by Nina Bangs
He stared at Mistral, heard his words, but they meant nothing. Ganymede had something more immediate to worry about—the demon compulsion his lousy creator had given all his troublemaker children to make certain they lived up to his expectations. It was the relentless urge to create chaos. For some troublemakers it might not be a big deal—knock down a few barns, goad people into doing stupid things—but Ganymede was different. He was one of the most powerful, and when he lost himself to the compulsion, bad things happened.
During the past month, he had enjoyed his world tour dealing out destruction, but he’d been in complete control. The compulsion was a whole other level of bad. Once he gave in—and it was almost impossible to resist—he was lost to reason, to everything that even came close to rational thought.
He didn’t know what had triggered it this time, maybe too much stress, too much frustration with plans gone wrong. But one thing he did know, he had to get as far away from the house as possible before he lost it. How far was far enough, though? When Ganymede created chaos, it came with a capital C. So that meant to save everyone in the pink house and probably the world as he knew it, Ganymede had to open a portal and find another planet. No, another universe.
He clenched his fists, tried to push back against the rising demon, and got ready to run. Sweat beaded his forehead. His heart pounded out the beginning of panic. The most frightening thing about the compulsion? Loss of control. This was an enemy he couldn’t fight, couldn’t face on his own terms. It scared the shit out of him.
He’d go out back and tear an opening to the least populated planet he could get to on short notice. Funny how he’d changed. Before Sparkle he would’ve laughed and let it rip. Sparkle. Right. This attack of conscience was all her fault. Didn’t matter. Now he had people he cared about. Not a good thing to have if you were a troublemaker.
Ganymede’s thoughts raced. Was there anything he hadn’t tried, any way to stop it? Had Sparkle ever knocked him out during an episode? He shook his head. His memory was growing fuzzy. Even if she had, it might not work a second time. The compulsion was powerful enough to shake off a little tap on the head.
It was slowly erasing him from the inside out. Soon nothing would remain except the driving need to tear down and stomp on the world until only dust remained.
Turning, Ganymede stumbled toward the back door. He ran on instinct now. Get outside. Then go far away until the pink house with Sparkle in it was only a dot on a distant plane of existence.
Someone touched his arm. “Get out of my way.” Ganymede’s voice sounded more animal than human to him. He kept focused on the back door. No time to talk.
“I can help. Let’s go up to my room.”
The grip on his arm tightened. He would blast whoever the hell this was into the Gulf if they didn’t let go. Ganymede blinked and tried to concentrate, but the eraser had smeared his mental text. Finally, he connected the voice to a face. Sparkle. He almost smiled. Going to her room would be great. There was a reason why he couldn’t go, though. He pressed his palms against his temples to hold his fast-fading thoughts inside. “Can’t.”
The person, no, Sparkle tugged him toward the stairs. He allowed her because…it was Sparkle. He stumbled up the stairs even as he fought a losing battle in his mind. It would be so easy to just give in, allow the eraser to do its job, sink into the nothing while his power raged free. Tired of fighting it.
Then he was lying on her bed. He knew it was hers because it held her scent—sex, sin, and all the things that made his life worth living. He reached to massage his forehead, as though that would slow down the coming apocalypse.
She sat beside him. When she pushed his fingers away and took over the massaging, he allowed it.
“We’re going away now, Mede. Concentrate. Think of a world with no one, a place too barren to support life, a planet so many light years away from here that astronomers don’t know it exists. Open a door to it, and we’ll walk through.” She leaned down until her lips brushed his ear. “We can be alone there, Mede. We’ll fight it together.”
“The compulsion.” He breathed deeply, trying to reclaim a bit of himself. “Damn maker.”
“I know, I know.” She smoothed her fingers along his tensed jaw. “It takes all of us. There’s no shame in giving in. But we have to leave. Make it happen.”
He heard the urgency in her voice. Right. Had to go. Ganymede tried to focus past the pressure to create havoc, the shriek from his personal demon to kill everyone, to bring their puny buildings, their sad attempts to create civilization down around them.
