Arcane Heart (Talents Book 2)

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Arcane Heart (Talents Book 2) Page 25

by Angela Knight


  Erica tried to throw him off, but the enormous bag was full of memory foam beads, and she couldn’t get any leverage. Between its enveloping softness and Jake’s massive everything, she found herself pinned facedown, giggling helplessly as he wrapped the belt around her wrists and buckled it.

  Then he jerked upright to throw both arms in the air in triumph. “And that’s how I won the calf roping contest.”

  “Calf roping?” Lifting her head off the bag, Erica aimed a mock glare at him over one shoulder. “Really?”

  “Wanna see my buckle?”

  “I’ll buckle you.” She got a foot free and kicked at him. Laughing, Jake jumped back off the bag, his cock bobbing. It might have looked a bit silly -- if the veined shaft hadn’t been even thicker than the flushed, bullet-shaped head. And if she hadn’t remembered how it felt, grinding hard into her…

  He grabbed her hips, hoisted her butt in the air, and nipped her on the ass.

  “Jerk!” she squawked in outrage.

  But the squawk became a gasp as he repositioned her ass up across the bag and spread her thighs. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice a little muffled by the fabric.

  He stopped and craned his neck to look down at her. “Can you breathe?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  Jake rolled her forward her over the bag until her face was free of the fabric and her butt was in the air. Spreading her thighs wide, he nuzzled between them, his hair tickling her thighs.

  Erica’s eyes widened as he went exploring, breath gusting over delicate folds. His mouth covered her pussy, hot and wet, making her sigh in delight. His tongue tip circled her clit, then flicked back and forth. Each tiny flutter sent a pulse of pleasure surging up her spine.

  “Jake!” She moaned and squirmed, but he planted a big hand on either butt cheek and held her still like Clarence pinning a rabbit.

  Engulfing her clit, he began to suck in strong, hard pulls as he tongued the exquisitely sensitive nub. Erica jerked, longing to clutch a fistful of the bag and anchor herself against the storm of delight, but she couldn’t escape the belt. She could only gasp as he painted fire over and around her clit, each stroke increasing the pleasure and building her maddening arousal.

  Writhing in the soft grip of the enveloping bag, Erica bucked, hungry for the orgasm blazing just out of reach. She didn’t think she’d ever gone from 0 to 60 so fast in her life…

  He released her clit to sweetly ask, “Having a good time?”

  The orgasm receded. “Don’t stop!”

  “Yeah, I’ve got other plans.” Jake flipped her over. She lifted her head to glare at him incredulously as he gave her a smug and wicked grin. “And since you’re the one tied up and I’m not, I’m in charge.”

  “You…” But before she could finish the sentence, he landed on top of her like Clarence on that hapless bunny, hands braced on either side of her head, knees astride her thighs. He loomed over her with a devil’s grin and dipped his head toward her mouth…

  Frustrated, she snapped at his lower lip. Cat-quick, he jerked out of range. “Uh-uh. Bad witch.” Dropping onto his elbows, Jake grabbed her head between his big palms, immobilizing her.

  Breathing hard, ferociously turned on, she tried to glare up at him. But as the gold glow of his eyes burned into hers, fierce and hypnotic, she swallowed, hunger drowning irritation. “Jake. God, you’re driving me crazy!”

  “Good.” He kissed her slowly, and she tasted herself, salty and little astringent. His lips felt velvet-soft, seductively warm and wet, coaxing hers open for the stroke of his tongue. Erica moaned, kissing him back, her tongue swirling around his. The yielding cup of the chair pillowed her body, keeping their combined weight from crushing her arms.

  His free hand slid down the length of her body, found the point of her nipple. As he toyed with the sensitive flesh, their tongues danced, lips pressing and stroking. She could feel the solid weight of his cock against her belly, and her cunt clenched in frustrated need. Helplessly, she began to roll her hips against him, craving the rough stroke of his shaft, the delicious grind and dig.

  When he broke the kiss at last, she groaned, “Fuck me. For God sake, Jake…”

  “Not yet,” he murmured and began to kiss his way along the line of her jaw, down the curve of her throat. “I want to make you as wet as you’ve made me hard.”

