by C. A. Storm
“Don’t I know it,” Rik laughed with a rueful shake of his head, the tension easing a bit from his shoulders and neck.
“So now you know the Story of Me,” Sam said, meeting Rik’s molten gaze. “What about you? What’s Rik’s story?”
Rik shrugged, suddenly looking rather uncomfortable as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. Interesting. He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes as he said, “Eldest of three, you know my two sisters. My family founded the Estates quite a few years back. My grandparents, Jean-Paul and Judith, have been married for many, many years, still as deeply and sickeningly in love as if they were teenagers. My parents,” Rik paused, his gaze meeting hers briefly before he gave a small sigh. “Well, my father, Sebastian, is the eldest of two. My Uncle Wilhelm currently lives in France, with my mother, Victoria. My father never really recovered when that happened, so he’s been…traveling around the world since then.”
Sam could see the conflicted emotions cross Rik’s face as he spoke. She reached out, placing her hand over his, and gently squeezed. Rik looked down at her hand, barely half the size of his own, her skin pale—and freckled, of course—against his golden tan. Entwining his fingers with hers, Rik lifted her hand and brought it up to his lips.
“It’s okay,” he said, gazing at her steadily over their clasped hands. Shrugging those shoulders that stretched the fabric of his shirt, Rik offered a half-grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ve had a few years to get used to it now. We usually don’t talk about it.” His expression grew bitter and mocking, “Especially since they’ve had two kids of their own. We don’t know if we should call them siblings or cousins, so we’re all just kind of ignoring it.”
Without even realizing she was doing so, Sam had gotten up and moved around the small table. He took off his Stetson as he tilted his head back, watching her come around the table. He blinked as she reached up and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked, disheveled hair, finger-combing the long bangs back from his forehead as she met his startled gaze.
“That is some truly fucked up shit, yo,” Sam said with an absolutely straight face.
Wrapping his large hands around her waist, Rik tugged her close, laughter once more lighting his expression and causing his eyes to return to that molten hue, more emerald than amber, like sunlight shimmering through leaves.
“You truly are an incredible woman, Ms. Samantha Kelly,” Rik’s voice was a low rumble as he tugged her closer. Slowly, he reached one hand up, sliding it through her hair, pulling out the bandana to let her waves fall freely down over her shoulders. Tangling his fingers in her hair, his eyes never left hers, a silent question—or was it a demand? —in those beautiful eyes of his.
As usual, Sam took the direct approach. She leaned forward and lightly brushed his upturned lips with her own. That was about as far as she got before Rik took complete and total control of the kiss. Not with his hands, he didn’t move his body any closer. No, the sneaky prick only had to use his mouth. A nip of her lower lip tugged her closer, the tip of his tongue slid against her upper lip, and the taste of him—all natural, with the faint hint of his toothpaste and mouthwash—drew her forward.
Sliding her arms around his neck, Sam let out a low, whimpering sound of need. She needed more of him. Now. His lips, firm and lush, teased hers, slowly drawing her closer and closer, until with a deep, throaty groan, his hands gripped the small of her back and tugged her closer. He shifted his seat, spreading his legs so she was nestled between his brawny thighs, trapped although she had no urge to escape.
Sam gasped and Rik’s tongue slid along hers, exploring, claiming her mouth with a hungry intensity that left her breathless. When he finally pulled back from her, his breath burst forth in a rough, ragged growl that sounded feral. Hands tight around her waist, his strong thighs pressed against her legs, he trembled as he took in a slow, deep breath.
“Ma petite flamme, the things you make me want to do.” His voice was raspy, his grip possessive, hands kneading her hips as he closed his eyes and struggled to regain control.
Unclasping her hands from the back of his neck, Sam leaned back a little and lightly tapped the tip of Rik’s straight, imperious nose. Once he opened his eyes and she had his attention, Sam smiled. “So, your place or mine?”
Rik just stared at her for a few seconds, and Sam took a mental snapshot of the stunned, speechless look on his handsome face. That was one for the mental scrapbook!
