Once Upon a Valentine (19 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Bond

Tags: #Anthology, #Blazing Bedtime Stories

BOOK: Once Upon a Valentine
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She moaned with delight, and so did he, loving the way she felt in his hand, loving her smell and the sounds she made and the expression on her beautiful face.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for either of them.

Saying nothing, Raine reached for his jeans, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping. He grabbed a condom out of his pocket, lifted the packet to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth, then shoved his jeans down his hips. Ashlynn sighed with pleasure when she saw his hard cock jutting toward her. Her hand shook as she brushed her fingertips down the length of him, all cool, soft skin against hot, hard need.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” she admitted.

“Truly?”

She nodded. “After I saw you, that first day in the store, you filled my dreams.”

His chest swelled. “That’s only fair, considering after the first time I saw you, you’ve been filling my fantasies.”

She sighed with pleasure at his admission. “Raine, I want you so much I think I’m going to die if I can’t have you inside me.”

“I’ve gone to too much damn trouble protecting you to let you die now,” he muttered as he rolled the condom into place.

He grabbed her hips, tilting her toward him and plunged hard, fast, deep. She let out a little scream, which he caught with a kiss, swallowing her cries of delight.

No more words. No thought. No time. Just hunger, need and excitement. She was tight, welcoming and hot, and he let himself be consumed by her, sucked into her, body and soul. He lost who he was and where he was and everything except the need to plunge deep into pleasure, pull out, then plunge again.

They were both panting, thrusting, crying out. She took every stroke, the dig of her nails in his back demanding even more.

“Can you come this way?” he asked her between gasps.

“I don’t care if I can or not, it feels too good to stop.”

“I care,” he insisted.

Giving her no warning, he pulled out of her and dropped to his knees on the ground. He grabbed one of her thighs and hooked it over his shoulder. Taking one pleasurable moment to look at her pretty curls and those pink, plump lips, he buried his face in her wet sex.

She positively purred.

His tongue found her clit and flicked it hungrily, as though he hadn’t eaten in days. He gained almost as much pleasure from this as he did from being inside her…and, judging by her cries and the sudden stiffening of her body as she climaxed, so did she.


Now
we can finish,” he muttered, straightening and going right back to what he’d been doing before.

“Oh, yes,” she cried as he thrust into her again.

There was no stopping things this time. Nature and instinct took over. His brain wasn’t even part of the equation anymore. His body strove for release, pounding and driving until, finally, he attained it. He came in a hot rush, sure he’d never felt so good. And then, spent, he wrapped her legs around his waist and sat down on the ground, holding her as the two of them slowly left the stolen moment of hot sex and primitive passion and returned to the here and now.

5

THOUGH WHAT ASHLYNN most wanted to do was spend the day naked in Raine’s strong arms, she knew she couldn’t. They’d taken a terrible chance stopping for as long as they had. As sanity returned, they both acknowledged it with a few last kisses.

They gathered their clothes in silence. She wasn’t sure whether he was deep in thought or merely needed the rest after that amazing show of endurance. Mercy, she didn’t think she’d ever get over what the man had just done to her. Certainly no man had ever done anything like it before. Oh, she’d been no virgin, but never had she felt so utterly, completely
taken.

It had been magnificent. Unforgettable. And she would never—no matter what happened, no matter how long she lived—regret it.

“You okay?” he asked, watching as she pulled her bra into place. He touched her shoulder, frowning. “You’re scratched up.”

“Tree bark,” she said. Then, lowering her voice, added, “Thank goodness that tree didn’t mind being used as a bed.”

He cupped her face in his hand and bent to brush a soft kiss on her lips. “Believe me, beautiful, when I make love to you in a bed, you won’t end up with any scratches.”

“Maybe I like scratches,” she said, her voice throaty.

He swallowed visibly. “You like it rough, wild?”

“I do now.” Thinking of all the ways she’d like to have sex with him, she leaned in close, then stood on tiptoe to nibble on his earlobe. “I saw some interesting movies on the late-night cable station in that motel room.”

He closed his eyes, made a helpless sound and pressed against her, as if unable to help it. She could feel through his jeans that he was already getting hard again, and half regretted taunting him when they needed to leave. But some wicked inner spirit made her add, “I’d like to try some of the things I saw.”

“Like?”

“Maybe yours will be the back scratched up this time.”

He laughed. “Believe me, it was.” He turned, showing her the scratches on his back—marks she’d put on his body while he pleasured her.

She didn’t apologize. He’d driven her out of her mind, she’d been helpless. Nor did he look as though he minded. “I meant scratched by a tree or the ground. I’d like to be on top of you, to ride you…how do they call it, cowgirl style?”

“Lord have mercy,” he said with a groan.

But she wasn’t finished. “I think I’d also like to be on my knees and have you come into me from behind.”

He rubbed his mouth. “I was thinking about that last night.”

“Truly?”

“Oh, yeah,” he admitted. “So, I take it we aren’t going to get to missionary position anytime soon?”