  “Jaaaake!”

  Gold eyes flashed up at her. “Don’t expect sympathy from me after all the years you’ve made me wait.” His mouth found her nipple, teeth closing just short of pain, lips tightening to suckle hard.

  Erica’s eyes rolled. “God, I’ve been a moron.”

  He laughed, an intimate puff of warm breath on her breast. His tongue tip drew a swirling pattern over the areole, then flicked back-and-forth over the tip, each sweep sending another arousing jolt through her body.

  She threw her head back, grinding it into the bag, hissing through clenched teeth. “Jake. God, please…”

  “I’ll never get tired of listening to you beg.”

  Her hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of the bag so tightly her knuckles ached. Her hips rolled as she writhed, maddened, hunching furiously against his belly and the head of his shaft so maddeningly out of reach. “Jaaaaaake!”

  “You talked me into it.” He thrust himself up on his palms and moved into position between her thighs. Reaching down with one hand, he positioned his cock at the opening of her pussy and entered her slooooowly, his jaw tight as if he fought not to drive in up to the balls in one lunge.

  Erica sucked in a breath at the feeling of being filled an inch at a time, slick walls yielding to his powerful thrust. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his hips to dig her heels into the hard muscle of his ass. Urging him on.

  Clarence rumbled, a psychic vibration against her aura. Jake’s pupils dilated until only a thin ring of gold surrounded them. Not quite human.

  Finally, he was seated as deeply as he could get, and she was deliciously full of him. He seemed to cover every inch of her with hard, sculpted muscle and warm satin skin. She felt surrounded by him.

  And God, it was sweet.

  Jake stopped and bent to kiss her. With a moan, she opened her mouth as she’d opened her body. Still kissing her, he drew out, his shaft feeling endless as it retreated from the tight clasp of her pussy. Erica stared up into his face, the tight line of his jaw, his burning gold eyes.

  In again, hot and sweet and slick, filling her so full, the sensation hovered suspended between pleasure and pain. Licking her lips, she unwound her legs from around her hips, the better to brace her feet on the bag and grind upward, meeting his thrusts. Something about the position of her body and his caught her clit with the perfect pressure, the perfect friction. He picked up the pace, muscle rolling and working in his broad shoulders and strong arms.

  Inner muscles begin to pulse and clamp, her skin tingling with the electric build of the orgasm.

  “God, Erica,” he rasped, his voice sounding ragged. “You drive me crazy.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you…” But she couldn’t manage anything more coherent than that with the orgasm building momentum, every hair on her body rising, her heartbeat pounding like a kettledrum, her breath rasping.

  Erica’s eyes slipped closed to savor the feel and the smell and the taste of him. She heard a distant leonine rumble, and magic flared in a sudden psychic explosion, her aura reacting to his, a crackling discharge leaping between them. Shades of violet and rose exploded behind her closed eyelids as leaping magic showered sparks through her consciousness.

  She convulsed, the breath tearing out of her in a muffled shriek as Jake bellowed, shoving to the balls. Coming, pouring himself into her, the magic bursting around them like tsunami waves throwing great fountains of light.

  Clarence roared in her ear, the sound deafening as it triggered a deeper magical detonation that wrung more pleasure from Erica’s straining body. She arched upward into the heat and hardness of Jake’s cock
shoving deep.

  As their bodies heaved and writhed, their magic twined together, until it seemed their very souls flowed together, melded as Ferals meld, magic blending cat and man and woman.

  In that shining moment, Erica felt Jake. Felt all that he was -- the courage and the intelligence and the aching loneliness. Felt his need for her. A need that reflected hers. She’d been alone since she’d been a bullied child seeking the love and approval of a mother who’d had little time for her.

  He’d longed just as desperately to be more than the responsible big brother riding herd on reckless Bobby. Longed for someone to love him for him. To love him and his cat, accepting them both as the package deal they were. Someone with the intelligence and the courage to fight beside them.

  Jake had recognized Erica as that woman from the first. It had frustrated him unbearably that she had seen him only as a reflection of Bobby for entirely too long.

  Now at last she saw him.

