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The Devil's Russian Beauty

Page 21

by Ana Lee Kennedy


  Ending the kiss, he rolled to the edge of the couch, his libido screaming it wanted more, and Phil trying desperately to gain control of it. He palmed first one of her breasts, massaging it, then the other. Daffodil moaned and pushed into his palm as he alternated between them.

  “No one has ever made me feel this way, Phillip,” she murmured, her eyes closed, “and I truly mean it.”

  “Trust me, baby doll, I want you so badly that my dick might shatter.”

  She giggled at that. “Well, since we’re past outercourse now”—she took his hand and smoothed it down her abdomen to the band of her pajama bottoms—“maybe we can enjoy more intimate foreplay.”

  He gulped. If he touched her pussy, made her come by finger-fucking her, there was no way he wasn’t going to finish in his briefs. It wouldn’t be the relief he wanted, but it sure as hell would ease the mounting pressure. He slipped his fingers under the band of her slacks and found that she wore no panties. A low moan escaped him. He’d bet the woman slept naked too. Gliding his hand down farther, palm flat and fingers pointed toward her sex, he found a small patch of pubic hair that tantalized his skin. He shut his eyes, mentally telling his cock to behave itself and receiving a harder throb that told him it didn’t give a shit what he thought. At the edge of her pubic bone, he curled his fingers over it, detecting the tip of her pussy, the first little indentation promising heat, velvet sensation and a way to send Daffodil soaring over the edge.

  “Mmm…” She sighed and raised her hips, offering him the promise of what was inside her.

  Phil palmed her mound, and she nearly shot up off the cushions.

  “Holy hell,” she gasped. “I don’t know if I can keep from making love to you. Maybe we should stop before—”

  He stroked the innermost part of her folds, her pussy silky, wet and delightfully hot.

  “Fuck!” She jerked her hips. “Want you so badly, Phillip.”

  Damn his cock. It throbbed so hard, so painfully, that it would be only a matter of seconds before he’d have to go change his pants, but he couldn’t stop touching Daffodil, and the idea that he could make her explode so easily just by fingering her fueled his desire to bring her to completion. He slipped his middle finger into her core. A kitten’s mew fell from Daffodil’s lips. When he was sure she had a grip on herself, he inserted his index finger, then his ring finger.

  She lay panting, eyes squeezed shut, body arched, breasts pointed to the ceiling. He pumped his fingers.

  “Oh!” She thrust against his hand.

  Clenching his teeth in an effort to maintain control of himself, he pumped his fingers again, then again.

  “Phil…lip!”

  His cock so fucking hard he couldn’t stand it any longer, Phillip began plunging his fingers in and out of her like pistons. Her passage gripped his fingers, the satiny feel of it making him wish desperately that it was his dick inside her instead. She met him thrust for thrust, her moans and soft exclamations building his own desire. He pumped a little faster, and she worked her hips to match his pace.

  “Phillip… Ooh, my…” She stiffened briefly, then began bucking crazily. Her inner walls grasped him harder, the rhythmic pulsing of her channel and pussy lips pushing Phil over the edge too. He thrust his hips against the cushion where her hips lay. The incredible tingling at the base of his spine zipped to his balls, which tightened so painfully he grunted, then the sensation flowed to the tip of his cock and he finally came with a low howl that had him humping the sofa so hard it shook.

  She kept coming, her inner walls milking his fingers until, finally, she lay breathing heavily. “Hell,” she whispered. “I’ve never come that hard before—ever. Especially this way.”

  “Well, I’d kneel here and cuddle,” he replied with a chuckle, “but sticky briefs are not very romantic, or comfortable.”

  She raised up on one elbow and kissed him. “You’re incredible.”

  “So are you, baby doll.”

  He helped her stand, but she wobbled on weak legs. “See what you do to me?” she joked.

  “Imagine what it’ll be like when we can make love the proper way.”

  “Damn, Phillip. Now I want you all over again.”

