by JF Holland
Making her way down the stairs, she held onto the ornate wooden balustrade. The movement of her arm brushing the material of the shirt close to her face, and as she turned, a scent hit her, Luc, this was Luc’s shirt. It smelt of him; warm, spicy with a hint of dark citrus and clean musk, just like the man himself. As she stepped off the bottom stair, she was hit with the absolute silence in the well-maintained house. It was as if there was not another living soul around. Confused, she called out, hoping to find out where she was, although if Luc was about he wasn’t about to answer her, the sun was still out.
Standing still, she listened, but was met with nothing but the echo of her own voice in the open lobby. At the end of the hallway off the lobby, she found one door that was slightly ajar. Hesitantly, she put her hand on the heavy wooden panelling, and slowly pushed it open. In the corner of the room lay some sort of bed, although it was not like any bed she’d seen before. It was low to the floor; like a futon, but the framework substantial. It looked as if it had been made from heavy duty iron work, built to take excessive weight or a great deal of action - and snorted at the thought of the second. As the sun moved - so that it no longer blinded her - she spotted a form lay on the extra thick mattress – Luc.
He lay curled on his side, wings tucked into his back; facing away from her. It was as if he lay frozen in his form, watching the sun move through the sky through his bedroom window. She moved from foot to foot, unsure how to proceed, fully aware that he would know she was there. Then a thought struck her, the one she’d had earlier about the bed being used for more than sleeping. Grinding her jaw at the possibility of Luc doing just that, and she scowled at the thought, not liking it one bit – well not if it wasn’t her anyway. She gasped, shocked at the errant thought. I mean, she had no right to have thoughts like that concerning her and Luc. I mean, for god sake, she looked old enough to be his mother and her shoulders dropped at the thought.
She thought of the kiss he’d given her and shivered in remembrance. Then giving herself a lecture over such thoughts, stepped further into the room. Stopping near the bed, she swayed slightly, blinking, trying to clear her vision as a wave of fatigue hit her.
“Luc,’ she whispered. “I know you can hear me.” She went silent, then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity because she knew he couldn’t answer. Looking down on him, she realised he had a sheet covering his lower half, stopping just below his waist, tucked beneath a wing. The stonework of his body showed off the musculature beneath, and biting her lip she edged a little closer.
“Is it okay if I sit here and wait for you?” She again rolled her eyes while silently berating herself for expecting him to answer. Shaking her head, she sat on the mattress at his back and leaned against the thick headboard, that seemed to have been made from old wooden sleepers, sanded smooth and varnished. Yawning, she again looked to the window, noticing how low the sun was now and confident that she would not have a long wait for him. Blinking rapidly, she again yawned, hand covering her mouth as she slid further down the bed. Her eyes slid shut and she tried to open them, but they were just so heavy and the bed was so comfortable. Moving closer to the reassuring figure beside her, she worried about him unfreezing and finding her here and his reaction. Then nothing, as sleep once again claimed her.
Luc had heard Sophia moving around upstairs and had cursed his inability to get up and go check on her. He’d lay there, frozen as he’d heard her shout, then swore in his head at himself for not leaving her a note to let her know where she was. He tracked her movements above as she moved then down the stairs before she padded down the hallway. Then she was there, at his door, and his stone heart pounding against his rib cage at her closeness - not that she’d hear it or be aware. He could just make out the light through the window, the only real thing he saw in this form, light and shadow. Her scent had gotten stronger the further she moved into his room, light, fresh lemon, intoxicating him. He knew the exact moment she saw him as her heartbeat picked up, and her scent had sharpened as her eyes had burnt into him. The scent seeming to show annoyance in its tangy spice, then it altered, and he groaned in his head as he caught the scent of her arousal. Again, he swore at his inability to move, then moaned as he felt her heat settle at his back, her warmth penetrating his hard shell. He heard her yawn, and then felt her relax and slip further down the bed, her breathing slowed as she once again fell to sleep.
