by Bonnie Dee
Aurora jumped up, unable to bear the censure in his voice. She wanted to stamp her foot and shout at him for his willful misunderstanding, and only just remembered in time that she was an adult with a mission to make him recognize his love for her.
Summoning what dignity she could muster, she said, “As, of course, I am.” And she set her glass on the table before walking steadily out of the room. He didn’t call her back or follow.
Numb, Aurora went into the bedroom and sank down on the bed. She’d managed to quarrel with him without even trying. Over Vee, whom she had, in fact, liked. She’d just been trying to think aloud, to understand with him the vague unease the woman had inspired in her. What would he do now? Decide she was too difficult and go and marry Vee who would never be so rude as to comment on his relationship with another woman?
Have I lost him even before I began the fight?
Suddenly terrified, she lay down, burying her face in one of the pillows and inhaling the faint, evocative scent that was purely Joel, while she tried to think what to do.
“Aurora.”
Startled, she lifted her head and saw him framed in the doorway, large and solid and so desirable that the very sight of him released a flood of sexual moisture into her borrowed pants.
“Are you crying?” he asked gently.
“No.”
“Liar.” He came toward her and sat on the bed beside her.
“I’m merely a bit emotional just now,” she said hastily, dashing the back of her hand across her eyes. “It’s nothing to do with you.”
He took her hand and kissed the damp fingers. “I don’t want to make you cry. And I don’t want to talk about Vee. I want to make love to you.”
Aurora looked at him through strands of her rumpled hair. She’d already won, but refused to give in at once. “Will you think of her?”
He smiled at that, a quick, open smile that held nothing back. “Of course not. Even when I’m not touching you or looking at you, I find it very hard to think of anyone or anything else.” He ran his fingers through her hair, drawing it back from her face. “I think you’re a witch.”
“A good witch?”
“A very bad and very sexy witch.” He leaned over her and kissed her mouth until, with a slow and delicious surrender, she opened for him and let him in.
She could tell herself she was following her mission, binding him to her as he was meant to be bound, but the truth was, she couldn’t resist him. She didn’t want to. The brush of his lips, the touch of his hands, brought an instant clamor of desire, a need that his caresses both soothed and aroused. As she burrowed under his T-shirt, flattening her palms across the hot, smooth skin of his back, he undressed her, pulling off the oversized pants and top before pausing to gaze down at her, his hands poised to remove his own shirt.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered and stripped off his clothes to lie over her on the bed and kiss her mouth as if he’d never leave it. His fingers caressed her breasts, flicked and pinched at her elongated nipples until she arched upward into him. His fully erect cock slipped between her thighs, and she gripped it there, wriggling, to try and slide it inside her.
“Sh-sh,” he murmured. “Relax. There’s no hurry. No hard and fast quickie, or furtive, sleepy screw this time, delicious though they were. Just slow and gentle and sweet…”
He punctuated each word with sensual, unhurried kisses that pulled softly at the skin of her jaw and throat and breasts, seducing her away from tension and into a haze of heady sensation. It came to her that Joel was a skilled lover, that he must have known a lot of women to become so, but the knowledge didn’t hurt her. It was part of who he was, and she certainly couldn’t object to the way he played her blissful body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and sighs and tiny cries of ecstasy as he kissed and caressed her.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered eagerly as his lips began to slide inward between her thighs. That had felt so wonderful before that she was eager to know the pleasure again. And yet sex was a curious thing, it seemed, with infinite variations, for on this occasion, the same act felt very different, if equally enjoyable. Perhaps because he was deliberately taking his time, each stroke of his tongue long and slow between her folds, curling lazily around her clitoris and unfurling along her labia once more. His mouth clung to her lower lips, moving and sucking in languorous kisses that should have brought the climax galloping upon her, and yet didn’t. Even when she tried to push herself onto his mouth, wriggling faster to feel the ultimate joy, he held her by the hips to control the speed of things and went back to teasing her clitoris with his tongue.
When she began to wriggle again, he shocked her by pushing a finger inside her. He lifted his head to see her reaction, and she stared at him.
“What?” he asked hoarsely. “Are you sore there? Don’t you like it?”
She swallowed, feeling the finger move higher and explore until it found a place that made her gasp out, “I like it! Oh yes, I like it.”
“Good,” he growled, and kissed her sex once more, his tongue, his whole mouth moving in rhythm with his finger as it pushed in and out of her body, swirling and plunging and gliding over the sweet spot that brought pleasure rushing and spreading. A second finger joined the first, and the slow fire burned suddenly out of control, consuming her. She writhed so wildly in her convulsions that he had to hold her firmly by the hips, but he didn’t let up. Astonishingly another climax began to flow from the dying first, and Aurora wondered if she could expire with pleasure, especially when his hands roved over her buttocks, kneading, and his thumbs parted her cheeks and pressed.
Aurora screamed, bucking helplessly until he showed mercy and released her. Sliding up her body, he seemed to breathe as hard as she did through her daze of joy. She reached for his mouth, kissing him with wild gratitude, tasting her own musky desire. He smiled against her lips and held her between the legs, as if to comfort her as the orgasm finally faded. Except just when she began to speak, his hand stirred, and to her amazement the pleasure built and exploded once more.
