SNAKE

by Leal, Samantha

  “Don’t lie to me, child,” Geron said, his voice heavy with malice. “I know you know. And you’re going to help us, whether you like it or not.”

  Estelle cried out as a sharp pain jolted through her body, and she collapsed to the ground as the world around her grew dark.

  15.

  “I can’t believe you did it,” Jack said, slapping Blaine on the back.

  But Blaine couldn’t even manage a smile. He knew he should be happy. He had put his mind to figuring out exactly where the source of the gold had been, and had followed the location of gold mines and quartz deposits to locate the sacred portal. And yet, he just wasn’t happy. Something was wrong.

  As if to emphasize the fact, the sky above the shifters gathered around the mine leading to the portal was growing dark, and the wind, warm and cheery just a few moments before, had grown cold and biting. And to make matters worse, Estelle was nowhere to be seen. She wouldn’t just abandon him there. Not when he was going to reveal the fruits of all his labor to the crew; to everyone at BBT. Sure, the humans wouldn’t have to know anything about the portal, but they did at the very least, deserve to see the site of the biggest source of gold located on the mountain.

  “Blaine…”

  The word was faint; far away and weak. Nobody else seemed to hear it, but when he glanced at Jack, there was worry in his eyes, as if he sensed that something was off. Blaine was old enough by now to know better than to ignore his intuition.

  Before he could stop himself, Blaine was shifting into his bear form and running full speed toward the sound of Estelle’s voice. She was afraid, and she needed him.

  But as soon as he reached her scent, he looked around wildly, confused and angry at himself. It was obviously a trap. He had allowed himself to succumb to one of the oldest tricks in the book, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for that.

  It was too late to go back now, though, and Geron appeared suddenly, his reptilian eyes growing wide and ferocious as he shifted into his dragon form. The man was huge, but in his fury, Blaine knew that nothing would ever match his drive to protect Estelle.

  A cold rain began to fall from the sky, and Blaine squinted his eyes as he was pelted by the icy water. But he knew that Geron was mostly smoke and mirrors. He might be able to manipulate the world around them, but the reality that Blaine mastered could easily be his downfall. All he had to do was find an opening. Dragons were big and powerful, but they were also victims of their own mentalities. Blaine had known that since he was a child, and h was prepared to take Geron down, no matter what the cost. His people would have the portal, even if he failed. He would risk it all to save the woman he loved. What other choice did he have?

  And so, with a ferocious growl, Blaine charged forward, willing himself to see through the magic exuding from Geron. Without Geron’s mind, the rain pelting his body wouldn’t exist. That meant, it wasn’t really there. All he had to do was focus on what was really there. A dragon shifter. Another man far back, guarding a human. A weak, scared human. His Estelle.

  The awareness of her presence sent a new surge of fury through Blaine, and he sliced his paw at Geron, who was using all his mental energy to keep up the illusion of the rainfall. The blow shocked Geron enough that the rain paused for a moment and Geron turned to face Blaine. He could feel his limbs growing cold, but it was clear that the dragon was trying to divide too much of his focus and spreading himself too thin.

  Blaine took advantage of that and charged. He had been taught the weakness of a dragon shifter long ago, and made a mad dash behind the beast, toward the middle of Geron’s wings, where the scales were notoriously weaker. He climbed with all his might and Geron howled in rage as his claws sank into his flesh. A bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and Estelle let out a shriek. It made him lose his concentration just long enough that he, too, was electrocuted briefly, but he forced himself to keep his goal in mind, and sank his teeth into the weak spot in the dragon’s back.

  Soon, his mouth as filled with blood and Geron let out a tremendous howl of pain. Blaine dropped to the ground and raced toward Estelle, who was cowering on the ground. He glared at the man guarding him, and he turned on his heel and ran away as Geron did his best to fly off the mountain, leaving a huge trail of blood behind him.

  “Estelle,” Blaine whispered, shifting back into his human form and running toward her. she was shivering on the ground, unable to catch her breath after the mental hell that Geron had unleashed upon her. “Come on, kid. You’re all right. Let’s get you out of here.”

  ***

  It took a few hours of being comfortable in front of the fire in Blaine’s cabin before Estelle ventured to speak, and when she did, Blaine moved toward her, unable to deny his love for her any longer. They had been through so much together at that point, it was futile to hide it.

  “They wanted the portal,” she whispered. “They didn’t think you’d have the papers…”

  “Well I do,” Blaine said softly, grinning at her. “They came through last night. That’s why I wanted everyone to meet me at the top of the mountain. I wanted to reveal the gold deposit and the deed at the same time. I guess that was kind of stupid of me, huh?”

  Estelle smiled and shook her head.

  “It would have been great, but they had to go and ruin it…”

  “Hey,” Blaine said, sitting down beside her on the couch. “They didn’t ruin anything. The only way they could have is if they hurt you.”

  Estelle looked down at the flannel blanket wrapped around her body, her cheeks almost as red as the flannel she was snuggled up in.

  “You’ve saved my life,” Estelle said with a quiet laugh. “So many times, now. Aren’t you sick of having to protect me?”

  Blaine turned her toward him, looking seriously into her eyes.

