by JF Holland
Taking her hands from her groin, he threaded his fingers through hers holding them out of the way. He blew across her heated flesh, making her shiver and her eyes slid closed. Luc squeezed her hands until they popped open again, blinking.
“Non, je veux que vous me regardiez,” she frowned and he growled in frustration. “Watch,” he rumbled as his head once again lowered, holding her startled gaze as he nuzzled into her heat, running his nose over her, nostrils flaring. A rumbling sound left his throat as his tongue snaked through her wet folds, tasting and tormenting her, eyes still holding her gaze, heavy lidded and black as night. He took the bud at the top of her sex between the tip of his teeth, flicking lightly with his tongue, her hips rising, twisting under his ministrations. Luc held her down, their entwined hands now resting on her thighs as he tormented her with his mouth. Flattening his tongue, he licked from bottom to top, before sucking on that little bundle of nerves again. Sophia’s hips twisted as she gasped, her mouth opening on a moan.
“Viens pour moi, mon amour,” Luc growled as his tongue stabbed deep into her centre, before stroking and circling the nubbin again with his tongue. She shook, her thighs trembling, but she didn’t go over. “Come for me, my love,” he repeated in thick English, then turning his head to the side, his mouth latched onto her flesh - at the crease between groin and inner thigh. Sophia felt a biting sting before the slight pain gave way to pleasure, Luc groaning around the skin that he sucked on before releasing it with a last lick. Head turning, he nibbled along her folds, teasing and stroking before he once again reached her centre, circling before stabbing deep with his tongue. Sophia fell apart, shattering and calling out his name.
Luc felt as if his skin was about to split he was so hard. He could feel himself throbbing with tension, his control thin, about to snap at the taste of her on his tongue, filling his senses. The way she’d let go for him, the sound of his name being wrenched from her throat as she reached her ‘La petite mort,’ had nearly had him spilling. He’d not meant to bite her, but as his fangs had pierced her skin and he’d felt them imbedding inside her, her skin snug and tight around the tip, he’d felt it in other areas also. He’d groaned at the feel and taste as he’d lapped at her, her blood slowly running over his tongue like a fine, full bodied wine; sweet and addictive. It had also been potent, a few drops had been all he’d needed to fulfil him, sending his satisfaction at giving her pleasure to a whole new level. He didn’t usually use his fangs, but for the first time ever he’d been unable to resist and had pierced her tender flesh. Nuzzling her one last time, he released her hands and licked the last of her taste off his lips, swallowing as he moved back up the bed.
Blanketing her limp body, he held himself over her on his arms, watching in satisfaction as her lashes slowly fluttered open. Her dazed look, heaving chest and blown pupils once again filling him with satisfaction. He nudged at her entrance, flexing his spine as her wet heat coated the head. Leaning down, he took her mouth, sharing her own taste with her as he pushed home, then stopped, holding completely still. He took a moment to savour the sensation of being surrounded by her snug walls. He broke the kiss on a groan as he gained another inch inside her. Each slow thrust pushing him deeper, until he was buried to the hilt and there he stopped again. His arms quaking at the feel of the fine tremors of her internal muscles, stroking over him, squeezing and encasing him in heat and ecstasy. Her arms slowly rose, nails biting into his shoulder blades as her heels dug into the backs of his thighs. It gave her leverage, and each downward movement, he was met by her, adding friction.
“Again, mon angel,” he murmured against her mouth as he picked up the pace, losing himself in her body. His spine tingled as everything tightened, pulling and straining, getting ready - the silence before the storm. Sophia clung to him, rising and falling beneath him like a wave until she went still. A gasp left her as her body once more shook as she splintered beneath him, her internal muscles clamping down on him. He took her mouth, pushing through the strangling hold she had on him and exploded, convulsions wracking him as his body got dragged along with her for a heart shattering release.
“Luc, she whispered against his mouth.”
“Right here, mon amour,” he replied, breaking their kiss. “Oh, Sophia, good, so good,” he groaned as his head kicked back, neck muscles straining as he emptied himself deep inside her. His arms shook, then gave out as he collapsed over her, remembering to tuck his wings as he rolled to the side, pulling her over him.
Chapter Fifteen
L uc lay with an arm over his eyes, catching his breath as Sophia lay curled up against him. Her hand rested on his stomach as her breath teased his chest, and he sighed, feeling nearly human for the first time in centuries. He was amazed by the feelings this small woman brought in him. By rights he should not be comfortable with her, but he was, completely. He enjoyed how she felt against him, her slight weight, the feel of her breath against his naked skin. Listening to her rapid heartbeat as it slowed to a more normal rhythm filled him with calm. Then he stirred at the thought of the feeling of her body surrounding his own. Groaning, he dropped his arm and turned his head to nuzzle into her, his hand sifting through her hair as she rested against him.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, softly, his own harsh breathing settling. He felt her nod against him, as her hand drew circles on his stomach, making the muscles jump. “What are you thinking so hard about, I can practically hear the wheels turning,” he mumbled, tugging her further into him.
