Content Advisory: m/f intercourse
A hip-high slit in her blue silk evening gown flashed glimpses of her shapely leg. Candlelight darkened her hair to blood red curls, faceted with a myriad of diamonds. Oliver’s fingers itched to reach out, to wrap a thick curl around his hand and haul her against him. Would her body be soft, pliant against his? Would her skin be as silky as her dress?
“A glass of champagne, Mr. Hutchinson?” a waitress asked.
“No,” he glanced to the left and smiled vacantly at her. “The lady in blue silk – do you have her name?”
The pretty blonde server looked over and nodded. “I’ve heard others call her Pascale.”
Hutch let his gaze rove over the object of his desire and the apparent guest of honor. She was, undoubtedly, the most feminine woman he’d ever laid eyes on and helped make the assignment her brothers had given him all the more palatable.
“Thank you,” he smiled at the young woman. She left him to his own devices and he let instinct kick in.
Bold as brass, he stepped up behind the redhead and trailed a finger down her back to where the dip of her dress exposed the upper curve of her ass. Silky smooth and warm, as he’d hoped. She turned and he stepped back, stunned by her incredible beauty and the deep sapphire eyes curiously looking up at him.
“Can I help you?” she gifted him with a brilliant smile. One delicate brow rose in question as she waited for his response.
Hutchinson coughed to dislodge the lump of lust in his throat and nodded. “I hope so. You’re Pascale, correct?”
She nodded and her smile widened. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet,” he grinned and offered her a hand. “Oliver Hutchinson.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hutchinson.” Her eyes traveled over him and the ache in his groin increased. She placed a delicate hand in his. He brought it to his lips as she gave him her name. “Pascale du Tout.”
Oliver smirked as he realized the irony of her name. “Pas du Tout? Your parents had quite the sense of humour.”
“Not at all,” her lips curved. “My mother named me after my father. The play on words couldn’t be helped. Her family name made it a bit of a joke.”
His eyes roved over the ample cleavage and creamy skin above the deep plunge of her neckline. “Sweetheart, you’re anything but a joke. Breathtaking, yes. Heart stopping, absolutely. The object of every man in this room’s desire – hell, yes.”
Her sharp gasp drew his gaze back up to hers and he released her hand, but not before the minutest cascade of power flared between their palms. “You’re…”
“Fae,” he grasped her arm and steered Pascale toward the exit. “Your brothers sent me. Come, I’ll explain my purpose.”
Oliver half-expected her to balk, but she followed willingly as he led her from the room and up the large staircase in the foyer. He nodded to her brother, Beau, as they passed and the other man grinned widely. Interesting, he’d ponder over it later. Beau, Rien and Aime had their reasons for sending him to their sister. Who was he to question their reasons for gifting him to the beautiful woman now following him?
The brother’s had provided a layout of the house’s floor plan to study and Oliver expertly led Pascale to her bedroom, as if he’d been there a dozen times.
“Wait,” she tugged at his hand and drew him to a halt. “Why are we up here? There’s nothing but bedrooms this way.”
“I know,” he admitted. “I have something to give you, and it requires the privacy only a bedroom can afford to present.”
She thwarted his attempt to continue their walk by digging her heels in. “What could a stranger have to give me that would require a bedroom?”
Tugging her close, Oliver brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her. His power flared as her lips parted and she joined in with enthusiasm. Her tongue parried with his, their energies mingling with each push and stroke until they both pulled back, panting.
“Oh, my!” Wide blue eyes blinked up at him and Oliver cursed under his breath. “I’ve never – wow. Do all men of our kind kiss like that?”
A metaphysical virgin. Just perfect. Her darling brothers had left out that important bit of information.
“No,” he groaned and cursed again. “That – what just happened – no.”
Before he could think to pull away, Pascale’s lips mashed to his again and Oliver found himself lost in another earth-shattering kiss. His world tilted on its axis and he knew, before this night was over it would forever be changed to center on the woman pressed to his shirtfront.
“Pas,” he moaned again as he pulled away. “We can’t do this here. Privacy. Gods help me…we need a bedroom and fast.”
Grasping her hand, Oliver raced the last few feet to her bedroom, pulling her along behind him. He threw the door open and kicked it shut as soon as she was through.
Blood pounded in his veins, burning with the need to be inside of her as quickly as their layers of clothing could be shed. His Fae nature screamed for Oliver to take the easy route, but he was determined to give her more than a quick roll between the sheets. Especially on her birthday.
Metaphysically innocent she might be, but the way Pascale stripped for him clarified she was no shy miss in the bedroom. She’d appraised him hungrily, all the while sliding one strap off her shoulder and the next. Her hands caught the material draped over the tops of her breasts and, once she was sure his attention was riveted, let it fall to the carpet. There was barely a whisper as it slithered over her curves. Smirking at the irony of their situation, Oliver ripped off his tie and began undoing the buttons on his vest. He kicked aside the flimsy blue material of her dress as he stepped beside the discarded garment.
High, round breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples bounced under his gaze as she bumped the edge of the bed and relaxed. The heat radiating from her was enough to give a normal man pause and consider what he was getting himself into.
