by Nia K. Foxx
Gordy watched with half closed eyes as Fatima’s perfect breasts bounced for his enjoyment. He reached for the globes, tweaking each nipple.
“Harder,” she ordered.
He complied eagerly, exerting pressure until she cried out in pleasure. She ground her hips into him with such force he thought they would meld permanently.
“That’s it, baby, fuck me. I’ve wanted you for so long; I knew it would be like this.”
“Less talking, more fucking,” she gasped, leaning forward, which allowed him to take her hard nipples in his mouth.
“So sweet,” he said from around one dark nub, biting firmly until she yelped.
“It’s so good, so good,” he chanted, feeling the buildup beginning. He wanted to prolong the sensation for as long as possible, but the faster she slammed over his arousal the less likely he was to last.
“I’m going to come, baby,” he groaned.
“Oh, yes, fill me up with your cum. My body is so hungry for you,” she begged, convulsing around him until he complied. Her vaginal walls contracted to milk every drop.
Just when Gordy thought he couldn’t give any more he felt her thirsty channel drinking him dry.
“Give me a minute, baby,” he complained, trying to dislodge her rotating hips from him.
“No, I want more,” Her voice was strained as she pushed his arms away with unbelievable strength.
Gordy tried to force a laugh. “I promise in a minute, five tops.”
“No… must have more… now,” she panted, riding him harder.
Gordy heard the distinct sound of bones cracking before the pain registered in his brain.
“Get off me!” he said, panic-stricken, trying frantically to dislodge her.
“I want it all, all of you.” She pounded into him with added force.
He tried to speak but found his vocal cords didn’t work beyond allowing for several squeaking sounds to emit. His body throbbed painfully while the woman rode him fiercely. He was weakened from the continuous sucking of her hungry pussy. For a brief moment he wondered why Fatima would do this to him, but through the haze of pain remembered it wasn’t her. It was the succubus, the demon who was sucking the very life out of his body. His last thoughts were of how he should have listened to Fatima’s warnings.
Chapter Twelve
The trans-Atlantic flight ended as the private plane landed in the Lyon airport. Fatima expected them to drive the remainder of the way only to be escorted to a helicopter. She settled in the back seat while Lorn rode shotgun. He’d said little more than two words to her the entire time with the exception of ordering her to eat.
“My son will require sustenance beyond the meager snacks you call meals,” he informed her.
If she had any doubts as to why he wanted her back, his comment said it all. Like the women discussed in his mother’s journal, she was going to be used as a brood mare for him. How long would be keep her before passing her on to the next gargoyle? She wondered, staring out the window. She felt like a prisoner being returned to jail after a failed escape. Their silent ride was filled with thoughts of horrendous forms of punishment she might endure at Lorn’s hands. Would he beat her once he got her to his estate?
Pierre was present as she entered the castle.
“Hello, madame.” He bowed. Fatima paused at the sight of him without the black cap. Pointed ears jutted upward from underneath thick white hair which hung halfway down his back.
“Hello, Pierre.”
“It is good to have you home.” Sincerity etched his voice.
Home? Is that what it is supposed to be? She thought as she smiled politely.
“Take her upstairs,” Lorn ordered without preamble. “I’ll be in my offices.”
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Pierre commented once they reached the second story landing.
For what, she almost asked, but immediately remembered her pregnancy.
“Thank you,” she replied. He led her to the bedroom she’d previously shared with Lorn. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she’d been in his home enjoying all the wonderful lessons in lovemaking he had to share. She paused just outside the room, remembering how things were the last time she’d slept there.
“Can I bring you anything up before you retire?”
“No, thank you,” she answered graciously. “Good night, Pierre.”
“Good night, madame.”
She showered before slipping into a nightshirt. Climbing in between the soft rich sheets which smelled so much like Lorn, she tried to remember what his mother had written about the cruelties his kind inflicted on the Fledglings. Finally she drifted to sleep contemplating what fate awaited her at his hands.
***
Lorn watched the sleeping woman for several seconds, struggling to resist the urge to climb in the bed next to her, to feel her against him. He’d dreamt of her so many nights right there waiting for him, calling his name as she begged for his touch. He wished he were strong enough to walk away from her, but god have mercy on his soul, he was weak where she was concerned.
Fatima arched against the hungry mouth feasting on her distended clit. It felt so real. She reached down expecting to touch air but instead coming in contact with thick soft hair.
“No.” She moaned, her eyes opening to see familiar emerald ones looking up at her heatedly. “Please,” she begged but wasn’t certain herself if she wanted him to stop or continue.
Lorn ignored her whimpers as he indulged himself on her woman’s juices. His tongue flicked over her hard nub while she ground her hairless mound into his mouth. He lapped at her in long strokes, enjoying how she squirmed in response, keeping her legs spread wide, with gentle hands, for his lips’ indulgence.
“I’m going to come,” she panted.
