Move Me (10 page)

Belle shook her head wordlessly. She wanted
to ask a million questions - how long had
he
been seeing
ghosts, for one - but even more than that she wanted him to ravish
her. Putting the moves on him herself seemed both impossible and
unappealing, an attitude that was as unlike her as slapping him had
been. Belle knew how to be sexually assertive. Too assertive, Tom
had used to complain. He didn’t appreciate requests.

John sat on the bumpy chenille coverlet next
to her. She was glad she’d made the bed that morning, at least she
thought she was. “Cat hasn’t got your tongue, has it?” he
asked.

“No,” she said, her voice coming out
husky.

“Good.” He reached behind her. She tensed,
but all he did was pull the elastic band gently down the length of
her ponytail. When her hair was free, he combed through it with his
fingers, stroking wonderfully around her scalp and spreading the
locks over her shoulders. Tingles ran strongly down her body from
every point he touched.

She ended up as wet and squirmy as if he’d
been stroking much different parts.

Finished with her hair, he rubbed her back
reassuringly. “A distraction would probably make you feel
better.”

He was dimpling at her, his outrageously
handsome face inches away from hers. His delicious scent clouded
around her, making it hard to think. Could he be the same man who’d
sleep in a shed rather than return to an empty house? He seemed far
too confident. Women ought to be lining up to offer him a bed.
Mystified by his contradictions, Belle laid her palm on his lean,
slightly bristled cheek.

“Who
are
you?” she murmured, only half
to him.

“Does it really matter?” he murmured
back.

She supposed it didn’t, or not right then.
With the sense that she was just giving in to fate, she leaned
forward the short distance to mold her lips to his.

He sighed with pleasure, helping her press
the smooth warm surfaces together. His muscled arms slid around her
back. His body turned as he pulled her closer, falling back until
she sprawled over him. She almost changed her mind about wanting to
be ravished. On top of him truly was a nice place to be. His body
undulated under her weight, and she couldn’t resist the wordless
invitation to rub herself along him.

“Mm,” he moaned as her pelvis targeted his
cock. His breath came faster, the bulge she writhed against
growing. His hands cupped her bottom to pull her closer, one thighs
scissoring between hers. His quadriceps were the perfect surface to
get friction for her pussy.

“Belle,” he gasped as she put her all into
the motion. His spine arched and he wriggled.

“
Belle
,” he said in a different tone.
“What’s this hard object I’m lying on?”

For a second or ten, Belle had absolutely no
idea.

“Oh,” she said, scrambling off him as her
sensual fog lifted. “Sorry! I forgot I stuck that there.”

He rolled off the offending spot, and she dug
underneath the covers to remove Danny’s composition book. Though
she wasn’t able to read it, she’d put it there because she’d felt
better with it close by.

“May I?” John asked politely, holding out his
hand for it.

“It’s Latin,” she said. “It was Danny’s.”

“I won’t hurt it,” he promised. “I speak a
little Latin myself.”

Of course he did. Didn’t every handyman?
Reluctant to release it, but not seeing a real reason to refuse,
Belle passed the book over.

John was sitting up against the headboard
now. Placing a pillow over his lap, he set Danny’s book on it. One
by one, he flipped through the pages, barely spending a second
scanning them. Despite his speed, Belle got the impression he was
taking in every word.

“Hm,” he said once he’d reached the end.

“What does it say?”

His eyes were distant. They focused on her
slowly. “Interesting things. Your uncle had quite the apprentice in
your brother.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He made your brother his student in esoteric
matters, and your brother seems to have surpassed him.”

If she hadn’t just seen a ghost, his mention
of esoteric matters might have earned him a tart comment.

“Come on,” was the best she could do. “My
brother was
nine
.”

“Youth can be an advantage. Children are
natural magical thinkers. Being an adult, your uncle had to force
his mental processes.” John tapped the cover of the book where her
brother had scrawled his name twenty years ago.

Though this topic made Belle uneasy, she had
to ask. “Does Danny say what might have happened to him? Some cult
or person he might have gone off with?”

“No,” John answered slowly. “He doesn’t say
anything like that.”

