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CONCEPTION (The Others)

Page 34

by McCarty, Sarah


  Deuce frowned. “That is not wise. Marlika’s time approaches.”

  Despite the calmness of the words, Eden could feel the pressure and anxiety in him. “Well, I’m human and I believe in miracles, and I want one for Marlika, so I’m doing it.”

  “We are all hoping.”

  She unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “Now, there’s the difference between you and me. I’m not hoping, I’m believing.”

  His hand caught hers as she would have unfastened the second button. His knuckles under her chin tipped her face up. “I would give you anything to make you happy, mate, but I cannot promise to give you this.”

  “I don’t need you to.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?”

  She shook her head, meeting his black gaze dead-on. “I’ve gone over your head.”

  He frowned.

  “I’ve asked your Maker, my God, to do this for her.”

  “And you believe this is all it takes?”

  “It’s my experience that miracles are ten percent faith and ninety percent perseverance.” She unbuttoned the second button of his shirt. “I can be very stubborn.”

  He didn’t argue with her and he didn’t stop her work on his shirt, but let her undo the buttons one by one until his shirt hung open. She reached for his pants. He caught her hands in his. “You play with fire.”

  She smiled and rubbed her cheek against the hair-roughened skin of his chest, loving his scent and strength and the way he was instantly hers at a touch. “I didn’t realize I was playing.”

  “You wish me to take you here in the yard in front of the Others?”

  “Pervert.” She slapped his chest, trying to suppress the thrill of excitement, the thought of being claimed so openly created. “You could at least try to sound appalled at the idea.”

  “Why?” When she would have stepped away she ran into the barrier of his hand. “I would have no trouble seeding you here in front of them all if that is your desire.”

  The serious expression left her in no doubt that he meant what he said. “Well, I would have a major problem with it, so just get the idea right out of your head.”

  His hand slipped to her now flat abdomen. “Too late.”

  There was a tugging at the waistband of her jeans and then a slow loosening until gravity peeled the heavy material off her like the skin of a banana, cut from her body by his razor-sharp nails. The simple act of him putting his hand over her mound cut off her shriek mid-birth. “The idea excites you. You are wet.”

  “I’m always wet around you.” Embarrassment made mincemeat of her voice, leaving more air than disgust in her tone as she retorted, “That proves nothing.” She pushed against his chest. He didn’t move. Her only consolation was that the tunic she wore fell to her thighs, preserving her modesty.

  His finger slipped through the center of the joining ring, gliding along the sensitive flesh, curving slightly as he pulled back, giving her the pleasure of his nail gently scraping the receptive flesh until he reached the edge of her clitoris. Then he stopped, holding her there on the edge of anticipation.

  “Deuce?” He made it so hard to think.

  He bent his head, his hair shielding her from others as he whispered in her ear, “You owe me tribute, woman.”

  But not here, not like this. The only thing that came out of her mouth was a breathless “Please”.

  He reached down. Two more slashes of his nails and her jeans fell away entirely. One arm slid around her back and the other curved under her knees as he answered her thoughts, not her words. “No. Not like this.”

  He straightened, holding her in his arms as if she were nothing. She loved it. His laugh brushed her temple. “I am glad my strength pleases you.”

  Her “Stay out of my mind” was pure reflex, because she was getting more comfortable with him there.

  “But it is such an interesting place to be right now.”

  She just bet. “Well, I’m not comfortable with you wallowing in my fantasies.”

  He paused in front of the door. “Who else would you have…wallow in them?”

  She sighed and pulled his hair over her face. “No one. I’d just rather bring them out more gradually.” She had been going to say normally, but it was normal to Deuce to read her mind so she’d settled for the alternative. She was glad she had when he pulled the hair away and he smiled that gentle smile of his, the one that transformed him from leader to lover in one sexy flex of muscle.

  “You are adjusting.”

  “Don’t look so smug.”

