Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  Her mouth opened under his. She gasped and then twisted against him, her hands clenching and unclenching on his shoulders. She felt so wonderful, so soft and warm and inviting. His touch grew more urgent. He wanted everything from her, and he wanted it now. He felt her heart speed up. Tiny whimpers spilled from her lips, her breathing grew shallow, ragged. And way too fast. Suddenly, he knew that her nerves were winning. He was moving too fast. He was losing her.

  “Hang on a sec,” he whispered, forcing himself to pull away. He rested his forehead against hers, and struggled for words. “Just, uh, give me a minute to get out of this shirt, okay?”

  She looked at him, eyes wide and frightened. He almost winced at the panic on her face. Then his words appeared to sink in. She nodded and, almost reluctantly it seemed, released her grip on his shirt.

  He sat up, and deliberately turned his back to her. He forced his hands to move methodically over the buttons of his shirt. He needed to slow down, to get a little control over the desire that raged within him, to give her a chance to catch up. It was so important that they do this right. He didn’t know why it should seem so critical; why he should feel as if his entire future happiness depended upon this one night. He only knew it did. Slowly, he peeled off his shirt, then reached down to remove his socks.

  “So,” he said, struggling to make his tone casual, “I guess this is the part where I ask whether or not you need me to wear a condom.” He shrugged, still not looking at her, as he started on his pants. “It seems to be a big topic with us. I’m okay without one, but...”

  He heard her laugh a little self-consciously. “Oh. Yeah, it’s been so long, I’d almost forgotten about that. But I uh, I had my tubes tied after I had the twins, so pregnancy’s no longer an issue. And I did get tested, you know, after I found out what Alex had been up to. But it turned out he hadn’t picked anything up, after all. And…well, there hasn’t been anyone since then so... I guess we’re good to go.”

  “Excellent,” he said, turning back around to face her. She was lying on her back, arms crossed behind her head, staring at the ceiling. He felt vaguely disappointed. He thought maybe she’d take advantage of his turned back to remove her own clothing, but no such luck. The cloak she’d shed fast enough in the glade still hid her from his sight.

  He studied her expression. She looked tired and thoughtful, and completely unheated, which depressed him no end. She also looked more relaxed than he’d seen her all night, and it bugged the shit out of him that it was the thought of her ex-husband that had done it.

  He reached for her, and gathered her close again, grinning as he said, “That must have been a real good news/bad news kind of thing, for you, huh? You were healthy, but so was he?”

  “Yeah,” she chuckled, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “The lucky bastard. How’d you know? That’s exactly how I felt about it.”

  He shrugged and tightened his arms around her. “The guy sounds like a jerk. I haven’t even met him yet, and I want him dead.”

  He kissed her again, and this time her response was everything he’d hoped for. Her lips slid across his mouth to trap his lower lip between them. And then she did the same with his upper lip, again and again, tempting, teasing, tormenting.

  Once more, impatience seized him. Clasping her head in his hands to hold her still, he deepened the kiss. Her tongue twined readily with his; dancing and dueling as she snuggled close and then closer still.

  Finally, convinced that she was ready, and unable to wait any longer himself, he reached for the clasp that closed the cloak at her throat, and almost groaned aloud in frustration as he felt the sharp intake of her breath.

  She tore her mouth away from his. “Don’t you want to turn out that light first?” she squeaked, nervous all over again.

  He rested his hand lightly on her chest and studied her curiously. “Not particularly.” He shrugged, struggling a little with his breathing. “I kinda like to see what I’m doing. And who I’m doing it with.”

  “Oh.” She stared up at him uncertainly, a dull, red blush staining her cheeks.

  “Is that okay with you?”

  She bit her lip. “I, uh... I guess so.”

  “What is it you’re so afraid of?” he asked as gently as he could, stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Please. Tell me what I’m doing wrong here.”

  “Oh, God.” She turned her face away from him. Her voice was so low he could barely hear her. She sighed tremulously as she answered, “Please, Sam, don’t think that. It’s not you, really. It’s just that I’ve never...”

