Moonlight Captivation [Moon Shadows Book 1] (5 page)

"It's an ancient symbol of a man and woman joining for eternity."

"Really? How do you know that?” Nessa rose up on her elbows, looking at him with suspicion. “You didn't do it to me, did you?"

"Sweetness, I did many things to you that night, but this was not one of them.” He bent, kissing the tattoo. “It also means you are very special."

She blinked at him in confusion.
What is he talking
about?

"Oh, please, I'm not special; I'm just an ordinary ahhh...ooohhh...” Neman's fingers, finding the core of her desire and closing over her swollen nub, cut off anything else she was about to say.

"You don't think you deserve a man like me?"

His golden eyes intently regarded her. Her hips jerked off the bed, as he inserted a thick digit into her weeping heat. She couldn't talk, but managed to nod. Something about this man compelled her to be totally honest.

"Maybe I do not deserve a woman like you, my sweetness—we have much to learn together."

Plunging a second finger into her core, he slowly fucked her with his fingers— slow enough to make her tremble from need, yet not allow her release. She was not beyond begging.

"Neman, please,” she gasped.

"Tell me you are worthy of me and believe it."

His mouth found her breast and he took a large amount of it into his mouth, teeth scraping across her nipple, sucking in time with his thrusting fingers; the fire and ice running through her body was almost unbearable. Right now, he could ask her to tap dance, naked, on top of the Sydney Harbor Bridge, and she'd do it with a smile.

"I am, I am worthy of you. I want you, Neman.” Huffing out the words in little pants, she could almost feel him smiling. He released her breast with a soft “plop,” before his face disappeared between her legs. Nessa gasped in shock when his hot tongue swiped over her clit, circled it several times before sucking it into his mouth. Three long, successive pulls and a climax ripped through Nessa's body, while she screamed Neman's name to the heavens. He kept a firm grip of her hips while she bucked, his mouth releasing her clit to slide into her core and lap up the flowing cream, riding her through the intense orgasm. But it wasn't enough—she needed to be filled by him.

"Neman, please, I want you inside me."

"And I shall be, my sweetness."

He licked his lips, rising up over her and gripped onto her hips. He flipped her over, easier than a ragdoll, before pulling her up onto her hands and knees.

"Hold on to the headboard."

Excited at the new position, she scrambled to comply. At thirty-two, she hadn't a heck of a lot of sexual experience; she'd only ever done it missionary style and once on top, but was scrapped when she was informed she was too heavy for the position. His hands smoothed over the globes of her ass.

"Finer than the best alabaster, soft and round to fill my hand."

His teeth grazed across her ass cheeks, while his fingers ran down the crack of her ass.

"I've had your sweet, wet channel, now I want you here."

She gasped—it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. His fingers found the little, puckered rosette, his fingers sliding up and down. Nessa tensed.

"But I...I've never..."

"You're a virgin, here. Relax—I will not hurt you. I shall be the first and only one to enjoy you, a sweet virgin offering to the gods."

There was amusement in his voice. She trembled as he pushed his fingers into the slick opening of her pussy, losing the question which formed on the tip of her tongue.

"Would you like that, to have me take your virgin ass?"

Oh God yes!
She'd never thought it a place she would enjoy having filled, but he made everything he did and say sound so pleasurable. It was turning her on even more. He pulled juices from her dripping pussy, sliding them up and over to lubricate her hole before working a thick, male finger inside. Nessa groaned, pushing her ass back onto the finger.

"That's a good girl,” he whispered, withdrawing his fingers.

She yelped in surprise when she felt something cold and smooth slide over her ass crack. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw he held the strawberry body cream she used. How it got from her dresser into his hand, she didn't know. All thoughts flew from her mind as he worked the cream in, lubricating his fingers and her passage. She groaned louder when two fingers pushed inside.

"I see where you get this alluring scent from, sweetness."

All this talk and no action was driving her to the brink of madness. “Less talk, more sex,” she groaned, feeling her ass being stretched.

"Eager minx."

