by Vivi Anna
“It’s happening…between us,” he gritted out, nearly as overcome as she, so wild were the sensations rocketing through him. “Give yourself to me. Save me.”
“Save you?” she gasped as he stroked deeper, harder. “You’re raping me.”
Octavius forced himself to ease the ferocity of his strokes, knowing the herbs he’d consumed might still be ruling his body. “Am I raping you?” he said, between clenched teeth. “How did I awaken with my cock embedded deep inside you?”
Her lips trembled. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You were stone. I…”
He lifted a brow, mocking her. “You used me to gain your own pleasure without my consent. Is that not the definition of rape?” Still, he gentled his thrusts, screwing in slow circles, and rested his elbows beside her shoulders within his winged cocoon. “Although, personally, I don’t feel the least violated,” he said, letting his voice ease into a softer rumble.
Her forehead furrowed with a scowl. “You aren’t real…weren’t alive…it’s not the same at all.”
He wondered if she even realized that she’d tightened her legs around him to bring him deeper. “I’m aroused,” he replied. “Don’t you feel any responsibility for my condition?”
“I apologize, and you can’t know how sorry I am. It’s my fault that you’re ‘awake’ at all. But still…”
“Yes, it is your fault. So why shouldn’t I expect compensation for your use of my body?”
“Compensation?”
“Quid pro quo.”
“I said I’m sorry,” she said, a hint of stubbornness in the tilt of her chin.
Octavius bent and scooped at that chin with his lips, nipping it gently. “I don’t share your remorse. You freed me.”
The fair-haired woman beneath him wrinkled her nose. “If you feel gratitude, then how can you not release me?”
“I’m afraid to, love,” he said truthfully, letting her see a fraction of his desperation in his face. “I don’t know how this happened, but I suspect you’re the key. I don’t want to be returned to that state again.”
The fingers pinching his shoulders eased to cup them. She drew a deep breath. “So do you plan to stay inside me forever?” she said softer now, near whispering. “How awkward would that be?”
“Not forever,” he replied just as quietly, sensing her surrender. “Just please don’t ask me to withdraw. Not yet. The sensation is too incredible. You’re very warm, so wet.” Tentatively, he rocked his hips, driving his cock inward again, watching her expression for signs of alarm or revulsion. Didn’t a “gargoyle” hold her pinned to the ground?
Her mouth rounded and she gasped. Her eyelids fluttered then closed. “Do what you must.”
Octavius snorted. “What I must? Take my pleasure? Would you make me your rapist after all?”
Her eyes opened, tears welling again, and then she turned her head away. “I know better than anyone that you aren’t responsible. It’s my curse.”
“You believe you invite rape?”
“My touch makes a man forget himself.”
“You are lovely, but why would you think your allure is any more compelling than another woman’s?”
“You were stone. Now you’re living, breathing.”
“I lived and breathed before. Your touch released me from my prison.”
“Do you always awaken aroused?” she asked more harshly now, meeting his unflinching gaze.
“I’m male. But I understand what you ask. I was given an herb that muddled my head, fired my blood. My cock was constantly aroused throughout the battle I fought just before I was made into stone.”
“Then it’s not just because of me?”
He heard a hint of doubt in her voice and wondered about it. “I’m grateful to be breathing again. Pleased to be awakened like this. But I’m also afraid that I must finish this with you. You sought concourse with this body before to please yourself. Why not use me to appease your appetite again? Please us both.”
“I don’t know. This is different. Embarrassing.”
“Because I’m aware?”
She let out a short, strangled laugh. “That sounds so wrong.”
“Because it is. Make it right.”
Fleeting expressions flickered across her face. Her teeth worried her bottom lip while her gaze slid away again.
He slowed his thrusts again although the effort nearly killed him, offering her a moment to make a clear-headed choice.
Her chest rose, her tiny breasts poking at his chest, and then slowly her glance raked his shoulders, lifted and rested for a moment on his lips then hesitantly swept up to meet his gaze. “I’m not like this. Not…sexual.”
“You’re a woman, all parts lovely and welcoming to man.”
“You’re not human. Not a man.”
“I am male. Do the wings frighten you?”
“They’re soft. Tensile. I’m not frightened…exactly.”
“Shall I unwrap you?” His gaze dropped to her expressive mouth. Her lips were plump, almost pouting. She teased him now.
“The grass is wet,” she said, her tone slightly sullen.
“Would you prefer I keep you dry?” His lips curved. Her sex was very, very wet.
A swallow moved the smooth skin of her throat. “When we’re done, will you release me?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“This is a very strange conversation. And maybe I’m not frightened because I’m in shock.”
“Then let me give you something to be truly shocked about.”
Octavius came to his knees, which forced her to straddle his lap, and slowly unfolded his wings, unwrapping his lovely hostage like a present. Despite the silvery light shining above, her hair gleamed gold and was long and straight. The oval shape of her face served as the perfect canvas for her overlarge and pouting mouth.
A deep rumbling growl worked its way up from his diaphragm, but he ignored her widening gaze until light glinted on an oddly shaped blue iris.
He crooked his forefinger and lifted her chin.
Her eyelids drifted down, her lips trembled.
“Let me see.”
Her eyes opened slowly, her gaze rose hesitantly, and then locked with his as he stared at the disturbing shape. Elliptical, like a demon’s. The girl wasn’t full human.
“It explains a lot,” he said softly.
“Now will you let me go?” she asked through tightening lips.
“I’m not holding you. You sit astride my hips. You impaled yourself on me.”
Her hands flattened on his shoulders and her thighs tensed. But she didn’t rise as she’d intended. Instead, her gaze, still held steady by his own, filled again, this time overspilling. Tears tracked down her cheeks. “Does my touch not ignite your passion?”
“Your sex, gloving mine so wetly,” he gritted out, “feeds my hunger for you.”
“But my hands…they don’t feel different from other women’s hands?”
“They’re warm…” Gods, they were hot, her whole body was warm, moist… He shook his head; she’d asked the question like it should mean something.
She blinked away moisture. “Maybe because you aren’t human, you’re immune. Wouldn’t you know it would take another demon to be able to resist my curse?”
Octavius blew out a deep breath, trying to even them, trying to keep himself from plunging upward. “I’m no demon, but you speak of a curse…”
“My touch incites men into sexual frenzy, makes them lose their minds.”
Her shiver helped him concentrate. He canted his head, read the tension on her face, and he got a hint of the deep anguish inside her. “Has it forced you to keep away from men?”
She nodded quickly. “And I wear gloves. Just in case.”
He clasped her soft, warm hands inside his, and stroked his thumb across her palm.
She sighed.
At that moment, he knew she’d never known a man’s gentle caress. How intriguing. How perfect. If he could lure he
r lonely soul to him, he might stave off the spell that had rendered him stone. “You’ve never known a gentle lover?”
“No.”
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