Warning Rated PG+18 Jayson let the music carry him away from his thoughts and back to what he knew was his world. Back to sanity and peace. To Jessa. His fingers flitted across the keys, pouring emotion and fire into his concerto, picturing her in his imagination, her beautiful red hair cascading around him like a silken, flaming cascade. His hands were sliding over her body, bringing her into his, sculpting and remembering every sweet curve, her skin so soft, pale in the night, rose petals in the candlelight. He closed his eyes and made love to her with music, joining them in his thoughts without realising it. Each note was a brush, a caress, a present for her. The song was his love message, which he could never completely express, but this instrument could and did, the music rising with his own passion. Jessa observed Jayson's performance, his head bowed over the piano, eyes closed, his body swaying as the music passed through him, out his hands, and into the instrument. She st
Jason’s tongue slid over her fold in a long, gentle, very passive stroke, as if they had all the time in the world and he was enjoying himself thoroughly. Her whole body pulled tautly, twitched, and she groaned low in the back of her throat. He found those little whimpers and murmurs rippled through his entire body and fortified him even more. Each time he aroused a sweet little moan, he felt it was a claiming of her, a branding, his mark, his essence, his feat, giving her satisfaction, wrapping her up in sensual paradise. He kissed her, tasted her, and then impaled her deeply, wholly at odds with his earlier slow attention. She nearly shook in awe. "Oh God, Jay." She groaned. His name hissed out between her teeth, another breathy little cry that rippled through his whole body. Her face and body were glowing with arousal, her eyes nearly dark, so glazed and bewildered that he wished to keep her like that, head twisting desperately from side to side, her hips soaring, searching for
The next day. Jayson grumbled and moved his head to stare out the window at the rising sun. In the small living room, he was sprawled on his back on the thick carpet in front of the fireplace. The majority of the candles had burned out, and a few were completely out. He inhaled the aroma of lavender and sex that hung heavily in the air. It was a powerful scent, and his body wanted her more although he'd been making love to her all night. Jessa lay draped over his body, her breasts across his thighs, her lips against his shaft, her hands cupping his balls. Every breath she drew, every time she exhaled, he felt it against his softened shaft. His shaft jerked and pulsed in time to her breathing, but Jayson lay limp and drained, basking in the aftermath of the best sex he’d ever had. If he’d had anything at all left in him, he would have been all over her, but he couldn’t move. He could only lie there feeling absolute satisfaction. Pure contentment. He wanted to wake up every morning for
Trevor’s Lair"I planned to enjoy my freedom, Rhye," Lily mumbled."It’s more than just freedom." His hand lifted to cup the nape of her neck, gently massaging her tense muscles. "You’ll have to survive in a world you know very little about." She struggled to be annoyed by his patronising words. Something that would be a hell of a lot easier if she weren’t drowning in a flood of sensuous need.“I can learn. I'm not stupid.” She certainly moaned those words."No, you’re extraordinarily smart, love." His lips brushed her temple. "Smart enough to know that a lone witch is the most vulnerable. Why not accept the assistance of those who only want to help you?" She swallowed a groan of pleasure. Damn, that mouth was wicked."My beloved twin? Thanks, but no thanks."He nicked the lobe of her ear. "We both know that you and Livia are one. My secret den in the south is well protected, although not nearly as elegant as Trevor's.""Nothing about her is elegant." She addedLily stilled. He kissed
It was not easy to vanquish a werewolf who was as powerful as Rhye. His powers were terrifying, his intelligence formidable, and the sheer force of his will could overcome the most fearsome adversaries. But there was no getting away from the fact that he had been well and truly brought to his knees by a bad-tempered, unpredictable, aggravatingly beautiful witch. Tucking Lily’s head beneath his chin, Rhye wrapped her tightly in his arms, his gaze ruefully taking in the shards of glass and shattered pictures scattered over the rugs. He never lost control. Certainly not during sex. Not that what he’d just shared with Lily was just sex. It was... hell, he didn’t even have a word for the astonishing sensations that continued to quake through his body. A werewolf would sacrifice everything for his pack, clan, sanity, and every soul to claim such joy. Unfortunately, Lily wasn’t anxious to have anyone lay claim to her. Especially not an arrogant, overprotective werewolf who had the social ski
“Come on, dear. I haven’t bothered adorning it at all.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” “It didn’t seem necessary.” Coming to a sudden halt, Rhye cupped her face and stole a swift, frustrated kiss. Lifting his head, he met her startled gaze. “Until now.” Her lips parted with a scathing statement, but before she could catch her breath, he was stepping into the Control Room and speaking to the neon-haired werewolf on patrol. “We need transportation, asap.” The warrior with his strange colour combination of hair shaved close to his head, and his large body covered with a variety of weapons, rose to his feet, clearly under orders to offer Rhye whatever he needed. “Follow me, alpha.” Wryly marvelling at what Trevor would demand in compensation for his hospitality, Rhye followed the werewolf across the room. Waiting for the attendant to push open a narrow door, he wasn’t shocked to discover the enormous underground garage that held a half dozen glistening automobiles. Many Rangers poss
Stephen, the little demon kicked a stray rock as he wandered along the edge of the town’s river. He’d caught the foul scent of an elf hours ago and had eagerly been on the hunt since. Elfy, the little elf, would pay. Bloody bastard. He'd been convinced that this was his chance to prove Dimitri, the council's leader. His joy was quickly turned to annoyance as the trail led him on a seemingly endless goose chase through the mud and muck that this town generated in plenty. For the umpteenth time, he pondered dropping out of this werewolf-helping business and retiring to a beautiful peaceful location in the mountains or the south. The humidity did nothing for his skin. After all, it wasn’t like the cold-blooded Alpha Rhye actually appreciated his spectacular skills. The alpha barely acknowledged he was a full-blooded demon, let alone treated him with the respect or dignity that was his due. So why was he tromping through the nasty weeds, following an even nastier demon or elf scent, whe
Lily shivered, absently rubbing her hands over her bare arms. The chill in the air had nothing to do with the rawd spring breeze and everything to do with the very large, very annoyed werewolf stalking silently behind her. Not that she was about to apologize. She hadn’t asked for his interference. And she most certainly didn’t ask to be treated like a helpless bimbo who had to be tucked away in a safe lair while Rhye played superhero. She was the one who Francisco had harmed and tormented her for years, using her blood to regain his power. She was the one who had dreamed night after night of ripping out the demon’s throat. She was the one who’d tracked the bastard to this neighbourhood. This was her fight, and by God, she was going to see it to the bitter end. And her wicked reaction to his protective instincts had nothing at all to do with the fear that the stunning pleasure she’d felt in Rhye’s arms had given him a power over her that was as ruthless and eternal as Rhye himself.Sh