Swamp Magic (Crimson Romance)

by Romans, Bobbi

  Could he hope she was the fated one to release him from his curse? Or was it too much to hope for such a miraculous thing? What he wouldn’t give to walk among society and not have to remain hidden in the shadows of the night. Would he remember what it was like free of the swamps, his only residence in all this time, away from the only friends he had? Namely, the many swamp creatures like him, who society feared and shied away from. Even killed when opportunity arose.

  Releasing her hands, he reached around her collarbone and, with gentle pressure, urged her body upwards. He nuzzled her neck, cupping her pert breasts, and tweaked her nipples enough to elicit a startled but pleasant response. The shudders that followed prompted his continued nipple play. He rolled the firm buds between thumb and forefinger until he had her bucking her hips back against him in a wild frenzy. He angled her to half lying, half upright and still on her knees, which was a good position to grant him access to her entire body. No part of her was off limits now. He attempted to slow the pace, wanting to relish every moment of their union, not wanting it to end. Especially when faced with the real possibility of having to watch her walk away.

  He forced her head to the side as his tongue sought and dueled with hers. One hand roamed over her front, finding and plucking the tight buds adorning her breasts while his cock, still deeply embedded within her, pumped with frantic need. Flesh slapping flesh sounded through his small abode, as did the strong smell of sex and his keen sense of both ignited a hailstorm of sexual need from him.

  He saw a puzzled expression ever so briefly cross her face, when her eyes fluttered open and she caught his partial change in her peripheral vision. Prayed that when spent, she wouldn’t remember what she would think she saw, and instead would focus on the raptures they’d shared. Hoped, that while he knew she would leave, maybe they’d lie together a while basking in the sweaty glow of after-sex release.

  His reptilian senses and predatory habits peaked, becoming more aggressive with each little mewl she made. His claws extended as he held her very carefully, as in his current state it would be far too easy to forget his strength and rip her to shreds. Not something he wanted to risk as he released his piston-like grip on her hips.

  He reached up and instead grasped her firmly by her hair, using it as a sort of leverage. He laid his other hand on her back, turned on its side, claws clenched to ensure he didn’t accidentally lay so much as a whisper of a scratch on her.

  Then her warm core trembled, beginning an onslaught of fast-paced contractions convulsing around his cock, bringing him past the edge of return. Her back arched, then she dropped down onto the bed, her hands fisting frantically in the sheets as her cries of ecstasy ricocheted through the small hut. His male pride ballooned as she rocked backwards on hands and knees, impaling herself faster, harder, and deeper upon his throbbing member. Only when the warm wave of her essence creamed over him did he let go and revel in the release of his own built-up explosion.

  Spent, he pulled her down with him on the tattered but welcoming bed, where they stayed silent but well sated, curling into one another with newfound intimacy.

  • • •

  Beth delighted in pure feminine satisfaction when she’d caught what sounded like a cross between a hiss and roar escape Moss just before his warm seed shot into her. The sound of their blended orgasms had carried on the swamp’s breeze as the sudden sounds of night creatures mysteriously sprang to life. The crickets’ chirping amplified, as did the strange, guttural barks of the alligators. Owls seemed to be hooting loud messages as they joined in the swampy chorus. It was as if the entire swamp had burst to life. If she’d been alone it might have been a little creepy, even bothersome, but right now, and with Moss, it emulated the joyous sound of life being celebrated. Like nature had blessed their union herself.

  After her heart rate returned to normal and she found her voice again, Beth wondered whether to ask Moss about what she’d seen. She wasn’t crazy, and she was fairly certain she had good eyesight, or so she’d been told during her last exam. But for all that, she could have sworn his pupils had become a little more, uh, slit-like? And there been a sudden sharpness to his teeth that hadn’t been there before, and his tongue had seemed, oh, thinner, faster, as it hit all the right places and then some. Like it had been forked?

