Read The Moon, the Madness, and the Magic Online
Authors: Eliza March
Tags: #Menage a Trois (m/m/f), #Menage Amour, #Fiction, #Romance, #Adult, #Erotica, #Fantasy
The Moon, the Madness, and the Magic (2 page)
Shit, his entire body was going to explode if he didn’t come soon.
The walls of Amelia’s tight cunt gripped him one more time as her after-spasms milked him, and finally, the scent of her true fear forced his orgasm.
He erupted.
Rourke surrendered to his climax and collapsed his full weight on top of her. Thick cum spurted inside the condom long after he’d stopped pumping. Panting like a runner at the end of a marathon, he felt sweat pour off his body. He licked the sweat mixed with blood off of his top lip then licked his lips clean. The taste had him shooting another load of cum into the condom.
Shit, he hoped the reservoir held. Other than him, this bitch was the last person on earth who should reproduce. She had a venomous cobra’s mouth with a boa constrictor’s ability to suck the life’s breath from her quarry. Ask anyone in Chicago law. Amelia looked like an angel and performed like a whore, in the courtroom or in the bedroom. She was his idea of the perfect attorney and the perfect bedmate. A serpent.
But then who was he to judge? A bastard with a beast taking over his mind had no room to criticize anyone else.
“Get off.” She flayed her arms and pounded him until he rolled to the side. “You damn freak! You bit me! Twice!” She slapped him.
He slapped her back, a reflex that drew blood at the corner of her mouth. A small part of his sanity returned, but not enough.
He couldn’t drag back enough of his humanity yet to regret slapping her. She looked surprised and a little pleased. Especially when he bent over her and gently licked her lip clean. The taste melted into his mouth like warm chocolate, and he savored the flavor. Part of him felt sickened by his action, part of him excited by it.
He ran his tongue over his lips, rolled to his back, and noted the red blood smeared on her mouth, her neck, and her breast. He smiled all the way into his dark heart. The blood on his lips tasted rich, sweet, and he’d never forget that moment of satisfaction—the moment he’d given up the internal struggle and bitten down.
Despite the power and the pleasure in that moment, had he somehow lost the battle against the beast?
Amelia’s tongue licked her bloodied lip. “What the fuck?”
He reached to touch her, but she shook him off. Her growing anger brought him slightly closer to reality.
“I’m bleeding.” Amelia pulled away from him and stormed off, stomping to the bathroom and the mirror. “My face! Dammit, Rourke, this is going to leave a mark! I have to be at our board meeting in the morning.”
“Get over it, Amelia. It’s your own damn fault. You didn’t use your safe word.”
“Fuck you.”
“No. I fucked you,” Rourke yelled after her. “Besides, you climaxed like a whore on crack. You said you wanted something edgy, a little different, tonight.”
“Different, maybe.” She poked her head out of the bathroom to glare at him and disappeared behind the door again as she shouted, “I just didn’t expect to play Little Red Riding Hood to your Big Bad Wolf.”
The water in the shower turned on right before she frowned around the doorjamb and asked, “What’s with your eyes, anyway? Did you get contacts?”
“Contacts? Oh, yeah.”
Shit, he’d forgotten. Yes, his eyes. He sat up and looked into the mirror over the bed. What the fuck was going on with his eyes?
Eyes?
Hell, what was going on with him in general?
He scrubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. “Hey, Amelia, sorry if I got carried away. Sorry about, you know, slapping you.”
She stepped out of the bathroom, raised an eyebrow, and smiled. The red mark on her cheek, the visible blood on her lip, and the smear at her breast made his cock hard again.
“Oh, yeah, and the bite, too.”
“Well, a little biting is okay, but no more slapping the face. Too hard to explain.” She rubbed at the wound on her breast. “And no drawing blood next time.”
Her words rang in his head.
Next time?
Hell, Rourke didn’t know what was going on with him, but he figured until he found out, there’d better not be a next time with anyone.
She cocked her head in the direction of the bathroom. “Want to join me?”
“I’ll pass.”
She looked disappointed.
He needed a reasonable explanation for wanting to get the hell away from her, but one that would help her save face. She was a good attorney, after all.
“If I get in there with you, I’ll be tempted to fuck you again, and I think I’ve already climaxed most of my brains out my dick. I might need to salvage some for the morning.” He looked at his watch. “Actually, we’ll both need them at the board meeting in three hours.”
He looked around for his clothes. Spotting them across the room right next to where Amelia stood made him hesitate. She cupped her superb breasts as he approached, flashing them in his face, trying to tempt him. He risked getting that close, reaching around her to pick up his shirt on the chair beside her hip. “Tempting. Very tempting.”
Her lids lowered, and so did her voice, dropping to a whispered rasp. “Except for drawing blood, you were extraordinary tonight, Rourke. Hell, I think I came six times while you were pounding into me like it was your last fuck. My pussy’s dripping and my knees are weak just thinking about it.”
Her hand reached out to cup his balls, but Rourke turned from her touch and forced his voice to sound light. “Your cunt milked my dick like it was a cow’s teat.”
He slapped her ass good-naturedly, sending her into the bathroom on her own. After he heard her in the shower, he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled on his pants. Once he was home, he’d shower. Alone.
Tonight, something had snapped. He’d totally lost control.
Next time
he was afraid he wouldn’t stop. Safe word or no. He had to get with Dane and research this. They needed answers for what was happening to him.
This wasn’t the life he’d envisioned. Not what he wanted. Not the woman or the sex. Not like this.
Getting away, maybe out of town for a while, might be wise, at least until he discovered what he was.
Chapter 2
Fantasy Lodge –Lounge Cats
Celeste Cameron hung back. She stood as tall as she could manage, shoulders back, head high. Unbalanced. This felt so weird.