  Panting, her heart thundering, Erica stared up into Jake’s strong, handsome face as he stared down into hers. Feeling his heart hammer through the muscled wall of his chest where it rested on hers, as a drop of his sweat landed between her breasts. But it was his eyes that riveted her, the radiating rays of gold and honey and amber as their gazes locked.

  “I love you.” She said it even as he did, the words a ragged, unplanned chorus.

  Erica’s jaw dropped, and she stared up at Jake, who stared down at her, looking just as stunned. “You do?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Jake reared off her, out of her, and flipped her over on her belly. As she gasped into the bag, feeling stunned as the world seemed to swoop and whirl around her, he whipped the belt off from around her wrists. Then she was on her back again with no memory of turning over, and Jake’s mouth covered hers in a kiss that blazed violet and rose. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, watching sparks dance behind her lids as she wound her legs around his waist. Holding him hard in the cradle of her body, feeling his muscled arms secure around her, feeling as if he never intended to let her go.

  When he drew back at last, he rested his forehead against hers. For a long moment, neither of them made a sound.

  Until Erica licked her dry lips “What do we do now?”

  “Fuck if I know.” His mouth curved in a brilliant smile. “But I’m looking forward to figuring it out.”

  She found herself grinning back. “Me too.”

  * * *

  They were cleaning up the breakfast dishes when the doorbell rang. A dog barked, and Jake groaned in frustration. “Damn it, Ma. Couldn’t you call first?” He dropped the washrag in the sink and headed toward the front door to a chorus of frenzied barking. The dogs sounded less warning than ecstatic. Erica followed, curious to see the source of the canine racket.

  Jake opened the front door to reveal a slender blonde woman with Feral gold eyes flanked by a pair of German shepherds the size of Shetland ponies. Judging by the eye color, both animals were Familiars, one with standard shepherd markings, the other a deep, gleaming black.

  “So you are alive.” The middle-aged woman lifted a blonde brow at him and stepped inside, accompanied by a good three hundred pounds of enthusiastic Feral canine. She was comfortably plump, dressed in jeans and a blue sweatshirt printed with the white silhouette of a German shepherd and the words Nolan K-9 Training.

  Erica had seen photographs of Jake’s mother often enough to recognize Diane on sight. Though her face was round where Jake’s was angular, her mouth and the stubborn angle of her jaw looked very much the same. So was the intelligence in those gold eyes. She wore her streaked blonde mane tied back in a ponytail that bounced jauntily as she rose on her toes to kiss her son on the cheek. “Considering that god-awful story on the news last night, I was afraid you’d been sacrificed to Satan.”

  “I told you I was fine.” Jake knelt to pet each of the dogs and get his face thoroughly licked.

  “That was a text,” his mother retorted, studying Erica with interest. “That doesn’t count.” She thrust out a hand. “Since it seems I failed to instill any manners whatsoever into my son, I’ll just introduce myself. Diane Nolan. And you must be Erica. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Her grip felt strong, steady, and warm around Erica’s. “I can definitely say the same. I wish I could’ve come to Bobby’s funeral.”

  “It was the middle of a tour. I understood.” Grief shadowed the older woman’s eyes before she made an obvious effort to banish it.

  The two dogs looked up at Erica, their ears pricked with interest, though they were too well trained to jump up or jostle closer. No stranger to dealing with Familiars, she presented her hands for a good sniff. They obliged her thoroughly with obvious interest.

  “Want breakfast?” Jake asked his mother, as he turned to lead the way back into the kitchen. The dogs followed at their heels, claws clicking on the wooden floor. “There’s bacon. And I’d be happy to scramble up some more eggs.”

  “Nah, I had a sausage biscuit. Anyway, I can’t stay long. I’m on my way to a planning session for my Talents’ Rights group.” She threw Erica a considering look. “But a cup of coffee would be welcome.”

  “Sure.” He headed for the coffee pot, which still held a few cups.

  Diane studied him a shade anxiously as he reached into a cabinet for a mug. “The reporter last night said you were on administrative leave. You’re not in any trouble, are you?”

  “No, it’s just standard procedure at the department when there’s an officer-involved shooting.”