After a few moments, she mumbled something in her sleep that he didn’t catch, then rolled over and leaned her cheek against the back of his wings with a sigh. He would have swallowed his tongue at the feel of her if he were able, because her arm had then snaked around his waist; under his wing. Again, he’d looked impatiently towards the light, and began counting down the time until he’d be able to move.
As he waited, he remembered the feel of her in his arms as he’d collected her from Balin’s home earlier. He’d had to fight against the need to place her in his own bed, but common sense had prevailed. He knew she would be confused enough waking in unfamiliar surroundings, she did not need to wake up with a grotesque statue in her bed also. His chest had rumbled as he’d laid her on the bed upstairs in the master suite. Carefully, he’d removed her boots, jeans and lightweight, long-sleeved top, leaving her in nothing but a pair of skimpy cream knickers and matching silky bra. The cups of her brazier had barely contained the bounty of her breasts. He’d been assailed with an overpowering need to mark her, which he didn’t understand. Quickly, he’d stripped off the shirt he had been wearing and had tucked her into it, fastened the buttons and rolling up the sleeves. Smiling with satisfaction at the thought of his scent being on her skin, a warning, and a promise. Once he’d assured himself she was settled and comfortable, he’d picked her black bag up and removed a white candle he’d found in there. He’d placed it on the small set of drawers, lit it and sprinkled a pinch of the herbs which she kept in a red velvet pouch over the flame. Douglas had assured him this would help aid her in recovering after her tasking healing session on the rogue… Davion. He must remember that the man had been a prisoner and forced to do the terrible things he’d done. Shaking his head in wonder that the thought of Sophia being a witch didn’t bother him, he’d then found her quartz crystal in a blue velvet pouch. He’d placed it on the window sill; to energise it with sunlight as he’d been informed, and had then left the room, leaving the door ajar. Afterwards he’d gone around the house double checking it was secured before undressing and taking a quick shower in his own room downstairs. He’d also left his own door ajar so he’d know when she awoke. Then, he’d settled in his own bed and lain there for hours visualizing all the things he’d been desperate to do to her as she’d lay nearly naked before him. Toned limbs relaxed, alabaster skin tempting him to touch and taste as he’d watched her chest rise and fall in her slumber. He’d felt like a pervert watching her so hungrily while she was unaware of his presence. The temptation of her creamy skin had called him though, and he’d leaned over and ran his knuckles lightly down her soft cheek. She’d sighed, head turning into the caress and he’d had to bite back a curse, retrieve his tingling hand. He’d quickly covered her and left the room, before he’d acted on his imagination.
Chapter Fourteen
S ophia moaned, legs twisting, restlessly as delicious heat invaded her body. Sighing, she moved closer to the source causing the sensation, like a moth to a flame. Her inquisitive hand moving over the solid warmth before her, fingers stroking over silky smooth dips and planes that rose and fell beneath her light exploration. A growl of pleasure broke through her dream, as her hand moved lower over the large object before her. She enjoyed the feel of the velvet softness beneath her questing hand.
“I do hope you know what you are playing with,” rasped a familiar, sensual voice.
Gasping, Sophia’s eyes snapped open, to find herself lay curled into Luc’s side. A now very human Luc. She had one of her legs thrown over his, and could feel the rough hairs of his thigh tickle the sensitive skin of her own. S
wallowing, she tipped her head back and found herself trapped in his slumberous, but hungry, moss green gaze as she lay with her head pillowed on his hard chest. His hand rested on her waist, the material of the shirt bunched up below her heaving breasts as he traced circles over her sensitized skin. Luc’s left wing was presently curled around her shoulder, cradling her tightly to him as her hand ran over his stomach. His very naked, very muscular stomach. She froze, horrified as she realised her hand had slipped beneath the sheet that had been covering him. Now it lay lower on his hips, exposing that part of him that seemed to be wide awake and extremely happy to see her. As she stared, it grew, tenting the sheet it got pushed lower, until barely covering him at all. Realising that she was staring, she averted her gaze, squeezing her eyes closed as she mumbled an apology. Her face beamed at finding herself groping him in her sleep. She went to snatch back her errant hand, but it was held in place - Luc quicker than her. Now, he held her hand prisoner against his rock-hard flesh, curling her fingers around it with his much larger hand.