She’d lived in Colorado in the vicinity of Enchanted Mountain all of her twenty-nine years, but tonight seemed different. Fantasy Lodge was near the epicenter of the Lore, a magical place that eventually called to all Other beings at the time of their
rising
. She was no exception.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to gather her nerve. Part fae, part succubus, the only part of her that had ever been much of a social creature was her wolf. She was gifted, able to shift into her wolf form from the time she was a teen. Everyone always said girls matured faster than boys, but she was even more advanced than most. Maybe it was part of her fae genes.
Now, as the succubus part of her heritage approached maturity, she faced “social” on a whole separate level. Lounge Cats was the favorite hangout for Fantasy Lodge visitors, and this particular bar epitomized not only where she was but what she was. The club welcomed all shifters and humans alike.
All the planes of existence met here where the Veil was thinnest and so explained the variety of creatures that inhabited the surrounding mountains and the foothills. As often as Celeste had visited this side of the mountain, this time promised to be different.
Besides being a typical resort, Fantasy Lodge was an erotic, hedonistic getaway. Anything and everything sexual was acceptable. She’d never needed to come here before, but tonight, she’d be going out with her succubus rising for the first time. As the next full moon approached, her succubus fought her for control. Her goal tonight—test the water, interact with the men, see if she could maintain control over her nature.
Her real challenge would be learning to control the succubus within her, especially around the alpha males who would sense the sexual predator straining to escape.
A quick glance into the giant mirror just past the potted palms had her ready to run. Thank goodness, the hallway was empty. She turned her back and glanced over her shoulder at the unfamiliar image reflecting back at her in the ceiling-to-floor mirror. Her hair was a mess of uncontrolled platinum curls piled high on her head. Her legs seemed to travel up the length of her body with no end in sight. A hard tug on the short, black leather skirt accomplished nothing. The material barely covered her ass, and the five-inch stilettos made her look like three-quarters of her body was leg and the remainder boobs.
She tried shoving her cleavage back into the bodice of the tiny top with little luck. The effort sent the contents of her purse scattering to the floor, and then she tried to sidestep to the left of her rolling lip gloss. That had her wobbling. Maneuvering in the shoes could get dangerous. She tried squatting very carefully, looked up at her reflection, and caught sight of…
Oops, better not do that
.
She looked around. The hall was still empty. Footsteps echoed on the marble floor, the sound drawing closer. She kicked the purse into the plants so she could retrieve it with her backside hidden in the foliage. If the quick flash of her undies hadn’t been warning enough, the cool breeze on her behind reminded her she only wore a thong.
Trying to maintain her balance as she rose, she used slow, stilted movements, aimed to appear deliberate and cautious to anyone who might venture by. She tugged once more at her skirt as two men rounded the corner and approached.
She recognized them from the pictures the Council had given her when they’d assigned her to this mission. Her heart pounded when they smiled.
There was no way the men would know her, but she hoped they didn’t sense anything from the wild emotions bubbling inside her, rising so close to the surface a neophyte could read them.
At first, their interest appeared to be no more than typical male awareness as they walked past her, but then one of them paused and turned her way as if he’d recalled something. She froze in place, refusing to look up and start anything.
Keep going,
she willed them.
She wasn’t ready to confront her obligation to the Council yet.
She turned her glamour down to a mere pilot light and didn’t breathe. They kept moving toward the music, fading into the dark club, but the scent of aroused wolf lingered.
Whew, that was close.
Walking in the spindly shoes presented a problem of sorts, sitting in the skirt would be impossible, and dancing might be disastrous. Her aunt was determined to throw her to the wolves. Literally.
“Damn, Celia, you did this on purpose knowing how short this would be. Are you listening?”
No response whispered in her mind.
“I’m not even as tall as some of
the other fae. This skirt wouldn’t cover Rachel’s…well,
you know what.”
With the mixed crowd gathering in the club, there appeared to be plenty of opportunities to release her inner resources. Celeste had come to accept her place among the Lore. She just hadn’t expected to face it for the first time half-dressed.
In this outfit, she’d have to be careful, very careful. The vamps would drool over her long, exposed neck. The leopards, lions, and wolves would love all her exposed flesh. The short skirt and the skintight, beacon-red, come-and-get-me tank top revealed way too much.
She rechecked herself in the mirror and groaned. The thin spaghetti straps barely held the top up against her straining breasts. Her erect nipples poked through the material. There was no way she could appear in public, let alone in a place filled with aroused, hungry males of all sorts, in this getup.
She took another backward glance and shook her head. A wild curl escaped her wound-up tresses and gave her an idea. Before the approaching full moon set this month, instinct would drive her to her first sexual experience, ready and willing or not. All males would be wildly attracted to her nature as it grew stronger with each passing night. They couldn’t resist their attraction to her under normal conditions, and under the present circumstances, she’d likely get mauled.
More footsteps and loud laughing. She had to hurry.
She unpinned her hair and let it fall like a curtain of curling, pale waves draping her shoulders. It fell over her breasts, down her back to her hips, and beyond, concealing the faery wings lying flat against her shoulder blades like a colorful tattoo.
The hair would protect her like a veil.
If her true mate didn’t claim her soon…Well, she’d ascend without his help, but she’d be a danger to all other males until she garnered control over her demanding sexual nature.
For some reason, the Council believed this club and its clients with every imaginable sexual preference provided the answer to her dilemma. Yesterday, the Council had confirmed the rumors Celeste had heard over the years, the ones about the prince’s return and her role in the prophecy. Before this moment, she hadn’t been so sure they were right. Now, her physical reaction said otherwise.
Even if she hadn’t recognized the men from their photos, something deep inside her would have known them from their scent.