Fairyville (18 page)

The guest room was on the opposite end of the house from Zoe's bedroom, both the living room and kitchen lying between. There should have been privacy aplenty, but with the windows open and the night so clear, Zoe couldn't help but hear the escalating masculine groans.

Her guests were in the shower. Zoe knew this because the pipes in her sixty-year-old house always sounded like Niagara Falls. Sadly, the torrent wasn't loud enough to drown out the moans of rising pleasure-pain. Those were the kind of cries people made when they really,
really
wanted release. Given the somewhat twisted nature of her kinks, she didn't know whether to burrow under a pillow or listen harder. Alex and Bryan were screwing in her house, despite her and Alex's history, either so inconsiderate that it didn't occur to them to be quiet, or so overwhelmed by their needs that they'd forgotten to.

Zoe's hands clenched on the sheets like she meant to rip them, her own needs coiling tight inside. She was not going to let this get to her. She wasn't so pathetic that she was going to do herself while her old boyfriend did his lover. She didn't care how long it had been since she'd had a man. She was not turning Alex and Bryan into her masturbation aid.

Groaning, she turned onto her belly, her eyes screwed shut against the images in her mind. Was Alex as big and smooth as she remembered? Could Bryan get his friend's erection all the way into his mouth? Did Alex like being on top as much as he used to? She pulled a pillow over her head, then shoved it off as someone began to come.
Bryan
, she thought. She remembered how Alex sounded, and that wasn't it. Then Alex's strangled snarl split the darkness, and she knew she'd guessed correctly.

No more than a minute later, the noises started up again.

With a muffled curse, Zoe flopped onto her back. Kinks be damned. No way were Alex and Bryan spending another night.

A tap on her window had her sitting up with a gasp.

"Magnus! What are you doing here?"

The casement was open to catch the breeze. Her manager pushed up on his arms and swung one long leg inside, his yellow shoe just missing her houseplants. Zoe heart began to beat faster as she yanked the sheets over her breasts. All she had on were a short-sleeved cotton T-shirt and clean panties.

A wish flew through her mind that she were wearing something small and slinky and feminine. She squashed it down with sheer force of will.

"I don't recall inviting you in," she said coolly.

"Well, lucky I'm not a vampire and you don't have to."

He was in her room then, him and his sullen attitude—which, considering how he'd treated her, showed a lot of nerve. He crossed his arms over his powerful chest. "You sent me home tonight because you didn't want to talk our problems through."

"And if I still don't want to?"

She must have been seeing him with more than ordinary sight, because his eyes abruptly seemed to flare, green as phosphorus in the shadowed room.

"Fine with me. I'd rather show you how I feel."

For such a big man, he was unfairly fast. He moved too quickly for her to evade him, bounding onto her bed and pulling her to her knees. The sheet fell down her body with a hiss. She thought he'd kiss her, but all he gave her was a little shake.

"Your guests are rude," he said, "and obviously idiots."

"Yeah, well,
they
were invited."

He did kiss her then, and it was hot and angry and absolutely spine-melting. She knew she should have been madder than she was. Only a masochist would let him start this up with her again, especially with the reminder of a very similar mistake getting luck)' in her guest bathroom. But when he kissed her with those heated satin lips, when he wrapped that incredible energy of his around her, her resistance shredded like tissue.

The things he did with his tongue, the way he downright fucked her with it, made her moan with hunger and grab his back. The arm he'd wrapped around her waist felt like it was all that held her up, but—oh—did it feel good doing it! He was pressing her against all his hardness—chest, groin, thighs—and if she hadn't been so weak-kneed from his exploration of her mouth, she'd have climbed high enough to rub more than her belly button against his target zone. The size and heat of his erection went to her head. It
was
a freaking python, and she wanted every inch of it. When he finally released her lips, the room was spinning.

"You're wearing your sneakers on my bed," she said faintly.

"Zoe." He made her name a synonym for exasperation. "Exactly how long do I have to kiss you before you forget to pay attention to things like that?"

Her heart was pounding hard enough to shake her breasts, her pussy aching with the need he'd twisted into something truly ferocious. Still, she tried to gather her pride. "I need more than kisses to forget how you left me hanging earlier."

