by Tina Folsom
“A story? Oh, Enya, there are lots of fairy tales going around.” And he didn’t want to get his hopes up, nor did he want to crush hers, so he added, “Tell me what the story said.”
“When the demon felt the heartbeat of his own innocent flesh and blood,” she recited, “his soul wept and gave him back his true self.” She squeezed his arms. “But they translated it wrong. It’s not the heartbeat. It’s the child’s life force. It’s its virta. And the only way you feel your child’s virta is during the bonding, because only then will you not only receive my virta, but also that of our child. Your own innocent flesh and blood.”
Zoltan ran a shaky hand through his hair. “This is crazy.” But what if it was true? What if it worked? He suddenly realized that the question he’d had before, whether he could give up the power of the Great One, didn’t even figure into his calculation. All that mattered now was one thing: “And if it doesn’t work, if I remain a demon, what will happen to you and the child?”
Enya smiled. “You’ll be my mate. And we’ll deal with whatever we’re up against.”
Zoltan took a strand of her blond locks and brushed it out of her face. “I’ve never met a woman braver than you.” He pulled her to him. “Nor sexier.”
“Is that a yes?”
Zoltan smirked. “Is that a proposal?”
“Yes.”
“What took you so long?”
Enya rolled her eyes. “It’s traditionally the man’s job.”
“Enya, babe, I doubt our relationship will ever be a traditional one. But I’m good with that. As long as I can call you mine, I’m good with anything.” He paused for a moment. “I’d also be good with a shower right now—the stink of the Underworld is still clinging to me.”
She smirked. “Under one condition: I get to join you.”
“That can be arranged.”
27
Enya ran her eyes over Zoltan’s back when he walked into the shower tiled with pebbles in all shades of green and blue to resemble a rain forest. He turned on the water, allowing it to run down his body in rivulets that caressed the ridges and grooves of his muscular physique. The scene reminded her of the night she’d snuck into his condo and watched him pleasure himself, awakening her desire for him which never stayed far beneath the surface.
“Are you just gonna ogle me, or are you gonna join me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with ogling.”
He looked over his shoulder, his eyes a bright green, reminding her of the forbidden fruit she was craving. Yet she regretted nothing. Not a single moment. Not a single touch.
She followed him into the shower, put her hands on his back, and slid them down over his smooth skin to the firm muscles of his buttocks. He was more than just well proportioned. It was as if a higher power had sculpted him, made him perfect in every way.
Zoltan braced his hands against the wall and dipped his head to let the water run down his hair and face. “I love feeling your hands on me.”
“Then let me wash you.” She reached for the soap, squeezed a generous amount into her palm, and began to wash him.
She felt him relax into her touch with such ease that she wondered what luxuries he’d enjoyed as the Great One. “In the Underworld, did you have your demon females do this for you? Wash you? Please you?” She reached around him and put her soapy hand around his cock. “Pleasure you?”
He sucked in a breath and bucked his hips so her hand slid down to the root of his hardening cock. “I never wanted that kind of intimacy. Letting somebody take care of me like that would have meant to give up control. To let down my guard. It was never like that. It was only fucking.” He turned around to face her. “I could never trust anybody before.”
Enya ran her hands over his front, soaping him up and washing the dirt of the Underworld off him, then took particular care with his cock and balls. She felt him hold his breath when she rubbed his cock between her palms, caressing him gently. When she looked up at him, she noticed how his gaze was focused on her breasts.
“You excite me more than any other woman ever could.”
Zoltan moved so the water could wash away the soap. Then he reached out with both hands and cupped her breasts, squeezing them in his palms. A moan rushed over her lips.
“I think it’s my turn to wash you.”