  She blew out a breath in relief. “That’s good. Everybody’s gone so nuts with anti-Talent hysteria, I was worried they’d be gunning for you.”

  Dimples flashed. “I’m the hero of Faraday Square, remember?”

  “That’s not as comforting as it used to be, what with all the nasty crap Virginia Laurel is saying. That old bat is determined to stir up as much anti-Talent resentment as possible, so she can ride it into the governor’s mansion.” Diane dropped into a kitchen chair, the dogs flopping at her sneakered feet. “Which is why we’re trying to mobilize as many counterprotesters as we can.”

  Jake hesitated as he handed her the filled mug, then pushed the cream and sugar closer. “Mom, I hate to ask this, but would you consider staying home? It’d be one thing if the protestors were garden variety Humanists, but we’re expecting a contingent of Human Heritage, and those guys are violent. The sheriff is afraid it’s going to get ugly. We’re not going to allow anyone to bring guns or weaponry, but things could still get out of hand.”

  Diane’s blonde brows lowered, and her chin took on a familiar jut Erica recognized from Jake’s in a similar stubborn mood. “I have no intention of letting those jerks scare me off. The First Amendment still applies to Talents -- at least for the moment. But if we keep rolling over for these assholes, we’re all going to wind up in camps.”

  “Nobody’s going to put us in camps, Mom.”

  “Did you listen to the news last night? That’s exactly what some HHers are saying -- that we all sacrifice children like that fruit loop you shot. And since the Humanists got that damned Talent Registration Act passed, they know who we are and where to find us. It would take no effort at all to round us up and stick us on cattle cars.”

  “There are five million Talents in this country, and millions more who carry the gene for one ability or the other,” Jake reminded her, his tone patient. “Logistically speaking, there’s no practical way they could pull something like that off.”

  “I don’t care!” At Diane’s feet, the dogs growled softly, reacting to her anger. “I’m tired of people suggesting I’ve made a pact with the devil. And I swear to God, I’m gonna slap the crap out of the next person who asks me if I’m a terrorist.”

  “Please don’t. I’d hate to have to bail you out of jail on assault charges.”

  Diane opened her mouth for an indignant reply, then caught Erica’s gaze and closed it again, a blus
h spreading over her face. “You probably think Jake’s mom is a crazy person.” Sighing, she sipped her coffee as if making a conscious attempt to calm down. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just, you wouldn’t believe what people have been saying on my Facebook page. And don’t even get me started on Twitter. I’m fifty-seven years old, and I’ve never felt this way. Like there’s a target on my back.” She forced a smile. “Though I realize I have no business complaining to someone who was shot at a couple of days ago.”

  Erica gave her an understanding smile. “Believe me, I get it. A lot of people are saying really irresponsible crap.”

  “And the results aren’t good.” Diane frowned down at her coffee as she stirred it, the spoon clinking against the mug. “Used to be, law enforcement wanted K-9s with Feral ancestry. They’re bred to be so much more intelligent and empathetic than ordinary dogs, even without a Feral handler. But I had a police chief tell me today he didn’t want a dog with gold eyes because some people would think it was possessed.” She sighed. “If this keeps up, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sell my animals. How can I feed them without that income?”

  Jake nodded grimly. “Yeah, Kurt’s in the same boat with BFS.”

  “At least my dogs don’t go through fifteen pounds of meat a day each. I have no idea how the man does it.”

  He leaned toward his mother and met her gaze, the dark yellow of worry threading through his aura. “Mom, seriously… I’m working that march. How am I supposed to keep my mind on the job if I’m worried about you getting in a fistfight with some HHer?” A low growl rumbled in the air, distinctly leonine. “Clarence doesn’t like the idea much either.”

  His mother sighed. “I’ll think about it, dear. But I can’t just back down from these assholes. I’m every bit is entitled to my opinion as they are.” A cell phone chimed a ringtone, and she started. “Speaking of which, that’s my alarm. I’ve got to get going if I don’t want to be late for my meeting. See y’all later. Stay safe.” She hopped up from her chair, then bent to press a kiss on her son’s cheek and gave Erica a wave before heading for the front door. The dogs trotted behind her, claws clicking.

 

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