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Spooky Smut in the City and Sexy Demons

Blisse spookey smut in the cityYAY! It’s the run-up to Halloween so the Smutters are bringing you some scares and things that go hump in the night with Spooky Smut in the City. Of course, being totally smutty, as I am, I couldn’t resist joining in the fun with some sexy scares from my novel, Elemental Fire.

AND, here’s how YOU can join in the fun to win fab prizes and read sizzling spooky smut!

  • Visit the site every day of the compeititon and open that days envelope.
  • Leave a comment on the days blog to get another entry into the Spooky Smut in the City Prize Draw.
  • One Entry Per Person Per Blog each day. You can get a maximum of 15 entries per person in total for the Draw.

Trick or Treat!

Since I love treats, I’m going to be giving away a copy of Body Temperature and Rising, the first novel in my Lakeland Heatwave paranormal erotic trilogy. For a chance to win my novel and lots of other yummy stuff, all you have to do is comment on this post.

And since I believe in treats all around, here is a spooky, sexy paranormal bit of yumminess from Elemental Fire, the third novel of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy.

Elemental Fire Blurb:

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Elemental Fire Excerpt:

The descent began gradually, then steepened until he had to lean back to keep from falling, but he imagined that was only necessary because he was still thinking in physical terms. Physical terms. If he were to survive this, he would be thinking in terms of physical pain once he returned to his body and probably more pain than he had ever experienced before. And the physical, well that was really nothing compared to the rest of it. He kept moving downward forever, it seemed, but he knew time passed differently in the Dream World, if that’s where he was at. It certainly wasn’t the Ether.

kd-ef2-buttonHe saw the glow of her long before he reached the bottom of the shaft, and he wondered what guise she would take. The light danced like fire on the walls of the cave and was refracted off faceted crystals, like the inside of a geode, he thought. But he barely had time to think before he saw her, and he was relieved that she had taken human form. There were other forms she could have taken, other forms that he might not have found so easy to look upon. She stood with her back to him, and even so, he felt her presence through every cell of his body, both cold and hot, expansive and contractive, not pain as he knew it, but a force that made him feel like his own weight was suddenly collapsing in on itself like a dying star, too much to bear. Too much to bear.

And then she turned to face him and he knew he wouldn’t survive. How could he possibly survive her? She eyed him for a long time, way too long for comfort, and even naked as he was, he felt exposed, as though she had peeled back his flesh and looked into the very heart of him, the very soul of him that now felt dark and fractured like an empty river bed. He couldn’t look at her face. He desperately wanted to, for some unexplainable reason, but he couldn’t lift his eyes from her beautiful feet, Botticelli toes, he thought. Such a stupid thing to think at a time like this. Aphrodite on a half shell she wasn’t. The dry heat of fire should have burned him to a cinder where he knelt. And he was kneeling, though he couldn’t remember when he’d taken the position of obeisance.

She moved around him in a tight circle, so close that he was certain the heat of her would burn the skin from his body, so bright that after images of her danced behind his eyes when he closed them, and he had to close them. She ran a hand along the top of his shoulders to the nape of his neck and stood behind him, so close the he could feel her breath warm and sweet against his ear. It was sweeter than anything life had ever offered him, her breath, her touch. And he was suddenly, embarrassingly erect.

She moved to stand in front of him. He would have tried to cover himself, but the weight of his arms was terrible. He could tell she was looking down on him, and the feeling of arousal suddenly intensified, flashed bright and settled low in his chest into a tight knot of fear. And yet he wanted, deeply, irrationally, needed her to touch him.

Then, she did the unthinkable. She curled a finger under his chin and lifted his head until he knew if he opened his eyes he would die from looking into her face.

When she spoke, it was as though he were glass shattering, falling into tiny pieces in the ecstasy of her voice. ‘We have met before, Kennet Birch. You had not grown so tall then. Adolescence is unpredictable, I’m told.’ Her hand closed around his chin to a nearly painful grip. ‘Look at me, Kennet Birch. If you have come this far, then you will look me in the eye and tell me why you are here.’