Oliver Hutchinson, however, wasn’t an ordinary man.
Stripped of his jacket, vest and shirt, Oliver caught her by the waist and lifted Pascale onto the massive four poster bed. Her thighs parted and, with a knowing smile, she spread the moist folds of her sex and stroked the glistening nub at the apex of her slit.
“Fuck me,” he ground the words out, dropping to his knees and pushing her hand out of the way. His mouth replaced her fingers, tongue flicking deliberately slow as her flavor coated every taste bud.
Pascale’s fingers sank into his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she pulled him closer. Her hips rose, grinding her delicate flesh against his mouth.
Rotating between long sweeps of his tongue, hungry sucks and light nips, Oliver tasted every fold and crease of her honeyed sweetness. Fairy lights danced around them and he was certain she was about to shatter beneath him.
He pushed two thick digits all the way into her dripping pussy and moaned at how slick he found her. Curving his fingers slightly, he realized how off he’d been in his estimation of her readiness as she climaxed, her walls squeezing around him. As Pascale bucked and whimpered her release, the dizzying light show around them coalesced into a solid luminescent ball and exploded into a shower of fireworks.
Cock straining against the front of his trousers, Oliver flipped the button free and ripped the zipper open. The heavy length of his shaft spilled out, bumping into the cool silk coverlet as he leaned in to kiss Pascale’s belly just below her navel.
The flat of her stomach quivered with each ragged breath she took. He traced the outline of each vibrating muscle with his tongue. Inch after inch of silken skin glistened, laden with lust and her clear desire for him.
Oliver slid his hands up the sides of her tiny waist and cupped the heavy globes of Pascale’s breasts. The rigid tips pressed into his palms as he covered her to ease between her thighs.
He brushed his lips against her and leaned in to whisper, “You’re the most magnificent woman I’ve ever seen.”
Pascale arched up, pressing further into his hands. Her breasts heaved with each intake of breath. “You say that,” she panted, “to all the girls.”
“Maybe,” he bent and flicked the tip of his tongue over the hard pebble of her right nipple. “I mean it this time.”
Hips tilted up to meet his, Pascale ground against him. Oliver hissed with pleasure as his cock pushed into the heat of her slit. He nipped at the underside of her jaw and slid a hand down to lift her left knee over his elbow.
“Let me in, Pascale,” he groaned as the purple helmet of his shaft probed her entrance. “Let me show you what Fae love is like.”
“Yes,” she hooked her other leg around his waist and pulled Oliver closer. With one quick stroke, he pushed in until every inch was buried inside of her tight, slick pussy.
Pausing a moment to savor the molten heat surrounding him, Oliver caught Pascale’s lips in a slow, lingering kiss. He’d had a few Fae lovers in his life, but none compared to the exquisite woman beneath him and what he felt in that moment.
“Oliver” she pleaded and rocked her hips. “Gods, please… Don’t stop now.”
The sharp pinch of her nails into his shoulders pulled Oliver out of his thoughts and zeroed them back in on the lush woman whose walls were clenched tight around his dick, urging him to take what she offered. Damn the consequences waiting for them when they returned to reality. He’d deal with the fallout then.
Biting back a soft curse, Oliver withdrew, pushed back in and gave himself up to the frenzied need boiling in his veins. Pascale’s hips rose to meet his with each thrust. Their bodies flowed together until it was nearly impossible to tell where one started and the other ended.
The fairy lights reappeared but he paid them no mind as they swirled and formed a soft cocoon of light around them. Her soft whimpers and moans turned to cries and pleas for more, for him not to stop. Oliver grunted his agreement and pushed harder with his next thrust.
“Yes,” she cried out as the first spasm squeezed around him. “Oliver… Gods, that’s it. Yes, yes, mmm…yes.”
“Fuck,” Oliver moaned as Pascale’s orgasm clenched around his cock. The familiar tingle started in the base of his spine and his balls drew up tight as the urge to come rode him hard. “Not yet.”
Willing or not, Oliver’s hips locked against hers. He cried out as hot jets of his release pumped into Pascale and her slick channel seized around him again. Oliver cursed as she gripped him and he did something he’d never done before – he came a second time and the fairy lights burst above them like the Aurora Borealis in the night sky.
Spent and breathless, they collapsed together on the bed and Oliver rolled to keep from crushing her beneath him.
“Happy birthday to me,” she panted before laughing softly.
Oliver grinned and leaned in to kiss the curve of her shoulder. “Did you like my version of the birthday bumps?”
“I absolutely did,” she smiled at him. “You give the best birthday bumps. In fact, you did such a great job I’m thinking of keeping you so we can make every day my birthday.”
“You can, if it’s what you wish,” he watched her expression as the serious nature of his words sink in. “The fairy lights have bound me to you. All you have to do is say yes, and I’m yours.”
Pascale’s eyes widened, the newly incandescent glow in them sending shivers down his spine. He waited, breath held in anticipation of her response. She didn’t keep him in suspense for long.
“Yes.”
∞
Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan
Danielle Gavan
Paranormal and Erotic Romance Author
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
There is little more that I love more than anything fae and of course sex. Great post! Thanks for sharing it.
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