  He grinned, feeling powerful, then followed her into the cabin and to the bedroom, where he took out clean joggers and another pair of briefs while she rummaged for panties in her backpack. In the bathroom, he cleaned himself up, then donned his clothes, making sure the soiled ones were fully in the hamper. When he returned to the bedroom, Daffodil stood with her back to him, stooped over slightly to pull on her lacy underwear.

  He gulped, hard. Incredible ass didn’t begin to describe Daffodil’s bottom. And those legs—fuck they were gorgeous sticks!

  She realized he was watching her and quickly jerked her panties up. “You’re cheating,” she said.

  “Didn’t mean too—but oh mama!”

  Laughing, her face growing pink, she pulled on her bottoms and covered her breasts with her hands. “My top is on the sunporch.”

  He motioned to her and they returned to the sunporch. He stoked the fire again as she put on her pajama top.

  Once they were settled back on the sofa, the afghan drawn over them, she startled as a wind gust buffeted the windows, shaking the glass in their frames.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed and hugged her tighter.

  “I still want you,” she whispered. “How is that possible?”

  “The same reason Luella and Bernadette gave you.”

  “It sucks.”

  He chuckled. “At times like this, yes, it does.”

  “Did you enjoy the party?”

  “I did,” he said, “but I enjoy being here with you more.”

  “Trick or treat with the kids was fun.”

  “Would you like to have children?”

  She glanced at him sharply. “I’ve never really thought about it before. I mean, living the way I have, the last thing a sweetbutt wants is to have a kid, but now that I’m with you, I wouldn’t say no to the idea.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I could see myself living here with a little towhead running around the cabin and the yard.”

  “Good,” he said, wriggling deeper into the sofa with her. “We’ll enjoy each other for a couple years, then talk about starting a family.”

  “What do I do for that couple of years?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Bernadette has her writing career, Luella is the she-wolf who watches over the MC and community, handling everything from the MC’s money to groceries to making sure that a couple of the kids don’t get any peanut products in their food when they eat at the main house… Puppy is involved in helping Luella with all that she does, and many of the women have day jobs.” She blinked rapidly as a spear of light from the stove angled across her face. “Even Maeve has started a little business sewing custom-made clothing and offering alterations. I haven’t seen any of what she had made, but Bernadette says her mom is very talented and already has more orders from people in Rebellion than she can keep up with.” She sighed deeply. “I don’t have any skills, no talents, and I didn’t even finish school.”

  “So get your GED, then enroll in one of the local colleges to study what interests you.”

  His suggestion seemed to genuinely shock her. “Seriously?”

  “Why not?” He studied her with a frown. “You’re very intelligent, learn quickly. And you’ve proven you can adapt to anything, even the data-entry job at the auditor’s office. How’d you get hired there?”

  “Ezra called in a favor, I guess,” she replied glumly.

  “But you still learned how to do the data entry, and from what Bernadette said, you worked quickly and efficiently.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What things interest you?”

  “I’m…not sure.”

  “Well,” Phil said, “do you like computer stuff? Have you ever thought about working in the medical profession—”
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br />   “Oh, I could never work as a registered nurse or a doctor.” Her eyes grew huge.

  He laughed. “There are other professions in the medical field such as medical records, transcribing a doctor’s notes or even something as simple as an LPN to start your path to being a registered nurse. If kids interest you, maybe teaching is the ticket.” He chucked her under the chin with his index finger. “Baby doll, the world is your oyster. You can do anything you want to do.”

  “Bernadette says I have a lot of fashion sense, especially makeup,” Daffodil began, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Maybe I could go into cosmetology school?”

  “There’s a beauty college in Wheeling.”

  “Really?”

  She said it so seriously, so awed, that he hugged her, chuckling. “Really.”

