How to Worship a Goddess

by Stephanie Julian

  “You can’t hurt me. I need you to do me hard and fast. Now.”

  Through the haze of sickness and her burning desire, she heard him swear under his breath and, for a second, she thought he might pull away. That she’d frightened him with the strength of her desire.

  “Open your eyes, Lucy. Come on, baby. Look at me.”

  No, she didn’t want him to see the madness in her eyes. She needed him to fuck her, and if he even suspected… But she couldn’t not obey the command in his voice.

  She opened her eyes and immediately lost herself in the glittering darkness of his. So warm, so mesmerizing. So damn masculine. She leaned forward and let her tongue flick out to graze his jaw and the throbbing muscle at the side. Spicy hot.

  “Brandon, please.”

  She let one hand drift down his back to his ass, where she grabbed a handful and squeezed. The firm muscles clenched and flexed, and when she moved her hands between his legs to scratch her nails along the tight pouch of his balls, she felt his skin go slick with sweat.

  “I need you to fuck me. Bend me over and take me. I need it now. Please.”

  She knew she was begging and she didn’t care. All that mattered was that he made her come. Preferably soon. Before the madness took over and she really hurt him.

  Blessed Mother Goddess, please don’t let me hurt him.

  She knew she was close to that edge, where desire became fury. She’d only been in that place once before and she’d sworn never to be there again. She’d been sloppy last night, forgetting to cover the windows. She couldn’t be sloppy.

  “Lucy—” He groaned as she let her other hand curve around his cock and squeeze. “Oh, fuck.”

  “Now. Hard. Brand—”

  He lifted and twisted her, until she was facing away from him. For a few brief seconds, he held her back against his chest as one hand pinched and kneaded her breast and the other slid between her thighs.

  His breath left his lungs in a rush as he felt the slickness of her lower lips and she nearly came when he thrust two fingers into her sex.

  “Yes. Oh Gods, yes.”

  The thickness filled her, stretched her. The scrape of rough skin against delicate inner tissue made her eyes close as lightning-hot flashes of sensation shot from her pussy to her womb.

  She clenched around him, trying to pull him deeper.

  “Fuck, Lucy. You’re tight.”

  “For you. Only for you.”

  He withdrew in a rush, causing her to sob out a denial and reach for his hand to make him fuck her with his fingers.

  Before she could, he caught both of her wrists and pulled them away from her body just as he thrust into her again, harder this time.

  Yes.

  She arched her back, trying to move her hips but he withdrew his fingers completely.

  “No, Brandon. Godsdamnit, fuck me.”

  “Christ, Lucy, you gotta… Bend over. Now.”

  She barely understood his words but she knew what he wanted as he pulled her wrists down. She bent until her cheek hit the mattress, her ass at the perfect position. She wiggled her hips, felt his cock brush against her ass cheeks before it settled in the valley between her cheeks.

  Her pussy pulsed with need as his heated shaft rubbed against her. The smooth skin of his cock contrasted with the wiry brush of the hair on his thighs and between his legs.

  Then it was gone and cool air caressed her ass where only a second ago there’d been heat.

  She practically growled at the loss but in the next second, she felt him move into position. The head of his cock pierced her lips and, with a heavy thrust, he sank deep.

  Crying out at the luscious fullness, she pressed back, wanting even more. But his hands gripped her hips in a vise so tight, she couldn’t move without using excessive force. And truth be told, she liked it too much.

  She liked the bite of pain as his fingers dug into her hips, the dragging friction as he pulled out and then heaved back in.

  She let herself be taken, let Brandon fuck her hard and fast as she laid there and took it. Her pussy tightened with each thrust, her orgasm gathering with a strength she craved and feared. If it got to be too much, she could hurt Brandon when she came. She’d done it before, though not for centuries.

  She tried to rein back some of that passion now.

  “Oh, no fucking way.” Brandon’s voice rasped through her control, breaking the thin strings she’d been holding onto. “I want you to explode. I want you out of control, just like you’ve made me.”

