by TJ Michaels
Faison encouraged Dee to hop up on the low table. The enclosed space was perfect—a glass and steel barrier rode the top of a solid white brick wall. When standing, the occupants could be seen from the chest up by the people romping on the street below and the volleyball pits on the beach across the road. When sitting on the low table, Dee was the perfect height for ravishing in plain sight without actually being seen. To passers-by she just looked like a woman sitting on the deck enjoying the weather.
Careful to keep Dee’s robe closed at the top, Faison eased one arm around her waist and held her close while keeping just enough distance between them to slip his fingers inside to tease the underside of a soft, plump breast.
It weighed perfectly in his hand, warm and soft with a nipple that responded eagerly. Faison plucked it. She sucked in a breath then quickly bit her lip instead of letting out the moan that he wanted to hear. This time he gently twisted the blackberry bud and the moan escaped.
“Do you like that, Dee?”
“Gods, yes.”
“Can I suck them, beautiful?”
“Oh yes. Absolutely.” Her eyes remained closed as he maneuvered her where he wanted. “Now, hold your robe around my head.”
As he grabbed a chair and lowered himself into it, Dee followed his directions without hesitation. Faison dove in for the kill and practically inhaled the woman’s flesh.
Her skin was like brown sugar and cream, sweet and smooth like a frothy drink or after-dinner dessert. And the more he tasted, the more his crystal settled as if it too was getting its fill.
Faison kissed down her belly and relished the flutters there as he passed over the skin. He continued to tease and play with her sensitive nipples as he nipped her ribs simply because he couldn’t resist doing so. Couldn’t keep from touching her everywhere he could reach.
Face to face with her bellybutton now, his mouth actually watered.
Taste. “Reach down and spread those pretty lips for me. Let me see that pretty pussy, Dee.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I-I don’t know you. I’m not sure I even like you.”
“Believe me, it’s not something I’ve ever done this quickly, not even with the arm candy I used to run around with, not even by the fourth or fifth date. But with you…” He dipped his head and against the groomed mound that was so enticing he whispered, “I need it.”
And gods, if her strangled yelp was any indication as he dipped his tongue into her juicy folds, so did she.
“Gods, it’s so good.” Her hips couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop seeking, searching. Craving. Her skin tightened with anticipation of what he would do next.
His mouth explored, lapped and ate at her weeping pussy. The lips were so swollen with need they actually ached in cadence with her pulse. Dee felt empty, wanton. If she didn’t come soon her bones would simply melt away. “Faison, please. Please.”
He raised his eyes, released the gentle suction on her clit to flit his tongue along the drenched slit of her pussy. The action sent her already-overly warm temperature soaring. Faison paused his exploration just long enough to ask a question. “What do you want? Ask for it.”
“I, I need…”
His tongue tapped at the underside of her clit. She bit her tongue even as her hips canted forward, seeking, hunting. When he raised his head from her soaked flesh, Dee wanted to scream in frustration.
“Ask, baby. Ask for what you want.”
No hesitation this time.
“To come. Please. I need to come so bad.”
Faison dove back into the center of her pussy, doing what Dee lovingly called “the swirly thing” as he circled the little bundle of nerves with his tongue, then dipped down underneath it before circling again, all while delivering just the slightest bit of suction. Her cunt was on fire.
“Oh yes, yes. More,” Dee ground out.
“More what? Ask,” was all he would say.
“Inside me. Now.”
Two fingers plunged in and up into the slick tightening channel of her cunt. Her eager pussy needed the invasion, the stretch, the slide of flesh against the muscles deep inside. Had anything ever felt so good? She doubted it.
Dee gasped, then bit her lip, tasted blood, knowing that if she released the scream building in her gut the folks playing on the beach across the street would know what was really going on up on this balcony. It was hard to give a flying fuck as the orgasm from on high slammed through her body and threatened to take her to the other side with its intensity.