“I remember…” What did he remember? It was so hard to think. “A small planet. Perfect.” Before he could lose the memory, he raised his arm, concentrating past the throbbing in his head that said resistance was useless. His power flared, a searing path of unstoppable force he channeled into his fingertips and then willed the portal into existence.
This wasn’t the round glowing opening to another world he was used to. This was a ragged tear in reality, barely wide enough to crawl through. Sparkle dragged him from the bed and then helped him squirm through the opening. Once past the rip, she urged him to close it. He barely got it shut before the compulsion hit. It felt as though the empty space inside him had filled with dragon fire. It roared toward his head, threatening to incinerate him if he didn’t free it.
Grinding his teeth together, he stood against the wave of unbearable heat and beat it back. Still standing. Sort of. He slumped to the ground and dragged her with him. Ganymede knew it would come again, harder, a gut-deep agony only obliteration of everything around him would relieve.
“Do you remember this place, Mede?”
“What?” He barely remembered his name.
“We made love here once.”
She stroked his hand, her touch demanding he pay attention to her, to their shared memories. Sorry, sweetheart, but that won’t work this time. He tried, though. Glancing around, he recognized where they were—the mountain slope overlooking a vast valley of meadows, forests, and one large river winding through it all. Wrong world. Not the barren wasteland he’d aimed for. But her touch must’ve hijacked his focus and sent them here.
Ganymede breathed hard, trying to deny the destructive force. He attempted a mental block, a white wall where no thoughts, no power could reach him. Didn’t matter. The inferno crackled and burned inside him, turning his wall to ash.
Sparkle leaned over to wrap her arms around him. She pulled him close as she spoke. “Look at me.”
He closed his eyes. No, no, no. He couldn’t stop it.
She slapped him. Hard. Whoa! That hurt. He opened his eyes to find her lips an inch away from his.
“I can make it go away, Mede.” She traced his lower lip with the tip of her finger. “Let me.”
Sparkle had never turned her power loose on him. To be honest, she’d never had to. He wondered if their maker had given troublemakers stronger sex drives than humans, because you’d think after so many centuries his need for her would’ve faded. His choices: lose himself to his creator’s compulsion or Sparkle’s sexual power. It wasn’t even a contest.
He reached out to brush a few strands of hair from her face. His hand shook. Ganymede hated even that small proof of how far his control had slipped. “Let’s stick it to the bastard.”
She leaned forward, but before she could touch him, he stood and then moved a few feet away.
Ganymede didn’t look at her as he quickly stripped then turned to face her.
For just a moment, she was back on that ancient beach seeing him for the first time, all smooth golden skin over hard muscle. He still took her breath away.
“Your turn.” He gestured at her clothes.
Well, that sure was romantic. Sparkle sighed. Okay, not like the first time. But then she saw his eyes—flat, revealing nothing—and she understood. Mede hated losing control, whether it was to his maker or to her. She was now only a means to an end. At least that’s what he was trying to make hims
elf believe. He might count on her erotic power to overwhelm their creator’s compulsion, but he didn’t like it. And once this was over, he’d never let her forget it.
Even as she watched him, his eyes began to glow. That amber fire burning behind his eyes wasn’t sexual need. She had about thirty seconds to make her decision before the compulsion blasted him again. And this time he might not have the strength to resist it.
Her power was a sure thing. Not even Mede could stand against it. Or… There was the old fashioned way. She took a deep breath and decided to gamble on their future.
Sparkle shed her clothes as she walked toward him. But just as everything she did served her art, this was no exception.
She pulled off her dress and bra. Sparkle played the tease as she waved them in front of her—just call her the matador of sexual chaos—before dropping them. Yes, admire my breasts. Imagine your lips and tongue on them, driving me mad with want. Imagine me pressing your cock between my breasts.