In response Lorn hummed against her sensitive nub, delving two fingers deeply into her welcoming core until she contracted against his digits, her orgasm wracking every fiber of her body.
She didn’t have a chance to completely recover from the sensation before he was kneeling over her, pushing his ready cock into her wet channel, reacquainting her with his thickness. Her body stretched around his staff as if welcoming him home.
“Mine,” he rasped, punctuating his words with a thrust anchoring him balls deep inside of her. “All mine.”
“Oohh, Lorn,’ she moaned.
“Yes, ma cherie, I know.” He stroked her with long deep thrusts. “Too long,” he moaned, his thrusts increasing, becoming more demanding.
Her nightshirt rode up over her breasts, giving him full view of the bouncing dark globes. He anchored one of her legs around his waist while leaning over her to take a rigid nipple in his mouth. He plucked the sensitive skin, grazing teeth over it until she arched into him. Her fingers buried in his hair, taking a firm hold.
How she hated he could easily reduce her to this.
“More,” she begged, and wasn’t disappointed when he sought her other nipple for equal enjoyment.
She was coming undone again from the force of his relentless cock and pleasuring mouth.
“Dear god!”
He raised his head to stare into her eyes. “That’s it, baby, come for me.”
Almost on cue she did, but only seconds before he exploded in her with a strangled cry. His seed flooded her womb in several warm spurts.
***
Within a week after her return, things had fallen into a semblance of normalcy she assumed would be her life for as long as she remained with Lorn. In the mornings she slept late only to come down to a breakfast large enough for two. Lorn was usually holed up in his office or out and about on the grounds by the time she awoke. Most days she wouldn’t see him until lunch or dinner. At night he seemed to make a point of reintroducing her to his brand of lovemaking, sometimes rough, other times gentle, but always satisfying.
She hated her body for betraying her the way it did each night, when she begged for him, all the while knowing what she needed to do was keep her wits about her.
>
One afternoon she’d gone for a leisurely swim with Sara and Luc, who were grateful to be rid of the ridiculous caps hiding their elfish ears, when Lorn stormed in on them.
“What the hell are you doing?” he raged.
Not sure whom he was addressing, they all began to speak at once.
“Leave us,” he ordered her two friends, eyes fastened on his bikini-clad mate, who tread water in the deep end of the pool.
Fatima was tempted to follow the two elves but knew such an action would add to his already unsavory disposition.
“We were just swimming,” she began, deciding to exit the pool on the side farthest from him.
“In your condition?”
“I’m pregnant, not injured, and exercise is recommended for pregnant women,” she defended, grabbing up a towel.
“And do you think your attire is appropriate for a pregnant woman?” He indicated her suit.
She looked down at the white bikini. “I think it’s quite appropriate for the pool,” she answered, knowing he was spoiling for a fight. “But since I’m obviously done I’ll go upstairs and change.”
“No.” He crossed the length of the pool with supernatural speed. “Perhaps I will join you.”
“I think I’ve had enough water for today.” She tried to back away only to be held in place by a restraining hand.
“So, do you just object to swimming with me, or would you much prefer the company of a certain little elf?”
“What?” she asked with genuine surprise.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way he ogles you.”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t. I rarely see Luc. He’s always on some errand for you.”
“Apparently I need to keep him better occupied.”
“What does it matter if I show interest in him or anyone else? It’s just a matter of time before you trade me off to another gargoyle. Or is that it – I can’t be involved with an elf at all?”
“You can’t be involved with anyone but me,” he barked.
“Yeah, for how long? Five years, ten, or is twenty customary?” At his silence she continued with her tirade. “I read your mother’s journal. I know what happens to Fledglings. It’s what I am, isn’t it? A breeder for your kind?”
“What journal are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed.
“The one the succubus gave me. It told what happened to the Fledglings. I know why your mother and the other women committed suicide. They would rather die than be treated like chattel by you so-called Protectors,” she spat. “So when is my time here over?” Who will I be given to next? If I have much of a choice I think Jean would make a good temporary mate.”
“Shut up!” he roared, his arms tightening around her until she blanched in pain. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve allowed yourself to be misled by the creature.”
“I didn’t need to hear anything from her. I read the journal with my own eyes. You all were guilty of mistreating the women. Your own father would not listen to your mother when she came to him to complain. They had no other choice. It was the gargoyles who caused this mess,” she accused.
“Where is this journal?” he demanded.
“I left it in the bungalow. Why, do you want to destroy the evidence of your ancestors’ misdoings?”
“I suggest you stop while you’re ahead. I will go for this journal, and in my absence you are to remain on the grounds. Understood?”
“Do I have any other option?”
“No.”
Of course not. “May I go and change now?”
“Go, but stay away from Luc while I’m away.”
***
Lorn had been gone for three days. Despite her best efforts, Fatima couldn’t help but think about him. During the time he hadn’t bothered to call or send word through anyone, at least not to her. She’d even listened for any comments from the staff but there was no information.
