Diana Rowland - Fury of the Demon

But not right here in full view of spectators. I broke the kiss and seized his hand. “Pond,” I gasped, and then we were off at a run down the trail. I let him lead since I figured he could see better in the rainy gloom, and running smack into a pine would probably cool my ardor a teensy bit.

Lightning still lit the clouds as we emerged into the clearing, reflected in the pond like earth and sky joined in perfect synchrony. Dozens of sigils glowed around his little pavilion, adding their own color and sparkle to the surface of the water and casting soft light on the surroundings. Literally a magical setting, I thought as he drew me close again for another searing kiss. I moaned against his mouth as my hands worked the buttons on his shirt. Or tried to.

I pulled back with a curse of frustration. “Shitballs goddammit!” I snarled as the wet fabric defeated my attempts. “Are these stapled together?” Great. Magical setting overwhelmed by a ridiculously mundane issue.

He laughed, took my hand, and focused, and a heartbeat later power wrapped around us to pull the rainwater from our clothes and hair and vaporize it with a hiss.

“Show off,” I teased, then made short work of divesting him of the now-dry shirt. The rest of his clothing quickly followed along with my own, and then he scooped me up in his arms, strode to the pavilion, and tumbled me to the mattress.

Laughing, I took hold of his braid and delighted in his groan as I tugged him to me with it. The groan shifted to a growl of desire as he lowered his head to my breast and claimed a nipple. I let out a gasping cry as I arched up to his mouth, wrapped my arms around him, and savored the perfection of his body against mine.

He shifted lower, and I dropped my head back, grip tightening on his head and hair as he wrung incoherent noises from me. Hands and mouth and everything that was him , so familiar to me now yet still as exhilarating as our first time. I eagerly succumbed to it all, cried out and clenched and felt his satisfaction and delight mingle with my pleasure.

Mzatal lifted his head as I fought to catch my breath, his gaze filled with stunning joy and passion. “Zharkat,” he murmured, then shifted forward.

“Not so fast,” I said with a throaty laugh as I once again seized his braid, wrapped it around my hand. “My turn.” Seizing control, I used the grip on his braid, shifted my weight and hooked a leg around his to reverse our positions. Mirthful delight danced in his eyes as he went to his back and I knelt astride him. We both knew he could have resisted easily, but where would be the fun in that? Yet the smile he turned on me was anything but indulgent. I claimed his mouth and tasted my own pleasure on his lips. A groan ripped from his throat, and the hands that rose to grip my hips shuddered with his own unslaked need.

I nipped and kissed along the sculptured landscape of his torso, toyed with sensitized nipples as he clenched his fists and throbbed against me. My fingers skimmed down his sides with a trail of goosebumps to mark their passage. Moving further down, I stroked and slid my flesh and mouth against him, loving upon him and giving back all he’d given me and more, until the clearing echoed with his own cries of need and pleasure and release.

His eyes met mine as our connection reverberated with all we were to each other, for each other. Shifting forward again, I indulged in a long and slow kiss until heat once again clutched at my belly, and he throbbed hard and urgent between us. As I moaned into the kiss, he slid a hand to my backside and brought the other up to tangle in my hair to hold me close. He rolled me to my back, and I went unresisting, opened to him and wrapped my legs around his hips as he slid inside me. My hands dug into his shoulders as he drove deeper, quickened the pace. Without words I urged him on, merged our desire and ecstasy.

With a strangled cry he plunged into me as I bucked against him, gripped him close, and greedily took all he had to offer. His eyes shone with wild need, and as we crested together, I dragged his head down, covered his mouth with mine, and joined my scream of release with his.

I stroked his chest while I pillowed my head on his shoulder. “Do you do that lightning thing often?”

“Perhaps thrice a year,” he replied. “Though I called it only two days past after returning home because of the severe depletion.”

“You don’t feel at all depleted now,” I said, pressing close. “We should work on that some more.”

His hand slid to my ass, and he chuckled low. “Ah, you will indeed deplete me, again and again.”

I laughed. “Before any more depletion, I need to get something to eat,” I told him. “Plus, my friend Jill is here. Y’all should meet.”

“Yes, it is time to know Jill Faciane,” he agreed.

We found our scattered clothing, quickly dressed, and returned to the house. Jill and Jekki sat at the kitchen table, heads bent together and apparently deep in conversation. She looked up as we entered, sly smile on her face in an I-know-what-you’ve-been-up-to expression, but then her eyes widened in obvious Wow, Holy Shit! appreciation as she took in the sight of Mzatal up close.

Yeah, my boyfriend was pretty impressive. Especially as radiantly vibrant and super-charged as he was right now.

“Hey, Jill,” I said with a smile. “This is Mzatal. Mzatal, this is Jill.”

She managed to scrounge together some composure, stood and offered Mzatal a hand, though she was clearly trying hard not to stare. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Mzatal took her hand in both of his. “Jill Faciane,” he said with a small smile. “It is a pleasure to finally meet.”

Jill’s mouth dropped open, and I knew she felt the tingling vibration from super-charged Mzatal along with a good dose of his natural mojo.

She abruptly jerked and let out a small Oof! “Sorry,” she said with a shaky laugh as she put her other hand on her belly. “She’s a bit wiggly right now.”

Mzatal’s eyes dropped to Jill’s belly, and an odd expression came over his face, fascinated and perplexed at the same time. He tilted his head slightly, kept hold of her hand, and placed his other hand on her belly. His expression grew even odder, as if struggling to remember a phrase or saying that was on the tip of his tongue.

Silent, I watched the curious exchange. Surely Mzatal had encountered a pregnant woman before? Jill remained motionless and didn’t say a word about the somewhat rude business of touching her belly without permission, though I saw it in the slightly wary-but-baffled look in her eyes. Beneath their hands the baby kicked some more, to judge by Jill’s occasional winces. I sensed him extend, mentally touch the baby.

Rare, naked curiosity lit Mzatal’s face. His lips parted as he leaned closer, feeling the movement of the baby, and connecting on the non-physical level. He abruptly sucked in a gasping breath and straightened, face contorted in pain as he jerked his hands to his head and took a staggering step backward. I seized his arm to steady him.

“Mzatal!? What’s wrong?” I demanded, worry flaring as I sensed his excruciating pain. He let out a low groan and took another step back. I shot a look at Jill as she backed away in confusion. “You okay?” I asked. She blinked and nodded, and I immediately shifted my full worry and attention to Mzatal.

I snaked an arm around his waist. “Outside,” I said as I worked to maneuver him in that direction. “You do better outside. C’mon, Boss.”

He didn’t resist, but it took all of my effort to keep him steady. He nearly stumbled down the back steps, but grabbed onto the post in time to shift the fall into a heavy sit onto the steps.