HeroRising

by Anna Alexander

  The only thing marring this perfect moment was the cursed condom preventing him from bathing in her wetness. A man had invented these torture devices? Hopefully whoever the sod was had met a grisly end.

  Ach, never mind. It was a necessary evil, and if he had to choose between no contact with Ari or sex while wearing raingear, give him the fucking coat.

  The kiss of her wet pussy lips brushing his pelvis made the cum roll in his balls, the hold on his control weakening with every jerk of her hips.

  Too soon. Too soon. This perfect moment was going to be over before either of them was ready.

  Reaching for the headboard, he ground his teeth so firmly, he’d be shocked if he had any left by the end of the night. If anything, he had to hold out until Ari reached her peak first. Gods grant him the strength.

  He stared up at the ceiling and shifted his focus to the texture of the drywall and not on the press of her hands on his chest as she rode him in a steady rhythm. Jesu, he needed a distraction immediately. Mayhap he could count the number of stars he had passed on his journey to Earth. There had been, what, trillions of them? Ah, he knew! A listing of the names of every Skandavian monarch and their offspring. Please let the endless roll call temper his desire enough to hold on.

  With every name that passed through his mind, the urge to come relented and the pressure in his cock eased until only a pleasant fullness remained and he was able to release an easy breath. Now to concentrate on Ari’s pleasure.

  A glance at Ari’s face and stiff posture made him sit up in alarm.

  “What is wrong?”

  She shrugged and her gaze fell to his chest. Her folded arms tightened more across her breasts and he sensed her lust had all but disappeared. “You tell me.”

  His throat tightened as if he could taste the burn of her unshed tears, and that telltale flush stained her cheeks. She was embarrassed. Why? “I do not understand.”

  “Look, I knew you weren’t a talker, but a sound of some kind would be nice. Am I boring you?”

  “Are you insane?” he yelled before he could temper his incredulity. “You have me a hairsbreadth from losing all control and I’m doing all that I can to stop it. If you were any sexier, I wouldn’t survive.”

  Her eyebrows rose, revealing her doubt of his statement and he wanted to shout at the heavens with frustration.

  How could she be so unaware of her effect on him? The fact she hadn’t a clue crushed him as surely as if she had slapped him. Again he cursed her humanness, for if she had his powers of empathy, she’d never question how she twisted him into knots with a single glance.

  Damn. Damn it all. He sighed and held her against his chest. The blame was entirely on him. Here he had been determined to not make old mistakes and he was doing just that, relying on old habits to convey his feelings. He had to learn some new tricks. Fast.

  “How I can please you?” he whispered in her ear and felt the first flickering of hope when goose bumps erupted across her skin.

  “I like it when you touch me,” she said in a small voice.

  “Like this?” Starting at her neck, he ran his hand along her shoulder, down to her breast and cupped the full mound.

  “That’s nice,” she sighed and pressed forward, forcing her breast against his palm. Around his shaft her sheath softened and grew damp again, allowing his cock to sink deeper. She released a moan. “That’s really nice.”

  Emboldened by her sighs, he cupped her other breast and plucked lightly at her nipples with each pull stronger than the one before, testing the limits of how much of his strength she could handle.

  “You like this?” He twisted the tips harder and was rewarded with a throaty growl. “What else do you like?”

  “I—oh—your mouth. I like your mouth on me.”

  “Ya?” He pressed a line of kisses across her sternum, tickling her skin with flicks of his tongue until he reached a dusky peak and sucked it deep into his mouth with a firm draw.

  Her fingers dove into his hair, holding his mouth to her breast as her hips rolled, stroking his shaft with shallow thrusts. Oh ya, his woman loved his tongue on her flesh, and his teeth too. He smiled when she squealed in delight at his bite.

  “What else do you like?”

  “I like how you feel inside me,” she panted.

  “I like that too.”

  “You do?”

