He sat up, pushed her back, and without breaking contact—without slowing their thrusts—suddenly she was flat on her back and he was surging between her thighs, working over her, sweat shining on his forehead as he pumped into her.
“Lois,” he husked.
“Oh, God.”
“Poor Lois, you will have to take me for some time. I am far from release.”
She screamed as she came again, then locked her legs around his hips and thrust back at him. She was throbbing, and even though she’d come twice, she wanted more, had to have more. “Oh, God, Damon, that’s so good. You’re so big and it’s so good.”
“Because of you, Lois.” He bent, kissed her softly, and when his fingers closed over her nipple and he pinched her lightly, she came again. “Only because of you.”
She lost count of her orgasms. Everything was his cock and her cunt and their thrusts, his hands and mouth, the way he whispered in her ear and the smell of their sweat, their heat. Finally she was clawing at his back and begging him to come, almost sobbing, and then his eyes rolled back and he thrust once more, hard, and then he was spurting into her.
He collapsed beside her, breathing hard, and they lay like that for quite a while. Then he pulled back, kissed her softly, and cleaned her. Thoroughly. With his tongue.
She thought she was done, she thought it was impossible to have another orgasm, to wring another drop of pleasure from their time together, but when his tongue licked her out and swept over her clit, she thrust her hips toward his face and moaned at the ceiling.
He sighed and came up to her, and cuddled her into his arms. “Oh, my Lois. I love that sound you make.”
“And I love your fucking tongue.” She kissed the hollow of his throat and breathed in his clean sweat. “God, Damon, you’re really something.”
“I am something,” he said, stroking the curve of her hip and arranging the covers over them. “I am your mate.”
She was too tired to protest and immediately dropped off into sleep.
Chapter 9
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she informed the king at lunch the next day. “I haven’t decided yet if I’m staying.”
The king frowned and opened his mouth.
“And don’t give me any shit about it, either. Damon and I have come to an agreement, and I don’t need you messing it up.” The sternness of her statement was ruined when she pressed her palm to the king’s forehead, checking for fever. “Are you sure you should be out of bed? You just got over being sick, then you had the Bridefight thing all morning yesterday—”
“I am well, Lois, do not fret.”
But clearly he enjoyed her fretting. This guy really needs a new wife, she thought, feeling a stab of sympathy. She knew, too well, what it was like to be lonely.
“Did you and our son spend a comfortable night?” he went on innocently.
“Knock it off; you’re about as subtle as a brick through a window.”
“Then all that yowling we heard was merely—”
“Do not finish that sentence if you don’t want my milk in your lap. If this is milk.” It was milk colored, but thicker, and sweet—it tasted like a cross between coconuts and chocolate. She was on her fourth glass. Damn, the food here was fine!
Damon strolled in on all fours, in puma form. After giving her the fuck of a lifetime (again), he had bounded out of bed and left on a hunt with his brothers. Lois had briefly considered getting up, then sanity returned and she had gone back to sleep for five hours. “Morning,” she said to him.
“Good morn, Lois. You are well rested and well fed?”
“Yes to both. Your dad’s been getting on my nerves, though.”
“I merely asked—”
“Don’t try to defend yourself, Sekal,” she snapped.
“Indeed,” Damon said, shifting in a blink from puma to man. He thrust his arms into the robe Zeka was holding for him. “You do not wish to brave my Lois’s wrath, my good father.”
“No, indeed not,” the king said with an admirably straight face. “What is this we hear about staying a day?”
Damon helped himself to a piece of bread from her plate. “She has decided to stay for the day. Tonight she will decide if she will stay for another day. We will ‘play it by ear.’”
“I see.”
“And if you don’t like it, too damned bad,” she said smugly. Sure, it was a sop to her pride, but that was all she cared about. Shit, for years, her pride was all she had. And the fact that Damon knew it, and respected it, had scored about a million points with her. “How ’bout that?”
“Hmph.”
“Which reminds me,” she said, staring at Damon’s legs when he sat across from her, “I’ll stay one more day.”
“One more night, at the very least,” Damon said, smirking.
Ooooh, if he wasn’t so good in bed…
Before she could give him a piece of her mind, a commotion at the archway at the far end of the hall caught his attention. “Ah!” the king said. “Our visitors have come at last!”
“What’s up?” she asked Damon.
“We have been awaiting these visitors from the far side of the SandLands. They wished to come for the Bridefight, but were too late, as you can see. We will clothe them and house them, and perhaps some will stay, and some will leave.”
“Oh. Well, that’s nice of you.”
“Visitors are treasured, as you have observed. And we have heard that at least two of these visitors came to our world as you did, Lois. Such people are always interesting.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. They tell the best stories. About auto-mobiles and gro-cery stores and the In-ter-net.”
“And their Survivor game,” the king added, rubbing his hands together, “with all the folk on an island and whoever stays last gets treasure.”
“Yeah, American culture at its finest.” Lois rolled her eyes, but stood to get a better look. There were a dozen of them, five men and seven women. They were wearing hooded robes the color of the sky. As they approached, they bowed deeply.
“Do not,” the king said mildly. “You have come far and are weary. Rest here as long as you wish.”
