Shadow Whispers

by Lexxie Couper

  Just as she began to feel the pressure between her thighs ebb away, Jared returned his fingers to her nipples, flicking and pinching in quick succession, bringing her to a peak of exquisite bliss again. “Oh, God, Jared.” she moaned, pussy flooding with cream, pulse a pounding beat. “Please… Please…” She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling the jutting organ closer to the sodden center of her desire. It ground against her clit, parted her folds to push at the tight entry.

  She growled, writhing in Jared’s hold in an attempt to impale herself, but he wouldn’t let her. He took one nipple into his mouth and rolled the tip between his teeth, nipping and flicking at it with the end of his tongue before moving to the other breast. Tess moaned and pulled her legs closer to her body, desperate to have his cock stretch her full, impatient greed boiling her blood when he straightened away from her body.

  “No.” she protested, glaring up at him. How could he deny her—himself—any longer?

  “Trust, Tess,” he whispered, eyes holding hers as his hands smoothed down her ribcage over the curve of her hips to her thighs. “Trust.” His fingers curled under her ass, squeezed her cheeks. “Trust…” His long fingers spread them wider and she felt a teasing pressure circle the tight, puckered hole of her anus.

  Oh God, yes.

  Blue-gray eyes gazed down at her as he pushed at her hole a little harder, his teeth flashing when a choked cry burst from her mouth. “Trust,” he murmured, before dropping his head between her thighs and plunging his tongue into her pussy.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Tess cried out, rolling waves of wet heat crashing through her. She bucked into his mouth, whimpering with barely contained pleasure when he drew the tiny tip of her clit between his teeth. Shots of raw pleasure stabbed into her core, electrical pulses that made her heart hammer and her juices flow. Jared lapped at them, the sound of his appreciation soft moans that filled the light-diffused air.

  His tongue laved her spread sex, tasting and delving with a mind-blowing pace that made Tess squirm. She lifted her hips, giving herself to him completely, wanting to be devoured by his mouth.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, that it was impossible for Jared to give her more, he raked his left hand back up her body to close around her passion-swollen right breast, and slid his mouth from her sodden pussy to her ass, letting the wet tip of his tongue join the fingers massaging there.

  “Oh God,” Tess cried out, jerking against Jared’s head and the misty white bands on her wrists. “Oh God, yes, yes.”

  His tongue bathed her ass in frantic stabs, pushing her closer, closer to the precipice, until she felt the first wall of concentrated bliss crash through her being.

  “Jesus, Jared. I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  In a blur of white light, Jared rose up from between her thighs and aligned his turgid shaft to her wet, glistening pussy. “Then let me come with you,” he said, and plunged his finger into her ass and his cock into her sex.

  Tess’s scream rent the air. A kaleidoscope of blinding colors erupted through the white light around them, radiating out to infinity like a shockwave.

  Jared thrust into her, balls slapping her ass cheeks as his finger wriggled in her ass. His free hand palmed her breast, pinched her nipple, as his mouth found her neck and sucked.

  Another wall crashed through Tess. Indescribable. Consuming. She clenched her fists, tumbling over the edge as one orgasm after another claimed her. “Yes, Jared. Oh, Christ, don’t stop. Don’t stop. God, please don’t ever let him stop.”

  Jared’s divine rhythm accelerated. He raised his head from her ravished breast and looked down at her with burning eyes, lips parted, chest heaving. “I love you, Tess,” he ground out. “Never forget that.” His thrusts grew wild, his breathing wilder. “No matter what happens after this, never forget I love you.”

  Fresh waves of molten lava welled up in Tess at his words. Building, building. She looked up into Jared’s face, watched the white light around him flare into a brilliant, encompassing flash of dazzling colors. Watched him close his eyes as, with a shudder she felt deep in her being, he finally gave himself over to his own orgasm. Watched his nostrils flare as it scorched through his body and pumped into hers.

  Healing her damaged soul and her wounded heart once and for all.

  “Trust,” Tess whispered, gazing into Jared’s euphoric face. “Trust and love unending.” A bell sounded in the air, loud, pure, and strong, just as she closed her eyes and surrendered willingly to the power of her orgasm.

