Tales of the Golden Judge: 3-Book Bundle - Books 7-9

by Hart, Melissa F.

  There was much to adore about her sweet face and her lovely form, but he had a job to do. He stepped out of the cave, and he immediately tensed. There was another presence nearby, and he could already tell that it was not one of the otters that had summoned him to Colossal City

  He gritted his teeth, and spread his fingers wide, calling up the winds that danced at his command. They swirled around him picking up the dead autumn leaves, and he scanned the area, looking for friend or foe.

  “Hey, I come in peace!”

  The voice came from above him, and when Benedict looked up and up, he could see a muscular man crouched in the tall branches of the fir tree next to him. There was an easy going smile on the man's face, and Benedict could make out the bow that he carried, made out of some silvery material that glowed faintly in the morning air, and the man's wedding ring.

  “Prove it,” Benedict said, not dropping his guard. This man, whatever he was, wasn't a shapechanger, and Benedict was not a man who trusted very easily.

  With nothing more than a slight shrug, the man stepped off of the tree into thin air, and Benedict's eyes widened as the man landed as lightly as a cat in front of him.

  “You're not of my kind,” he said dubiously, and the man shook his head.

  “Nah, but I'm not from around here either. I'm Archer Speedlight.”

  Benedict tilted his head. “Is that meant to mean something to me?”

  Archer laughed ruefully. “Man, just when you think that everyone's seen your face on the television, I guess! I'm a Colossal City superhero. I work with Lynxar, Bellaron, and Bryan Hillman to make sure that, you know, aliens and other bad guys don't take down the city.”

  “Oh, like the comic books,” Benedict said vaguely.

  “Yeah, just like the comic books,” Archer said with a sigh. “Seriously, you've never heard of me?”

  Benedict smiled a little, tilting his head to one side. He found himself enjoying this talkative man's company, and he shook his head.

  “Well, that's pretty unfair because I know you,” Archer retorted, and at that Benedict scowled, dropping back into a ready stance. The winds, which had quieted, whipped again, screeching through the clearing in front of the cave.

  Archer held up his hands in surrender. “No, no, look, it's nothing bad! Marisol told us you were coming.”

  “The otter girl?”

  “One and the same. She's a friend, and when she knew that you were coming, she thought that it would be a good idea to tell us. You know, in case there's a big fight or something, we want to make sure that we don't smack a good guy.”

  “You should try it,” Benedict snorted, letting the winds die down again. “I don't know who you've dealt with before, but I am not them.”

  Archer laughed ruefully. “Yup, can't wait to see how well you fit in with everyone else. Maybe once you do, you can put in a good word with your people and let them know we're on your side as well.”

  “You sound irritated,” Benedict observed.

  Archer smiled, showing very fine sharp teeth. “Well, let's just say that when people in my town, even the ones who live in the woods, think that they can't come to us over a possible murder, it just makes me a little nervous.”

  “They're not your people,” Benedict said, a bit of frost in his voice. “Our kind have very little to do with each other.”

  Archer's grin got a little narrow and a little mean, and he nodded toward the cave. “Oh, I think maybe you might have more to do with us than you think.”

  Benedict tensed, and something in his face made Archer lift his bow just a little defensively.

  “Just pointing out,” the archer said peacefully. “And now that I've made my point, I'll get out of your way. If you ever feel like being more sociable, Bryan's mansion is the big red brick monstrosity on top of the highest hill. Can't miss it. Come meet us. Bring your girl.”

  “She's not my...” Benedict started to say, but then Archer was leaping up into the leaves and was gone.

  Benedict glared after him, eyes dark and troubled, but then he could sense Marcie waking up in the cave behind him.

  He realized that his body still craved hers, and that after the night that they had spent together, he needed her more than he had. He knew in his bones that there was something stronger than lust that bound them together, and at the end of the day, it could not be ignored.

  He walked back into the cave, knowing that with every step he took, he was approaching his own destiny, his own heart and desire.

  ***

  In the murky waters of the lake, something closed its eyes. These eyes were primitive and terrible, and they were as large as saucers. It had been denied its food that night, but that wouldn't last forever.

  Soon, it would hunt again.

  Soon, it would eat.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK EIGHT: Deep Waters – Volume 8

  ***

  Deep Waters

  ***

  Synopsis

  After a night spent fighting for their lives, dawn finds were-golden eagle Benedict Halfdansson and biologist Marcie Beauchamp growing closer than ever. They are deeply linked by their adventures together, but a sudden danger threatens both of their lives. The monster that lives in the lakes of Colossal City emerges, showing a terrible strength and a terrible ability to destroy. Can the two new lovers escape to safety, and will they find the refuge that they need with Colossal City's superheros?

  ***

  When Marcie awoke, she knew she wasn't in her bed in her apartment, and neither was she in the familiar tent that she kept packed for when she had to venture into the wilderness overnight. Instead she was lying inside a sleeping bag on a cot set up in a deep cave, and when she turned her head slightly, she could see sunlight streaming into the cave mouth, bright and gold.

