Tempting the Dryad

by Rebecca Rivard

  He gave her a last, hard kiss and then came to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tiago guided the kayak onto shore. They were a few miles upriver in a strip of woods on the opposite side of the river from Rock Run. Human territory, but five miles from the nearest town. Sure, they could’ve picnicked on Alesia’s island, but he’d wanted to take her someplace special.

  And even better, they’d be totally private, somewhere no one would think to look for them. Even Fausto couldn’t interrupt this time; it was too far away from his den.

  He stowed the kayak in the trees near the river, picked up the messenger bag and a plaid blanket and then took Alesia’s hand and led the way to a deer trail that wound its way through the strip of woods. The farmers who owned this land had left the trees as a natural barrier to suck up fertilizer run-off from their fields.

  They followed the trail until they came to a slender creek, then continued along the water another few hundred yards until they reached a small waterfall tumbling over large black boulders. The rain clouds had dissipated and the afternoon sun streamed through the trees, bathing everything in a golden haze.

  “It’s beautiful,” Alesia said, gazing around her.

  He smiled, pleased. “I thought you’d like it. You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

  “Really?” Her eyes crinkled.

  He nodded. This was his special place. Even Fausto had only been here a few times.

  He guided Alesia across the stream to a grassy hollow on the other side. She spread out the picnic blanket while he set out the food on a nearby rock: crusty peasant bread still warm from the oven, a wedge of sharp cheddar, olive tapenade, pickled vegetables, a couple of apples and a bottle of the clan’s own red. The box of candy went in the center along with the wine and two glasses.

  Alesia sat cross-legged on the blanket and poured the wine while he sliced the cheese and bread. He put it on a wooden plate along with a sampling of the other food, and then reclined on his elbow next to her, the plate between them.

  “Mm.” She handed him a glass of wine, her gaze on the sliced cheddar. For a dryad, cheese was like catnip—and Alesia especially loved sharp cheeses.

  He touched his glass to hers. “Saude.”

  “To your health,” she repeated and took a sip of her own wine. Her gaze flicked to the cheese again.

  He stifled a grin. “Go ahead. Have some.” He held a slice to her lips.

  She grinned back and took a healthy bite. Her eyes closed in pleasure. “It’s. So. Good,” she said a little thickly.

  He watched, enthralled, as she chewed slowly and reverently. Feeding Alesia was better than eating himself.

  She swallowed the last of the cheese and chased it with a sip of wine.

  He leaned in to run his tongue over the seam of her lips. She tasted good—sweet and a bit spicy from the wine.

  She dipped a finger into her wine and traced his lips. He touched his tongue to the fingertip and watched her eyes widen at the jolt that went through them both. He sucked the finger into his mouth, and she moaned, her fingers tightening around the wine glass.

  He set his own glass on the rock and kissed his way down the side of her neck. When he reached the soft skin above her collar bone, he nipped, sucking the skin between his teeth to give her a love-bite.

  She moaned and pulled him closer. “We can eat later.”

  “Or I can feed you.” He lifted his head and brought an apple slice to her wine-stained lips.

  She ate it slowly, her gaze on his. He could swear he tasted it along with her: the burst of tartness, the sweetness that followed. The different textures—crisp flesh and smooth peel. The scent of the apple mixed with her own summery green aroma.

  When she finished, she picked up another slice and held it to his mouth. “Now you.”

  They took turns feeding each other the apple and cheese, with occasional bites of olive bread and sips of the dry, fruity red. By the time they were both sated, they were lying on the blanket facing one another, and his cock was straining against his pants.

  Part of him wanted to finish this, to drag off Alesia’s jeans and take her. But another part was enjoying the slowness, the hot simmer in his belly.

  She lifted her head to down the last of her wine. “More?” he asked. When she said no, he set the glasses on the rock along with the plate.

