Fate's Fools Box Set

by Bell, Ophelia

  “What?” I ask, pulling back, but he grips me tighter to him.

  “You’re already wet,” he says. I blink down at him in confusion and he closes his eyes as if to steel himself. “You’re aroused. Ready to make love. I can show you, if you let me take these off.”

  I nod, and Ozzie slides his hands up my hips beneath the dress and tugs at the thin fabric of my undergarment. He pulls down, the cloth clinging briefly between my thighs, and I understand what he means. My core is swollen with need, but not only that, I’m soaked, the wetness clinging to the insides of my thighs.

  After I step out of the sodden garment, he pushes his hands beneath my skirt again, dragging his palms up the sides of my thighs to my hips, then back. He squeezes my backside gently, pulling me toward him.

  “Straddle me,” he says, and I obey, placing a knee on either side of his hips.

  He leans back and looks up at me. “I just want to look at you,” he says. “So beautiful. So fucking perfect.”

  I reach out a hesitant hand and touch his cheek. “So are you. Are you wet like me?”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “That’s not how men work, szívem. What I am is hard.”

  He takes my hand and places it on his groin, and I inhale sharply at the hardness inside his pants. I squeeze and his eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening again with a fresh blaze of need. He removes his hands from beneath my skirt and begins slowly unlacing the bodice of my dress. The constricting fabric around my breasts loosens little by little and my breathing quickens.

  “Show me,” I say.

  “Show yourself. My hands are a little busy right now.”

  I shift backward on his legs and move my skirt to see what I’m doing. The rough, blue fabric of his pants strains with the pressure of what’s beneath and I lick my lips, confused by the way my mouth waters at the thought of seeing him undressed. But my hands are sure and steady when I unfasten the button and tug down the zipper. He’s wearing nothing beneath, and at first all I see is a thatch of dark gold curls before I push the fabric down.

  Ozzie stops his progress with my dress and lifts his hips to help. I push the hem of his shirt up above his navel as his erection slips out of his pants, thick and curving slightly to one side. My touch makes him gasp, a sound I find disarming, and I bite my lower lip, pleased that I could draw it from him.

  “Does this feel good?” I ask, gliding my fingertips along his length. He’s hot and rigid, the skin tight over his length except for his foreskin, which hides all but the pink tip of him.

  “It’s torture, really,” he says, but he’s smiling as he resumes tugging at the laces of my dress. “I’ll show you what I mean.”

  The laces come free and he pulls the sides of my dress wide, freeing my breasts to his gaze. They feel heavy with want, my nipples aching. He cups them with both hands, my flesh spilling over his palms as he leans forward and takes one stiff, dark tip in his mouth.

  “Oh!” I’m surprised by the sudden wet heat, followed by the light suck that sends a spike of pleasure to my core. Wetness practically gushes between my thighs and I press down, rocking my hips against empty air between his thighs. His cock is what I want, but I’m still busy exploring it and the soft handful of his balls at his base.

  My rocking hips must catch his attention, because he releases one breast and pushes his hand beneath my skirt again, sliding it up my inner thigh. He rumbles low in his chest as he grazes my sensitive flesh.

  “See? Torture,” he says as he strokes me, somehow teasing me everywhere but the one aching spot that I need, and I understand what he means all too well.

  “This isn’t making love yet,” I say with certainty, though I think it could be part of it.

  “You sound like you know what that means,” he says, brushing his lips over the tops of my breasts as his fingertips delve deeper between my legs, gliding back and forth along the entire length of my slit.

  “It means taking you inside me and enjoying each other until we share a soul.”

  “Yes, but there is more to it than that. You’re sharing yourself with me now, a little at a time. The more we touch, the more ready you’ll be. And making you ready for me is an act of love as much as actually making love is.”

  “C-Can I be too ready?” I ask, pushing my hips against his touch.

  “I don’t think so,” he says, fingers finding a part of me that aches for friction. My thoughts scatter to the winds and I moan involuntarily, closing my hand around his shaft and squeezing.

