Impostors' Kiss (2 page)

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Authors: Renea Mason

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Ghosts, #paranormal romance, #erotic romance

BOOK: Impostors' Kiss
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I lowered my head, allowing black strands of hair to hide my face as I ascended the rickety stairs. Built to support mere mortals, the wood creaked and moaned under my six feet five inches of muscled frame.

I was built for sex. When my goddess designed me, she exacted every detail of human perfection and embellished them to make certain I delivered an experience no man could replicate. The innkeeper’s daughter was about to find out just how meticulous my creator was.

At the end of the hall, the door gaped open, and I saw her. It was late afternoon. The shadow cast by the clouds through the open window caused flickers of sunlight to dance across the brilliant copper and dark rust in her long auburn locks.

I paused. So familiar, yet not her. Would it hurt to pretend? I had so many times before. The beautiful redheaded vision may have eluded me, but tonight in this small village, the innkeeper’s daughter would play her part in my rehearsal. Someday, somewhere, my Light would be mine, but not tonight.

I slowed my steps as I approached her kneeling form. Rhys had blindfolded her. It made things simpler. I couldn't risk that she become a victim of my curse. The goddess was cruel indeed to gift me sexual prowess beyond any man, but deny me the ability to look into my lover's eyes. For to do so would traumatize her beyond any horror. Bloody irony. My curse. True intimacy eluded me, but lust was easily squelched with a little ingenuity.

I towered over her form and looked down on the crown of her head, alive with russet strands of silk.

“Lass, what is your name?”

With her arms hanging limp at her sides, she whispered, “Celestine.”

I knelt beside her and brushed the tips of my fingers through her hair. “Celestine,” I breathed in her ear. “That is a beautiful name. Do you know why I’m here?”

She shivered, her voice rough, “Yes.”

“Have you lain with a man?” Rhys seemed certain, but he had been lied to before. I continued to brush her hair in long, soothing strokes—twirling my fingers in the soft, lazy curls.

“Yes.” She gulped and muscles under the skin of her forearms trembled.

My cock stirred. “Did you enjoy it?” I stroked a finger under her chin. She swallowed hard but did not answer.

“Celestine?” I traced her cheek and she flinched. I paused. My brow furrowed. It would be easy just to take what I wanted. Needed.

“No need to answer.” I cupped her cheek and pressed my forehead against hers. She did not resist, but swayed when I entered her mind. I found all the answers I needed. Abuse. Subjugation. She was currency and nothing more. But beyond the hurt that encased her heart, a love for the father who neglected and misused her ran absolute. This was her duty, and it required her to surrender her identity.

She wobbled as I released her mind. I grabbed her arm, steadying her. She didn’t inquire about what happened. She remained motionless, waiting.

“Young lady, your father offered you as payment. You are a token of his gratitude to me for my saving your brother’s life. What do you have to say to that?”

“What do you wish?”

I hesitated. The war of need and right waged within me. My cock was two-steps ahead, but would be disappointed this night. I would love nothing more than to sink into the beauty before me and pretend she was the green-eyed lover from my dreams, but I would not place myself among the list of those who victimized her. Her mind was beautiful, pure, and gasped for freedom.

“A kiss. That’s what I desire.”

“As you wish.” She forced a pucker with her lips and leaned in, but the blindfold gave her lousy aim. I had intended for a peck on the cheek, but instead her lips landed against mine.

I pulled back for a moment, cradled her face in both my hands, closed my eyes, wet my lips, and then enveloped hers. Tugging, I parted her mouth and began my dance. It wasn’t fair. Though I could never love her, I could show her what it was like to love someone. What I shared was the kiss I would give my mystical lover when I finally met her.

My tongue parted her mouth, and I grasped the back of her head with one hand, forcing her closer. I poured my soul into the lesson, speeding up and slowing down to linger, caress, and then begin again.

In my finale, I pressed my forehead against hers once more as our lips parted. My chest heaved with heavy breaths, and her panting sigh fueled my ego.

Her face flushed and the scent of her arousal hit me, making my task that much more difficult.

“My sweet. Will you do me a favor?”

