“Stop it.” Her voice sounded weak but low and husky. Need pulsed in her veins as her body tightened and sex slickened, readying her for him.
The shadows receded into him, and the room grew brighter. Her arousal continued, but she ignored it.
“Drop your pants and panties, and I’ll prep you and insert the plug and bullet.” He stood before her; a stubborn glint filled his eyes. His brown hair was combed back, away from his face, but a few waves brushed his chin. His bright turquoise eyes darkened to a deep blue that reminded her of an inviting pool in the middle of a quiet forest. She blinked and shook her head. Don’t fall in, she ordered herself. Instead of focusing on him, she moved to the bed, undid the buttons on her fly, shoved down her jeans along with her panties, then placed her hands on the mattress and bent over.
She jerked when she felt the rasp of her sweater being pushed up and her heated flesh exposed to the cooler air of the room. Goose bumps broke out on her skin. His calloused palms slid over her back. His thumbs traced the column of her spine as he moved his touch down until he cupped her ass. He gave the mounds a firm squeeze and then a slap. Heat flushed through her ass and cascaded into her sex, adding to the growing arousal. The prickles of desire increased.
He spread the cheeks of her buttocks and dribbled the lube over her anus. The cold gel dampened her ardor for a bit. He rubbed the unguent in, circling the entrance before pressing his thumb in, then withdrawing it. He dipped the tip in again, deeper this time. The invasion burned and stretched the opening, sending pain through her backside. She clenched her jaw and waited for the next push. He worked her rear channel, taking his time until the heat faded and a small tendril of pleasure snaked through her groin.
“Patience.” He slipped his hand over her hip and teased her puffy labia with quick, flirting touches. She wiggled her ass and whimpered.
“That’s it. Relax into it,” he crooned.
“Damn it. Move your fingers. Fuck me.” All thoughts of talking and confronting him or working out their problems broke apart as his fingers spread her pussy lips and darted over her clit. Her instincts switched to pure pleasure.
“Do you agree that I’m in control?” The question came out raw and rough.
“Yes.” The single word was hissed out. Her hips bucked when he tapped the sensitive bundle of nerves.
He pushed his thumb farther into her back passage as he pressed on her clit, holding it down as a small orgasm began to build. A frustrated cry fell from her lips when he lifted his fingers from her clit and withdrew his thumb from her ass. He repeated the process, taking her closer to the edge and then retreated. Fire increased, burning higher and hotter within her. She didn’t even notice the glide of the anal plug into her ass. The ridges rubbed against walls, stimulating her nerve endings, adding to her desire. He slipped his hand between her thighs and urged them farther apart, his touch firm but gentle.
“Dean—” she started. Her words were cut off when he circled a blunt fingertip around her damp entrance before he slid it into her. He pulled out, then pushed forward, working her pussy until she didn’t think she could take any more. It wasn’t enough. She needed more heft, more pressure.
“Not yet.” His voice was strained and torn as if he was fighting against his better instincts.
“Damn it!”
The smooth head of the silver bullet slipped inside her, giving her just enough of the girth that she needed. He pressed a kiss to her nape and drew down her top. “Pull up your panties and jeans. Time to go.”
He gave her ass a swift slap and then sidestepped her and strode toward the bathroom. Frustration brought back her angst. “Asshole,” she muttered.
“I heard that,” he called out.
She pulled up her underwear and pants and closed the buttons on her fly. Desire buzzed around her body. She felt alive, saturated with light and energy. The silver bullet wasn’t wide enough to give her the friction she needed, but from the placement, she felt it against her G-spot—enough to start something but not enough for the fireworks. She wanted to undo her fly, push her fingers past the waistband of her panties, and reach down and fiddle with the antenna, see if she could work it against that sweet place to make herself come. Instead, she gritted her teeth and decided not to do anything. Who knew what Dean’s plans were, but if he didn’t let her come, she’d take care of it herself.
The water in the bathroom stopped, and Dean appeared in the doorway. “Ready to go?” Determination hardened his face, but there was a glint in his eye she recognized.
“As I’ll ever be. What about food?” Normally she was the one to make the meals. He did some cooking, like for breakfast, but mostly she was in charge of the kitchen.
“I took care of that. Don’t worry. I won’t poison you.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed at her until she felt the need to squirm.
“I know, but—” She didn’t want to sound whiny, but she was used to some sense of control. Being in the know settled her, allowed her to make appropriate decisions, and gave her a sense of security. Growing up, she’d latched on to that sense of comfort of making sure people kept their word and people were where they said they were. Being the office manager to a bunch of hunters gave her control of the jobs they took, able to help or connect them to people who could help and know they were safe.
Dean was putting her in a situation where he knew what they were going to do and what that would entail. What was this truth or dare game? Was it real? She hadn’t looked over all the cards. She hated not knowing.
“Do you trust me?” His gaze darkened to inky blue, and for a second, she wondered if he was pissed at her. Did he think she believed that he would poison them? Or that she didn’t trust him?
She looked him over and nodded.
“No. I have to hear you say it.” His tone was low, dark, and filled with a promise.
