become an obsession.

Rebecca lives in the heart of Texas. She loves the outdoors, growing things, and working on crafts when she’s not lost in the worlds of her characters. Please feel free to write and tell her what you think; she’d love to hear from you.

Also by Rebecca Airies

Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction II anthology

Primal Quest

Second Chance

Natasha Moore

I fell in love with the written word as soon as I could read. I started writing my own stories while I was still in grade school. I even passed around my own version of fanfic to my classmates long before the term was ever coined. As I grew up, I fell in love with romance and I love the chance to add some extra sizzle to my stories.

I live with my own real life hero who is happy to tell everyone that he’s my inspiration. We travel in our RV whenever possible—the great thing about writing is I can take it anywhere. See you down the road.

Also by Natasha Moore

Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction IV anthology

Nothing to Fear

Anna J. Evans

Anna J. Evans came back to her true love of writing fiction after working Off-off-off-Broadway and in a few Hollywood C-movies. She quit the biz to become a stay at home Mom-Writer and she’s loving every minute of it!

Anna lives in Arkansas with her Air Force husband, her real-life romantic hero, their three kids and all the stories still making their way from her imagination to the page.

Anna has been awarded multiple Recommended Reads for her paranormal and fantasy erotic adventures, but her favorite feedback always comes from fans. So feel free to drop her a line or join her newsletter, http://groups.yahoo.com/group/anna_j_evans_newsletter/

Also by Anna J. Evans

Bad Apple

Beauty Sleep

Decking the Hollisters

Deep Cover

Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction IV anthology

Enchanted

Love Fool

Main Attraction

Off the Deep End

Risking It All

Seducing the Enemy

Sinfully Sweet

Samantha Kane

Samantha has a Master’s Degree in History, and is a full time writer and mother. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and three children.

Also by Samantha Kane

A Lady In Waiting

Brothers In Arms 1: The Courage to Love

Brothers In Arms 2: Love Under Siege

Brothers In Arms 3: Love’s Strategy

Brothers In Arms 4: At Love’s Command

The authors welcome comments from readers. You can find their websites and email addresses on their author bio pages at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at Comments@EllorasCave.com.

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com

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