“Of course. I’m yours for the evening.”

“I think you misunderstand. You’re debt has been paid.” I clasped her hands in mine. “First, you will tell your father I was pleased.” I let out a deep sigh. “After that, I want you to find a man who kisses you just as I did. When you do, I want you to leave this place with him. Have no doubt, a kiss such as that is one powered by love. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded.

I kissed her on the forehead, then reached around and untied her blindfold, dropping it to the floor beside her. I rose and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

In the hallway, I paused, took a deep breath, and willed my body to calm down. I wanted her in so many ways, but it was Stanton who’d taught me that taking advantage of free will was one thing, while imposing my needs had lasting consequences. For many centuries, Rhys or one of my other family members always secured me a room to retreat to in just these cases.

I had a singular focus upon entering the room. I wasn’t capable of sleep, but tending to myself was in order. As I loosened the laces on my leather pants, I was thankful that bitch of a goddess allowed me to keep my thumbs. My swollen, ready cock poked through the laces, and I grasped it, hard, then stroked it several times before sitting on the edge of the bed to remove my boots. I pulled on the laces of each, held them by the sole, and slipped them off. I stood and removed my pants, freeing my straining member.

Not every encounter ended with me fisting my cock. Sometimes, I got lucky and my encounters were naughty, wanton vixens. I gave them what they asked for, but rarely did things work out when one didn’t come to me of their own free will. Given what I was capable of, upholding my oath was paramount. Supernatural or not, men did what was necessary to satisfy their desires. I was no different.

I had no shirt to remove, since it had been used for bandages, so I lay down on the bed, prepared to daydream of
her,
the one with ivory soft skin and plump red lips. If only I knew her name. She was always in the forefront of my mind, beautiful and outlined in white luminescence. My light. I had to believe she would one day save me from myself—and this curse. If it were only a delusion, then at least hope would be my constant companion.

I closed my eyes and answered the need. Grasping my cock hard, I slid my fingers up and down my shaft, allowing the liquid that seeped from the tip to lubricate my efforts.

Moaning from the wave of pleasure that flooded through my head, I increased the pace with the image of her lips taking the place of my hand.

An unexpected gasp caused me to sit up and reach for my weapon. Before I pulled the sword at my feet free from the sheath, I registered her form. Celestine.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…” She looked down at the floor, her beautiful hair covering her face. In one hand she held the blindfold.

“Think nothing of it.” I stared at the floor knowing at any moment she could make eye contact. My cock pointed toward my face and mocked me with subtle twitches. It wasn’t going to settle.

“I mean… I… You’re not hideous.”

I laughed. “Well, thank you.” She needed to leave; every moment she remained, she risked my cock winning this battle of wills.

“You are beautiful.” The awe in her voice was tangible. “I’ve never seen a man like you.”

“Nor will you again.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t mean to be rude but what brings you to my quarters? Is there something you need?” Stanton’s lectures in my head were dangerously close to being slain by my all-powerful demon lust. I needed her to leave.

“Your arms…it’s stunning.”

I should have been insulted. My cock stood at full attention, ready, weeping even, and she focused on my arms. A product of my journey to this world, the branching patterns that covered my skin were scars—a painful reminder of where I came from. Humans found them fascinating, but that was usually with my pants on.

“It’s a…birthmark.” I tried to hold back my irritation, but the words were forced through clenched teeth. “As I said, was there something you needed?”

“Who is she?”

This was not a question I expected. Even though I was comfortable being nude, most humans were not. I saw in her mind what horrors men had bestowed upon her. The massive erection I sported should have frightened her, but with each quick glance I made in her direction, I saw she stood firm and resolute, while twirling the blindfold between her fingers.

“Who?” Not the time to speak riddles.

“The woman for whom that kiss was intended.”

“Oh.” I brushed my hands through my hair. The long, black strands fell one by one back into place. I sighed. “She’s my love. My light. But she is out of reach.”

“I have a confession.”

Where was Stanton when I needed him? Confessions were not my strong suit. When I’d created Stanton to save the dying son of an influential miner, it was my closest friend, a priest, who offered the third soul to form the trinity needed to create a new being. He embodied compassion and restraint. This was his territory, not mine.