Painfully aware of his vulnerability and his hard-on, he opened his eyes slowly and looked up at her. For a split second it was as though he were looking into the mid-day sun, but before he could shade his eyes, the light of her softened, dimmed, cooled. And the face he looked upon was achingly beautiful, young, slender, pale, with lips full and pink. Her hair hung in long golden ringlets around her shoulders and down over the robe she wore, which appeared like flames leaping to touch and caress her.

He groaned out loud as everything in him turned molten in the roil of fear and rage and helplessness all wrapped up in almost unbearable lust.

She relaxed her grip on his chin, and offered him a smile that made all of his nerve endings sing with its beauty. ‘I’ve not worn human form in quite some time, but if my form is to be the last you see before you pass beyond the land of the living, then I shall offer something that won’t send you thence with terror in your heart. That would be terribly unkind of me, would it not, Kennet Birch?’

‘Thank you … my lady.’

She laughed as though she had just heard the best joke ever. ‘Your lady, I am not, Kennet Birch. Nor is my ego so delicate that whatever you call me shall matter one way or another. I will ask you again. Why have you come?’

She turned and walked away from him, and for a second he felt as though the light had gone out of the world. As his gaze followed her, he realized that they were no longer in the depths of a cave but in a garden in high summer. He could smell the roses and the lavender. He could hear the insects buzzing. ‘You know why I’m here.’ The stab of pain nearly doubled him over at the reminder of his loss.

‘Having nothing to lose has made you bold, Kennet Birch. Though I am not surprised. As I recall, you were already so as a youth.’ She waved a slender hand.  ‘Yes I know about the death of your wife and your sister. And though I’m sorry for your loss, it has nothing to do with me. It is long since I have interfered in affairs of the flesh.’

‘It has everything to do with you!’ Pushing himself to his feet, with an effort that was gargantuan, he came to her side. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’

She raised a golden eyebrow and turned to face him. ‘I am not your friend, Kennet Birch, and even if I were, I hardly see how an alliance with you would help my cause.’

‘Of course you see. Together we can defeat him.’

She absently plucked a blood-red rose from a bush that climbed tenaciously on a stone wall, sniffed it and studied it as though she had never seen anything like it. ‘I fail to see how you could possibly be of help.’

‘I could give you flesh.’ The words were out before he could stop them, and his heart nearly exploded from his chest as she crushed the rose, raised an arm in a flourish that was almost like a flash of lightening, and they were once again back in the cave.

She stood close to him, so close that he could feel her breath coming fast and furious against his face. Her eyes were fire, her presence made him feel as though every fiber of himself were being shredded and being unmade even as he breathed. ‘You are beyond brazen, Kennet Birch, to offer such a thing, as if I would want to walk among humans again, as if I would want to take up residence in their weakness and need.’

‘But you do,’ he found the courage to whisper, not even loud enough for her to hear, and yet she heard. He was certain she heard the very movement of his blood in his veins. ‘You do want to take up residence in our weakness and our need. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? And that’s the only way you’ll ever be on equal footing with him.’

She studied him for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’

Buy Lakeland Heatwave Elemental Fire Here:

eBook:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Xcite Books

Print:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
The Book Depository
Xcite Books

Reviews

“…this book combined action, threats, a demon, sexy connections and a coven of witches who are as engaging and entertaining as they are amusing. The pairings are super-hot and sexy, with detail and sensuality that brings a tingle to the reader, as well as feeds the general love and affection that all members of the coven display to one another.” The Jeep Diva

“I had been waiting since last year in suspense for the third and last in the trilogy and jeeze was it worth the wait! A dramatic, heart pounding, fast paced ending with a twist.” Midnight Boudoir

“You know, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye to this sex-charged coven but I liked the way everything turned out. The entire series has been nicely plotted and wonderfully naughty. Tara and company work hard and they play hard. If sometimes the work and play meld together into one heaving, moaning mass, well, lucky them.” Reading the Paranormal

 

A Blisse Kiss After Dark: A Perfect Time for Succubus Dreams

Blisse Kisse After Dark 20th Oct 2013I love this time of year when everyone brings out ghosts and witches and pumpkins and tricks and treats. I love it even more this year because it’s time for the fabulous Blisse Kiss After Dark. Yup, it’s a Sunday and there will be snogging! Lots of snogging! BUT this Sunday, the snogging will be of a paranormal nature.

