When she couldn’t finish the sentence, Roark completed it for her. “Leprechaun term? Yes, it is. Fitting, don’t you think, since I am a leprechaun born, raised and proud of it.”
“Oh shit,” she repeated aloud this time. “I thought your race was cursed since you pissed off Maeve.”
“Oh she’s still pissed. No one can hold a grudge like the Queen of the Fae, even though fate had another mate selected for the male she wanted.” His answer came easy, words tripping off his tongue even as his light accent disappeared.
“Will she have an issue with you finding your…ah…Liaria?” The last thing Calder wanted or needed was to have the Queen of all Fae after her ass for breaking some law she didn’t even know she was breaking.
“No,” Roark laughed softly. “Maeve long ago stopped torturing my people for the perceived fault of one of our own. So long as the world at large still believes us short, bearded old people with nothing more on our minds but gold, rainbows and cobbling shoes, she leaves us alone.”
“This is very…well, weird. My mate is supposed to turn furry and rip heads off innocent but delicious deer. He’s not supposed to follow shiny objects for days at a time while tricking ignorant humans with fool’s gold.” Goddess, she’d be mated to the equivalent of a ten-year-old with ADD. What had she done so bad in a previous life to deserve this?
Strong, calloused hands clasped her own. “I’m over five-hundred years old, Calder. I’m not prone to childish games or gestures any longer. My time is spent overlooking my investments, visiting family, traveling when the whim takes me and dreaming of the day I’d meet you.”
Damn, did the leprechauns have some pheromone she didn’t know about? Everything about him appealed to woman and cat in her. Strength, honesty and blatant sexual hunger burned in his gaze.
“I’m a serious meat-eater,” she threw out, hoping to tame the wildfire burning in his eyes. “I’m talking really rare as in my food might still be kicking.”
“I’ll be sure to keep wet wipes in my pocket.” He used his hold on her hands to pull Calder closer. Bare inches separated them before she remembered to speak.
“I don’t do morning anything. There’s such a thing as being too close and sharing your morning breath is way past my comfort zone.”
Instead of agreeing with her completely sensible rule, Roark burst out laughing, evaporating any tension, sexual or otherwise, clouding the room and their thoughts. “You say pretty much whatever pops into that beautiful head, don’t you?”
Since he didn’t sound upset or even mildly annoyed, Calder nodded. “Felines aren’t known for their restraint. We see something we want and we go after it. The same applies to our thought process. We think it then speak it. Really no censoring involved.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, closing the last few inches separating them. “I believe I can learn to love that about you.”
“The morning breath is a deal breaker.” She whispered the words against his lips, both enjoying and hating the anticipation building between them.
“I’ll see what I can come up with to prevent such a catastrophe as I’m sure I’ll desire you as much in the morning light as I do in the night.”
“Enough teasing,” she growled and slipped a hand around his neck to pull his head down.
Lighting struck her senses with the first touch and taste of his full lips. They were warm, shockingly soft for such a strong, solid man. His taste exploded through her senses, better than a full bowl of sweet cream. Calder could get drunk on his flavor alone. When his tongue pressed the seam of her lips, demanding entrance, she eagerly opened for him. At the first fiery touch they both exhaled then Roark took her, sank into her mouth, tongue probing deep, stroking and inciting.
She tugged him closer, wanting to banish even the smallest distance between them. She could simply sink into him and his kisses, they drugged her in a way she’d never experienced before. The long, languid strokes of his hand on her covered breast mimicked his tongue in her mouth. He lifted his head for a second then moved in deeper, tongue diving into her mouth, seducing her further with each stroke.
Without quite being aware of it, they somehow moved together until they ended up on the thick carpet in front of the fire. The embrace brought her close to him, so close her breasts touched the soft material of his shirt. There was no need for more words. Their bodies understood what nature demanded.