  “Fuck yes,” he says, fevered blue gaze fixed on my face. He rubs me in a slow circle before sliding his fingers back and finding a second spot that aches. He probes, then pushes his finger into me. I arch with a sigh at the gentle stretch and the awareness that this is where his cock belongs, not his fingers, though they feel nice pushing into me and stroking my inner walls until I’m quaking with unchecked need.

  “Please,” I beg, needing more, but not sure how to ask for it.

  “Please what?” he says.

  There’s only one thing I can say. “Please make love to me.”

  He removes his hand from between my legs and I almost protest, but his arms come around me instead, his mouth claiming mine as he stands. I have no choice but to wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist, kissing him back with a desperate hunger I barely understand. All I know is that I need him in a way I didn’t realize before. I want nothing more than to be in his arms as he strides across the room, pushing open the door to the bedroom and closing it behind him with the kick of his booted foot.

  He breaks the kiss just long enough to stare down at me when he lays me on the bed. I stare back, marveling at his shape as he undresses. This man is all for me, I realize—the look of adoration and bright promise in his eyes, the thick, corded muscles of his shoulders and arms, the planes of his chest and stomach dusted with dark gold hair, and everything lower that I’m acutely aware is going to give me pleasure in only a moment.

  When he’s naked, he joins me, lying at my side and pressing his lips to my throat, my collarbone, my chest. He moves lower, hooking his fingers in my bodice and pulling it down. I slide my arms out of the loose sleeves and lift my hips when he urges. He kisses all the way, the last soft peck just beneath my navel as he discards the dress.

  He’s between my legs now, gaze fixed on my face as he touches one knee, urging me to bend it. I obey, spreading my thighs and bending both knees as he moves up my body again, bracing himself on both hands.

  My heart pounds so hard I can feel it everywhere, especially where our bodies are about to be joined.

  “Are you all right, Deva?” he asks, his eyes so blue it makes me wish we were doing this outside beneath the sky. Tomorrow; once we’ve made love, we’ll be allowed outside, and we can do it again and again without the walls around us.

  “Yes. I’m ready,” I tell him, tilting my hips as I hook my heels behind his thighs and slide them up. Ozzie’s muscles tense, shoulders bunching and breath coming in trembling pants.

  He lowers himself on one elbow beside me and drops the other hand between us. I catch my lower lip between my teeth, anxious for the first time, then release it with a gasp when he aligns his cockhead with my opening.

  “Breathe,” he reminds me, his slow exhale making me wonder if it wasn’t a reminder for us both. I inhale as directed and exhale, but the breath turns into a low, keening moan as he pushes into me.

  He’s slow, deliberate, and I can see the torture in his eyes, but it gradually fades as he fills me up inch by exquisite inch.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asks, but I can’t catch my breath to speak. I shake my head and push my hips up against him, seeking more of that sensation. Finally I inhale again and find the words I need.

  “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  With a groan he buries his face in my neck and begins to move, and the pleasure returns with a vengeance.

  “By the Winds, you feel so good,” he says
, his brow damp against my shoulder and his words hot on my skin.

  “S-So do you,” I say, but the words seem inadequate for exactly how good he makes me feel. It’s as though this life I’d been given is only a door being opened, and what we share in this moment is the act of walking through.

  I cling to him, panting and gasping as we rock against each other, realizing with fervent regret that I made a mistake.

  I don’t want to forget this as long as I live.

  14

  Llyr

  I hadn’t slept since being freed from my Ultiori prison, but whatever Callie did to the food knocked me out. My only moment of wakefulness had been that brief awareness of Deva’s presence, followed by my invitation for her to join me on the sofa. I’d fallen back to sleep easily with her in my arms and her conjured blanket covering us, curled around her in a protective embrace.

  But something tugged at my consciousness, and I woke again just before dawn to quickened breathing and faint whimpering.