  He opened the door and stepped in. “I am not smug, I am happy.”

  She looped her hands behind his neck. “I have to tell you, it’s hard to tell the difference.”

  Once inside the house, he made a beeline for their temporary bedroom. She pressed her face into his neck to avoid the eyes of the Chosen and Others they passed.

  “Your shyness pleases me,” he said as he stepped through the bedroom door.

  “I thought my boldness pleased you,” she murmured as he let her lower body slide against his on the way to the floor.

  “In private, your boldness pleases me immensely.” The door clicked shut. “But in public, I prefer your shyness.”

  She shook her head. “The old lady-in-public-whore-in-the-bedroom cliché?”

  “Do you mind so much?”

  She leaned her cheek into his hand, savoring the pure emotion of his touch. “As long as you’re my private gigolo, I think I can live with it.”

  “I am glad.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips twitched, letting her know he was more than glad. He was amused. She touched the corner of his mouth. She did so like making him smile.

  “You still owe me tribute, woman.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You are so hung up on that.”

  His smile broadened. “It is tradition.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s the reason.” She stepped back into the support of his hands and motioned to his shirt. “You’re a bit overdressed. “

  He didn’t move to take off his shirt, just shrugged in an apparent attempt to look helpless and pointed out, “Undressing her Chosen for tribute is a mate’s job.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Another tradition?”

  With a perfectly straight face he answered, “Yes.”

  “We are definitely going to have to discuss your traditions.”

  “I am happy with them.”

  She placed her hands on his chest, reveling in the way all that hard muscle leapt and shivered at her touch. “I’m sure you are, but brace yourself, the times they are a-changin’.”

  His teeth flashed white. “So you say.”

  She nodded in agreement, spreading his shirt to the side so she had an unrestricted view of his chest. “So I say.”

  He had a marvelous chest, his pectorals well defined, expanding above the well-defined ladder of his abs. The lamplight deepened the gold of his skin, polishing it to a burnished temptation. She leaned in, letting her breath caress the sensitive flesh at the top of his right pec, touching him lightly with her tongue, remembering how he felt, how he tasted. His ribs expanded on a harshly indrawn breath to be released on a careful “You hunger”.

  His finger, with one razor-sharp nail extended, slid between his chest and her mouth. With every pulse of his blood, she could feel his desire. He wanted her mouth on him. She caught his hand in hers before he could open a vein, and kissed the knuckles. “Not just yet.”

  His other hand cupped the back of her head, offering support. “I do not mind.”

  She just bet he didn’t. “Thanks.”

  She shifted position, angling along the other side, her lips offering the haphazard caresses here or there while her hands slid under his shirt to close over the hard curve of his shoulders. They were too broad and too developed for her to hold them entirely, but she gave it a shot, working her hands between the material and his flesh, scraping the tops with her nails, soothing the sting with
slow circles of her fingertips while her mouth slid lower, closer to the small male nipple beading in anticipation. She made him wait, approaching at a snail’s pace, ignoring the urging of his hands, tickling the turgid nub with her breath, her lips before gently taking it into her mouth.

  Deuce’s groan shimmered in her mind and in the air above her head. His breath hissed between his teeth as she lightly, ever so lightly touched it with the tip of her tongue.

  “Harder,” he ordered, his hands coming up to cradle her head.

  “Not yet.”

  He might have forced the issue, but she distracted him by sliding her hands down his abdomen, raking the firm flesh with her nails, forcing another groan from between his clenched teeth that stopped abruptly when she reached the waistband of his jeans. She inched her fingers under the material, pulling it away from his flesh, denying him the sensation he craved. She fumbled with the button, sinking her teeth into the hard nub of his nipple as she did. He bucked against her, making it impossible to undo the fastening. She fumbled a second more before stepping back and away.