  But that was impossible; she’d just been overheated, way too revved up. Right?

  That would explain the amazing mind-blowing skills he’d expended on her down south. Oh, get a grip, girl, you’re just freaking out over a bout of seriously fantastic sex.

  “Moss?” she whispered, voice still tinged with the lazy edge of satisfaction.

  “Hmm?”

  “How did you find me? You know, out here in the middle of the swamp like you did?”

  She couldn’t help but find his silence a bit unsettling. She sensed him debating how to answer the question, but wasn’t sure what he had to debate about. She wanted to push, make him answer, but deep down she feared the truth and decided to wait patiently.

  “I live close by and heard all the commotion you caused.”

  “I wasn’t making any commotion,” she countered. Okay, she did scream that one time, but that had been a good bit before he showed up.

  Again she met awkward silence. What was he hiding, and did it really matter? Yeah, she’d heard of vampires, werewolves and shifters, knew there was a truth somewhere about them. But what she’d seen wasn’t vampiric in nature nor did it even remotely resemble a wolf. The features held more reptilian-like qualities.

  She pushed a little harder. “So, you heard me? All the way from here?”

  “I do not always stay here.”

  “Oh? Where do you live then?”

  Silence.

  “Not much of a talker, are you?” she stated more to herself than him.

  “I … I do live here.” He waved his hands about, seeming to mean more than just the cabin. “But I was returning when I heard you.” His voice was a bit stiff. He rose from the bed to stand in the rays of moonlight the glassless sills provided.

  “Here as in this swamp, or here as in this cabin?” Though she said cabin, she did so loosely. The place was quite primitive, yet very soothing at the same time. Something about being here in the swamp, with him, felt magical and right.

  Her mind skittered off its current path when his rear end drew her gaze. The man was one giant, walking muscle as exemplified by the hard lines that ran the length of his sculpted backside … and front side, for that matter. He stepped farther into the moonlight and when he did, she noticed what appeared to be a tattoo of sorts spreading out over his chest and curving around his body. It shimmered and seemed almost iridescent, its bluish green color replicating the appearance of scales. The transformation didn’t end, as he turned facing her and she caught those beautiful, moss-green eyes glowing. He was shifting right before her eyes.

  Chapter Five

  Okay, this was where most people, sane people, would have run away screaming. Instead, Beth thought about how beautiful he appeared. Beautiful in a brooding, sexy, wild unique animal kind of way. Though what kind of animal exactly, still remained a mystery.

  “Both,” he answered, solemn and grim sounding.

  He turned and started toward her. The moonlight cascading around him created a dazzling halo effect. His golden body, toned, taut, and bare, sent her overactive libido stirring once more. She caught his heavy sac drawing up tight, as clearly he too grew eager for more play. His slow, tantalizing gait was teasing and powerful. She licked her lips in anticipation and caught the flare in his gaze, his staff rising again in apparent appreciation of the subconscious act, thick, long, and still glistening from their recent joining.

  “I should tell you. Pregnancy nor disease is an issue with me.”

  She hadn’t even thought about that. So swept away with the man and magic of the moment. Her
insides twisted at how irresponsible she’d acted, though she had detected something, almost mystical about him.

  “And why is that?” She asked hoping he’d open up.

  Beth couldn’t begin to fathom how in the hell she was this turned on so soon after the best, most intense sex of her life. Yet her breasts weighed heavily while her nipples tingled, and she grew slick again at the erotic sight of him. Desire rolled through her in waves so strong she trembled in anticipation.

  “I am not quite human.”

  “Um, yeah, I had kinda noticed.”

  He watched her through hooded eyes, as if expecting her to turn tail and run. Not. “You are not disgusted by this or afraid of me?” He sounded shocked but relieved and puzzled all at the same time.

  “Should I be?” Though she asked, she already had her answer.

  “Most would be. Most have been, as maybe you should be.” A deep sadness laced his words.

