Story of Sebastian, Chapter Six

Story of Sebastian, Chapter Six

Features adult language.

When we last saw Sebastian in November, he’d found Paul’s target and was preparing for his first fight as an angel.

Sebastian checked them into the motel using the same ruse as before — brother and sister visiting distant relations. The woman at the desk had accommodated by giving them separate rooms connected through a doorway. He’d immediately taken the connecting doors off their hinges and stashed them in his room. No sense in leaving her an opportunity to bolt. Surprisingly, Sorcha had only laughed at the maneuver.

He’d left their departure date open-ended and paid in cash for a full week. He doubted they would stay the full week, but Sebastian wasn’t worried about the money. He’d discovered he could pull money out of thin air if it was needed. Yet another cool angel power he’d learned about while training with the redhead.

Now came the tricky part. He needed to do reconnaissance, but he couldn’t risk taking her along or leaving her behind. Sebastian was stuck and not sure how to proceed. He needed to learn if Dubhan was still being held in the same dungeon or if he’d been moved. Sebastian prayed the sadistic fucker holding Dubhan was still holed up in the same place. If he wasn’t, well Sebastian would run out of time trying to track him down.

Thankfully, Sorcha solved the problem the morning after their arrival. She looked much improved from their little boat ride after swearing off boats for all eternity. After the kindness of the Captain, she’d slept away the last day and a half of the trip in their cabin. Blissfully unaware of her discomforts, she’d yet to thank him for it and Sebastian wasn’t expecting gratitude any time soon.

“I’m bored,” Sorcha muttered, uncurling from the bed and hurling a book across the room. “Can we go look around?”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? The lady said there are great ruins just up the street. Maybe we could check those out?” She asked it all nonchalantly.

He knew it was as close to begging as she would get and it did solve his problem. Sorcha had no idea what was inside the ruins up the street— well what Sebastian hoped was still in the ruins. He was also hoping if he got close he could just call for Dubhan the way he did Sorcha and his new gifts would let him know if he was there or not.

Sebastian grabbed his recent purchase, a long black trench coat. “I think you’ve earned a field trip. Especially since you look recovered.”

He quickly ducked the pillow that flew his way. Sebastian had used her sickness as a cover for keeping her inside the previous day. Truth was, his brain had been busy planning and wasn’t up to the added task of babysitting. Now she’d unknowingly set his plan in motion.

Sorcha danced around excited as she threw on her coat and hat. Ireland still had moody weather and the humidity did hilarious things to her red hair. She’d begun hiding it with a hat the second they’d climbed off the ship. Since it helped hide her identity he wasn’t going to comment. Again, Sebastian felt the slightest nudge of guilt.

He watched as she danced around from flower to flower, smelling each of the abundant wild blooms. Now she looked like the Fae he sensed her to be. If it wouldn’t have cost him his head, he might have asked how a Fae got mixed up with Tuatha like Dubhan. Sebastian kept quiet as they neared the top of the hill. It was slow going with Sorcha enjoying the scenery, but appearing too eager would raise suspicion.

He crested the hill with Sorcha close behind. Sebastian tucked his hands in his pockets and just waited. His plan was really just to follow her lead in this. He couldn’t make her doubt his reason for being here. Honestly, he was afraid if he told her the ruins where her ‘first mission’, she run off into them. Usually not a bad plan, but he’d learned his lesson the first time around with Mr. Wizard. This time he would have a definite plan of attack first and surprise on his side. And, Sebastian seriously doubted she’d like the plan he was coming up with. Sorcha didn’t strike him as the type to enjoy playing bait.

Reeling his thoughts in, Sebastian mentally lined up his plan of attack. First things first, he needed to find out if Dubhan was still there.

“WOW! That’s amazing,” Sorcha uttered, taking in the view of the ruined old castle.

“It’s really more of a fort, but those served as castles for the Irish…”

“Who cares? It’s incredible!”

Sebastian motioned with his hand. “Go ahead, but don’t go into it. The crumbling thing is dangerous. Mind the ropes around it.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful, Daaad. What are you going to do?”

Hell, what was he going to do? Sebastian smiled. “I’ll check in with the bosses.”

She nodded and took off at a full run. He knew she was armed according to his own instruction, but he still felt a chill. Sebastian’s intentions were two-fold. Get Sorcha off his back so he could concentrate on Dubhan and get Mr. Bad Guy’s attention. Hopefully the bastard was home, because a magical, pretty fairy dancing around his parameter was sure to get his attention.

Sebastian didn’t want to leave her out there too long. He broke his attention away from her and began to concentrate. He wasn’t sure it would work and, if it didn’t, plan B wasn’t going to help much. He finally closed off the sight of Sorcha twirling around the grassy field and let his senses wander.

There. He felt the tingle announcing the presence of who he was looking for. Dubhan was still inside, but the signal —if he could call it that— was weak at best. They’d have to act fast. Sebastian didn’t know the true name of the person holding him hostage, so his parlor trick wouldn’t work for finding Mr. Evil Magician. He tried to open the rest of his senses. He skimmed over Sorcha’s playful presence, Dubhan’s fading one, and found what he was after. Oh yeah, the sadistic asshole was still in residence and he was moving in on Sorcha. Part A accomplished.