  “You’ve never what?” he teased. “You’ve never left the light on before?”

  To his surprise, she shrugged and nodded. He stared at her. That’s what was bothering her? She could waltz around naked in the glade, proud and confident as a goddess, and yet here, with him – it made no sense. “Why not?”

  She shrugged again. “My body. It isn’t… I mean, I know it doesn’t look that great, and I…I told you about the scars, didn’t I? No one’s ever... I mean, I guess it can be something of a turn-off for a man, if... if he’s not expecting it.” A ragged laugh escaped her. “Or, even if he is.”

  And this time he did groan, dropping his forehead onto the mattress, as she fell silent beside him. Oh, man! It was almost funny. A turn-off. As if his body hadn’t been aching all night for her. Hell, all week, for that matter. Was she kidding? She really had no idea how she affected him?

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I like what I’ve seen so far, and that was just about everything you’ve got, doll. So, I really don’t think we’re gonna have a problem.”

  “But it was dark,” she whispered pleadingly, “You said yourself, you couldn’t see much.”

  He chuckled, turning his head so he could nibble along the edge of her ear “You mean you really didn’t guess that I was lying? You mustn’t have been paying attention. Think about it,” he murmured around her earlobe. “The full moon? All that moonlight? Besides, I told you once before, I have excellent night vision.”

  She gave another small, strangled laugh and twisted around to face him. “Oh,” she said, sounding sheepish.

  “That’s right, oh,” he told her, silencing any other protests she might have felt like making with a kiss as he quickly unfastened the clasp and slipped his hand inside to cup her breast. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her nipple harden against his palm. His hand tightened around her.

  “So, tell me,” he whispered, forcing the words past the constriction in his throat, “You’re not gonna torture me like this all night, are you? Because I want you so damn much right now, I can barely breathe. And if I have to wait much longer, I—”

  She bit her lip. “You really could see—”

  “Everything,” he insisted, sliding the zipper down, and gently pushing the soft folds of cloth aside. She shivered slightly as the cloak fell open at last, revealing her to his gaze. Almost everything, he corrected, silently. Her skin had gleamed like alabaster in the moonlight, but now— “Oh, how perfect,” he breathed reverently as his eyes tracked the smooth march of freckles – gold – across the pale peach of her skin.

  He trailed his fingers down between her breasts and then flattened his hand on her stomach. Her skin was as soft and delicate as a rose’s petals, but he could feel as well as see the network of raised lines and welts and shiny, puckered skin that showed where she’d been hurt. He traced lightly over the scars with his fingertips. Christ, she sure hadn’t exaggerated anything about that accident, had she? It looked as if she’d shattered, and had been pieced back together. He thought about her—torn, broken and bleeding—and wondered at the courage and the strength she must have needed in order to survive. He wanted to bury himself within her, and feel that strength engulfing him.

  Her breasts rose and fell more quickly as his hand slid back up to cup their softness. Her nipples, hard against his caressing palm, grew even harder on his tongue.

  Only a week ago, he’d been so
sure she wasn’t his type, but in this moment, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else. He raised his head to look her in the face. “You’re so absolutely perfect,” he whispered.

  He heard the sharp in-take of her breath. She gazed back at him with so much heat smoldering in the depths of her eyes that the urge to see it all explode in flames suddenly overwhelmed any other need he had.

  He smiled at her slowly, and then dipped his head to lick a long, leisurely path down the length of her stomach, his hands forging ahead of his mouth to gently part her legs. She trembled beneath his hands, gasping softly as he reached his destination, but she offered no resistance as he settled himself between her thighs.

  Perfect. The word reverberated in Marsha’s head as she sank back onto the bed and closed her eyes. Oh, he was good. For the life of her she couldn’t understand why he felt he had to flatter her at this point. Except that, obviously, flattery was going to get him anywhere he wanted to go, where she was concerned. Yeah, I’m a sucker all right, she thought a little ruefully. Tell me the pretty lies, and I’m all yours. It took real talent, though, to say something like that—something he couldn’t possibly mean, not in a trillion years—and yet make her believe him, all the same.