  “The only thing I’m sick of is people out there wanting to hurt you. I’d protect you for all the rest of my days if you’d let me.”

  Estelle was silent, studying him as if for the first time. “You really mean that, don’t you? I can feel it somehow…”

  Blaine smiled, relieved that he wouldn’t have to justify himself to her. there were so many things the girl just seemed to understand. And now that they were together, there was nothing more stopping them. Nothing except themselves.

  Blaine took Estelle’s hands in his, kissing the palms of her hands lightly. She shivered and smiled at him shyly, and he embraced her tightly, grateful more than anything he had ever felt that she was still alive.

  “I’ve wanted you so much, for so long,” Estelle whispered into his ear. “You’re all I ever seem to be able to think about.”

  A hot rush of desire overpowered Blaine, and he studied Estelle intently, the bear inside of him urging him to make his final claim; telling him to make sure that he was claiming her to last. It was something the bear had never done with his first wife; only with Estelle. And this time, he was going to let nothing stand in his way.

  Estelle gasped softly when his hands found the softness of her flesh beneath the blanket, and his lips tugged against hers with a deep and tender passion. They kissed languidly as the bear took charge, finally able to assert itself and make its claim official.

  Estelle seemed eager to take on the role of his mate, and held him close as he climbed on top of her, his body engulfed in the tingling flames of desire. She closed her eyes as her senses were assaulted by his caresses, and soon she gasped as the urgency of his longing became clear; pressed firmly against her middle; half an invitation, and half a question.

  Blaine ran his hand along her thigh, pressing her legs apart and allowing his fingers and groin to explore the heat between her thighs. She was ready for him; just as eager as he was, and the bear inside him let out a deep growl of gratification.

  Suddenly, the blanket was on the floor and their clothes were flying to the ground along with it, and Estelle was arching her back on the couch, her perfect breasts thrusting into the air. His mouth caught one of
them and she shuddered as he tasted the sweetness of her nipple. There was nothing about her body that he didn’t love; every curve and slope was something new to love, something special to explore.

  Before long, he couldn’t hide his need any longer, and he stroked the length of his shaft gently against the most sensitive area of her body. Estelle moaned softly, invitingly, and bucked her hips against him. That was all the invite that he needed, and he plunged suddenly inside of her, filling them both with the abrupt explosion of ecstasy that engulfed them as their bodies joined once again, after far too long.

  Estelle cried out, the sound muffled by the couch cushion she buried her head into, but Blaine took her chin so that she looked at him.

  “Don’t hide anything you feel,” he told her. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling good.”

  Estelle’s full, sensual lips parted and he took them into his mouth, nibbling them gently as he gave his hips another powerful thrust. She cried out into his mouth and he grinned, overwhelmed by the sheer ecstasy of sharing his body with her and holding her once again after far too long.

  He let his hands grope around the fullness of her hips; the sensual curves of her ass and belly. She was the perfect amount of woman for him, no more and no less, and he was certain in that moment that he had met his match.

  They fell into a steady rhythm, giving and taking their share of pleasure, until they were see-sawing on the brink of what would surely promise to be the most explosive climax of their lives. Estelle’s beautiful eyes stared into his, rapture and sheer love radiating from her perfect features. She was everything he had ever wanted, and now that he had her, he was going to claim her and never, ever let her go again.

  As if her body could sense his silent vow, it contracted sensually around his member as he was enveloped sweetly inside of her. he knew immediately that this was the first sign of orgasm, and he exploded with activity. Estelle cried out in ecstasy, her body shocked again and again by the tendrils of pleasure snaking along every nerve impulse in her body, and Blaine was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own pleasure any longer.

  Finally, another delicious contraction tugged at his body, the friction of which tipped him over the edge. Estelle dug her fingers into Blaine’s back, crying out in sheer rapture as the force of his orgasm erupted inside of her, and he continued to thrust his hot, swollen member until every last drop of his pleasure was emptied inside.

  He held his lover close to his broad chest, their bodies closer than they had ever been before as he showered kisses onto all her face’s unique and beautiful features.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m going to take care of you for the rest of our lives.”

  “What about the portal?” Estelle asked with a deep yawn.

  “We don’t even know how to use it,” Blaine admitted with a laugh. “But we’ll figure it out. And when we do, you and I are going to have some stories to tell.”

  Estelle laughed quietly and their lips met once again.

  “I love you,” she said. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  Blaine grinned and held Estelle close to his body, grateful that, above all else, he was going to share his life with the perfect woman for him, no matter what life threw at them. They would take it on together, convention be damned. And that’s all there was to it.

  The End

  If you enjoyed this tale, please check out the next Oak Mountain Shifters Story on Amazon!

  Time Travel Romance

  Into The Duke’s Arms

  Katie Maddox

  Copyright ©2016 by Katie Maddox. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter One

  Florida, 2016

  “If I see one more piece of friggin’ lace, I am simply going to hurl. And hurl good.”

