The Ice Butterfly

by Vivien Dean

  How it could feel like she was everywhere, he had no idea. Though Rana wasn't a tiny woman, he was still considerably bigger than her. It should have been impossible to feel her heat in such places as his feet or the backs of his hands. But he could. He did. Tomas even imagined his scalp burned from the encroaching fire of her flesh, though that could have been the raking of her nails through his hair when she dragged him back to her mouth.

  His cock slipped between her thighs. Skimming across her clit, his hard shaft grew slick from her juices as it parted her folds, then grazed across her tight pucker as the head pushed free of her heat. Tomas groaned in the back of his throat as he cupped her delectable ass, and he couldn't restrain the thrust of his hips as he sought to retrace the same path with his cock. It felt even better on the second pass. And the third.

  ''I'm beginning to figure out what you might want,'' Rana murmured in between kisses.

  The possibility made him pause. It was the one thing they hadn't done the first time around, though the fantasy had been a favorite of his for years afterward. To get it fulfilled now made his body hum in anticipation.

  Abruptly, Tomas sat up, making Rana squeak in surprise as his hands slid up her hips to tighten around her waist. ''Is that what you want?'' he growled. ''Do you want me to bury my cock in your ass? For me to fuck you so slow and deep that you're screaming for me to let you come?''

  She shuddered, her eyes black and flashing. ''Yes…god, yes.''

  It was all he needed to hear. Guiding her down, Tomas laid Rana on the floor between his legs, hers atop his thighs as he sat there and regarded the picture she presented. Her pussy glistened from her arousal, and he licked his lips, remembering how magnificent she had tasted. ''It takes time, you know,'' he said, easing free from the tangle of their legs. Getting on his hands and knees, he licked a long trail up the inside of her calf, dipping behind her knee before traveling onward to the soft skin of her inner thigh. ''Patience. Do you think you can handle that?''

  Her nostrils flared. ''I can handle anything you throw at me.''

  Tomas smiled. ''I'll hold you to that.''

  Grasping her other knee, he lifted her leg and put it over his shoulder, forcing her folds to part. His mouth watered, and he dragged a fingertip from the tip of her clit, all the way down her pussy, across her slit and further to the puckered hole of her ass. It shone already from where his slicked cock had rubbed along it, but he merely teased the opening in tiny circles while he lowered his mouth to her heat.

  ''Let's take it slow, shall we?'' As if to accentuate his point, his tongue drew a lazy swipe across her clit at the same time he pressed his finger into her ass, stopping when it reached the first knuckle.

  A shiver ran through her. He felt it in his hand, up his arm, along his nerve endings all the way to his cock. It made him want to fuck the notion of preparation and go straight to the actual fucking, but the picture she presented--lips parted, breasts rising up and down with her shallow breathing--was too delicious to waste. She was completely at his mercy. He had waited a long time for this.

  Rana wiggled as if trying to drive him deeper, but Tomas punished her eagerness by withdrawing his mouth completely, hovering inches away so that all she felt was the warm blasts of his breath.

  ''Don't stop,'' she pleaded.

  ''Don't move, then.''

  ''But I want—"

  ''And you'll get it. Don't move.''

  It took a few more frantic seconds for her to obey. As soon as her body ceased squirming, Tomas pressed onward, sinking his finger past the tight outer ring until it was buried in her velvety depths. He held it there for a moment, then two, listening to her pant as she waited for him to do something, anything. The second he chose to start sliding his finger out, he ran the flat of his tongue across her pussy, burrowing it inside her as his finger emerged from her ass.

  He alternated rhythms, fucking her with his tongue, filling her with his finger, keeping the pressure constant as his other arm draped across her waist to hold her in place. When he added a second finger to his thrusts, Rana stiffened at the added intrusion, forcing Tomas to slow as she grew accustomed to the thickness, but not once did he stop, not once did he pull away.

