He kisses the skin above my bra. A soft kiss, sucking a little at the skin. I don’t know if I moan or whimper. Maybe both. He slides down further, to the center of my breastbone. And I want more. His hips dig hard into mine. My hands clutch at his back, his shoulder blades, his wings, the same wings that fold over us in a cocoon. It concentrates the smell of him, driving me mad with desire.
His lips run a slow trail down my stomach, light kisses that alternate with soft nips, and God, I can’t stand it. It’s like there’s no oxygen. His hands unfasten my jeans, and then his weight disappears long enough for my pants to follow, and then he’s back, closer than ever.
There’s a moment where I wish I could make my clothing disappear like he does. It would make life so much easier.
But then Axel slides his hand into my bra to cup my breast, and I forget I was thinking at all.
His teeth graze my collarbone, and then my jawbone. “Mo mhíle stór. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He drags his thumb over my nipple, making my back arch beneath his hands. Then his head dips down, and he draws the nipple into his mouth, and I gasp at the sensation.
He hasn’t even got all my clothes off, and already I’m squirming. While his lips tease my nipples, one hand wraps around my ribs, and then his other slides into my panties, gripping my ass tight. It pushes our hips closer, and I can feel the hard length of him inside his jeans.
I want his jeans gone. I want the rest of my clothing gone, and I want him to make good on his threat.
And I want to tell him that, but I can’t think with his teeth pulling at my nipple. I twist my fingers in his hair, and clutch at his shoulder.
Thank God he finally takes pity on me. He rolls us both to the side, enough that he can release my bra, and somehow untangles my arms. Then he’s kissing me again, and I’m lost in the feel of his bare chest against my sensitive nipples.
By the time his hands slide down to my hips again, I’m surprised I remember my own name. I’m desperate for that last barrier to be gone. His hips rock against me while his hands pin me down, and my fingers dig into his back without any conscious thought on my part. Then his lips leave mine, tracking a slow, deliberate trail down my body, until they reach my last scrap of clothing.
I’m practically dying when Axel somehow reins in his urgency. He places a soft kiss below my belly button, at the top of my panties. His hands have my legs pinned, keeping me from squirming. It only turns me on more.
Another kiss, a little lower. “Part of me wants to rip these off you and bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own name.” A third kiss, lower again. “The other part wants to torture you slowly first, until all you remember is my name.”
His next kiss is right where I want it. His tongue teases me through the thin cotton barrier between us, making my back arch and my fingers tighten in his hair, and making me moan so loudly that I’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. And then he moans against me, and it feels even better.
“God, you’re already so wet.”
He hums against my center, stroking his tongue up and down. My body tenses in frustration. I want more.
And so does he. With a sudden growl that mirrors my impatience, he rips the offending panties off me, and then his hot mouth is on me, sucking at that little nub of pleasure, tongue stroking inside me and along my slit.
It’s too much. His hands hold my legs hard enough to bruise as tension and need bundle in my core, suddenly and inevitably unraveling in a wave that leaves me clutching the headboard and unable to make a sound. But Axel doesn’t stop. He pushes two fingers in deep, and keeps going, building me up again before the waves have even stopped beating against me.
And then he stops, and I want to scream.
“Diabhal m’anam. I can’t wait.”
I barely have time to recognize the straining need in his voice, before he shifts, his body covering me again. His arms hem me in, and the only warning I get is a single stroke along my center, telling me his jeans have vanished with the rest of his clothing. And then he’s there, thrusting in hard and deep. His hips slam into mine, and I can’t think, I can’t breathe. He’s so thick, I feel myself begin to panic, until my walls stretch to accommodate him.
Axel’s body heaves with deep breaths. His wings sweep up once, and then back down to cocoon us again. But he waits for me. Kisses my shoulders and neck until my breathing steadies, and my arms wrap around him. Until I’m aching for more than the delicious feeling of him filling me.
