“What are you thinking?” he asked. “You have the strangest look on your face.”
“I was thinking…” I paused, wondering what to say. I wasn’t sure how vanilla Killian was. He showed some tendency toward kink, which was fine with me because I wasn’t entirely vanilla myself. It took the right person to bring out my kinkier side. And apparently, I had found him.
“Come on, tell me,” Killian coaxed. I got the impression he knew what I was thinking.
I exaggerated rubbing my butt. “Oh, about the fact that you seem to enjoy spanking me,” I whispered, keeping my gaze on his, tensing as my nipples hardened again.
Killian noticed. He reached out his hand and gently grasped my wrist, pulling me down over his knees. His erection poked against my stomach, and I realized he was hard again. “Are you sure you want this?” he whispered.
By the rising tension in my nether parts, I realized that I did, indeed, want it. “Yes, please.”
Very slowly, he eased me off his lap, and made me sit on the edge of the bed. “Stay right there.”
I sat very still, butterflies filling my stomach. They also were flying around other places in my body, and it was hard not to squirm. I rubbed my legs together just enough for him to notice.
“I told you to sit still. I’m going to have to punish you now,” he said, a slight smile crossing his face. He reached down and opened the middle drawer of my nightstand, where I kept all my goodies. Slowly he pulled out a long, thick dildo and some lube. I watched, unable to speak, realizing that one of my fantasies was actually coming to life. As he lubed up the dildo, he kept one eye on me.
I was panting now, anticipating what he was going to do to me. But I wasn’t afraid. I knew Killian wouldn’t hurt me.
“Do you need to be punished?”
I nodded, flushing. “Yes, please.” I clutched the edge of the bed, my fingers twisting the sheets. He sat down and slapped his lap and then pulled me across his knees. With one hand, he parted my thighs as my breasts bounced over the side of his thigh. He gave one of them a quick squeeze and I gasped as his erection hit square in my stomach, hard as a rock.
“Take a deep breath,” he said, then slid the dildo into me. I tensed. The lube was cold and dripped down on my clit, making me tremble. As he thrust the dildo in as far as it would go, I squeezed my legs together to hold it in place. And then, carefully—keeping his strokes on the edge of pain but not quite crossing the threshold—Killian began to spank me. I let out a long moan, so turned on I could barely stand it. And then, before I could say a word, I came hard, squirming as the orgasm rocked my body and I rocked my pelvis, the dildo wide and hard inside me.
“Hold still. What do you want me to do?” he asked. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Fuck me,” I said with a groan. “Please, fuck me.”
Killian thrust the dildo in and out of my vaj as I squirmed against it. “I want you, in the shower. But first, blow me.”
I started to reach back, to pull the dildo out of me, but he smacked my hand away. “Leave it. On your knees.”
Horny beyond belief, I kept my legs together, holding the dildo inside, as I slid down on my knees in front of him. He leaned back, resting on his hands as his head dropped back, his hair trailing behind him.
I took him in my mouth, sucking hard, licking him from the base of his cock to the tip. I pressed my lips over the head of his cock, then lowered my mouth to form a tight suction around him as I began to bob up and down. Reaching down with one hand, I fingered myself, even as I used my other to squeeze the base of his cock. A moment later he came, loud and bellowing, foaming into my mouth. I swallowed his salty cum, and at that moment, triggered my own spark as I rubbed my clit hard and came yet again. As Killian’s cock stopped throbbing, I let go, letting the dildo slide out.
I looked up at him, shaking my head. “We need to start talking fantasy more often.”
“I knew you weren’t fully vanilla, but I wasn’t sure how far outside the box you liked to play,” Killian said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I love you, you know? You’re beautiful. I love the way your hips curve out, and I love your breasts, and everything about you. And I have to say, I enjoyed spanking you. I’ll never hurt you, but if you want something—if you have a fantasy—let me know and I’d be happy to fulfill it.”