He turned her, then pulled her against his chest. A moment later, his hands were on her chest, lathering her breasts with soft foam, massaging them, while she leaned back against him, his cock pressing against her bottom. Again and again, he rhythmically worked her breasts, before he slid one hand down between her legs and gently washed her there too. Before she knew what he was planning, he’d already taken the handheld shower attachment and was using it to wash away the foam from her pussy. But he didn’t seem to be done with it, even when no foam was left. Instead, he changed the setting, allowing the water to spray from it with more force. He directed it to her pussy and moved it up and down, side to side, until Enya let out a yelp of pleasure.
“Ah, right here,” he murmured into her ear, while his free hand still squeezed one breast. “Tell me, have you ever made yourself come like this?”
Enya leaned her head against his chest, her legs turning weak from the strong stream of the water targeting her clit and igniting it. “Yes.”
A hoarse chuckle sounded in her ear. “You’re a wicked woman, Enya. You’re gonna keep me on my toes, making sure you’ll never get bored of me.” He brought the shower attachment closer to her flesh, increasing the water pressure.
She gasped at the intensity of the pleasure. Another few seconds, and she would come.
“You’ll always tell me how you want me to pleasure you, won’t you?”
His deep voice catapulted her over the edge. Her orgasm charged through her like a tornado, making her knees buckle. But she didn’t fall. Zoltan was holding her pressed against him with both arms now, having dropped the shower attachment. He placed his palm over her pussy, cupping it gently, until the waves of pleasure subsided.
“I think you’re the wicked one,” Enya murmured, and turned her head to him.
“Why’s that?” He grinned the shameless grin of a man who knew exactly what he’d done. “I’m not the one whose knees just buckled.”
“Your fault.”
“Can you stand on your own again?”
“Yes, why?”
“So I can do this.”
He captured both her breasts and resumed kneading them, while he rubbed his cock against her butt, making her realize how big and hard he’d gotten. Her nipples felt tender to the touch, and her pussy was still sensitive, yet ready for more. And she knew Zoltan could give her exactly what she needed.
“Zoltan?”
“Hmm?”
“Dry me off. And then please don’t make me wait any longer and make love to me.”
~ ~ ~
At Enya’s words, Zoltan smiled. “I’m good with that.”
He dried her and himself with a large, fluffy towel that was softer than anything he’d ever had in the Underworld. Enya’s long hair was down and wet in places, though not soaked. She didn’t bother with a comb or a brush, just took his hand and led him into her bedroom. From the back she looked like Lady Godiva, beautiful and strong at the same time. He was one lucky son of a bitch to have earned her heart and her trust. He just hoped that he wouldn’t disappoint her, because there was no guarantee that he could ever shake the shackles of being a demon.
Enya pulled back the sheets of the king-sized bed and lay down, immediately turning her gaze to him. Her eyes swept over his body, making no secret out of the fact that she liked what she saw. He felt her desire physically, sensed how the mere knowledge of it sent blood rushing south to make his cock swell even more. When her eyes rested on the engorged organ, a growl rose from deep within his chest. Damn, deep down he was a beast, an animal waiting to claim his mate. Everything else was just a mask, a disguise so as not to frighten the fairer sex.
He al
most chuckled at that thought. Enya could hardly be described as the fairer sex. She was anything but weak or docile. In fact, she was perfect for him.
Zoltan slid onto the bed and rolled over Enya. She was already spreading her legs to welcome him, and without a word, without a preamble, he thrust into her wet pussy. Months ago, he had never imagined that Enya would give herself to him so freely. He’d expected her to fight him all the way, and that with time, he would tame her to accept him. But even then, he would have never even dreamed of getting what she was offering him tonight: a bond that could never be broken.
Enya put one hand on his chest, the other on his neck. “I love the way you feel inside me.”
He withdrew a few inches, then plunged deeper. “That’s good, because I’ll never leave this place again—not for long, anyway.” He began to move back and forth, rocking his hips, supporting his weight on his knees and elbows, while he locked eyes with her. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew we were meant to be together. I just never dreamed it would be this good.”
Enya caressed his nape, sending an erotic shiver down his spine and into his tailbone. “It’ll get even better.” Her smile was sinful and promising at the same time, while she forced her interior muscles to squeeze him tightly.
