by Lynn Red
Something deeper, something... that was meant to be.
“I’ve never felt like you’re making me feel right now,” Lilah whispered, tangling her fingers in his wavy, brown hair. “You’re... oh!”
A kiss just above her navel made a trail of goosebumps crawl up Lilah’s chest and her nipples stiffened under Rex’s grasping, molten hot palms.
Wet, expectant heat crept out of Lilah’s core, dripping down her thighs. “I can’t wait anymore,” she whispered. “I need you so bad I can’t explain it.”
He didn’t go any faster, not one bit. Instead, Rex just looked up at her as he kissed down one leg to her knee, then back up to where they met. Smiling, he faked like he was going to wrap his lips around her sex, and Lilah started to shake.
Instead, he kissed the tuft of hair just above, then went down the other leg.
“You tease!” she shouted playfully. “You’re going to give me a heart attack!”
“What a way to go though, huh?” His laughter faded into a series of delicious, fluttering kisses.
Lilah grabbed for him, trying to drag him to her center, but he shrugged her off, chuckling. It seemed like forever before he finally gave in, letting those soft, warm kisses tease the edge of her softest skin. Down one side he went, then up the other. A trickle of hot, slow breath caressed Lilah’s sex, making her somehow want him even more.
“No more,” she groaned. “Please! I can’t take any more of this teasing!”
“Good things,” Rex whispered, giving her a gentle lick. “Come to those who wait.”
She just about died when he parted her with the tip of his tongue and swirled it against and then just barely inside, her. Lilah didn’t know what to do. She tried locking her ankles together, tried grabbing the sheets with her toes, tried grabbing Rex’s shoulders, but it felt so good she couldn’t concentrate on anything long enough to manage.
The patient laps got harder, deeper, and faster. He slid a finger inside, just past the first knuckle, and turned it in slow, patient rotations, curling it against that place he’d found last time he did this.
“God! Oh God, yes!” Lilah was almost grunting. Her breath came in quick, hitching bursts.
Rex opened his mouth wider, enveloping the top half of Lilah’s aching sex, running his tongue along her folds, between them, and pushing his finger ever deeper.
With his huge shoulders, Rex forced her legs to spread, and finally pinned them to the mattress on either side of him. She was so open, so wet and hot, that he put a second finger in beside the first, spreading her gently.
The flicks of his tongue, the deep, dragging of his fingertips was almost too much.
Lilah grabbed his shoulders, squeezing the sides of his huge neck as hard as she could. It was almost like she was holding on for an anchor to hold her to the earth in case she somehow exploded off the mattress and shot into space.
And as it happened, she wasn’t too far off.
The longer Rex went after her, the more the hair on her forearms and her stomach poked out of her pores. The more her fingernails curled, and the more deeply she felt every single move he made. Her ears were about a million times more sensitive, her nose picked up every single hint of a smell.
His sweat, the way his desire and her sex mixed in her nose, it all pounded against her chest until she just couldn’t take anymore. “You’re making me crazy!” she gasped. “You’re turning me into a raccoon!”
When Rex looked back at her, his eyes were absolutely burning with golden flames inside the brown. His teeth were starting to change, his hands were thicker and the muscles across his shoulders, his neck and his chest were swelling. But, he still had the same beautiful face she’d fallen in love with.
“You made me crazy a long time ago,” Rex growled. “I’m just getting you back for it.”
His fingers twirled, his tongue sang a chorus, and before Lilah knew what was happening, she felt herself start to soar.
The muscles between her legs tightened, and her stomach clenched. She grabbed two fistfuls of Rex’s hair and grinded his face against her clit. She bucked her hips as much as she could, grinding herself against his nose and just about squealing.
Rex sucked, he pushed, he licked, and then just when Lilah thought she was going to suffocate him between her thighs, she felt a push of heat escape her, and her entire body went rigid.