She sighed, then shuffling around; trying not to hurt his wings, she finally managed to rest her hands on his chest, beneath her chin and looked up at him. “Can you tell me about the curse?” she asked, eyes dipping. He used a wing tip to lift her chin so she was facing him.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes, if I’m to help you, I need to know it all,” she told him. Sighing, Luc frowned, thinking back to that fateful night.
“How about we shower first, then I’ll tell you everything over food,” he offered.
“Sounds like a plan,” Sophia replied.
“Bon,” Luc replied, using a wing to scoop her further into him as he edged off the bed, his arms going below her thighs and shoulders as his wings cradled her.
“Arrgh,” Sophia squealed, arms going around Luc’s neck to hold on for dear life as he strode toward the door opposite his bed.
She blinked as the light came on, but didn’t have time to look around as he kept going, only stopping as warm water began to cover them. He held her against him, her head tipping back against his arm, gazing up to see several shower heads hanging from the ceiling. The water was just the right temperature, no shock of cold water before it heated.
“Luc, you can put me down now,” told him, looking over the top of his wing to find that they were in a wet room. Several shower heads came at them from different locations, in the wall, as well as from the ceiling.
“Non, I like you just where you are,” Luc informed her, his wings moving away and out. He turned, the water hitting the leather like covering, the spray making her squeal as he shook them, like a bird, before folding them against his back. “Now they are rinsed, I think it is time I washed you,” he replied, slowly lowering her to her feet before him, her body rubbing along his on its way down.
He held her at arm’s length, his eyes roaming heatedly over her nakedness. She bit her lip and went to cross her arms but he growled, reaching for her hands, holding them out from her body with his own.
“I want to look.”
“I think you’ve already been up close and personal.”
“Non, not nearly enough,” he growled.” Then he released his hold on her and began to slowly turn her around, one of his hands pushing her wet hair over her shoulder. His eyes travelling down the lines of her back, a finger tracing over the swirling script on her side. “What does this mean,” he asked.
“That which is seen within mine eye, is not what is seen by mind alone. Vision changed and
featured altered, see that which I choose to show you.” Sophia informed him, clearing her throat as she moved self-consciously foot to foot.
“This is how you hid yourself in plain sight all this time?”
“Yes.”
“So how come I see you as you are now?”
“I chose for people to see me when I came out of hiding.”
“Show me,” Luc asked, trying to figure out if he’d seen her.
Sighing, Sophia closed her eyes and thought about the spell, thinking about her hair, changing it from long and wavy auburn with a sprinkling of silver, to dark brown, short and bobbed. Her skin colour altered form her usual light peach to a darker mocha, her height and shape changing too as she became slimmer and taller.”
Luc’s hand dropped and he took her shoulder and turned her to face him. His finger under her chin, lifting her head, until he could see her eyes, frowning as he found them changed. They were usually an oval shape, feline in appearance, with their deep emerald colouring, but now they were more rounded and a deep, dark brown. Her lips were thinner, and he ran his thumb along bottom one, trying to find anything of Sophia in this illusion. It began to waver and he felt her own soft lips beneath the pad of his thumb, her eye shape altered and the green bled into the brown. Her hair dropped around her shoulders, skin tone lightening and shape once again filling out to her luscious curves. Smiling in satisfaction, his head lowered, mouth taking hers in a light kiss.
“I prefer this Sophia,” he said against her mouth.
“The younger one?” she asked, mouth twisting and head turning from him, breaking their connection.
“No this one,” he tugged on the ends of her long hair, and cupped her bottom in his hands, lifting her until she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. “I love the red hair and the fire in your green eyes,” he whispered against her throat as he leaned her against the wall, his wings once again moving around them as they held her safe.
“You can see me through the illusion?” Sophia asked with a frown.
“Oui.”
“How, how do you see me?”
“It’s as if you have another image superimposed over your own, but I can see you beneath it,” he informed her as his mouth once again took hers.
“Oh,” she murmured against his mouth as she felt him grow hard once again between them.
“Oui, oh,” he rumbled, lifting her and sliding her down and over his length.
Once inside her again, the pace he set was fast and heart stopping. He broke the kiss and nibbled down her throat as he moved in and out of her body. Tonguing and sucking on her breasts, he groaned around her flesh as her internal muscles squeezed and massaged him. Releasing a nipple, his kissed back up her body, and the length of her throat. Taking her mouth, and her breath as he tipped her over the edge, following her over with a guttural groan, and her name slipping from his throat against her lips.
Luc slowly lowered Sophia’s feet to the floor, his obsidian, wings hooking under her arms to hold her upright as he began to wash her. His mouth kicking up in satisfaction as she hung like a damp dish cloth, thoroughly worn out.
“Knock the smug look off,” she mumbled, pushing her wet hair back off her face, as she tried to catch her breath. “Old lady here, you are going to give me a heart attack,” she grumbled, head now leaning back against the tiles as she dangled from his wings. He was in the middle of soaping her body when his hands stilled, and opening one eye she found him frowning before a look of pure horror crossed his face. “Luc, I was kidding,” she went to assure him, a hand rising to cup his cheek, but he got that stubborn set to his shoulders. It was the same rigidity he often got when she argued with him about her safety, just before he pushed her behind him to use his own body as a shield. “Honestly, I was just playing,” she told him, her hand stroking over his jaw, dark stubble prickling beneath her fingers. He sighed, moving into her caress, eyes closing.
