by Joey W. Hill
When he finally moved up her body, her eyes were glazed, fangs fully visible, claws caught in rips in the sheets. But no matter how he’d prepared her, as he began to cover her with his body, he saw that old terror trying to pierce through. He had an answer for that.
With an effortless lift, he turned them so she straddled his body. He’d angled her so the head of his cock was lodged at her opening. Her gaze caught his and he gripped her hips, holding her fast.
“Feel me, sweetheart. All that desire is for you. I want to be deep inside you, too. Let me in.”
Her hands were on his biceps, clinging like she was at the edge of a cliff. Her jaw was quivering as if her nerves were making her teeth chatter, but he wasn’t having any of that.
“You’re a warrior of Athena,” he reminded her. “No man takes what you’re not willing to give. Are you willing to give me your body, Medusa?”
“Yes.” Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “But I also…I also want you to take it. I don’t know why, but…”
“It’s okay. I do. And those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. Wanting a lover to take is different from a man forcing himself on you. Come down here and kiss me. I’ll prove it.”
He drew her down to his chest to help her comply. As she did, he wound both arms around her, putting one hand on her buttock to guide himself into her, adjusting their bodies so he knew he had the angle he needed. When he started pushing her down on him, he took it slow. If her only experience with sex was that one terrible incident, years ago, she was going to be tight. And she was. The sensation was an excruciating pleasure that had him growling in her mouth. She answered with a similar noise, a whimpering plea he loved, part savage animal need, part womanly desire, all Medusa.
Her fang cut him, but that didn’t matter. He relished the pain, her loss of control. Lifting and lowering her, he let her feel the way of it, the pleasure that could build and build. She started working with him, her fingers clutching and releasing in the same rhythm on his shoulders and biceps.
But she’d wanted as much take as give, hadn’t she? He could handle that, and the time was now. As she was gasping, her body rising toward climax, he rolled and put himself on top of her. He saw the flash of fear amid desire, and he gripped her face to make her stare into his eyes.
“I’m not him, am I?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Say it.”
“You’re not him.” Tears trickled down her face and he thrust into her, not breaking the rhythm, making the emotional pain tangle with the physical pleasure to drive her higher, to break down more walls for him. He could be ruthless when he knew it was where they both needed to go. Her tears tore into him, but being cosseted and coaxed wasn’t what she needed now.
“Keep saying it,” he commanded.
“You’re not him…you’re not…him…” She was sobbing, but amid that response, something else was shoving forward, something that had her clawing at him. “Oh, Goddess…”
He lay down upon her fully, though holding his weight mostly on one arm. His other was wrapped around her back, hand still palming her ass to make his thrusts deeper and more potent. The position put his body in full contact with hers, from breast to knee, and allowed her to shift her grip around his back. When she pierced skin with her claws, she felt the shudder that ran through him.
Her vision cleared somewhat. “I’m sorry, I--”
“Don’t be. Mark me as yours, Medusa. Your Master. The one you can cut to the bone, and I’ll still protect you with every breath I’ve got.”
She stared at him, and then her fangs bared, the climax surging up and claiming her. Her cry vibrated through him, gripping his heart, soul and balls, calling forth his own release. As she tore into his back with her talons, a mindless response to the power of the climax he gave her, a savage, primal possessiveness grabbed him as well. She marked him without; he marked her within, jetting his seed into her.
Her body continued to convulse. She sobbed against his ear, called his name and begged for mercy she didn’t really want. He kept going until they were both spent, until she was shuddering in his arms, limp and quiet. He pressed kisses along her brow, her lips, and lifted his head enough to gaze into her lovely eyes once more. “I’ll never blindfold myself again,” he swore. “I’m not depriving myself of the sight of you.”
She was dazed at every level, he could tell. Pale and trembling still, she lifted her hand to his face, but flinched and stopped short of touching him. She had blood on the claws. He caught her wrist and cleaned it off with lips and tongue. Moving down to caress her palm with the same, he suckled on her wrist and gave her a gentle nip.
“No words,” he said quietly. “Just let me care for you.”
Her gaze said she thought he needed care, and he probably did, but right now he wanted it to be all about her. Lifting her off the bed, he carried her back to the patio and looked up the fifteen feet to her nest. He wished he could carry her there, but he didn’t think either of them were up to that exertion yet. So he sat down on a patio chair, because she seemed to enjoy that view the best of all places in her home. For a while he held her cradled in his arms like a babe, murmuring to her, rubbing her as she quivered and occasionally let out a small sob.
Sometimes she lifted her head to look at him and meet his eyes. It was so new to her, to be able to do that without fear. She was transitioning from avoidance to craving it, confirming for herself she had the ability and the right to do it. He’d had subs he’d made do the lowering of eyes thing, a submissive protocol they needed. He’d never require it of her. Being able to look in her face, and have her look back at him, had such meaning and importance, he’d never take that away from either of them.
Though he needed to clean up, he didn’t feel comfortable enough with her emotional state to leave her for even a few minutes. So he carried her to the large waterfall area and placed her on the bank before wading into the pool to rinse his back. It was deep enough he could dunk his head underneath by dropping to his knees, so he did.
