The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) (16 page)

“Stay,” she pleaded, breathlessly.

Julian’s lips hovered teasingly over hers. “You’re ready.” 

When his lips met hers, the universe exploded inside Jazzmyn. She was overrun by an intense white heat as she slammed her body into him and began grinding her hips against his. She had never wanted a man like this, and the frenzied hunger that was taking over her mind frightened her. Her grip on rational thought ebbed away as she became consumed by her need for Julian. His kisses only seemed to intensify her feelings, and when his lips began working their way down her neck, she thought she would cry out with desperation.

Julian groaned against her as his hands roamed over her breasts. He frantically pulled at the buttons down the front of her white satin blouse. Once he had forced the shirt from her shoulders, his teeth nipped at the tender flesh about her neck and breasts. 

“I’m done waiting for you,” he said against her skin, the frustration evident in his husky voice. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms before he started for the stairs. As he kissed her face and neck, he climbed the wide steps two at a time. When he reached the second floor landing, he went straight for her bedroom door.

He kicked the door open with his foot, and when Jazzmyn saw the darkness of her bedroom looming before them, she shivered. She wondered how he knew where her bedroom was, and then she became afraid; afraid of the man she was going to give herself to. Her mind struggled to recall the questions that had plagued her throughout the day, but when his lips came down hard on hers, all her concerns were erased.

Julian hurried to the king-sized bed in the center of the room. The antique, four-poster bed creaked when he lowered their bodies onto the cool blue quilt.

As he peeled the clothes from her, his hands greedily explored her soft flesh. Naked beneath his powerful body, Jazzmyn was eager to touch his skin. After hastily unbuttoning his shirt, she discovered that his wide chest was covered with hair. Jazzmyn’s hands traveled down to his swollen crotch and fondled his erection. He felt huge, but she figured it had to be her imagination, because no man could possibly be so well endowed.

Julian pushed her hands away. “Not yet.”

He wrestled free of his shirt and tossed it to the side while kissing her breasts. Jazzmyn ran her hands through his hair as he lowered his head to the valley between her legs. He spread her knees wide apart, and she gasped with exhilaration when his mouth closed over her delicate folds.

“Oh God, Julian,” she cried out while his tongue relentlessly teased her.

Her body was awash with a flurry of wonderful sensations as the last vestiges of doubt about being with Julian evaporated from her mind. Almost immediately, Jazzmyn felt the orgasm spiraling up from her loins, tensing her muscles along the way. Grabbing at the quilt, she braced for the eruption to come. The release tore through her, causing her body to arch violently against the bed. She screamed as the climax overtook every facet of her being.

While Jazzmyn was lying sprawled out on the bed, Julian straddled her limp figure. When she sat up, she saw him wiggling out of his pants and throwing them to the floor. She stroked his thick arms as he reached behind her back.

“We have to do this a certain way,” he softly told her.

He flipped her over on to her stomach and forcefully pulled her hips to him, bringing her knees up beneath her. Julian’s hands caressed her back and buttocks as he kissed her right shoulder.

“You have to prepare for me.” He took her hand and brought it to his erection.

Jazzmyn’s eyes flew open. It had not been her imagination. He was twice the size of any man she had ever been with.   

“You must relax your body, my love,” he cooed as he felt her tighten up. He began stroking her throbbing folds. “I will try to be gentle.” His fingers slipped in and out of her, causing Jazzmyn to rhythmically move her hips against his hand. “I promise you will enjoy this,” he vowed as he removed his fingers.

Jazzmyn moaned and then his tip pressed into her, and as he forced himself deeper, a sharp pain ripped through her groin.

“Julian, no,” she yelped, balling the quilt in her hands.

“You must take all of me, Jazzmyn.”

He thrust into her once more, and Jazzmyn shrieked, “You’re hurting me!”

“Not for long,” he murmured, and then he pushed himself all the way inside her.

The beads of sweat begin to collect on Jazzmyn’s forehead as her body screamed with protest. “Julian, please stop. I can’t,” she insisted. She fought to try and break free of his grip.

“You must,” he ordered while he firmly held her beneath him. He pulled out and plunged into her again.

She whimpered as the punishing assault catapulted through her.

“Now, you’re mine,” Julian declared.

With his every thrust, Jazzmyn noticed that the pain was quickly subsiding, and her body was beginning to vibrate with pleasure. As he drove himself into her, harder and faster, Jazzmyn pressed her hips into his, wanting more of him. The ecstasy he generated with every deep penetration was like nothing she had ever known.

“Harder,” she begged.

She could hear their hips smacking together as he grunted against her back. Jazzmyn’s body pulsated as the tingle building in her gut spread throughout her limbs. Guided by pure instinct, she bucked and grinded against him, delirious with lust.

“Yes,” she called into the darkness.

Julian slammed into her, sending her quickly to the heights of bliss.

She screamed at the top of her lungs as her whole body convulsed in the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. The riveting waves of satisfaction went on and on, longer than anything she had ever thought possible.

Julian’s strong hands clutched her hips as he pounded into her. His grunting noises filled the room, and for a moment she thought he sounded more like an animal than a man. He gave one almighty, guttural cry and then came inside her.

They collapsed on the blue quilt together, breathing hard and drenched in sweat. Julian curled his arms about her and began laughing.

“You are the one. You’re my salvation.”

Jazzmyn wrapped her arms over his. “If you mean you had a good time, well, ditto.” She rolled over to face him. “I’ve never known anything like that, Julian. It was unbelievable.”

“Do you know how long it has been since I have enjoyed myself with a woman?” he mumbled into her hair.

“What? A day?”

“No.” His arms tightened around her. “A hundred and fifty-seven years.”

Jazzmyn gazed into his face. “Very funny.”

