Marie Harte - Aftershocks

“Ellie,” he said thickly, telling himself over and over that this had to be her decision. The urge to take her, to throw her down on the floor and fuck her until neither of them could walk was overpowering. But he refused to let his cock direct his actions.

Ellie took the decision out of his hands. Snarling, she closed the distance between them. “You jerk.” Plastering her mouth over his, she stole every thought as his blood rushed below his beltline.

Moments later, when she finally let him go, he gasped for breath. “Fuck, Ellie.”

“Yes, fuck Ellie,” she urged, tugging at his shirt and unsnapping his jeans in a flash. Her hands ran over his chest like trails of heat surging through his blood. Mountains of lust erupted, consuming him despite his desire to take things slow.

Succumbing to his needs, he moved in a frenzy. Cotton and denim flew everywhere until skin met skin, and he sighed into her mouth. The feel of her full breasts pressing his chest made him groan with raw need. She felt it as well, her mind completely open as she broadcasted her wants.

“I’m going to make you scream,” he whispered in her ear before darting in his tongue to make her shiver. Running his lips down her throat, he sucked at her hammering pulse. She arched closer to him, responding as if made for him. Moving farther down, he kissed and nipped his way to her breasts, bringing them both to their knees as he sucked, biting with enough pressure to make her sigh with pleasure.

Unable to resist, he stroked down her belly as he toyed with her breasts. The silver ring piercing her navel felt cool against his fingers, and he pulled gently on it before continuing his search lower. Petting the blonde curls between her legs, he thrust a finger through her cleft, deep into her pussy.

“You’re so wet for me,” he growled and unconsciously thrust his swelling cock against her belly. “So ready for me to fuck you.”

“Cadmus.” She held him to her breast with shaking hands. “I can’t believe how much I need you.”

Need you . Not need this . Male satisfaction poured through him, a heady mixture of lust and affection for the woman in his arms that made him want to do more than simply fuck her, more than take her body. He wanted to claim her, to brand her as his own so no one else could touch her without her thinking of him and him alone.

“Elliara,” he rasped as he began thrusting first one finger, then two inside her. She was more than human, more than a woman. She was a goddess he planned to worship with reverence. He sucked her nipple deep, gratified by her loud moans and trembling body. “I’m going to love you so hard, so deep, baby.”

He continued to kiss her, moving back to her luscious mouth. By the Light, his Ellie knew how to kiss. She used her whole mouth, her lips inviting, pouting under his while her tongue ravaged his mouth. Stroking and sliding, she mimicked lovemaking so urgently he was soon lost to finesse.

With an animalistic growl, he brought them to the floor. Looming over her, he nudged her thighs wide, lowering his cock to the burning entrance of her core. Her wetness covered his tip, and with a loud curse, he plunged deep through the tight, hugging flesh that welcomed his intrusion.

“Cadmus, oh my God,” she cried, clutching him tightly. She wrapped her ankles around his waist as he thrust like a man possessed. In and out, hard and without cease. He deliberately rotated his pelvis to rub her clit, the slap of his flesh against hers erotic in the extreme.

Her moans escalated, and he could feel her climbing steadily towards climax. He wanted to hold her there, but he had no room to play. Dark ecstasy wound around and through him, trapping him helplessly in her feminine power. He quickened his movements, pummeling as her cries increased his pleasure.

“Yes, yes,” she pleaded. Her body clamped down around him, squeezing him into a mind-blowing climax as she found her own.

Shocks of energy shot through his body, leaving him connected to her mind, body and soul as he emptied inside her womb, filling her with his Light.

“Ellie,” he groaned as he shuddered, his orgasm so intense he could only ride the wave and pray he had enough strength not to come crashing down when it was over. On and on, he pulsed, and he felt seed trickling down his thighs as he continued to come.

Some time later, when he could again think, he stared down at the woman who had robbed him of speech.

“Cadmus,” she sighed. Her eyes were hazy with satisfied contentment. “Am I alive?”

He chuckled, the vibration of his voice causing him to press deeper inside her. Leaning on his elbows to keep from crushing her, he marvelled at her beauty as he lay buried in her heat. “If you’re not, we’re both in the Next.”

“Heaven,” she agreed and pulled him close for a kiss. Lazy yet stirring, her kiss had him twitching within her.

“Not yet,” he groaned, needing more recovery time. Hell, she’d nearly made him lose his mind, and now had him hardening when he should have had nothing left to give her. “Ellie,” he warned as she squeezed around him. “You’re asking for trouble.”

She grinned and arched a brow. “Are you saying you can’t deliver?”

He pulled out and surged back inside, thickening with every push. “Baby, I’ll more than deliver. Can you take all I have to give?”

Her lips parted, and her lids lowered. “ Baby , I can take anything you’re giving.”

“Good,” he said with a wicked grin. “Then get ready for more of this.”

She moaned and writhed as he grew long and hard once more, and soon, his humour was replaced by the all-consuming lust that only Ellie aroused.

Standing in the neutral haven of Shathra, Arim frowned at Ethim il Ruethe, determined to hear the Djinn out before he found his conniving nephew and beat some sense into him. Screwing around with the Sarqua ruler’s daughter was not only stupid, but incredibly dangerous. Despite Ethim’s fair features, the man was a walking threat. Equal in ferocity to a Storm Lord in a rage, Ethim had Dark powers that easily countered that of a Light Bringer. And Ethim’s kind played by no one’s rules but their own.

“So Guardian of Storm, we‘re at an impasse.”

“It would seem,” Arim said slowly. Where was Ethim going with this?

“You want to keep Tanselm ‘pure’ while we want to return Tanselm to its natural order.”

“To the Dark, you mean?”

“No.” Ethim looked irritated and began pacing in the small stone keep that provided sanctuary for those needing it. “That’s not what I mean. You aren’t old enough to remember what Tanselm was like before the Dark Lords turned, when those of Light and Dark coexisted peacefully.”

“Oh? Was that before the Djinn drained the lifeforce out of half the Light Bringers in existence, or after the Dark Lords converted the unwilling into wraiths and demons?”

Ethim scowled. “The wraiths have always been. Yes, some were Light Bringer converts, but most were as they are today. And demons aren’t a Dark Lord invention.” Ethim sniffed. “Really, Arim.”

“Really, Ethim,” Arim mocked. “Don’t tell me you want to share Tanselm? Not when so many Djinn have gone to such extremes to have it back.” He hid the pain of Faustus’ death, remembering too easily his sister’s grief when her husband fell to Djinn poison.

“You know those aren’t my people.”

“How do I know? Because I’m supposed to trust on faith?” Arim looked at him in disbelief. “The reason we’ve held onto Tanselm for so long is that the Light Bringers have distrusted everyone and everything of Dark and Shadow. We’ve resisted the Netharat before and will do so again.”