Wicked Fantasy (20 page)

“Mmm. Yay for Sparkle and Asima.” Should she mention this? Yeah, she should. “Umm, since I haven't been with a man since I became vampire, I'm sort of not sure what will happen. I wouldn't want you to expect calm and controlled, and then have me try to tear your head off with the excitement of it all.”

At what point would the danger involved with making love to an inexperienced vampire who might or might not be overcome with bloodlust cancel out any erotic cravings he might have? Gerry steeled herself for that moment. She was tough. She could take the rejection. Maybe.

“Tear my head off? I don't think so. Besides, I don't think that's the body part you'll be concentrating on. And
that
part will do you a lot more good attached to my body.”

His soft chuckle shivered its way down her spine and spread to where her brain was still playing the party animal. Her brain was no longer functioning, but her animal instincts were just fine.

“So many body parts, so little time. Right now I'm concentrating on what your mouth can do.” She hoped her hunger for him wasn't broadcasting on high volume. It sure was turned up as high as it could go for her.

“Smart lady.” He slipped his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her. Then he put his mouth on her
there
.

Heat. The pressure of his lips.
There
spasmed in gleeful anticipation. Gerry wrapped her legs around his neck. No way was he getting away from her.

And when he slid his tongue across the nub of flesh that was so ready, so sensitive that she could barely
think
about him touching her, she screamed and then tried to muffle the sound with her hand.

Wait. She could hear heavy objects bouncing off walls in the other room, so a few shrieks from her wouldn't even register over there.

Conall flicked his tongue back and forth over the nub. Then while she moaned her appreciation, he slid his tongue inside her.

She gasped, arching her back, trying to squirm closer, as he dipped in and out, in and out. “Not enough.
More.
” Her thoughts didn't go beyond two-word sentences expressing great need.

He got the picture, because he lowered her to the chaise, reached for his jeans, and then fumbled in the pocket with fingers that trembled just a little. Trembling was good, because it meant he was involved and not just trying to please her. She hoped some of that involvement was emotional. It sure was for her.

Gerry knew her laughter held an edge of hysteria to it. No way would she last more than the minute it took him to rip open the foil package, put on the protection, and once again kneel between her legs.

“I've never wanted anything this much since Mom introduced me to ice cream when I was three.” This was a thousand times more intense, but it had some of the same elements—primitive hunger and unreasoning lust for fulfillment. The mature Gerry felt a brief connection with her inner child.

The rumble of his laughter was a sexy promise that he'd be the hot fudge on her sundae of life. A bit more exciting than the bowl of vanilla ice cream Mom had put in front of her so many years ago. Then as well as now, though, she still wanted to get her fingers in it and stir it up.

Something thudded against the wall. A hurry-up warning.

Once again, he lifted her hips, pressing the head of his cock against the lips that were already wet and more than ready to gobble him up.

She welcomed the slide of her fangs, the explosion of her senses. Conall's eyes darkened with emotion Gerry suspected he'd held in check for eight centuries. Something in those eyes suggested he might lose his precious control this time. A woman could hope. This wouldn't be a quiet joining on her part.

And then he thrust into her. Deeply. Completely. She cried out at the delicious friction, the sense of being stretched and filled.

Gerry rose to meet him as he buried his cock in her body. Then he stilled. Reaching beneath her, she cupped his balls—caressing, raking her nails lightly over them. He threw back his head and groaned. Pain or pleasure? What they were sharing was a little of both.

He moved, sliding his cock out and then plunging back into her, faster and faster. With each thrust she groaned her pleasure. The heaviness, the building pressure gathered momentum, tumbling her end over end toward screaming completion.

Gerry clenched around his cock, dragging a gasp from him. His muscles tightened as his rhythm became a blur, his breathing a harsh rasp.

She'd arrived at her orgasmic tipping point, that moment when she leaped into space and hoped to hell the bungee cord didn't break.

Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. She pressed her mouth to his throat where his pulse beat a drumroll of life. This wasn't a feeding feeling. It was a holy-wow-I-don't-know-if-I'll-survive-this feeling. Maybe the head-ripping-off thing wasn't so far-fetched.

Still she hesitated. Every one of her multitude of roiling emotions shrieked that this was getting damn personal, and she'd better think before she bit.

“Bite me, Gerry. Now. Or it'll be too late. Trust me on this.” Each word seemed forced between clenched teeth.

Closing her eyes, she drew in his scent—hot, aroused male and the essence of
him
. Never to be duplicated, never to be forgotten.

She sank her fangs into him.

The explosion of pleasure was so intense she could only whimper as the waves washed over her. Conall made guttural sounds of sexual excitement as he pumped into her so hard she expected the chaise to collapse.

She drank from him as her orgasm took her, that moment out of time and space when she couldn't move, but hung frozen as spasm after spasm shook her. Gerry clenched tightly around him one last time.

As she lifted her mouth from his neck, she savored the diminishing tremors, that feeling of complete fulfillment. And she wondered if she'd ever feel this way with someone else. Gerry didn't think she could ever feel
more
. Jeez, more would kill her. Again.

The world resumed spinning on its axis, the haze of passion lifted. The euphoria remained.

“That was . . . amazing.” She slid her tongue across the puncture wounds in his neck and watched them disappear.

Was she afraid to meet his gaze, to try to read his emotions? You bet. Just call her Cluck Cluck Meow, the proud daughter of Daddy Chicken Heart and Mommy Fraidy Cat.

She couldn't remember. Had he shouted? Did his high match hers? This was major need-to-know stuff.

When she finally worked up the courage to slide her gaze to his face, he lay with eyes closed. Uh-oh.

“That was off-the-charts fantastic. I never saw that coming.” He didn't sound too thrilled with his revelation. “I don't have a clue how the hell I'll give up what we just shared.”

Another crash from the next room reminded them they couldn't lay around basking in a sexual afterglow.

Gerry thought about what Conall had said as he helped her up and they quickly dressed. Then she opened her mouth to ask why they had to give it up, why they couldn't keep dodging . . .

With a crack of splintering wood, the reason crashed through the door.

Morrigan had found them.

“Hah! I caught you. The cat and the red-haired harlot thought they could stop me.” She walked toward them on her crow feet and then hopped onto a low coffee table.

Conall figured the cat and harlot had done a good job of stopping her tail feathers.

“My wrath is great, and your punishment will be terrible.” The all-powerful goddess twitched her tail, minus feathers.

Conall fought back laughter. It was tough buying into the all-powerful goddess thing when said goddess was walking around with a bare bird ass.

“Uh, we were just looking at magazines. So magazine reading ticks you off?” Gerry was trying to look innocent as she flipped through the latest pro wrestling monthly.

She was cute when she lied. Uh-oh. Dangerous thought. Conall could justify the sex. He'd lusted after Gerry until visions of her body consumed every blasted moment. How could a man function in that state? So he'd done something about it. Now he was cured. He could go back to a normal Kavanagh-versus-O'Rourke relationship, which was no relationship at all. Couldn't he? Sure he could.

The crow cocked her head and peered at them from beady eyes that still glowed red after her recent battle. “You had sex. Admit it and I'll spare you.”

“Sorry, Morrigan. No sex. We fear your power too much to chance it.” His pride took a hit every time he had to say things like that. He'd love to drop-kick her self-important little self into the Gulf. Each time he felt the urge, though, he reminded himself of her power. She was a scary proposition.

He felt the first push of her mind, and he pushed back. He might not have any real powers other than his strength, but he'd learned to protect his thoughts from prying entities. She wouldn't discover anything from inside his head.

Conall glanced at Gerry. He hoped she wasn't thinking about their lovemaking, because Morrigan would go to her next. Well, maybe he wanted her to be thinking about it a little. In code of course.

Morrigan's gaze shifted to Gerry, but after a few seconds she harrumphed and hopped down off the coffee table. “I'll catch you another time.” She started to walk toward the door.