Grabbing his Stetson, Rik shoved it on his head as he stood up, his chair falling back with a clatter he paid absolutely no attention to. Grabbing her hand, Rik pressed a quick, hard, possessive kiss against her lips. He chuckled against her lips, his breath warm and sweet, as he brought her right hand up against the left side of his chest.
“You up for some debauchery in the Maiden Tower?” Rik’s amused purr gave her shivers.
“Well,” Sam said thoughtfully, her lips just scant millimeters away from his as she met his eyes. “Traditionally, the knight doesn’t get the maiden until after he saves her from the wicked dragon.”
“This is our fairy tale, mon amour,” Rik said softly, his right hand lifting to gently trace his fingers along her jawline. His grin, however, was pure wicked male as he said, “So let’s go have our happy ending.”
She wasn’t going to laugh. Really, she wasn’t…Sam’s giggles had her collapsing against Rik’s chest, and the smirking jerk swept her easily up into his arms and uncaring of the attention they were drawing, he sauntered out of the saloon and toward his car.
Chapter 20
Rik was on a mission. He had a soulmate to claim.
Possessively holding his cara against his chest—where she belonged—Rik had juggled open the passenger side door, after cursing vividly as he struggled to get his keys out of the pocket of his too-tight jeans. Sam was little help, the little imp burying her blushing face in his shoulder and giggling madly. He had gently set her down in the seat, reaching over her to pull on the belt and stealing a quick, hungry kiss. A kiss that may have gone on for a bit longer than he had intended, when he heard a sudden hooting and cheering from the saloon entrance behind him.
Tearing his lips reluctantly from Sam’s sweet, sweet lips, Rik tossed a middle finger over his shoulder as he quickly sped to the other side of the Rover. Nearly tearing the door off its hinges as he ripped open the driver’s side, he slid into his seat and fired it up. His tires might have squealed as he pulled out of the lot, but his entire focus was on the grinning woman next to him.
Rik might have cheated. Just a little. In his rush to get his cara back to the Estates, he just might have wrapped his Range Rover in a powerful field of glamour, drawing upon his protective instincts and magics to not only shield his speeding vehicle from view, but to also ensure the journey would be swift and unimpeded. Traffic lights stayed green, the few other motorists out this late found alternate routes, and even the birds and beasts that haunted the wilds of the Rockies stayed out of Rik’s path.
Mentally, Rik cursed the fact he had none of the travelling oaths, but he could at least empower his “mighty steed,” or SUV as the case may be.
The drive was made in less than half the time it normally took, the Range Rover tearing down the narrow roads that led around Shadow Lake, through the town of Grand Lake, and up the back roads that led to the Estates. The night was clear and crisp, the stars washing the sky in sparkling gems not even the lights of distant Denver could completely wash away. Although the moon was not quite full, it was nearly directly overhead, just edging over the western peaks and casting deep verdant shadows edged in frosty, quicksilver light.
The Rockies never failed to awe Rik with their beauty, except for tonight. Tonight, his awe was entirely held by the tiny, curvy firebrand who was quietly watching him as he drove. He struggled to keep his eyes on the road, although when she had placed her small, warm hand on his thigh, he had nearly plowed into a run-off ditch. Placing his large hand over hers, he wrapped his fingers around her
s and brought her hand to his lips for a quick brush of his lips.
“Mon amour,” Rik heard the low, husky growl in his own voice, “Once we get home, you can touch to your heart’s content. Please, touch to your heart’s content.” Yes, he wasn’t above begging.
He kept hold of her hand, placing it back on his thigh but keeping it from roaming as he soaked in her laughter. Man, if he didn’t get home soon, his jeans were going to explode.
Finally, he released her hand as they pulled into the drive leading toward the Estate’s underground lot. Pulling into his spot, he was out of his seat and around to her door before she could even unfasten her belt. Opening her door, he bodily lifted her from her seat, grinning widely down at her when her arms automatically curled around his shoulders.
“There we go,” Rik purred in satisfaction as he kicked the SUV door closed and trotted quickly to the elevator.
