by Nia K. Foxx
“But you just asked me to show myself. What shall it be, little witch?”
She pretended to think, but it was a no-brainer. “Show yourself.”
“You don’t know what it is you’re asking.”
What the hell kind of answer was that? Was he grotesque, some form of beast or maybe even a demon? She shuddered at the thought. Although she’d never seen a demon firsthand, since they primarily stayed within their own realm, her parents had told her enough stories that gave her nightmares well into her teens. She understood the preventative rationale behind their tales. Communing with the powerful creatures could prove detrimental. Good Lord, what if she’d enjoyed being ravished by one of them?
“Do whatever you want. I’m going to bed.” She turned her back dismissively in spite of her now racing heart. Exchanging her daywear for a cotton sleep shirt, she hoped her outward appearance seemed calm.
“Sleep well, little witch.”
That was it?
“I have a name, you know,” she informed him, slipping between the covers of her freshly made bed, another gift from Falcon Dragoon she suspected.
“Yes, but I like mine better.”
“Can you tell me one thing?”
“What is it?”
“What exactly are you?”
“At the moment, just a shadow of a man.”
“So you’re human?” she asked hopefully.
“No.”
“But that doesn’t tell me anything either.”
“Good night, little witch. You may sleep peacefully in the knowledge that I have many things to do this evening and will leave you alone.”
Before Christine could formulate her next question, she felt his immediate absence.
That night she went to sleep with the name Falcon Dragoon on her lips and mind.
Chapter Three
He wasn’t a demon, not wholly. His Sleeper DNA definitely dominated his internal genetic makeup, as it would in his future offspring. It was just the nature of things. Although in his natural state anyone might easily mistake him for one of the creatures which was why he’d chosen to keep his physical form hidden. He couldn’t risk frightening her, not with so many unanswered questions. Like, how had she awakened him from his stasis to begin with?
Falcon was pulled from a sleep he’d thought impossible to be disturbed unless by his own doing and usually only when the Forces of Nature summoned. The very idea that a witch, a minor one at that, could penetrate his self-induced hibernation was a disturbing bit of news that required further exploration. Was she a potential threat? If so, why had the Forces of Nature not sent word directly as was normal protocol?
He’d been drawn to her like a moth to a flame, wanting simply to see her for himself. He was taken aback by her natural splendor. Over his long lifespan, he’d seen women try to paint on what she possessed without effort. Her oval face, framed by short riotous black curls, was a smooth honey color housing luminous hazel eyes framed by thick black lashes. A pert nose sat prettily above full lips tinged to a rosy perfection. She was tall and athletic which she hid well beneath billowy, full skirts.
If her physical appearance hadn’t been enough to cause him pause, the pureness of her aura did just that. She was no more a threat to mankind than a newborn babe. To his further confusion, he learned quickly that she hadn’t intended to disturb his stasis. So why the awakening?
When he’d first started visiting the little shop she’d worked so diligently to restore, he was certain that she was unaware of his existence. He’d taken the necessary precautions of cloaking his presence only to find she’d felt evidence of him. Never before had a spell of his worked so half-heartedly. Yet, instead of being annoyed he’d watched with something akin to amusement while she tried numerous times to commune with him as if he were a mere restless spirit caught in limbo. His little witch was definitely determined.
His visits came more frequently. The desire to simply be in her presence was developing into a need he didn’t understand or like. Falcon tried to convince himself that his nightly observations were to explain the phenomena of his awakening. It was a good pretext at first. As time progressed, he found his trips becoming more frequent and voyeuristic in nature. As much as he was tickled by her primitive attempts to draw him forth, he was just as aroused observing her evening stripteases. He’d even admit to enjoying her various threats at his lack of cooperation to appear.
Falcon wasn’t sure how to handle this new development of emotions when his whole life functioned on logic and the basic principles of practicality. His kind didn’t have time for emotions, could not allow feelings to cloud their judgment. When the Forces of Nature called on any of the Sleepers, it was because they were the last line of defense before something truly cataclysmic was about to occur.
Perhaps his twelve hundred year hiatus was taking a toll on him. By their very nature, Sleepers required virtually no contact with other creatures, especially humans. They preferred the seclusion of their underground lairs, going into extended periods of stasis until summoned by the Forces of Nature to eliminate disturbances in the order. Typically, they vanquished demons who got the lofty notion to take over a realm or other races of creatures bent on destruction. Christine definitely wasn’t a demon, and as far as he could tell, establishing a small town coffee monopoly didn’t require the attention of his kind.
His golden skin took on an iridescent look as he materialized in his den. Falcon ran an irritated hand through crimson hair, streaked with flecks of white. What was it about the little witch that drew him to her? Okay, so he could admit to the raw physical attraction. He’d hoped that by sampling her body and proving to himself that she was just an ordinary mortal, he could quench the desire burning in him. He was wrong. Now more than ever he wanted to ride between her firm thighs until he assuaged his overwhelming craving. It was an impossible situation.
Well, maybe not physically impossible. Sure he was larger than the average man. His six foot eight frame dwarfed the smaller species, not to mention his muscled girth, but he was certain that with enough practice she would eventually be able to accept the full extent of his cock.