I leaned up, pressing my breasts against him, kissing him deeply. He swept me into his arms and carried me into the shower where we lathered up and scrubbed each other’s backs, and washed our hair. By the time we were finished, it was nine-thirty, and I felt thoroughly loved and absolutely satisfied.
Chapter Eighteen
By the time we dressed and dried our hair, it was time for brunch.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Killian said, dressing before I had even fully dried off. He kissed my cheek and left me alone to get ready.
Still awash in the glow of morning sex, I slipped into a pair of jeans, a hunter green turtleneck, and a pair of ankle boots. As I brushed my hair back into a ponytail and put on my makeup, I realized I felt a little adrift. I was so used to going to work and seeing Tad and the rest of the gang that it felt off when I wasn’t. Time off was fun, but I was looking forward to getting back to work next week.
I headed down the stairs, thinking about the meeting to come. We’d coordinate with Rowan before we went, so she could wire us up. Even though I trusted the Court Magika, Esmara had planted a little seed of doubt, and I kept thinking about what would happen if they didn’t make it in time. As far as I was concerned, 15 percent of my lifetime was 15 percent too much to lose.
What the hell was Sheryl planning on doing with the extra time? Did she have some project that she needed to get done and that would take longer than a normal lifetime? Was she greedy or afraid of dying? She seemed so young that the latter seemed implausible.
Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. She was stealing life off of her recruits as well as bilking them out of thousands of dollars and she needed to be stopped.
I clattered down the stairs. As I reached the kitchen, Killian was standing at the refrigerator, staring at the contents. The cats were eating—he had fed them—and a mocha was waiting on the table for me.
“What you want for breakfast? Eggs? Bacon? Waffles?”
“How about lunch instead of brunch? Grilled cheese and tomato soup? That seems perfect on a blustery day like today.”
I was grateful the power was holding. During the Pacific Northwest November windstorms, power outages were common as huge trees came down. We usually had at least one bad windstorm a year, and a number of smaller ones.
The worst windstorm I remembered was when I was in my early twenties. The Hanukkah Eve storm had left two to three million people without power, and near–hurricane force winds had left Western Washington looking like a demilitarized zone.
I was in Seattle at that point, early in my marriage with Ellison, and we had been renting a house. A tall fir had fallen, crashing across the roof. Luckily, we hadn’t been hurt, but I learned a valuable lesson. I swore up and down that when I owned a house, I’d hire a landscaper every year to check the trees and see how stable they were. It occurred to me that I hadn’t done that yet since I’d been back in Moonshadow Bay. I jotted down a note to do so immediately.
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup coming up. Do you want anything on your sandwich besides cheese?” Killian glanced over his shoulder at me.
I laughed. “No, please. I’m a purist. Butter on the bread and cheddar. No ham, no lobster, nothing except bread, cheese, and butter. And make me two, would you? I’m hungry this morning. We worked up quite a sweat.” I gave him a shy smile, almost embarrassed.
Killian winked back at me. “It was my pleasure,” he said, drawing out the words.
Smiling, I sat down to drink my mocha and opened my tablet to bring up the news.
The world was in such disarray that I switched over to the website for the Moonshadow Bay Monitor. I didn’t feel like reading
bad news. It raised my blood pressure and heightened stress. Since there wasn’t much I could do about any of it, I decided to put myself out of my misery and avoid it. When there was something I could help change, I’d dive in and do my part. But so much of the world was one giant cluster fuck, and helpless anger didn’t help anything.
“Do shifters get morning sickness?” I asked, suddenly thinking about Tally.
“Not exactly. Yes, the nausea and upset stomach often follow with pregnancy, but most of the shifter women I’ve known who have been pregnant don’t have a regular form of morning sickness. Hormones, though, that’s another matter. Pregnant shifters are far more hormonal than humans. It can be a test of any relationship. The phrase ‘Happy wife, happy life’ applies far more in a shifter household than in a human household.”