  The fall air outside the sleeping bag was cool enough to raise bumps on her flesh, and she cuddled down further inside it as she thought about what had happened.

  She had been tracking the mysterious water animal that lived in the lake deep in the forest when she had encountered a mysterious black-eyed man who called himself Benedict. When he saw something threatening her in the water, he had lunged for her, wearing the shape of a golden eagle and using his mastery over the wind to bring her to safety. In the struggle, however, she had fallen into the water, and she could have died from exposure if he had not brought her quickly to the emergency supplies hidden in the cave.

  A small smile played across her full lips as she thought about what they had done while she was getting warmed up. It had gotten her very warm indeed, and now, dry and safe underneath the covers, she was warming up again.

  He was nowhere to be seen, and so she rolled over onto her back. Her hands stroked along the paths on her body that he had taken the night before, from throat to breast to hips to thighs to that tender secret place between her legs. She remembered the rough touch of his hands, and now her own hands reawakened that memory in her skin.

  She spread her legs, feeling the gentle soreness in her hips that told her she had been exquisitely well-used the night before. She was already slightly damp, and when she slid her fingers along the furrow there, her flesh parted easily.

  Marcie licked her lips and twisted lightly on the cot, her eyes half shut with pleasure. Yes, now she could remember the way he had touched her, the way that he had deliberately aroused her until she practically begged for her release.

  Her free hand slid up her side and landed on her breast, squeezing the round, soft sphere gently. Her dark nipples were already erect, and when she pulled first one and then the other, it sent shocks of pleasure through her body.

  Benedict, his name was Benedict, and her mind conjured up a vision of him as he had been the night before, dark and lean and lying so close to her that she could feel his heart beat in his chest. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and her fingers below sunk inside her. It was sweet, such a sweet and clear pleasure, one that made her feel as if her entire body was blooming and open.r />
  Marcie wasn't sure what made her open her eyes, but when she did, she found Benedict standing just a few feet away. Despite the intimate night that they had spent together, she still might have found herself stuttering with embarrassment and pulling her hand away, but then she saw the naked desire in his eyes.

  “Benedict?”

  “Good morning,” he said huskily. “Please, don't let me interrupt.”

  “I wish you would,” she replied, pulling aside the sleeping bag cover so that he could see what she was doing. She was entirely bare, a beautiful woman with curves that went on forever. She could feel his eyes on her fair skin, on the dark nipples that capped her breasts, on the slight curve of her belly and the dark tangle of hair between her legs.

  It was like she could feel as well as see the fact that his gaze heated up. He wanted her, and when she turned her head slightly, she could see the erection tenting his pants.

  “Hey, if I'm giving you a show, you should give me one as well,” Marcy murmured.

  For a moment, it looked as if Benedict would refuse, or perhaps shrug or ignore her. Instead he took a deep breath, and, without taking his eyes from her face, he fumbled for his fly and drew out his cock. Something about the way his breath hitched when he handled himself made her heart beat faster, and it made her want him so badly.

  “Kneel on the floor,” she said, her voice rough with desire. She could already tell that he was a proud man, and though a part of her worried about the idea of simply ordering him to his knees, another part of her desired him just like that.

  Benedict wavered, and then with a grace that was as elegant as a golden eagle's soaring flight, he dropped down to his knees on the dusty cave floor. He looked up at her with those amazingly dark and liquid eyes, and in that moment, she would have done anything for him. It was on the tip of her tongue to say so, but she shook that off. She had known him for less than twenty-four hours after all, and surely the crush could wait?

  Instead, she sat up, swinging her leg over his head so that her legs were spread out wide and he rested between them. His eyes were nearly black with desire, and though she could see the way his body yearned for hers, she only sat and watched him for a long moment.

  Thoughtfully, Marcie carded her fingers through his hair, and when she did it again, she gave it a quick tug.

  That wrung a soft, guttural moan out of him, and he swallowed hard. There was something gorgeously vulnerable and wanting about him, and his mastery of her body the night before only made it seem more right and wonderful that he was now so open to her control.

  “So gorgeous,” she murmured, “and so perfect. All for me, aren't you?”

  He tried to nod, but her grip on his hair wouldn't allow him to move. Instead, he looked up at her, and it was as if she could see straight into his soul.

  With her free hand, she reached down to trace his lips with her fingers. They were thin, making him appear stern, but when she touched the center of his lower lip, his mouth opened easily for her. With wide eyes, she slid two fingers into his mouth, and he closed over them with an incredible sensual tenderness.

  In a heartbeat, she was thrusting her fingers in and out of his mouth, and his eyes had drifted closed with the sheer sensation of it. When she drew her fingers away, he looked longingly at them, but then his eyes widened again when she drifted those fingers between her legs.

  “Good, that feels good,” she murmured, sweeping the damp fingertips up and down her slit. She spread her legs a little wider, and she could feel herself part willingly. Now they could both smell the musky scent of her arousal, and Benedict made a begging sound deep in his throat.

  “What do you want?” she asked, her voice soft and demanding.

  “You.”