She’s presence blazed inside Dee’s skull. The entity craved fulfillment, but that was something a human male could not provide. It was a crystal thing, a nature thing…an elemental thing. She’s hunger combined with her own meant that coming didn’t do a single thing to ease the greedy pulse of her pussy. More. All she could think of was more.
“Faison, more. Please. Fuck me.”
“As much as I want to bury my cock inside this sweet pussy of yours and fuck you silly, this time is for you. Only for you, Dee.”
With that, Faison rose to his feet, closed her robe and swept her off the table and into his arms. With quick strides he took her from the balcony into the den. Setting her on her feet in front of a fluffy looking loveseat, he took a single step back.
“Take off your robe, Dee and hand it to me.”
“Bossy, eh?”
“Have a problem with that?”
Hell no, she didn’t have a problem with that. In fact it turned her on like a sun lamp.
She let the wide sleeves slide down her arms and was surprised at the dancing of the little hairs on her skin as the fabric moved over her flesh and down to her wrists.
Faison held out his hand for it. She gave it over. He promptly buried his face in it.
“God, you smell so good. This robe smells just like your pussy. Fragrant. Sweet. Overflowing with honey.”
It was amazing how much it turned her on to watch him inhale deeply, eyes closed and his face covered with an expression of pure bliss. And she made him feel like this. Amazing.
His lids snapped open and he regarded her with a gaze so hungry Dee felt her kneecaps tremble. Holy shit.
“Sit on the couch. Spread your legs.”
Why? She’d already had an orgasm. What she really wanted was to get her hands on the thick ridge of cock pressing against his jeans. God, she wanted to take him in her mouth, taste him, suck him, revel in the scent of his skin just as he’d inhaled the fabric of her robe.
“Let me touch you, Faison. Please.”
“I said, not this time.”
“But I came already.”
“And you’ll come again. And again. Until the shape of my lips is imprinted on that delicious pussy of yours.”
An hour later a smug Faison was ushered to the front door by a noodle-kneed and blushing Dee as she gave him her word that she would think about attending the concert. He’d made it clear that he considered her his now. No one-night, er, one-day stands. No other women for him. He intended to pursue Dee until he caught her.
No man had ever told Dee that.
She watched him drive away from that same spot on the balcony where he’d first made her come. She smiled as she caught the whiff of sex waft up from between her legs. Time to head back inside for another shower. The moment she stepped toward the doors that led back into house, Dee slammed to a halt. She cringed as the most malevolent, disgusting feeling slinked over her skin, leaving a slimy, almost slug-like trail slithering through her mind. Absently rubbing her arms and sucking wind she found herself wondering why she was breathing so hard. Why the hell was her heart racing like she’d just taken a run on the beach. And she felt so…nasty.
“What the hell was that?”
Seconds later, her phone rang. She’d asked the question, but was afraid she already knew the answer.
Without bothering to check the caller ID, Dee picked up the phone and said, “Hey Mem, and yes I felt it too. What the hell…?”
�
�Head right to your room and launch a WebEx. We need to talk. All of us. That sensation you had, I sensed it too. That’s why I called. It’s the same feeling I had right before I met Marco. Only Marco wasn’t the reason for it.”
Dee knew this story all too well. And gods knew she wished it were nothing but a harmless fairy tale.
Asmodeus was on the prowl.
* * * * *
Well, lookee here. A water elemental.
Asmodeus almost laughed out loud at his good fortune. So, did the human male who’d sucked De’alla Isaacs to a blistering orgasm on her balcony have any idea who or what she was? Doubted it. There’d been no indication of anything more than a single bout of passing sex. And what a perfectly delicious sight De’alla had made, all flushed and trembling from the tongue-lashing she’d received. Asmodeus had been hard-pressed to remain at a distance and watch the Chosen, his Chosen, throw her head back and hold in a scream that surely would have sent the local gulls scrambling for flight.