White stars danced in front of her eyes when she closed them, and when she took a deep breath, the intertwining smells made her teeter between a feeling of complete comfort and a cliff of pleasure she was dangerously ready to dive from into the ocean below.
“Don’t... stop...” she whined, pushing up against Rex’s face one last time.
He spread his fingers, dragged them along her front wall, right on that place she loved the most, and fluttered a kiss on her clit before circling it with his tongue.
As she started to convulse, he pushed his fingers as deep as he could, filling her up and wishing that instead of fingers, it was his cock inside her. He knew there would be plenty of time for that, but still, that didn’t stop the throbbing ache.
“I can’t... Rex! I can’t stop! I’m... I’m coming!”
“Look at me,” he said. “Open those perfect eyes. Let me see how good you feel.”
She tried – she really tried – but the best she could manage was to keep them half open as the breath escaped in a torrent of gasps and half-screams.
She bit her lip, writhed back and forth, but the waves of pleasure crashing into her chest and radiating out were too much.
“Rex!” Lilah cried out. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
The last word turned into a drawn out, helplessly pleasured hiss.
Every muscle in her body trembled and shook until they were too tired to keep going, and then a shuddering pulse of relaxation overwhelmed her.
“That’s it,” he urged. “God you’re so beautiful, I can hardly stand it.”
As the quake shaking her from the core began to dissipate, Lilah found that the sense of safety, was back.
She nestled down into Rex’s arms, warm and secure.
There was so much she wanted to do, so much she wanted to say. And then there was the trouble with her sister’s friends.
But for right then, there was nothing to be done, nothing she could do to help.
Rex’s slow, powerful heartbeat pounded against her back. She grabbed his hand and curled it underneath herself, then cupped his hand around her breast and purred when he squeezed gently.
“I never purr,” Lilah said, turning her head to the side, so that she faced the ceiling. If she strained her eyes she could turn them just enough to see the end of Rex’s nose. “You made me purr. I don’t think you understand what a big deal that is.”
Rex laughed in his deep, satisfying, warm way.
“You made me turn into half a bear, and all you were doing was making noise and squirming. I don’t think you understand how big of a deal that is!”
The two of them laughed for a second, just enjoying being together. Everything in that moment seemed right.
Lilah opened her mouth to say something else, but paused. Rex noticed, but he didn’t prod.
There was something magical about the silence, about being surrounded by nothing but the sound of breathing.
The curtains Rex threw open so he could see his beautiful Lilah fluttered gently as the ceiling fan turned, cooling the sweat on Rex’s skin. The flickering light from the yellow moon made Lilah’s glitter.
He kissed the back of her head and stroked her side gently, softly, slowly.
And then Rex heard the cutest, lightest snore he’d heard come out of anyone except his little Leena. He took a deep breath, letting Lilah’s scent fill his nose, and then he let it out with a sigh.
Reaching down, he grabbed the blanket that was balled up at the foot of the bed and pulled it over them. It had been a long time since Rex had felt this right with the world.
Too long, he thought, closing his ey
es and letting the smell of Lilah’s hair fill him again.
As he drifted off, his consciousness fading into a comfortable, fuzzy blur, the dreams that came were, for the first time in five years, peaceful.
They weren’t full of fire and fear and pain. They were full of happiness, of Leena, and... Lilah. The three of them, together.
It had been way, way too long.
-21-
Langston Graves
“One just isn’t enough,” Langston said to himself, gnawing on his lip. “Jeffress, here’s another address. Take me here. I need them both, and I need them tonight. I feel the power already swirling through me. I’m so close, so close...”
Langston vibrated from the Pomeranian power coursing through his veins. He didn’t know what he’d be, he had no idea what sort of form he’d take, but it hardly mattered. Anything would be better than his frail, aging, human body.
He turned his head and coughed, blotting the resultant blood with a handkerchief. “Jeffress? Why aren’t you doing what I’m telling you to do?”