  And the power of her love for Jared Pierce.

  Body drained, heart thumping, Jared opened his eyes, gazing down at Tess. Her own lids were still closed, but her lips were parted and he ached to taste them again. To burn their soft texture into his mind so deep not even Lucifer could remove it from his memory.

  An eternity of Damnation awaited him. He’d denied Death to rescue Tess from Chad’s Hell, but now the Powers would call him, the Almighty would demand it, and he would have to—

  “Are we home?”

  Tess’s soft voice filled Jared’s head and he lifted his gaze from her mouth, resting his elbows on the floor to stare into her eyes. “No, Tess,” he answered, smoothing his hands over her torso to hold her close. “This is not home.”

  A frown crinkled Tess’s forehead as she ran her own hands over his back, casting a dubious look around herself. “It looks like home to me.”

  Jared turned his gaze from her face, looking about himself for the first time. A heavy pressure closed around his heart, a gripping hope he’d long resigned lost to him. His breath caught in his throat and he blinked, convinced his eyes played tricks on him.

  Smooth, clean walls surrounded them, wallpapered in pristine white, a relief pattern of eucalypt leaves giving the room a homey yet quirky feel. A paisley covered sofa sat against the far wall, covered in an artful tumble of cushions, an eclectic mix of green velvets, satins, and wool turning the piece of furniture into an inviting place to relax. A laptop computer rested closed on the low, deeply polished coffee table, its glossy white surface reflecting the delicate pinks and yellows of the bunch of wildflowers sitting in a vase beside it. Late afternoon sun streamed through the far window, a golden ray that fell on them like a warm blanket of light, caressing their limbs as it spread over the floor and painted the empty fireplace in a cheery glow. “What…”

  “Are you sure this isn’t home? It feels like home,” Tess said, a smile playing on her lips. She turned back to him and her smile grew wider. “Did you know you’re not a light bulb anymore?”

  Jared gave her a puzzled frown. “I’m not a… What do you mean, I’m not a light bulb any—”

  Welcome to your new life, Watcher. A husky voice inside his head cut his words short and Jared froze, staring down at Tess with stunned, dawning hope. Could it be true?

  Of course it’s true, that husky voice continued, a dominatrix tone if ever there was one. You gave your soul to save the woman you loved. That deserves a reward, don’t you think? Now stop wasting time and kiss the woman you broke all the Rules for. It’s not every day you get a second chance at living.

  A pulse—a real pulse—leapt into life in Jared’s neck and he grinned down at Tess, heat flooding through his body. His solid, corporeal body. “Thank you,” he whispered, curling his arms tight around Tess.

  Tess’s smile turned into a playful grin and she tugged him down to her. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Now do what the lady said and kiss me, will you?”

  Epilogue

  “Stupid goddamn kids,” Roy “Sol” Solovsky snarled, shoving his bunched fists into the pocket of his work-issued trousers as he glared at the mess at his feet. “If I get my hands on you…”

  He let the rest go unspoken. Not because he was a polite man, but you never knew who was being buried today and he’d already been reprimanded too many times before by his boss for being disrespectful of the mourning. Fuck, if the mourning had to put up with the shit he did, they
’d be surly and pissed off too.

  Storming back to his pick-up, he snatched cleaning fluid and a shovel from the tray. Goddamn kids always made his life miserable, knocking over headstones, ripping up flowerbeds. This though…

  He returned to the offensive rubble, shaking his head. What fucked-up freak would dig up a grave and deface a headstone?

  Sol bent slightly at the waist and spat. “Betcha the parents are to blame. Not enough belts with the strap, I’d say. Fucking rich snobs think their brats are angels.”

  He stood still, glaring down at the mess waiting for him. Whoever the brats were, they were clever. The disgraceful act of vandalism genuinely looked like someone had dug their way out of the grave. Splintered shards of polished oak and torn strips of plush red velvet littered the immediate area, as though something imprisoned within the coffin inside had ripped its way out of the locked casket. Leaving a collapsed man-sized hole in the ground and a fucking great big mess.

