Hell's Kitty (Welcome To Hell) (12 page)

He withdrew and plunged deep again then held it. It felt great. He stretched her so nicely. He fit so snugly. But as she wiggled around, she couldn’t help but want a little more action from him. “What are you waiting for?”

“Didn’t someone want lessons on riding?”

Say what?

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

With pleasure, since it drew
him even deeper inside. She’d no sooner locked her ankles around his back than he walked them to the bed. He sat them down, him on the edge of the mattress, her astride him, still penetrated by his cock. Fingers digging into her cheeks, he bounced her.

Oh my.

Again. Up and down he jostled her, the jolt each time she seated herself pushing him in far, far enough to touch something sensitive inside. A sweet spot that made her gasp. It also caused her channel to squeeze around his shaft, his very thick shaft.

Long gone were any previous misconceptions and the unsatisfying experience
from her past lover. This was sex. This was pleasure. This was … oh my freaking—

She never did finish that thought. Couldn’t, not when he began to bounce and grind her faster and faster, sucking all her breath at the intensity of the ecstasy, draining her of coherent thought, coiling and building a wave of delight until it burst, a cascading
, orgasmic wave that crashed through her. Swept her along for a blissful journey that saw her tilting her head back and letting out a scream of pure joy.

How utterly
glorious.

And still he thrust, her atop him riding as he reached his own pinnacle and crested
, triggering a second smaller orgasm, which didn’t draw forth a scream but a sigh of utter contentment.

As she collapsed in his arms, not even the distant screaming—
oops, I guess I should have put the amulet back on after my shower
—could diminish her pleasure in what they’d indulged.

Even more marvelous, she discovered sex with her ankles locked around his shoulders and on her knees from behind also had
its merits.

Luckily for the inhabitants of the rooms around them, she remembered to wear her magical talisman
during those pleasurable bouts, else the fortress might have found itself short a few inhabitants in the morning given her enthusiastic shouts.

The following morning saw no change in the status of the portal. It still wasn’t working
, and none of the Amazons, not even the elder, could fathom why.

But Felipe harbored his own suspicions. How timely, and inconvenient, that just as they required the quickness of a portal, the closest one available was suddenly
nonoperational. Only idiots believed in coincidences.

Calls to the Dark Lord still went unanswered, and the voicemail he’d left didn’t merit a return call. It seemed Felipe would have to take Jenny overland, and lucky him—NOT!—he wouldn’t do so alone
.

No amount of argument would sway Valasca from traveling with them. Tasked with going to the capital to relay firsthand the problem with the portal and to demand—as if the
independent warriors would stoop to asking—for a fix to the problem meant Felipe would have to temper his acts and words to Jenny.

As if
he even knew what he’d say. They’d spent a glorious night. More than glorious. They’d connected sexually, but Felipe, actually his cat, had almost done more than that. The bloody feline had tried to mark her! He’d even gone so far as to drop fang during the act. Thank fuck she’d not noticed. But still, that kind of lack of control was freaky to say the least.

What happened to living the single life? He’d thought his inner beast content with their lifestyle. Wenching and adventuring. It was the dream of so many
, and he loved it, didn’t he?

Never mind he hated going home to an empty apartment. Forget the fact that he begged meals at Ysabel’s table more often than was seemly for a tom his age. And
he’d kill anyone who dared to remark on the fact that he smiled whenever he saw fathers out and about with their young, tossing them in the air to catch as the tots giggled, or how he envied those teaching their sons life lessons such as how to pee in the alleys without getting it on their feet.

Living his life as he chose without anyone to answer to, no one to harangue him about leaving his socks on the floor, and enjoying a different flavor o
f pussy whenever the fancy struck, that was the true dream. So what if, at times, it was lonely, and he felt … unsatisfied? Alcohol had ways of minimizing that effect.

And why was he even worrying about what he’d say to Jenny? She’d barely spared him a glance since they’d left the privacy of the room they’d shared.
Her casual ignoring should have relieved him. Instead, he was kind of offended.