“Aren't you going to change into your true goddess form and disappear or whatever goddesses do? Or at least fly away?” Gerry seemed really interested.

“You'd like it if I disappeared, wouldn't you?” Morrigan was one bitchy bird.

“She asked a simple question, Morrigan. And she didn't do anything for you to get all bent out of shape about. Just give her a damn answer.” Conall frowned. Was he experiencing a protective moment? One not connected to the curse? For a Kavanagh? Not likely. This was his normal instinct to lash out at the goddess, nothing more. He felt better after getting that settled.

Morrigan continued walking toward the door on her crow feet. “I can't change back to my true form when my animal form is damaged. I have to wait until my feathers grow back. Luckily, my goddess powers will restore my feathers in a few days.” She glared at Gerry. “Until then, I can't change and I can't fly. So I'll just hang around the castle seeing what I can see.” She cast Conall a meaningful glare.

Bemused, Gerry watched Morrigan leave the room. “A tailless crow will be walking the castle halls. Will Holgarth put up Warning-Crow Crossing signs? What about bird droppings? How will Holgarth explain those to guests?”

“What were you thinking?” The question exploded from Conall.

“What?”

“When Morrigan was trying to get into your head? You felt her, didn't you?” What the hell did it matter? She could've been thinking about her next meal for all he cared.
Yeah, way to lie to yourself, pal.

Gerry stared at him blankly. And then wicked understanding lifted the corners of her sexy mouth. “I was thinking about tree trunks—big, thick, hard tree trunks with lots of sap.”

“Trunks. Great.” His relief didn't make any sense at all. He was pretty sure that was code, though. He
wanted
it to be code.

Conall returned to the dungeon with Gerry in time to catch Morrigan's behind disappearing into the hallway. He'd love to see Holgarth's face when the goddess made her entrance into the great hall where his precious fantasies were in full swing.

Ganymede still sat staring at the TV. He glanced at Fo and Gabriel. “Too bad you little guys don't have arms and legs. If you did you could do what those people on the screen are doing.” He watched the action for another few seconds. “Guess you'd need mouths, too. Couldn't have much fun without mouths.”

Sparkle stood glaring at her thumbnail. Then she transferred her glare to Gerry and Conall. It looked like Morrigan had tried to nest in her hair. “Tell me you did it like it's never been done before. Tell me it was a freaking light show. I broke my thumbnail on that bitch, so it better have been worth it.”

Asima looked cool, regal, and untouched perched atop the iron maiden.
“I did my part to keep you safe, Conall. I leaped onto Morrigan while she was trying to peck a hole in Sparkle's head. The goddess was calling up her power to make Sparkle disappear forever when I struck.”
Long pause.
“I was tempted to let it happen.”

“Bitch.” The comment was halfhearted because Sparkle's attention was focused on her broken nail.

“But in the end I succeeded in pulling out the rest of the goddess's tail feathers. She's grounded because of my courage and quick thinking.”
Asima was one smug kitty.
“And as much as she wanted to destroy me, she couldn't. Bast protects me. Have I mentioned that Bast is a more superior goddess?”

Fo looked impressed. “You were very brave. When you leaped at Morrigan, you almost fell. But your reflexes were so fast you were able to dig your claws into Sparkle to save yourself.”

“Bitch.” Sparkle was now holding the broken nail up to the light the better to assess damage.

“Gimme a break, will you.” Ganymede tore his attention away from the sex act being performed on TV long enough to comment. “No one was in danger. I could've taken Morrigan down during a commercial break and still had time to get some ice cream.” He cast Gerry an accusing stare. “If someone
had
any ice cream. I like Ben & Jerry's. All flavors. If I'm gonna protect you, I gotta eat.”

Conall couldn't let that pass. “
I'm
here to protect her.”

But Gerry had the magic words. “No more food. I don't eat, so I won't be getting ice cream anytime soon. And no chips, cookies, or candy. I don't get an expense account on this job, so don't charge any more treats to my bill.”