Dominic (26 page)

“The rest wil go more easily,” he coaxed. He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring the remaining five inches of himself that, with patience, it would

eventual y find itself housed inside her. Or if he was reassuring her, as he had so many other females before her, that his sexual appendage would not split

her asunder.

Like his brothers, he’d never had any trouble attracting women. Legions of them were intrigued by the sight of his broad shoulders and even more

so by the bulge between his thighs. But he’d come to dread the moment they first lay eyes upon his manhood in its naked state.

Females almost universal y claimed to clamor for a large cock. Yet, present them with one of his intimidating magnitude, and they quickly turned

less eager.

A few more inches.

Ah, Gods, he was nearly in.
Poised at the brink of ecstasy, his pulse thundered erratical y. He cupped the rounds of her bottom in both hands,

rocking himself deeper and deeper stil in quick, staccato pumps.

“Mmmm. Yess.” She murmured encouragement, her sexy voice at his ear urging him on.

It was a joy to fuck a female who didn’t grimace as he pierced her, to know for a certainty his impalement wasn’t causing her discomfort. His

hands slid down her thighs and then hooked the backs of her knees, pul ing until they were bent high and wide on either side of him. His palms planted

themselves on the mattress alongside her so his muscled arms held her legs folded upward and apart.

As her hips tilted for him, he drove the rest of the way home. Seating himself deep, he luxuriated in the rare pleasure of finding the entirety of his

shaft ful y encased in a womanly passage.

Ahh…heaven.

She was warm. Tight. Slick.

He was hot. Hard. Hungry.

“That’s…Fuck, that’s good,” he groaned as he ground his groin sensuously over hers.

“Good,” she echoed.

Arching his back, he watched his corpulent prick retreat, newly slicked with her juices. Watched it spear her again in a long, determined stroke,

thrusting so deep that the inky fur of his genitals embraced and enveloped her hairless ones. As her creator, he had determined that the only hair her body

possessed would be eyelashes, eyebrows, and that on the top of her head.

He began rutting her in quick, hard strokes, relishing the sensation of repeatedly plundering the ful , succulent length of her channel. None had ever

brought him more pleasure than the silvery luminescent figure now under him.

He sought to prolong it.

But his cock had a mind of its own, and it twitched with the need to race toward its lascivious goal. Hard hips settled into a familiar thrust and

retreat. He let her legs unfold, and her calves hooked themselves around the backs of his thighs. Mindlessly he worked himself in her, glorying in the

massage of her inner tissues.

His elbows dug into the mattress, and his fingers dove into her luxurious hair, holding her for his kiss. “How can you not be aware, damn you,” he

muttered against her lips. “You taste Human, feel Human, look Human—except for that skin.”

Those remarkable eyes only blinked at him, devoid of emotion. Ducking his head, he grazed her throat with the rasp of teeth and mouth. It was

because she was his favorite that he never looked too deeply into her eyes. He accepted insentience in other Shimmerskins as inevitable. However,

something within him needed to foster the il usion that this female was ful y alive. That she was capable of enjoying him as thoroughly as he did her.

“I am, Vincent,” she assured him.

Though he knew it was only his unvoiced wish that had prompted her statement, it nevertheless ratcheted his need to a fever pitch. The lustful

blood of the ancient Satyr thrummed hotter, a hectic, carnal drumbeat in his veins.

Her tender, naked pussy sucked at him, enticed him, nudging him al too quickly toward climax.
No!

He wanted this first fuck of the night to last. If he could, he would prolong it indefinitely. If he could, he’d strap her to his chest and keep his cock

lodged inside her day and night. If—

Soft fingers grazed his thigh, surprising him, for he hadn’t requested such a caress. Though her touch was butterfly light, it was enough to make

him lose the tenuous grip he had on his control.

His strokes turned more vigorous. Lengthened. Strengthened. The muscles of his biceps bulged, and his fingers raked into the bed linens on

either side of her, crushing and twisting.