Usually, he couldn’t keep women off him. It was why he preferred their place to his. They couldn’t track him down once he slunk off. So shouldn’t he rejoice in the fact that Jenny wasn’t clinging to him like a bloody
hellyfish? That she didn’t give him woeful hellhound eyes or pout with that delectable lower lip?

Just a day ago, he might have blamed her lack of response on her fear of causing harm with her
voice. However, her needed bubble of silence was a thing of the past. With the amulet the shaman—or was that shawoman?—gave Jenny, she blossomed and chattered away with the Amazons, asking questions, laughing, and smiling wider than he’d ever seen. He guessed the burden of having people kill themselves when she spoke would feel onerous, and he was glad she’d found a reprieve from her curse. He just wished he could have been the one to bring her such joy and he glowered as she gossiped animatedly with everyone but him.

Despite her fear about riding, Jenny took well
to the saddle. He’d like to think the practice the night before atop him—fuck, how glorious she looked with her hair streaming down her back, her eyes half lidded as she rode him in wild abandon—had something to do with it, but the gentle Hellmare they’d given her might have played a minor part. The older beast plodded along, the fires of her youth tempered to coals. Not so the horse they gave him. The damned stallion pranced and danced, fighting him every step of the way.

The antics of his steed
amused Valasca, who didn’t bother hiding her snicker every time his damned beast tossed its head and, with smoke curling from its nostrils, reared in an attempt to jolt him off. Like that would happen. Felipe grimly held on, fists wrapped around the reins, knees pressed tight against its sides. He won, but not for one minute did he let his guard down.

For Hell, the day was surprisingly nice. The
sifting ash wasn’t too heavy in this part of the ring, just a light dusting that a gentle breeze carried away. The road, more a worn trail of compact dirt, remained clear of obstacles and bandits. They made good time, such good time they ignored the accommodations in town and pressed on, more because Valasca goaded him than because of a pressing need for speed.

“Does the soft kitty need a bed to sleep?”

Pride wouldn’t let him scream “Yes!” So on they forged, making camp by the road and relying on the loaned bedrolls and a fire they built to stay comfortable because, Hell or not, when night fell, while the temperature remained pretty much the same, the darker creatures of the night woke and roamed. Fire often proved a deterrent but, more importantly, if stoked with the right fuel, gave them light, a light that glinted off any watching eyes.

The first night passed without incident
—and no sex. Which was fine with Felipe. Since when did he go back for seconds? Then again, other than his foster mother, how often could he say he’d spent more than a few hours in a woman’s company? Jenny was the first he’d ever really gotten to know, and like.

They each took a turn on watch, Jenny getting first watch, the safest one. The Amazon g
ave him second, where he spent too much time checking on his green-haired temptress as she slept—her hand tucked under her cheek, a vision of loveliness he longed to debauch.

Third watch was Valasca’s.

While off in the distance things rustled, howled, growled and in general made their presence known, nothing came too close. A shame. Fresh meat for breakfast would have been nice.

When morning came, t
hey made do with dried rations and continued on, Jenny chatting with Valasca, him bringing up the rear, brooding. Sulking. Depressed.

And not doing a good job of hiding it.

When they stopped at a river to refresh themselves and their mounts, Valasca broached it while Jenny kept an eye on the horses, who lapped hungrily from the riverside.

“Why does the kitty look like he’s lost his favorite toy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do. Only a blind idiot or
, in this case, a naïve one called Jenny, wouldn’t notice the fact you’re upset about something. I’ll bet I can guess what.”

As if he’d admit he pined after a woman.
“I’m not upset, just perplexed that after the problems we had leaving the isle, Jenny’s enemies seem to have given up.”

Shading her eyes so she could better stare at the road behind them, Valasca replied,
“Perhaps they realized it was futile to stop her.”

“Doubtful.”
The storm they survived was no minor thing. Why launch such a major attack unless they meant serious business? Felipe’s gut didn’t trust the ease of their trip. His gaze strayed over to where Jenny stroked the mane of her mare. No way was he letting her out of his sight. “I think her enemies are just biding their time. We need to stay alert and watch for a possible ambush.”

“From where?”