“Thank you, my good king. I am Themaya, and these are my companions. We regret our tardiness.” As one, they all threw their hoods back.
Lois shot to her feet so fast, she knocked the table over. The one on the end—almost as tall as she, with that same dark curly hair, only hers was streaked with silver, and—and—
“Mom?”
Gladys Commoner stared up at her. “Lois? Oh my God, Lois, is it really you, baby?”
“But you’re—”
Gladys simply stared, then held out her arms. Lois scrambled over the wreck of lunch and jumped down from the dais. In a moment she was in her mother’s embrace. “Mom, I can’t believe you’re here, how can you be here?”
Gladys laughed, though tears were trickling slowly down her cheeks. “Honey, I don’t have a clue. One minute I was driving to see your aunt, and the next I was in this weird desert with a purple sky, and Themaya and his band found me, and we’ve been traveling ever since. I’ve been here for ages and ages.”
I thought it was suicides, but it must be anybody who’s dreadfully unhappy. Unhappy at the exact right moment and the exact right time. Whatever it is, it’s a fucking miracle.
“Mom, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it. Oh, Mom, I missed you so much. When you—when you went away, everything went bad for me. Everything.”
“Ah-hem.” Lois and Gladys looked up. The king was looking down at them, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze was direct, but very friendly. He was staring at Gladys. “Are we to understand that this good lady is your dam? That Lois gets her good blood from this lady?”
“Uh—yeah, I guess. Mom, this is King Sekal. And this is my—well, my husband, I guess, Prince Damon. Damon, Sekal, this is my mom, Gladys Commoner.”
“We are pleased,” the king said, stepping down to gre
et her. “We are most pleased.”
Her mother was staring at the king in a very unmomlike way. “I’m—it’s nice to meet you, King Sekal.”
“I am pleased, also, to meet my dam-by-mating.” Damon bowed to her. “Your daughter is enchanting.”
“Flatterer,” Lois mumbled. Her head was still spinning. Day three, and the hits just keep on coming.
“And will you be staying long in our land?” the king was asking. He had taken Gladys’s hand a few seconds ago, but hadn’t let go yet. He was staring at her raptly. It was weird, yet adorable.
“I’d sure like to stay with my daughter, if that’s all right, King Se—”
“Just Sekal, good lady.” They stared at each other with identical goofy smiles on their faces.
Lois turned to Damon. “Okay, so, I’ll stay the week. But no promises after that.”
“No, no promises.”
“Just the week is guaranteed, nothing else.”
“No, nothing else.”
“All right, then.”
“I do love you, my Lois.”
“I do love you, too, Damon. For the week, anyway.”
They grinned at each other.
MATING SEASON
Prologue
She took her oath, and trembled with excitement and pride as she recited the sacred words. Her back was straight, heels together, chest out, the tip of her middle finger barely touching the outer edge of her right eyebrow.
It was too good to be true; it was a sweet dream from which she would rudely awaken. But for now, oh for now, she would enjoy it, and look to the future.
God help any man who woke her up.
Chapter 1
“Ah, but sweet and most helpful daughter of my heart—”
“Don’t start that stuff again,” the daughter of his heart warned him.
“Lois, surely you can tell me something.”
The newest princess of the realm looked up from cleaning her Beretta and glared at the king. “Sekal, get it through your gigantic, thick head. I’m not helping you lay my mom, okay? I’m not giving you any sort of hint that’s gonna help you hustle her into bed. I mean, you’re a great guy and all but…yech. This is my mom, okay? Just…work it out on your own, okay?”
“But Lois…”
“La la la bah bah bah hmmm hmmm I’m not listening…la la…”
“Very well.” The king stood up and started to stomp out in a huff. At the last moment he turned and said, “She will be mine,” and then he was gone.
Lois rested her head on the tabletop. “Oh my God, I am so creeped out right now…”
“What is it, dear one?”
She perked up as Damon entered the room. “Your dad, Damon. He’s driving me most sincerely crazy. He’s got the hots for my mom, how weird is that?”
“Not especially…weird. Your dam is very attractive for a woman of her advanced years.”
“Not as advanced as you think; my dad knocked her up when she was fifteen.”
“He struck his mate?” Damon looked horrified.
“No, no, it’s slang for pregnant. She got pregnant with me when she was still a kid herself. But jeez, they’ve only been here…what? A month?”
“Your mother and her companions? One moonround, yes.”
“And he’s, like, all over her. It’s weird.”
“My mother was one much like yours, I think.”
Lois had put her handgun back together and was now getting organized, but she looked up at that. “What? Your mom was from Jersey?”
“No, but she was not from our world. She just appeared one day, much like you did.”
“And your dad met her and fell hard for her and that’s why he’s been alone so long,” she mused aloud. “He’s been waiting for someone closer to his own age, someone who comes from where we came from…hmm. That’s very interesting, Damon.”
“I know many interesting things,” he said solemnly.
“Did she ever want to go back? Your mom?”
“No, I believe she was happy here. Although she did miss some things, as you miss the Dairy Queen.”