He tried shaking the thought from his head, willing his budding erection to still. He couldn’t let himself fathom such notions. She was a human… okay, a witch… but technically human. It was an impossible situation, he repeated. She dwelled aboveground and he languished below. She was social and cheerful, where he was a brooding, serious, loner. She was pure perfection, where he was a monster or at least he would appear that way to her and any other person in her world.
No, he would maintain his distance, and when dawn came he would try once again to put himself in stasis as he had attempted since she’d awakened him.
* * *
“Sorry, dear, that name means nothing to me. I’ll ask your nana later if you like,” Deborah Douglas answered her daughter.
“It’s not important, Mom.” Christine masked her disappointment. “So are you and Dad all set for your trip?”
“I think so, but you know your father. By the time we leave he’ll have repacked three times.”
She shook her head in amusement. Her father was the worst when it came to preparing for a journey. No matter how short, or long, it was always the same ritual. He made a list, packed, changed his mind, packed again and repeated the cycle at least three more times. In the end, her mother would secretly repack one final time, making sure she had all the necessities and hiding all the useless items that usually made it in her husband’s bags.
“Have you talked with Alexis lately?” Christine queried. Despite all that had transpired over the last year, she still worried about her sister.
“Yes, she sends her love,” her mother answered smoothly.
“You don’t have to lie for her, Mom. I just wanted to see if she’s okay.”
“She’s keeping busy.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I guess, but I don’t think it’s enough. Without an
outlet for all of that anger and resentment she’s built up, she’s like a time bomb, a powerful one.”
“Do you think she’s a danger to herself or anyone else?”
“Alexis is too smart for that. She knows what the witches’ council would do to her if she used her powers to harm other mortals.”
Christine agreed, although she wished she had some way to reach out to her big sister.
“Listen, I gotta go now, Mom,” she said as a group of students came loudly through the entrance.
“Peace and blessings,” her mother said.
* * *
Christine turned the shower off, irritated with herself for being so sexually frustrated. She didn’t even know who or what Falcon Dragoon was, and yet she’d waited, splayed on her bed for him like some harlot. Disgusted by such a desperate act, she decided on a cold shower, berating herself the entire time as her body’s temperature returned to normal.
And what if he had shown up? How would you have explained yourself? she silently berated while vigorously drying herself. When did I become so hard up for male companionship? Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to take Sandy and Tom up on their offer. A blind date didn’t sound any more appealing, but at least she would know the guy was human.
“Sounds a little prejudiced don’t you think?”
Christine heard the voice the moment she registered Falcon’s presence. The little towel used to dry her skin she now held up as a shield, an ineffective one since she wasn’t certain exactly where he was or how much of her he could see. The tiny cloth was barely large enough to hide her breasts and cover the top of her mons, let alone wrap around her entire body.
“You know, I don’t ever remember inviting you into my home, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving…” For good measure she added, “And don’t come back.”
“If I thought you really meant that, I might take it under advisement.”
Christine huffed at his arrogant reply. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here. Why don’t you go and stalk someone else?”
“Because you enjoy my watching as much as I enjoy seeing you.”
“I think I liked it better when you were silent.” She felt ridiculous standing there half-naked, talking to what appeared to be an empty room.
“I apologize for my tardiness, little witch. I can see that it has put you in a sour mood.”
“Get over yourself. My mood has absolutely nothing to do with you,” she lied. “But since you seem so interested, I was thinking it’s time that I give my social life an infusion.”
There was a pregnant pause, and Christine became very cognizant of the stillness around her. The silence made her all too aware of the many missing sounds, like the low hum of her air conditioning unit, or the steady drum of her grandfather clock that was usually very audible.
“Meaning?” Falcon’s voice pattern hadn’t changed but she definitely noticed a subtle difference in his tone.
She’d started down this path. “Meaning it was suggested that I go on a date with a guy, and I think it’s time that I explored that option. If anything, I’m upset I haven’t done this sooner.”
The air in the room crackled with electricity, yet she felt suddenly cold. Well it certainly couldn’t be attributed to her a/c, which hadn’t made even the slightest sputter in the last few moments. No, this was cold from another source. Perhaps it hadn’t been the smartest thing to try and provoke an entity she knew absolutely nothing about, but she’d felt justified. How dare he assume he had any bearing on her mood, even if he were right.
“If that is what you feel you must do,” the voice responded, only this time it sounded closer, as if he were making a circuit around her. “Although, I know it is not what you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, considering we’ve never actually met, I think it’s pretty ludicrous for you to assume you know anything about me.”
“That is where you’re wrong, Christine. I know you very well, better than most.”
The sound of her name on his tongue sent a shock wave through her body. His voice was like a velvety caress, surrounding her. She felt the gentle tug on her towel just before it pooled at her feet. She should have made an attempt to retrieve it. At least she should have mustered up a protest. But Creation help her, she wanted what he was offering.
“I want to hear you say it aloud, in your own voice.”
She didn’t bother to ask what. She’d known that he could tap into her thoughts and should have probably tried to censor them, but a part of her wanted him to know how much she craved his touch. “I can’t.” Her words came out as a whisper.