  Sol curled his lip, disgusted. The cops had been and gone, barely interested in the desecration. No bones, no corpse meant no concern for the boys in blue, who, by their condescending attitude, probably thought the whole thing a riotous joke. It was a joke all right, one he was left to clean up. How fucking riotous was that? “Fucking kids need to be shot,” he muttered. He kicked at a clod of dirt, a small sense of satisfaction squirming in his gut as it knocked over a vase of lilies on a nearby grave.

  He squatted down, turning his glare to the vandalized headstone. God knows what the fuckers had used to write on the marble. Looked like old, dry blood. Pulling a rag from his back pocket, he squirted a blast of diluted ammonia onto the marble surface and scrubbed the headstone clean. “If they were my kids…”

  With one last wipe, he stood up, stepping backward to admire his handy work.

  Chad Fisher.

  With tears and love.

  Devoted eternally to life.

  1980-2014

  “Poor bastard,” he muttered. “Not long a stiff and already some shits are messin’ with your grave.”

  He shoved the rag back into his pocket and began to work, chucking bits of wood and shreds of velvet into a large sack.

  Yet his eyes kept flicking back to the headstone like insects to red, raw meat, and he began to work faster, an inexplicable chill shooting down his spine, making his balls shrivel up into their sac.

  “What’s got you so spooked, Sol?” he mumbled, turning back to the gaping, freshly ruptured grave.

  A good twenty seconds passed before his eyes were drawn back to the headstone, but when they did, his blood ran cold.

  The epitaph—the new epitaph—was back. Just as it was before. As if he’d never removed it in the first place.

  Chad Fisher

  With flesh and blood

  Devoted eternally to Tessa Tessa Tessa I’m coming Tessa I’m coming

  Death will never stop me

  And underneath the headstone lay a photo where one hadn’t been before. A bright, colorful photo of a smiling couple beneath the Statue of Liberty, the arms of the man locked around the woman, a grin on his face that rivalled the Cheshire cat’s. A manic look in his eyes.

  Sol staggered backward, a scream building in his throat as he stared at that somehow vivid photo.

  Something wasn’t right here. Something wasn’t right at all.

  The End

  Preview another book by this author

  Sera’s Dragon

  Fire Mates, Book 1

  Lexxie Couper

  Chapter 1

  Sydney, Australia

  Heartburn sucked. Even for a dragon shifter.

  Tyson Conley pressed the heel of his palm to his sternum and rubbed in a slow circular motion, knowing it would do sweet F.A. to relieve the pain. This is what he got for eating spicy meatball pizza. Every friggin’ time, he ended up in hell. At some stage of the game he was going to learn his lesson.

  He could already feel the insidious heat radiating up through his throat from his chest, but whereas a human would pop a Mylanta or two and be done with it, he was now in for a scorcher of a time. Thankfully he couldn’t exhale fire in his human form, but that didn’t stop the inferno in his chest from making him wish he were dead. Damn, it felt like the lining of his digestive tract was being scalded to hell.

  Ty let out a growl, a thoroughly bestial sound that made the old duck sitting at the table next to his flinch. She stared at him, washed-out blue eyes wide behind her thick glasses.

  He gave her an apologetic smile, fighting the urge to fidget in his chair. “Sorry.” He pushed the remains of his pizza away. He was done. If Ryan ever turned up, he could eat the rest of the damn thing. As far as Tyson was aware, spicy meatballs only made his younger brother more—

  A million pinpricks of fire raced abruptly over Tyson’s flesh. Then another million. His breath caught, his mouth went dry and, despite feeling like he was about to spontaneously combust, he felt frozen.

  What the hell?

  The old duck beside him glared, thin mouth puckered with disapproving disdain. He must have made a noise to warrant her obvious ire once more. What it was, though, he didn’t have a bloody clue. Another growl? A groan?

  Invisible fire swept over his skin again, hotter this time—so much hotter. And purposeful. Shooting over his skin like an inferno until his dick was so fucking hard he wanted to cry out in pain. And pleasure. Oh God, did he want to cry out in pleasure.

