“Now you’ve done it,” he said.
She didn’t need to ask him what he meant.
His skin was like butter beneath her fingertips. Though his arm was as hard and strong as any man’s, she seemed to melt into him. He absorbed her and let her out, like breathing, only when she sunk into him, it was like entering his world—a world of comfort and love. Like being enclosed within a feathery pod. Yet the sun shone there, the grass grew thick and green, and there was joy. So much joy.
Merryn laughed, the sound like the tinkling of bells, and he ran across a vast meadow, beckoning her to follow. She did, all the while in the back of her mind knowing she still stood in her house, simply touching his buttery skin.
When she caught up with him, he jostled her to the ground, pulling her on top of him. Buttercups shivered in the fresh spring breeze and his smile softened into something that looked like everlasting love.
“Be part of me,” he whispered into her mind. Suddenly she was aware of every nerve, every wisp of hair upon her body, each of them shivering like the buttercups, her skin buttery like his and then they were flying and tumbling on the breeze and all of forever was in his loving gaze and then, he said the words.
“Exquisite Ivy, you are my one. I’ve denied it too long. You are my mate.”
She gazed upon him and saw that he had great gossamer wings. They shone all the colors of the rainbow in the brilliant light of the sun. He carried her up, up, until the breeze took them, and they sped along, Ivy secure in his arms so that she felt unafraid. She closed her eyes and he kissed her lips and they spun, and spun, and she realized vaguely that their clothes were gone. The breeze, warm and perfect as it slid over her shoulders and arms, down her back, and along her legs, made her acutely aware of the heat between them where they were pressed together. Her breasts against his muscular chest was a sinful treat after so long.
As they continued to spin, as their tongues swirled in each other’s mouths, the force of their spin corkscrewed them against each other, their legs entangled and suddenly he filled her. The breadth of his cock indulged her every nerve, even more so than the fact that they were flying, actually flying, flat against the sky. Merryn’s wings beat rhythmically to the beat of her heart and his, which she felt against her chest. His tongue moved inside her mouth, matching the pulse of her contractions around him. He didn’t move, and the fullness, the mere presence of his cock inside her as she squeezed and released transcended pleasure.
He broke their kiss and his voice, deep and vibrant, said into her ear, “I had no idea this joining would be so excruciatingly delightful.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “This is love,” he exclaimed as they began again to spin and he grew inside her and began, finally, to move. Her hands pressed against his back between his wings as they beat more slowly, as they descended. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him tighter, straining to get all of him into her; she urged him on with her hips, basking in the overwhelming need to orgasm, until finally she felt the spongy and fragrant grass beneath her and he thrust into her, making all of her wishes come true. Ivy looked up at him, arched backwards, his face framed by his long blond hair and his wings—his wings spread out and sparkling in the sun, and she beheld his release. His cock expanded inside her and his seed was warm and abundant as she came and came again.
~~ * * * ~~
Ivy woke up in her bed. She rolled over, panicked for a moment that it had all been a dream, but there was Merryn beside her, his green eyes sparkling with bliss.
She lifted her head to look as she reached around to feel his back. “Did I dream you had wings?”
“No, it wasn’t a dream.” His expression dropped as if he’d suddenly realized something. “I want to stay. I don’t want to disappear from your side.”
“Is there no way you can get word to Gruffydd?”
“No. Even if I could, he’d probably call me back anyway.”
“Maybe he’ll send you back. Will you want to come back?”
“Of course. I belong with you. But I mustn’t be selfish. If he refuses to send me back, and he probably will, you must marry your Dirk.”
Ivy shook her head. “I can’t. Not after what we’ve shared. I feel it too. I love you, Merryn.”
“I love you too, my precious Ivy.”
She leaned in for a lingering kiss.
He broke it off and said. “Just in case he lets me come back, I need to know where we are. Where you live. Otherwise, I may never find you again.”
Ivy smiled. “We’re in S—”
And he disappeared.
Chapter Nine
The Starved
Merryn blinked and the next thing he knew, he lay on the floor in Gruffydd’s kitchen. Momentarily seduced by the scent of fresh oranges, he came to his senses and leaped to his feet.
“What did you do?” he cried at the pixie before him. Gruffydd only came to Merryn’s waist, so he bent to stare into his face.
“I thought you’d been punished long enough,” the little pixie said as he popped a slice of orange into his mouth.
Merryn was hugged from behind; he turned to find Vennyn.
“You’ve been gone so long!” she said, her face muffled as she pressed it against his naked back. He felt himself slipping into what passed for love in his world and he pulled her arms from around him and stood to the side.
“You have to send me back,” Merryn said to Gruffydd.
He shrugged. “Whatever for?”
“I found love!”
Both pixies gasped.
“That can’t be a good thing,” Vennyn said to Gruffydd.
“No, it can’t,” he agreed. “Humans and pixies can’t have love. Not if the pixie doesn’t want to be exiled.”
“I’ll take being exiled over leaving her.”
“No,” Gruffydd said.
The next thing Merryn knew, he was in his own home. Alone.
~~ * * * ~~
A month of pestering passed before Gruffydd even began to wear down enough to ask Merryn where he’d been. Of course, he only knew it was in North America and it started with an “S.” But Gruffydd did nothing.
Five torturous years later, Gruffydd began sending Merryn out to see if he could recognize anything. They began in alphabetical order. Merryn could only handle one place every week, so more years of misery passed. He refused to join in any of the activities his brothers and sisters, friends and former lovers played at. When he was home, he stayed alone, daydreaming of his divine Ivy.