He whistled loudly to call Sorcha back to him. She surprised him by coming immediately causing him to wonder if she’d sensed the danger stalking her from the ruins. Sebastian remained hidden by the trees, using another angel technique he’d stumbled on. He could become invisible and wasn’t that just a treat.

“Where the hell did you go?” Sorcha whispered.

Sebastian reappeared and chuckled as she jumped.

“You HAVE to teach me that trick!” she ordered and turned to start down the hill. “I take it you got instructions?”

He peered over his shoulder and his eyes narrowed. “I sure did.” His voice turned cold, “I hope you’re ready to fight.”

Sebastian jumped as her fist connected with his arm. “Of course I’m ready to fight! I kicked your ass last time!”

He groaned; of course she would think he’d been talking to her. “I know you’re ready to fight. I was talking to the guy we’re going after.”

“Oh… is he here?”

He shook his head. Sometimes, Sorcha showed moments of the carefree girl she probably used to be. Sebastian fought back the quick thought of leaving Dubhan to rot. She’d done nothing but complain about the guy since he’d met her. Sebastian had learned it was better not to interrupt her tirades. Of course, only he knew how much Dubhan had suffered for it. Not like he could clue her in though, it’d end their relationship in seconds. Sometimes, he had to remind himself why he was rescuing Dubhan though and, one day, he’d punch the guy for it.

“He’s holed up in the ruins. We’ll come back tonight.”

“YES!”

Sebastian laughed outright as Sorcha did somersaults and flips down the hill. He really should worry about her bloodlust, but it was so damned appealing right now. Mindful of her audience, he went invisible again and floated down the hill next to her. Yeah, so this angel couldn’t fly without his wings, but floating and gliding along weren’t so bad.

Sorcha stared into the fireplace, causing the flames to rise and fall. Sebastian considered it like a nervous twitch even if it was annoying in the extreme. Little flicker, raging inferno, little flicker… ugh, enough to make a guy jump out the window. He’d filled her in on his little plan and, while not completely opposed, she wasn’t very happy with him. The wound closing over his stomach was proof enough of her ire; her curses had just been the icing.

“You could have told me the plan BEFORE you decided. I don’t like playing bait and not knowing it.” Her quiet voice carried over to him.

He rubbed the now healed spot. “I gathered, but really it was just an on the spot idea.”

Her head turned, her eyes burning a hole in him. “You still could have taken five seconds to fill me in.”

Well, he had no comeback for that one. He couldn’t tell her that he wouldn’t risk Dubhan’s life on her saying no. Sebastian wasn’t willing to risk saying anything that mentioned the man’s name. Somehow he knew if he did, Dubhan would die and he’d spend a lifetime chasing Sorcha over the continents.

“Who exactly are we rescuing?”

Bloody hell, could she read his thoughts? She definitely kept him on his toes. “A powerful Warrior is all I know. And I’ll do the rescue, you’re job is the distraction.”

“Bait.”

“Distraction,” he growled.

Her eyes narrowed and Sebastian swallowed the growl too late. “You’re Tuatha.”

“Was Tuatha I guess, but I never knew my parents,” he hedged.

“The growl gives it away.” She stood to check her weapons. “Don’t like the thought of me being bait?”

She was actually teasing him about it? Sebastian wanted to strangle her and change his plan. “Of course not. The guy is dangerous, but it’s the only option we have of getting in. Unfortunately, he knows me.”

“How?” He winced in response. “Another can’t tell me bit, huh?” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take him out, you get the guy, and everyone is happy.”

“And what do you do after?”

“I wait for you here,” she answered in a monotone.

“Um, Sorcha, I have been assigned to you and I can find you anywhere. If you even think of running off…”

“You can find me?” She interrupted, punching a hole in the antique headboard. “And when were you going to share that?”

Sebastian shifted on his feet, ready for another attack. “I just did. It wasn’t important before.”

“And just what kind of danger am I in exactly?”

His head shook sadly. “I don’t know, but Gods I wish I did.”

And he meant it. He suddenly could understand why Dubhan loved this woman so much that he’d given her up. It still didn’t explain why Dubhan would actually give her up, but it gave him some understanding into his only friend. Damned if Sebastian would fail him by letting Sorcha get hurt. Keeping her safe would be something he could give Dubhan and maybe one day, Dubhan would be willing to help him in return.

“Sun’s almost down,” Sorcha interrupted, dropping the curtain and starting to arm up.

“You don’t have to do this…”

“I think you’ve guaranteed that I do.”

Her voice sent chills down his spine. Oh yes, she was resigned to playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. His guilt grew a little larger and Sebastian itched to do something differently. He couldn’t though, even knowing he was on a dead end road, his only choice was to keep going. He would just do his best to make sure Sorcha didn’t go down with him.

I have really enjoyed writing out these chapters for our loyal readers at Digital Digest. The group is being reorganized to better deliver stories to you. Never fear, Sebastian’s story is far from over. He will be appearing on my blog and, someday, as his own novel- with quite a large role in the third book of the Tuatha Destiny series. I hope you’ll continue to love and follow his exploits. Again, thank you for all your support.

~Jennifer Feuerstein~

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Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Feuerstein

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Story of Sebastian, Chapter Five

Story of Sebastian, Chapter Five

Features adult language.