He shook her again, his hands so large a tremor that wasn't exactly fear ran across her shoulders in an aftershock. Oh, she so didn't want to know he could get to her in more ways than he already had.

"I care about you Zoe," he said. "Whatever else you doubt, don't doubt that."

"I thought you didn't want to talk. I thought you wanted to show me." She tossed her head, and her hair fell out of its pins in a curling mass. What she could see of Magnus's face went grim.

"Oh, I'm going to show you, Zoe. I'm going to show you until you scream."

"Yeah?" she said. "You've had two years to show me. All I'm hearing now are more words."

He made a noise like a growl, which streaked straight from her ears to her sex. Then, with a swiftness that left no room for protest, he ripped her T-shirt up her body, over her head, and down her arms. Zoe was left gasping into her fallen hair. By the time she got it behind her again, Magnus's big, hot hands were covering her breasts. Her body stilled as he squeezed the small rounded flesh, whatever snippy retort she'd meant to fling forgotten in the pleasure of his energy tingling down the nerves that led from her nipples.

"So beautiful," he said in a tone of awe as he caressed her. "So fucking beautiful."

Her pussy creamed for him, overrunning her tender folds and ruining her fresh panties. Sadly, her pride wasn't any harder to dissolve.

"Magnus," she sighed, her voice all breath.

He lifted his gaze for one tight-wired, glittering perusal of her face before his seal-black lashes dipped again. He squeezed her nipples between his fingers, hard enough to make them pulse sharply. Then he bent to lick one tip slowly. His tongue felt like it was painting her in fire and ice, tickling, teasing, until every molecule of air sighed out of her lungs.

"Sighs are good," he breathed into her shivering flesh, "but I think you can do better than that for me."

She did better as soon as his mouth covered one aching peak. That wrenched a whimper from her throat. He was too damn good at this. She'd always been sensitive, but what he and his energy did to her was unreal. He rolled her nipple against his teeth and licked it, first around the areola and then the tip. He sucked her breasts like they were perfect, and he'd never tasted anything so good. His breath rushed damply against her skin as he mounded both within the circles of his hands, turning from one breast to the other as if he couldn't settle on his favorite. The greedy sounds he made had her squirming uncontrollably. Finally, he flicked her so quickly with the point of his tongue that her clit twitched wildly with sympathy.

The sensation almost tumbled into orgasm.

"My God, you're sexy," he said, breaking free to gasp and lower her to the covers. Since every muscle she possessed was in the process of going limp, his timing couldn't have been better.

He really was enough to make a woman lose her head, and Zoe was swiftly losing interest in keeping hers. Moaning, she thrust her hands into his thick black hair.

Her clutching him closer seemed to be his signal to advance. His right hand left her breast. She heard buttons popping and a zipper's rasp—
his
zipper. He grunted as he worked to tear off his shirt and jeans without releasing her.

Her heart rate jumped into higher gear. The sound of him wrestling from his clothes had to be the best thing she'd heard all night.

Determined to meet him on the other side of naked, she wriggled out of her panties. He paused for a second when he realized what she was doing, then helped her pull them down her legs, his suckling now twice as strong as before. He was taking more of her in his mouth, was scraping her with the wider flat of his tongue.

Yes
, she thought, arching helplessly toward him.
This is more like it
. She was on the edge again, so close to coming that the suspense was like a pre-climax.

The only problem was that her eagerness had discombobulated him. His funny yellow high-tops hung him up enough to curse against her breast. It seemed he'd forgotten to remove them before his jeans. Grinning at this sign that he was human and not a perfect sex machine, she slid one hand from its grip on his hair to his bare shoulder. She'd intended the caress to reassure Mm that he could take his time, but as soon as that smooth warm skin met her palm, she couldn't resist touching more.

Oh, this was a good male back. This was shifting muscle and hardness. This was velvet skin and big, strong ribs that expanded to fill his lungs. She slid her fingertips down his spine with a purr of pleasure, stopping only when she reached the rounded muscles of his clenching butt.