  “Well, I am not most, and don’t want to be,” she reassured him.

  No, she hadn’t lost her mind; she’d just met many humans she wouldn’t call human. So cold and vicious by nature, even assigning them to the animal kingdom seemed unfair. Every day papers across the globe wrote about them. They carried names like serial killer, rapist, murderer.

  Instinct told her Moss fit neither category.

  Brazen in her current nude state, she closed the gap between them; her nipples brushed him as she came to stand toe to toe with him. Though she rather liked this wanton, slut-puppy side of herself, she hadn’t realized it even existed.

  She brought her hands to rest on either side of his beautiful yet masculine face and made him look her in the eyes. They stood in a standoff of sorts. More than anything, she needed him to understand she didn’t fear him. If he had an inkling of the many things she wanted to do to him, he might be the one running.

  “Moss, I don’t care what you are or aren’t. I can sense who you are.”

  His hand came down to cup her face, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. He asked, his voice sinfully deep, “And who or what do you think I am?”

  “You are a kind, compassionate, and gentle man, Moss.” Truthful, yet firm enough she hoped it penetrated his thick skull.

  “What makes you so certain when we’ve just met?” he asked, voice tight, eyes slitted half shut, skeptical.

  Though he’d posed it as a question, his voice hinted at confusion. As if he couldn’t believe her but wanted to. Begged for a rational answer, like something he’d been searching for, yet hadn’t found. She didn’t understand how she knew she told him the truth; she just instinctively understood her words to be true. He was a rare and genuine man, something almost impossible to find in this day and age. Yet out here, in this godforsaken, hot, mosquito-infested swamp, she’d found one such man.

  Of course, nothing good in life came without a catch. His just happened to not be one hundred percent human. Hell’s bells, he already met five out of the six must haves on her list. He was hot and had already proved it, for starters; he loved nature and the outdoors, he was gentle, smart, and an animal in bed.

  In her opinion that last one should get two points, since he had the whole animal sex thing down — in more ways than one.

  As for her old required number six — job and/or money? Who the hell cared when he’d met all the others? She sure didn’t. She’d learned long ago, money didn’t and couldn’t buy you happiness.

  “Because you have such a gentle aura encircling your soul, Moss. You have the strength of ten men and don’t abuse that power,” she answered, breathless at being so close to him in the undressed state. Screw propriety, or what most would call slutty — she wanted him again. She wanted this stranger with a passion that, as far as she could tell, wouldn’t be sated any time soon. Much like a weary traveler lost in the Mojave Desert searching for water, she sought release with him and went with her instincts.

  Gathering her courage and going up on tiptoes again, she brushed her lips across his. The kiss was soft and gentle but with the slow, steaming velocity of a pressure cooker about to blow its top. She suckled his bottom lip, the only part of his mouth she could reach, nibbling until he rumbled beneath her hands splayed on his chest. She moved lower, to his nipples, where she repeated the process. A suck, nip, and swirl of her tongue until she heard the slight growl. His cock did a jig against her belly, and she took immense pride in knowing she caused these reactions from him.

  By God, but he tasted like heaven and fucked like hell. Hard and wild with a seemingly insatiable stamina. Where and how got his energy she hadn’t a clue, but if it could be bottled, he’d put all those energy drink companies out of business. His body was taut and tight under her exploring hands, and she couldn’t seem to keep her nails out of his flesh as she preened and pawed, leaving angry red trails in her nails’ wake. Moss didn’t seem to care, or maybe he did, but not in a bad way. She couldn’t help it; she was reacting to his feral responses. He seemed to bring out the animal in her.

  She blazed a lowering trail with her lips and tongue down the path of his ripped body. Tracing every ridge of every ab, pausing only once to glance up when she realized exactly how hard she had raked her nails across his body. She saw no pain etched in his fine features. Quite the contrary — what she saw reflected back from him screamed rock-hard need. Need for release and the desire for her mouth to continue until she reached her ultimate goal, which, by the way he gazed down on her lowering body, was his ultimate goal as well.