When we last saw Sebastian on October 2^nd, he’d found Paul’s target and was preparing for his first fight as an angel.

Sebastian found a quiet spot, out of sight of his new companion. He didn’t want to scare her or make her think he was inept. He had a feeling she’d be more bothered by the latter. He wondered how to find out about his powers and settled for testing his old skills first.

He concentrated on trying to do all the things he could before his death. Thankfully, they all seemed to work. Not so thankfully, they only worked as well as they had in his first life. Sebastian rolled his shoulders and shook out his hands. Since he’d never bothered to practice them, they weren’t his best option. He wasn’t going to be much help this way.

Gods, he wished he had a sword. Sebastian choked back a startled cry as his sword appeared in his hand. He twirled it around, comforted by the familiar motions. He concentrated again and it disappeared. He took a calming breath and puzzled over this new development. Maybe the thought had triggered it?

Sword, the word rattled in Sebastian’s brain and he watched as it appeared to grow out of his hand. So, the weapon was tied to his essence somehow, meaning he’d always be armed. The thought was reassuring. He practiced a few more times until darkness began to close in. Even though magic wasn’t his strong skill, he was able to summon the sword quickly when he’d finished practicing.

Sebastian marched back toward the fire and the girl next to it. Sorcha looked up as he approached. “You okay?”

“Just getting prepared,” he hedged as he sat again.

“For what?”

“You seriously think I’m just going to watch you battle who knows how many of those things?”

“Maybe you should watch and learn,” she grinned.

Damn, she was really looking forward to the coming fight. Sebastian wondered what made her eager as he watched Sorcha stoke the fire. When she smiled wider something rang out in his head, begging to be acknowledged. He pushed the memory aside, wanting to focus on the fight ahead.

Sure enough, the shadows moved in around them. So intent on tracking them, he barely heard her whispered order not to move. Right, they were supposed to be clueless humans. His sword hand itched and Sebastian found himself wanting to do battle as much as she did. Old yearnings for blood and battle welled up and demanded release. Judging the movements around them, there were definitely a lot out of dark ones to unleash his frustration on.

Careful to use only his gaze to track them, he watched the shadows creep closer and tighter around them. Sebastian’s focus returned to the woman across from him, noticing she observed them with the same skill. One moved close to smell her and he wondered exactly how long the bloody woman would wait to strike out.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as a claw sifted through Sorcha’s long red hair. The woman was definitely crazy. Before the thought finished, her short sword snaked around and the clawed hand fell to the ground. Unearthly screams lit the air—the dark ones’ battle cry—and Sebastian stood to pounce. The sword’s appearance at his side was instinctual and immediate.

He needn’t have worried. Sorcha held her own against five enemies as he was attacked. Sebastian fought like a madman, ignoring the knowledge that he couldn’t be killed. Dark one’s claws were poisonous and he couldn’t run the risk of being incapacitated. Not when Sorcha’s life hung in the balance.

Sebastian dropped a dark one with a thrust of his sword, kicking the pieces into the fire. The flames rose with the addition and the shadows shrank from it. He quickly killed another one and added it to the fire. Even the small light would be enough to create a safe zone. Who knew Grylocks were so flammable?

Sorcha’s yell cut off his smirk. “You’re scaring them off, you idiot!”

He watched as the fire died suddenly, under her influence no doubt. The woman really was nuts, a walking death wish. His eyes adjusted to the light of the semi-full moon above them. Sebastian scrutinized the battle as her form disappeared and reappeared among the remaining shadows. She had raw talent and senseless luck on her side, but she needed some more practice.

After dispatching his last opponent, he admired her drive. Sorcha never surrendered and never seemed to tire. Sebastian finally broke through and started fighting at her back. They mirrored each other’s movements, the dance continuing until the shadows stopped attacking. Then the fire flared back to life, a bonfire in the desert.

Sebastian took in her smiling face and shaking arms. Sorcha’s panting proved she was winded, but still she moved methodically to study their perimeter before resting. Abruptly, she jumped up and let out a shout of triumph. Sebastian’s eyebrows rose as she danced a victory lap around the fire.

“Happy much?”

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken until she stopped and blushed. “Sorry, I’m not used to an audience. I’ve been doing this alone for so long.”

Sebastian felt like he’d been slapped in the face. The memories he’d ignored earlier rose unbidden and uncontrollable.

Meeting Dubhan, fighting beside him, and Dubhan saying he’d been alone a long time. Dubhan drunkenly rambling about a woman with red hair and green eyes. Dubhan staring up at him from a dungeon. “Just get yourself out of here and find Sorcha…Sorcha, tell her—shit— tell her I messed up okay. Tell her I’m a rotten fucking person and she deserves a whole lot better…”

Sebastian’s head rolled on his shoulders. He moved to a spot clear of bodies and dropped his ass into the dust. His last few minutes of life were still foggy, but why hadn’t he put two and two together when Paul had ordered him to find Sorcha? He groaned—because Dubhan had only used her name twice in all their years together. Maybe it was a different girl?

Sebastian thought over everything he knew about both of them. Her fighting style was almost identical to Dubhan’s and she used similar weapons and tactics. Dubhan must have noticed her real talent and trained her. She’d settled into cleaning her weapons, completely ignoring him, and even that routine reminded Sebastian of his only friend. She had to be Dubhan’s Sorcha—there were too many coincidences.