The velvety timbre wrapped around her, caressed her bare arms, neck, face, danced along her ears, and slipped between her fingers to tickle her palms.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I trust you.” To a point. They might be mates, but there were still things that divided them, things she didn’t know and he didn’t understand about her.
“Good. Just follow me, and it will be pleasurable for you.” He gave her another wicked grin before striding past her and out the door.
She knew that. Would this all be worth it? Would this truly save their fraying relationship?
She followed him out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen, where a picnic basket sat on the old, scratched-up farm table they used to eat at. She darted over to sneak a peek at the goodies. Vibrations rocked her core. Tingles of pleasure cascaded along her nerve endings as her toes curled. An oncoming orgasm snaked around her body as she clenched her fists. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep some semblance of control. Her clit tingled, and she shook as the first wave began to form. The pressure increased; the fire in her body threatened to burn out of control. Sweat beads pearled on her skin and slipped down her temples.
“Dean…” she managed to get out before the sensations became too much and the rest of her sentence turned into a whimper.
The vibrations stopped, but her body didn’t. She came with desperate, incoherent cries falling from her lips.
“Next time. Don’t come until I say.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck before he moved around her and grabbed the basket and headed to the back door. “Coming?”
Again his voice was laden with that extra something filled with dark promises. At first she wasn’t sure she could move. Her legs trembled, and her panties were wet. She wanted to go back upstairs and change. Or maybe just not leave the house again—let him use the plug and silver bullet in the privacy of her bedroom.
She opened her mouth to say she had changed her mind, but his words stopped her. “If you don’t go on the picnic, you won’t know what you want to know, and you won’t come unless you do it yourself.”
With a growl, she followed, hating that he
knew what to say to get her to move. It wasn’t just an orgasm she was chasing. It was finally understanding the man she was mated to and loved.
Rather than take the car, they walked. He grabbed her hand as he led her toward Main Street.
“I did my research, and I know there’s a park at the end of the road. So we get to walk to it, and you get to tell me what’s good around here. I’ve already been in the florist and the bakery place. What else?” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. The simple gesture sent tingles up her arm. Her nipples tightened, and an electric charge shot straight to her pussy.
“Um.” She licked her lips. Her body felt heavy and full, waiting for him to do something else. “Well, there’s the pizza place,” she started.
“As good as deep dish?” he asked, voice light, as if he didn’t hold the key to her pleasure in his hand.
“It’s made by fairies. What do you think?” Anticipation rode her nerve endings as she waited for him to do anything, use the remote, or say something. So far, nothing. She tried not to grit her teeth and order him to make his move. She’d agreed to this, and he was in control.
“Are they the same fairies from your tribe?” The question was asked in a soft tone. Why, she didn’t know. She’d never told him about her backstory.
“No. My people have different abilities.” Carrie didn’t want to say that she didn’t actually know what her people did. And since her fairy abilities hadn’t shown up, with the exception of sparks when her emotions got the better of her, she wasn’t sure what else she could say. She had been meaning to see someone within the local fairy community to ask if they knew where she was from, but she was too scared to find out any information. For all she knew, she was the last of her line and there was nothing to tell.
“We’ve never discussed your people.” Again that low tenor from him.
“No need to walk on eggshells.” The words came out rough and tense.
He grabbed her arm in a loose hold that she could break if she pulled hard enough. His bright blue eyes glimmered with pinpricks of gold and red and orange. “No need to get pissed. I’m trying to get you to open up here without the cards. Give me something to work with.”
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out through her mouth. “Okay. It’s just a touchy subject. Can we try something different? Easier?”
He released her arm and looked her over. His scrutiny left a heated imprint on her body, pressing under the skin. He stroked his chin. “Fine. What’s your favorite position?” A glint sparkled in his eyes, and his lips twitched before he gave her a full-on smile.
She rolled her eyes and sighed.
“What? You wanted easier.” He continued to grin at her.
She could only shake her head as she resisted a chuckle. “Fine. Kneeling. Mastery position. You know, where you’re sitting up, and I would be straddling your lap.”
He groaned. “We’ll have to try that sometime. Your turn to ask me something.”
She thought things over. She didn’t want to give him a sex question. If this was supposed to be meaningful, she wanted to ask things that mattered. “When did you become a hunter?”
Sadness filled his eyes. “I was sixteen. Scrawny, gangly, uncoordinated. A real wreck waiting to happen.”
She felt pain radiating off him in waves. Without a thought, she reached out, grabbed his hand, and gave it a squeeze.
“So why’d you agree to be our office manager?” The question came out of nowhere. At first she wasn’t sure why he was even asking her.
She decided to answer anyway. “I thought you knew. During college I acted as a research assistant for a hunter—good money, odd hours—but it gave me enough to put some away to pay off student loans and had extra to buy actual food, not junk food or pizza. He told me about your operation, and I interviewed with you once I graduated.”
Dean chuckled. “Ah yeah. I remember now. Old Deeks recommended you to me. Up until then we had a harpy who hated me but needed the job before she could retire.
She shook her head. “Sadie didn’t hate you. She was just tired of you asking that she fetch coffee and do stupid things like get you meals. You drove her crazy. Next question.”