Large hands settled on her shoulders, stroking up and down her bare skin. She shuddered. He was behind her. “Say the words, Christine.”
“Good heaven, I want you. Are you satisfied?”
“Not even close.”
She felt the heat of his breath on her ear before the gentle, moist lashing of his tongue on it. “Please don’t be a demon,” she whimpered aloud, giving him better access to the side of her neck he was now nibbling.
“Not a demon,” he mumbled against her skin.
Isn’t that what a demon would say? she thought briefly. She was drowning, any ounce of rational thought seeming to seep from her body. Pretty soon it wouldn’t matter if he were the king of all demons.
“Do not let silly thoughts intrude on this, my little witch.” He traced his fingers along the sides of her breasts, reaching underneath the gentle swells to cup them. She groaned as the pad of his fingers flicked her hard nubs in unison before massaging them between fingers. Her cunt contracted in arousal.
“More,” she begged, arching her back into his hands, wanting to see and touch him. To torment his body the way he was doing hers.
He nipped her neck again at the same time his fingers plucked her sensitized nipples.
“I want to see you, please,” she moaned.
His answer was slow in coming since his mouth was otherwise occupied trailing butterfly kisses down the nape of her neck.
“Not now, little witch.” His voice was rough with arousal.
“No, not again,” she protested, using every ounce of resolve she could muster to free her breasts from his hold, pushing herself away. She whirled in the direction she thought he might be. “I’m done playing hide and seek. I won’t let you do this unless you reveal yourself.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking, little witch,” he growled, his voice sounding only inches from her.
“I do, so if you’re not a demon, then prove it to me.”
She felt a gentle caress on her cheek but resisted the urge to lean into the warmth of his hand.
“Allow me to give you the pleasure you desire. I can almost taste how wet you are for me.”
She wasn’t sure if she could hold out much longer with him talking like that, reminding her just how he’d pushed her over the edge a few times just two nights before.
“I want to know who it is I make love to tonight, Falcon. Or would you rather I imagine a past lover in your place, maybe one that has --”
“Enough, woman,” he nearly bellowed. “You would try the patience of a saint. I’ll give you what you want.”
“And no funny business either. I want to see you in your natural state.” Although she wasn’t certain the extent of his powers, she didn’t doubt their boundaries were fairly far reaching.
He sighed heavily. “Just remember you asked for this.”
Christine bit at her bottom lip nervously as she waited for him to materialize. At first she thought that he’d changed his mind when he didn’t immediately appear. Ready to protest, she paused when she noticed two large bare feet reveal themselves only inches from her own. They were a slightly golden hue, not exactly the color of the precious metal, but not quite the color a human would possess. No, he was definitely slightly golden.
Thick, hairless legs were the next thing to appear, showing rock hard calves that led up to firm legs and muscled thighs. Crea
tion, but they were the longest things she’d ever seen. She wet her lips in anticipation when his upper thighs came into view, gasping as his erection took form, jutting boldly in front of him like a measuring stick. It was so close, she only needed to lean forward to feel its tip against her upper abdomen.
Will I be able to take all of him? she wondered.
“Do not worry yourself, Christine. We will go slowly. I have no doubt that we are compatible.”
“I’ve just never seen, that is you’re…” Her gaze continued its journey as she realized that she’d been so focused on his cock she’d failed to notice that he stood completely formed in front of her. A tapered waist, defined abs led up to a broad chest and even broader shoulders. “… so big.”
His chin was square, as if carved from stone. Thin lips set in a straight line beneath an aristocratic nose. Her gaze hovered there briefly before darting to the crimson and white hair framing his face and shoulders. It was like nothing she’d ever seen. She gasped when their eyes finally met, resisting the urge to take a retreating step as she was caught in their depths. His eyes matched the deep red of his hair, all except the irises that were white, mimicking his streaks. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t for him to look so formidable.
“As I suspected, this was not a wise idea.” He seemed to be speaking to both himself and her.
“No.” She reached out to touch his arm. His skin was warm beneath her fingers. “Tell me who you are.”
“I am Falcon Dragoon, a Sleeper.”
Why did that sound vaguely familiar to her?
“The history lesson will have to wait, little witch,” he said drawing her to him, his hard erection wedged stiffly between their bodies. “Right now, the only thing I can concentrate on is tasting you.”
He seemed to frown as he spoke, which she would have questioned had she been given the opportunity to. His head lowered, allowing him to capture her lips, probing while she easily opened to him.
For a man of his stature, she was surprised at how gentle he was with her. Falcon groaned into her mouth, pulling her even closer, his tongue dipping and teasing until kissing was no longer enough. She wasn’t sure how she managed to slip her hands between their bodies, would have thought it impossible. But with her intended target in her firm grasp, she let thoughts of the how evaporate, focusing instead on pushing him to the same fever pitch he’d managed to bring her to with only light foreplay. She stroked his veined cock, enjoying the way he stiffened, knowing that he fought for control. She pumped him several times, alternating between slow and fast, gentle and hard pressure.