An idea formed in his mind and Sebastian smiled at her. She might be the damnation of him, but maybe, just maybe, she could be Dubhan’s salvation. Sebastian knew he had to move quickly before Paul chimed in with orders. The plan was sound but missing a timeline.

First up, Sorcha needed more training. Raw talent and a few tricks wouldn’t defeat the dark sorcerer holding Dubhan captive. Sebastian acknowledged he still had to learn about his new gifts. Not to mention, figure out the rules of the game he was playing. Good thing rules always had loop holes. The trick would be finding them in time.

Sebastian felt a shiver of awareness and glanced up to see her looming over him. “Headache?” she asked.

He shook his head, trying to avoid the choice between lying and explaining.

“Message from the Gods?” she asked sarcastically.

A slow grin spread as his plan got a jumpstart. “Hard to get anything by you.”

“Really?” She quickly hid the excitement. “I wasn’t sure how it worked.”

“Yep. We need to get a move on. How do you prefer to travel?” Sebastian looked around.

Sorcha began moving and motioned for him. Sebastian followed her over to an old jeep on the edge of camp. As she patted the seat, he groaned.

“What, no love for antiques?”

“Has this thing run since WW2?” Sebastian thought it came right out of a warzone.

“Have some faith.” She tied a bag down in the back and pointed to the passenger seat. “Hop in and tell me where to go.”

Sebastian held on for dear life as the thing bounced over the rough trails when she broke the silence again. He asked her to repeat it because he wasn’t sure he heard right.

“Sorry, I was talking out loud,” she answered. “I like to spend my driving cussing out the son of bitch that got me in this predicament.”

“What son of a bitch? What’d he do?”

She shrugged and turned hard to avoid a boulder. Sebastian was pretty sure he left his stomach behind, the simple lap belt digging into his gut as the jeep righted itself. He silently prayed they hit roads soon.

Sorcha swerved again. “Men are fucking bastards! Love you, leave you, and tell you it’s for the best. How the hell is a broken heart better?”

Sebastian wisely kept his mouth shut and let her carry on with her tirade. There was certainly no love lost for Dubhan. He’d have to be careful to leave his friend’s name out of the discussion. At times though he wondered if Sorcha was trying to convince herself of everything she ranted. Maybe all wasn’t lost.

“So what’s your story?” She turned her attention to him.

“Not much to tell. This is a recent change for me, still learning. I do know I need your help.” He answered as honestly as he could. “I’m just kind of doing this as I go.”

“So where exactly are we headed?”

“We have to work our way to Ireland. Your first mission is there.”

“Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?” She asked.

“You need training.” Her icy stare would have killed him cold if someone hadn’t beaten her to it. “You’re good, but you’ll need to be better.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Sebastian went back to being quiet, thankful when the tires slid onto asphalt. This was going to be a barrel of fun. It was obvious she would be super accommodating and help him out of the goodness of her heart. He kicked the rusty floorboard as his inner sarcasm burned, but Sebastian remained silent.

“Don’t kick the jeep. It likes to kick back…”

Sebastian barely held on as she sent the jeep into a series of swerves and donuts. Somehow he knew she wanted to launch him out of her rust bucket and he refused to get airborne. He fought the urge to leap from the vehicle and kiss the ground when the tires finally stopped squealing.

 Instead he smiled calmly back at her. “Feel better? You still need more training.”

“You’re going to be hard to get rid of, aren’t you?”

“You’ll grow to like me.” He winked.

“Great.” She snorted as she slid the jeep back into drive and slammed the gas.

It’d been weeks since he’d first found Sorcha and Sebastian was worried. He hadn’t heard back from Paul yet and he knew the fucker wasn’t dead. All the rules of servitude still applied and he was pretty sure they would have lifted if Paul died. Sorcha had greatly improved on her fighting and he knew it was more to spite him. He didn’t care the reason, he wanted her progress.

“Are we done on this boat ride from hell yet?” Sorcha’s head popped back up over the railing.

He hid a smile. Sorcha, it turned out, was not very seaworthy. “We’re almost there.”

Her head nodded once before it disappeared again. The sound made Sebastian’s own stomach churn and he stepped back a few paces to stare into the horizon.

“Don’t worry, we’re coming,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Can’t we just shimmer the rest of the way?”

Shimmering was what her people called moving through space. Sebastian almost took pity on her. Almost. It was sort of karmic retribution for the trouble she’d been. Every time they’d trained, she’d tried at least once to kill him.  Shamefully, he liked her resolve.

“Please,” she pleaded.

Sebastian sighed and explained it again. “Then we’d be missed on the boat. This was your idea after all.” His reminder earned him another dirty look, comical with the green cast to her skin. “I’ll see if I can find you some crackers.”

The mere mention of food had her lurching over the side again. Sebastian went to look for something she might be able to keep down.

The captain bumped him and stopped. “Sorry. Your sister still not on her sea legs?”

Sebastian grinned at the ruse. Being siblings gave them the excuse to bicker constantly. “Only if her sea legs have a permanent place at the boat’s rails.”