Leaning up, Sam placed her lips next to his ear, and damn near brought him to his knees as her teeth nipped at the lobe and her warm breath whispered against his sensitive flesh, “We forgot my purse at the saloon.”
Rik stumbled to a halt before the elevators, his brain finally catching back up as he looked down into her impishly grinning face. With a roll of his eyes, he growled, “Woman, the more difficult you make this, the more I’m going to have to paddle that ass of yours.”
“Promises, promises,” Sam teased.
Adopting a mock scowl, Rik rubbed his scruffy jaw against her bare neck as he growled low and deep, eliciting a shrieking laughter as Sam pushed against his shoulders and squirmed away from his sandpapery five-o-clock shadow. “Oh, it’s definitely a promise, baby.”
Rik hiked Sam’s weight up as he lifted his right leg, resting his foot against his knee before he sat her on his upraised thigh, supporting her weight and maintaining his balance with deceptive ease while he fished his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it with his thumb, he held it to his ear as he grinned into Sam’s amused face.
“Clara, could you please make sure to grab Sam’s purse? Think we forgot it when we left. Oh? You’ve already got it? Great! Nah, just bring it by in the morning. Sam’s not going to need it tonight.”
Ignoring Sam’s gasp, and her brilliant blush, Rik thumbed his phone off and tucked it back into his pocket as he kissed the tip of her nose. “There, taken care of. Anything else, mon amour, or can we get to the debauching?”
Hands clinging to his shirt, Sam wrinkled her nose up at him and gave a put-upon sigh. “Very well, if I must, I must.” Dramatically placing the back of one hand against her forehead, she tossed her head back, “Debauch me, Sir Knight, before the dragon comes!”
Repositioning her once more in his arms, carrying her like a bride across the threshold, Rik entered the elevator and took it to the main floor. This late in the evening, the halls were empty, any guests and visitors since having found their rooms. Once more, Rik may have cheated and used his glamour to mask their presence, making sure they were unbothered as he carried her along the halls toward the Maiden Tower and her room.
“Shit,” Sam muttered against his shoulder, her eyes turning up to meet his, “My keycard’s in my purse.”
“It’s okay, I got it,” Rik muttered. He could just take her to his room, but dammit, they were already at her door! Once more, he called upon glamour, letting his aura wrap around Sam to keep her distracted. To further provide distraction, he captured her lips in a hungry, dominating kiss, pressing her shoulders back against the door as he let her slide down his body.
When she moaned deep in her throat, her eyes fluttering closed, he reached around her and touched the electronic lock. Modern electronics were surprisingly vulnerable to glamour, in no small part thanks to the way glamour adapted. It was why some modern Fae had given birth to an entirely new species, the Gremlins, whose mastery of electronics and love of technology had allowed them to infiltrate tech companies around the globe. Shh, don’t tell anyone that nearly every electronic device manufactured in the last two decades had been made vulnerable to glamour. Even Big Brother didn’t have as many back doors and secret hacks as the Gremlins did.
The electronic lock, specifically keyed to respond to the glamour of the Leon family and Fae, responded easily to Rik’s mystical pushing, the door opening with an audible click.
Sam tore her lips from his in a gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes as she said, “What? How did you…?”
Rik once more bodily picked Sam up, sliding his hands over the firm, round globes of her ass as he directed her to wrap her legs around his waist while he recaptured her lips in a fierce kiss meant to dominate and distract. He pushed into the room, heeling the door closed as he bore Sam toward the bed.
The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp Sam had left on next to the bed, but Rik could clearly see the beautiful woman softly illuminated by the warm light. Letting her once more slide down his body, Rik took a slow, calming breath as he slid his large hands up to her shoulders. Meeting her gaze, he said softly, “One last chance, ma petite flamme…I can give you a last kiss good night or I can debauch you until you can’t remember your own name.”