Good thing his sexy little water worker had shooed the human out of her house shortly after, because if the male proved to be an obstacle Asmodeus would plow through him in a heartbeat. In fact, to get to De’alla, he would singe the Chosen’s pet male to a crisp without breaking stride.
Any elemental was a rare prize, but a water elemental was especially coveted. And this one carried a piece of the Hearts of Fire on top of all that? Hell, Asmodeus had hit the mother lode. Yee-fuckin’-haw!
And now, tonight, on a deserted stretch of beach tucked into a small bit of a cove, the Chosen worked out with her ability. She practiced pulling water from the very air around her, forming small marbles of water with ease. Then she erected a thin wall of water a short distance away and used the water marbles to punch holes in it. The energy and concentration it took to work with the elements was considerable. It also spoke of someone directly descended from the Ancients.
Most he’d run across were distantly related, had little to no skill with manipulating nature and were selected because of their destiny even if they’d had no Atlantean blood whatsoever. But this elemental was more than Chosen. She was an Atlantean, no matter how far removed. That would explain the entity he’d sensed around her, all Atlanteans had a protector, a guide that carried the essence of nature itself, so to speak.
And she was strong, this one. But Asmodeus sensed an inherent weakness, a weakness that could only be shored up by her joining with her true mate—that was something he’d learned in his last encounter with a Chosen. He wondered if De’alla had met him yet. And if so had she sprung the news of her destiny on the poor sap? Did he believe her or think she was crazy? Crazy would definitely serve Asmodeus’ purposes better.
Hmmm, could that singer guy who’d feasted between her legs be De’alla Isaacs’ mate? She hadn’t acted like it. And there’d certainly been no output of blistering crystal power when the man had gone down on her like there’d been when Dee’s sister had made love to her mate.
Asmodeus’ temper spiked. “Shit, why don’t I know more about this Chosen business?” He’d been alive for as long as time was time yet those fucking Atlanteans had managed to keep these damn sisters a secret for thousands of years. The Hearts of Fire, oh he knew about that all right. That’s what had set him on this journey in the first place. It was the one thing that contained enough life energy to give him a flesh and blood body that held the power of a demon. Yet the details of getting his hands on that little jewel had eluded him until a mere three hundred years ago. Unfortunately for an immortal time had no relevance…and that three centuries had been spent looking for eight human females who hadn’t been born until barely forty years ago, goddammit.
And Asmodeus didn’t even want to think about the fact that the eight women he thought he needed turned out to be four women and their destined mates.
His encounter with Dee’s sister, Memory, hadn’t gone the way he’d planned. Actually he hadn’t truly planned anything, just figured the woman was a human he could walk in and simply overpower. It had been more than a surprise to encounter such raw power when he’d attempted to relieve Memory of her crystal. Then her fucking mate came to help her and the two of them together had been more than he expected. He still didn’t consider any Chosen to be more powerful than himself, but this time he would at least do a bit of surveillance.
Just then, De’alla sat down in the sand and lifted her head to the sky. Suddenly all was entirely too quiet. It was already still due to the fact that it was three in the morning and nobody was around, but this was an uncommon still. Suddenly the sky opened directly over De’alla and her body was covered completely by a singular deluge. The roar of the water was as loud as crashing waves in the midst of a storm.
Her body should have been smashed, torn to pieces by the force of the water. Instead, De’alla opened a small “door” in the middle of her personal waterfall and walked out of it, leaving it to rip up the sand in her wake. Then she just left. Walked away.
With a twinkle in her eye that even Asmodeus could see in this light with this failing human body, De’alla gave a flick of her wrist and the waterfall plummeted to the sand and rolled back out into the Sound with the next retreating wave.
“Impressive.”
After that, all that was left was the faint crunch, crunch, crunch of her tennis shoes as she left the beach and headed toward home across the street.