“Oh, goodness,” she said shakily, when she could say anything at all. “I didn’t know so much was possible…”
Joel’s eyes glowed with a fever of lust and triumph, and just a little laughter. “So much? Sweetheart, that was just a taster. I haven’t even begun to fuck you yet.”
Despite the massive satisfaction he’d just given her, she let out a moan at his words, pushing closer into his body, and he laughed softly, kissing her throat and lips. Aurora tightened her arms around him and then pushed so that they rolled over on the bed and she could sit astride him.
“Can I do that to you?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Pleasure you with my mouth.”
“Please, feel free,” he croaked. But she’d already caught the flame of eagerness in his eyes and was sliding down his body to take his rigid cock in her hand. It seemed impossibly large to be able to fit inside one small woman, and yet she knew very well that it could. She traced her fingertips up its blue veins, loving the feel of the soft, velvety skin. She began to stroke, drawing back the foreskin from the purple head. A bead of moisture emerged from the tiny slit there. Intrigued, Aurora licked it. She liked the way he gasped. She liked the way he tasted—a little salty, a little spicy and yet still Joel—and so she kissed the head again and slid her lips along the entire length of the shaft until she found his heavy balls. She took them in her hand in an exploring sort of way and kissed her way back up to the head of his cock.
Emboldened by his obvious enjoyment—his head was thrown back, his lips parted, his hands tangled in her hair as if afraid she’d stop—she took as much of his cock as she could into her mouth and began to suck while she stroked his foreskin up and down with one hand and tenderly caressed his balls with the other.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “You can do that all night…”
Happy enough to oblige, she continued, using her tongue as well to taste him more d
eeply. He liked that so much she did it some more, tongue-lashing him harder. Abruptly, the balls in her hand seemed to tighten. He gasped and his fingers released her hair to seize her shoulders instead and drag her up his body. Her mouth came off his cock with a pop and he lifted her over it instead, driving it between her legs and unerringly inside her with a groan of agonized pleasure.
He squeezed his eyes shut so hard that for an instant she wondered if he really was in actual pain. The she realized, with awe, that he was holding back his climax so that he could move inside her and make the moment last.
She’d expected a rough, almost brutal repeat of the fast, hard lovemaking in the bathroom, but even now, so clearly desperate for release, he kept his word, and thrust with long, slow strokes that stoked her fires afresh.
Joel’s whole body trembled with the effort. Enchanted, she squeezed with the muscles that gave her so much pleasure. There was a little residual pain in there, but not enough to daunt her. She rose and fell on his shaft, catching his rhythm and forcing the pace just a little faster as she hugged and caressed his cock within her. She coaxed him until he finally let go his massive control and thrust furiously into her, holding her buttocks steady for his onslaught.
Once again, she heard his shout of triumph, felt the hot pleasure of the liquid spurting up inside her. And suddenly she wanted to know the pleasure with him. She was so close already, all it took was a few more wriggles and bounces on his spasming cock and then she was in heaven with him, their lips and limbs all tangled together in one convulsing mass of joy.
For a while, cuddled close on his chest after his breathing had calmed and evened, she thought he’d fallen asleep. She didn’t mind. She’d never felt so warm and safe and happy in her life, and there would be other moments to tell him so.
But then he surprised her by laughing softly, his chest vibrating under her cheek. “You are a little witch, you know. What magic have you practiced on me?”
“Sex,” she said brazenly.
He laughed again with such delight that she lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest to look at him. “When I first met you,” she remembered. “I didn’t think you could laugh like that.”
“Like what?”
“Sort of…carefree.”
“You have that effect on me,” he admitted.
“I shouldn’t have,” she said ruefully. “I’ve brought you lots of cares and confused your life.”
His arms tightened around her. He smoothed her hair with one tender hand. “That’s the weirdest thing of all. I find I like being confused by you. It’s impossible to be bored or dissatisfied anywhere near you.”
Aurora almost purred, like a cat with cream. “Really?”
“Really.”
Ignoring the slightly embarrassed note that had crept into his voice, she observed, “I think you’re bored and dissatisfied quite a lot.”
“Maybe.” His lips twisted. “But I’ve never noticed it until now. I kept myself too busy, worked too hard and worried too much about how to make a few more dollars to add to the mountain I already have. There was never time to have much in the way of fun. Or put down roots—never wanted them. Never wanted the house, family, even a dog because I didn’t have time to look after them. Work always came first.” He gave a quick, not quite humorous laugh. “Actually, I think I was more boring than bored!”
Aurora dropped a kiss on his chest, and was gratified to feel his instant caress in response. “I don’t believe that,” she said roundly. “You’re too interesting a person.”
“You said yourself you don’t get out much!” The sardonic smile began to fade from his lips. “Perhaps that’s what draws us together. Loneliness.”
“It’s more than that,” Aurora said at once. “You must feel it.”