  I opened my eyes to get my bearings, gratified by the pleasant pressure of Deva’s curves still pressed against me. I was hard, but that didn’t matter—it was just a side-effect of her proximity, and there wasn’t much to counteract it. Still, my cock ached even worse when I realized the sounds she was making weren’t from distress, but from pleasure.

  I eased myself up onto an elbow and peered down at Deva’s sleeping face. Her brows were drawn together, her lips parted and whispering a familiar name. She made a small hum of frustration and her eyes opened.

  She blinked at me, clearly disoriented for a few seconds before her vision cleared and she emitted a soft laugh, burying her face in my chest.

  “Bad dream?” I asked, though I was sure it had to be the opposite. But bad could be relative. If she’d been dreaming about making love to Ozzie, she might consider that the worst kind of dream to have.

  “Very good dream. A memory, really.” She exhaled as though still catching her breath, then lifted her gaze to meet mine again. “Did he ever show it to you? That night. You knew about it . . . ”

  I shook my head. “He wanted to in Vegas, but he wasn’t willing to open himself up and offer it. He wanted me to go in and take it from him.”

  “And you said no. How very honorable of you, all things considered.”

  I tilted my head from side to side, smiling slightly. “It was different before we were blood-melded. I wasn’t above tricking him to learn his secrets. I even took your shape once at the beginning to—ah—inspire him to meld with me. That’s how I learned how he tastes.”

  “Oh, that’s mean,” she said, scowling at me. “But it worked, I take it?”

  “Like a charm, but it didn’t really endear me to him. It did make me realize how closely linked you two were. That was when everything changed for me. When I understood why he’d done what he did. It was all to protect you.”

  She swallowed and nodded, dropping her gaze. “Did you know it was my choice to forget?” She met my confused look with a nod. “Yeah, it surprised me too, but it’s true. Ozzie didn’t force me into anything. We didn’t even make love until I asked for it. Can I show you? I think . . . ” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think he would want you to see.”

  “Our meld has faded. The blood link I share with you only goes one way. You know this.”

  “Then we need to refresh it. Or let me give you my blood to make it permanent.”

  She lifted her gaze back to mine in an unwavering stare. Gaia save me, she actually meant it. There might have been a time when a blood-meld offer from the right female would have been the highest honor, the pinnacle of love. But now it just felt like a consolation prize, no matter how earnestly she meant it.

  Still, deep down I knew it wasn’t entirely about me. I was blood-melded to Ozzie. Sharing that deep a bond with her would allow her to experience my bond with him firsthand. And that was a bad idea all around, especially now that she’d been dragged back from the edge of insanity by Callie’s magic. That would just push her over again.

  “Do you really want to share that night with me?” I asked. It took work not to let any hint of dread tinge my voice. The truth was I wasn’t sure I could handle the experience myself, but would endure it to understand, and if it offered some clue about Ozzie, it could be valuable.

  She took a deep, shaky breath. “I need someone else to see. To understand him, at least. And I think I owe it to you after failing to believe you all along.” She touched my cheek lightly. “I still see you as my first. That experience wasn’t diminished a bit, because when we were together, I had no memory of making love to him. I still treasure it, despite what came after and despite what I know now. We will be together, Llyr. As soon as we find him, I promise.”

  I suppressed the frustrated growl rising in me, along with the urge to repeat my objections about the terms under which she insisted she’d have me. It was still all tied to Ozzie. But I’d done this to myself. I’d blood-melded the bastard, so I could deal with the fucking consequences.

  Inhaling slowly, I gathered my irritation and pushed it to the side, then nodded, returning my gaze to hers. “You’ve had my essence tonight already. I just need a taste of yours. A kiss might be enough, unless you need more . . . ”

  “I don’t need more, but I’d prefer a strong link for this.” She exhaled a long breath that shimmered silver in the dim, pre-dawn light. The smoke flowed down her body, dissolving every stitch of her clothing until nothing but warm, naked curves pressed against me.