  “Ah, Ari. It’s taking all my strength not to hold you down and ravish you.”

  “But I want to be ravished.” She pulled his hair. “Don’t be gentle. Take me. Take me hard.”

  “You don’t know what you ask.”

  “I do.” She squeezed her inner muscles as she rose and fell on his shaft. “I want you. All of you.”

  Dare he?

  “Please, Bale. I need you,” she cried then bit into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt a slight barrier against her teeth.

  “Ari,” he moaned. How could he not do as she wished when she pleaded so prettily?

  He reclined onto the mattress and held her hips still as he lunged up, again and again, experimenting with the force.

  “Yes. More.” The ends of her hair tickled his hands as her head tipped back. “Harder. Yes. Harder.”

  Using her gasps and cries as a barometer, he soon had them racing at a punishing pace with her bouncing on his cock and the need to come tightening in his belly.

  “No,” he barked when she palmed her breasts. The sight of her bobbing mounds as she took each thrust fascinated him to no end. “Leave them be.”

  “Ah, so that’s how it is.” Her laughter sizzled across his skin. “That’s it, Bale. Fuck me harder. Make my tits bounce.”

  The vulgar choice of words shocked him even as his cock jerked in agreement and surged within her soaking sheath. The ripple of muscles stroked him as firmly as a tight fist and her answering moans were a hammer on his preconceived notions. To have her revel in his possession, wanting more and not being afraid to ask for it spoke to his need to claim her and his hips responded in kind.

  He was close, so close. And Ari was too. Her orgasm twined around both of them in a razor-sharp thread that hurt with a pleasure-pain that brought tears to his eyes. The mist of ecstasy bathed his face, the abyss was so close.

  She balled the front of his shirt in her fists as she hung on for the ride. Her fingernails clawed at his chest, scoring his nipples in another bite of pleasure. Over her cries he heard the tear of cotton as she tore the seams.

  “Bale,” she sobbed, caught in the throes of near completion, her frustration mounting with each lunge. “Please.”

  “I have you.”

  He slipped his hand between their bodies and found the wet, swollen nub of her clitoris. A few hard circles pushed her over the edge.

  Her eyes rolled back as she screamed and her pussy clamped down, milking the seed from his loins. Her orgasm reached out to punch him in the chest and turn him inside out. His release shot up his cock like sweet fire, flooding the inside of the condom in spurts and obliterating the barricade he had built to keep out the bombardment of emotions from the world around him.

  Elation, fear, both hers and his, wrapped as sharply as barbed wire around his chest, climbing up his arms and neck to paralyze him with the intensity.

  Too much. This was all too much. Feeling. Experiencing emotions with all the subtly of a sonic boom. Colors, sounds, textures so crystal clear his mind burned under the onslaught.

  “Bale?”

  Too much. Too much. To handle.

  “Bale?”

  The world pulled him in, sucking him in like a tree branch through a wood chipper and spitting him out the other side in a million tiny pieces.

  “Bale!”

  Air’s terrified shout made his eyes fly open as he gasped as if surfacing from the ocean. She sat beside him with strands of red hair clinging to her wet cheeks. Her blue eyes glimmered with her tears.

  “Ari?” he croaked.

  “Bale. What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
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  “Need. I need. A minute.”

  A newborn foal attempting to stand had more grace then he did as he slid from the bed and beat tracks to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him so hard, the walls rattled.

  Knees buckling, he crashed to the floor, the cool press of tile on his hot cheeks woke him up enough to feel the sensation of Ari’s fear and humiliation rolling across his skin.

  “I’m sorry, Ari,” he moaned. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

  It’s all me.

  Chapter Seven

  Well. That was a first.

  Ari wrapped her arms across her chest and clenched her teeth to stop the chatter caused by the sudden drop of adrenaline. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought she was on drugs by the way tracers floated in her vision and her mind splintered into several directions of what the hell happened? Come to think of it, what the hell did happen?