I think it’s really appropriate to kick off the fabulous Spooky Smut in the City blog hop with a hot, magical, paranormal snogathon.

Blisse spookey smut in the cityAnd after that, make sure to check out all the fabulous, spooky-sexy offerings for Spooky Smut in the City clear up to the day itself! From the 21st to the 31st someone different will be inviting you over to their site for a spooky sexy delicious treat, so hope on over, with or without  your costume *oooooh* and enjoy the smut.

BUT to kick off the whole season with a kiss, well lots of kisses, actually, I’ve decided to share a whole naughty, delicious chapter of my paranormal erotic novel, Riding the Ether, with you. Riding the Ether is book two in my paranormal Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy. Sparks fly when a ghost rescues a succubus from certain death, and lust is most definitely in the air. Enjoy!

Blurb for Riding the Ether:

Cassandra Larkin keeps her ravenous and dangerous sexual appetite secret until she seduces Anderson in the mysterious void of the Ether.  Anderson is the sexy, insatiable ghost who can give her exactly what she needs.

But sex is dangerous in a place like the Ether…

When the treacherous demon, Deacon, discovers the truth about the origin of Cassandra’s powerful lust, he plots to use her sex magic for revenge on Tara Stone and the Elemental Coven, who practice their own brand of sex magic.

Cassandra must embrace the lust and sexuality she fears and learn to use its power. Will she stand with Anderson, Tara, and the Elemental Coven against Deacon’s wrath or suffer the loss of friendship, magic and love?

Excerpt for Riding the Ether:

Marie Warren felt a chill crawl up her spine from where she stood over the sink doing the washing up, and she knew she wasn’t alone. But the ghost was upon her before she could fully register her presence. Thinking that it was Lisette, she was about to chide her for sneaking up on her when she turned to find Serina Ravenmoor standing almost on top of her.

Marie jumped back hitting her hip against the edge of the counter. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

Riding the Ether cover image Final‘I’m sorry,’ the ghost stepped back. ‘I’m not a very good judge of distances anymore, but I need you to come with me. Where’s Mr Anderson? He has to come too.’

‘Now why would I want to go with you? And who do you think you are waltzing right into my kitchen like you own the place and –’

‘I know where Cassandra Larkin is, and if you don’t come quickly she’ll die.’

The ghost barley got the words out before Anderson materialized out of nowhere. He ignored Marie and focused on Serina. ‘I felt her leave the Ether just as we were preparing to enter. Do you know where she is?’

She nodded. Please hurry,’ Serina’s eyes welled. ‘I don’t know what happened, but I’m afraid she’ll die.’

‘Then take me to her at once.’

He turned his attention to Marie. ‘I shall send Miss Ravenmoor back with instructions to where we are as soon as I am with Cassandra.’ He didn’t wait for a reply, but vanished and rematerialized next to Serina Ravenmoor in a small dark space, curtained off, barely big enough for the mattress on the floor. Books stacked in avalanches against the wall overflowed into what little space remained. And there beneath a tangled duvet, looking so much like the dead that it twisted his heart, was Cassandra Larkin

‘This is not how I would have wished our first meeting in the flesh, my darling.’ He spoke softly, sinking onto the mattress next to her. Serina watched him as he took her pulse, which was barely there. ‘Has she spoken at all since her return?’

‘Only that she lost Deacon in her nightmare.’

‘My clever darling,’ he brushed the hair away from her pale cheek. ‘Clever and ever so reckless.’

Even without flesh, Serina Ravenmoor trembled with impatience. ‘She’s dying, and you’re the only one who can save her now.’

He would have offered a sharp retort, but the look in the woman’s eyes stopped him.

‘You still don’t know what she is, do you, Mr Anderson, or what she needs.’

Irritation at Serina Ravenmoor rose like fire in his chest. ‘Tell me if you know what she needs, Madame, and do not waste precious time.’

She took a step closer, still holding his gaze. ‘She’s been kind to me. She doesn’t deserve this.’

‘I can tolerate little more, Miss Ravenmoor. I beg of you, speak plainly!’

‘She’s a succubus. And if you want to save her then she’ll need your energy.’ She nodded to the front of his trousers and the seat of his manhood.