She was the one who initiated the kiss, but Roark took control of it immediately, one arm holding her tightly to him, the hand at the back of her head holding her steady for his plundering kiss. Her breasts were crushed against his hard chest and she wanted to feel the bare skin of him warming her flesh.
Quick as a thought, Calder partially shifted one hand, her gleaming claws breaking out long enough to carefully slice through the thin material. Returning her hand to normal, she broke the kiss long enough to pull back and yank the ruined shirt from his chest.
“Like to play, do you, kitten?” he asked before whispering some lyrical words in a low tone. Seconds later her own t-shirt disappeared along with her white cotton bra. “Just remember, I like an even playing field.”
Then he pulled her close again, the wiry hairs on his chest delicately stroking the hardened tips of her breasts. Her clit thumped in arousal, moisture pooling between her thighs.
Their mouths met again, clung, the kiss long and passionate as they learned each other at the most basic level. Each stroke of his tongue pushed her desire higher, made her thighs quiver and her hands shake as she clutched his firm shoulders.
A hand at the small of her back slid around her waist to drift over her exposed belly. She tensed briefly, as any shifter would do. The soft underbelly was a vulnerability any animal did their best to shield, but this was Roark, her mate. So Calder forced herself to relax. Her actions were rewarded when his hand moved from her waist to the waistband of her jeans.
Mouths separated long enough for Roark to mumble more of his magic words. Her pants disappeared as she expected along with her underwear, so there was nothing to buffer the full impact of his intimate touch. Lighting struck. She gasped for breath as a finger slowly circled over her clit. She was wet with need as her hips followed his every movement.
“You’re like wet silk,” he said, keeping his touch light even as he stroked her labia, gently circling her eager opening.
“Need you,” she panted, pushing her hips harder into his too gentle strokes.
“No,” he argued, voice low and raspy as he watched his fingers torture her. “Our first time will not be rough and rushed. I want to take my time. To love you properly.”
Another finger teased her empty body and her control broke. She didn’t give Roark time to react as she unsheathed her claws and ripped the jeans from his body.
Calder offered up a quick prayer of thanks to the goddess for his lack of underwear even as she moved to stroke and cup his large, pulsing erection.
“Shit, Calder, wait, woman. I want to taste you, tongue-fuck you. I’ll hurt you if you don’t come first.”
Holding his monster cock in her hand, she could see where he was coming from. She couldn’t wrap her fingers around the width of him so Roark probably had a point, but she wasn’t in the mood to wait for what he wanted. Later she’d let him tongue her to orgasm, but now she wanted his cock deep inside her.
“Make me come, then fuck me,” she ordered even as she rode his fingers.
His touch, no longer light or teasing, stroked her swollen clit. His calluses were rough, lending the right amount of painful pleasure to his touch. She loved it. His hand picked up speed and her hips writhed to his rhythm. Somehow he knew exactly where to touch and the exact pressure she needed. The muscles in her thighs protested and her stomach clenched as her body shattered. She cried out, convulsing around his fingers.
Her body still shook with the internal ripples of a truly outstanding orgasm when Roark lifted her off him. She whimpered at the loss of his fingers.
“No
w, Calder,” Roark said, his voice low and raspy. In mere seconds he was sheathed in a condom. He opened her completely with two fingers, holding her open as he thrust inside, the movement fast and hard. He shoved in to the hilt, so deep in her she could feel the hairs around his pubic bone brush against the softness of her sensitive flesh.
“Roark!”
“Fuck, you’re tight. So sweet…ahh, don’t move.”
She couldn’t help it. She needed to move, had to move even as her inner muscles clenched around the strong, thick column splitting her in two.
Silently they watched each other, their breaths mingling as easily as their bodies joined.
“Ready now?” His breath came fast while his pupils narrowed down to small black pinpricks in a sea of green.
“Move,” she demanded, wrapping her legs around his waist, determined to get him moving before her brain exploded. Just as the contractions from her first orgasm started to fade, Roark moved, unhurriedly at first. The leisurely drag of his swollen flesh pulling out sparked nerve endings to life Calder never knew existed.