When he surfaced, she was in the water behind him. Her hands slid down his back, around the scratches. She pressed her lips against one, and everything inside him broke open. When she used her own palms and ribbons of her hair to clean away the rest of the blood around the now coagulated wounds, he was moved in a way he couldn’t explain. She kissed each gash and looped her arms around his waist, standing that way until he turned in her arm span and cradled her face. Full darkness had fallen, so he used moonlight and shadows to find her lips once more for a lingering, no need to move ever again, kind of kiss.
He’d worried about idealizing her, yet today she’d told him what he was sure were the worst things about herself. She was as fragile, fallible and sometimes ugly as anyone else, including himself. It was impossible to love an ideal. But a real woman…that was someone he could love forever. He had the reality in his arms, and would let the myth go without regret.
Lifting his head, he stared her in the eyes and said what he was now more certain than ever was the truth, as miraculous and unlikely as it should have been. “I love you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What exactly is this for?” JP looked down at the rope Medusa was tying around him in a harness, and thought of how pleasant she’d look in the same rig, for entirely different reasons.
She stood on her tiptoes to adjust it over his shoulders. With a grin, he put his hands to her waist and lifted her to make it easier for her to do what she was wanting to do.
“I do have wings for that,” she said primly, though her cheeks tinged with color at his touch. She’d been doing that ever since they’d made love, as if his merest contact made her think of embarrassing things he’d love to be in her mind to see. Though if he was, they might be back in the bed in a blink.
He’d woken her earlier this morning by teasing her with the friction of his five o’clock shadow. Holding her loosely pinned against the mattress, he aroused her once more an
d slid into her body, taking them both to an easy morning climax. He’d given her sweet, simple pleasure, proving to her that intimacy could be enjoyed in a wide variety of mindsets. Laughter and curiosity could be as much a part of it as shattering one’s hold on reality and giving them a glimpse of eternity. Like last night.
At least that’s the way he’d felt about it. She hadn’t said she loved him back, but he wasn’t expecting her to do that. He’d probably jumped the gun, saying it to her, and was lucky she hadn’t either decked him or taken off as a result of the impulse share.
She’d been quiet this morning. Respecting that she had a lot to digest, he’d kept things light. During breakfast, she’d told him about the view from the top pinnacle of the island, all the surrounding lands she could see. He’d asked her if there was a way to hike there. There wasn’t. She was going to fly him there.
“I’m too heavy,” he told her again. “Carrying me up here from the base of the cliff was a much shorter trip.”
“I can carry you longer and farther, with the help of the rope. Can you do a harness like I just did on you?”
She blinked at him with guileless crimson eyes. She was going to kill him. Rope bondage wasn’t his main focus, but he’d played with it enough to enjoy the art form.
“Sure.” He picked up another length of rope, measuring out about eight meters. She was a smart girl, always salvaging things like rope from the boats. She knew how to maintain them, for what he was handling was sound and well-conditioned.
He modified and combined a Shibari breast harness design with his rope climbing skills and came up with a pleasing solution that would frame her breasts and provide carrying support. He paid close attention to her reaction as he ran the rope around her upper torso. When he cinched it a little tighter beneath her breasts than he ultimately intended to leave it, he suppressed a pleased reverence at the flush climbing higher in her cheeks. Her hand resting on his forearm clenched in a sexually anxious curl. Bending, he put his lips to her shoulder. As she tipped her head, giving him more access, he twisted his fingers in the rope, which constricted the hold around her breasts. She let out a little gasp.
“I can do a lot of things with this you might like,” he murmured, brushing her ear with his mouth. “Keep that in mind.”
“Um, you mean…tying my hands and feet?” She was struggling to maintain her boundaries and protect herself, for pretty obvious reasons. He wanted her to not worry about those reasons, but he knew that was going to take time.
“Sometimes. But sometimes it can be just like this. Your arms and legs free, but your torso bound, similar to how you let yourself be held in my arms.” He did a knot and ran the remaining rope between her legs, catching it up in back and cinching it between her buttocks in a quick jerk that had an outright moan breaking from between her lips as the knot rubbed against her clit.
“Goddess. You’re a sorcerer. You must stop….just stop.”
It was the faint note of alarm that told him he was pushing it. He’d told himself to take it slow. Not to act like a drug addict who’d just gotten his first taste in months. But it felt like that.
Letting the rope drop free, he ran his hands up and down her arms in a soothing way before finishing the harness in a purely practical manner. He did stroke her face, neck and shoulders when he was done, meeting her gaze once more. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just a little worked up after last night. I could steep myself in you for days without leaving that bed.”
Her cheeks went a deeper rose color, telling him her thoughts weren’t too far off from his. But she made a commendable and amusing attempt to get back onto their practical topic.
“I’m going to attach us to one another so if for any reason I lose my grip, you will not fall.”
He drew the knife she’d returned to him last night. “I’ll have this to cut myself free so I don’t drag you down with me.”
She put her hand over his. “No. You won’t do that.”
“It’s good to prepare for any contingencies,” he reminded her. “If I don’t take the knife, we don’t go.”