“Sophia, Sophia, look at me.”
Her eyes once again opened and were drawn downwards. “Up here,” he rumbled with a chuckle. “I want your eyes on mine. I want you to see what you do to me,” Luc, huskily told her.
“I can’t believe I took advantage of you in my sleep. I’m old enough to know better. I mean, I’m old enough to be your god damn mother,” she grumbled, disgusted with herself.
Luc’s wing moved, the tip stroking below her chin, before lifting her head until she had no choice but to face him.
“Sophia, I doubt very much that you are old enough to be my mother.”
“I’m early nearly sixty-years old,” she scowled and he chuckled.
“That makes me a cradle… stealer?” he queried, unsure of the terminology, then shrugged. “It makes no difference. I am way older than you, more than cinq, erm, five-times your age,” he told her and her eyes opened wider. “Oui, see not older than I.”
“You may be older, but you certainly don’t look your age,” she sighed.
“Neither do you. You are a beautiful, vibrant woman” he murmured and she snorted.
“Baloney, I’m old and haggard.”
“No,” he growled, and her eyes showed their disbelief. “Does this feel like I see you as old and haggard,” he growled, using her hand to stroke up the length of his own hardened flesh, groaning at the sensation, she closed her eyes and swallowed, her jaw going rigid.
“Please, that’s just a normal chemical reaction. I’ve known men who can get hard just from a strong breeze.” She went for light and breezy, not wanting him to know how he affected her and he chuckled, then cleared his throat, sobering.
“I’ve not lain with a woman for over ten-years.”
“Well then, that explains it,” she nodded earnestly, as if she’d found the answer and he frowned. “I mean, a hole in the wall would probably look good to you about now.”
“Non, it’s you, it’s definitely all you,” he informed her. Grinning wickedly, he rolled her beneath him, muscular thighs settling between hers. Then leaning up on his elbows, he raised both hands, cradling her face between his roughened palms.
“I want you, but I will not force myself on you,” he told her, eyes roaming broodingly over her face before he lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a chance to pull away. A whisper soft caress of his lips on hers, a puff of breath causing them to tingle. Eyes locked with hers, he whispered. “I know you want me, I can smell your arousal,” and she gasped, as he once again kissed her, just a feather light brush, no more than a gossamer touch. Her taste swamped his senses. Needing more, he continued to cradle her face; gauging her reaction as he deepened the kiss. His mouth settling over hers firmly, taking her breath as his lips seduced hers before pulling back, nibbling and sucking on her bottom one then letting it slip from between his teeth.
Sophia blinked, an ‘O’, leaving her throat as Luc performed a twofold assault on her senses. Wings curled, cocooning them, caressing her sides and rib cage. Gentle, sweeping movements of the midnight-black veil as his mouth moved over her own. She felt dizzy, pleasure weakening her resolve as fears and doubts over her age floated away. His tongue slid across the seam of her lips and dipped into the interior, stroking along hers before twining and then retreating – playful movements inviting her to follow. The kiss deepened, his thumbs stroking beside her mouth as he massaged the back of her neck with his long sensual strokes of his fingers. She melted. Now nothing more than a mass of sensitized nerves and pleasure as her own hands ran along his sides. From there she trailed them up his back, and wrapped them over his shoulders below his wings, clinging, her nails digging into his flesh.
