Naughty Bits 2 (21 page)

Medusa clenched her fingers on his sides, nails digging into his skin. Uphir showed no sign of it, lifting his upper body, locking his arms on either side of her shoulders, his hard cock heavy on her belly.

“This is for you, as well,” he said. “Do you refuse it?” He pushed his groin against hers, the lips of her pussy opening against his balls. He rocked back and then in again, stroking her too-sensitive flesh with his, squeezing his cock between their bellies. The wiry curls on his sac chafed against her, a maddening mix of pain and pleasure.

Lust overpowered the small flash of panic. Her legs opened wider, his knees coming up to spread her further. “If it's a gift then give it to me.”

“It is a gift. But you'll have to take it,” he said, his eyelids low, his voice a heated whisper.

Medusa glanced down her body at the hard shaft of his sex pressed between them. Uphir raised his body, rocked back as she reached for him. She caught him. Her fingers wrapped around his fat cock. She stroked him once, and then again, watching how his eyes fluttered each time, how his hips rolled to help drive the motion.

She angled the thick shaft toward her entrance, and teased the velvety smooth head through her folds. So soft, so perfectly made to touch her there. She closed her eyes, enjoying the zing of sensation tingling through her sex.

Uphir moaned, then gasped when she nearly slipped his cock inside her. “You mean to torture me?”

“To torture us both. And what sweet torture it is,” she said, then pulled his cock to her pussy and thrust herself against him.

Such a shocking difference from his finger. His cock filled
her, stretched her and drove deeper still. She could hardly breathe for the tight fit of him, for the fast pull of pleasure drawing from every corner of her body down toward her womb. His body met hers, the juice of her sex wetting his belly, his balls, and Uphir pulled back.

His long, muscled body set a rhythm, pumping in and out of her, growing fast, going deep, thrusting harder. She reached up to feel the roll of muscles on his arms, the flex and pull across his back, over his ass. Such pure male power, pounding into her, claiming her in the most primal way, just as she claimed him.

She was a goddess, stronger than any man, human or demon, but still he could wound her. He hadn't. He'd given her what no other man had: himself…willingly.

Uphir's breaths grew shallower, and a fine sheen of sweat slicked over his skin. His locked arms bent, dropping to press a kiss to her lips, his hips still pumping his cock in and out of her body. Salty-sweet, the taste of him filled her mouth, swam through her senses as the musky scent of their lovemaking dizzied her brain. So human.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his thighs, and rode the earthen waves of the bed beneath them. That familiar pressure swelled inside her, tightening the muscles of her sex. She squeezed hard to feel every bump and vein along his cock. His thrusts came hard and wild, his balls slapping against her ass, so that the sound of flesh smacking flesh filled the night air.

Her heart pounded a frantic beat in her chest, filling her ears, rocketing red-hot blood through her veins, electrifying her senses. She held her breath, squeezing around every part of Uphir she could. And then suddenly…she let go.

Like a cup overfilled, her release spilled over her, washing through her body, fluttering through her sex. Uphir gave a breath-stealing thrust, ramming deep inside her, then held
himself there, riding the spasms of her body, letting her sex milk his, bringing him over with her into bliss.

His body relaxed on top of her and she could feel his exhale shake through him. He wrapped his arms around her, pushing under her, hugging her as his cock slipped from her sex and he slid to lie at her side. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, her hair a tangled blanket around his head.

“You smell so good, little goddess. I'd be a happy man to live the rest of my days swimming in the scent of you.” He kissed her neck warmly and gently, and Medusa let go of her last thread of concern.

If ever two creatures were meant for each other it was them. She knew it the way she knew the sun would rise within the hour, the way she knew the ocean would ebb from the shore. It simply was as it should be, as it must be, as they were meant to be.

Medusa closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of his powerful male body against her, his steady breaths warming her skin, slowly lulling her to sleep.

HER FACE WARMED BENEATH THE MORNING
sun, and Medusa opened her eyes, stretched the sleep from her body across the hard earthen bed. While she slept her will had faltered, and the magical, liquid quality of the dirt had returned to its natural state. Still, the silk-and-down mattress remained as it was, blissfully soft beneath her.