He twisted toward her nightstand, where she
kept a small spiral notebook for jotting to-do notes that occurred
to her in the night. He tore off the next clean page and wrote on
it. Before Belle could read what it said, he folded the note in
half, writing side inward, and slipped it into the nightstand
drawer.

“What’s that?” she asked, thoroughly curious
now.

When he looked at her, his dark eyes were
strangely sad. “That’s my fee. At some point tonight, you’re going
to offer me anything I want. What I wrote down is my answer.”

Belle’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline.
“Leaving your ego aside, most men don’t charge for this.”

He laughed breathily. “Not my fee for having
sex. Making love to you is my pleasure. This is my fee for my
handyman services. Don’t worry. As I said before, I won’t ask for
more than you’re willing to pay.”

“And you never lie.”

“Not if I can help it,” he said.

The look in his eyes drove everything from
her head. It was intent and smoldering and melancholy too.

This is the last time
, she thought,
searching his strange deep gaze.
He won’t be back
tomorrow
.

That was silly, considering he’d been hiding
in her shed to stay close to her. Even so, she believed it.

~

Dubhghall had his answer. He knew how the
non-standard portal worked. He could have rushed to the second part
of his goal, could have driven Belle to the edge of so much ecstasy
she couldn’t help begging him. Dubhghall didn’t want to do that. He
wanted to take his time.

Belle was trembly and pretty, the next thing
to a virgin in her unfamiliarity with powerful climaxes.

Her hand was rose petal smooth as he took it
to coax her back on the bed. He rolled her under him and kissed
her, reveling in her softness beneath his weight. His forearm
cradled her neck, allowing them to taste each other in comfort. He
ran his other palm under the fleece-lined sweatshirt he presumed
she’d intended to sleep in. The front said
Harvard
, which he
thought was a school. Much more interesting was the absence of a
bra under it.

She gasped into his mouth as his fingers slid
over her silky breast.

He broke the wet kiss to smile at her.
“You’re sensitive.”

“Yes.” She squirmed as his fingertips
contracted gently on one nipple.

“Have you ever come from having your nipples
sucked?”

She shook her head, the blush that sprang to
her cheeks hardening him to the stinging point. John Feeney’s
trousers trapped his erection. Dubhghall had no hand free to adjust
it. For the moment, he ignored his discomfort.

“I’m told it’s a subtle sensation,” he
continued smoothly, watching the pupils of her eyes expand. “Not a
hard climax like you might have if someone were fucking you and
fingering your clitoris at the same time.”

“I’m ... sure I’d remember if it had
happened.”

He wanted to laugh at the break in her voice
but restrained himself. With the tip of one finger he circled a
taut nipple, causing it to bead harder. “I meant if I were to give
you that sort of climax now, you’d have to pay attention.”

“Oh,” she said, her flush truly hectic. “I
... well, I’m sure I’d pay attention if it was you doing it.”

He covered her breast and squeezed. “Perhaps
you could do me a favor first.”

She swallowed. For a moment, he feared she’d
say
anything you want
, and the game he was enjoying would be
over. “What would you like me to do?” she asked.

Bless her and her caution.

“Unzip me,” he said, his voice gravelly
enough to pull a shiver up from her tailbone. “Reach into my
trousers and shift my cock until it points up. Kissing you has
gotten me so stiff I’m uncomfortable.”

She bit her lip, a sudden grin trying to tug
it from her teeth. “I think I can manage that.”

She undid him with less fumbling than she’d
demonstrated during their kitchen encounter. He knew faeries
dazzled humans. They relied on the reaction when traveling in the
mundane realm. Dubhghall liked that she was getting used to
him.

He liked it even better when her slender hand
slipped into his boxers.

He’d lifted his hips so she could move him.
He’d hoped she’d stroke him, and Belle didn’t disappoint. What he
wasn’t prepared for was how spine-tingly good it felt. She gripped
his base and pulled up, not hard but firmly, allowing him to
register her warm snug clasp on every millimeter of stretched skin.
She pulled him again and yet again, his enjoyment building with
each stroke.