The captain nodded. “Tell the cook I sent you to the kitchens. Get the poor girl some ginger ale and crackers. I’ll see if the medical staff can send something to her room.”

He knew the captain meant sedatives or anti-nausea medication. Usually Sebastian would have turned it down with the danger they faced, but he was willing to knock her out with a hammer at this point. Sebastian shook the man’s hand and thanked him, turning to retrieve Sorcha from the edge.

He looked around and didn’t spot her. If she shimmered or disappeared off the side of the boat, he was going to strangle her. Thankfully, Sebastian hadn’t informed her that by thinking of her he could find her. He hurried to the location, worried she wasn’t on the move.

Sorcha was passed out in a deck chair, her skin a blue-green shade. The poor girl was probably freezing and dehydrated. Sebastian shook his shoulders out and picked her up carefully, nervous when she didn’t stir. Noticing her chapped, dry lips for the first time, he felt like a bastard. He was really just using her in this little side trip and he didn’t like the new feeling of guilt.

Afraid to leave her alone too long, he carried her back to their little room and phoned the kitchens instead. As he studied her breathing, he began to wonder if Paul was leaving them alone long enough for Sebastian to form an attachment to the little chit. It would be diabolical enough. Let the hunter start liking the prey and then order him to kill her. The worst part—Sebastian knew he couldn’t disobey a direct order. Gods, this was a new kind of hell.

Return for the continuation of Sebastian’s story on December4th, here on Digital Digest. For more fantastic reads, check out our ebooks from Amazon and B&N!

~Jennifer Feuerstein~

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Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Feuerstein

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Evil Cupid, Part Three

Evil Cupid, Part Three

Content Advisory: Includes m/f sex, graphic language.

Continued from October 15, 2011.

Pixie is fighting her Cupid for control… little does she know how much is at stake. Read on for the conclusion.

He begged me to surrender, to admit defeat. I refused and his fingers found the answer instead. I cried out as they plunged within me, and then buried my head into my bicep, biting myself to keep from giving in as his fingers danced within me. I teetered on the edge of another orgasm as my hips joined in the battle, grinding against his hand.

Suddenly his hand withdrew and he pulled away. I looked down my body to find him kneeling back on his ankles, watching me. I cursed and bucked against my restraints, my legs flailed but missed. His erection bobbed telling me how hard he fought his desire. The vision of it painfully amped up my own need.  

A cry burst past my lips and he looked relieved. His body covered mine again, delicious against my skin. My tongue raced along a collarbone, inhaling and tasting that wonderful cinnamon aroma that was all Adam. I battled for control of my own body, murmurs escaping between tastes.

“What was that?” he asked, tugging on my nipples.

“Go to hell,” I spat out, arching into him again.  My body now burned with need, the flames racing along my bloodstream.

“Now, now… you have to ask, nicely.”

Mr. Sweet and Loveable Cupid disappeared, replaced by something mortals would find foreign. He attracted me like a lightening rod in a storm. He became the conqueror, the alpha, the warrior. Everything a pixie finds irresistibly hot and I couldn’t hold out any longer. The flames racing through my body had converged at my center, taking away all hope of holding out.

“Pleease,” I whimpered and cried out, bucking against him. “I need you, now. Please, Adam. God please!”

Those words unlocked a floodgate of emotion. The flames pooled in my center raced outward, lighting my soul on fire. A pixie only gave in once in a hundred years or so, depending on how long the conqueror survived. My cry made an oath in a way, but it held such sweet rewards.

My nerves sparked to life with passion and everything around me became clearer, crisper, and more vibrant. I felt every taste bud of Adam’s tongue rasp over the skin at my neck. The frantic rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in my own chest. And, very soon, I’d experience the best orgasm since the year 1523 AD. I rarely gave in, but a Cupid made an interesting choice. At least I’d only need to deal with him on Valentine’s Day and Sweetest Day.

Adam’s mouth closed over my nipple and pulled with a long, wet suck. Effectively shutting off all my thoughts and lighting my passion further. I heard another slide of metal and realized the handcuffs were gone. It didn’t matter - I fought no more. Instead my hands ran over his body in excited strokes, pulling him closer and urging him on without words.

My need rose to a fever pitch and my core throbbed from wanting to be filled. I parted my legs farther and arched my hips. His erection slid across the wet core of me and I moaned low in my throat. I’m robbed of speech so I used my body to demand what I want. My hands glided over his hips and between us to his erection.

I used my own moisture on the soft, hardened skin to ease my trail up and down his cock. I only managed three strokes before his groan stopped me. Adam’s hand moved mine away as his hips pressed against me. My eyes closed, anticipating the moment he slammed home.

They opened in wonder to the slow glide of his cock into my core. My wetness created an easy entry, but he still moved slowly. I felt every tiny adjustment of my body to him. As if the submission of my soul wasn’t enough- he needed my body to surrender too.

I wrapped my legs around his hips trying to force him deeper but his hands pinned my hips to the floor. The squeeze of his fingers into my sensitive flesh increased the feeling of capture and I loved it. I moaned to protest the slow slide of him, wanting it hard and fast, needing that elusive release.

