Heart of Stone (3 page)

She drew him closer and let the very tip of him brush against her lips. He tasted unlike anything she'd ever known, like cool mountain springs and fresh air. Kestrel moaned and took him deeper. She ran her tongue along the shaft's ridges and veins, and drew circles around the head of his cock. He groaned and sank his fingers into her hair.

He filled her mouth, then more, and still she hadn't taken all of him. She let him slide back out of her mouth, sucking lightly. Just before he would have left her completely, she thrust forward and took him deep again.

His hands clenched in her hair and added pain to the sensations that already filled her. It heightened the pleasure until the two were one. Her own soft cries of arousal echoed Damaris's grunts as she worked her mouth over him.

One of her hands stole over the naked curve of her hip, fingertips softly caressing her skin. The roughness of the hair between her thighs met her fingers. She brushed through the curls gently and slid her fingers lower, into her heat. Wetness spilled over her fingers and she moaned and sucked harder at Damaris's cock. Her fingers worked over her clit, spreading the slickness over her sensitive flesh as another climax built within her.

Damaris's grunts became more insistent. She moved her fingers faster over her clit and her mouth more quickly over his cock, and brought herself to the edge of a shattering climax.

Damaris suddenly grabbed her hand. He pulled it from between her thighs and drew himself out of her mouth. She gave a disappointed cry and scowled up at him.

"What happened to 'whatever you want'?" she demanded. She jerked against his grip, but it held firm. She slid her other hand toward her clit. He grabbed that hand as well and spread her on the grass again, arms stretched overhead and pinned securely.

"You said you liked it rough."

"I do."

"How rough?"

She quirked an eyebrow at the challenge in his tone. "I can take what you dish out," she said. She raised her chin and gave him a confident look.

His grin flashed in the moonlight.

He skimmed his mouth along her throat, scraping her skin with his teeth. She shivered at the slight sting and knew that he was just getting started. His tongue circled her nipple, drew it into an erect peak. He pulled it into his mouth and caught it between his teeth. His gentle pressure slowly increased until she gasped beneath him. Arrows of heat shot straight from his bite to her groin.

She'd thought he couldn't make it more intense without breaking the skin. He drew back and pulled on her nipple, and proved her wrong. She felt her flesh stretch between them, felt the weight of her breast pulling on the sensitive nub. A moan caught in her throat. A flick of his tongue across the tip of her captured flesh turned her moan into a sharp cry. She twisted beneath him, desperate for release and staggered by how quickly he'd brought her back to the edge of climax.

Damaris shifted her wrists so that he held both in one hand. He cupped her other breast in his freed hand and massaged gently —then caught her nipple and rolled it sharply between his fingers. She screamed and bucked her hips beneath his.

"You said rough sex," she growled and jerked against his hold. "You've only fulfilled half the deal."

He released her breast from his mouth and gently licked the aching nub. "I'm getting there," he murmured. "We've got all night."

Kestrel tilted her head back. She looked toward the horizon and wondered how long they had until sunrise. Minutes? Hours?

The thought made her groan, and simultaneously sent a thrill of excitement through her. Could she endure this for hours longer? She looked up into Damaris's dark, intense gaze.

Would he give her a choice?

* * * *

Kestrel curled her hands into fists and jerked against Damaris's restraint. He's as solid as a rock, she thought. Pun fully intended.

His grin spread, as though he knew that she was just testing the waters, not really trying to escape. He twisted her nipple again and scraped his claws down her stomach.

When he'd fingered her before, he'd been careful to keep his claws out of the way. This time, he showed no such tenderness. Their sharp tips scraped along her folds, a promise of danger that made her shiver with anticipation. She caught her lip between her teeth and spread her legs further apart, allowing him greater access, giving tacit permission for him to do whatever he liked.

He pressed three fingers into her, filling her like he had before. He added a fourth, and followed it with his thumb. Her muscles burned as they stretched to accommodate him. Her breathing came fast and heavy. She whimpered and writhed beneath him, trying to force him deeper.

He paused and left her aching and desperate until she thought he'd changed his mind and had stopped completely. Kestrel arched her hips forward and drove him marginally deeper. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Please," she groaned. "Please, I need—“

He pushed further into her. Her muscles wrapped around his hand and held him tight within her. Her words dissolved into a broken moan. Tension tightened through her until she shook from it, but still the climax she needed remained elusive. He moved his hand in her with a powerful rhythm of thrust and withdrawal. Kestrel cried out and struggled against his restraint, burning with the need to touch him.

His hand and arm stretched her, thick and powerful—everything she desired in a lover. His knuckles kneaded her inner muscles. They wound her tighter and tighter with every thrust until she cared for nothing but the release she sensed coming. Her arms strained against him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

The pleasure built until she moaned and trembled beneath him, a breath away from climax. He stopped and pulled out of her. He left her untouched, but for his hand on her wrist and the heat that radiated off of his body. She swore and thrashed against him.

"Damn it! Are you going to let me come or not?"

"I am," he murmured. He pinned her hips to the ground and stretched out on top of her. He nudged her knees apart with his indomitable strength. His cock nuzzled against her entrance, hot and wet from the anticipation of this moment. "I want to be inside you. I want to hold you in my arms as you climax." His gaze remained locked with hers. "I want to see your face."

"I couldn't agree more," she breathed, and lifted her mouth to his.