  I cursed softly, afraid she’d ask for this. Every moment of intimacy with her was a study in self-control. I couldn’t resist touching her, my hand drawn to her softness like a moth to a flame as I cupped one breast in my palm and bent my head to take her nipple between my lips.

  Deva sighed and combed her fingers through my hair as I rolled her onto her back and moved above her. I’d fallen asleep shirtless but still in jeans, and now my cock strained at the zipper. I was grateful they weren’t conjured, that I’d had the foresight to change after our encounter earlier so I could avoid the temptation to dispel them myself and mount her right here.

  But if we were insisting on this path, I’d damn well make sure I did it well. She’d asked for a strong link, and the more of her essence I consumed, the better. Which meant teasing her mercilessly until she begged for it. It was already torture enough for me as it was, and misery loved company, after all.

  I spent an interminable amount of time worshipping her breasts until she squirmed and pulled my hair. I lifted my gaze and met her withering stare. “Are you going down on me or not?” she asked.

  I chuckled. “Soon enough, sweetness.” Swirling the tip of my tongue around her nipple once more, I slid a hand between her thighs, cursing at the lake of wetness that greeted me. My mouth watered in anticipation of the feast to come.

  Deva moaned and spread her thighs, her folds parting under my touch. I returned my mouth to her breasts, sucking each tip one last time while I glided my fingertips up and down her slit, grazing her swollen clit for good measure and enjoying the way her hips bucked with each deliberate touch.

  “Sweet Mother, I think I hate you a little right now,” she said. “You’re torturing me.”

  “You’re the one who wants to torture me with visions of Ozzie making love to you,” I replied.

  She froze, her fingers tightening in my hair. Slowly she pushed me away and slid up to a seated position against the arm of the sofa. “I’m sorry,” she said in a brittle tone. “I only thought it fair for you to see, especially since he never showed you the truth. We don’t have to do that.”

  I let out an impatient exhale and sat back on my haunches, gripping my erection and adjusting it into a less painful configuration. “If I didn’t want to do it, I’d have said no. That doesn’t mean it’ll be easy for me. Fuck, Deva, just being near you is hard enough. It isn’t as if this is going to make things worse.”

  “It’s not making things better, though.”
<
br />   “Well, we won’t know if that’s the case unless we try, will we?” I asked. “Now come back here and let me finish what I fucking started.”

  I grabbed her by the ankles and tugged, dragging her back down and pushing her legs up and wide. Before she could catch her breath to object, I had my mouth over her pussy and my tongue plunging into heaven.

  She cried out and let her legs splay, hooking one foot over the back of the sofa and resting the other on my shoulder while I tongued her. Each lick filled my mouth with her sweet flavor, the magic awakening that temporary bond between our minds once again.

  I ignored the link for the time being, determined to hear her scream my name at least once before I allowed the true torture to begin. Her flavor carried faint remnants of Rohan, though her own arousal had all but swept his away.

  Her swollen flesh pulsed beneath my tongue, her panting moans growing more fervent, her nails digging into my scalp. By all the gods, I wished I could bury myself inside her again. I considered letting my primal nature free and doing just that, but I was desperate enough that surrendering that much control could be dangerous to our surroundings. That, and I preferred to keep this moment between me and her, and a satyr in rut was never quiet.

  “Llyr, please let me come,” she whimpered, and I let out a muffled rumble of satisfaction against her folds, capturing her swollen nub between my lips again and flicking my tongue back and forth around it. I pushed two fingers into her, twisting them around and rubbing her sensitive inner walls while at the same time allowing my pinky to graze her rear opening.

  Deva gasped and breathed a barely articulate plea, so I obliged, pushing beyond her tight rear barrier. I sucked her clit a little harder while fucking into her with my fingers, and she cried my name once more. The word fell husky and dripping with need from her lips, rising into the air repeatedly as her body began its crumbling descent over the edge of pleasure.

  Finally all that came out was a breathy moan. Deva trembled, clenching her fingers in my hair. I continued licking her clean of every last drop of essence until she shivered and tugged unapologetically at my roots.