  But then, the man was obviously loaded with all sorts of talent. Her body shuddered in response to his touch, and she barely repressed a heartfelt moan.

  If she had thought the feel of his fingers against her skin was exquisite, the touch of his tongue was unbearably so. It was like being slowly stroked all over with warm, wet, velvet. Then that tongue licked into her, and any thoughts she might have had after that were lost amid all the twisting, coiling sensations welling up inside her. Her hands clenched in the sheets. Fire sizzled along her veins as she felt his moustache brush against her inner thigh. And when his mouth closed on her clitoris, and began to suck there, she lost her mind completely.

  Always before, whenever Alex had made the attempt, her pleasure had been limited by his obvious lack of interest. But Sam... oh, dear God... Sam clearly had no such reservations. He was acting as if he couldn’t get enough of her, softly lapping and pulling at her sensitive flesh, with lips and tongue and teeth. Pausing now and again to allow his long, slender fingers to slide through her wetness, coaxing and caressing, spreading her more fully. And then his hot, hot mouth would be on her again. It took a while – several minutes, at least – before she realized the strange sounds that had filled the room were issuing from her own throat. The realization was like being doused with ice water. She gasped and jammed her fist into her mouth. Her eyes flew open.

  And she could hardly avoid noticing, with a wrenching agony – part rampaging need, part intense mortification – that he had stilled as well. Heart thumping in embarrassment, she raised her head and peered anxiously at him down the length of her body.

  He gazed back at her. “Is something wrong?” he inquired politely. She tried to shake her head, but didn’t seem to be able to make her body do anything she wanted it to. “There’s nobody for miles around, you know, so I don’t think you gotta worry about waking the neighbors. And please don’t keep quiet on my account.” He laughed softly and brushed another kiss against the inside of her thigh. “Because I was really enjoying that.”

  “Maybe you’d better stop,” she said, finally locating her voice.

  His eyes snapped shut for an instant and some expression she couldn’t quite identify flashed across his face. Anger, perhaps. Or frustration. Or, maybe disappointment.

  “All right.” He sighed, heavily. His warm breath blasting across her wet skin sent shivers racing through her, and she whimpered, her need for him so immense she could hardly bear it.

  He glanced up again, quickly. His eyes glinted and the merest hint of a smile touched his lips. “That is... if you’re sure that’s what you really want?” He lowered his head and, ever so lightly, ran the tip of his tongue, just once, around the swollen bud of her clitoris. She quivered at his touch. “Well, is it?” he asked, as he repeated the action, “Or, maybe, I should just—”

  His tongue flicked quickly back and forth across her sensitive flesh. Once. And then once more. And then again.

  And then, “Oh, God. Oh, please. Oh, don’t stop. Please,” she begged as flames seared through her. Her head fell back against the bed once more, and her mouth gaped open in a long, low, attenuated cry of pleasure she couldn’t have stopped by any means.

  “Ahh, much better. I was hoping you’d say that.” His chuckle was still echoing in her ears as everything inside her shattered into dazzling, radiant brilliance.

  She was still gasping in wonder when she felt him surge on top of her and plunge himself deep within her, with one incredibly satisfying thrust that would have had her crying out again, had he not at the same time taken her mouth with his own. She clasped him to her tightly as he rocked into her, again and again, with a hard, driving rhythm that stole her breath. His mouth tasted hot and weird and wonderful, and the realization that she was tasting herself on his lips was enough to cause the flames she’d thought had been extinguished to flare back to life, burning within her even more fiercely than before.

  She wanted to feel him deep within her – she needed to feel him there. Needed to feel the long, hard length of him make everything inside her grow tight and achy. She planted her heels on the bed and arched against him, matching him thrust for thrust, the sensations spinning her out of control all over again. This time, she didn’t even think to stop the cry that broke from her lips when his mouth found her breast and catapulted her over the edge again, and back into brightness.

  An instant later, she felt him go rigid in her arms as he shuddered with the force of his own climax.