  She liked the way he watched her as her hands slid down the front of her tunic, his black eyes swirling with red, his breath coming in shallow pants, his expression drawn tight with passion. She crossed her hands in front of her, grabbed the hem and brought it up slowly, stopping just short of exposing her pussy. Her hot, throbbing, slightly different than before pussy. She inched the shirt up, holding her breath, waiting on his reaction.

  Hot and primitive, Deuce’s growl filled the room. Eden widened her stance, giving Deuce a good view of her freshly shaved pussy before turning around and, with a wiggle of her hips, presenting him with the full view of her ass.

  She wasn’t expecting the smack he landed on her backside or the thrill of excitement that shot through her at the heated sting. She paused, legs spread, ass quivering, shirt over her head as she waited for what he’d do next. Or maybe to see if he’d do it again.

  “You are supposed to be paying tribute, not teasing.”

  She took that to mean he wasn’t going to do that again. She threw the shirt off and turned back. He caught her chin in his hand. His thumb stroked her lips. “And yes, I will do that again.”

  The promise burned through her veins as he kept her in position with his hand on her chin. His gaze traveled down her torso, stroking her breasts like a touch, lingering on her pussy with an intensity that had juices spilling from her body. His nostrils flared and his pupils drew to pinpoints of fire before expanding to a black reflection of infinite desire. “A Chosen blessed with such an impudent mate will have to deliver punishment often.”

  She shuddered as he removed his hand. He smiled, unashamedly, exposing the fangs that grew with his desire for her. Only for her, making it hard to remember her goal.

  She stepped back into his embrace, letting her nipples graze his stomach. She pushed his shirt back off his shoulders, nestling against the hard bulge of his cock, rubbing up and down as she stretched to work the material off. It slid a quarter of the way down before getting caught on his biceps. She frowned and slid her hands back over his shoulders and down his chest, casting a couple considering glances at the stuck shirt while she kissed first his right nipple and then his left, lingering there longer because she’d neglected it earlier. A simple twist of her torso and she once again attacked the stubborn button on his jeans. No matter how she struggled it wouldn’t let go, pressure from beneath impeding her efforts. She sighed, glanced down and noticed his boots. Those would have to come off first.

  Relying on Deuce to provide support, she bent her knees, sliding her body along his, whimpering when the waistband of his jeans caught on her nipples, pausing to control the rush of pleasure before she dropped the rest of the way. A tap on the back to his calf and he lifted his foot. She tugged on the heel—nothing happened. She tugged harder. The heel slipped out of her hand.

  She cut him a glare. He merely lifted a brow. Oh, he so needed a lesson. “Lean back against the wall.”

  The other brow echoed the first. It was amazing that he could stand there with his arms trapped within his shirt and still look completely male and completely in control. Of himself and the situation. It was also annoying.

  “You think to give your mate orders?”

  “If my mate wants his boots off, yes.”

  Deuce didn’t lean against the wall, he leaned against the door. As she’d seen in the movies, she turned and straddled his calf, lifting her ass high, spreading her legs wide, giving him an intimate view of everything he craved. His growl was music to her ears. The boot did not want to come off, giving her ample opportunity to wiggle and squirm before finally slipping it free. She removed his sock and moved on to the next boot. She tucked her smile away as he snarled when it came off and she fell forward, catching herself on her hands.

  He pulled his foot out from between her legs and removed the sock. She turned and knelt facing him. She held his gaze while bending down and kissing the top of his foot. First the right and then the left. Deuce reacted predictably. His breathing increased twofold and his body jerked under the lash of lust that thickened the air around them. She was learning nothing turned an alpha male on faster than an overt symbol of acceptance.

  She inched closer and kissed the inside of his calf. Even through the thickness of his jeans, his strength and power reached her. She did the same to the other side, letting her mouth linger long enough to impart the moist heat of her breath. He stood stock-still, accepting her ministrations until she got to the inside of his thighs and the covered length of his cock. His fingers threaded through her hair, tugging gently, the soft stings shivering down her spine to lodge between her legs where they gathered and grew in force. She eased her hands between his thighs, urging them apart as she came completely under him.