“Vixen,” he murmured, and thrust harder, though his tempo remained slow and steady. He wasn’t going to rush this. Taking Enya as his mate was an event he wanted to savor for as long as he could.
Enya pulled his head down to her and captured his lips. Their tongues mated, and he tasted the depth of her devotion to him, the truth of her love, the vastness of her trust. And one other thing: the enormity of her hope. Those same attributes filled him now too, as if he’d been given permission to love, trust, and hope. He didn’t question those feelings any longer, didn’t try to analyze them. Instead, he accepted the changes Enya had brought about in him.
Without a conscious thought on his part, their lovemaking took on a different tempo, a more urgent pace as they writhed against each other, connected not only by his cock in her pussy, but by their lips fused, their tongues dancing, their hands touching. It was as if they moved entirely in sync with each other, their bodies moving as one, their breaths combined, their hearts beating as one. He felt it then: a stream of energy, of power that seemed limitless, infusing him, spreading in his cells, engulfing him, until he felt it, felt her. Before his mind’s eye, he saw her: without a wall around her, without anything to protect her. Her true self, the warrior woman who loved him. The woman who offered herself to him so he could be free.
He felt his chest tighten with heavy emotion, as if he was going to burst, and ripped his lips from her. His orgasm hit him out of nowhere, sending more pleasure through his body than he’d ever experienced before.
“Send the virta back to me. Complete the bond,” she demanded. “Show yourself to me.”
Even though he didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to do, his body seemed to. He laid one hand on Enya’s left breast and willed the virta she’d shared with him to travel back to her. To his astonishment, he felt something akin to a flame charge down his arm, into his hand, before tiny fireworks seemed to explode underneath his palm and penetrate Enya’s skin.
She arched her back, her chest bucking toward him as if she’d received an electrical shock. Stunned, he almost jerked back, afraid of hurting her, but his body refused to break the bond. Then a second wave hit him, a different one. This wasn’t Enya’s virta but the child’s. It traveled through him at a different speed, but with no less intensity, until it streamed back down his arm and merged with Enya once more.
Only now he noticed that the color of his skin had changed. He was shimmering golden. Zoltan lifted his hand from Enya’s breast and examined it in wonder, then looked at the other arm and found the same color.
“We’re bonded,” Enya said with a smile.
He looked into her eyes and wanted to respond, but a spasm went through his torso. The first spasm was followed by a second, before he managed to roll off Enya, clamping his hand over his heart in an attempt to stop the feeling of a vise squeezing all blood from his heart.
“No!” he yelled out in agony.
Enya was on her knees next to him on the bed, trying to help him, but there was nothing she could do. The waves of pain kept coming; the spasms didn’t subside, didn’t give him the chance to even say goodbye to her. Because he knew this was the end. He felt it.
“Zoltan! Oh no, please!” Enya sobbed.
I’m sorry, he tried to say, but he had no breath to form the words. His vision was blurring now, his head near exploding. Through his pain, he reached for Enya, for the mate whose virta was killing him. It was poetic justice, wasn’t it? The last defense of a Stealth Guardian, should a demon ever manage to win a guardian’s heart: their bond would be their downfall.
“Enya,” he managed to say. He swallowed, trying to wet his hoarse throat, and with it, he tasted his own tears. Or were they Enya’s? They had to be, because a demon couldn’t cry.
He suddenly felt her lips on his, kissing his face, soothing him. Their tears mingled, and in his heart he felt only one thing now: Enya’s love. With a start, he realized that the vise around his heart was gone. His lungs were filling with air. The pain vanished. He jerked up to sit and wrapped his arms around Enya.
She squeezed him. “I thought I’d lost you.” She pulled back to look at him. Her eyes widened in shock.
“What?” he asked, alarmed.
A loud sound reached his ears.
“I thought I smelled demon.”
Zoltan whipped his head to the menacing male voice and saw a vampire standing in the open door. “Fuck!”
