Summer Solstice Scorchers

by Whiskey Creek Press Authors

  Damn it to hell, he would have her. And have her now!

  Their bodies crashed into each other like two warring waves. In an instant, his hands were on her, caressing, roaming, and gliding over her deliciously taunt body. He noticed how her hands eager and soft crept over his buttocks feeling for his anus. They spiraled to the cold wooden floor and its rough carpet covering. Each breathing hot, heavy and labored, as if the air had grown thinner and could no longer support their intake.

  With his cock growing ever harder, he snatched her hair back, giving him a full view of her neck, and there he bent down to lick and nip. Drawing moans and sighs interchangeably, Trace let go to the feelings, the touch and taste of her.

  Tara's wet lips met his, tugging on his lip and drawing it in her petal soft mouth. He shuddered, his nipples hardening.

  And his weren't the only ones.

  Nude, her peaks pointed painfully out, and he bent greedily to suckle them. The taut tips tightened beneath his warm mouth, and she arched up to meet him. Moaning, she shoved her hands into his hair, and pulled him down to her.

  "Yes, there! Kiss, oh, oh, bite, oh!” Tara tumbled onto her back.

  Trace suspended all thoughts but those of possessing her, holding her. He drew back, his head ringing with desire, his cock aching to be touched, to be used, for release. Yet, he wanted to devour her—slowly.

  He dipped down again, licking the outline of her stomach and nipping at her belly button, an oddity elves didn't have. Tara's hips rose and fell in time with her breathing. Squirming with anxiousness, she guided his head to where she really wanted him.

  With her fingers firmly ensnared in his black hair, she spread her legs and said hotly, “There. Lick me there!"

  He slid down more and inhaled her human scent—a must of tremendous calling. Instantly his cock began to drip its first droplets of fluid, as if salivating at the thought of slipping into Tara's slickness.

  "Do it, please, don't make me ask again,” Tara pleaded, but beneath the surface, lay an order, and not for the first time did Trace wonder how such a strong spirit could be chained to Dinji.

  Shoving the question aside for now, he obeyed. Rolling her stony clit between his teeth, he wrapped his lips around it. Tara sucked in a breath so rushed; she nearly came off the floor.

  Laughing from the back of his throat, Trace sucked the tiny love bud, and all of Tara's control dissolved beneath his licks and nips. In minutes, her hot sex was pressed against his mouth in time to a rhythm only she knew the melody to.

  "Oh, yessss, oh, yesss,” she groaned over and over.

  Trace liked the sound, and his own cock continued to stiffen until he thought he'd explode in a shower of throbbing pain. But he waited until he could stand it no longer.

  Tara sped up her thrusts against his mouth. With his jaw tiring, Trace grinned and slipped his finger into her canal, past the puffy and drenched lips of her pus.

  Once his finger entered her, Tara bucked like mad.

  "Oh, is this what you want?” he asked coyly. “My finger..."

  A shriek shot through the room and Tara sat up. With her eyes half closed, she pounced on him, sending him falling backward.

  Tara rolled over him, her braids brushing his face. She straddled him, and with her eyes closed, she whispered, “What I want is this, not your finger."

  She reached down and harshly grabbed his cock, making him grunt and wince. With her soft hands moving up and down, Trace closed his eyes and lifted his buttocks off the floor to make sure she stroked his entire stiffened member.

  "You want me to have this, right?” Tara cooed. “All of this meaty, but delicate treat?"

  "Yes,” Trace groaned, his heart hammering, his throat dry. “Goddess, yes."

  "What will you give me in return, soul snatcher?” she asked, purring against his face. “Name your payment."

  Trace frowned, but once Tara's hand stroked up his cock, and back down to his scrotum, the room faded away. All that remained was her voice, her hand, and her body's warmth pressed against him. He could feel the hairs of her pus brush against his cock, and he wanted to push himself inside her tight tunnel.

  "Everything,” he said. “Anything! Only join with me, now!"

  With this, she laughed, and held his cock high and straight and then plowed onto him, his hardened member smashing inside her tight walls with a thunderous, “Ahhh!” from Tara.