I thought about Ari and Meagan. I wasn’t sure if they wanted children or not, but if they did, I wondered who would be getting pregnant. And would they choose a shifter sperm donor, or a witchblood sperm donor? As I pondered over the question, I suddenly felt slightly embarrassed. I was on my way to being a first-rate gossip, but at least it was just with myself. Ari would tell me if it came up, and until then, it really wasn’t any of my business.
“You have the strangest look on your face,” Killian said as he handed me a soup mug and a plate with two sandwiches on it.
“I was thinking about sperm donors,” I blurted out before I realized how it would sound.
Killian turned back to stare at me. “Is there something I should know about?”
I laughed. “No. I was thinking about Ari and Meagan and whether they would have children, and if so, would they choose a witchblood or a shifter donor. And then I realized it’s none of my business, and then you asked me what I was thinking about.”
“I never know what to expect out of you, and honestly—I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Killian brought his food over to the table.
As we ate, comfortable in the little breakfast nook, I glanced out the window. The rain was letting up and, although it was still breezy, the winds had died down.
“I love the bleakness. I love it when all the trees are barren of leaves and at night, I love to see their stark silhouettes against the light of the moon.”
“It is beautiful. In California it’s still infernally hot at this time of year, at least where I lived.” He paused, then added, “When I put up the new decorations and fix the ones that came loose, I’ll make sure to attach them all firmly. Since I didn’t move in until December last year, I don’t think I understood how strong the storms can get here. Have you noticed that? How some storms almost seem to have a sentience to them?”
I nodded. “I had a friend once, from the Midwest. She told me once that tornadoes had a life of their own. She said she saw one, and the malevolence she felt coming from it was terrifying. She was witchblood, with a focus on air magic, so she understood the nature of the element. After that I began watching storms, and I started noticing that some of them do have a certain sentience to them—not all, of course. But enough so that I don’t think it’s a fluke.”
“Are you ready for tonight?” Killian asked.
I shrugged. “I suppose. I can’t help but wonder what’s driving her to do this. What reason can she have for being so…”
“So horrible? Sometimes there isn’t a good reason. You have to go on what you know at the moment. And what you know is that she’s taking advantage of people. In my profession, once in a while an animal will come in and I find a rare form of cancer or an odd disease, and there’s no rhyme or reason why they contracted it. I can’t spend my time worrying about why. I have to try to treat the condition and hopefully pull them through. In some cases, you’ll never find an answer, but you take care of the symptoms and hope that it solves the problem.”
“It must be difficult, especially when cats and dogs don’t understand. They don’t know why they feel like crap, and they don’t always understand that you’re trying to help them.” I stared at my sandwich, shaking my head. “I admire what you do.” I caught Killian’s gaze. “I think that being a veterinarian is one of the most noble jobs you can have. Your patients can’t thank you, and sometimes they’re afraid of you, but you make so much difference in their lives.”
Killian reached across the table and took my hand. “Thank you for that. I hate it when I have to tell a person they’re going to lose their beloved family member. I hate it when I have abused animals come in—I want to hunt down who did it and rip them to shreds. But at least I can make a difference in my own way. In the scheme of things, the life of one cat or one dog may not seem like much, but it matters to that cat or that dog, and it matters to their owners.”
We finished brunch, and Killian headed outside to work on the decorations. I finished washing the dishes and then called Rowan.
“Hey, I was wondering when you’re coming over tonight.”
“Actually, I thought I’d come over early. I want to run you through a few magical practices first. Do you have the time?”
“Yeah, I do. When will you be over?”
“Around three-thirty. Do you mind if Tarvish comes with me? He wants to talk to Killian.”
I laughed. For some reason the thought that Tarvish had joined our home in Moonshadow Bay delighted me. “I suppose, although I don’t know what Killian’s plans for the afternoon are. He’s working on the decorations outside, so why don’t you text him and ask him.”