  Marcie tugged his hair, making him moan. “No, tell me specifically. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

  Benedict licked his lips, and the hunger in them was so hot that she wondered if she could feel the air between them sizzle. “I... I want to lick you. I want run my tongue up and down your pussy and open you up. I want to find out what you taste like, and I want to make sure that you climax so hard you see stars...”

  “Beg me.”

  “What?”

  “If you want to do all of that so much, beg me.”

  Benedict didn't hesitate for a single moment. “Please,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Please, please let me lick you, let me suck on your clit, let me open you up and feel how sopping wet you are, please, please, Marcie, please...”

  With a stifled groan at the way he sounded, Marcie pressed his head between her legs, and when he laved his hot velvet tongue over her heated sex, she nearly came off the cot. Instead, she lay back down, pushing her hips up toward his face. Her hands never left his hair, and she lost herself to the motions of his clever, skilled tongue.

  He made little darting licks at her slit, holding her open with his fingers while he traveled up and down. With each pass, he circled her clit delicately with the tip of her tongue until she was moaning every time.

  Finally, Marcie had had enough, and with a muffled growl, she grasped his hair and pushed his face deeper between her legs. His hands landed on her thighs in surprise, but there was nothing in his frame that told her he was reluctant or upset. Instead, the pressure of his tongue and the increased speed with which he lapped at her most tender flesh sent spirals of hot pleasure blazing through her body, and somewhere distant, she could hear her own voice spiraling higher and higher.

  The waves of pleasure crashed over her body until she could barely stand it. She knew that she should stop, let him take her, give him something, but instead, her body insisted on having its way. Instead of letting go and allowing him some pleasure, she clung to his head and thrust her hips up against him harder and harder.

  “I... I can't...” she whispered brokenly, and then she flew straight over the top, her orgasm exploding low in her body and traveling out until she shook with it.

  She still didn't want to let him go. She clung to him, riding out the shudders of pleasure until they faded to mere ghosts. Marcie only released his hair when she was coming down. Her hand fell limply to her side, and she stared blankly at the cave ceiling.

  Marcie was faintly aware of her body being arranged so she lay correctly on their bed again, and she felt the cot sag under his weight. When he took her into his arms, she whimpered and clung to him.

  Finally, after what felt like a long, long moment, she looked up into eyes that were dark, amused and still very hot.

  “You... your lips are so red,” she whispered, her voice gone rough and quiet, and he ran his pink tongue over them. His crafty smile told her that he liked what he tasted there, and he shrugged.

  “You're beyond gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. Now she could taste herself as well, and she watched him watching her lick her lips.

  “You haven't yet...”

  “Do you want me to?'

  “Yes.” The answer was incisive and sharp, and if he had been worried, those worries would have been obliterated by the strength of her answer.

  “Yes, yes I want you to come,” Marcie insisted. “I want you so much.”

  Benedict laughed at her enthusiasm, and he nuzzled her ear. The prickles of sensation that she felt when he did that awakened that deep pleasure inside her again, and she would have protested with exhaustion if it didn't feel so damn good.

  “Can I have what I like?” he asked slyly. “I had a good time pleasing you, maybe you would have a good time pleasing me?”

  “Show me,” Marcie answered right away. “I'll say no if I don't like it.”

  With nothing more than that, Marcie found herself pinned to the bed, her wrists trapped in one of Benedict's large hands and held above her head. It left the rest of her naked body stretched underneath his and achingly vulnerable as he rose over her, urging her knees open with one leg. She could feel the heat of his iron-hard cock nuzzle against the delicate skin of her inner thigh.
>
  “I could spend hours getting you ready,” he murmured. His lips traced a tortuously hot path from her chin down her throat. “I could lick you and lick you and touch you and finger you until you were ready to cry from it. I will later. Right now, however, I can't do anything but lose myself in you. All I want to do is fuck you, to be completely inside you...”

  Marcie swallowed, licking her lips in nervousness. “Condom,” she whispered, and his smile never wavered.

  “As the lady pleases,” he said, and he let go long enough to slide one of the condoms from the rangers' supply kit over his cock. She watched him do it with wide eyes, and there was a deep and sinking hunger in her as she realized that he was going to enter her and make her his.

  He resumed his position over her, pinning her wrists over her head again, but this time, he didn't pause. He spread her legs wide, and with his free hand, he guided his cock straight into her deep warmth. Benedict didn't stop until he had sunk his full length into her body, and for a long moment, they rested against each other, eyes locked.

  Then Benedict started thrusting into her with enough force to shake the cot, and Marcie opened her mouth in a deep wail. It wasn't pain, it wasn't pain at all, but the sensations were entirely consuming. They took her body, they lit her up, and they were so intense that she could have cried.

  Instead of stopping or pausing, he only thrust into her harder, and now she could hear him whispering in her ear. They were crude words, filthy words, but there was a thread of love in them that she could scarcely believe. It was genuine, it was perfect, and all she wanted was more and more than that.

  When she felt the pleasure coil inside her again, she tried to fight it. It was too much, far too much. She couldn't take it, couldn't deal with it, it would destroy her. Then Benedict paused, and he pressed his mouth to hers in a deep wet kiss.