  They talked for a long time, and as he grew sleepy and Daffodil’s remarks and questions became fewer and her body warmer as she relaxed against him, the first snowflakes of the season fluttered down past the windows. There might be a warm-up or two in the future, but snow meant one thing—winter had officially arrived.

  Chapter Twenty

  A hand moved up Bernadette’s thigh. She stirred, sighing, already exhausted from the thorough lovemaking sessions with Frank. He moved his palm up her belly to her breasts where he massaged each one, then flicked his hot, wet tongue over each nipple.

  “Oh, babe…”

  He sucked on her right nipple, drawing it into a hard bud. Damn him and how easily he could awaken her desire. So tired, and her pussy a little sore, she still couldn’t refuse Frank, didn’t want to refuse him. The only time she felt complete was when they were joined as one. And oh, how he made her feel, his cock stretching her as he thrust over and over…

  He let go and switched to her left nipple, then back to the right one, then again the left, this time sucking it in so hard and long that the pleasure-pain skewered to her core. She arched, wanting more, needing him to slide his cock into her.

  Settling his big, heavy body between her legs, she sighed again, spreading her thighs farther to give him easy access, then opened her eyes.

  Red ones stared back at her. His golden hair caught the illumination from the hurricane lamp in the corner, giving his head a halo effect. He grinned down at her, revealing long, sharp fangs.

  “You’re mine,” he whispered, his words slightly guttural, “and so is my Russian beauty. Both of you belong to me now, and you can’t do anything about it.”

  She clamped her legs together—or tried to—but with the incubus wedged between her thighs, all she could do was try to slide them under him and simultaneously attempt to wriggle away up the mattress. As she struggled, a scream formed low in her throat and rushed up and out of her mouth with such intensity it shocked her. She followed the scream with “Frank!”

  The bathroom door burst open and Frank, in only his briefs, rushed out.

  Bernadette beat on the incubus’ shoulders. “Get off me!”

  Frank leaped to the bed, reached for the incubus and fell on top of Bernadette. The covers collapsed, the weight suddenly gone from Bernadette’s body to be replaced by Frank’s bulk crossways over her belly. “Where the fuck did he go?” he shouted.

  Bernadette began sobbing, her heart flailing so hard she thought it might suddenly cease to beat.

  “I gotcha, baby,” Frank said and rolled to lie next to her. “I’m here. Did he hurt you?”

  “N-no, but he tried.” Even through her fear and sobbing, the reason Ezra had visited her came to her with clarity. “Oh no! Frank, he came to me…to draw strength, magic. He’s on his way…to take Daffodil from Phil. We have to warn them, bring them here.”

  Thumping on the door startled them both.

  “Frank?” Beastman called. “You okay in there?”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he hollered. “Go around the house and make sure no one else has had any trouble with those…those demon things!”

  “Aw, fuck,” Beastman grumbled through the door. “I was sleeping so good too. If I find any of those fucking things, I’ll rip their arms off and stuff them up their asses.”

  Bernadette snorted in amusement, her fear finally beginning to evaporate, but it left her slightly dizzy and drained.

  A softer rap followed. “Is Bernadette all right?” Luella asked.

  “I’m okay, Luella. Let me get dressed and I’ll be out.”

  “Okay, honey,” the she-wolf mumbled just loud enough they heard her. “I swear, you scared the living hell out of me with that scream.”

  “Can you call Phil?” Bernadette asked Frank. “Warn him?”

  “He’s been turning his cell off a lot lately,” he replied. With trembling fingers, he smoothed her hair out of her eyes. “I don’t blame him for wanting solitude with his mate-to-be, but it makes it difficult to reach him when I need my second-in-command.”

  * * *

  “Then we’ll have to drive over to his cabin,” Bernadette stated and sat up. “If we can get there before Ezra locates the cabin—if he hasn’t already done so—then Phil and Daffodil will have a chance at fighting him.”

  “You did cast the protection spell that Scary Mary gave you, right?”