28
Enya spun her head to the intruder, and simultaneously snatched the duvet to cover herself and Zoltan. The intruder was no other than Grayson, a triumphant expression on his face, as if he’d just won a competition with his colleagues. And he probably had—he’d used his superior vampire sense of smell to find Zoltan.
Behind him, Hamish rushed into the room, his arm no longer in a sling, having fully healed in the time since Zoltan had broken it.
“How could you?” he said, looking past her to Zoltan. “You shared your virta with a fucking demon?”
It was plain for all to see, so she didn’t deny it. “We’re bonded. You can’t touch him now.”
Hamish looked at Grayson. “Call the others. Tell them the search is off. And have them come back to the compound immediately.”
Grayson pulled out his cell and pressed a number, then talked quietly.
When Hamish made a few more steps into the room, Enya lifted her hand. “Stay the fuck where you are, Hamish.”
Zoltan pulled her toward him, shielding her naked body even further. “How about some privacy? As you can see, Enya isn’t dressed.”
The sound of his protective demand sent a shiver down her spine.
“Yeah, neither are you,” Hamish snapped, and narrowed his eyes. “So was that the plan, to seduce her, make her bond with you so you could destroy us from within? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He pointed to Enya. “Do you have any idea what punishment is waiting for Enya for bonding with a fucking demon?”
“He’s not a demon anymore,” Enya interrupted. “Look at his eyes. They’re brown now. They’ve turned.”
“They are?” Zoltan asked, looking at her.
“Oh, big deal. So he’s wearing colored contacts. I’m not falling for crap like that,” Hamish said.
“But it’s true. He’s not wearing contacts. His eyes turned after we bonded. He’s a Stealth Guardian again. It worked. What Wesley and Charles figured out worked. Don’t you see?”
“Wes and Charles know about this?” Hamish’s voice turned increasingly angry. “They advised you to bond with Zoltan? Well, let me just add them to my list of people to beat the shit out of.”
“They don’t know about the bonding. And they know nothing about Zoltan,” Enya said. “So pip
e down. If you would just shut up for a moment, I can explain.”
“Yeah, right. He’s not a Stealth Guardian. Don’t you see that? He’s got no aura. So whatever you two are playing at, I’m not buying it.”
Zoltan grunted and glared at Hamish. “So you wanted her for yourself, is that it? Is that why you’re so pissed? Well, you can’t have her. Enya is mine.” He put his arms around her to underscore his statement.
Hamish shook his head. “Enya and I? What the fuck gives you that idea? Enya is like a sister to me. And I don’t take it lightly when somebody hurts her.”
“And you’re implying that I’ll hurt her?” Zoltan’s chest seemed to expand. “I’d give my life for her and our child if it means they’ll be safe. So don’t—”
“Child?” Hamish gasped.
Grayson, his phone still pressed to his ear, said to the person he was talking to, “Hold on.” Then he stared at Enya. “You got knocked up by a demon? Oh fuck!”
“A little respect, if I may?” Enya snapped, then took Zoltan’s hand. “And if you must know, yes, I’m pregnant.”
“That’s bullshit. Just another trick so we won’t hurt him,” Hamish said. “You just bonded. You can’t be pregnant yet.”
Enya shrugged. “Maya confirmed it. She heard the baby’s heartbeat.”
Hamish motioned to Grayson.
“Well, in that case,” Grayson said, “I can confirm it too.” He started to walk closer. “My vampire hearing—”
“Not another step!” Zoltan growled. “Or it’ll be your last. Enya is still not dressed. And I’ll be damned if I let another man get any closer. Do I make myself clear?”
Grayson’s fangs extended, and his lips peeled back from his teeth.
“Put your fucking fangs away,” Enya ordered him. “Or I’ll put them away for you.”
With a growl, Grayson slowly allowed his fangs to recede.
“Now give us a few minutes to get dressed. Then we can talk. We’ll meet you in the great room.”