Finally his slide completed, my every crevice filled to capacity and I whimpered with joy. That is, until he began to withdraw. My body rose against his, trying to draw out the delicious contact, and then he slammed home. His head rammed my sensitive spot and I cried out in pleasure, my nails scoring trails onto his back. Again and again he repeated the maneuver until I writhed on the carpet, dying a slow death as my fever grew within.

He pulled me up into the safety of his arms. I allowed the manhandling, part of the agreement of my earlier submission. I was completely in his power and thankful for a second I was treated with care. Gratitude flew out the window as the change in position forced him deeper within me. I leaned forward and bit his shoulder, suckling at the red welts.

Adam climbed onto the bed with me, oddly fixing me in a position of power. I stared down at him in confusion from my perch on his hips. A lift of his hips wrenched another groan of ecstasy from my lips. I ran my hands down his chiseled chest, digging in around his pecs.

“Dance, Anna... take control,” he moaned, gripping my hips and directing me.

Never in this ritual have I been in control and it excited me. My body took over, riding him in a rhythm set by instinct, feeling, and need. A shot of electricity sizzled up my core as his thumb rubbed over my sensitive clit, rocketing my bliss into overdrive.

Tendrils of the coming orgasm whispered through my muscles as the room faded to black in my vision. Still my hips pumped and ground against him, his hips rose to match me, and his thumb continued its persistent slide.

The room disappeared into stars and darkness as the orgasm ripped through my body. I sensed every muscle fiber contract and release in a spasm of pure heaven. My own loud screams barely registered in my mind as my body was thrown taut over Adam’s. His hips continued to grind into me, lengthening my own pleasure.

His roar joined my own as his hot seed spilled deep within me. My body lapped it up eagerly and greedily before falling limp against him. My heart rate erratic against his chest, I gulped for breath. His muscled arms encircled me protectively and I fell into a peaceful, satisfied slumber.

Sunshine leaked across my face, sending rays of light shooting behind my eyelids. My body was completely sated and, for once, all my hungers were satisfied. My arm lifted weakly to counter the sunlight as I thought about my situation. And I was in one hell of a bind.

On one hand, the night was full of glorious sex and I climaxed multiple times, leading to my current weak state. On the other hand, my submission was given as a free pixie. I hadn’t minded my last bonding. It’d been a pleasant but short experience, since I’d been released upon my captor’s death. Of course, nothing in our mating rules said anything against killing the man when you grew tired of him.

I felt no guilt about that deed, he died a pleasant and fast death… rare for a pixie to deliver, even to someone she cared for. Although, I reminded myself, Adam proved a very exciting surprise. Even though he had won the right to do whatever he wanted to me or with me, his every action had spoken of care and respect. Besides, I reminded myself, Cupids only ran amuck on Valentine’s and Sweetest Day. A twice a year commitment was easily handled.

Curiously, my eyes peeked open to study my bedroom. It lay in a serious state of disarray, especially after Adam found my treasure chest of goodies last night. My mouth froze in a smirk at the plethora of items strewn about my once tidy retreat. When I get the energy to rise, I’ll clean it all up.

My eyes detected no trace of my Mr. Cupid and there was no sound of running water from the connecting bathroom. My body lacked the strength to stand and do a thorough sweep of my apartment, but I thought I was right about the twice a year commitment. Not a bad gig for a pixie like me since we were only exclusive when forced to be.

I closed my eyes to slide back into sleep and regain my strength, smiling at the rumble of hunger in my belly. When all other needs are met, we pixies can enjoy the foods of the mortal world and I really did. The different tastes, aromas, and combinations... It’d been too long since I’d enjoyed them. I could almost smell a delicious hot coffee and bacon I was so starved.

The door to my room slammed open, startling me, and I stared. Adam stood clad in only his pants. I hated how my mouth instantly watered, not at the sight of the food on the tray but at the sight of his muscled chest.  He sat carefully on the bed, arranging the tray over his legs.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“So you plan on feeding me?” I dryly quipped. “The food is in your lap.”

“As if you could lift the fork,” he chuckled.

“How are you even still here? Sweetest Day is over…”

The evil smirk on his face caught my attention before my words were cut off by food in front of my mouth. I devoured everything he fed me, powerless to stop. His actions demanded, my body submitted – the oath called for this trade.

I no longer minded when he held the cup of coffee to my lips. I sipped eagerly, having missed the wonderful taste of the brew for many years. I brewed pots in the past just for the smell and now it flowed over my taste buds. I sighed in delight.

Adam carefully moved the tray to my night stand and stood again. I watched spellbound as he cleaned up bits of things around my room. That’s right, I told myself- MY room.

“What are you doing? And again, how are you here?”

He turned and again the evil smile flashed over his features. “Oh, I’m not your average Cupid…”

Knowledge dawned dark and deadly and my eyes widened then narrowed. I should have known with his knowledge of pixies. Hell, I should have known when he’d paid me any attention at the bar. No Cupid in his right mind would get mixed up with a damn pixie like me, unless…

“A Fallen Cupid… son of a bitch,” I muttered.

Adam continued to clean. “Get cozy and I’ll take good care of you.”

He hummed a tune and stopped every few moments to feed me more sips of coffee. But the taste went bitter on my tongue. My mind raced at how to save myself.

His humming stopped and his eyes pinned me. “Just so you know it’s impossible to kill a Cupid.”