“He’s fine,” Sara assured her one evening while they sat out enjoying the crisp night air. Winter was rapidly approaching. There would be very few days left where they could swim without heating the pool, until spring.
“How can you be so certain?”
“Elves are empathic. If something had befallen him I would know.”
Fatima nodded, accepting the information without question. She’d learned much since her return about the elfin kind, quickly deciding she needed at least one ally in the enemy camp. Sara seemed like the best choice since they had developed a friendship during those weeks when she first arrived.
“In spite of what has happened in the past the gargoyles are truly good. If it weren’t for their intervention mankind would have been doomed a long time ago.”
Fatima listened quietly, feeling as if she needed to hear what the young elfin woman had to say.
“Don’t assume they are infallible. No one is. They have made grievous errors where the Fledglings are concerned but I believe they have truly learned from their mistakes. Besides, Lorn was just a young man when this all happened. You cannot shoulder him with this burden.”
She understood the truth in the woman’s words, silently digesting them.
***
She was aware the moment Lorn returned home, could feel the electric buzz radiate throughout the castle. It was an unusually balmy fall night and she’d changed into shorts and T-shirt to enjoy the cool air flowing through the air-conditioned castle.
He is here, Sara relayed to her telepathically. Fatima smiled at her friend’s excited communiqué.
Trying to appear reserved Fatima made her way down the stairs.
They’re in the library, the elf volunteered.
Fatima wondered about the ‘they’ as she entered the room. Lorn was the first one she noticed. His expression was serious. A man she didn’t recognize, his father and his brother Jean joined him. Each man bore the same look.
“Did something happen?” she asked, looking for some sort of clue on the men’s stoic visages.
Lorn spoke up first. “We were able to recover the journal.” Pausing, he followed up with, ‘Perhaps you should have a seat.”
“What?” she asked, padding over to him instead.
“Gordy is dead.”
“Gordy? But how?”
“I think it better if you don’t know the details, but from the sound of it, it was definitely the handiwork of the succubus.”
“Poor Gordy.” Grief flooded her. He hadn’t deserved to die. No matter his past annoyances he had only tried to help her.
“That’s not all,” Lorn continued. “The police are looking for you in connection with the murder.”
“Me, but why?”
“Apparently you were seen leaving the apartment just after his screams was heard.”
“Me?” She looked between all the men. “That’s impossible. I’ll just have to go back and clear my name.”
“You can’t. No one would ever believe you. The succubus no doubt took your form and didn’t make in qualms about shielding your identity. She wants you arrested.”
“But you could vouch for me.”
“I doubt if the word of your lover would carry much weight over those in the community who saw you fleeing the scene.”
“Oh, god.” She was a fugitive, and poor Gordy was dead. “There must be something I can do.”
“You will stay here where you belong,” Lorn ordered.
Was this ploy to gain her complacency? “What about the succubus? You can’t just let her get away with this?”
“Trust me. She will not elude us forever. When we do find her she will pay for all the wrongs she has committed,” Lorn promised.
Fatima regarded his stern face, knowing he meant every word. “I need some time to take this all in.”
“You will have the rest of our lives,” Lorn affirmed. “I think there is something you need to see.”
“What?” she wasn’t sure she could handle another surprise.
“The journal you read did
in fact belong to my mother, but it was only part of it. I have the other part in the labs, although it looks as if there are still sections missing, maybe lost over time, but more likely in the possession of the succubus.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The part of the journal I have tells the story from the time my parents first became mated. I think it would do more justice for you read it for yourself.”
***
Fatima closed the journal while swiping away stray tears. In all of her life she’d never read, heard about or witnessed such a declaration of devotion. Laurel and Krail De LaRue truly loved each other. Their story was one epics could be based on.
Fatima quietly entered the bedroom she shared with Lorn. He stood on the patio overlooking his vast property.
“Is the jury still out?” he asked with his back to her.
“No.”
“Do I want to know what the verdict is?”
“Why don’t you turn around and ask me?”
He complied, the look on his face turning to concern at her moist eyes. “Why are you crying, ma cherie?”
“It was beautiful. Your mother loved you all so much, especially your father.”
“I know. So I could never understand why she did what she did. Why any of them chose death.” There was so much pain in his voice.
“They felt helpless, like there was no other choice left to them.”
“How do you feel?”
“Confused, a little scared,” she admitted.
“I promise you I will do everything in my power to make this transition easy for you.”
“Thank you, but you know what I would like most of all?”
“Name it.” He looked into her amber eyes knowing he couldn’t deny her anything.
“To have you inside me. It’s been too long.”
“Your wish is my command,” he answered, scooping her up into his arms. “Does this mean you’re going to marry me?”
“Isn’t that what the whole mated thing is about?” she asked as he carried her into their bedroom.
“Yes, but call me a traditionalist,” he said, tossing her on the bed.