  She caught and held his gaze as she pressed her mouth to his balls through the worn material. He stood as tall and as immobile as a statue while she nibbled at his balls and struggled with the fastening on his jeans, but around her the force of his energy seethed and surged.

  He was close, very close to breaking. She fumbled with the fastening of his jeans again. Letting her fingers slip. Once. Twice. When her third attempt to get the button to slip through the hole failed, Deuce’s patience shattered on a harsh snarl. A loud rip punctuated his loss of control as he tore the shirt in half, freeing his arms, the moment all the more erotic for the fact that he didn’t use magic, just reacted with pure physical instinct. She did so like it when he went all primitive.

  His hands knocked hers aside. With an ease that left her blinking, the jeans rent down the middle. His cock sprang free into the air, the heavy weight of the head dragging it down. A glistening drop of pre-come spilled free as, with a muttered curse, Deuce grabbed handfuls of her hair and dragged her mouth up into his groin.

  Eden knew what he wanted. She opened her mouth, tucking the right nut in, sucking it gently and then harder as he tugged on her hair, demanding the tribute she gladly gave. His hips rocked above her, his cock pumping air. She pulled back, ignoring his growl that ended in a sigh as she took the other ball in, nurturing it to painful hardness before catching it between her teeth.

  Deuce froze, the only movement the heaving of his ribs as he waited. She held him like that, poised on the edge for two heartbeats before she delivered his pleasure in a soft bite. He came on a roar, yanking her hard against him as his cock bobbed above her, spurting his hot seed into the air. She turned her head so she could breathe and sucked his balls gently as the spasms waned, kissing both round orbs in their sensitive sac as his grip eased. His knees bent, his hands cupped her shoulders, and he leaned her torso back until his cock poised above her face. His eyes locked on hers.

  “Open your mouth.”

  She did, closing her lips around the wide tip as he slid it between. A trickle of seed teased her desire. She swallowed eagerly as he lowered her to the floor, his knees landing on either side of her shoulders with determined thud
s. His hands landed somewhere above her head and her mouth was suddenly full of his cock. He pushed it all the way to the back of her throat. “Suck it.”

  She did the best she could as he held her there, imprisoned between his cock and the floor, subservient to his needs as he pumped his big shaft in and out of her mouth at a leisurely pace, delighting in every break in his breathing, every twitch of muscle.

  “Harder, Edie mine,” he ordered when she would have faltered. “Use your lips and your teeth. Keep me hard.”

  She experimented with different techniques, knowing she’d hit on the right one when he groaned and his shaft firmed on her tongue.

  “Yes.” His hand came behind her head, angling it for better penetration. “That’s it. Just like that. Ready me.” He fucked her mouth steadily, wrapping her up in the intensity of his pleasure. Her jaw ached, her tongue tired, but she wouldn’t stop before he did, loving that she could give him this, taking every groan and sigh he made inside herself. He rode her mouth, fucking her face in slow, easy glides, eyes slitted with the satisfaction of watching her take his cock, as if needing to reinforce his dominance after she’d taken his control.

  Eden closed her eyes and relaxed, letting him have his way, understanding his nature and his need. Accepting both. Immediately, the energy around him softened. Deuce stopped, his cock bouncing in her mouth as he turned until he was straddling her shoulders and facing her feet.

  His breath licked the top of her mound like fire as he whispered, “Part you legs.”

  Anticipation made her slow to respond. A sharp nip to the inside of her thigh had her whimpering and lifting her hips. Toward that heat and his mouth. Deuce laughed and kissed the top of her labia, his lips lingering but not moving, just teasing her with the promise of what she knew they both wanted.

  Damn it, Deuce!

  “What’s the matter, Edie mine? Do you not like to be teased?”

  She didn’t even have to think about her answer. No!

 

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