Valasca gestured at the flat plains around them. This part of the circle bore little in way of cover, the dryness of the land and the sparseness of habitation meaning they could see for almost miles around.

“I’m not saying they’re going to attack in the next minute, just that it
’s possible and we should remain vigilant.”

“
I’m always on guard. And you are using the obvious to ignore my question. Why are you moping? It is plain to see you desire Jenny. So why aren’t you doing something about it?”

Plain to everyone but Jenny apparently.
“Well, for one, I’m not into an audience.”

Valasca snorted. “As if I’m interested in watching.
”

“Still, I think Jenny would prefer privacy.”

“Lame excuse. You’re a player. Players always find ways to have sex, no matter the circumstance.”

True. “I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. As you noticed, Jenny is kind of inexperienced when it comes to men. While we did have sex that one time
back in your village, I’m worried that repeat encounters will have her thinking the wrong thing.”

“So you abstain so as to not hurt her feelings?”

He nodded.

“Admirable, but stupid.”

“How is it stupid to not want to lead her on?”

“The girl is already taken with you. Whether you have sex or not, that won’t change
, so all you’re doing is punishing both of you. Actually, this might be worse. When you part, she’ll only have her one encounter with you to remember. To place on a pedestal. Whereas, having sex numerous times would allow her to sate her attraction to you, notice you have faults, and when the time comes, possibly feel a sense of relief that there’s an easy way to end things.”

“
Hold on a second, are you saying she needs to have copious sex with me so she can, in effect, discover what a jerk I am and get bored of my technique?”

“Yes. It’s what happens with all my lovers. The first time you fuck, it’s got the element of newness. The second time, it scratches an itch that tries to recapture that feeling. By the third and
fourth, you’re going through the motions. By the fifth, you don’t want to be bothered by what he wants, you just need a quick release.”

“And by the sixth?”

“He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Felipe snorted. “Let me guess. Bereft at getting dumped, the guys kill themselves rather than face a life without you?
Is someone a little conceited?”

“No, they’re dead because I give them an impossible quest to get back into my pants to prove their love to me
, a quest they fail.”

“That seems fucking cold.”

“Not my fault they’re weak. If they were strong enough to be my mate, they would be able to accomplish the task I set them.”

“And just what task is that?”

Before he could find out, Jenny’s shrill scream interrupted. He glanced at the river, only to realize that while he’d conversed with the Amazon, Jenny had moved farther downstream, just out of sight.

Dammit.

They both took off at a run, Valasca drawing her sword, him stripping clothes.

At Jenny’s second shrill cry for help, his cat burst out of his skin and roared.
A horse whinnied, a panicked cry cut off short and replaced by a more ominous silence. The thin bushes bordering the sluggish moving river couldn’t completely screen the unfolding drama.

I am so fucking stupid.
When Jenny declared she could water the horses on her own, he’d checked the riverbank. He’d sniffed the air. Perused the ground for tracks. Seen no sign of danger. None. Or at least none on the surface.

He’d
not taken into account that the shallow river, waist deep at the most, could hide the enemy. In his defense, this far inland from the ocean, he’d not expected an aquatic attack.

A rookie mistake.
A deadly miscalculation. A problem he needed to rectify was his final thought before he soared through the air intent on tackling the biggest problem—which wasn’t the eight Undines surrounding Jenny and the two still living horses. Nope. He was going after the electrical eel that sizzled and sparked as it wound its sinuous coils around the corpse of Jenny’s poor mare.

This is going to sting.
And it did. He landed on the coil closest to him, the electrifying zing coursing through his limbs and making his fur stand on end.

Me-fucking-ow!

Pain or not, he dug his claws into the slimy scales coating the serpent’s body. The creature didn’t like this at all and hissed at him. The head, with its ruffled fin atop its crown and one lidless eye, swung in his direction. The mouth opened wide, revealing pointed teeth.

That, Felipe could have handled. It was the appearance of the second
eel, which he didn’t note until it whipped its tail around him, pinning him in its coils, that proved problematic.

Fuck. He hated it when his dinner ganged up on him.
There goes another of my lives.