But he was not laughing. His eyes were cold and deadly serious. “I was changed a hundred a fifty-seven years ago, Jazzmyn…turned from a man into something not of this earth, and cursed to roam the land until I found the woman who could free me. The woman who could love me and make amends for my sins.”  

She sat up. “Are you drunk?”

He eased up next to her and kissed her shoulder. “What I’m about to tell you is the truth. I am not crazy, or drunk, or on drugs. You must listen to me and try to understand. I need your help, Jazzmyn. I need you to help set me free.”

“You’re scaring me, Julian.”

He examined her face for a moment and then sighed. “My name is Julian Philippe Devereau, and I was cursed by a slave named Eve to become a creature who can never be satisfied by mortal pleasures. No wine can ever quench my thirst, and no woman has been able to tame my desire, until you. Your ancestor Odette was my intended. I was cruel to her. I disregarded her affection and flagrantly flaunted my drinking and whoring in front of her. I shamed her. When she killed herself, this curse was placed on me to live as the mythological creature I had admired so much in my youth; the satyr.”

Jazzmyn backed away from him in the bed. “You’re crazy.”

“Think about it, Jazzmyn. You were beginning to suspect all was not right with me earlier this evening. I could feel it.” He shimmied toward her. “I’m not crazy, and I can prove I am who I say I am.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed. “Julian, perhaps you should go.”

He pursued her. “Allow me to prove it to you, Jazzmyn.”

“How can you possibly prove something like that?”

He held out his long hand to her. “Let me show you.”

She glimpsed his hand, but reason entreated her to flee.

“Please, I need to share my story with you,” he implored.

Despite the remonstrations of her common sense, Jazzmyn reached for his hand. She did not know why she wanted to believe him; all she knew was that she had to listen. She feared the explanation she had been searching for was about to be revealed. 

Julian stood from the bed and pulled her to her feet. He clasped her hand tightly in his. “I promise I will not harm you.”

“After what you just did to me, how can I trust you? I thought you were going to split me in two with that thing.” She nodded to his crotch. “You could have warned me.”

“I had to find out if you were the one.”

“The one? The one what?”

He said nothing and walked toward the bedroom door.

When they stepped into the second floor hallway, the bright light from the brass sconces along the walls made Jazzmyn reflexively wince. She looked over at Julian’s naked body and was amazed to discover that his chest, back, and arms were covered with a mat of black hair. He appeared thicker, and his muscles, his hands, even his feet were larger than she remembered. She glanced down at his member and her jaw dropped.

“Jesus,” she whispered.

Julian followed her eyes and smiled. “I am as the satyr described in ancient texts, built for pleasuring a woman.”

“But you appeared so normal.” Jazzmyn waved her hand up and down his body. “I never noticed any of this before.”

“Clothes hide a lot, don’t they?”

He urged her down the stairs to the first floor, and then into the living room. When he strolled directly over to the left wall and switched on the lights, Jazzmyn eyed him suspiciously.

“How did you know the lights were there?”

“The same way I knew where your bedroom was.”

Jazzmyn tugged at his hand. “You’ve been in my house before?”

Julian nodded. “Many times. The first time I came here was when I was betrothed to Odette.”

“But how did you know where my bedroom was?” Jazzmyn’s mind suddenly raced with thoughts of how to retrieve the gun from her purse in the foyer.   

“I have been guarding this house since I was changed. I have stood outside your bedroom window on many a night and watched you.”

“Watched me? Why?”

He let go of her hand and motioned to the painting above the walnut mantle. “That was Odette,” he said in a reverent tone. “She was sixteen when we met at a Mardi Gras ball. Shortly after that, her father and my father arranged our betrothal. I thought Odette childlike and spoiled. All she talked about was her horse and her small lap dog, Edgar.” He smiled as he studied the painting. “I was twenty-three and never thought such an innocent girl would ever please me. Some of the gentlemen in my circles said they envied me, marrying such a girl. But I didn’t want to marry her.” He lowered his gaze to the fireplace. “One night I came to this house and found her alone. Her father and mother had gone to the opera at the old New Orleans Opera House, and her maid, Eve, had snuck away to the slave quarters to see her husband.” He turned to Jazzmyn. “I was drunk and forced myself on her.” He sighed and ran his hands over his face. “I raped her,” he softly admitted.

“A few weeks later she hung herself from one of the tall oaks out back. Eve must have suspected what happened because the night after Odette died she appeared at the front door of my French Quarter home. I remember there was a full moon in the sky that night. After Eve spoke some incantation and blew dust in my face, I laughed at her and told her to return to her master before I had her whipped for running away. The next morning I awoke to find myself as I am.” He waved his hand down his body. “When I went to Eve, she told me about the curse. She said I would never be free of it until I made amends to Odette. Until I earned the love of another Livaudais woman, I would be forever cursed.” He moved back across the room to Jazzmyn. “I have watched this house and your family for over a hundred and fifty years. I have been waiting for another female heir to the Livaudais name to be born. I have been waiting for you.”

Jazzmyn stood by the living room door, gawking wide-eyed at Julian.“Why do you think I’m the Livaudais woman you’ve been waiting for?”

“I could only find satisfaction with the woman who will free me of my curse. If you had not been her….”

“What? What would have happened?”

Julian reached for a tendril of her brown hair. He felt the silkiness of it between his fingers and then let it fall from his grasp.

“If you had not been the one, I would have killed you.”

Jazzmyn clenched her fists and stifled the scream rising up her throat.

Julian saw the alarm in her face and held her arms with his immense hands. “When my desire is not satiated I become like an animal. I don’t remember anything until I wake up next to them. I cannot control it, and every day I’m haunted by the faces of the women I have killed. I was a cruel man in my former life, Jazzmyn, but I swear to you I was not a killer.”