  Awareness returned slowly, unaccompanied by either the will or the ability to move – or to speak, or even to think clearly. All of which she seemed to have lost somewhere along the way; none of which she missed. She sighed contentedly. They lay side by side, facing each other, legs entwined, and when her gaze drifted lazily up to his face, she realized he was staring at her. She returned his gaze, trying to smile, but not quite succeeding. Her face seemed to have stuck on astonishment. She was a little relieved to notice he didn’t seem to be faring much better. He looked rather stupefied, she thought, although not unpleasantly so.

  He stirred, finally, and for a moment she thought he might speak, but he merely snagged one of her hands, bringing it to his lips for a brief kiss. Then his eyes fell shut, and he fell into sleep, still holding her hand in his.

  Her breath stuttered, and her heart lurched out of rhythm as emotion blossomed within it. She stared at him helplessly, too terrified of what she might be feeling to even dare name it. After a moment, the painful racing of her heart slowed. Her body was too replete to sustain a state of panic for very long. What did it care if she was courting heartbreak? Even her brain seemed disinclined to pursue the subject. Defeated, she followed him into sleep.

  When she opened her eyes, the glade was bathed in sunlight. Celeste’s laughter shimmered in the air around them. Marsha grinned at her friend, across a table set as if for a party, with tea and scones and tiny little sandwiches. She tried to take a sip of tea, but couldn’t get any closer than lifting her cup to her lips.

  “I think you’d have to go a little deeper than normal REM sleep to actually get much flavor out of that,” Celeste remarked casually. “But hey, it’s about time you dropped by for a visit, sweetie. I’ve missed you.”

  Marsha felt tears sting her eyes as memory returned. “Oh, Celeste, I’ve missed you, too. So much has been happening.”

  Her friend smiled tenderly. “Don’t I know it. In point of fact, there’s a lot more happening then you’re even aware of, yet. You really need to ask Lucy about these violets, by the way.”

  “The violets?” Marsha looked around, puzzled. The lawn was dotted here and there with blue and yellow violets. She didn’t remember there being so many of them when she was out here with Sam – was it only a week ago? �
��Sam likes them, I think,” she told Celeste, forgetting for the moment that Celeste couldn’t know who Sam was. Or could she?

  “Yes, well, lovely for him, but I’m afraid that’s not the point. It’s Autumn, if you’ll remember. Just talk to Lucy. Okay?”

  “Sure. Okay.” Marsha nodded, but her heart was heavy. She knew by the profound sense of loss creeping over her that the dream was coming to an end. Soon, the whole glade would waver and disappear.

  “Now listen to me, Marsha. You need to be careful,” Celeste spoke insistently. “I don’t want to see you getting hurt again.”

  “Oh, I’m afraid it’s a little late for that.” Marsha sighed. “I think I’m already in big trouble.”

  Celeste laughed. “Yes, but that sort of trouble is something you’ve needed for years.” Her eyes twinkled as she continued, “I, of course, would have been more than happy to have provided you with some, if you’d been at all interested.”

  “Oh, Celeste,” Marsha moaned, her heart aching for her friend. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” Celeste waved it aside. “People can’t help being who they are. You should know that by now. Anyway, I always knew it was just a matter of time before you ended up in my bed. Although, I have to say, dearie, I did kind of plan on being there, too. But I guess that’s life... or not, in my case, come to think of it.” Her laugh tinkled through the air, clear as bells. “Please, tell me that he’s good, though? Better than Alex, at least?”

  Marsha giggled. “Good? Oh, yeah. Oh, God, yeah...”

  Sam came awake slowly in the middle of the night, dragged into consciousness by a sound that was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He stretched, pleasantly aware of a bone deep satisfaction that pulsed in every cell. Damn, but he felt good. Better than he had in a very long time. The sound came again, and a wide smile broke across his face as he identified its source. He opened his eyes. Marsha lay sprawled on her back in the bed beside him, sound asleep and giggling. Dear God, she has a sexy laugh, he thought, as he turned on his side to watch her. But then, he suspected he was going to find pretty much everything about her sexy, after tonight.