“What’s that?” she asked, unfamiliar with the term.

He laughed softly, then gently stroked the small of her back, his fingertips sizzling against her skin. “It’s when we’re in a soft bed, and I lay you on your back. I worship every inch of your body, touching you, tasting you for hours.”

She liked the sound of this.

“Then I move on top of you, between your parted thighs and slide into you slowly, making love to you all night long.”

Ashlynn fanned herself with her hand. The position sounded familiar and was, in fact, how she’d always had sex before. But the way he described it made it sound
much
more interesting.

She didn’t know how long this was going to last—if Raine Fowler was going to be in her life long enough to do all the things they’d talked about. But, oh, she hoped so. Not only because of how good it would be. But because, since she’d met him, Ashlynn felt more alive than she had in years. Vibrant and excited, aroused and, despite the circumstances, happy.

She could become addicted to this man.

“Okay, historian,” he said, sounding rueful. “Much as I’d like to stay and help you experiment, we’d better hit the road before those goons pull out their magical map and find us.”

The map. Gods, she’d forgotten all about the map. She had been thinking of nothing else during their escape from Foxglen, then he’d touched her and nothing else had mattered. “Tell me about this map.”

He shrugged. “It was old.”

She tensed, wondering if it was even possible. “How old?”

“It was on antique-looking parchment, pretty faded.”

“Were the edges smooth or jagged?”

“Two were jagged, like it had been torn in two places. It almost looked like the corner of a bigger map.”

Feeling her strength drain, she sunk to her knees, acting as if she’d done it to reach into her bag for clean clothes. “Do you remember any details about the map? Could you describe it?”

“Probably. I got a good look.”

She rose and slipped into a pair of loose-fitting pants and a top, wondering if he could hear the thumping of her heart. So the thugs had the last piece of the map—she had already decided it probably didn’t matter, that she could find the castle without it. But if Raine had seen it enough to remember any details....

“Tell me.”

Raine opened his mouth, as if to answer, then closed it. “How about you tell me why you want to know so badly?”

Something in her rebelled at answering. Ashlynn had been on this quest alone for a long time. She’d wanted it that way, knowing the prize she sought could bring out the worst in people. She’d seen priceless artifacts stolen from the museum, knew there were those who tended to get a little crazy when gold was at stake. She just wasn’t used to trusting new people.

“Can I really trust you?” she whispered, talking more to herself than to him.

He flinched. “Jeez, you are some piece of work.”

She held out a hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Considering I’ve saved your life and you just let me bang your brains out up against a tree, I’d hope you’d trust me by now.”

“I do. It’s just…this is a sensitive subject.” Steeling her will, she reached into her satchel and withdrew the packet. She opened it carefully, revealing the folded map inside.

He gaped. “Did you steal that from them? Are you crazy?”

“No, it’s mine. I hid it in the tavern last month.”

She lifted the page to reveal the second sheet beneath, then said, “The third one’s in my bag, too, tucked inside a book.”

“Let me guess. You found it in a bookshop in Philadelphia.”

She nodded.

“This map was your quest…the reason you went to Earth. And you now have three quarters of it?”

“Exactly. And it sounds like those men have the last piece.”

“It looked just like yours,” he admitted. “So that’s why they’re after you? They want to put the whole map together?”

“Yes.”

“They didn’t look like the type who would offer to buy it.”

Oh, no doubt about it. They probably intended to take it from her, using whatever force was necessary.

“It must lead to something pretty important.”

“It does.”

He didn’t ask the question; she heard it anyway. Ashlynn was left to rely on her instincts that had told her from
almost
their first meeting that she could trust this man. And she did trust Raine. He might have a bit of larceny in him, but she knew he wouldn’t try to take this map from her if she told him the truth.

Taking a leap of faith, she carefully unfolded a piece of the map—the piece that showed the castle, naming it in elaborate, if faded, script. “This is what it leads to.”

He stared at it, his brow scrunching as he tried to make out the words. Then it hit him and his jaw dropped. “You’re serious?”

“Extremely.”

“Sleeping Beauty, the story—you’re saying it’s
true?

“Aren’t all the other ones true, in one form or another?”

“Well, yeah, but, I mean, even over here that story has always sounded like a fairy tale.”

“The lost kingdom of Seaside is not a fairy tale.” She elaborated, quickly schooling him on the subject, which she’d studied for years. She concluded, “Everything I’ve learned, every instinct I have, tells me this map is authentic. And that it leads to the castle where the lost royals of Seaside lived.”

He swept a hand through his hair, looking unconvinced.

“If you’ve heard the story whispered about, here in Elatyria, you must know what they say about this castle.”

He nodded slowly, a gleam appearing in those purplish eyes. “That it’s filled with jewels and gold. Do you believe it?”

“No.”

“But you’re going to try to find this place, anyway?”

“Yes. The treasure I seek isn’t measured in carats or ounces. An entire civilization’s history is what I’m after. I’ve dreamed about discovering Seaside my whole life—the way people on your world long to find the lost city of Atlantis.”

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