And what a sleep it had been—sated as never before, in the arms of a man she trusted. The feeling was wonderfully new and brought a smile to her face before she'd finished stretching. She rolled toward Uphir and only then realized she was alone…as always.

Her stomach twisted, soured, and she pushed up to sit. The cushion was empty beside her; not even the warmth or impression of Uphir's body remained. How long ago had he left? Medusa blinked at the empty bed, her mind scrambling to understand. Where was he? She scanned the rooftop, the morning sun peeking between the battlements. There was no sign of Uphir.

Had he really sneaked away while she slept? She'd given herself to him and he'd taken her greedily, made her trust him. Then he'd left her?

She swallowed down the clog of emotion at the back of her
throat, reality seeping into her brain, banishing her silly romantic thoughts.
Of course he did. He's a demon. He's a man.

Medusa turned away from the emptiness he'd left, swung her feet to the floor. How could she have been so blind, so easily seduced? Was she truly so desperate? Had she learned nothing over the centuries?

She reached for her dress, still crumpled in a pile on the castle roof, and stood. Her belly rolled, and her chest ached as though a blade pierced straight through to her soul. She clutched her tunic to her breast, closed her eyes and tried to will her frantic heart to calm.

A sob pressed up through her throat; she clenched her jaw, refusing it. Her lungs burned, her breath coming too quickly, too shallowly. She shut her eyes tight against the sting of tears welling behind her lids. She would not give him the satisfaction. She would not allow herself to crumble so easily.

Medusa was not so fragile, not so female, as to allow a man to bring her to her knees with a simple slight. She sucked in a deep breath, gazing toward the bright blue morning sky, blinking away those wretched tears. She reclaimed her composure inch by inch. She was a goddess after all. What need did she have for a man—demon or not?

She straightened the fabric of her dress, slipped it over her head and smoothed the lines past her hips until it hung loosely to her ankles. With a flick of her wrist she dismantled the hideous bed, a reminder of a weakness she hadn't known she possessed. The materials melted into the floor, molecules shifting, bending to her will. The layer of dirt thickened, spreading evenly beneath her feet.

Medusa watched, unaffected by the working of her power. There was a time she'd marveled at her abilities. Not today. Not anymore. She was alone and her power was a cold comfort when she was faced with the eternity of her existence.

A chill iced her spine at the thought of the years upon years
that stretched before her. Her stomach sank inside her, making her feel ill and hollow at once. Such thoughts had never occurred to her before last night. If only she could take back the last few hours.

A hard pinch squeezed her chest at the thought, and she knew that, despite herself, she wouldn't want to give back her time with Uphir. Goddess, what was wrong with her?

Medusa pulled another breath of crisp morning air into her lungs and took the few steps to where her leather sandals lay. She slipped them on then moved farther toward the edge of the roof.

It wasn't a conscious decision to follow the same path she'd taken last night as she climbed between the battlements and down to the erotic gargoyle. But this time, when she leaned over and saw the great stone expanse of his wings, the hard round of his head, the dull points of his ears, she mentally chastised herself for waiting so long to check.

Her heart pounded, the beating so fast she was dizzy with it. He hadn't left her. Just like her will, whatever power had made him flesh must have waned during the night and returned him to his cursed perch on the side of the ancient castle.

Medusa kicked off her sandals again and scurried over the wall. She wasn't sure what power or will had worked its magic last night to free them both from their lonely prisons, but she'd find a way to unlock its secrets and take back the only real happiness, the only true pleasure, she'd ever known.

She made it down to him in seconds, straddling his bent knees, finding the tiniest bit of room beyond his stone-hard cock to sit. The cool shaft pressed along her belly, stirred memories of the night before and sent them warming through her pussy.

Her hand cupped his cheek; his mouth was frozen in the same joker's grin, and she gazed into his stone-gray eyes. “Come back to me, demon. I command it.”

Seconds passed without so much as a flicker of life. Her
belly clenched, her mouth going dry. She licked her lips, caressed a hand over his head. “Turn flesh for your little goddess, demon…please. Uphir…
please
.”