She stepped out of her heels before slipping off sexy red panties. Sparkle left them behind her. She loosened her hips, allowed them to beckon to him with their sway. Yes, notice my legs. Picture them wrapped around you. Watch my hips. Picture them lifting to meet your thrusts.
She’d reached him. Sparkle met his gaze. His eyes still blazed amber, but now the glow had nothing to do with the compulsion and everything to do with sensual heat and need. She threw back her head and laughed—remembering to lower her lids and send him a smoldering glance. You can still bring it, girl.
Mede made a harsh sound deep in his throat before pulling her to him. He held her close, murmuring words guaranteed to make her forget her puny plans to seduce the compulsion out of him and go straight to mindless passion.
“The compulsion is knocking on my door. Love me hard and fast so I can slam the door in its face.”
His voice was the same one that had lived in her heart for so many centuries, but now there was a challenge attached to it. She wasn’t used to doing hard and fast. Sparkle was more a slow and sensual kind of woman. But she could adapt.
Game on. Sparkle pulled his head down so she could whisper in his ear. “There is no compulsion, only me.” Then she nipped his earlobe before licking a path down his neck until she reached the spot in the hollow of his throat where his pulse pounded strong and urgent.
Without warning, the ground shook. All she got out was a startled squeak before the land on one side of her disappeared. Oh. My. God. She glanced to her left and saw nothing but a sheer drop for hundreds of feet.
“It’s too strong.” He dropped to the grass, dragging her with him. “Pull out all the stops. Now.”
Sparkle couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger: terror or sexual excitement. She shoved aside the terror. She’d existed for tens of thousands of years. A little landslide wasn’t going to end her.
She stopped any more demands by leaning over him so she could cover his mouth with hers. His lips were firm, warm, and oh, she’d missed him so much. His scent rekindled all the memories they’d forged over the centuries, and even the bad times had turned to good memories as long as he was with her.
He opened his mouth and she reacquainted herself with the heat and taste of him—power along with the burning the compulsion brought.
The compulsion. She couldn’t forget about it. Sparkle broke the kiss then slid her hands the length of him, recalling the feel of all that smooth skin beneath her fingers.
Before she could reach between his legs to cup him, he grabbed her wrist and stared at her from fever-bright eyes. “Too slow. It’s close, too close.”
As if on cue, there was a rumble and the earth on the other side of them disappeared. Sparkle didn’t have to look to know it was a long way down. All that open space spurred her on. She abandoned her touchy-feely tour and used her mouth. She was very good with all things oral.
She kissed a path over his chest and then nipped one tempting male nipple before swirling her tongue around it. He gasped his appreciation and clasped the back of her head, steering her toward the other nipple.
Her heart pounded and the heaviness low in her stomach made her want to simply climb on top of him and ride him into the sunset. But before passion could make her completely crazy, something occurred to her. “Wait. You’re not doing anything. Hey, I have needs too.”
He looked at her from eyes glazed with pleasure. “What? Oh. I can’t. I’m putting all my energy into holding back the compulsion.”
At the word compulsion, the earth just beyond their feet dropped away. Sparkle almost shrieked her fear. Was the damn word “compulsion” some kind of trigger?
“Hurry.” His whisper was filled with heat and hunger.
Fine. She could do “hurry.” She shortened her tour of his awesome body. No leisurely side trips to his inner thighs where she’d nibble her way up and up and… Sparkle took a deep breath. Hurry.
She walked her fingertips over his stomach, not stopping until she reached… “Oh, yesss.” It came out on a breathless sigh. At this point, her body didn’t give a flip about the compulsion. She reached out to grasp him.
He arched his back, pushing against her hand. “Finish it now.”
Mede’s hair lifted in an imaginary breeze, the ends flaming with a fire that didn’t consume. But Sparkle had no doubt if she touched one of those ends, she’d burn. She didn’t have to touch his hair, though, because she was ready to self-combust if she didn’t release the metal-melting heat she’d built up over the month he’d been gone.