  Once Bale had relaxed, he had taken her on a journey beyond her wildest imagination. For several glorious minutes she had been deep in the grip of one of those out-of-body experiences she had only read about in books. Even now the walls of her pussy fluttered, hungry for more of his possession, and there was no mistaking, Bale had possessed her. She might have been on top riding him like a mechanical bull at her former place of employment, but he had her completely under his command with the weight of his hands on her hips and the fire in his gaze as he had watched her breasts bounce.

  And now he was shut in the bathroom, sounding like a wounded animal as he moaned an apology. What exactly was he apologizing for? The amazing orgasm?

  Or maybe he felt bad for scaring the ever-lovin’ crap out of her when he fell into convulsions after he erupted inside her with the force of Mt. Vesuvius.

  She climbed off the bed and pulled a nightgown and a sweater over her trembling body. Geez Louise. Could this night get any stranger?

  The man all but disappeared for almost a week with nothing but a tight-lipped nod in passing then, wham! At the first opportunity she’s spreading her legs and begging him to plow her. Classy.

  But she liked him. She really, really liked him. And the way he had been about to put the smackdown on that creep? Oh, wicked awesome. He reminded her of the Punisher or Wolverine, all badass and sexy. What hot-blooded woman wouldn’t want a taste of that? She was human, after all.

  Apparently Bale had more in common with those superheroes than rippling muscles and attitude. The man had issues. Major ones.

  She glanced back at the bathroom door. At least the moaning had stopped. Whether or not that was a good sign remained to be seen.

  Sooner or later, he was going to open that door. Then what? Did she want to know what set him off? Would he even tell her? The man was a statue when it came to talking about…well, anything.

  And if he did? Was she ready to deal with his personal demons? It was early in their relationship. She still had the power to walk away. All she had to do was say thanks for the orgasm and send him on home. Potential craziness averted.

  With another glance at the door, she shook her head. Who was she kidding? There was no way she could leave him now.

  There had been a moment when she had looked into his eyes and seen forever. Not the live-happily-ever-after kind of forever, but a kindred spirit. The yearning for more than a quick lay and the discovery of finding “the one”. For a second she had thought she had seen into Bale’s soul, and it was lonely and hungry for affection.

  Of course, that might have been the hormones talking, but she never experienced that type of magic. It was addictive, frightening and wonderful all at once. When Bale had asked her to come with him to the city, she had taken a leap of faith and received more than she thought possible. She owed it to herself, to them, to take another leap. If she didn’t try, she knew she’d think about it for the rest of her life.

  She went into the kitchen and popped a pod into the coffeemaker. Who cared if it was after midnight? It was either caffeine or whisky and the caffeine was probably the better choice to face the next few minutes.

  After the last drop of dark brew fell into the mug, she settled onto a barstool and faced the bathroom with the warm ceramic cradled to her chest. A few sips in and the door opened.

  A weight filled her chest when she saw the stamp of shame carved into his features. His bangs hung in wet strands over his eyes and the front of his shirt was damp, as if he had splashed water on his face. So much tension rioted inside him she swore she felt him vibrating to the point of breakage. Part of her wanted to run and throw her arms around him and hold him close, while the other half feared whatever, if any, words he’d say next.

  “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

  Her fingers tightened around the mug. “Truthfully, I don’t know what’s going on right now.”

  He wiped his hand down his face then stared at the floor for several long moments, and again the urge to offer him comfort made the muscles in her arms twitch. Self-preservation and prudence kept her butt in the seat. At some point in time, Bale was going to have to open up and give her a glimpse at his thoughts. If he couldn’t do that now, she might as well kiss her fantasies goodbye and show him the door.

  Another two minutes passed and just when she thought she’d have to kick him to the curb, he lifted his tortured gaze, which struck her like an arrow through the heart.

  “I—” He grimaced and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know exactly what to say right now. I don’t…share. Ever. But you deserve… You deserve more.”