He pulls back, and the friction makes me gasp. And then he slams deeper into me.
“I’m sorry, Kendry. I wanted to go slow…”
I shake my head. I don’t want slow. I want hard, and I want fast, and I want him. But the words are lost in his next thrust. I wrap my legs around his hips, and manage to find a single word, whispered into his neck.
“More.”
He doesn’t need the other words. His hips slam into mine again and again, and it’s not long before I can feel another climax building. The friction is too much, and the angle too good, especially when he lifts my hip slightly. My nails break the skin on his back, and he snarls as another orgasm rips through me. As soon as it hits, I can feel it start to build again. Axel keeps pushing harder and faster. All the sound has been stolen from me. I can’t speak, I can’t scream. I can only hold on as the pleasure overwhelms me.
Axel’s breathing quickens, his body tensing. “Come again with me, mo ghrá.”
His words are all it takes. I hold him tight as the world shatters around me. He groans loud, finding his own release with a few last thrusts, and collapses against me.
It feels like forever before either of us can do more than attempt to breathe. Axel rolls to the side, and pulls me to him. I still can’t think past the feel of his skin on mine. When he kisses me this time, it’s slow and controlled, with only a hint of the desire that overwhelmed us.
And when exhaustion claims me, it finds me with a smile on my face, and Axel’s arms wrapped tight around me.
*
I wake to the feel of his fingers on my skin. It’s an amazing way to wake up, too, with his arms around me, the feel of him against me.
Not to mention his solid length burning like a brand against my thigh.
I can feel him chuckling silently from behind. “Are you planning on joining the living today?”
“Do I have to?” I half groan, and then sigh. “What time is it?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His lips are busy tracing my shoulder and back. It must still be early, because he’s not stone. The sun can’t be up yet.
“Early,” he breathes into my skin.
A distant thump and a roar bring my eyes open to the comfortable darkness. “Have they been fighting all night?”
“Mm.” His hand slides across my stomach.
“How long before sun up?” How long before I have to move, is what I really mean. Before I have to leave the safety of his arms.
And maybe a little of do we have time for another round, because last night was indescribably good, and yes, please let’s do it again.
“Soon,” he says, pulling me tight to him.
“You’re so specific this morning.” I’d like to be annoyed. Really. But it’s hard to be annoyed with his hands on my skin.
“It’s a gift.” His lips drift across the back of my neck and jaw.
“Mmmmm. You’re wandering into dangerous territory.”
“I can stop,” he whispers in my ear.
God, no. “You are so mean.”
More distant thudding, and a wailing shriek that makes me jump. “Bean Sidhe,” Axel says, without missing a beat. Or a kiss, in this case.
“How long—aaah, God, Axel!” My hand tightens over his, which keeps doing things I can’t describe. Amazing things. I can feel him smiling against my shoulder. I’ve forgotten what I was going to ask.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
I gasp. His hand moves down my leg,
wide over my thigh, and drifting forward. “And you’re a horrible tease.” His other arm has me tight and unable to move. Which takes talent, since I’m laying on it.
“I love it when you’re irritable.” His top leg tangles between mine, separating them. His hand slides down to play over the inside of my thigh. The tender skin there burns at his touch. I bite my lip, fingertips clawing at the arm he has wrapped around my waist, while my feet writhe with his.
“That why you’re torturing me?” I manage to breathe. Barely. His hand slides up and down along my inner thigh, and I can’t hold back a groan. He squeezes, fingers kneading the muscle. I can’t stand how good it feels.
“Torture?” I can hear his smile. And then he flips me over onto my back, leg between mine, hands on either side of my head. “I thought you were enjoying this,” he breathes, and then his lips are on mine. My arms wrap around his torso, fingers digging into his lower back.
“I am,” I reply when his mouth moves down my neck. “God, I am. Are you going to—ah!” His teeth bite gently above my shoulder. My nails dig into the soft skin of his back.