Gently he circled his hips, stretching her to accommodate his larger than normal size. Then there were several shallow thrusts upward. And Calder saw stars as he managed to reach some spot in her that had her body bowing. Each following drive set off sparks of pleasure. His movements strung out her contractions.
“Goddess, how responsive you are. That’s it, love, keep squeezing me.”
She couldn’t do anything to stop her body from fighting to keep his cock deep inside her. With every passing second the fireworks grew, intensified as her breath sawed in and out, her heart pounded, her entire body stiffened as Roark’s movements sped up.
His strokes were sharp and firm, big hands held her still as he plowed into her with determined force. Time lost all meaning as Calder fell into a maelstrom of pleasure more intense than she’d ever experienced. It went on forever yet ended too soon. His movements were rigid, almost violent, on the edge of being painful, but somehow flaming her need higher.
She glanced up at her lover’s expression, his face grim as he moved in and out of her, thrusting fast and deep. Their eyes met and she was lost in his glowing green depths.
No one had ever fucked her this thoroughly before, touched every secret part of her, parts she hadn’t known existed. A low growl filled the room and Calder knew her beast was close to the surface, wanting to bite and claim their mate, but she forced the cat back. No biting until she knew the man currently owning her body.
Roark gave an almost violent plunge that arched her back and had her clamping down hard as climax tore through her, breaking her down to the most basic level of her being. Vaguely in the back of her mind she was aware of Roark’s grunting and the feel of his hot seed filling not her, but the latex barrier separating them. For a moment, just a split second, she resented the condom, but there was time later to enjoy the feel of Roark spilling himself, scalding hot inside her.
Meanwhile his thrusts lost their smooth movements and he hammered into her like a desperate man as he huffed in and out. The pulse beat rapidly in his neck even as his jerky movements slowed to a stop.
Still half stiff inside her, Roark rolled them until she lay on top of his sweat-dampened chest. His arms rose to encircle her in a cherished embrace.
“You’ll be the death of me, but what a marvelous way to go,” he panted out as she dropped her head to his shoulder.
“I couldn’t agree more,” she muttered, not bothering to lift her head. “But first I think someone needs to call the medics. My legs are paralyzed and I can’t feel my brain.”
She felt his smile against the sensitive skin of her temple. “You can’t feel your brain on a good day.”
“Cher, I’m a woman. I can feel everything. Since you’re a man you have no idea what I’m talking about. Your job is to lie there looking pretty until I’m ready for you to service me again.”
She felt a stinging slap to her bare ass then Roark’s large palm rubbed the hurt away. “How you can even think right now?”
“Again, I’m a female. We’re capable of all manner of great things of which men know nothing.” How nice it was to lie here, the fire warming her back while her mate heated her front. She’d never thought of mating in these terms, more of a working partnership than the sensuality of lovers. Despite the fact she’d been wrong, Calder liked it.
“Fine, then I’ll let you, oh magic-less one, carry me to bed so you can ravish me all over again.” His eyes were closed and his breathing evening out as he spoke of moving.
Giving in to the urge to stroke the jet-black strands of hair from his eyes, Calder smiled down at him. “Hmm, was it me ravishing you or the other way around?” she teased, her cat delighted in the playful aspect of their mate.
“Hmm,” he sighed then blinked long black lashes open. “Can we agree that we ravished each other?”
“It’s a deal.”
“Good.” He sat up, his movements causing his cock to push deeper inside her already wet depths. Naturally her body responded by clamping down on the delicious length inside her.
“Yum, dessert.” She licked her lips, knowing how very catlike it made her look and not caring.
“Give us a second, love,” he said, then more low, Gallic-sounding words spilled from his kiss-swollen lips. An instant later she felt the change deep inside her.
“You switched out the condom?” How awesome was magic? No more pulling out to change the rubber. They could fuck all night without ever having to separate their bodies.
