The Fae's Fire (BBW, Paranormal Erotic Short Story)

by Mia Dean

  “No, not own. We look after it in a way. Protect it. Guard it from harm, Moira. And guard those who find their way to its shores.” His eyes locked with mine and while I wasn’t strong enough yet to maintain that gaze, I managed to smile more confidently than before as I ran a hand over the generous swell of my hip. His eyes shifted to follow its course.

  Seeing that such a beautiful man was taken by my body was a heady aphrodisiac. All of my self-doubt and shyness melted away. I lay back against the grass and arched my back invitingly. My breasts pressed revealingly forward.

  “Protection, huh? I could use some protection tonight. I was warned in town about randy leprechauns that may take advantage of a girl like me.”

  He laughed, the sound was silvery like everything else that night. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. The sidhe would never take something they were not invited to take.”

  In another of those eerie, liquid movements, he was lying beside me, over top of me supported on his arms.

  “I do see the Dwyer blood in you. The curve of your jaw, here.” His elegant long finger traced a line from the bottom of my ear along the bone. Even barely making contact with my skin his touch was electric. Goosebumps broke out along my arms and thighs. “The shape of your lips.” The same feather light touch pulled my bottom lip downwards, parting them ever so slightly. I closed my eyes and sighed lightly. “But most of all in that beautiful red hair, the fires of Ireland.” At this his hand moved up to my tousled hair and sunk into its crimson waves. He pulled, not gently, until I gasped with a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

  At that moment I knew there was no turning back. I would make love to this man on the dewy grass here under the watching moon. He would take me, please God, again and again in any way he wanted while I panted and begged for me. I was his. Like an ancestral curse or blessing, his pull was tidal and there was no escape.

  Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to my thighs. Delicately but with an undercurrent of hunger he traced the line of them upwards until he reached the hem of my skirt. “Do you desire me, Moira?”

  “Yes.” My voice came out in a desperate little puff.

  He smiled slightly and I saw through half lidded eyes that his eyes, so clear and wide only moments before seemed almost animalistic, hungry. His head lowered and he traced the line of my jaw again, this time with the soft touch of his lips. When he reached the pale skin of my neck he nipped gently. At the same time, his hand on my thigh continued its progress upwards under my skirt and around the line of my new lace panties. I gasped again when it reached between my legs. He applied pressure that waxed and waned with his kisses. The sensation of the rough lace of my panties and his touch made me ache with desire. His touch was teasing and seductive.

  I almost cried out in despair when his hand moved away from my lips and went to my back. He lifted me into a sitting position as if I were weightless. His searching hand found the zipper of my dress effortlessly and it dropped beneath his touch. I felt as though he could blow my clothing off with the lightest breath. The silky bodice of my dress pooled at my waist exposing my new black lace bra, an expensive indulgence for my trip. He lowered me into the grass again, its dewy coolness shocking on my exposed skin.

  In a moment he was straddling my hips, the weight of his body pressing me further into the ground, pinning me beneath him. He ripped off his own shirt, his own rising desire giving urgency to our movements. The skin beneath his shirt was the same glowing marble as his face and arms. At first I had thought him quite thin but now I could see that while he was slender, he was heavily muscled. Wrapping my hands around his waist was like encircling the carved marble of Michelangelo’s David warmed by the heat of living flesh.

  These thoughts rose on the tidal wave of my desire and disappeared just as quickly when my bra disappeared, cast off into the shadows and his questing mouth found my rock hard nipples. His tongue circled each expertly before teasingly flicking across the surface. Pleasure and pain mingled in a white hot moment of delirium. Desperately I reached for the button of his jeans. I needed this strange, other worldly man inside of me.

  The rough denim slid achingly slow down his angular hips exposing his silky blond public hair and his long, thick erection bobbed with his movements. My mouth went dry as all the wetness in my body seemed to pool between my legs. I had never been as slick before in my entire life. His mouth again was on my swollen breasts, showering them with gentle kisses and desperate nips.

  He slid my dress down over my hips, his fingers sliding into the waistband of my panties and tearing them roughly off. I spread my legs wide, wanting and needing him inside me right away. Instead, his hand once again found my slick lips and delicately traced their outline, every once in a while making a nerve tingling pass over my throbbing clit. I reached out and felt him rock hard between my fingers. Tentatively I began to stroke the silky skin of his shaft and he gasped quietly in my ear. His warm breathing rough with desire buffeted my neck, tickling and tingling the sensitive skin.

  His lips moved downward, trailing kisses in the cleft between my breasts, down my stomach pausing to dip his tongue into the cup of my navel and finally stopping with his parted lips just millimeters above my mons venus.

  “I need to hear you say it again,” he growled, his fingers had not stopped their agonizingly slow revolution over my clit. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You,” I replied, my voice coming out in ragged breathless puffs. “I want you. I need you now. Everywhere. Oh God, fuck me. Fuck me, please.”

  He growled in satisfaction as his tongue dipped between my engorged lips sending an electric pulse through my body. I almost came right there and then, my back arched into his touch involuntarily and I let out a wordless shriek of pleasure.