“I am,” the automaton answered in its programmed monotone. “There is construc...tion.”
“Good, good,” Graves said, rubbing his hands together. Another coughing fit was about to hit, but there wouldn’t be much more of those, not after he had his power.
Staring out the window into the darkness, where only a yellow crescent broke the blanket of night, the professor squinted at his own reflection. “Why is this hitting me right now? I didn’t think I was going to need to drain them this quickly,” he said to himself.
He shook his head. It didn’t matter. As soon as he had the power, he could fix his lungs, fix his back, fix everything that had been falling apart since he found that damn djinn. That really was the turning point, he realized. He found Eldred, got greedy with a couple of demands, and then figured out that maybe trying to deal with an ancient spirit wasn’t the best idea.
No amount of Pawn Stars watching would ever get him ready to haggle with a genie.
He laughed, bitterly, at his reflection and dabbed another tiny blood spatter off his lips after a quickly squelched cough.
“As soon as I have her, I’ll drain them both and I’ll be unstoppable. With my knowledge? With everything I know? I’ll lock that damn spirit in that book, put that book in a lead cube and toss it into the middle of the ocean. Or... a volcano, or whatever it takes to kill him. I’ll be free, I’ll be—”
“That sou...nds like a good pla...n,” Jeffress offered. “Will you le...t me help?”
Langston furrowed his brow. Jeffress offering his opinion wasn’t exactly new, but it was still strange to comprehend he’d fashioned a living, conscious being out of wires, tubes, metal and part of an old Sony TV set he found on the side of the road. Every now and then he just had to sit back and feel pretty damn good about himself.
As he did just that, another coughing fit bubbled up, wracking his entire body. At first he held it back, but soon that proved impossible. He balled up the bloody handkerchief in his fist and held it to his lips, hacking and sputtering until it finally subsided.
“I don’t know,” he paused for an aftershock cough. “Not sure exactly what you could do, Jeffress. You’re not the most agile friend I’ve got. Maybe the best way for you to help is to get me to that girl. Eight-three-six Pine. Take a left here.”
Jeffress creaked slightly, turning the steering wheel slowly and heading down the quiet side road to the place where he’d take his last victim. This time there was no plan, he had no papers to riffle through and act like she’d cheated on an essay. There was no subtlety, no reason to bother. This girl, he’d just work his magic on and hope it came out the way he wanted.
She’d been so susceptible to his charms before that Langston had not a reason in the world to think he’d fail this time.
And besides, failure was off the table. There was no option but success. If he didn’t drain this one, and quickly, who knows how bad the next coughing fit would be? Who knows how long until one of them finally put him on the ground, finally stole what was left of his breath?
Not even a sorcerer can manage to defeat disease.
Not without some help, anyway.
Staring at his pale, almost pallid reflection, Langston had a moment of doubt. If he did manage to complete the ritual and harvest the happiness from these girls, what in the world would he do with it? Smiling at himself, he realized something very important.
“I don’t care,” he told himself. “I’ll do whatever I want.”
Jeffress looked into the rearview, watching him with eyes that should have been sightless. The instant before the pale professor shifted his gaze, Eldred turned Jeffress’s eyes back to the road.
“Here,” Langston said, breathing a bit heavier as he sat forward. Excitement crept into his voice. “Should I even bother trying to sweet talk this one? Or should I just go and get her?”
“The other one is wait...ing, sir,” Eldred said through Jeffress’s voice box. “You should...n’t keep her wait...ing.”
“Mmm,” Langston drawled, running his thumb along the scar on his jaw. “I would hate to be rude.”
The black, knit bag with the leather drawstring was heavier in Langston’s hand than he remembered. The last time he used this was on that bear. On the one who got away.
“No one’s getting away this time,” he said to himself as he leaned over and pulled a vial of ether and a wad of torn up rags out from underneath the seat. “No one’s getting away from me ever again.”