  Her moans grew constant, electric charges that wrapped around his skin. When he added a third finger, Rana gasped and hooked a leg over his shoulders, forcing him to stop. ''Wait,'' she breathed. ''Just…wait.''

  He licked his lips clean of her juices as he lifted his head to watch her struggle under the overloading sensations. ''Think you can ride me?'' His voice was a low rumble, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw goosebumps erupt along her bare thigh. ''If I lie down and you climb on, do you think you can hold it together enough to make it worth it?''

  She swallowed. And again. ''Told you,'' she managed. ''Anything you throw at me.''

  ''Good. Because I want to see you get all pink and wet when I fuck you. See you fight for air, fight not to come until you really want it.'' He paused, a slow smile curving his mouth. ''It lets me do this, too.'' And without looking away, Tomas pressed his thumb to her clit.

  Rana cried out, bowing so far away from the hardwood floor that it tore his hands from her body. Scooping her boneless body into his arms, he slid his cock along her wet pussy, coating his cock even more before lying back and kissing her one last time.

  ''Whenever you're ready,'' he whispered, dragging his tongue along her collarbone to savor the salty taste of her skin.

  She gathered strength from somewhere, bracing against his muscled chest as she pushed herself into a sitting position on his hips. Rana curled her hand around his cock, careful about what little slick they had to ease his entry, and took a deep breath as she rose up enough to position him at her tight opening.

  Tomas gritted his teeth as she bore her weight down. He hadn't stretched her enough. He could tell. She was going to be tight, and she was going to be hot, and—

  The head of his cock slipped past the tight outer ring. They both froze.

  Any coherent thought he might have had immediately fled.

  If he had hoped to hold on to his anger throughout their entire encounter, Tomas would have been disappointed. Because as he gazed up at her, watching her tremble as she adjusted to his girth, all he could focus on was the simplicity of her beauty. She glowed, as much from the reflection of the dancing flames in the fireplace as the spark within, and in that moment, in that light, he forgot about all the rage he'd harbored for the past decade. She was just a girl, a very beautiful girl, who set him alight like few others had. He would enjoy each and every second he had left with her.

  Then she started to move.

  Tomas tensed, his hands gripping her taut thighs as Rana pushed down. She stretched around his cock, achingly slow, dragging along the shaft to scorch him. He wanted to slide his hands up, grab her hips, and shove her the rest of the way, because for all his talk, this was an exquisite torture he hadn't anticipated. But he didn't. Couldn't. All he could do was take it.

  When he felt the weight of her body across the top of his thighs, he almost didn't believe it, but here they were, his balls pressed into her soft ass. Already, Tomas could feel her clenching and unclenching convulsively around his cock, though he doubted she was even aware of what she was doing, and he loosened his hold, hoping to incite her to start moving again. It took quite a few long seconds where all he could hear was her ragged breathing--or maybe it was his--but then her muscles tensed beneath his fingertips.

  And she was rising, sliding off his cock.

  Exhaling.

  Inhaling.

  He felt every inch of her ascent, a slow burn that made him hiss when the cooler air caressed his length. Rana didn't go far, only rising halfway before pushing back down again, but this time when he was fully sheathed, she didn't hesitate. She began riding him in ever-lengthening strokes, her breath still coming in shallow gasps as she grew accustomed to his size. Unable to stop himself, Tomas rocked his hips, assuming a slow thrusting that
gradually picked up in speed.

  ''Always loved your ass,'' he growled.

  Rana's dark eyes settled on him. Her brow glowed from the slight sheen of sweat that been drawn to the surface of her skin. ''Did you dream about me?'' she murmured. ''After. When I was gone.''

  His blood roared in his ears. He shouldn't admit to the truth, but the tight heat around his cock made it next to impossible to lie. ''Yes.'' When Rana curled her fingers into his stomach, the sharp sting of her nails made Tomas groan. ''Fuck. Harder. Do it…fuck…''

  The repeat of his request might have gone unsaid, but once was apparently enough for Rana to give him what he needed. She sharpened her speed, her skin slapping against his from the added force of her strokes, until the only thing he was capable of was grunting and hanging on. And thrusting back.