  Giving in fully, well past the point of returning to conversation, Trace held her waist as she bounced on him. She pulled him inside her with each thrust and threatened to bring him to climax without regard for tenderness.

  Never had a woman handled him so. Tara ravished him, sparking all of his emotions, pinching his nipples, smacking and squeezing his scrotum, and when he felt he'd explode, Tara's pus clamped down and refused to let go until she'd milked every drop of his essence into her loving canal.

  He felt her reach the pinnacle, her nails drawing blood from his chest, adding their own flashes of pain to his pleasure.

  "Yes! Ohhh, yes! Trace! Trace!” she shouted as if possessed.

  When she fell into his arms at last, he realized she fit perfectly there. And he was loathe to let her go.

  As he kissed her naked shoulder, she said, “Did you smile?"

  "Yes,” Trace replied softly.

  Then he thought of his seduction, his bewitchment at her hands, and pondered again the level of trust she warranted. She had stolen his soul.

  Dinji's pet had wormed her way into his heart.

  Now what?

  * * * *

  Morning sliced through the cracked panes of his cottage window. Trace rolled out of bed to the sounds of more knocking at his door. He discovered himself alone, and couldn't remember when Tara had left. The knocks shook the door's ancient frame. He groaned, his room smelling strongly of old sex and flowers. Tara.

  He rushed to the door, using his blanket as a covering.

  "What?"

  Aryl said, “Dinji wants you. Sent messengers, but no answer."

  Swearing softly, Trace hurried back inside and snatched on his clothing from the day prior. When Dinji called, one did not ignore him.

  "Let us be quick,” Aryl said, as he watched Trace get ready.

  "I am being quick!"

  Several minutes later, with his lungs heaving, Trace approached the main entranceway.

  Dinji stood in front of his throne.

  "Ah, there you are."

  "I am here, sire,” Trace said. Does Dinji know of Tara's night with me? Why call me so soon from home? Another snatching wouldn't occur for six months, half a rotation.

  Dinji said with a chuckle. “I summoned you here, because I want more souls!"

  Trace's head lifted. He knows my thoughts?

  "Oh, yes, Trace, I can read your thoughts and those of everyone in the castle,” Dinji said as he sat gingerly down on his throne. “The souls provide the final ingredient in a potion that allows me to do just that."

  "No,” Trace said in disbelief. “You ingest the souls of others?"

  Queasy, Trace shook his head no in disbelief.

  "Yes, yes,” Dinji said with a smile. “Now, this business of collecting souls twice a year is pathetic..."

  Trace's eyes widened. “There aren't enough human souls for more! Some of the humans have banded together. The oracle—"

  "Silence!” Dinji shouted. “The oracle's prediction can only mean the great goddess is to return. When she returns is a matter of conjecture.” Dinji's slender shoulders rose and fell in cool indifference. “Finding more souls is your problem. Do it or die."

  Trace's lips pulled back into a snarl, his temper inched steadily toward exploding. “Dinji..."

  "Have you forgotten who is ruler?” Dinji asked, his voice like ice, his head tossed back defiantly.

  Trace did not answer. The usually crowded hall seemed to close in on him. Hot and trying to rein in his temper, he gritted his teeth.

  Dinji went on, “The throne once belonged
to your family line, did it not? They were overthrown several rotations prior by my grandfather because they were weak!"

  Trace shoved his ire deep inside, forcing his mind to stay blank.

  "Right?” Dinji asked, grinning with wicked malice.

  "Yes, sire,” Trace answered, his smooth voice devoid of the terrible rage that boiled inside him. His gaze spied the turquoise sleeve just before it vanished behind the curtains that lined the wall behind Dinji. “Forgive me, sire. I will leave at once."

  "Better,” Dinji said, disinterestedly.

  Trace bowed in a quick, stiff manner before walking out of the castle and around to the courtyard, following the scent of flowers—Tara. The outdoor courtyard at the rear of the castle served as his escape route from feasts.

  How Tara knew he'd go there could only be more magic.

  As he stepped up the broken stone steps into the courtyard, he immediately spotted Tara sitting under a stone archway. The packed patches of dirt muffled his footsteps, for no vegetation grew here. Instead it was decorated with stones and colored glass.