‘A succubus?’ He would have laughed at the utter absurdity of such an idea had the circumstances been different, had Miss Ravenmoor’s countenance not been deadly serious. He felt as though the woman had kicked him in the vitals, had ridiculed him in some cruel way by so slandering his beautiful Cassandra. ‘Surely I have not understood your meaning, Madame.’

‘You understand me. Perfectly.’ The little ghost reassured him. ‘And if I weren’t dead, she’d kill me for telling you.’

‘But I had not thought such beings to be more than legend,’ he whispered, feeling his heart race at the thought of the magnificent woman who had bedded him, a creature whose power was even more sexual than his own and far more dangerous. She was a being completely unlike that which the legends and myths had spawned in his imagination.

‘She doesn’t exactly advertise,’ Serina said. ‘I’ve never seen anyone so full of self-loathing.’

Anderson’s heart twisted still further at the very thought that one so exquisite should loath herself. ‘Now that you have said it, I certainly do see how she could be such. When we were together, I would have happily stayed with her, derelict in all other pressing duties, stayed with her and let her take me until I was completely empty of myself.’

‘She would never have let you do that.’ Serina Ravenmoor seemed horrified at the very thought.

Anderson shook his head. ‘No. She would not.’ He laid a hand on the clammy cool of her forehead. ‘Then it is my … It is my seed that she needs to be healed.’ He spoke softly to the Ravenmoor woman.

The ghost shook her head. ‘It’s more than that. Much more. It’s your lust she needs. Your essence. She won’t take from anyone but you, and she may not even take from you now that you’re not in the Ether. It was only there that she felt she could safely control her lust and not do you harm.’

‘She told you this?’

She looked into his eyes, and shook her head. ‘She doesn’t know how much I know, but I often stayed with her when she didn’t realize I was here, watched what she studied, read over her shoulder.’ She shivered and chafed her arms. ‘You know, to pass the time. I doubt you can persuade her to take from you all she’ll need.’

‘Do not you worry, Miss Ravenmoor. I shall persuade her.’ He turned his attention back to the woman lying helplessly on the mattress, and the pull in his heart was nearly unbearable.

‘Go and tell the others where I am. It may be that I have need of them, for I have every intention of giving Cassandra Larkin all that she needs to heal.’

Serina did as he asked, and he was alone with the exquisite woman that, in spite of their intimacy, had hid far more from him that he would have imagined possible. He removed his clothing and slid under the duvet next to her cool flesh, pulling her to him gently, offering her his warmth. And even in her weakened state, the touch of her flesh vibrated over his body so deliciously that the power of his own lust surprised him under the circumstances.

As he gathered her to him, in spite of being reassured by Miss Ravenmoor of what she needed, he feared that even the first brush of a kiss against her lips would be more than she could bear. And yet even in that briefest of contact, the cool of her lips warmed to his touch, and her chest rose with a shudder. For the tiniest of seconds he feared that he had injured her still further, and it was he who could not breathe for the weight of such fear. And then she spoke, and he thought his heart would burst with the relief of it.

‘I’m not dead?’ There was surprise in her voice. And pain.

‘You are most definitely not dead, my darling, nor shall I allow you to pass when I have not yet known the pleasure of your exquisite flesh.’

Her lids fluttered and with what seemed a tremendous effort, her dark eyes opened to gaze upon him, and she forced the slightest of smiles onto parched lips. ‘Anderson, if I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.’

‘It is no dream, my darling. I promise you it is not.’

‘I’m home?’ she forced the words up through the tight muscles of her throat, words that sounded abraded and raw.

He nodded. ‘In the flesh.’

‘And you’re here.’

‘Also in the flesh.’

Her eyes widened and her pulse raced, and in spite of her weakened condition, she tried to rise from the bed. ‘Deacon, is –’

Anderson covered her mouth with his stopping her words, and settled her back on the bed, then he spoke. ‘Deacon is not here in the flesh, thanks to you, my darling.’

She could not hold back the tears of relief, but there was no strength to wipe them away. Anderson did that for her. ‘Sh! my darling, Shshsh. He is not here, and you are safe with me now.’ Perhaps it was the press of his ill-mannered member against her thigh that suddenly brought to her attention the fact that he lay next to her naked and fully aroused. As he feared, it was not a thing that pleased her.