  When he’d turned back, she was removing her sweater. Underneath she was wearing a hot pink tank that made her skin glow. But what made him swallow hard was the way the stretchy cotton clung to her breasts. They were exactly as he remembered: high and round and perfect.

  She saw him looking and misunderstood. “It was a gift from Dina. She says this color looks good on me.” Dina was her younger sister, the one who somehow managed to be a fashionista even while living in a tree on a secluded island.

  “Yeah?” He dragged off his T-shirt and propped himself on a forearm next to her so he could run his hand over the soft cotton. The tank had a self-bra that was basically just another thin layer of material. He could pinch her nipple through it, make it stand up. “Your sister is right. I like it.”

  “Really?” She plucked at the material and made a face. “It’s not too…pink?”

  “I like you in anything. But no, it’s not too pink—it’s pretty.”

  A corner of her mouth turned up. “Good answer.”

  He knew she was recalling that day they’d almost made love in her oak. He pinched her other nipple in retaliation. “I’m not just saying that just to get into your pants.”

  “No?” She slanted him a look up from under her lashes. “Why not?”

  He blinked, then grinned. “Okay. I am saying it to get into your—”

  She sat up, took the hem of the tank and dragged it over her head. He halted, the rest of the sentence caught in his throat. She came back down on the blanket and gave him a slow smile that would’ve done a siren proud.

  Somehow he got his thick tongue to form words. “Deus, Alesia”—he smoothed his palm over one dusky peach nipple—“you’re so damn beautiful.”

  “So are you.” Her hand came to his bare chest, found one of his nipples, played with it.

  “No. I—”

  She curled her fingers around his neck and stopped him with a kiss, her tongue seeking entrance. He opened his mouth and sucked her tongue, then he was on top of her, his fingers tangled in her hair, his body pressing hers into the blanket. The simmer in his belly boiled over, erupting through his veins like a fireball.

  Slow down, he told himself, but his hand was already cupping her ass and pulling her closer. He ground himself against her mound and she gripped his hips, egging him on, those high, round breasts crushed against his chest.

  With a groan, he dragged his mouth from hers and started moving down her body. However ready she seemed, he didn’t want to fall on her like an animal. He knew what the fae said about the fada. Besides, he wanted to enjoy her, starting with those soft peach nipples.

  But as he lowered his mouth to her breast, Alesia slid her hand between them and undid the button of his pants. He gave her nipple a hard suck and then came to his knees, straddling her. She reached for his zipper and eased it down over his erection. He was wearing cotton boxers beneath. She slipped a finger through the opening and caressed him.

  He hissed and her lips curved in a wicked smile. Her hand closed on him and she squeezed. He curved his body over hers, his hands on the blanket on either side of her ribs, and pushed into her soft, cool fingers. At the same time, he caught her other nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and then pulling strongly.

  Her grip on him tightened. Heat jolted through him. His balls clenched and he thrust into the welcoming circle of her fingers. They stayed like that for a minute, he licking and sucking her breasts, she working his cock.

  Then he lifted his head and took a deep inhale. “Too many clothes.”

  She gave one last squeez
e and then released him. They worked together, no fumbling despite their hurry. She undid her jeans and lifted her hips; he pulled them off.

  His hands went to her panties and then he halted, as he took in the fact that this time she was wearing panties. Plain white briefs that were about the most erotic thing he could imagine. They hugged her hips, the material sheer enough that he could make out shadowy curls and the outline of her plump lips.

  He framed her hips with his hands and pressed a kiss to her center, finding her sweet little button and blowing hotly on the fabric just above it so that it was her turn to hiss.

  She raised her hips and demanded breathily, “Do that again.”

  He inched the material down, exposing the top of her pubis. The curls were sable brown, darker than the honeyed brown on her head. He brushed his lips over the soft skin just above.

  Her stomach sucked in. She held herself still, not even breathing. He slipped his tongue deeper, beneath the panties, flicking her clit.

  Her breath rushed out.