  She smiled when she saw him and said, “I knew you'd find me. There is little time."

  She reached up to kiss his face, but he turned away.

  "What? Did you not enjoy our time together?” she asked, her hands still on his face.

  "I was bewitched,” he said, but knowing deep down it wasn't true. He had wanted her, still desired her, as much now as he did last evening. “I do not trust you."

  She sighed heavily. Fear crept into her voice. “You don't trust me because I am human. But you do not trust Dinji either, and he is elven. I haven't offended or stolen from you. Dinji has."

  He stood stonily silent. She was right, but he wasn't going to tell her. It all felt so, so strange and new.

  "Why is this so hard for you?” Tara asked, laying her head against his chest, making him flinch. “We were good together, no?"

  "I am a soul snatcher! I kill humans!"

  Tara wrapped her arms around him.

  "This is the reason you must replace Dinji and make peace between humans and elves. You, more than anyone. If Dinji has his way, he will murder all of the humans."

  His gaze linked with hers and anger rolled out of him.

  "So what? They are only humans."

  Even though the words were harsh, his tone wasn't. He didn't really believe all humans should die. Haven't I contemplated resigning the post of soul snatcher? The oracle's prophesy resonated inside him.

  "Yes, but once the humans are gone, who will Dinji turn to for souls? His potion is all he craves,” she said softly, squeezing his waist.

  Trace sighed. Her hands touching him made thinking difficult and hard. Yet what she asked of him was mad. Go against Dinji. The deranged look in the king's eyes a few minutes ago held all the proof Tara wasn't lying. The potion was all Dinji craved, and the people deserved more...

  "What have I to do with the fate of humans?” he asked, his heart heavy and his body longing for more time with Tara.

  "Your fate is with me, and your duty is to Tellen."

  Somehow as wrong as it sounded to his ears, it made perfect sense to his heart.

  * * * *

  Hours later, Dinji stretched as he turned from his window that overlooked the decrepit courtyard and out over the Eastern Forest. The sun's rays dipped under the horizon and night blanketed the world.

  Tara sat on the floor near the fireplace. The outside chilliness would soon seep into the castle, turning the floor to ice. She snatched her cloak tighter about her body, but shuddered all the same. If only she had her magic to warm her, but the bracelets remained on her wrists.

  "I know you were with him today and last evening,” Dinji said quietly, his voice absent of accusation because he knew. He sat on his bed, staring out the window.

  She said nothing. Her fingers traced invisible circles on the floor, her mouth moved, but no sound could be heard.

  A confession wasn't forthcoming from her lips. If she could get this woodland spell right, she might be able to do something about her bracelets.

  "No!” he bellowed, and slid down to the floor and snatched her up by her robe. He lifted her to her feet and leaned in so close to her face that his nose gently bumped hers. “No spells here! You know the rules. Break them, Tara, and so help me, you'll be back in the dungeon!"

  She laughed so hard that tears spilled and slid down her smooth, dark face. As if this floor wasn't frigid enough! He couldn't threaten her anymore. She'd learned new spells, one the current bracelets didn't block.

  "Do not mock me, human. Or you'll find yourself served up for the evening meal."

  At this she stopped laughing, though she knew he needed her. He needed her to sustain the balance of power in Tellen.

  "You are a thief and a tyrant,” she said quietly as her stare locked with his. She snatched her arms free and continued to draw circles around the floor.

  He raised his hand and slapped her across the face, sending her sprawling. “Don't you speak to me in that tone! The soul snatcher is nothing. Nothing!"

  Her gaze once again met his, and she spit a bloody splat onto the floor. She rose up and said to him, “Do that again, Dinji, and it will be your last act of violence. I am no elf, and I have grown tired of this game."

  He snarled at her and she gazed coolly back at him.

  "I am not granting your freedom,” he said, his own lips curling into a grin. “The bracelets stay on those tiny wrists, forever."

  "Your word, you promised! The throne and Tellen, for your freedom, you said. You promised!” she screamed, the vein along her temple throbbing in fury. He couldn't keep the bracelets on her forever. “Bastard!"