She thrashed weakly. ‘Anderson, you have to go. You can’t be with me here like this. You have to go. Please! You can’t stay. You mustn’t.’

‘Sh!, my darling, shshsh. I will not allow you to send me away.’ He held her until she stopped struggling, then he kissed her again, more insistently. ‘I know who you are, Cassandra,’ he whispered when he pulled away. ‘Why did you not tell me? You insult me to believe I would have thought less of you because of your gift.’ Fearing that her struggles would weaken her further, he wasted no time, but slid his hand down over her mound to ease open her womanhood, sliding a finger carefully down between the folds of her, and she gasped, pulling oxygen into her lungs as though she had only just remembered how to draw breathe. She was surprisingly warm and wet to his touch, and she responded by shifting her hips upward to his probing, only a little, only just, weakened as she was, but the response was there, and it was the response of arousal.

Ever so gently, he pushed back the duvet until her lovely breasts, nearly translucent in the pale light, were exposed, then he nursed at each of her bosoms until her nipples rose to greet his tongue and lips in a delicious caress of their own. With each press of his mouth on her flesh, with each probing of his finger into her wetness, she strengthened, and the feel of her against his body became more and more exquisite, kindling his arousal to a heightening flame, filling him with a sense of well-being and ecstasy that he had only ever felt in high magic. And yet even that paled in comparison to the feel of Cassandra Larkin, naked and needy in his arms.

It was only when he carefully pushed her legs apart and eased himself on top of her that she panicked. ‘You know what I am! Dear Goddess, Anderson,’ she croaked, shoving at him with all the strength she could muster in her still weakened state. ‘If you know what I am, then you know why we can’t do this here. We’re not in the Ether. It’s the only place you’re safe from me. Please.’ Her words became nearly incoherent in her tears, in her weakness. ‘Please don’t do this. I can’t live with the thought of hurting you. You don’t know what I’m capable of.  You don’t know what a monster I am.’ She struggled beneath him, but she was too weak, and he held her, cradled her, careful that his weight was not on her

‘I will hear no more such talk, my darling. You are by no means a monster, and you can take nothing from me that I do not freely give.’ This time he kissed her hard and spoke between the thrustings of his tongue and the suckling of her lips. ‘I have already told you, Cassandra, you cannot harm me, and we will hear no more of this. I will not be denied. You will take what you need from me, all that you need from me until you are sated, until you are healed. I shall hear no argument.’

‘You’re not my boss.’ She tried to shove him with the flat of her hand against his chest. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

He held her hand to his chest and gripped it tightly. ‘Then when you are healed and once more yourself, you may punish me as you see fit for my transgressions, a thought which I relish.’

She wept against his neck, and though she yielded willing to him, she was still weeping when he entered her with the slightest shifting of his hips. It disturbed him deeply that his arousal was such when she was in anguish, but he knew how close she walked to the gateway of death, as only one who has already passed through it could know. And he would not allow her to make that journey no matter how she protested. And she was, indeed, ready for his penetration, slick and dilated with need, need that he understood was now far beyond the simple drive for sexual satisfaction. The satisfaction of such need would make the difference as to whether Cassandra Larkin crossed through that dreaded gateway or woke healthy and strong to breathe the blessed air of the living.’

With the first thrust, her back arched, she gasped for air and her whole body stiffened. For a terrifying second he feared he had hastened the very thing he sought to prevent. By the second thrust, however, Cassandra had the strength to wrap her legs around him. He pulled her to him with a sigh that was almost a sob. ‘Dear woman, do not ever, ever do such a thing to me again. I was desolate without you,’ he whispered against her throat. ‘It cannot be thus again. I could not bear it. Take from me what you need, my love, all that you need. It is the desire of my heart that you do so.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ But even as she spoke she curled her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. ‘You don’t know me. You don’t know what it’s like when I need. When I’m empty, my emptiness is bigger than the void. Oh goddess, Anderson, please don’t let me hurt you.’

‘You shall not harm me, my darling.’ He spoke around the rise of euphoria in his head and the feel that his manhood could never get enough, but this was only his desire for her, he told himself, and even if it were otherwise, even if all that he was she took from him, then it was an exquisite ending to a very long existence. But he would not let it be so for he could not bear the thought of her anguish at such an ending for himself.