Fifty years of this found Merryn unchanged. Vennyn tried to convince him that he should give up.
“Seeing you torture yourself this way, Merryn … You’ve ceased to live.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know in my heart that she’s still out there, whether she’s waiting for me or not.”
“But she’ll be in her 90s. For a human, that is very old.”
“I will still love her,” Merryn said. “She will still be my resplendent Ivy.”
When Vennyn saw there was no convincing him, she relented. “When you get to the end of places that begin with “S,” what will you do?”
“Start again with “F.” Maybe I misheard.”
There were so few places left to go.
~~ * * * ~~
Merryn’s first thought when the light room he’d left turned to pitch-black was that the ground beneath him was dirt. It smelled like home, but there was also the faint odor of sulfur and marijuana. He knew at once that he’d arrived.
Rushing out of the cave, he found the light of a new morning. He headed toward the scent of horses, wondering if Ivy still lived or if he’d be greeted by hers and Dirk’s children, or strangers who had bought her house. He didn’t know which would be worse.
But nothing seemed different. Merryn was on his way to the barn when a woman stepped out the front door of the house.
“Ivy?” he asked, not believing his eyes.
“You came back!” she said, running to him with he
r arms outstretched.
She bowled into him, almost knocking him to the ground and he smelled her sweet Ivy scent. “You … you haven’t changed. How can you not have changed?”
“Of course I’ve changed. I got dressed.”
Merryn held her at arms’ length and studied her.
His breathtaking Ivy went on. “You’ve only been gone an hour.”
“I’ve been gone more than fifty years. Fifty long, torturous years of missing you, of hungering for you; fifty years of emptiness and longing.”
“Oh my God,” she said, tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He brushed her tears away with his thumbs.
“Don’t cry for me, love. Be happy with me that I’m back. Please. Because I’ll be exiled now. Tell me, quickly. Do you want me? Because I’ll disappear very soon, but this time I’ll be back. Right away. If you’ll have me.”
“Yes, Merryn. Yes. I want to spend the rest of my days with you.”
“I love you, my tender Ivy.”
“I lo—”
~~ * * * ~~
“I found her!” he said to Gruffydd, not ten seconds later.
“Finally!” the little pixie grunted. “Do you have time for a farewell drink before you go back?”
Merryn hesitated. He knew Ivy wouldn’t miss him for more than a few seconds, even if he stayed a week. And he knew he should do that … Transporting back and forth left him tired.
“I’ll stay the night,” he said.
And so Merryn partied one more time with his friends. They drank, they laughed, they danced, but there was no lovemaking, not even pixie-style. He’d waited for that for more than fifty years. He could wait one more night.
All night long his fellow pixies raised their glasses to him, happy for him that he’d found his mate, but sad because they would never see him again. Vennyn, most of all.
Chapter Ten
The Contented
One second Merryn stood there, happy as could be, and five minutes later she saw him wandering up the laneway looking tired, staggering a bit, naked, but smiling nonetheless. She’d had enough time to call Dirk to say thanks but no thanks. He seemed more angry than sad—she didn’t look forward to the next time she’d encounter him, but at least she’d have Merryn by her side.
Unlike the first time she’d seen him, she didn’t hesitate to stare at all of him, from his long blond hair, to his beautiful sparkling green eyes, down his toned torso, to his semi-hard cock.
“Most of you looks tired, but the rest …” She reached out for him and he folded her in a comforting embrace.
He pressed himself against her and said in her ear, “That part of me has missed you every bit as much as my heart has.” He looked at her; his eyes were no longer bright. “The question is, how will I live if I must live so much longer than you?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. You said that pixies do eventually die of old age. If an hour here is fifty years in your world, surely we’ll grow old together.”
He smiled. “That makes my heart very glad, my beautiful Ivy.”
“Let’s get you home and into some clothes,” she said.
“But first, let’s get you out of yours.”
Ivy took him by the hand and together they entered their home.
~*The End*~
For all the beautiful long-haired men in the world. Step away from the scissors!
~LGH
~~ * * * ~~
About the Author
Linda G. Hill has been writing out-of-this world romance stories since she was a child. Living vicariously through the characters in her head, she’s experienced the kinds of love that mortals only dream of. In reality, she’s just a mom, an author, an editor, and a couch potato if there ever was one.
Linda’s published works include the award-winning Gothic paranormal romance novel The Magician’s Curse, and its sequel, The Magician’s Blood, as well as All Good Stories, a romcom novelette, and several short stories published by Transmundane Press and The Phoenix Quill.
You can find Linda at the following:
Website: lindaghill.com
Facebook: lindaghill.fiction
Twitter: @LindaGHill
Acknowledgments
To Milly who took charge from the very beginning - a one-woman selection committee;
To all the authors from OSRBC Writing Group who pitched their incredible stories;
To Francesca of Merry Book-Round, for our fantastic cover, 3D mock-ups, and banners;
To Milly, Linda, and Raine, for editing, editing, proofreading, and proofreading the stories, blurbs, and bios;
To Allegra, Lorey, and Sera who designed sensational promo graphics;
To Alexis-Morgan, for taking on the promo blitz and marketing responsibilities as a gift to us;
To Eva, Cheryl, and Sarah, for the support from the mother group OSRBC;
THANK YOU.
And to you, Dear Readers, we created this collection for you. We hope you enjoy.
Maida Malby
EOT Publications
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