  “Can’t—”

  “Fuck that.” He withdrew then slammed into her again, deeper, thicker. Enough to make her lose her mind. “Come, Lucy.”

  No, she couldn’t. She didn’t want— He smacked the side of her ass with his open palm, hard enough to make her flinch… and explode.

  Her orgasm hit her so hard, her back bowed and her vision went hazy, tinged with red. Her pussy rippled and contracted around his cock, sucking him in, milking his response. He held on for a minute at least, fucking her through the orgasm until he groaned and began hammering into her, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.

  She didn’t know how she managed to keep her legs from collapsing under her, how she kept her ass in the air. Probably because Brandon held her and wouldn’t let her fall.

  Hot jets of cum bathed her channel as her body sank into the aftermath. Afterglow, hell. She still burned like a ten-alarm fire but it wasn’t painful. No, she was sated. But… she still wanted more. Was afraid she might always.

  After a minute or so, Brandon groaned, wrapped his arms around her waist and maneuvered them onto their sides, his cock still thick enough not to slip out.

  They lay there, both of them trying to catch their breath. Surprisingly, Brandon seemed to rouse first. He stroked a lazy hand along her hip before he propped himself up on an elbow and pressed a long, hot kiss to her neck.

  And she realized the heat she continued to feel was the sun sickness as it burned off. She blew out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t lost control. She hadn’t torn him to shreds in the throes of madness. No, he’d fucked her into complacency. Wow. Just… wow.

  “Lucy, not that I’m complaining, but are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  She bit back a laugh, knowing he wouldn’t understand why she’d done it.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me and, yes, I’m fine.” Now. “I forgot to close the shades last night. I have an intolerance of the sun.”

  “So it wasn’t anything that blue-skinned freak did to you. Jesus, I was so worried—”

  Lucy’s eyes popped wide as she scrambled around on the bed to face Brandon. “What? What are you talking about?”

  Brandon’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Damn, you really slept through the whole thing, fight and all? You were out harder than I thought.”

  She felt all the blood rush to her head and actually thought she might pass out.

  “Did it hurt you? Did it bite you?”

  Vaffanculo, she reached for him, running her hands over his body, searching for even the slightest scratch. The tukhulkha demon injected poison through its teeth. One bite…

  Blessed Goddess. She searched but couldn’t seem to find any bite marks.

  She did note his swollen knuckles and the beginning of a bruise on his cheekbone. The damn sickness had caused her to miss those before.

  “What happened? How did it get in? Why did it leave? What did it want?”

  “Whoa, slow down, babe.” He grabbed both of her hands in his and held on. The firm pressure caused some of her anxiety to lessen. But only by a little. “It’s gone now. Turned tail and ran, if you can believe that. I’m fine. Everything will be okay. Just tell me what that thing was.”

  Lucy couldn’t stop continuing to check him for injuries. “I can’t believe a tukhulkha demon got in here without my knowing. I can’t believe I forgot to close the shades.”

  Her hands shook as she ran them over Brandon’s face and down to his shoulder
s until he sat up, gathered her into his arms and held onto her.

  “Yeah, we were a little focused on other things last night.”

  She wanted to laugh but couldn’t force the sound through her vocal cords.

  “A little focused” was putting it mildly. She’d been so wrapped up in him, she’d forgotten one of her most basic routines.

  And this morning, a demon had gotten through her wards to infiltrate her home.

  Something that felt a lot like fear slid through her, chilling that afterglow down to nothing.

  “Look.” Brandon nipped her earlobe. “You rest for a while. I’ll throw some things in a bag and you’ll come stay with me for a little.”

  Shock made her mouth drop open as she turned in his arms. How could he even think—

  “No. Absolutely not, Brandon. I’m not going anywhere with you. And you can’t be anywhere near me. That demon found me here. It got through my wards and my wards are not insignificant. It will find me no matter where I go.”