“If you must.”

“I have received that kiss before. He left for war and never returned. My father says he’s lost to us, but I don’t believe him. I feel him in here.” She placed her hand over her chest. “He’s still out there.”

I had been so distracted by her abuse and my own selfish disappointment, I’d failed to see her love. She was as much a victim of hope as me. Now with every passing moment she lingered, my patience wore thin, or perhaps it was my control.

“I’m sorry. But why are you here?”

“Let me be her.”

“Who?”

“Your light. For just this night.” She took a step toward me.

“Celestine, I don’t need your sympathy. I can handle my…situation.”

Another step. “It’s not for you.” Her last word caught in her throat. She swallowed audibly. “It’s for…me.”

I wanted so bad to look into her eyes, but knew better. I vacillated between elation and irritation. Why was she doing this to me? I did not reply.

“Pour all of your love for her into me. All I ask is that you allow me to do the same.”

Speechless. Every time I became convinced humanity was damned, a creature like Celestine surfaced to remind me why my oath held so much importance.

Stanton would never call me a humanitarian for indulging her, but how could I not? I did not respond, instead watched her tiny bare feet walk toward me.

She placed her hand on my arm and climbed onto the straw-stuffed linens that composed my bed. The ropes squeaked and groaned under her weight. From behind, she looped the blindfold over my eyes and tied the cloth around my head, careful not to pull my hair.

“From this moment on, I am your light. You are blind to any other reality.”

“Do you not wish to know my name?”

“It matters not. Tonight you are my Ian.”

With that, I turned, grasped her head in my hands, and smothered her mouth with mine. My love for my chosen was powerful and consuming.

“I don’t know if I can be gentle. It’s not my style.”

“I would expect no less.”

I laced my fingers in her hair and forced her against my lips. My tongue pushed into her mouth, and she returned the kiss with fervor.

“I’ve waited so long.” Her white peasant dress hung loose at the shoulders, allowing me to slide it down her arms with ease. Once she was exposed to me, I cupped her cheeks with both hands and then trailed them down her neck and across her collarbone, landing on her breasts. Full, round mounds filled my hands. I squeezed, feeling the taut peaks press into my palms. She moaned.

With slow, lazy circles I teased her nipples, rubbing them hard and then pulling back so they received a feather-light touch. She arched into my hand.

“You tease,” she accused.

“Yes.” I dipped my head and sucked one taut nipple into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue. With my other hand I caressed and stroked the tip of the other with my thumb.

She cooed and panted as I sucked and nibbled until I couldn’t wait any longer. I reached between us, loosened the lacing on her under bust corset, and placed my hand on her hip, coaxing her to stand, allowing the dress to fall free to the floor.

Being blinded made everything feel more real. This was my destined lover, not a young woman with a generous gift. In this moment, she was mine and I was hers. The thought of belonging to someone after millennia alone was frightening, but liberating.

The cloth made a subtle whoosh as it landed on the floor. I reached out and caressed her sides, trailing fingers down and over her full hips. I pulled her to me, then rested my stubbled face against her stomach as I wound one hand around her thigh and coaxed her legs apart.

“Open for me.”

She did as I asked and my fingers soon encountered her soft, moist curls. I was pleased. Her body wanted this as much as mine. She was drenched with desire.

“You are so soft. So wet.” I ran my index finger between her swollen lips, sliding it back and forth until I encountered the tiny nub.

“Please.” She sighed and pressed her mound against my palm.

“Do not worry. I will not leave you disappointed. But I am a large man, and I want no doubt that you are prepared.” I increased the rhythm with my finger, this time penetrating her with just the tip on each down-stroke.

“I want you to come for me. Show me how much your body wants me inside you.”

I pulled her closer, and she writhed against me.

“Yes. Too long. Please.” A long groan left her lips as I plunged my finger deep inside. She gasped when I added the second, stretching her channel.

My hand moved faster and my lips kissed the soft skin below her breast. I pulled her tighter, delving deeper with each thrust, curving my finger to find that place that ached to be touched.

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