Yes, he would have to move soon. Even with this display of power he’d be strong enough to take her in another night or two. Then the Piece of Eight would be his, along with De’alla Isaacs. After all, what kind of demon would he be if he didn’t have a bit of sport with her before he took her essence into himself?
A razor-sharp maw blinked into view then disappeared again beneath the illusion of sparkling white perfectly straight teeth as Asmodeus considered all the ways he would make this little water baby beg. Beg to be fucked. Beg to come. Then beg to die.
Oh yes.
Chapter Three
God, what was she doing here? It was a stupid question but one she had to ask herself anyway. Dee had sworn that after the skin-scorching, wild, raunchy orgasm Faison had laid on her on her balcony two weeks ago that she would steer clear of him. He was simply too much stimulation for her poor brain and body to handle.
But then he’d shown up several times at her office with a bouquet of long stemmed yellow roses at one visit, her favorite Swiss chocolates at another visit, then a gift basket of incense and candles with her ticket to his concert attached to one of the packets. And each time with gifts so thoughtful—and her crystal hot against her skin like a running man with his hair on fire—she couldn’t say no to his lunch invitations. Only problem was she’d been spending those lunch hours as his personal Creamsicle rather than finding out if he possessed a Piece of Eight that matched hers.
Faison sent her world spinning all out of control. Possible mate or not, no man should have the ability to get her naked so fast—or semi-naked as the case often seemed to be—and practically squealing for him to fuck her. Each time he’d only say, “When I fuck you, woman, it’ll be in a bed while I take my time. It won’t be a lunchtime quickie, Dee.” Then he would proceed to kiss, touch and eat her pussy until she damn near passed out. Thank gods for private offices. Whew!
Each time he came around facing this man was akin to walking into a classroom with a piece of toilet paper stuck to your shoe with half your skirt accidentally tucked into the back of your pantyhose. Can we say mortified at being such a loose hussy, boys and girls?
Sigh. What a jumbled mess her mind seemed to be these days. Was Faison a temporary distraction or the true mate of a Chosen? Perhaps she should stay away from him at least until she was sure what he was to her.
Yet here she sat in the VIP section of a special venue erected for the man’s first stateside concert while She told her how many different kinds of idiot she was being for doubting what was so obvious to her protector.
Dee looked around at the section she loun
ged in. It was an ingenious setup. The stagehands had built a stage underneath a huge tented amphitheater right on the sand. All around the inside was a replica of paradise, their own little blue lagoon complete with vines, potted plants and little fountains all over the place. It was nice that the guests were all seated at round tables rather than in the informal stadium type seats that were usually had at these kinds of things.
The night was warm and humid. The tangy scent of the Sound comforted her. The faint swish of the water breaking gently on the sand caused the strangest melancholy, as if she missed a family, friends and a whole ‘nother life beneath the depths.
Without thought Dee called the water in the air to her. Her own personal fog, invisible to the naked eye, floated on the warm summer breeze toward her. She enjoyed the moist touch against her skin, relaxed as it soaked into the pores only on the areas of bare skin, becoming one with her while leaving her clothes dry. This was the reason that lotion was never on her shopping list though her skin remained dewy and soft. Hmmm. Dewy. Soft. The words reminded her of Faison’s kisses, or rather how his kisses left her feeling. Even after coming harder than she could ever remember from that last noontime tongue job she’d remained ridiculously turned-on, hot, bothered and horny. And all from a kiss or three?
Mid-thought the lights went out and plunged the venue into darkness. Glowing blue fixtures illuminated the edges of the stage and cast shadows on the musicians playing skillfully on their instruments. Fog and mist wound its way across the venue in puffy billows like clouds playing along the floor as the lights slowly came back up along with the seducing sounds of strings and saxophone. De’alla recognized this melody. It was one of her favorites from Faison’s newest CD. It had stayed on the Top Ten for weeks in Japan before it was released here where it currently rode the list at number three. It was a medium tempo love song about a man looking for the perfect woman and hoping she would accept an imperfect man.