  “Yes, but I think this brand”—she held out her wrist, the burn still glowing faintly—“negates the ward. The connection to me is direct, so he can bypass any protection spells I set.”

  “Fuck.” Frank rolled onto his back and threaded his fingers through the front of his hair. “How do we defeat something like this, babe?”

  “I don’t know.” She gathered clean panties, yoga pants, a long-sleeved black shirt with I write better than I talk stamped on the front of it in white lettering, a bra, and finally, her snow boots from the corner by the closet.

  “How can you not know?” he questioned, exasperated. “You’re the apprentice of a well-known witch for fuck’s sake!”

  “Hey!” She spun, naked, and faced him lying on the bed. “Mary has never handled anything like this before either. I’m winging it as I go along!”

  He threw his arms over his face and mumbled, “Great. That’s so comforting.”

  “Frank!”

  He sighed, the sound big and gusty. “I’m sorry, babe. Really. I’m just in unfamiliar, fucking-weird-as-hell territory.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and tugged her socks on. “That description fits all of us in this house.” She turned and swatted him on the thigh. “Hurry and dress. I want to be over to Phil’s place as soon as possible. The longer we discuss this, the worse the feeling they’re in danger is getting, and I’m so wired with power right now it’s scaring me.”

  “Right,” he said and jumped out of bed. “Be right behind you.”

  Downstairs, Bernadette found Luella and Beastman in the kitchen. She’d barely accepted a travel mug of coffee from Luella when Frank entered behind her, stuffing his arms into a heavy flannel shirt.

  “Everyone is okay, Boss,” Beastman announced, “although Tom was pissed as hell at me for waking him. He’s hungover—big-time.”

  “What happened?” Luella asked, her baby blues huge and worried.

  Patting her shoulder, Bernadette quickly explained, leaving the sexual details out of her story. “Found him wedged between my thighs, telling me Daffodil and I belong to him.”

  A growl emanated from Beastman. “We’ve got to vanquish this thing—things!”

  “Let me grab my sneakers,” Luella said. “Beastman, put on some clothes. We’re going with them to Phil’s. I don’t know what we’ll be able to do to help them, but at least we can try.”

  Tingling assailed his arm. Phil shifted in an attempt to push Daffodil off it so the blood could flow freely again, but he couldn’t seem to move it.

  Wood popped in the stove, rousing him further, and he managed to finally pull his arm from between Daffodil’s shoulders and the upper couch cushions. She murmured in her sleep. Slowly, so he wouldn’t disturb her, he scooted to the edge of the sofa—and froze.
The silhouette of a man’s figure loomed in the corner behind the woodstove. Three more outlines, these ones smaller and feminine, stood behind the first, bigger form.

  “Who’s there?” he whispered.

  “Now wouldn’t you like to know,” a smooth, male voice responded. Red eyes appeared, their intensity similar to the coals in the stove.

  “I know who you are.” A mix of fear and anger raced through Phil. “Ezra Smith.”

  “One of many of my names,” the silhouette replied.

  Standing, Phil kept himself between the dark forms and Daffodil. “You’re not welcome here.”

  Ezra said nothing. Neither did he step forward into the feeble light spilling through the doorway from the living room. The feminine shapes moved slightly, as though they were waiting for something. Snow beat against the panes and melted on the warm surface to slide down the glass.

  “Leave,” Phil ordered.

  “What’s wrong…?” Daffodil sat up behind Phil. “Phillip? What’s…?” She gasped.

  “Hello, my sweet,” Ezra said, still remaining in the shadows. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m not going back to the MC, Ezra,” she said with vehemence. “You can go ahead and kill me. I’ll never be used by you again.”

  “Ah, so sad that you say that,” Ezra replied, his voice calm, tone even. “But I’m afraid I’ve become addicted to your power. It fuels me so well.”

  “My power?”

  Phil frowned. What was Ezra—wait. He remembered what Daffodil had said about taking Bernadette’s hands. Could Daffodil have abilities too?

 

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