  "I have decided. You have betrayed me with your lover, Trace!” Dinji bellowed.

  Tara shouted, “I have been faithful and obedient!"

  Three hard knocks against the door temporarily interrupted their dispute.

  "Come!” Dinji called, his chest heaving in anger.

  A guard came into the room.

  "Sire, the soul snatcher has returned."

  The guard's face was sapped and slightly aghast, yet Dinji took no notice. Glee filled Dinji's face and with his anger at Tara forgotten, he hurried into the grand hall with her right behind him.

  Trace! Tara hurried behind Dinji. Surely, he hadn't killed any more people.

  As soon as she entered the hall, her heart sank.

  Trace stood at the foot of the dais, covered in blood. His midnight robe glistened under the lanterns. His face was stained with splashes of wet, dark liquid. His gray eyes stared out at Dinji, and his lips were pressed together tightly.

  Trace stuck out his gloved hand and the orb glowed through the smears of blood.

  "Here, Dinji. Enjoy, for this may be the last of the human souls you ever ingest. I warned you of the dangers of daily intake."

  Dinji sat down carefully. “Explain the meaning of this."

  "Can you not read my mind?” Trace asked, his fury seeping through his usual calm demeanor.

  "Still your tongue, or I will separate you from it!” Dinji ordered, but his eyes were wide with fear. He turned to Aryl and barked, “Explain!"

  "Sire,” Aryl began, “the humans decided to camp together and post guards. A trap was set and once we arrived at what we thought was an unprotected camp, they attacked. They were ready for us ... I-I have never felt better."

  Trace glanced at Aryl before adding, “As a result of your greed, there are now only a handful of defenseless humans remaining in the forest. No more than twenty. Those souls are the last, for Aryl butchered dozens tonight to protect me and the orb as is his sworn duty. It is only a matter of time before those humans join with the others..."

  Dinji's eyes were frozen in disbelief. “You lie!"

  "Drink! Drink your potion and tell me that I am lying,” Trace spat out, bitterly. “Twice a year, on a rotating schedule so they always remained off balanced!"

  "Silence!” Dinji thund
ered and leapt to his feet. “If I cannot have human souls, I will have elven souls! It is no matter. Only the potion is important."

  "Do you insist on our demise?” Trace swore heatedly.

  He nearly dropped the sphere as his gaze met Tara's. She had been right. “You are mad! The souls of your own kin? I will not engage in such blasphemy."

  "Then you will die!” Dinji said, his eyes wild and his hands waving in the air as if to catch the souls himself. “Guards, restrain him!"

  "Better I die, than you reap the souls of my people. I am the last soul snatcher,” Trace said between clenched teeth.

  Dinji grinned. “You are the last of your line, ‘tis true. But you are not the only soul snatcher. Aryl is capable of such. His line has produced those who can call the orb."

  Tara watched in stunned silence as the guards took the orb from Trace's hand. It immediately fell dark. They removed his dagger and dragged him down to the dungeon, where no light shined and no one escaped.

  * * * *

  Trace sat on the floor of his cell, hearing the dripping of water from some underground lake and the celebration in the great hall. He had, after all, returned with souls. But soon, his eyelids grew heavy and he dozed. It seemed as soon as he closed his eyes, he heard, “Wake, soul snatcher. Your time has come."

  Tara.

  He bolted up. Despite the murky darkness, he could see her outline. The hood of her robe was pulled over her black hair, but he could still see the smile that tugged at her wicked lips.

  She removed her hood and dug into her robe's pocket. In her hand, she held a key and unlocked his cell door.

  "Come,” she said. “We must stop him."

  "How?"

  "You must tell them Dinji's plan."

  "What? They are devoted to him,” he said, his heart hammering inside his chest. “Telling them could get me killed."

  Tara shook her head. “They are under my spell. If you agree to tell them, I will cancel it."

  "What do you mean?” He frowned at her in the waning light.

  "I mean,” she said impatiently, “that the only reason the people of Tellen follow Dinji is because of a spell I placed on the city. I've been practicing and reading all this time to find a spell I could work to counteract it."