  Standing at the center of a lavish Victorian style sitting room, Jasmin Lawrence did have to take a moment and admire her surroundings; her bespectacled gaze perusing the room’s shining wallpaper of scarlet brocade, plush ivory carpeting, and central tables doused in reams of pure white lace and topped by a lavish setting of floral print china. Overseen by the glow of brass chandeliers and the spectacle of a hand painted mural that depicted angels in flight across a gem blue sky, the room did boast a lovely, resplendent décor was meant to promote a certain air of serenity and grace.

  At this moment, however, Jasmin felt about as graceful and serene as….

  Well, something that’s not very graceful or serene at all, she mused in silence with a sigh, rolling her eyes heavenward. I am in no mood to be witty or clever. I just want to clear out of here and grab a Big Mac.

  At this point, however, the only edibles in her future took the form of those Victorian era delicacies that she would not be eating herself, but instead, would be serving to patrons at Chez Victoria, the elegant Florida area tea room where she had sought gainful employment for the past year.

  Each day, she pushed a silver cast food cart that came complete with piping hot scones topped by clotted cream and jam, finger sandwiches, decorative iced fancy cakes, and, of course, tea.

  Lots and lots of tea.

  Didn’t those pesky Victorians ever drink anything else? she queried silently, continuing her tortured but nonetheless cathartic internal monologue before adding, as she winced in acute discomfort, And didn’t they ever lower themselves to the wearing of clothes that were remotely—I don’t know—wearable? Or at least comfortable?

  Again, she did have to admit that her work uniform—a true to life, cream colored reproduction of a classic Victorian gown—absolutely stunned with its fitted, lace-bordered floral print bodice with a matching flowing skirt and puffed, lace-lined sleeves. The soft cotton gown served to flatter and accentuate her rubenesque curves. And when she adorned her long mane of lustrous dark hair with a smooth floral print ribbon, she did indeed feel every inch a prim and proper Victorian lady.

  Cha! Got them fooled! She smirked now, rolling her eyes heavenward. I full well realize that this gown is infinitely preferable to my last work uniform, worn during my college days while toiling away as a head bun dresser at Cal’s Coney Heaven. Sorry, but it seems rather odd to wear a polyester Coney dog costume while one actually serves Coney dogs to perplexed looking customers. It seems almost fatalistic, to a point.

  Yet, no more fatalistic, she presumed, than the everyday wearing of hoop skirts, pantaloons, not to mention those ancient mummification devices known as corsets.

  Sheesh, no wonder those ladies were always ‘swooning,’ she reasoned as she felt her rib cage protract. Again. Who can breathe and function worth a darn while wearing a blasted corset?

  As she continued to use her tortured inner thoughts as a surefire distraction from the painful—or, at the very least, irritable—truth of her everyday life, Jasmin struggled to remember the time when she loved and lost herself in Victorian lore; those blissful teen-aged years when she lost herself in the novels of Jane Austen, also in the numerous filmed adaptations of her timeless books.

  I was bound and determined to marry Mr. Darcy, totally ignoring the three major obstacles standing in our way, she recalled now. Number one: Mr. Darcy is a total and complete fictional character, no joke. Number two: If he was not indeed a total and complete fictional character, he would be long dead by now. Number three: Mr. Darcy is already married. And Elizabeth Bennet is just tough enough to kick my heiny—though, I am certain that, with her velvet tongue, she would come up with a far more proper term for my defeated posterior than ‘heiny’.

  It was, in fact, her great love for Victorian literature that had inspired her to pursue a degree in English literature at Clearview State University, the premiere—okay, so the only—collegiate institution located in her Florida hometown.

  After working her way
through school via a food service job, she graduated cum laude and immediately, scored a job—in food service.

  So now I know the true and full meaning of the term ‘literary irony’, she mused, heaving a deep sigh as she wheeled her cart, with sluggish slippered steps, between endless rows of lace afflicted tables. Now instead of asking, ‘Would you like fries with that?’ I ask customers, ‘Would you like clotted cream and chutney with that?’

  Her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sudden entrance of her supervisor; a tall, slender woman with distinguished silver hair and a flowing day dress of pure blue satin, adorned with lace and sleek ruffles.

  Although Jessymyn O’Reilly generally had the tendency to float into a room, she, on this day, seemed to trudge a bit as she dragged a large and rather unwieldy portrait into the main dining room of Chez Victoria.

  “Can I help you with that, Jessymyn?” Jasmin queried, rushing forward to grab up the right edge of the brass bordered frame that enclosed the mysterious portrait; righting the painting as she did to take a closer look at its surface.

  She froze then, and gaped outright, as she beheld the image of the most beautiful man she ever had seen.

  His tall muscular frame was dressed resplendent, in a long jacket of azure jacquard, a white satin shirt with a stately high collar, and tight fitting taupe pantaloons adorned with brass buttons. The subject of this portrait boasted a chiseled face featuring carved cheekbones, a cleft chin, and eyes that shone as bright and azure as the image of the bluest sky.

  This face came framed with a shoulder length mane of thick ebony hair that fell free across muscled shoulders, and came adorned with a soft, subtle upturn of his full moist lips.

  “Who’s the beb?” she asked Jessymyn, all the while never tearing her gaze from the captivating man captured in the frames of the ebullient oil painting.