  And watching the succulent bob of her breasts.

  And vibrating in time with the tremors that had set up house in her body.

  She was close, he could see it. The way she fought for air, the way her throat convulsed as she swallowed again and again, the way she shuddered every time his balls hit her ass.

  But then he saw something else. Out of the corner of his eye, behind the couch. It was a thickening of the air, the slight bending of objects in the background making it seem like he was looking through some kind of clear prism.

  A magical prism.

  Jett.

  Rana was oblivious to his momentary distraction, and while knowing Jett was done and waiting tempered Tomas' desire a tad, it wasn't nearly enough to make him stop, not when he was on the verge of coming. He shifted his attention back to Rana, letting go of her hip with one hand and slipping it between her thighs. The next time she pulled off his cock, Tomas stroked along her pussy, teasing her clit before sliding two fingers into her slick passage.

  She cried out at the unexpected intrusion, eyes flying open and staring at him wildly as both fingers and cock filled her. Neither stopped. If anything, Rana slammed against him harder, meeting his upcoming thrusts with a renewed hunger that had her drawing pinpoints of blood on his stomach. The second he felt her inner walls quiver around his fingers, though, Tomas lost it.

  He roared and drove one last time into her ass, his balls emptying as he erupted deep inside her. Somewhere in the blurry world beyond the fire consuming him, he heard her scream, and the satisfaction that threaded through his veins stoked his orgasm all that much higher. Regardless of everything else, he knew he still got to her. That was worth the price of all the anxiety and all the fear and all the anger.

  Rana sank against him, her sweaty skin sticking to his as she curled up on his chest. ''Damn…'' she muttered. He watched her lashes flutter closed. ''I think negotiations might have to wait until after I can breathe again.''

  Tomas wrapped an arm around her, running his fingertips up and down her spine. Her body was already heavy against him with its need for sleep, the rise and fall of her chest visibly slowing.

  ''Go ahead and rest,'' he said, his voice rough. He deliberately closed his eyes against the sight of Jett still hovering in the background. Reality could wait a few more minutes. ''We'll talk about everything later.''

  There was no answer.

  * * * *

  Tomas tossed a rumpled five onto the bar and picked up his beer, the bottle cold against his fingertips. For a moment, he hesitated, flashing on a crooked smile and a long, midnight walk, but the sudden cheer from the other patrons around him broke the momentary spell. Turning his back on the Heat trouncing the Pistons, he maneuvered through the packed sports bar to the corner table he'd already snagged.

  ''You sentinels are getting way generous,'' Jett said as he sat down. ''Next time you need me for a job, I promise, no complaining about how cheap you are.''

  Tomas scowled at the stack of cash sitting out in plain sight. ''Put that away,'' he complained. ''And don't thank me. Thank the Regency. They're the ones who were willing to pay through the nose for getting the butterfly back.''

  With a melodramatic sigh, Jett picked up the money and squared an askew corner before slipping it back into its envelope. ''Then let's drink to more weather doodads going astray. A few more jobs like this, and I can tell those bozos in New York where to shove their Hello Kitty costumes.''

  He didn't need an excuse to drink, but Tomas took it anyway, finishing half his beer before setting the bottle back down. It was supposed to be a celebration. The ice butterfly was back in the proper hands, the weather had settled down to exactly where it should be, and Tomas had been granted a proper Christmas vacation in return for a job well done. He hadn't had a holiday off in years. This was a good thing.