“Sophia, fils de salope,” Luc groaned as his teeth released her lip from his light bite. The sensation of her nails scraping over his skin making him buck against her, his length brushing over damp panties. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me now.” he murmured against her mouth, unable and unwilling to move from the softness of her lips, his words whispered against her skin. He needed to know that she was wanted this as much as he did, and prayed she did or if not he had the strength to walk away. Her answer was given as she lifted her head, sucking his bottom lip between her own and biting down gently, mirroring his previous action and making him hiss. She nibbled on the tingling skin, before running her tongue over the sting before taking his mouth fully with her own. He gave in, no longer worrying as he took over, devouring her, wanting to take over every sense she possessed until she could think of nothing but him and the pleasure he could give her.
Still leaning on his elbows, he fluttered his wings, settling them further up her body, stroking over her heaving chest, scraping the very tip of them over her distended nipples. They were beaded, so hard and long that they were visible against their confinement behind her bra and his shirt that she still wore. Her mouth left his and nibbled a path over his chin, biting before moving lower. She licked and sucked his throat, again making him groan. Desperate now, a hand joined his wings as he tried to get to her covered breasts.
“J’ai bsoin de toi nue,” he growled, tugging at the material of the shirt until the buttons popped and the shirt parted.
“Luc, I don’t understand you,” Sophia murmured against his throat.
“Vous m'avez attaché dans des nœuds. Je ne peux pas penser directement,” Luc rumbled, reaching beneath her back to unclasp her bra. He then tugged her arms out of both bra straps and shirt sleeves, pulling it from behind her, and threw both over his shoulder. He pushed back further back so he could see what he’d uncovered, grinning as she pouted when she could no longer reach him with her mouth. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to her sides, his eyes dipping before returning to her face. He swallowed as her glistening lips parted, and her eyes fixed on his taught abdomen as he sat back on his haunches observing her. His own eyes heating as they once again dropped, perusing her body as she was spread out before him like an offering. Her chest rose and fell with each inhalation, as she desperately tried to suck in a breath and think.
“Tu es si belle, je veux te dévorer,” Luc murmured, accent thickening as his hands lifted, reverently covering her full breasts.
Sophia’s eyes slid closed on a gasp as he kneaded and moulded her flesh. Shivering at his touch, tone and the blazing look in his.
“I don’t have a clue what you just said to me as I don’t speak French, but I love your accent.” Sophia murmured on a gasp as Luc leaned forward and took her right nipple into his mouth. With the edge of his teeth, he bit down on the turgid flesh then flicked it, before pulling it further into his mouth, suckling strongly, rolling it with his tongue. Releasing it with a pop, he blew on the wet, sensitive tip before changing sides. His hand now fondling and squeezing her right breast, tugging and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He took the left into his mouth, giving it the same treatment as he continued to torment its twin with his hand. Once he had her back bowing off the bed and
her fingers speared through his hair, cleaving him to her, he sat back, disentangling her grip.
“I said I want you naked. You are so beautiful you have me tied up in knots,” he told her huskily, hands now weighing her breasts before dropping down over her stomach. He dipped a finger into her navel before continuing down over her stomach slightly rounded stomach, stopping at the top of her panties. There, he traced the edge, running his finger back and forth before slipping beneath, searching out her secrets. Finding her warm and wet, he growled low in his throat, eyes holding hers once more as he brought his finger to his mouth, sucking on the glistening digit, purring at her taste.
Sophia, wasn’t sure how to react as he knelt between her thighs. Blinking, she blushed as she watched Luc lick the remnants of her arousal from his finger. His nostrils flared, and she was shocked to see the edge of a fang appear, just the tip peeking from below his upper lip. He edged backwards off the bed, and she went to close her legs as he dragged her knickers with him, dropping them onto the floor. Her hands dropped to cover her groin, but an ebony brow rose and he shook his head, pushing her legs apart again, a hand on inside of either thigh. Then watching her, he lowered himself down, his chest resting on the bed as he knelt on the floor. His big shoulders wedged between her thighs; keeping her open to his heated gaze as his wings arched over his back. They fluttered, a flash of obsidian, before settling either side of her thighs, pinning her beneath him.