  He smiled and moved lower, pursing his lips and again blowing hot air against her through the white briefs.

  She moaned. “Goddess, that feels good.”

  He lifted his head. “Let’s get these off.” He dragged off the briefs, then kicked off his own clothes before coming back on his knees between her bent legs. “There now.”

  She was slick and hot and beautiful. He smoothed his hands over her thighs, drinking her in with his eyes, inhaling her salty woman scent.

  She made a small, needy sound. “Tiago—”

  He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “What do you want, baby? This?” He dragged his tongue through her glistening folds.

  “It’s a start.”

  His brows shot up. He raised himself up enough to see her teasing smile.

  “Hm. Let’s see if I can do better.” He drew her clitoris into his mouth and suckled.

  Her hips lifted. “That’s pretty good,” she said in a strained voice.

  He spread her with his thumbs. “No more talking,” he growled, and then proceeded to lick and tease her until she was pleading with him to take her.

  “Not yet,” he said, and sliding a finger inside her, swirled his tongue around her plump little nubbin until her breath sobbed out. He slid a second finger inside her and she came in a series of small shocks, her inner muscles convulsing around his fingers. He continued stroking and lightly tonguing her until she went limp, then rose up to straddle her.

  Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her hair a tawny fan over the green-and-blue plaid.

  He brought his hands to her rib cage. She was narrow but strong, a woman who did the physical labor of caring for her trees and garden. Still, she’d be no match for a man like him—or like Benny. His stomach tightened as he realized that Jorge and Benny might very well have gone back to her island this week. Sure, the Rock Run sentries kept an eye on the dryads, but Jorge and Benny knew this area as well as any of the sentries—maybe better. And Benny had been so far gone into his animal that he’d have taken any woman he happened upon like a rutting beast…

  “Tiago?” Alesia had opened her eyes and was gazing up at him. “Is something wrong?”

  He smoothed his hands over the delicate curve of her torso. “I’m worried about you and your sisters alone on those islands. If Jorge and Benny had come up here first—”

  “They’d have to catch us first—and that’s not easy. Even Okeanos never got a hold of me, and believe me, he wanted to. Now come here. I’m cold.” She tugged on his shoulders.

  He lowered himself onto her, careful to keep some of his weight on his forearms. He was still uneasy, but right there and then he decided to stay with her until Jorge and the other two men had been captured. After all, he was on medical leave. He didn’t even have to train with the other warriors if he didn’t want to.

  And if he stayed, he could fuck Alesia any time he wanted to.

  He rubbed his body against hers. Her skin was chilled; he had to keep in mind that she didn’t have a water fada’s metabolism. He enfolded her in his arms, sharing his heat with her. “I could start a fire,” he said against her neck.

  “I don’t need a fire. You can keep me warm.” She undulated against him.

  “Mm.” He nudged her with his cock.

  She shifted so the tip slid inside her. He stilled, practically shaking with need. He didn’t want this to be hard and fast. He wanted to take care with her, show her how special she was.

  She hummed low in her throat and lifted her hips to take him deeper.

  He growled. His beast rose in him, dark and eager. He shoved it back down and started to move, slow, easy thrusts that took him just a few inches inside her, and then back out again. But she was so damn tight and hot. He tensed, afraid he might literally break if he didn’t maintain his control.

  And if he broke, the gods knew what he’d do to Alesia. He thought of the promise he’d made her and clenched his jaw.

  Her fingers dug into his buttocks. “Tiago—” she said in a strained voice—and then nipped his neck.

  He lifted his head. “What the hell was that for?”

  She gave him a fierce look that would’ve done a fada woman proud. “I want you—now. All of you.” She rocked her hips and he slid all the way in.

  Oh, yeah. She felt like home—the cradle between her thighs hot and wet and welcoming, somewhere he could sink into and stay for the next hundred years or so.