  She should’ve known he wouldn’t take that well. His entire body stiffened against her, and that strong jaw clenched.

  “Hey, babe.” His voice deepened to the point she could almost imagine it was a growl. “You might have slept through it but I went head-to-head with that thing and I’m still here. But that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot who wants to hang around to get my ass kicked in round two. And no offense, but you’re not exactly well hidden out here. That demon doesn’t know who the hell I am. It won’t know where to look for you if you come with me.”

  Could he be right?

  She’d had no dreams, like Tessa had had. Charun had had to search for Tessa and only when she got weak was the god able to find her.

  And Brandon was right. The location of her home was no secret. All lucani knew where to find her, as did the streghe and the Fata.

  But what if the demon came after her wolves or her sons? She couldn’t protect them if she wasn’t there. She could warn the boys, tell them to lay low. She had no doubt Ty could take care of himself. She’d tell Caeles to hole up with the Downbelow band in the city. And she would stay with Brandon and keep an eye on him.

  Before she could open her mouth to agree, he stood, set her on the bed and looked down at her. “Where’s your overnight bag and your underwear drawer?”

  Chapter 6

  Lucy still wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but she had to admit the closer they got to his home, the more safe she felt by his side.

  And the more curious she became about the man driving this ancient behemoth of a truck. Brandon called it a classic. She wondered what he’d say if she reminded him that she’d been around when Ford had introduced the first mass-produced car. As a matter of fact, she’d owned one, fresh off the assembly line. Probably best not to bring that up at the moment.

  Luckily, the huge black truck appeared to run well, and the inside was spotless and boasted a radio that wasn’t even a dream when this car was two decades old.

  Apparently they shared a love of satellite radio. But not stations. He’d chosen classic rock. Meaning anything from the ’70s and ’80s. She tuned hers to the music of the 1940s. Or Sinatra. The man had a golden voice.

  What else would she learn about him? She wanted to know everything.

  And yes, she knew she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t be so interested in an eteri. Shouldn’t want to spend so much time with him. Shouldn’t be putting him in this kind of danger. Which just proved she was still in shock after her bout with sun sickness and learning about the demon, or she never would’ve agreed to come stay at his apartment with him.

  Fifteen minutes after packing her bag, Brandon had bundled her into his truck—the tinted windows affording her relief from the sunlight—then driven her back to the borough of Mount Penn, just outside the city of Reading. He’d parked behind a large older building, not very far from Salvatorus’s home. The goat-legged salbinelli ran a safe house for Etruscans in the city. If anything happened while she was here, she knew Sal wouldn’t be far away.

  “The door’s just over there.” Brandon pointed at the set of two plain steel doors. “I live on the ground floor. The neighbors are pretty quiet. And they’re nice too. Mrs. Finegan, my neighbor, is probably at church and the Monteiths upstairs don’t get up until around noon on Sundays. They’re young. They like to party.” He grinned, as if he was remembering one of those parties. “The Salingers left Friday to visit their daughter in Connecticut.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “A few weeks after I signed, I found the listing in the paper. Got sick of living in a hotel and, since I knew I probably wasn’t going to be called up anytime soon, I figured I’d find a place I liked. Not just something convenient.”

  With that in mind, she looked at the building again. It’d begun life as a two-family home, probably built sometime in the ’40s or ’50s. But it’d been carved into four apartments sometime in its past. The building looked exotic, she decided, with its ornate arched windows and stucco facade. She wondered if the building’s appearance had been part of its appeal.

  “Well, come on then. Let’s get you inside while I don’t see anyone.”

  Brandon slid out of the truck then made his way to her side. After he’d made sure her bloodred hooded cape completely covered every inch of her skin, he picked her up and carried her to the door. She thought about protesting. But she liked it too much.

  And he had no trouble carrying her and her bag at the same time. Made her want to sigh in abject devotion.