“Gosh,” she murmured, her thumb drawing a
circle around his crest.”Your skin is as soft as a baby’s
butt.”

Then she reached lower to cup his balls.

His head jerked back on his neck with
pleasure. He couldn’t speak, the air having solidified in his
lungs.

“Does that feel good?” she asked.

“Unh,” he grunted, shoving his pelvis toward
her. Her fingers tightened around his sac. She was triggering his
treasure-sense, the same that allowed him to sort her uncle’s books
by value. Her palm sent tingles rolling into his balls, as if
he
had hold of a rare diamond. He hadn’t known those
sensations could affect his body here. It felt absolutely
delicious.

“Do that more,” he ordered, his tone of
command somewhat spoiled by his choppy breaths.

“What will you give me in return?” she
purred.

A fae partner might have asked this to drive
a bargain. He suspected Belle’s intent was more playful. Just in
case, he slitted his eyes at her, nudged her sweatshirt over the
breast he held, and sealed his lips to her nipple.

“Mm,” she moaned, his new favorite sound in
the world.

He sucked her deeper, flicking his tongue
over and around the bead. Her hand tightened on his cock, and he
slid his own underneath her sweats into her panties. He stopped
short of touching anything but her labia. Spreading his fingers in
a V, he put a steady but unmoving pressure on her there.

“God,” she gasped, twisting under his hold.
She was so wet he had to maintain the pressure or risk his fingers
slipping off the place he’d chosen. Belle’s breath made an exciting
whining sound. “You’re really going to make me come just by sucking
on my breasts?”

“Uh-huh,” he said and switched to the other
one.

It took ten minutes to fulfill his threat,
every one of them memorable.

She drew a sharp breath before it happened,
tensed, and then rolled over in one slow wave. Dubhghall sucked her
harder to draw the soft climax out. When he let go, she pointed her
toes and stretched.

Songs could have been written about her
sigh.

Rising on his elbows, he smiled into her
flushed face. He kept his hand on her labia, her heat and wetness
apparent as she squirmed. For a human, her normally dark green eyes
were bright. Her fingers came to toy with one of his shirt
buttons.

“I see what you mean,” she said. “That was
nice but not intense. And it kind of makes me want a harder one
right away.”

“Does it
kind of
?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, shoving his
breastbone in revenge for his mockery.

He let her shove him far enough to tear off
his outer and inner shirts, too hot for them anyway. Belle was fun
with her confidence on the rise.

“So pretty,” she murmured, trailing her
fingers down his torso.

He rewarded her for that by dragging her
baggy sweatpants off her legs, which went on for lovely miles.
Belle shed her top herself. As she lay back, gloriously naked and
almost
abandoned, the white coverlet brought out the shades
of rose in her skin.

“I like those clothes,” he observed, rubbing
her beautiful relaxed thighs. “They kept you nice and warm for
me.”

“Better than Victoria’s secret?”

He gathered from her wagging brows that this
was a joke. Unaware who Victoria was, he smiled and took her
unresisting knees in his hands. He pulled them widely apart.

“Oh,” she said, startled but interested.

Dubhghall grinned. “You did mention you
wanted a harder climax right away.”

“I did, but -”

He slung her right leg over his left
shoulder, then did the same on the other side. He was sitting on
his heels, and her hips were well off the bed.

“I’m off balance,” she said breathily.

His hands were under her bottom, his
fingertips massaging a knot of tension in the small of her back.
Since she was in no danger of falling, he suspected her sense of
being off balance wasn’t physical.

Gratified for reasons that were very male, he
lowered her and dropped onto his forearms. “Better?”

He growled the question against her mons. She
wiggled, self-conscious about pushing her sex in his face the way
she obviously wanted to.

“Um,” she said. “Yes?”

Dubhghall solved her dilemma by planting his
mouth on her. That was a pleasure that overwhelmed. She was nectar
to him: her taste, her heat, her groans and squirms exciting him
beyond bearing. His cock began to drip pre-ejaculate on the bed. He
wanted her, but he wanted her pleasure more. Humans were so damn
thrilling when they were aroused. Belle might have been the most
thrilling he’d ever known.