Rowan agreed, then said she would be here at four p.m.
xxxAfter I got off the phone, I diced two loaves of bread into cubes, sprayed them with cooking spray, then spread them out onto cookie sheets and slid them into a 275-degree oven. I set the timer for an hour. While the bread dried out into croutons for the stuffing, I prepared the mise en place. I washed and diced three shallots and a bunch of celery, then began to chop walnuts. Finally, I mixed in the spices for the stuffing and tucked the container into the fridge. I’d dice the apple when I actually put the stuffing together.
Then I decided to make the gravy too, because the flavors would blend nicely until Thanksgiving. It dawned on me that I needed the turkey so I could use the neck for the gravy itself. I peeked in on the croutons but they weren’t quite ready yet, so I washed up the dishes and got everything else ready that I’d need for the gravy.
I called the store and asked if I could pick up my turkey a day early and they said no problem. As soon as the croutons were ready, I turned off the oven, grabbed my purse and headed out toward my car. I waved at Killian, who was trying to figure out how to put together a very large snowman for the yard.
“I’m headed to the supermarket to get the turkey,” I called out. “Is there anything you want?”
“I could go for a couple doughnuts.” He started to reach for his wallet but I waved him off.
“What kind? Cake doughnuts? Jelly-filled?”
“Surprise me!”
I hopped in the car and eased out of the driveway, heading toward Arnica Avenue. I had ordered the turkey from a local farmer who sold through the supermarket. They had the best organic turkeys fresh off the range. I decided to pick the doughnuts up from the doughnut shop on the way home.
The supermarket was jam-packed. I grabbed a cart and threaded my way through the aisles. I was turning the corner at the end of the spice aisle when I came across Alicia King. Remembering that I had been meaning to invite her to Thanksgiving, I pulled my cart out of the center of the aisle and caught her attention.
“Hi, Alicia! Sorry for not answering your invitation to tea on Friday, but I don’t know if I can make it. Would you like to spend Thanksgiving with us? My aunt and my boyfriend are coming over, and a number of friends. We would love to have you with us.” I flashed her a bright smile so that she would know I was being genuine and not merely polite.
She ducked her head, looking pleased. “I’d love to come. Thank you so much. I don’t have any family still alive, and most of my friends go to their children’s houses for
Thanksgiving. You don’t know much I appreciate the invitation,” Alicia said. She was witchblood, and she looked old, which meant she was probably very old. “Is there anything I can bring?”
“Just yourself. Though if you want to bring a bottle of wine or sparkling cider to add to the festivities, that’s fine. I hope you like turkey.”
“Of course. I have a spiral ham in the freezer, if you’d like me to bring that as well.”
I already had ham, but I could tell she wanted to help out so I simply said, “That would be lovely, thank you. Dinner’s at four p.m., but you’re welcome to come over anytime after one.”
The look on her face made me glad I had invited her, and as I picked up the turkey, it occurred to me that this was the first year I was really looking forward to the holiday. I loved Thanksgiving as a child, but it had been a long time since I had eaten with my family.
With Ellison’s family, the day had been one constant barrage of insults after another. They were just trying to help me lose weight, they were just trying to help me shore up Ellison more, they were just trying to help me fit in instead of standing out because of my magical background. I was so far from the ideal of a daughter-in-law that I knew I could never manage to please them. And not once had Ellison ever backed me up.
Trying to blow off the memories of the past, I headed toward the nearest Jelly Roger doughnut shop and ordered two dozen assorted doughnuts. Finally, I stopped at the local espresso stand and bought a caramel latte, then headed back home.
After bagging the croutons, I set the neck of the turkey to boiling in a base of chicken broth. While that came to a boil, I tried to squeeze the turkey into my fridge, but there wasn’t enough room. I popped outside to see Tarvish helping Killian putting up the decorations.
“Hey, Killian, can I use your fridge to store the turkey?”
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