“Then we don’t go. For isn’t that what love is supposed to be?” she questioned. “Being in things together?”
“Dragging one another down into oblivion and death?”
“If necessary. Better than living alone afterward with the idea that you didn’t do everything to protect your love.”
“But what if you did?”
“Not possible,” she said. “If one did, the other wouldn’t be dead.”
“I don’t think that’s always the case.”
“You would feel that way if it were you,” she pointed out. “You’re just a protective male who thinks you must give your life to protect me, regardless of how futile the scenario. What if I tumbled off a cliff when you were not around? Would you dash yourself on the rocks?”
“Women,” he grumbled. “Want to be so damn pragmatic when we’re trying to be noble and self-sacrificing.”
She smiled and stepped out on the ledge, looking up. “It’s a ten-minute flight,” she said. “The harness and these metal hooks you have to connect us will make it easier. We will be fine, regardless. I have greater upper body strength than most human women.”
“Even though you have bird bones,” he pointed out. “I want you to eat more.”
She shrugged. “I am rarely hungry.”
“For anything?” He bumped her with his hip and leaned down, stopping just short of her mouth. Her gaze riveted on his. “Because I’m finding myself pretty damn hungry all the time right now,” he said. “We’ll have to eat soon.”
“We just ate breakfast an hour ago,” she said, though how she delicately touched her tongue to her lips said his meaning wasn’t lost on her. She was just feeling shy about things, too shy to tease. Another warning for him to ease back.
Brushing his mouth against her cheek and lips, he straightened. “All right, then. Let’s go see the best view on the island, according to you. From my viewpoint, it looks like it’s standing right in front of me.”
She shook her head at him, but gave him a little smile. Pulling a short stool up behind him, she stepped onto it and used the position to secure his harness to hers with the screw lock carabiner clips he’d showed her how to use. Though she’d mostly figured out a tandem jump rig all by herself. Based on that and the other things he’d seen her invent to care for herself, he thought she was a pretty good common sense engineer, with more than the usual mechanical skills for someone untrained.
She thought problems through, unhampered by anyone telling her she didn’t know enough to try something. Courage and intelligence filled in where training wasn’t available. Like her harrowing story of trying out her wings until she could get them to work. She didn’t seem to have an Achilles’ heel when it came to figuring things out.
He wondered if they had that Achilles’ heel saying yet. After all, it had taken about five years past Happy Days for “jump the shark” to catch on as the catch phrase for a TV show that was about to be cancelled.
They could spend a lifetime catching up on common cultural references. Not to mention all the other things they could talk about or do together. They never had to leave here.
A twinge in his gut told him the problem with that theory, but he wasn’t going to get into that now. She was speaking to him.
“Ready?” she asked.
He pulled her down for a warm kiss, holding her as it deepened. Her hand curled into his shoulder. He was wearing a T-shirt today so the ropes wouldn’t chafe, but he liked the heat of her touch through it. He could still feel the gouges she’d left on his back, and he relished their discomfort. They’d been pretty good slashes, like he’d been attacked by a bird of prey, which wasn’t too far from the truth.
Some might say he had a masochistic side, but he knew better. He loved carrying the evidence of the pleasure he’d given her. They framed the Medusa’s Heart tattoo in a pretty significant way he liked a lot.
He�
�d have scars from her front and back, each set a permanent reminder of a very critical step in their relationship.
“Okay. Ready.” He pulled back to let them both breathe, glad to see he’d accelerated the pulse in her slim neck. “And if I get too heavy, promise you’ll touch down. There’s some interim places you can break on the way to the top, right? I might be able to climb from those spots, if you need me to do so.”
“I promise. I have no desire to plummet either of us to our deaths today.”
“Good. Because I’d hate to pick a day where you were in that kind of mood.”
That little feminine chuckle shook her, followed by a ripple through her body as her wings spread and she prepared herself for the leap. They’d already talked about the best way to do it, but he wondered if she’d really expected him to have the balls to do it the most effective way.
Which was running forward with her piggy backing, and taking a horizontal leap off the ledge without hesitation. Just like a bird would do it, his arms spread out to help balance her.
She might not have expected him to do it so decisively and swiftly, no hesitation, but jumping out of a plane with a chute wasn’t a drag-your-feet kind of thing, either. As a result, the takeoff went better than probably either of them anticipated. There was a brief jerk as she had to summon more strength from her wings to accommodate his added weight, but then they were gliding, her leveling out before she maneuvered into a turn and began spiraling up toward the top peak. Her command of flying skills impressed him, and not just because he didn’t end up dashed on the rocks below.
He’d initially suggested climbing to the top of another nearby peak, like the one he’d used to test his ladder theory, where less of a vertical lift would be needed. She’d assured him she could do this, no problem.
Now that the decision was made, the best way he could help her was by flowing with her energy. It was a pretty amazing spectacle, the island spread out beneath them, her lifting him from above, her body pressed against the back of his. He saw the goats, the sparkle of the sun on the numerous streams that etched out the hills and valleys of the island. Far out on the water, a boat was passing between other land masses, its sails tiny triangles that blended and reappeared against the watery background.