Then she wished she hadn’t spoken with so much intensity, for a slightly strained, anxious look crossed his face. He pulled himself into a sitting position, as if disengaging from her, but instinct made her cling on and in the end he didn’t object, merely settled her more comfortably on his lap and kissed her.
“Like I said, you confuse me. I’m no hero, Aurora, no fairytale prince.”
“Are you warning me off?” she demanded.
“No. Yes. Maybe.” The words weren’t particularly encouraging, but since his arms tightened around her as he spoke, and he buried his face in her hair as if trying to inhale her, she let them pass.
“You’re a good man,” she said, grasping him by the shoulders to look into his face. “With a lot to give to the world as well as to any woman lucky enough to win your love. You’ve been a driven man, I can see that, but you’re running out of excuses.”
He blinked. “Excuses?”
“There’s always time for love.”
Abruptly, as if the last word bothered him, he rolled her onto her back. Aurora’s pulse leapt at the prospect of even more lovemaking, but having pinned her ruthlessly under his body, he merely stared down into her face.
“I can’t make up my mind,” he said slowly, “whether you’re very naïve, or very wise.”
“Does it matter, if I make you happy?”
His lips curved into a smile as he brought them down on hers. “No,” he said into her mouth. “No.”
Chapter Nine
The raven swooped down from the sky and landed on a tree branch, its weight setting the bough swaying. Pigeons that had been contentedly cooing and strutting over the ground looking for stray tidbits rose into the air en masse and flew to the shelter of the building eaves where they roosted. The red-eyed raven watched the silly birds flutter madly. They knew she was not a predator that would attack them but sensed something dangerous about her that put them to flight.
Foolish though they may be, the birds were smarter than humans. Even when she was cloaked in her feathered form, the pigeons could see Valborga’s true nature, whereas she could walk among mortals every day and none of them sensed her otherness.
How many years had she dwelled on this earth, generation after generation passing away, and none of them aware of her true face and form, her imprisoned power? Now her time had almost come, the period of enforced hibernation was over, and her magic would soon bloom into full glory again. This time there would be no pesky sisters to hobble her by modifying her spells or limiting her strength. The others of her kind had gone away along with the rest of the magic that used to fill the world so when Valborga finally achieved full potency she would reign supreme.
Only one thing stood between her and her ascendancy, and she was watching the annoying wench right now. Little Aurora, bane of her existence. The girl was like a cockroach that just could not be crushed. Right now she hung on her lover’s arm, pointing at the Brea Monument that towered over the surrounding buildings like a shining crystal beacon. The princess was clearly impressed and chattering away, while Joel smiled at her with the fond indulgence of a besotted lover. Disgusting creatures, the pair of them. But Valborga would take what she needed from each of them.
Attempting to keep them in the castle had been a mistake, as had been her flare of temper that had caused the fire in the motel. Trapping or killing these two wouldn’t help her. She needed things they possessed. Aurora’s blood was nectar that she would drink deeply, and Joel Thorne’s human strength, along with his financial power, would give her the last piece she needed to achieve the height of her glory. She would make use of both the rose and the thorn, the transformative liquid and the earthly necessity.
A thousand years was almost over, the protection spell already breaking, and her metaphoric wings were about to unfurl and spread their shadow across the land.
With a guttural croak, the raven lifted off the tree branch and flapped her wings to gain height before following the oblivious lovers on their tour of the city.
“Tell me more about the woman for whom the tower was named,” Aurora begged. “She must have been a remarkable person for a building to bear her name after so many years.”
“The leg
end goes that Queen Brea’s father was the king of the underworld and her mother was a simple miller’s daughter who became queen by accident. There’s a bit about spinning straw into gold and a journey to the underworld and some kind of bet. I only vaguely remember the story from when I was a kid, but apart from the fairytale aspect, Queen Brea was real enough. They say she ushered in an era of prosperity and peace.”
Joel clasped Aurora’s hand and swung it lightly. When was the last time he’d spent a day like this on what normal people would call a real date, simply meandering along and looking at the city in which he lived?
“What happened to her?” Aurora prompted.
“History’s sketchy. There was a long, bleak period after her reign. Things fell apart. Warlords representing various factions clashed. Information and records were destroyed. No one really knows the exact causes, but the so-called Golden Age ended and chaos ruled for quite some time. But eventually science and reason helped us achieve not only useful inventions but a better way of governing ourselves—democracy over dictatorship.”
“Now your government officials are elected?” Aurora’s fine brows puckered as she mulled over the history lesson. God, she was adorable when she was serious.
“Yes, at least in this country. And yours,” he added. “No monarchy in Schlaushagen for many years.”
“And no magic,” she added. “No one believes in spells or conjuring, wizards, fairies or magical beings any longer?”
“No. There’s no sign of it in this world. I’ve never seen anything remotely paranormal up until a few days ago and those crazy vines.” It had crept up on him, this slow belief in her story, not just because it was the only theory that fit the available facts, but because of her. Because of last night’s relaxed closeness. It simply wasn’t possible to spend all night in Aurora’s arms and still think her insane. He’d never even mentioned the hospital to her.