Flesh and bone slammed together in loud, rhythmic slaps that echoed in the stil ness of the darkened room. Cum gathered in his bal s, readying.

The sound of her breath as it caught in shal ow, irregular gasps excited him. But stil , he needed more. He needed her to…

Want me
.

In this silent request, he wasn’t asking that she only want his fucking, but that she want every part of him. Heart, mind, body, and soul. It was a

ridiculous, impossible requirement. His brothers already suspected he was addicted to her. He was glad they weren’t here now to witness how right they

were. They wouldn’t understand it.
He
didn’t understand it.

She lifted a hand to his cheek and tried to catch his eyes, and fool that he was, he let her. “Yes, yes, Vincenzo, I want you.”

The sentiment was undoubtedly false, but his body didn’t care. Sapphire tangled with violet as his desire rose to a painful pitch. With broad hands

he gripped her hips and angled her to receive one last, savage penetration that shoved them both a foot across the feather mattress.

Every muscle and tendon in his body wrenched taut as he hung on the precipice of ecstasy for a suspended, agonizing, blissful moment. Cum

frothed and then sizzled its way into the thick duct along his root, coursing up his considerable length. And then final y, final y…it erupted from him.

A low, primitive sound escaped him at the glorious, indescribable sensation of imparting seed. An earthy moan rose in her, escaping her throat as

a joyful, feminine cry that curled around his soul.

Like a row of talented fists aligned along his cock, her tissues milked at him, oiled him with the stimulating aphrodisiac of her body’s cream.

Forgotten for the moment was the fact that hers was simply an automatic orgasm response, that a Shimmerskin’s release was infal ibly triggered by that

of a Satyr male.

He pul ed back and drove home again. His body surrounded hers, moved with hers, over hers, and in hers. Again and again he gave his

masculine gift to her in hot, fluid spurts. Distantly he heard her murmur to him, felt her inner tissues convulse as his seed soaked them, drenched them,

flooded them.

Long moments later, he lay sprawled over her, stil buried inside her, his lust only momentarily banked. He experienced no belated concern that

she might have communicated some vile disease or that she might have conceived his bastard. Her kind were incapable of doing either.

Her fingers played in his hair, combing it lightly, caressing his cheek, his shoulders, the smooth muscles of his back. Again he fleetingly wondered

why she was touching him when he hadn’t specifical y Wil ed it, but for the moment he didn’t care.

He raised on one elbow to gaze down at her, mesmerized by her remarkable beauty. He had only himself to congratulate for it. He’d given

extensive consideration to her creation. His brothers rarely spent so much energy designing feminine receptacles for their cum, nor brought forth the

same one more than a few times.

He’d first conjured her just over a year ago on his twenty-sixth birthday. Before and since then, he had cal ed forth others of her ilk.

However, she was the only one he had ever summoned repeatedly. The only one who was constantly in his thoughts. By now, he had fucked her

dozens of times. Hundreds. He should have grown bored with her.

But he hadn’t.

It worried him on occasion. Sometimes he even denied himself, seeing how long he could go without her, but their eventual reunions only proved

al the more urgent because of his abstinence.

He lowered his head, kissing her throat.

“Where do you go when I am done with you?” he whispered against soft, radiant skin.

“Away,” she told him.

“To where? To what place?”

Her reply, when it came, was barely audible. “To nothing. To nowhere.”

Hours later, he eased from her for a final time and fel exhausted upon the mattress beside her. His satiated penis lay half wilted on his left thigh,

drained after countless climaxes. Even in repose, it remained partial y tumid and embarrassingly majestic.

It pained him to know his companion would momentarily shimmer away into the ether, now that he no longer had physical need of her. He felt her

flutter the coverlet over him as he drifted toward slumber.

“Stay,” he commanded, knowing she would not.

2

T
he next morning, Vincent awoke to two realizations.

His cock was rock hard.

And there was a woman in his bed.

The first was far from an unusual circumstance. The second was extraordinary.