  Holy shit…

  The mating fire.

  Tyson twisted in his seat, frantically looking around the beachfront café even as he felt like he was burning up. No one stared back. No one gazed at him with open hunger. No one stalked toward him with single-minded purpose or made coy goo-goo eyes from afar. The only one paying him any attention was the old duck with the sour-lemon face, and there was nothing hungry or sexual about the way she stared at him. She looked as if she were about to pull an Uzi from her handbag and save the world from a psychopath.

  She leaned toward him, eyes narrowing behind her pink glasses. “Are you on drugs, son?” Her lips—painted the same pink as her coke-bottle glasses, Ty noted in a brief moment of surreal detachment—pursed tighter. “Are you tripping?”

  Fresh fire scalded his flesh, so hot, so intense, he gritted his teeth. His cock throbbed with such impatient insistency he feared he was going to erupt. He blinked at the old woman. Opened his mouth. Closed it. His throat wouldn’t work. His balls felt ready to burst.

  Mating fire? How could he be experiencing the mating fire? Since when were there female dragon shifters in Syd—

  A woman jogged toward the café, holding the leash of a massive animal that could be a dog but looked more like a hairy…thing…loping beside her. She moved at a leisurely pace, dark-red ponytail flipping behind her head like a dancing flame, slim body radiating energy, breath slipping from her in streams of delicate mist Tyson knew only he could see.

  She ran past the café, dog-slash-thing keeping pace, and Tyson’s entire body went up in flames. Heat and lust and want. Need.

  Urgent need. Hungry want. Dire lust.

  His heart slammed into his throat. His mate. His Fire Mate. Fuck, he’d seen his Fire Mate. And she was—

  He bolted to his feet, stare locked on the woman jogging through the crowded footpath. His table went skidding, bumping into the old duck’s. The remains of his pizza clattered to the floor, along with his untouched beer, his phone and the old duck’s glass of wine. Beer and wine splashed his ankles, dribbled inside his shoes, but he didn’t care. He had to catch her. Had to—

  “Sonny,” she hissed. “Do you know you’re making noises like a—”

  Dragon.

  The word reverberated through his head, drowning out whatever word the old duck had used just as the crowd swallowed up the jogging woman.

  Dragon.

  He was making noises like a dragon. A dragon in heat.

  He was making noises like a dragon in heat because he was a dragon in heat. And Ch
rist on a pony, his Fire Mate had just jogged by, oblivious to his existence, triggering the mating fire—and she was human.

  Human. How the fuck could she be human? Surely he was wrong. True, he didn’t detect the distinct honeyed-sulfur scent all female dragon shifters exuded…but since when did dragon shifters mate with humans?

  Since never, that’s when. They may fuck them every now and again, but mate with them?

  No. It wasn’t possible.

  Of course it isn’t. So tell that to your body.

  His body, however, wasn’t listening to logic and millennia-old fact. His body was well and truly on its way to shifting—shifting for fuck’s sake!—and unless he did something soon, something drastic and/or crazy, the busy Bondi Beach esplanade was going to find itself plus one very horny, very large, very medieval mythological dragon.

  He stumbled away from his table, trying to find the woman—his mate—in the flow of pedestrians filling the footpath that ran between the café and the beach. He had to get to her. What the hell he was going to say, he didn’t know, but he had to get to her and, if nothing else, kiss her. And hope to all things holy that simple contact would quell the shift.

  “Sonny, did you know you have a very large erection?” his ever-informative elderly neighbor asked, hissing again, her voice somehow punching through his stunned disbelief.

  Tyson blanched. He jerked his gaze back to her, down to his groin, to the bloody obvious hard-on tenting his cargoes, and then back to the woman. “Err…”

  She smirked, and for an insane moment, she didn’t look old at all. Or duckish.

  And then fresh fire razed Tyson’s flesh, licked at his balls, his groin, and he forgot about old ladies. Fresh fire accompanied by a bone-deep shudder, and he knew his Fire Mate had turned around. She was jogging back toward him.