He wanted her to finish? She’d give him a closing act he’d never forget. Sparkle knelt then straddled him. She hovered over him for just a moment. An expert in all things sensual always built the anticipation to a fever pitch.
In that moment, another explosion almost deafened her. She thought she heard Mede mutter, “Oops,” but she must’ve been mistaken. The ground shook, and startled, she slammed down on top of him.
This time the explosion was all inside her. She gasped at the same time Mede shouted his pleasure. The fullness, the tightness, the sensation of him completely filling her brought tears to her eyes. All those weeks away from him, she’d been so afraid she’d never feel this again.
She rode him, her rhythm keeping pace with his urgent thrusts. Sparkle wasn’t the queen of sex for nothing. She used muscles other women didn’t even know they had to drive Mede to the brink, and then…
The moment. That instant when every muscle in her body clenched around him and froze. Centuries passed. Kingdoms rose and fell. And the moment hung there with her breathless in its clutches.
Finally, the world moved around her again and she fell—slowly, deliciously, savoring the spasms that grew weaker and weaker.
When it was over, she lay sprawled on top of him, feeling his heart pounding, his breaths coming in harsh rasps. She smiled. God, she loved her job.
“We might want to get out of here.” The smolder still lingered in his voice.
Carefully, she rolled off him then looked around. Uh-oh. They lay on a tiny island of land surrounded by…nothing. Far below them, the planet’s life went on uninterrupted. But on their little pinnacle, things felt shaky. “Could this collapse?”
“It might.”
To add emphasis to his words, the ground beneath her swayed. “Take us out of here, Mede.” Frantically, she glanced around. No clothes. They’d fallen with the rest of the land.
He grinned up at her. “Guess we’ll have to go back naked and hope no one’s waiting in your room.”
She refused to think about the possibility. Thank heaven they hadn’t gone out to the back yard to open a portal. “Do it.” The earth swayed some more. “Right now.”
He rose in one smooth motion, managing not to step off the edge into nothingness. When he opened the portal, it was the real thing this time, not one made from near madness and desperation. Mede helped her up, and they stepped back into her bedroom.
She didn’t say anything as she quickly dressed, th
en left him sitting on her bed while she went to his room to get him some clothes. Once back, she watched him draw his jeans over his strong legs and muscular thighs. Amazing thighs. She’d forgotten some of the small pleasures of seeing him do ordinary things each day.
Sparkle sat on the nearest chair, crossed her legs and studied her nails. All intact, no tears, no chips. Life was good. “You know, on the way to your room, I remembered you said ‘Oops’ after that last landslide. Now why would you say that, hmm?”
He shrugged but wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Guess we’d better get downstairs.”
“In a minute.” She tapped one finger on the arm of the chair. “Was the compulsion causing the earth to fall…or was it you?”
The smile he offered her was his guilty grin. “You weren’t going fast enough.”
“So you had the compulsion under control by then?” She kept her expression calm, but payback would be a bitch. Mede didn’t react well to shouting, and she didn’t want him to storm out on her.
He shrugged. “You make everything else disappear, Sparkle. You always have.”
“Then why the need to go so fast?” Don’t yell, don’t yell.
His smile was meant to drag her kicking and screaming out of her bad mood. “We hadn’t made love in over a month. I was a little impatient. You remember I was never a patient person.”
“I can’t believe you put me through that—” Words deserted her. She stood and then paced. “Deceitful. Low. Sneaky-no-good—”
“Sort of like you promising to use your power and then not doing it? That could’ve backfired badly, Sparkle.”
That shut her up. She thought about denying everything, but decided against it. “How did you know?”
“You’ve forgotten that I’ve seen you use your power. It’s a lot more dramatic than what you did today.”
Sparkle offered him a pouty expression she knew showcased her lips. After all, the queen of sex and sin never missed a chance to express her sensual nature. “What? You found me lacking in some way?”
He put up his hand to ward off her phantom blow. “I didn’t say that. You’re never lacking.”