On al the previous occasions that he’d visited a bedchamber other than his own, he’d always been scrupulously careful to absent himself from it

wel before dawn. Without exception. And never in his twenty-seven years had he taken a Human female into his own bed.

He assessed his situation.

Her back was tucked to his chest. The room was dim, though the morning sun was already smirking at him through the un-curtained window,

amused at his predicament. The ashes in the fireplace appeared cold. And his bed reeked of sex.

His left arm was slung around a sloping waist, and his hand reposed between a pair of voluptuous breasts. His fingers were entangled in long

blond hair. Al of which defined the body he held as unquestionably female. Crumpled bed linens draped her from the waist down.

His mind worked, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. He’d bedded a Shimmerskin. But the moment his mind had calmed with

sleep, she would’ve disappeared. She couldn’t have continued to exist without his conscious Wil .

This woman must therefore be someone else. Someone Human.

When a man of his rank in society slid his cock through the ring of muscle guarding a decent woman’s hymen, he may as wel have slid a wedding

ring upon his finger. Was he soon to be wed, despite his objections?

Did he owe her an apology? Had he forced her? Hurt her? Was she a prostitute who’d tricked her way into his bed?

Who the fuck was she?

He rose on one elbow to look down on her. Her long hair was a lush, pale tangle that obscured half of her face. The other half of her countenance

was buried in the pil ow. No help there.

Whoever she was, she must be removed, and quickly. He had a meeting today in Else World. Negotiations were at a critical juncture, and their

outcome was a burden he bore alone. The process had begun years earlier, initiated by numerous attorneys. However, al those had fal en by the wayside

over the course of time. In fact, the last of them had met with suspicious, fatal accidents in recent months. Leaving him as the sole hope to broker peace.

His companion stirred, snuggled, and then stirred again. The pearly skin of her back brushed against his darker, more heavily muscled flesh, and

his already stiff cock hardened further. Under the covers, his hand shaped her hip, unconsciously massaging as it traveled over the velvet warmth of hip,

bel y, rib, and then breast.

Damnation, if only he could recal her name. Women didn’t appreciate it when a man couldn’t. Even prostitutes could turn sour over such a

misstep. But his mind was a blank on this score.

The morning sun turned more persistent and shifted so it lit her body differently than before. Under its caress, her skin was pale, and more

dazzling than perhaps it should have been. He looked closer, curious. Her skin wasn’t just pale, he realized. It was
luminous
.

Pushing back the blanket, he slid his hand upward along the curve of her waist. In the wake of his touch, her flesh glimmered unnatural y. Her skin

wasn’t just luminous. It was iridescent!

She stretched languidly, sending a seductive wave of glistening pearlescence over her body.

“Fifty thousand hel s!” he roared in shock.

The precise moment the woman realized she was not alone was almost comical y obvious. Her entire body abruptly froze in mid-stretch. In a flurry

of legs and arms, she bolted up on the mattress, twisting the covers into a tangle around her ankles as she scuttled away. Crouching on al fours at the far

precipice of his massive bed, she swung around to confront him.

Her elbows were slightly bent, her knees spread, and her shoulders hunkered. It was a classic pose of fight-or-flight readiness.

They stared at one another with identical expressions of horror.

“You!” burst from each of them simultaneously.

“You’re the Shimmerskin,” he accused. “From last night.”

Confusion entered her expression, but she didn’t respond.

His gaze roamed her body. That she had remained with him after coitus was completed between them last night was a circumstance

unprecedented in the entire history of the Satyr. It was impossible!

Yet here she was. A Shimmerskin. His
favorite
Shimmerskin.

A foolish spurt of joy rose in him. How many times had he privately wished for this very occurrence?

His gaze captured hers and saw that her purple eyes were no longer vacant. They were wild with a shock that matched his own. And with

something else. Fear.

Her gaze darted around his bedchamber as though seeking an avenue of escape.

“I don’t understand. How can you stil be here?” He reached out and touched her arm, intending only to determine for an absolute certainty that she