Rik may have held his breath as he waited for her answer. It would be difficult, but he would walk away if it killed him, at least for tonight, if she so wished. Otherwise, she was going to be more than fucked, she was going to be thoroughly claimed by a Sidhe before the dawn. A small part of his conscience—yes, he did have one, just a little one, but it was there—yelled at him that he had to tell her about his true self, about the Sidhe and the Uncanny, but with her right before him, warm and willing and sweet, he was willing to damn the consequences, and use eternity to make sure she forgave him. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? He was rich, handsome, and he would be totally and completely hers.
The internal debate ended when Sam responded by sliding the sweater down off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her off-the-shoulder dressed emphasized her cleavage, the creamy swells of her freckled breasts straining against the black fabric. That would have been plenty to push Rik over the edge, but then he caught the glimmer of the glamour curling around her left breast, the translucent yet vivid vines that undulated against her flesh, hints of gold flashing behind the roses that were blossoming, becoming more lifelike, before his very eyes. The mark was identical to the one that had been growing on his chest, an intricate knotwork that truly marked them as already bound.
It happened rarely, even among the Sidhe, that the binding began before anam cara even met, growing stronger and more powerful until the soulmates were driven to complete the binding that would truly weave their souls into a greater whole. Such unions were said to be momentous, heralding events both grand and terrible.
With a trembling hand, Rik reached up and gently traced a finger along Sam’s collarbone, up the sweep of her neck, along her jaw to tap lightly on her bottom lip. “I need the words, Sam,” he husked, eyes intent. “Let me claim you, ma petite flamme…?”
“Yes.”
Closing his eyes and whispering a silent prayer of thanks to the Fates, Rik pressed a kiss against the center of her forehead as he murmured, “Merci, mon amour, merci.” He slid his hands slowly over her shoulders as he gently turned her around.
Rik slowly lowered the zipper of her dress, fingertips grazing along satin and lace warmed by her flesh. Sam’s hands flew up as the dress slid downward, her hands clutching the fabric to her chest. Rik reached around, grasping her hands gently and pulling them away to allow the fabric to slip downward to pool at her feet. Hands still grasping hers, he turned her around so he could look upon her. His breath exploded from his chest at the sight of her.
Beneath her dress, Sam was wearing a black lace and red satin bustier that pressed her firm, heavy breasts upward, in offering to him obviously, while emphasizing her nipped-in waist and the flare of her hips. His eyes hungrily devoured the freckles scattered in constellations across the tops of her breasts, a finger reaching up to trace a particularly tantalizin
g trail that disappeared into the dusky valley formed by those glorious orbs.
Sam inhaled sharply when his finger dipped between her breasts, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, letting his finger continue along the edge of the bustier covering her breast before he let his hands fall from her.
When Rik stepped back, Sam looked at him questioningly, her head tilting to one side. Her silken mane of burning copper slithered down over her breasts, but as she reached up to brush it back, Rik shook his head.
“No, leave it down, please.” Rik couldn’t keep the need from his voice as his eyes traveled down Sam’s nearly nude body. He had to bite his own lip as he saw that not only was she wearing a pair of sheer, black lace boy shorts, but that she also wore garter belts and thigh high stockings, sheer black stockings that highlighted her strong calves and powerful thighs he needed to feel wrapped around him. Now.
Rik groaned aloud, his knees buckling as his cock surged to full strength, thick and throbbing with anticipation. With Sam still wearing her glasses? She was the epitome of naughty school teacher and wicked librarian in one pint-sized, curvaceous bundle that was now his and his alone.
Before meeting Sam, Rik would have sworn that he had the best life in the world, that he had everything he needed. Now he knew better. This woman, who frustrated and fascinated him, who challenged him, and who made his cock ache like never before—now, his life was finally complete.
Chapter 21
There was truly something thrilling in being so easily manhandled for a curvy girl like Sam. The ex-fiancé had been able to do it, and had seemed to appreciate her curves, but Rik’s every touch was reverent as his hands slid over her shoulders and turned her away from him. He had slowly peeled her out of her dress, and when she had instinctively sought to keep it from falling, he had drawn her hands away and turned her back to face him when she was only clad in her lingerie.