“I will be more careful with you next time. I will go slower,” he told her, and it was now her turn to be speechless.
“Next time?”
“Of course, I will just treat you more gently,” he informed her with a nod. Then his wings lifted her beneath the water spray as his hands reached for the shower gel on the shelf. He squirted some into his hands and soaped her all over, making her blush as he dealt with her intimate areas, making her breathing hitch once more. Once her body was done, he washed her hair, then angling her body beneath the spray, he rinsed out the suds in her hair and on her body. Once she was squeaky clean, he took a dollop of conditioner and massaged her scalp and through the strands to the tips, then rinsed it all away. He then put her further back, but didn’t release her. She was impressed as she was held there, he used his wings as a second set of hands.
“My turn,” Sophia said, holding out a hand for the shower gel, but Luc shook his head.
“Non.”
“No?” she queried.
“Oui, non. If you touch me, we will not get out of here anytime soon, and I must be more careful with you.” Her eyes dropped down his big body, all defined muscles, tanned skin, strength and rippling power. They hit the happy trail of black hair beneath his belly button just as his erection sprang to life again. Reaching his navel, it bounced against his taught lower stomach with his movements; as if begging for attention. Her hand lifted, going around her throat as she swallowed.
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Oui, oh. See what you do to me,” he growled, shaking his head before tipping it back and quickly shampooing his hair. He then washed his own body as her eyes avidly followed his every move. Bottom lip held between her teeth to stop a whimper escaping as his hand ran over his abdominal muscles. She released her lip as her mouth dropped open, a shocked gasp escaping as he stroked up his length, and over the bulbous crown. He was impersonal as he cupped and handled his erection as she stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away. He seemed to be oblivious that he was fully erect with how impersonal he treated it. He didn’t even seem to notice that she was staring, and that he was in fact holding what looked like a divining rod, and that it was presently bobbing in her direction.
Once he’d rinsed, he took her hand, wings once again folding against this back, as he led her away from the shower heads. The water stopped as soon as they were near the sink, and Sophia looked back to them and then to Luc in query.
“Sensors,” Luc told her. It saves time,” he shrugged, pulling a big, soft, fluffy navy blue towel off a rack and wrapping her in it. He pushed the ends between her breast, sighing with regret as he traced a fingertip over the top of her breasts. Shaking his head, he removed it and took another towel down as he began to squeeze the moisture from her hair.
Once he was satisfied, he wrapped that towel around her hair like a turban, and dragged another off the shelf. He gave his hair a quick rub before wrapping it around his waist and securing it.
“Come, I’ll feed you, then we talk,” he told her taking her hand and leading her out of the bathroom and his room. They headed back up the hallways and in through the next door on the right. She was met with light wood cupboards and white appliances. He sat her down at a big wooden, farmhouse kitchen table, the chunky wood pitted but clean, as if it had served many families.
He pulled a frying pan off the rack above the big Aga cooker, that stood in the centre of the breakfast aisle. Placing it on the front ring, he lit it so it would heat while he opened the fridge, pulling out eggs, spinach, mushrooms and peppers. Closing the door again, he pulled a bowl out of the cupboard beside the cooker, quickly and expertly sliced the vegetables before whisking the eggs in the bowl. He then transferred the prepared ingredients to the frying pan, and within minutes, he’d made light, fluffy omelettes. Cutting it in half, he plated them up and brought them to the table, setting one before her, with cutlery, salt and pepper. He quickly set up the coffee maker and opened the fridge again, taking out a large carton, from which he poured two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. He
handed one to her and drank his while the coffee percolated.
“Eat, then we shall talk, he told her, taking the seat beside her.
How she was meant to eat when his wing was running over her shoulder and her eyes kept getting drawn to the slabs of muscle that danced as he moved she didn’t know.
“Here,” he leaned over and cut up her food, feeding her as if she were a child. “I need to keep up your strength,” he informed her, before taking a mouthful himself.
“My strength?”
“If I want to lose myself in your body, I must make sure you have energy first, so eat.”
Sophia blinked at him and he grinned at her before winking, as he took another mouthful from his fork. She didn’t know what to say to him, so chewed, then shrugging, tried to ignore the path his wing took as it stroked up and down her arm.
Once they’d finished, he placed their plates, glasses and cutlery in a dishwasher that was hidden beneath the sink before the large leaded side window, and poured two cups of coffee. He doctored her coffee with cream and sugar, and brought it back to the table with his own black one.
“I forgot, how is Balin doing?”
“Not as well as we were hoping, he’s still not managed to shift.”
“That’s not normal, is it?”
“No. it’s not. I know he tried when they rescued him, but he couldn’t manage it. At this time, we’re unsure if it’s the memory of the pain the shift caused or if something else is going on with him.”
“How about his injuries, are they healing?”
“He’s a lot better than he was, but the healing is slow going,” Sophia sighed. “That’s why Agatha couldn’t come with me to try to help Davion, she was doing another healing session on Balin.”