Once again, his fingers withdrew and were replaced by a larger pressure. Instinctively, Nessa pulled away, but Neman wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, his expert fingers finding her clit, and stroking the sensitive nub. She gasped, pushing back as he pushed his cock inside.

"By the Great God Anu, you are tight, my sweet one,” he groaned.

Nessa could hear the strain in his voice as he worked his way into her. She found the pressure was uncomfortable on one level, but not entirely. Nessa wanted more. Gently he pushed in, until he was seated deep inside her.

How in hell have I let a complete stranger fuck me twice?
Who cares, when it feels so fantastic?
The rest of her body winning the argument, she gave herself over to the feeling of being ass fucked by Mr... Well, whoever he was, she'd find out and deal with the consequences later.

"Aaaahhhhhhh oooh yessss, Neman!” she screamed out, as he tweaked her clit again. Every part of her body was striving to reach the highest peak. She wanted to rush toward the precipice and throw herself over with abandon.

"Harder, Neman, faster!” she cried out. The slap of his front on her ass filled the room, along with pants and groaning. The force of his thrusts making her wonder if she'd get friction burns on her knees. She went flying over the edge; every nerve end zinged and tingled, as stars exploded behind her eyes.

Neman growled deeply, as he came, declaring, “Yessss, Vanessa, you're mine!"

Oh yes, I am.
Her arms collapsed onto the bed, her ass still high in the air impaled on Neman's amazing cock. She felt him slip out and they both fell together.

He pulled her into his arms and gently kissed her.

"Are you all right?"

Nessa's whole body felt heavy and tired. Snuggling into Neman's warmth, all she could do was give an unintelligible murmur, as her mind fogged over and she fell into a deep sleep.

Plan A was all shot to hell; now, what was he going to do? He cursed himself for being unable to control his lust around her. He checked the steady rhythm of her heart, no doubt exhausted from too many climaxes so early on in her state. He climbed off the bed, heading into her overly pink decorated bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. Then he came back and gently washed her clean. He would have to take better care of her from now on. How was he was going to explain who he was, why she was pregnant? Not to mention the length of her pregnancy and the method of delivery. He sighed, he would figure it out when the time came, and he knew he would have to tell her, sooner or later.

He crawled back onto her bed, pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him, taking the time to let it absorb into his system, that his baby grew within her. The thought of having a family again never crossed his mind, since the theft of his powers and the death of his children. Finding the demons who'd taken his powers and exacting revenge consumed his every waking hour. Now things were changing once again. He had a new responsibility, whether he wanted it or not. Neman found himself wanting it. With Vanessa, he could have the things he'd been denying himself for thousands of years. He could not stop searching, nor would he give up his revenge. He'd just take a little detour. After all, immortality had its advantages. The only question which remained, is this a life she would want?

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It had taken him longer to locate Neman than usual. He sniffed the air, detecting Neman's scent on a bike parked not too far from where Slazzamar leaned against the red brick wall of an apartment block and brooded. After eight hundred years of being treated as an outcast, no one caring if he lived or died, why hadn't he developed a thicker skin against all the shit thrown at him? Only through hard work, determination and sheer hate was he able to pull himself out of the squalor of the Lower Realms.

He had learned quickly that information meant power. Slazzamar made it his purpose to obtain information, to know something about everyone significant in the Lower and Outer Realms. Important creatures were willing to pay nicely to gain the upper hand on their enemy, to have someone snoop, or inform on a betrayer. So Slazzamar the Sneak was born. Although he made himself a vital source of information to many creatures, he was still treated with distaste and hatred. Everything he knew came with a dirty price. He always put his own pleasures above anything else, but this time he was fed up. He wanted something different, to feel something different. He no longer wanted to be Slazzamar the Sneak.

His keen hearing picked up the sounds of passion, coming from the second-storey across the street. The deep growls of Neman and the moans and screams of pleasure from the woman he was fucking, softly echoed into the night.