I didn’t doubt him, but I prayed he was wrong. It certainly explained the Mr. Perfect routine. The problem was, especially for a pixie, it was possible to be loved to death. Sure, the sex would be great but it became a question of who would free who first by their death…

“Fucking evil cupids,” I groaned under my breath as his humming vibrated along my nerves.

~*~*~

Jennifer writes fiction for Digital Digest and Red Hot Publishing. Look for her other series: Finders Keepers with Danielle Gavan and Story of Sebastian. Each posted monthly on Digital Digest. Here’s hoping your Sweetest Day weekend ended well!

If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase the Digital Digest Volume I anthology as an ebook for only $.99.

~Jennifer Feuerstein~

Facebook * Website * Twitter * Blog

Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Feuerstein

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Evil Cupid, Part Two

Evil Cupid, Part Two

Content Advisory: Includes m/f sex, graphic language.

Continued from October 14, 2011.

Pixie met Cupid while out trying to destroy Sweetest Day and sparks began to fly. Let’s see whose left burning.

His voice dropped to a whisper, “I think we should take you some place safer. You can call me Adam.”

“Adam?” His name tripping over my lips was as hot as a brand to my skin.

“Ironic considering my line of work, but yes it’s Adam.” He held his large hand out to me and I almost melted. “To safer grounds?”

My hand slid into his and he helped me off my perch, my body melting into his as he led me from the restaurant. I didn’t regain my senses until the cold air hit my overheated, exposed skin.

“My apartment is a few blocks up. Would you like to walk or take the easy way?” I question him coyly referring to our supernatural means of traveling.

“I think I’ll enjoy the walk.”

He pulls me in and I’m struck by the solidness of him. Oh this night is going to be so much fun. I don’t even glance down the alley where I had my earlier fun, even though tangible traces of those events remain in the location. My attention is solely focused on my own lovely Cupid as my body alternates between hot and cold.

“Isn’t this sort of illegal for you?” I inquire of him out of honest curiosity.

He’s not the first cupid I’ve ever encountered, but he’s definitely the first to ever show an interest in little ole’ Pixie me. Most would find my ways of getting off disturbing since they’re all about securing love and peace and blah blah blah….

My thoughts trail away as his hand slips down from my lower back to caress my backside. I stop walking and find myself grinding against his hand before I can stop myself.

His breath warms my chilled neck as he leans in close to whisper, “I think you need my services more tonight.”

I couldn’t deny him even if I’d wanted to try. His mouth covers mine in a hot kiss as he shoves me up against a storefront. From the shift in the air, I know passing mortals won’t observe us. Good thing since we’re plastered up against the glass of a family style diner. The thought sent another wave of lust straight between my legs and they shook from the desire.

“Fast way,” he mumbles and we disappear.

My body instinctively rockets us towards my place and I hope I have enough common sense left to make it inside my apartment. I didn’t want to fumble with my magical locks and taking the time to try would end with us writhing on the floor; wasting my wonderful playground-esque bedroom.

My feet touch solid ground and my eyes open slowly. Adam’s mouth travels its way down my neck as I glance around carefully registering my surroundings. I’d landed us in my kitchen. Shit, I’d been aiming for bedroom.  I wasn’t being particular; I just kept all my fun stuff in there.

“Nice place,” his voice rumbled his chest against mine and I realize I’m without my corset.

“Mmmm,” I moan as his lips close over a hardened nipple. “Would you like a tour?”

“Later,” he grumbles and works on exploring my heated body.

“Holy hell, angel boy,” I breathe out as his hands slip under my skirt.

“Someone’s an excited little pixie,” he chuckles back.

I moan and arch against his hands, wanting more but unable to ask for it. I cry out in startled surprise as he lifts me up onto my counter. The place settings are shoved aside to make room, but I miss the caress of his hands on me. I make use of the time to slide my skirt off my hips before launching it through the air with a careful kick.

“Those are beautiful legs, Anna,” he moans as his hands slide down them.

“Enough small talk, Adam,” I command, pulling him in as my legs wrap around his waist.

The experience of his jeans on my bare, fevered skin is delicious but not quite what I have in mind. My hands reach out and tear his shirt off. Adam’s head lowers to my breasts again and I wrap my hands in his soft dirty blonde hair. I’m assaulted by the delicious differences in textures - soft hair, hard hands, and rough jeans. And, one incredibly wet, hot mouth skirting trails across my skin.

“Oh fuck,” I moan as his mouth dips to my core, my legs adjusted to drape over his shoulders.

I wanted to try the human buffet of emotions tonight, but now I’m the main course on display. And I don’t mind the change in plans at all. His tongue laps at me in smooth circles and my wiggling increases. I suffer the tightened shuddering of my muscles as an orgasm builds within. I’m about to stop him when the slow slide of fingers joins the smooth rasping of tongue.

“SHIT!” I cry out as I cum hard, falling back against the hard, cold granite of my counter. Breakfasts will never be the same.

Again I am lifted, not caring about the reason or where I’ll end up. I’m too busy riding the wave of ecstasy to give a shit. Swiftly soft, warm micro suede plays across the skin at my back. I recognize it as my sofa. So, we’ve moved play to the living room.