*
Langston’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the outdoors, but as soon as he whispered a few strange words, everything seemed to light up.
His eyes glowed white, and even though the spell he’d used gave him night vision, it also made everything shimmer and sparkle. There were no cars in the driveway, and only one room with a light on. The professor smiled to himself. This is going to be easier than I imagined.
With a glance back at Jeffress, Langston thought he saw the automaton’s head turn away. That was impossible of course, because there was no joint there, so he just dismissed it as a passing hallucination – a trick of his nerves, or maybe the magic he used.
As he drew nearer, the steady thump-thump of some sort of dance music met his ears. One girl home, and she’s listening to some brain-damaging dancehall stuff loud enough to make her deaf. This really can’t get any easier.
Sticking to the shadows, he sidled up to the brown brick and slid along it, carefully stepping over a stunted rosebush and a couple of posies. The blinds were drawn. “El reth,” he whispered. As the words dripped from his tongue, he flattened his hand against the glass and projected his vision a few inches inside.
The girl, Desdemona Jorgenson, was reclined on her bed and staring at her mobile phone. Frantically, she was tapping at the screen. “Goddamn peppermints!” she swore. “Why are there always only two?”
It would be impossible to waste time any more stupidly than this, Langston thought.
On top of her bookcase, which was exclusively full of framed pictures and electronic gadgets, and very few actual books, a small, orange cat dozed. A hyena with a pet cat, he thought. Of all the things...
“Oh of course, they want me to spend money to get more tries,” Desdemona said before throwing the phone down beside her on the mattress and blowing out a long, exasperated breath. “Go to hell!”
Rolling his eyes, Langston retracted his vision through the glass, back into his palm, and then back into his head. He continued his slow, patient creep all the way to the back of the house where he found a locked gate.
A quick word and a hooking gesture with his little finger undid the lock, and he was inside. With his magically enhanced vision, he could see every crack in the sidewalk, every protruding stick and root and bamboo shoot, and dodged all of them nimbly. As soon as he approached the French doors leading into the house, he hooked his finger again, said the same words... but there was no click.
&
nbsp; Magical warding? Impossible.
He tried the incantation again, this time angrily hooking his finger in the air harder than last time.
No tell-tale click.
Graves exhaled angrily, pursing his lips. Once again, he hooked his finger and frowned.
There he stood, gesticulating over and over, saying the same word again and again. Why isn’t this working? There’s no way my powers have leeched out that much in only a few hours. I can’t have used it all up. Whatever it is, I have to hurry. This vision isn’t going to last forever.
His bright eyes were beginning to fade. He knew he had to act quickly.
Taking a deep breath, he murmured his spell one last time and dramatically twisted his finger in the air.
Nothing.
Sweat beaded up on the back of Graves’s neck. Time was short, and if he was out here in the dark, bereft of any source of magic, he knew he’d be stuck. He said a short spell to stave off a coughing fit.
Why now? Why does this have to happen—
He put his hand out as he felt his knees weaken, and grabbed the locked door handle.
Only, when he grabbed it, the damn thing moved and the door swung wide open.
Looking back and forth, Graves puckered his lips, bit the bottom one, then straightened up and walked through the open door.
Silently, he crept through the pitch-dark house, and as soon as he reached the entrance to the hallway, and saw Desdemona’s light two doors down and to the right, he extinguished his magic.
He drew a long, relieved breath that braced him like a mouthful of mint gum. Re-energized, Langston crept toward the obnoxious music and the dim light. He paused briefly in front of Desdemona’s door, making sure his rags were soaked and the bag was ready.
For all the evil he’d committed, this was his first time breaking and entering. He found it oddly... satisfying.
Pulling his brown leather gloves as tight as he could, Langston Graves steeled himself to take a step into an abyss darker than any he’d ever managed before. Coercion was one thing. Trapping a soldier in a museum was another. But breaking into a house, and kidnapping a girl?