“Yes. I didn’t want to risk my pretty face in case you developed a dislike of separating from my cock.”
“Good thinking,” she praised him then leaned the scant inches down to kiss him. “We’ll have all night to play with that bit of magic.”
He stiffened harder inside her, but his words belied his actions. “Just be sure to put something manly on my tombstone, love. Like, he died in service of his mate.”
She was still laughing when he flipped them around and took her over for the third time.
Chapter Four
Waking to sunshine and the warmth of fur startled Roark for seconds before his brain kicked in. Without the benefit of coffee it took precious moments before his sleep-muddled mind clicked the pieces together.
Carefully he eased into a sitting position, wanting to do nothing to disturb the slumbering lioness currently drooling on his stomach.
“What the feck?” From holding a beautiful woman in his arms as he slept to waking with a deadly predator purring and making biscuits on his bare thigh. Told this story by someone else, Roark would laugh his Irish ass off, but considering it came from his mate, he found little humor in the situation.
“Nob,” he called out as softly as possible, praying the little brownie would hear and come running.
“Ye bellowed?”
“Oh good goddess, it’s too early in the morning to deal with your fashion-challenged self.” He whimpered and covered his eyes, hoping to keep the small elf’s fashion choice from burning his retinas.
Day-Glo orange t-shirt clashed marvelously with puke-green dyed denim. A polka dot scarf of various dirt-colored dots had been merrily tied around his tiny neck. One neon child’s size hiking boot tapped impatiently as Roark did his best to wipe the fashion disaster from his mind.
Carefully, mindful of the disaster awaiting his poor abused eyeballs, Roark cracked one lid open.
“Bah.” Nob waved a hand down his body. “Ye know nothing of today’s styles, ye mongrel. Now besides insulting me, what did ye call me for?”
Roark waved at his lap, unable to understand why Nob couldn’t comprehend the problem all on his own. Maybe his clothes blinded him to anything outside his own sphere? “Have you noticed anything different?” He pointedly looked down at his lap where very sharp feline teeth rested way too close to his pride and joy.
Nob crossed the room at brownie speed, his dark nut-brown forehead wrinkled as he took in the sc
ene before him. “What did ya do?”
The accusation took a few moments to sink in as Roark fully expected his house brownie to defend Roark and his family jewels. Instead the pesky creature stood looking at him, a full-grown leprechaun with extraordinary powers, with disappointment.
“I gave her unimaginable pleasure the likes of which I’m sure will never be matched.” He didn’t mention the astounding pleasure he’d received in return. No need to get sentimental in front of the being who had changed his nappies. “Though it does nothing to explain why I have this,” he waved a hand to where his cock rested, soft and defenseless against the giant predator snoring above it.
“Aye, ye must have done something ta screw things up. Ya always do.” Nob backed away, wringing his hands in a way that sped up Roark’s heartbeat.
“I’ve been asleep for the past couple of hours. What could I have possibly done to warrant this?”
“Don’t know, but her cat knows she can’t trust you. Until she falls asleep and stays human in your arms for the entire night you’ll never really have her. Or at least that’s the legend among their kind.” Those violet eyes holding the wisdom of centuries caught and held his own green gaze. “You fix this, young man. None of your tricks or half-assed attempts to partially do the work. She’s not a woman who just happens to turn into a cat. She’s a complicated mix of feline and female. You’ve been blessed more than you deserve.” Then the brownie threw down the worst threat Roark could ever imagine. “If you don’t get this settled within the next forty-eight hours I’ll call your parents home from their cruise of the Fae plane. Your mother will not stand for your selfish nonsense either.”
“You know, instead of threatening me with the fury of my mother’s wrath, maybe you could offer some constructive advice. I am over five hundred, much too old to be threatened like some babe barely out of short pants,” he protested while slowly inching away from the heated lion’s breath tickling his ever shrinking balls.
GettingLuckyinGalway Page 5