I try to pull myself together and become the sexy pixie I can be, but I’m stopped by his body moving over mine. Adam flips me easily so my burning face presses into the sofa cushion. I turn my head to allow for easier breathing. Choking won’t kill me, but passing out would interrupt the fun.

His hot mouth rains kisses all over my shoulders and back as the muscles of his chest and stomach are pressed against me. Evidence of a sizable erection rubs my thighs and I melt. My core turns to hot liquid again and I’m stunned by my own reaction to this cupid. If all cupids are like this, I’m going to develop a dangerous new obsession.

I arch my back and press backward, trying to demand what I need. An image of his erection slamming home causes me to shiver and moan. I wonder if it’s my own imagination or if cupid Adam is feeding me the thoughts. Either way I don’t care, we’re curious creatures us pixies.

A finger slides down my clit and I cry out as my legs give way. Again I’m lifted into the air, but I recover faster this time evaporating my molecules across the room. I watch as Adam looks around for the woman he’d been holding just a second ago. I use the moment to pounce, shoving him back into a seated position on the sofa.

“My turn,” I playfully purr.

I rake my nails down the hard muscles of his chest, being sure to rasp them over his taut nipples. My fingers play delicately across the planes of his stomach where the muscles jump to greet me. Adam’s breathing hitches as my hands slide over his thighs, just out of reach of his engorged erection. I rest my hands there, letting the nails of my thumbs barely brush his sack. My mouth repeats the trail of my hands and slides slowly south. Adam’s breathing increases and his heart beats a tempo even my ears can make out.

“You don’t have to…” he starts, my tongue cutting the sentence into an incomprehensible moan with a small sample of his cock.

Apparently, my little cupid has never been on the receiving end and I love being the one to enlighten him. His mixed emotions race down my spine, feeding my other ravenous desire.  Keeping my hands on his thighs, I slide my mouth down his entire delicious length and back again. Adam’s hands wrap into my hair, keeping it out of my way and giving him one hell of a peep show. My supernatural strength keeps him pinned while my mouth works its magic, one delicious suck after another. The guy even tastes like cinnamon and sex.

His hips arch up against my mouth as I suck down the pre-cum leaking from the beautiful head. My hands slide inward to cup his sack and he finds the perfect moment to pull me upright. Adam lifts me into the air and growls.

“Bedroom, now!”

I point him in the right direction, giggling as I’m thrown over a shoulder. My hands inch down his back to playfully swat at his tight buttocks. Everything about this guy is beautifully perfect. A wonderful specimen of cupid, to be sure. My patience for the game is wearing thin though. As he moves to toss me onto my own bed, I surprise him by flipping gracefully in the air and landing on my feet.

Instead of surprise or fear, I register relief and excitement. His reaction triggers the question I shouldn’t ask. “Have you been with Pixies before?”

His head shakes no, but I see his legs brace his weight for my attack. “I’ve heard stories.”

“Then you’re going to love the real deal,” I vow before launching myself at him.

Pixies are wild by nature. We feed off the emotions of those around us, living for chaos and danger. Our sex lives are no different. Mortal men cannot feed our desire because they simply can’t survive it. Over generations we’ve adapted so mortal men don’t even incite lust within us. A fresh cupid begging for it sent my lust to dangerous heights. The thought of stories piquing his curiosity made me want to prove a point.

Adam let out a sexy laugh as he caught me and we tumbled to the floor. We were a mix of limbs, mouths, and moans as we wrestled for supremacy. To sleep with a pixie is a battle of skills; the tumult of emotions as we wrestled spiked my need higher and higher. I’d never lost in this little mating ritual.

Imagine my surprise as the soft carpet presses into my back with Adam looming over me. He pins my wrists above my head and pries my legs open with his hips. I snarl, the fight not having been broken inside me yet.

My snarl quickly changes as his erection probes the sensitive opening to my core. I moan and arch my back, my legs spreading under their own direction. I needed him inside me, riding and controlling me. I needed the mind altering supernatural orgasm only he can deliver.

My eyes jerk open as a bite burns on my shoulder, the pain adding to my pleasure. If he waited much longer, I’d start begging.  Oh I prayed he’d wait, I prayed the stories hadn’t left out the important bits. Another bite stung my skin and I moan and writhe under the sensation.  I take notice of a click of metal and peek up to find my hands fitted inside my own cuffs.

“Found those under the bed. They’ll come in handy,” he laughs against my skin as his hands slide from my wrists.

I try to pull my arms down, to resume the fight, but the chain of the cuffs was locked around the foot of my bed.  My heavy, anchored bed. My eyes narrow at the cupid who knows more than he is letting on.

“Those must have been some detailed stories,” I pant.

His eyes narrow for a moment before another bite registers on my breast. I cry out as he answers in a sinful bass. “Oh, they were, Anna. And aren’t you glad?”

There it was, the asking me to beg, the trying to force my submission. I felt liquid warmth flood and pool at my center. I bit my own tongue rather than moan out what I wanted, what I needed. The fight continuing to rage inside me, I would not succumb just yet.

~*~*~

Please return tomorrow for the conclusion of this Sweetest Day Surprise…

If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase the Digital Digest Volume I anthology as an ebook for only $.99.

~Jennifer Feuerstein~

Facebook * Website * Twitter * Blog

Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Feuerstein

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.