  His tongue continued the circuitous route his fingers had started leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Slowly, round and round making me wetter and wetter with his teasing light touch until finally he ran his tongue over my clit and undulated it gently, increasing and decreasing the pressure until I thought I would explode. Those long, elegant fingers found their way inside me stroking and pressing against my g-spot. My climax came furiously. My legs shuddered and throbbed, my full thighs pulled his face deeper into me until the last waves of it left me.

  Instantly, his face was pressed to mine and the throbbing head of his penis was pressing urgently against my soaking sex. I spread my legs wider and he thrust into me, his hands on my hips lifting me towards him. He buried himself completely growling again in desire. He thrust again and again, slow and long, keeping his own climax at bay though I could see the heat in his eyes. Each thrust filled me completely, warming me and raising my desire.

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. My climax was building, uncoiling in my belly. I raised my own hips and returned his thrusts faster and more roughly. One hand wrapped beneath my knee and he clamped his teeth on my shoulder matching my thrusts with his urgency.

  “Oh God, yes,” I screamed before I lost the ability to speak. He was pounding into me now, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back. My nipples rubbed against the smooth skin of his chest, spiraling my desire higher and higher with each touch. In one final stroke, the length of his shaft slid against my swollen clit and I came bucking and screaming, the fluid of my desire running between my legs. Everything around me disappeared in a moment of blackness and heat, very distantly I could feel him bucking and voicing a harsh cry with his own orgasm.

  We lay in the grass for what seemed like ages, my head on his chest, his hand gently stroking the soft folds of my stomach. Too be honest, I couldn’t have stood if the entire Loughsidhe police force came swooping down on us. My legs were still quivering ten minutes after.

  “I don’t even know your name,” I said finally when my voice returned.

  “No, but you always know where to find me don’t you?” He smiled down at me, the teasing now gone in a haze of satisfied desire.

  “At the lough. It’s a sacred pl
ace, isn’t it? A protected place.”

  “Yes, it is and always will be. Go to sleep now, Moira, a stóirín.” Feather-light kisses brushed my eyelids. From very far away I heard his voice, “Go to sleep and dream of love and desire.”

  I awoke early the next morning, stark naked beneath the birches. My clothes, so casually cast aside last night, were folded next to me. For a minute I had no idea where I was and then it all returned in a wave, memories of heat and desire, silver skin beneath the moon. Easy enough to assume I had had a particularly vivid dream or drink-induced hallucination. Pink elephants were the cliché but why not a fairy lover instead? Well, it was hard to deny the evidence even in the light of day. Love bites still dotted my exposed breasts and his seed was dry on the tops of my thighs. Everything between my legs felt swollen and satisfied. I could convince myself that an unusually attractive man from town, possibly really, really into role-playing had seduced me last night but my heart knew the truth. All of my senses cried out that he had been from another world: the sight, the smell, the taste of his skin that lingered on my tongue.

  By the time I stumbled back onto the high street I was moderately well put together. There was no denying in my cocktail dress, stilettoes slung around one of my fingers, that I was doing the walk of shame but I’d be damned if I didn’t make it look good. Luckily enough, I only encountered a few older men and women on the street, busily sweeping their stoops and raising metal grates that had covered their shops for the night.

  I paused momentarily before The Crooked Hill, the bar from last night. For some reason, everything before I reached the park had grown hazy in my memory. There had been a bartender, a cute one. I had considered bringing him back to my hotel. What had his name been?

  As if my thoughts had conjured him, the bartender—Aidan, that’s right—appeared walking down the alleyway pulling a garbage can out to the curb. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me and looked me over carefully.

  “You’ve been to the lough,” he said, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

  “Yes, I must have fallen asleep. Strange dreams…” How could I explain my night to him or anyone? For starters, I didn’t need to end up in a psychiatric ward somewhere explaining to an overly sympathetic doctor that I had indeed had my brains fucked out by a supernatural creature.

  “There’s no need to lie to me, Moira.” I didn’t remember telling him my name. “I can smell him on you and I know the look of a girl who’s been fay-struck or fay-fucked if you prefer.”

  “I don’t need your judgment, Aidan,” I said throwing his name back at him. If he was going to critique my love life I decided we must be on a first name basis. I turned to march angrily back to my hotel when he reached out and touched my arm tentatively.

  “Nah, nah don’t be like that. I’m worried about you is all. They’re not like us, you understand? Their hearts are still and cold. Women who love Cas Corach do not meet happy endings, as a rule.”

  I smiled, softened by the true concern I heard in his voice. “I hear you and I will be careful. Thank you and see you around.”

  I turned away once again and started walking down the street. Whether Aidan would be comforted by my words I didn’t know but I didn’t have the mental energy to worry about him now. It was 8 o’clock. I had a half an hour to shower and change before I met my family for breakfast in the hotel café. It was going to be an awkward meeting. They wouldn’t understand why I wasn’t going on to Dublin with them anymore. They wouldn’t understand when I told them I didn’t know when I would be back in America. But I had made up my mind. I had a date on a moonlit shore tonight and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. For all the worlds.