  “Bethhhhhhh,” he groaned as his head lolled back and his body all but vibrated. The gritted, gruff sound sent shivers streaking across her bared flesh. It demanded, yet pleaded for the promised release. His muscles twitched in barely contained restraint, and that restraint only added fuel to the fire burning deep.

  When she reached her prize, she settled down onto her knees and grasped him in both hands, still awed at his length and girth. Working two hands simultaneously, she manipulated him so that her hands almost covered his entire length. She slowly alternated movements, going first upwards in a sort of sliding, twisting movement until reaching his base, then repeating the process back up his shaft, circling its blunt, silken head. Grunts and hisses became all the encouragement she needed.

  When she took pity upon him and slowly covered him with the heat of her mouth, she thought his legs almost buckled from beneath him. She wet her lips and ran her tongue down and over his length, lubricating him with her mouth and tongue before opening wide to work him in. It took some effort, but she managed most of him before drawing downward to swirl her tongue around the head of his shaft. He was much larger than most and proved quite challenging to take too deeply, but damn if she wasn’t going to at least try.

  His hands tangled in her hair as he grasped her head and pulled in time with his thrusting hips. She savored the ecstasy of the moment. Wow. She was a bit relieved when he seemed to catch himself from becoming too aggressive, refraining from what would have been an awkward moment to say the least. Considering the size of him — hell, she would have had to be rushed to an emergency room. She really didn’t want to explain to any doctors how her tonsils had become dislocated.

  His hands were still in her hair, fisting it by handfuls, but he didn’t thrust or forcibly hold her in place. Instead he gave her freedom of movement to suck and pull, nip and lick.

  As she attempted to get her fill of his unique taste, she used one hand to squeeze and carefully roll his drawn sac, loving each and every ragged breath he took, floating in the exquisite thought that she held this much power over him.

  Her. Plain Jane Beth, caused this gorgeous, wild, erotic man to tremble like putty in her ministrations. It was such a womanly feeling to be able to give such pleasure.

  Not until his body stiffened and his shaft seemed to swell did he pull her away. He looked as though he were trying not only to catch his breath b
ut also to hold back his release. She saw him struggling to regain control of his body. Watched his lids close, brows furrow, sweat bead, and breathing go from uncontrolled and ragged to smooth and even.

  Running her nails over his muscular thighs, she kissed the inside of each thigh and noted the beautiful tattoo she’d seen earlier had spread to cover almost his entire body.

  Its iridescent details enhanced his every feature, belaying a strange, erotic, and hypnotizing glow. Staring left her dazed and edgy with a need that clawed deep in her gut. She noted he appeared no more in control than she, as the tattoos seemed to cast a spell that drew them into a sexual frenzy.

  He grabbed her, and her feet left the floor. She had no choice but to wrap her long legs about his firm, sweat-sheeted hips, clinging on for what was shaping up to be the ride of a lifetime. His lips claimed hers, no longer gentle or controlled, just hungry and demanding. His hands went under her ass, his grip fierce, and the way their bodies slipped against each other was pure heaven. She wanted to scream, maybe hiss — she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Beth let go of all inhibitions and allowed her instincts to guide her. Each slide of their bodies drew her core closer; he’d almost entered her twice now. His cock slipped between her folds and began the initial stretch, then his next step took him farther away. His slow play was driving her insane.

  “Now,” she pleaded, voice shaking with need.

  He mumbled something but did not heed her call; instead he continued walking them toward the moonlight and the open window, stopping to set her upon the sill. Out of habit she threw her legs down to steady herself. But the problem was, there was no way her legs would hold her at this stage of the game. Her body was on fire, and raw hunger brought forth primal urges to bite and scream. Sink her teeth in his flesh, taste him, ride him. She didn’t want gentle — she needed hard, rough, and now, damn it.