  But when he closed his eyes at night, the first thing he saw was Rana's sleeping form in front of the fireplace, right before he'd teleported himself and Jett back to Miami. He saw the faint bruises his grip had left on her hips, and he saw the come still shiny on her thighs, and fuck karma, but he didn't want it to end like that. He wanted to stay and demand answers from her, and he wanted to try and see if maybe she had extenuating reasons for her thefts, if maybe she was worth spending a little effort on.

  He didn't, of course.

  He was a sentinel, first and foremost. And she was a selfish and unpredictable criminal. She had proven that more than once.

  His hands shook as he pulled out a fresh pack of Winston Reds from his pocket.

  ''Aw, T…'' Jett grimaced as Tomas stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit up. ''Have you ever considered quitting? I hear it's supposed to do wonders for living a long and fruitful life. For both of us.''

  He sucked down a lungful of smoke and held it there while the nicotine did its work. As soon as he felt his muscles begin to relax, he exhaled, careful to turn his head away from the table. ''Maybe tomorrow,'' he said. ''Or New Year's. Sounds like a perfect resolution to me.''

  Jett shook his head. ''How you do so well with the ladies constantly amazes me.''

  ''It's the badge. It gets 'em, every time.''

  Another shout came from the men watching the basketball game, nearly drowning out Jett's next question. ''Did your ice lady get mad when she found out what you did to her?''

  Tomas rolled the cigarette between his fingers, watching the path of the red tip. ''Don't know.''

  ''What do you mean, you don't know?''

  ''I mean, when the Regency went back to pick her up, she was gone. So your guess is as good as mine about how pissed off she is.''

  There was no denying the sympathy in Jett's gaze. ''Tough break. But hey, that helps the odds in having to do another job for the weathermen, right?''

  Tomas wasn't sure that was necessarily a good thing. Twice a lifetime might just have been his Rana limit.

  Draining the rest of his beer, he pushed back from the table and unfolded from his chair. ''Don't spend it all in one place,'' he said, nodding toward the envelope of money that still sat out.

  ''As long as it gets me through the holidays without suiting up, I'll be a happy camper.'' Jett brightened. ''Hey, since the honchos gave you a vacation, you should stick around a bit. Christmas in Miami is a happening thing, I'm telling you.''

  In spite of his less than stellar mood, Tomas grinned. ''I'll take your word for it.'' Sticking his cigarette in his mouth, he gave a small wave before heading for the exit. ''See ya in the funny pages.''

  As he stepped outside, the blazing December sun struck his eyes. He didn't stop, continuing down the crowded sidewalk and pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket. The moment he slipped them on, though, an icy chill skimmed across his neck, making the hairs stand up on end.

  Tomas froze.

  Rana.

  He half-turned, expecting to see her standing behind him, to see her crooked smile or her dark eyes demanding answers. It hit him he had no idea what he would say to her.

  A portly man in his fifties waited in the open doorway of the golf store Tomas stood in front of, holding the exit open for his wife who lingered inside. A definite blast from the shop's a
ir conditioning swept into the street.

  Taking one last drag on his cigarette, Tomas dropped it to the cement and stepped on its burning tip as he resumed his pace. He felt ridiculous. Of course it wasn't Rana. Not only would she never come this far south, but she had no real reason to seek him out. The score was even.

  Except for the fact that he was seeing her where she wasn't. And thinking of her when he shouldn't. He refused to wonder if Rana was going through the same thing.

  His features were immobile as he walked through the bright sunshine, his head high. To the casual onlooker, Tomas looked like he owned the world.

  Only Tomas knew the truth.

  And Rana.

  About the Author

  Vivien was born in a house very familiar with the written word. The daughter of an author and sportswriter, she fell in love early on with the stories that played inside her head, transcribing the first of those at the age of five. She moved on to explore other formats, including acting and film production, but always came back to her storytelling roots.

  Currently, Vivien resides in northern California with her British husband and two beautiful children. She's thrilled to be back to her romantic roots, and looks forward to sharing with you some of the voices that have been living inside her head.

  Visit Vivien's site at www.viviendean.com.