“Don’t say it. I’ve been dreaming of Dilly Bars. You guys need way more dairy products over here. Though I’m not sure a Blizzard would qualify…”
“My mother talked and talked about the Hitchcock when I was a child,” Damon said. “Do you know the Hitchcock?”
“I’ve heard of him,” Lois replied carefully. Ah-ha! Maltese! Her brother-in-law’s funny name suddenly made sense. Damon was lucky he wasn’t named Marnie. “Did she ever say how she came here?”
“Just that she was dreadfully unhappy where she was, and that her prayers were answered.”
“Oh. I wonder what happens,” she mused, “if someone here is unhappy. Do their prayers get answered? Anybody here ever just…pop out of sight?”
“To my knowledge, no. You might answer my prayers now,” Damon suggested, smiling and holding out his hand.
Lois rolled her eyes. “You talk like you didn’t just get some nooky two hours ago.”
“An eternity of sunrounds,” he said solemnly, then boomed laughter when she tickled his ribcage.
Chapter 2
Maltese, second in line to the throne, Prince of the SandLands, was, as the sister of his heart might say, bored out of his freakin’ gourd.
“What is a gourd?” he mused aloud.
“What is a freakin’?” his youngest brother, Shakar, replied.
“Perhaps Lois will teach us her language.”
“Or perhaps her mother will, ’less the king has her in his sheets already,” Shakar said, and laughed.
“I do not think it will be as easy as you say. Look at our Lois. She was most unhappy to be made princess after the Bridefight…”
“For roughly one sunround,” Shakar pointed out dryly. “Then our brother worked his customary magic, and now we have a new princess.”
“Still,” Maltese said stubbornly.
“I hope they—the travelers—choose to stay. Or at least, I hope Lois’s dam chooses to stay. For Father’s sake, if not Lois’s. I wonder if her sire will pop up?”
“She did not miss her sire,” Maltese said. “She did miss her dam.”
“Do you think Lois wished for her, as she wished for her ‘footlocker’?”
“I know little enough of such things, my brother. Only enough to know—”
“What a dullard you really are?” Shakar asked brightly.
“That one you will pay for,” Maltese said, then pounced on his younger brother like a kitten looking for some fun. “Possibly many times will I require payment.”
“Possibly many times will I thunk your—ouch!”
So they tussled and wrestled and bounced around the courtyard, but through it all Maltese had an odd feeling, as if this were some sort of play-act and not real. As if he were pretending to have fun with his young brother. Which was wrong…he was having fun…but always, always his mind was focused on the more pressing problem: Where was his mate? Why had she not arrived?
Worse: What if she never came for him?
Chapter 3
Best to stop fretting about it. Best to put his mind to other things, like being of service to his good king and he-who-would-someday-rule. Best to stop twitching and moaning like a kitten in heat and remember his responsibilities.
Faugh. Best to take a bath. Perhaps being clean would help his head—how did Lois put it?—“get clear.”
He bumped into Sierr on the way to the bathing chambers, and she smiled at him but, at his request from many sunrounds back, did not lower to one knee or drop her gaze. “Good rising, my prince,” she murmured, her sky-purple eyes tip-tilted and warm. “Require you some assistance this day?”
“No, Sierr. Be on your way.”
“My prince,” she said as he made his way past her. Though the hallway was more than wide enough to accommodate both of them, she brushed his shoulder as he passed and he smiled to himself. It would have been distracting and nice to
have waterfun with the comely Sierr; she had rolled in his sheets before. But with his unruly thoughts all knotted up as they were today—as they had been for some time—he could not give her the attention she deserved.
Besides, she—she was not who he was looking for. He thought. He did not know what he was looking for. Or, for that matter, what he thought. Not for the first time, he envied Damon, whose charming princess had dropped almost literally into his lap.
In a rare show of events, he was the only one in the bathing chambers. Well, it was early, most people had work to be about. He did, too, i’ truth be told. It wasn’t worthy of him to sulk ’mongst the beriblooms and wish he were mated. He would wash quickly, and leave.
He stripped off his robe and stepped into the warm, fragrant water. He picked up a beribloom, crushed it in his fist, and began to work the lather across his shoulders and down his stomach. He heard a low sound, something like thrummmmmmmmm, and looked up, surprised.
He was even more surprised when the thrumming—a sound he had never before heard—got louder, and a bright gold circle of light suddenly appeared and spread wide, almost as wide as the bathing chamber. Maltese threw up a soapy forearm to shield his gaze, and as such almost missed the small form who fell through the circle of light and hit the water with a loud splash.
Just as suddenly, the noise cut off and the circle shrank down upon itself and disappeared with a whoosh. All that was left of recent events was the phantom circle imprinted on his eyes—it was everywhere he looked, and even now fading—and of course, the creature who had fallen through.
He waded to where it had fallen, stuck his arm into the water, and hauled it up as it sputtered and cursed.
Her. Hauled her up as she sputtered and cursed.
“Hello!” he cried joyfully. “I am Maltese.” He hugged her to him. “I am so happy to see you!”
His response was a stinging slap on the side of his face.
Chapter 4
Really Unusual Bad Boys Page 6