Jealously ripped through him. For once in his pathetic life, he wanted someone to want him for himself and not just as a reward for his services. He was no longer going to fuck whores, eager to pay him with sex. Slazzamar's temper flared. He threw out a spell to dampen the noise before he poured his rage into destroying a nearby trashcan, kicking the metal object into a battered state. He didn't want to alert Neman that he was tracking him. If Slazzamar could easily track Neman, then others would as well—it was only a matter of time. He placed his hand against the cool of the brick wall and took a deep, calming breath.

"Whatever the bin did to you, I'm sure it deserved the beating it got,” a soft male voice said behind him.

Slazzamar spun around, ready to attack the intruder, but stopped short when a youthful-looking human male, with dusty blond hair and hazel eyes, walked toward him without any hint of fear, only a look of curiosity. He was dressed in some kind of white uniform. Slazzamar's gaze wondered over the younger man; he was pretty to look at with high cheekbones, a narrow nose and a strong jawline.

"The age-old question: if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? But how do you flatten a metal trashcan without making a sound?"

"I cast a spell,” Slazzamar said, before thinking.

"A spell? Now that's a neat trick—you'll have to show me how to do that."

A brown satchel hung from the stranger's left shoulder; his hazel eyes swept Slazzamar from head to toe.

"You have the most amazing color hair I've ever seen, not quite white and not quite silver. And your eyes, wow—what color is that, lavender?"

For the first time in his life, Slazzamar was dumbfounded by the stranger's words; never in his long life had he been complimented like this.

"Who are you?” Slazzamar asked. More to the point, why wasn't this human afraid of his appearance? It wasn't as if he looked exactly human with his elfin features. His white hair, skin tinged pink, and pointed ears were a dead giveaway, but this human didn't seem to notice.

"Darren Claymore at your service."

The man smiled at him, making his cheeks dimple on either side. He stuck out his hand, but Slazzamar made no move to touch him, his body reacting with a sudden surge of lust for the human. Touching him would be a mistake.

"I'm just on my way to visit a friend in the building across the street. Want to come with me?"

Slazzamar shook his head. Darren shifted his bag, stepping in closer to him. He was about half an inch shorter than Slazzamar. Slazzamar got his height from his father, the demon. Most elves were no more than five and a half feet tall. He sniffed at the human male, liking his spicy, sandalwood scent.

"Have you been to a
Star Trek
convention this evening?” Darren asked, his eyes fixed on Slazzamar's ears.

Slazzamar hadn't a clue what Darren was rambling about. He jumped back as Darren reached out, trying to touch him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” Darren said, his brow furrowed, gazing at Slazzamar in concern. His hand fell by his side.

This was another word Slazzamar was unfamiliar with—sorry. Slazzamar gazed at him in bemusement. He was confused and rather aroused by this man. Maybe this was some kind of trick, or test. The thought angered Slazzamar. He moved to grip Darren by the neck, shoving him roughly up against the wall, but not so hard as to hurt him, just enough to show his superior strength over the mortal and frighten him. “Have you come to test me, human?"

"I've only just met you.” Darren's pupils dilated with desire, and his breath quickened, as well as his pulse. Darren curled his hand around Slazzamar's bicep, as if he enjoyed the show of strength.

Slazzamar took note of his behavior. To this human, it was a turn-on to be pushed around. Darren's touch heated Slazzamar to the bone. His cock hardened further.

"I don't know anything about tests.” Darren's voice was lower, huskier.

"How do you know I won't tear you to pieces?"

The man was looking directly into his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Even though I just met you and don't even know your name, I trust you not to hurt me."

Darren was correct—he wouldn't harm this human. Slazzamar removed his hand from Darren's throat, but kept him caged in, his hands on either side of the man.

"I am Slazzamar. I am not human. Does it not frighten you?"

Darren shook his head. “You intrigue me. I've never seen anyone more beautiful in all my life. And if I have to believe you're not human, so be it."

Slazzamar took a step back in stunned silence.

Darren let out a slow breath, as if he needed to steady himself. “Look, I really need to see my friend, and if you want to wait out here, that's fine. After that, I was thinking we could go back to my place, get to know each other a little better."