  Ari pinched her lips together and didn’t dare lower her gaze as he began to pace in the tiny space of the living room. It was as if she were deep in the jungle observing a panther. One tiny peep and she might scare him off.

  “I told you that I am sensitive to people. What we just experienced was…intense. Overwhelming. Spectacular, but overwhelming, and I couldn’t handle the rush. I’m sorry. You—you were, are, wonderful. And that’s—that’s why I’m fucked.”

  The stop-start of his sentences made her heart climb into her throat, as if she were watching a scary movie and the hero was in danger. How she wished she could just fast forward to the end and find the ease that came with knowing everything turned out all right.

  “Ari, I have done…things,” he continued in that stilted tone that made her ready to scream. “There is a darkness inside me. And you are so passionate, so fucking brilliant. You make me want.”

  She made him want…what?

  “What do I make you want?” she asked, daring to interrupt.

  “That is all. You make me want.”

  “Is wanting so bad?”

  “Yes, when I’m afraid my darkness will snuff out all of your light. You deserve so much better than me.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that? From what I’ve seen of you so far, I think you’re pretty great.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Even if I’m ready to maim any man who looks to be harboring an illicit thought about you?”

  “That,” she sighed, “you may need some help with.”

  He chuffed. “The terrible thing is, I can’t really blame them when I have the same thoughts myself. Even more so. I’m just as vile as they are.”

  Now why did the idea of Bale having dirty thoughts about her make her skin tingle instead of feeling repulsed? “Like what?”

  He shook his head. “I cannot tell you. I do not want to shock you more than I already have.”

  Fool. Didn’t he know his refusal to tell her made her want to know all the more? “How do you know I’ll be shocked?”

  “I just do. Ari, allow me to apologize and let it alone.”

  “Stop, just stop.” There was only so much teeth-pulling she was willing to do. She set her mug down and marched up to him. Clasping his cheeks between her palms, she forced him to look at her. “Stop trying to shelter me. I’m a big girl, if you haven’t noticed. I like you, Bale, but I want to be with the real you. Not the version of you you think I want to be with. So w
hat is this all about, really? Are you trying to tell me you have a kink? Most everyone does.

  “My last boyfriend always wanted me to wear schoolgirl uniforms during sex, which is disturbing on so many levels now that I know what his real job is, but that’s not the point. My point is I like being with you and want to do it again, without you holding yourself back from me. That’s not fair to either of us. The least I can say is no. Unless it involves knives and/or small children. To that I’ll say no right now.”

  “Is that so?” The light in his eyes and his deep drawl sent shivers down her spine that weren’t anything close to fear. “What if I told you that whenever I look at your lips, I imagine how they’d look stretched around my cock?”

  Oh yeah. Now they were getting somewhere. “Are you speaking truth or hypothetically?”

  “One of the most honest things I have ever said out loud.”

  “Then I say that whenever I look at your hands, I want them all over my body. Pinching, twisting, filling me until I scream and beg for you to take me hard with that big cock you want me to suck. I want you to hold me down and take me so hard, I can’t walk the next day. What do you say to that?”

  A shudder shook his big shoulders as his nostrils flared. “Do you mean that?”

  “You’re the one who’s supposed to be sensitive to other’s emotions. You tell me.”

  His eyelids fell to half-mast and he reached out a hand, cupping her cheek. “Ari.”

  That was all he needed to say to have her in his arms, her mouth meeting his in a kiss so hot, she swore it singed the ends of her hair. Those big hands of his gripped the fabric of her nightgown at her hips and pulled, dragging her into the curve of his body.

  “Wait. I like this nightgown.” She broke away and swept the garment and sweater over her head then reached for the hem of his shirt. “But I’m not going to be the only one naked this time.”

  He gripped her wrists. “Don’t. I have scars.”

  The note of distress in his voice was unmistakable, and with it he stole another piece of her heart.