Nothing. His cold eyes gazed wide and empty; his clawed fingers and toes stayed as they were, clutching the corner wall behind him. Her thumb traced over the hard ridge of his lips, following the curve of his grin, touching the dull points of his teeth.

Medusa leaned close, ignoring the stab of his stone erection against her belly, and pressed her lips to his. She tried with all her heart to soften his mouth on hers, to will him to return her kiss, but nothing happened. She drew back, licked the grit from her lips, ignoring the cold chill of stone on her skin.

Her throat tightened, sorrow squeezing through her chest. She blinked back the sting of tears and dropped her gaze between them. There was one more thing she could try. Even Uphir had believed her nectar, the cream of her body, had brought him to life. She had to try.

Far below, Paris was slowly waking. The distant sounds of car horns, of merchants opening their shops for the day, edged at the corners of her consciousness. At any moment someone could look up and see her clinging to the side of the castle, fucking a stone monster. She didn't care.

One arm wrapped around his neck, holding her to him, Medusa used her free hand to hike up her dress. She pushed up, her feet wedged between his calves and the wall, and centered her sex over his. She didn't care how dry she was, how harsh the invasion of cold, hard stone would be. It didn't matter.

Her lover's cock pushed inside her, spreading the lips of her sex, stretching her muscles, chafing her most sensitive skin. She dropped lower, impaling herself with the stone shaft, forcing it deeper and deeper. Her pussy clenched in protest, her inner walls burning against the rough friction. She lowered herself
another inch, then another, until her ass met the cold chill of his stone lap.

Medusa exhaled the breath she'd been holding, tried hard to relax, to loosen her muscles, to want Uphir in stone as much as she had once before. Impossible.

How could she? Now that she knew what it felt like—velvet flesh, firm but giving, sliding in and out of her body, stroking her in ways nothing else could. He fit her perfectly. His body was made for hers.

The stone shaft was a poor substitute. How could she live an eternity without feeling him thick and alive inside her? She wanted to feel him now, warm and firm, filling her, his body flexing to fit her, stroking through the subtle contours of her body.

Medusa rocked her hips, the memory of his warm flesh pressing into her, clouding her thoughts, sending a wave of heat washing through her veins, slicking her sex. She rocked again, lifted from his lap and slid down again. Breath-shaking tingles rippled through the sensitive walls of her pussy, coaxing her to move again and again.

Sensation hummed along her skin, coiling through her muscles, forcing her heart to beat faster. Her womb clenched, holding for a few minutes more. She pumped her body harder, faster, losing herself to her memories, finding pleasure in so much less. Pressure built inside her, like the fast rise of a rain-drenched river, pushing at her skin, promising a gushing release.

She gave in to that need, that promise, letting her memories do as much for her as the rough friction stroking through her pussy. Medusa squeezed her thighs against the hard waist of the gargoyle, her sex muscles fluttering through the rolling waves of her orgasm. Her come streamed down the stone shaft plunged deep inside her, wet her thighs, creamed the cheeks of her ass.

But Uphir remained unchanged. It didn't work. Her body's craving for him was not the magic elixir they'd thought. Medusa framed his catlike face in her hands, her sorrow teetering on the edge of anger.

“Uphir, why is this happening? Why let me taste what I cannot have? Why show me the loneliness of my existence, if only to make the coming eternity more poignant? Are you so cruel, Uphir?” Her voice trembled. She struggled with all her will not to cry. She leaned her forehead against his, the stone chilling through her skin.

“Daughter, why do you offer this stone beast the magic of your body?”

Medusa snapped her head up and met the eyes of the goddess Athena, gazing over the edge of the castle at her. Even knowing the power of Athena's beauty, Medusa gasped in the face of it.

Raven-black hair spilled over her shoulders, so stark against the white of her robes every strand seemed luminous. Her eyes were like pools of blue sky, bluer than anything on earth. And when she smiled, her rose-red lips curved soft and moist. A sweet flush warmed her skin down her slender neck and colored the pale skin of her ample breasts. She was woman personified—beauty, grace. She was a goddess.