“I decided something, while you were sleeping. I would rather enjoy the time we have, when we have it. I was fooling myself if I thought I could stay away from you.”
I smile. If this is the new attitude, I’m not complaining. Especially after last night. My leg wraps around his, and he finally lets me pull him down. His hands roam over me, mine over him. Our mouths and lips and tongues dance together. Fire lights his skin, and a shivering electric frission runs through me as I feel him change, his hot, soft skin turning to warm, hard stone. But sunrise doesn’t even faze me. There’s an ache inside me, an ache for him, and nothing satisfies it. The muffled sounds of the night’s fighting are nothing against his touch, his taste, his smell. Against him.
Until I hear the sounds of heavy artillery.
Both of us freeze at the sound. The whump whump of shots followed by the quick, crashing impact.
It’s a sound that drives my body’s screaming need into silence.
There shouldn’t be heavy artillery here. Not that kind.
We rocket up off the bed. I can’t find anything in the dark of the windowless room, but Axel can. He tosses me my shirt, brings my shoes, and then opens the door to let in some light. Not that I need a lot. Enough to grab the guns I set down last night, and strap on the knife I don’t go anywhere without anymore. The rifle I grab on the move—Axel already has the ammo box.
And then we’re gone, running to find a vantage point.
To find out what happened.
Axel leads us out onto the main battlements. No lonely perch today, because we’re not the only ones out here at the crack of dawn. The loud whump comes again, and Axel throws me to the walk beneath him. The shell impacts high to the left of us.
I push to my feet and run to the crenellations, the puzzle-piece-like stones at the edge of the high wall. Please don’t let me be right. I slide the scope off my rifle and raise it up, peering down at the attackers below.
“Oh God.” I’m right.
“What is it?” Axel asks from behind me.
I shake my head, trying not to believe it. But I have to, it’s right there in front of me. “Two things,” I choke out. “They have howitzers, for one.”
“Howitzers?”
“Yeah, you know, big-ass guns?”
“I know what they are! How the hell did they get howitzers?”
“That’s the other thing. Look.” I hand him my scope. When he turns back to me, his jaw is tight. “They must have arrived in the night.”
“Kendry…” His voice says he knows what I’m thinking. And of course he does. He tromped all over southwestern Virginia with me for the same thoughts.
“You know they’ll still have her.”
“You don’t know that. She was a bargaining chip for them.”
“One they can still use!” Cigar-face would never have come without her. I know it.
“You need to let your father handle it.”
“My father has enough to worry about.”
“I’m not going to let you go sneaking off through two armies for her!”
“Axel, she’s right there. She’s at our doorstep!”
“You don’t know she is!”
“You don’t know she isn’t! I can’t do nothing, on the off chance she’s already dead!”
“You’re not going after her!”
I clench my jaw. Arguing with him won’t get me anywhere. I’m not going to be able to convince him. And even as I think that, his hands come up to hold me steady.
“I know how desperate you must feel. You thought you’d lost her, and here there’s every chance they’ve brought her straight to you. But think, Kendry. There’s a whole army down there. And you only just made the jump from human to demi. Your father, on the other hand, is one of the oldest paras alive. He’ll get her back, whether she’s down there or not.”
I sag into his grip as his words penetrate my anxiety. “I have to do something…”
He hands me the scope with a grin. “So take out the guns.”
With a grin of my own, I snatch the scope away from him, jamming it back onto the rifle, and check my clip. The howitzers whump again, but I can take care of them. I need to take care of them, because they have their own rifle guard, keeping our paras at bay.
Take a deep breath. Calm down. Line up the target. Stroke the trigger.
My first two shots miss. I’m still too jittery from arguing, from the unexpected arrival, from the adrenaline. And probably a little from last night, if I’m honest. Shut the eyes, shut out the world. Open again. Shoot. My first shots might have missed, but they gave me range. I’m compensating, now. And I hit. The man loading the next round drops. So does the man behind him. Score one for Buc’s mystery ammo.