  Once he had the door open, he set her down in a hallway that split the building in half and stuck his key in the only door on the left side. Another door on the opposite side sat further down the hall.

  Standing there waiting for him to open the door, she felt a slight tug of magic against her own. It wasn’t unusual for old buildings to retain traces of a former resident’s energy. And since Reading had a larger-than-normal population of magical beings, the fact that there was magic here didn’t surprise her.

  Still, when Brand swung open the door, the strength of the energy increased.

  Waving her through, he followed close behind, carrying her bag. His bulk made her feel protected, cherished. Safe. Even though she knew he shouldn’t have been able to beat off that demon. What the hell had happened in her bedroom before she’d awakened?

  Whatever it was, she couldn’t believe she’d slept through it. Or that she’d been so stupid as to forget to close the shades and had practically torn into Brandon afterward.

  Then to let Brandon hustle her out of her home and into his… She was obviously rattled and she didn’t rattle easily.

  “Sit on the couch, babe. I’ll be right back.”

  Brandon walked down the short hall to the left and through the door at the end, leaving her to look around.

  He’d obviously rented the apartment furnished because everything was beige—beige sofa and chair that practically disappeared into the beige walls and beige carpet in the living room to the right of the entry. Oak end table and coffee table added a little color but matched the dinette set behind the small kitchenette to the right of the door.

  The personal touches around the room helped save it from being bland. Framed pictures on the side tables, and books. Lots of books. Brandon obviously liked mysteries and thrillers.

  A huge television consumed almost one whole wall in front of the TV, and he had an Xbox and a Wii. A library of games and movies any video store would kill for filled the bookshelves on either side of the TV.

  And then there were the hockey sticks.

  They occupied two corners of the room. There had to be at least twenty of them. Just the sight of them made her smile. She walked over to examine them, noticing they all had tape with a date on the shaft. Milestones, she guessed. There was also a collection of pucks in a basket on the floor, also dated. She’d just begun to take off her cloak when Brand walked back into the room. And set her heart pounding.

  What was
it about this man?

  He was handsome, no doubt about it, but it wasn’t just his looks. There was just something about him, something indefinable. And that smile…

  “Yeah, I know, it’s a guy cave. Sorry. My parents haven’t been able to visit lately or it’d be neater. But it’s clean. I’m not a complete slob. My mother made sure I knew how to work a vacuum and a dust rag.” He put an arm around her and drew her over to the couch before sitting and settling her on his lap. She let him tuck her head under his chin. “So, you want to tell me about this problem you have with the sun?”

  She sighed, knowing every piece of information she gave him would make it that much harder to wipe his memories later.

  If you even can.

  She knew she was coming close to the point of no return with Brandon. At a certain point, not even the most experienced strega could completely erase an eteri mind because those memories became embedded. Ripping them out meant damaging those parts of the brain.

  So what are you going to do?

  “I call it sun sickness. As a moon goddess, I harness the power of the moon. The moon reflects the light of the sun, so my power is tied to the sun, but when I’m exposed to the full power of the sun, it’s an overload. It leaves me vulnerable.”

  “And that’s what happened this morning?”

  “Yes. It had nothing to do with the demon.” She pulled away to look up into his serious dark eyes. “I want you to tell me exactly what it said, Brandon. Tukhulkha demons aren’t known for backing down from their prey.”

  Brandon sighed. “It said I’m not exactly who—no, it said what I think I am. What the hell did it mean?”

  Lucy thought about that for a moment, thought about the energy she’d felt when they’d arrived here. “I’m not really sure, but it could mean the demon sees something in you, a hidden trait or the trace of a magical ancestor you didn’t know you had.”

  His eyebrows lifted nearly to his scalp. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, not at all. Many seemingly normal people have traces of the ancient magical races in their blood. Most of them don’t have any power at all. Some have an affinity for animals, for nature, but they can’t control the elements. That doesn’t explain why the demon would run without engaging you, though.”