“Mother. You've come. Oh, blessed are you to have heard my cries.”

“Of course I heard your cries, child, as well as the mewling prayers of that beast whose cock you've plunged into your womb,” she said. “Unsheathe yourself from that creature, daughter. You've played enough havoc with my punishments for one day.”

Medusa, so thrilled to see the powerful goddess, obeyed without question, scrambling up the wall, slipping between the battlements to stand before her. “Sweet goddess Athena, it's a miracle. I'm in love. Love at first sight. There could be no
other way for me. We were meant for each other.” She clasped her hands together at her chest. “Oh, please, Mother. Free him. Give him to me and me to him.”

Athena rolled her beautiful eyes and shifted her weight to one hip, her slender arms crossed beneath her bosom. “Not you, too? All night that daft fool's prayers battered at me. ‘Keep me flesh, goddess. I cannot bear to leave her. She won't survive it, nor will I.'” Athena scoffed. “He dares to swear his love to you when he refused me a simple poke? The impudence.”

Medusa blinked, understanding dawning slowly. “But surely it's as you planned. No other man can gaze upon me without turning to stone. You wouldn't deny me such a perfect match, perfect happiness, to spite him.”

“No?” Athena strolled to the edge of the castle, peering down at the creature she'd frozen there. “I make you a goddess, gift you with immeasurable power, and how do you thank me? By freeing that selfish, cocksure demon. I was not at all pleased at having to spare him a thought so as to return him to his punishment.”

“You took him from me?” Medusa's gut twisted.

Athena's narrow black brows knitted. “Of course. He wouldn't have gone on his own.”

“But…why? Mother, I love him.”

The goddess scoffed. “You can't. You are vengeance, daughter. Flawless in your design, untouchable, unswayable by the seductive influences of men.”

“Save one,” Medusa said. “Uphir. And he loves me.”

The goddess glanced over the edge again, then back to Medusa, her brows high. “Love? Him? He's a selfish, womanizing hedonist. He can't love anyone or anything more than he loves himself. Women swoon at his feet with the slightest crook of his finger. He has no respect for the female gender.”

“I didn't swoon at his feet,” Medusa said, closing the distance between them. “I tried to turn him to stone.”

The goddess laughed and the sound was like the tinkling of tiny bells. “Oh, Medusa, my daughter. You do lift my spirits. But you are a goddess, and he is a lowly demon. Oil and water, my dear. You cannot mix.”

“Then I don't want to be a goddess anymore. End me now. I can't bear the thought of eternity unloved.”

Athena huffed. “Such drama. Shall we first see if your sacrifice is appreciated?”

The raven-haired goddess flicked her wrist over the edge of the castle and an instant later, Uphir stood at her side. His massive stone-gray wings flapped once, twice, before he folded them neatly behind him.

His dark, gargoyle eyes took in the scene. “Athena. It's good to see you again. By good I mean, seeing anything is better than being locked in stone.”

“My daughter wishes me to free you from your punishment,” Athena said, ignoring his snide remarks. “She's dear to me, demon, so I'll warn you to choose your words wisely. I offer you a choice. Freedom to return to the life you had before. Or an eternity more on that castle wall.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “What's the catch?”

“You can never see, speak to or touch my daughter, Medusa, again. If you do, you will turn to stone like any man who looks upon her.”

Uphir sucked a breath through his nose, his chest swelling as his back stiffened. His gaze shifted to Medusa, the sorrow in his dark, demon eyes almost palpable. “The choice is the same. A life spent in yearning. Set me back on the wall. At least there time passes unnoticed. But first, I beg you, one final kiss from her lips to savor.”

The beautiful goddess rolled her shoulders, a delicate gesture that seemed both innocent and sexy at once. “Granted.”

A clap of thunder rocked through the sky, shook the castle beneath them, and a strange tingling wave washed over
Medusa. She looked at Uphir who, in an instant, shifted to human form, his handsome, sun-kissed face creased, his brows wrinkled as he studied himself.