He thrust into her, filled her. The length and girth of his cock stretched her more than any man ever had. Every stroke cascaded through her and left her shaking in its wake. She arched and pressed her shoulders into the ground, her hips into his. He thrust into her with heavy strokes. He filled her with his massive cock and withdrew almost completely before he plunged back into her.

She couldn't breathe, but it didn't matter. Passion and lust formed a noose around her that tightened with every movement. It was insanity to continue, but she couldn't stop. She didn't want to. Damaris's pebbly skin abraded Kestrel's flesh as he caressed her. His hands covered her breasts, trailed down her stomach and slid lower to knead her belly and hips. He didn't bother to sheathe his claws, but the pain only heightened her pleasure.

Damaris pulled back and broke the kiss. He looked down at her, his gaze burning into hers, and brought his claws to his mouth. He carefully licked her blood from each of them before bringing his mouth back to hers. Kestrel tasted herself on him, her sweat, her juices, her blood, and the darkness of pure, complete lust enveloped her.

He was just as lost as she was. She saw it in his eyes, felt it in the grip of his hands and the thrust of his cock. Finesse, technique, and timing didn't matter now--only pleasure. The next breath, the next thrust, the next moment. That was enough. That was all.

He dragged her to the edge of climax again, but this time she brought him with her. With hands, lips, and teeth, they caught one another up in a trap that had only one escape.

They fell together, wrapped in each other's embrace. Damaris thrust into her one last time, locking their hips together. Their hands found one another, their fingers intertwined, their muscles strained against each other and the force of their climax. Intoxicating power filled her, tore control from her grasp. Her body jerked and writhed against Damaris. She screamed as her orgasm exploded through her, and Damaris slammed into her one last time. He groaned and spilled himself within her.

Kestrel gasped and shuddered with the last, lingering aftershocks that pulsed through her. Damaris lay collapsed on top of her, arms and wings both wrapped tightly around her. He rested his cheek against her breast . Slowly, she flexed beneath him and stretched her shoulders, back, and hips to make sure she was still in one piece.

She felt hammered and bruised. Her muscles protested as she stretched them, and she found a few spots of flesh that had been rubbed raw in the course of things. She relaxed back into the grass with a sigh and a sated smile.

"That was much better than some stupid party."

Damaris lifted his head from her breast and looked at her, but there was no pleasure or levity in his expression. Kestrel's smile faded, and she brought a hand to his face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"That was beautiful, Kestrel."

She placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You look upset."

He nodded, but didn't elaborate. He pushed himself off of her with a deep sigh. For the first time, she felt the chill of the night air, and wrapped her arms over her breasts. "What's wrong?" she asked again. "Did I—“

He shook his head, cutting her off. "No. You did nothing wrong. Kestrel..." He sighed again and slid the backs of his fingers along her cheek. She shivered at the gentle caress. "Do you know how long I've lived? Have you any idea?"

One of her usual sarcastic retorts rose to her lips, but because he seemed like he needed honesty, not flippancy, she fought it back and said simply, "No."

"Millenia. More years than I can count. Every All Hallows' Eve, I have held a mortal woman in my arms the way I held you tonight. I have seen countless faces transformed in the throes of ecstasy—and the sum of every woman that has come before is not enough to touch the beauty I saw within your face when you lost control."

Desperate to ease his ache, Kestrel pressed kisses across his chest. He pulled away and moved back to his pedestal with laboriously slow movements, as though he carried a tremendous weight. She hesitated, but followed him after a moment and stared up into his face. "I still don't understand, Damaris."

"It is my curse. I made a mistake long ago, and this is the price I pay for it. One night, Kestrel. That's all I am allowed. One night to spend with another, and the rest of the year encased in stone amongst the dead."

The agony in his voice made her heart ache in sympathy. She grabbed hold of the pedestal's edge and pulled herself up to stand with him. He gave her a startled look. She threw her arms around his neck and he stiffened against her. "Tell me," she whispered against the muscled curve of his shoulder. "What happened? What mistake did you make that's worth this price?"

His expression twisted with scorn, though whether it was at himself, or the price he had been made to pay, or her questions about it, she couldn't have said. "I fell in love with my king's concubine."

Kestrel stared at him, slack-jawed. "Love? This is the fate you've been bound to, just for love?"

"Not exactly." His expression twisted further. "He'd have forgiven me, if it had just been love. He'd have even forgiven me for seducing her, I think, but not for getting her with child. He had been trying to conceive an heir for over two decades, and I accomplished what he could not. That was my true crime. And this is my sentence, to live in this stone body, trapped by his magic."

"Christ," Kestrel muttered. "How long do you have to endure this?"

"Forever." He said the word with an immeasurable amount of sadness. "There is no end. He will never forgive me, and I will never be free."

Her eyes widened. She would have said something, but he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back. "It's morning," he said in an agonized whisper. "You must go. Thank you for this night, Kestrel."

"Wait–" She reached for him, but her fingers encountered only cold, lifeless marble. She stared up at his frozen face, stricken. She ached for him, and her inability to do anything for him. Slowly, she pulled herself up into his arms like she had hours earlier. She pressed a kiss to his stony cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

The sun edged over the horizon and cast its fierce light across the cemetery. She grimaced at the glare and dropped to the ground. With a final pat on the curved sweep of his wing, she made her way to the gate at the entrance and the world beyond.