And I keep going. Keep working the trigger. Around the 155mm guns, the human militia scrambles. People run everywhere. But it doesn’t take long before they start to figure out that I’m targeting them.
Three more of the gun crew, and then they start to come after me.
“Kendry, watch out!”
Axel’s warning comes in time for me to take out the harpy aiming for me. I need to stay focused on the guns, keep them from using them, but I don’t want to end up dead. My focus stays through my scope, even as the battlement around me comes alive, and the air swarms with paras. Keep shooting. At the howitzers, whenever anyone tries to reload them. At the attacking paras, when they get too close to me.
Axel has his hands full.
So do I.
One minute I’m shooting, the next, a large set of claws snatches me out of the air. Axel screams my name, but I’m frozen, unsure of what to do, and unable to really do anything. I still have my rifle clutched tight in my hands, but shooting the roc that grabbed me wouldn’t be good—I’m too far up, too far away. I can see Axel trying to get to me, but he’s too occupied, too overwhelmed. So I keep shooting at whatever I can, until the roc clues in.
Its claws constrict around me. I can’t breathe, and the sharpness threatening to impale me suddenly make me realize how real this is.
“Kendry, no!”
Oh hell.
*
The roc’s wings beat fast, bearing me to the militia camp in no time. Struggling is a no-go, the roc’s claws twitch tighter around me every time I try. So I do the only thing I can. I hang on.
Until the ground gets close enough. And then I take the one shot I’ve been itching for.
The roc screams, dropping me, and I land rolling. It crashes down in a great black heap past me. Unfortunately, we both land in the middle of the militia. Out of the frying pan, it seems.
This is so not where I want to be.
“Grab her!”
Shit!
There’re people shouting and running and guns and a lot of general chaos, and somewhere in the middle of it, I make it to my feet, and do the only thing I can think of doing. I flip my rifle to a
uto and start shooting at anything that moves.
It’s probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. But what else am I going to do? There are two armies between me and relative safety. My only real option is to fight. So I fight. I shoot. I run, at least until they surround me. My rifle clicks empty. I drop it, switching to pistols. I don’t really want to kill any of them. Don’t want to at all, actually. They’re not even really shooting back, so someone must have given orders to the contrary. And they seem…oddly slow. But shooting keeps them off me. And I’m really glad Buc gave me the extra long clips.
Except that shooting only keeps them off me for so long, before one of them gets up the nerve to tackle me. He hits me hard from behind, slamming me into the ground. My elbow slams back into his face with a sickening crack. His nose, not my elbow. Noses are good targets. He screams and lets me go. I stumble up to my feet, letting off a handful of shots before my gun clicks empty. The one I used yesterday, that I didn’t have time to refill this morning, because I was too busy fooling around with Axel.
God, Axel. Where are you?
My other hand comes up firing as I throw the empty gun. It’s a useful projectile, at least.
Another body rockets towards mine. I catch him coming out of the corner of my eye, and I don’t think, just move. Slash with the knife I don’t know when I grabbed. Sidestep to avoid, bring up the knee, drop low and spin, take out another.
No thought, no second guess, just do.
Just move forward.
Shoot.
But even whatever god of war has possessed me isn’t enough. Eventually, they catch me. And I’m so close. Somewhere in all of this I seem to have decided that as long as I’m here, I may as well try to find Mom. I can see the tent, I know she’s there. I don’t know how, I don’t ask, I just know. But behind me, there’re too many bodies forcing me to the ground. Holding my arms, holding my legs, holding me down. No matter how hard I fight. Too many elbows in my back, hands on my arms and legs. Too much weight, shoving my face into the dirt. And the more I struggle, the harder they hold me down.
Boots wander into my field of vision. The old-fashioned black shiny combat boots, with grey urban camo pants tucked into the high tops. They stop right in front of me, inches from my face.
ParaWars Uprising Page 18