She needed both hands to admire that.

"Zoe," he said with a throatiness that delighted her. "You're distracting me."

"Mm," she said, not at all apologetic. "You feel so good."

She pulled his kiss up to her mouth again. He groaned when he obeyed her urging, his tongue tangling with hers, his hand moving down the length of her side. He'd been hovering over her, but now his palm flattened on the mattress as he eased his lower body down. Both his legs straddled one of hers, their hair and muscle a stark reminder of his maleness. She jerked when the heat of his erection met her thigh. He was naked. And huge. And throbbing like half his blood had run to his cock. He settled his balls against her carefully, and the intimacy of that one movement made her sigh blissfully.

"Oh, boy," she said. "Am I ready for you!"

His hand cruised up her body to mold her breast again, then changed direction to drag a trail of fire down her front. She could tell he was up against the edge of craziness with her. He was breathing like a steam train, and, God, his aura was strong. She felt like he was touching her even after his hand had passed.

Where his caress was headed was just as good. His fingers combed through her pubic curls, sliding deep between her legs to cover all her mound. That big hand of his was enough to make any female feel small. Maybe he liked the contrast, too, because first cupping squeeze drew a groan from him.

"You have no idea," he said, the words a match rasping on stone, "how long I've been ready for you."

His hand trembled when he said it, but he was lost in shadow above her. She wanted to believe him so much it hurt.

"Turn on the light," she said, giving in to the urge. "I need to see your face when you tell me something like that."

He hesitated, then reached past her for the bedside lamp. The bulb wasn't bright, but he took a moment to lift his head. For a second, all that hit her was how freaking beautiful he was. And then she saw. His eyes were sheened with tears, honest-to-goodness, ready-to-spill-over tears.

He was telling the truth. He had been yearning for her.

A shock ran through her to see it, along with wonder that he could feel so much without her knowing it.

"Why?" she asked, her hand rising to his cheek. The bruise from his fall was fading, the skin around it only slightly hot. "Why would you wait so long to be with me if you felt like this?"

He closed his eyes. "Please don't ask me that. Please just trust that I want you to be happy."

"Magnus…"

"Please." He kissed her, his lips as gentle as a dream on hers. His hand moved back to cup her pubis. The length of his fingers pressed just a little between her lips. Knowing how wet she was made this a tad embarrassing, but his hold felt oddly protective. "Please trust me."

She couldn't trust him, not quite, but she also couldn't turn away. If it was true… If he did care for her…

She gave her head a little shake. It would have been better if he hadn't turned serious. She could have kept her guard up, could have stayed just a bit angry.

He's going to break my heart
, she thought, but she wrapped her arms around him anyway.

Quite possibly Magnus had been insane when he convinced himself to crash Zoe's party. He'd spent an hour pacing down his house's long window, fuming about her old boyfriend. Not once had he tried to calm himself. Not once had he asked the Will-Be for help. Decisions made under those conditions were bound to be rash, but he hadn't given a damn. He couldn't leave his beloved alone with two men, not when one of them was a changeling who knew more about what pleasured her than Magnus did.

Now he wondered what his rashness had gotten him into. Yes, it was wonderful to feel her hold him and to be spoken to sweetly again, but neither of these boons resolved anything.

The only promise he could give her was pleasure. The knowledge that she longed for more than pleasure nearly broke his heart. Of course, he couldn't doubt she wanted what he could offer. Her body wept for it, the pearly sleekness running into his cupping palm. Praying physical gratification would be enough, he returned his mouth to her small, ripe breasts—gentle, tender—and slid one careful finger into her channel.

She moaned for him, her spine rolling strongly with arousal, her hips coming up to drive him deeper. She was soft inside, was wet and swollen and tight. The feel of her was more than Magnus's fairy instincts could tolerate. Swollen to its limit, pain speared through his cock with its next hard throb. He clenched his jaw and ignored it. He couldn't risk sliding inside her even for a minute; other parts of her, but not this, not with her so blessedly ready to love him, not with her precious heart swimming in her eyes. He would spill himself the instant she came, and from the hungry kitten noises she was making, that wasn't going to be long.