It was desperate and deep, her need, like oxygen when it is most needed, like food when meals have been missed, like the filling up of an empty ocean. And she wept even in her passion, wept that she was reduced to such raw need, wept that it was offered to her so freely, wept that if felt so good.

For his part, he was surprised by it all when he had the wit to consider beyond the pleasure of her powerful lust. All the while she took from him, he held his seed, feeling the intense pleasure that one does when the weight of lust rests heavy and tight in ones loins, when every second longer that one may hold off one’s release, the pleasure becomes more exquisite. And it was long in the process of their pleasuring before he became aware that his strength was indeed waning.

She sat atop him head thrown back, pale hair falling wild and tangled around her face. Her lovely bosoms danced with her thrustings. Her dark eyes had grown pale in the rise of her magic, the colour of the sky over Blencathera when it thins to the palest blue before it darkens. The room was awash in the sound of racing water and wind in summer trees, and he could feel himself being pulled into the emptiness of her need, filling it with his very essence, with something far beyond the life force which he had given up long ago.

Her orgasms began as tiny ripples from a place of weakness and grew to ocean waves washing over both of them, cleansing away Deacon’s touch, imprinting upon her flesh Anderson’s lust, and it was at that moment Anderson feared that Cassandra could no longer release him no matter how badly she desired it, that she was beyond herself, and with each thrust that weakened him, she grew stronger. With a shudder of fear that he barely felt in the ecstasy of their sex, he knew that if he could not of his own accord pull back from her at the right moment, then he would, indeed be lost.

But the thought had barely entered the bleariness of his mind before his manhood convulsed mightily and he emptied himself into her, then she fell forward against him gasping for breath, and pressing her lips to his.

‘There now, you see, my darling. All is well,’ he whispered, easing her off of him and once again down into the white fluff of bedding, when to his great relief, he realized he still had consciousness and essence and being, and though he was barely able to hold it together, he still had flesh. ‘You have pleasured me deeply and healed from my pleasuring. Am I not twice blessed? ’ The words came from his throat feeling raw and tight with emotions he could not, in his present condition, contemplate as he desired, not the least of which was relief. ‘Rest now my love. Rest and heal, and when you are able, we shall take you back to Elemental Cottage where you shall be safe.’ She was already asleep before he had finished his sentence. And it was just as well. He did not want her to see him in his weakened condition. It would only distress her, and for no good reason.

He slipped from the bed and pulled the duvet snugly around Cassandra’s shoulders. Then with trembling hands, he wrapped himself in an afghan and stumbled from behind the heavy curtain that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the bothy to where he was surprised to find the entire coven and Serina Ravenmoor squeezed into the tiny space amid the avalanches of books and notebooks. Everyone was present except Tara. Sky caught him before he fell to his knees and settled him onto the make-shift bench next to the small table.

He forced a smile and with an effort cleared the growing fog from his head. ‘I am indebted to all of you for your help, indeed do not look so concerned. All is well.’

Sky laid an unnecessary hand on his forehead, as though he were still numbered among the living, and though superfluous, it felt soothing, indeed. ‘We didn’t do anything, Anderson. She released you of her own volition.’ She shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it possible in her condition, knowing what she is. But then until today, who knew that her kind even existed.’

Anderson looked around the room again, and it was Marie who spoke, as though she had read his thoughts. ‘Tara was here. She left when she knew you were alright. She’s pretty upset still, about what you did. About what we did.’ She squeezed Tim’s hand.

‘Don’t worry, she’ll get over it,’ Fiori said. Then she nodded to the make-shift bed chamber. ‘Is Cassandra alright?’

He forced a smile past the pain in his heart that he had so wounded Tara, but it was more than he was capable of considering at the moment. ‘My dear Fiori,’ he said. ‘I believe Cassandra Larkin, will not be journeying through the gates of death today. She is now resting peacefully. However,’ he breathed. ‘I am undone. Please do not make my condition known to her, as it will only trouble her unnecessarily, and I shall be well, only I shall be unable to manifest flesh for a brief time. But I am, indeed very well. Very well indeed.’  It was only as the last words passed from his throat that Anderson realized he was no longer in the flesh and that Sky sat on the bench holding only the afghan he had been wearing.

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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