“I forgot about that. I never had time to go out and eat, and if I didn’t ask her to get me food, I’d forget I was hungry. All right. When did you know you wanted to be with me?”
She almost tripped on the sidewalk. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks and neck. She hadn’t expected that question. For a moment she contemplated not telling him of her teenager-like crush on him. The vibrations caught her off guard. They rippled through her body as her muscles tensed, and her toes curled as pleasure hit her in waves.
His body heat pressed against her on the left side. “Answer the question and I let you come,” he whispered in her ear.
That single dark, sweet promise filled her up with warmth. She curled her fingers into fists; her nails dug into the skin of her palms. She swallowed. Did she want to embarrass herself or climax? A frustrated groan welled up in her throat. “From day one when you smiled at me,” she confessed. The words rushed out like they were on fire and she just had to get them out.
“Day one, huh?” His voice was darker. His humid breath teased the shell of her ear. “Funny. I knew I wanted you from day one too.”
He dragged his lips along the side of her throat. She shivered as the desire coiled tighter in her belly. “Day one,” he mouthed against her sensitive skin.
The vibrations increased. Her body shook as she tried to stay standing. A scream clawed its way up her lungs and to her throat. Small whimpers managed to escape her lips as she tried to push the cry back.
“Let go. Let it all go.” He bit a small patch of skin and sucked it into his mouth.
Her knees trembled, and she let out a scratchy, pained moan. The orgasm hit her, overwhelmed her until she felt like an inflamed nerve ending. Her toes and fingers hurt from their coiled position. She sagged against him. He wrapped an arm around her and guided her down the street. “Come on. There’s more where that came from.”
How they got to the park with her rubbery legs was beyond her. They found a nice shady spot off the beaten path and spread out a blanket and placed the basket. Once everything was done, she sat down.
He gave her a wolfish grin, full of teeth and mischief. “Now the real fun begins.”
She wasn’t sure she’d survive his version of fun if what he’d done on the street was any indication. Energy jittered along her muscles. Tension filled her legs and arms. She wanted to clench her fists and curl her toes, hold, and then release so her limbs could relax. Her gaze darted around the spread from the picnic basket to Dean to his hands and back to the container. She flexed her fingers and shook her legs. The urge to get up and pace rode her as the seconds slipped by.
“De—”
He held up the pack of cards and cut off her words with a single action. She licked her lips and swallowed. Her heart did a nervous flutter, and she swallowed again, waiting to see what he would do. Dean flipped up the lid, shook out the cards, put the package down, shuffled the deck, then spread out the cards. He indicated the fan. “Pick two cards.”
She examined the black scrollwork pattern on each card and held her hand over the spread. Energy pulsed from the objects. Her palm tingled with the magic that tickled and caressed her flesh. She hadn’t felt that charge before. Interesting, she thought. She selected two cards and handed them to Dean, not sure if she should’ve looked at them or not.
Light filled his eyes as he accepted her choices. “Not curious about your fate?”
“Tell me what I’m supposed to tell you or what I have to do.” She wanted to get this over with; the waiting was chafing her nerves.
He chuckled. “Scared? My sweet fairy is scared. Interesting. Okay, here we go.” He looked down at her picks. “You can either tell me about your first kiss or bark like a dog, your choice.”
She stared at him, laughter bubbling up inside of her. “T
hat easy, huh? Fine, kiss. It was Sean Drews, and we were in first grade. I had just come off the slide when he declared that I was his girlfriend and kissed me on the lips. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t been rolling around in the dirt before that.” She shook her head and shuddered. “Couldn’t get the taste of dirt out of my mouth for a few days.”
He chuckled.
“My best friend at the time got her first kiss from a kid who was recovering from the chicken pox. He came back to school too early and, well, she ended up with the pox a few days later. Blech.” She winced at the memory.
Dean’s face scrunched up in disgust. He placed the cards face up next to the fan and chose two cards of his own. He handed them to her, facedown. “What’s my fate?” He turned and began to unpack the basket: a few sandwiches, seltzer water and sodas, carrot sticks, plastic plates and utensils, and two covered bowls of soup. “Simple, fair, but quick to make. Now tell me.”
She read the cards and grinned. “What was your first sexual experience, or you can do the chicken dance.”
He stared at her. “What the fuck is the chicken dance?”
She could only shake her head at his lack of knowledge. “You don’t…how could you not… I’m so not showing you. So which is it?”
“Is the dance that bad?” He handed her a sandwich and a seltzer water.
“Not bad…” She paused to think on how to describe it. “It’s just silly.”
“Ah, so made for humiliation. No. My first sexual experience was when I was sixteen, drunk on pilfered beers. It was messy. We didn’t know what we were doing and got shit wrong. I ripped two condoms and got the last one right. I came after three strokes inside her. I was so nervous, and she gave me a hickey.” His face softened, and a smile lit his eyes. He began to guffaw. “Dalton walked in on us and scared the shit out of me. Pulled a gun on both of us. Claimed he thought I was being attacked by a werewolf or something. Turns out she was. As embarrassing as that was, I wouldn’t take it back for the world.”
Eostre's Baskets: Stacking the Deck Page 5