  Yes... The beast had risen again. For a moment, Tiago was worried, but unlike with Marjani, the beast wasn’t threatening. No, it was as absorbed as Tiago in the sensation of being inside Alesia.

  She inhaled sharply and wrapped her arms and legs around him. The fierce look changed to pure pleasure, her eyes half-closed, her teeth sunk into her lower lip.

  He thrust in again, both parts of him—man and beast—reveling in bringing that look to her face.

  Mine.

  He didn’t even bother to consider what that meant, just lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. “Talk to me, baby. Is this what you want?” He flexed his hips and thrust in again, a little harder, going deep inside her.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “That’s it.”

  She urged him into her, her fingers clenched on his ass, heels digging into his thighs. He gave a few slow, deep strokes. Then, spurred by her soft cries of encouragement, he increased the rhythm, moving harder, faster.

  She tightened her inner muscles around him. He changed the angle of his thrusts and circled his hips so that he was stimulating her clit. Her eyes widened, the pupils so dilated they appeared almost black, and then she threw her head back and clenched down on him—hard—her muscles opening and closing on him in rhythmic waves.

  Heat slammed up his spine. He thrust into her again and again, frenzied now, and then groaned and followed her over the edge.

  When he could think again, he was on his back, Alesia’s head on his shoulder. He played with her ear, fingering the sensitive point at the top. She moaned and his lips curved. Deus, he loved the sexy little noises she made.

  “That was—awesome.” She stroked a hand down his abdomen. “Why did we wait so long?”

  “Because I’m a frigging idiot.”

  She chuckled and rested her hand on his chest, her fingers spread over his heart, a warm, pleasing weight. “When you first started coming around, I thought all you wanted was a piece of you-know-what. Then when nothing happened—”

  “You were right.” He slapped one firm buttock. “I wanted this.”

  “Yeah?” Her tone was pleased.

  “Hell, yeah.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Why do you think I kept coming around? But then we became friends and—” He moved a shoulder.

  “I’m glad,” she said. “That we were friends first.”

  “Me too.”

  “But I wanted you too.”

  “I know.”

  She made an embarrassed sound and closed her eyes. “You smelled it on m
e, right?”

  “Yeah.” He nuzzled her ear, licking a slow circle around that cute little point. “But if it makes you feel any better, you smell very, very good. Green and a little spicy…like a vineyard in summer.”

  She gave a spurt of laughter. “If you say something about wanting to plow me, I’ll—”

  He rolled on top of her. “What?” He rubbed against her mound. “What will do you, woman?”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “This,” she said—and took him inside her again.

  * * *

  A long time later, Alesia opened her eyes. She was curled into Tiago, his arms around her. They must have dozed off, because it was almost dusk, the shadows slanting through the trees as the sun slid out of sight.

  She tangled her fingers in the hair on his chest and gave a contented sigh. Goddess, she felt good. A bit sore—it had been a while—but in that replete, I-saw-fireworks way.

  She lay there for a few minutes, listening to the rhythmic sough of Tiago’s breath before she reluctantly wriggled out of his arms.

  He opened an eye. “Alesia?”

  “Back in a minute.”

  She grabbed her clothes and headed into the trees to pee, then crouched in the creek to clean herself. The water was barely a few degrees above freezing. She hissed as she lowered herself into it. You’d think she’d be used to it, living as she did in the forest, but she liked her baths hot, thank you very much. At home she’d rigged up a tub in the hollow of a large rock which she filled with buckets of steaming water so she could bathe in comfort.

  Oh, well. She gritted her teeth and splashed the icy fluid over her face and chest.

  Something made her turn her head. Tiago had rolled on his side to watch her.

  She arched a brow. “Like what you see?”

  His mouth quirked. He circled an index finger in his direction. “Turn a little more this way.”

  She shook her head at him but she was grinning as she continued washing. As her hand went between her thighs, he spoke again, his tone a caress in the deepening shadows.

  “You don’t have to do that for me. I like how you smell—my scent and yours, together.”