Part of the NAUGHTY CHANCES boxed-set, available for download December 1st
Click here to pre-order now from Amazon
Blurb: In the Readem and Reap casino on the edge of the Megaverse, Nightwind
Ardian Cree may lose his life-mate with the draw of a card. Will luck be
on his side or will he lose everything he holds dear?
Genre/theme: Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Copyright ©Charlotte Boyett-Compo, 2015
Excerpt:
Ardian
ran his hand through his hair as he paced. His lady had gone into the bathroom
to take a shower. The sweet smell of the
an
Tuirc tobacco many of the patrons in the casino smoked from hookahs clung
to her clothing and had given her a bad headache. He could hear the shower
going and thought of joining her.
‘He may demand you hand over what is
yours to him
.’
The
memory of those words stopped him from following her into the shower.
A
low growl rumbled from his throat. He went to the porthole and activated the
shutter that covered the plexigon to keep out the bright sun. Staring out at
the wide vista of swaying palm trees, sparkling white sands and gently crashing
waves, it was hard to imagine any kind of calamity looming on the horizon.
People were running along the beach, tossing flying disks to one another,
playing volleyball, lounging on towels after a brisk swim in the azure water—all
perfectly content that everything was right in their worlds. They were at the
resort to have fun, to relax, to leave their troubles behind. Not a one of them
expected those troubles to come looking for them.
As
his might be coming to find him.
Cursing,
he spun away from the window.
Why hadn’t he answered the Prime’s summons
when it came? he wondered. He’d heard the low, insistent whistle that night
but he’d ignored it. The trip to the resort would be the very next morning.
Boarding passes on the Fiach bound for Lycana were in his overnight bag. All
the pertinent bloodwork and DNA samples had been taken by the Healer on
Margeaux’s home world. Their heat sigs had been read and forwarded to Lycana.
They had been approved and their travel visas issued. All was in readiness. The
only thing left to do was pack and board and flee the harsh winter that had
brought her world almost to a standstill.
The
summons had come while he lay in bed beside his life-mate. It had wound through
his head like a deadly ghoret and struck hard before he willed it away.
“Not
now,” he’d said with a fierce growl.
Margeaux
was more important to him than anything else and her happiness was his
happiness.
It
had taken him months—months—to coax her from her house and into the yard.
Severely agoraphobic, it had taken even more months to get her to venture into
the closest town for less than an hour. With him at her side, the fear and
incapacitation she had known, that had crippled her, slowly dwindled until she
was almost at ease in the world beyond her little house. When the day came that
she asked him to take her off-world, he had known an elation more wonderful
than when he had been released from the Abyss. Nothing would stop him from
giving her the vacation she’d asked for. That was all that mattered to him. The
Nightwind Prime could just hold his water until they returned to her home
world.
Slumping
down on the sofa in the sitting area of their suite, he dropped his head into
his hands, grabbed handfuls of his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. If the
Prime came to the resort and found him there, Ardian had no doubt hell would be
rained down on his head. Syntian Cree had a reputation for being a badass of
the highest order. His incarceration in the Abyss—having been sent there by the
very woman he loved—had turned him into a monster of legend among the
Mealladhs. The demon had developed a perpetual hardon for things that pissed
him off.
So
engrossed in his own misery, he didn’t hear his lady come into the room until
she spoke.
“Did
I tell you I saw a coven mate of mine at the spa this morning?” Margeaux asked
as she came into the sitting room.
He
lifted his head. “What?”
A
part of him stirred at seeing her wrapped in a semi-wet towel as she blotted at
her wet hair with another towel. With her head tilted to one side, she was
absolutely adorable—like an inquisitive kitten. His body hardened as he swept
his gaze down her shapely bare legs. Her bare feet never failed to arouse him,
and he had to force himself to look away from the bright red toenail polish she
wore.
“Her
name is Annaliese,” she said. “We took our tenth degree adept training
together.”
“That’s
nice,” he mumbled.
“She
teaches at a private school for girls on Amhantar and will be here her entire
summer vacation.”
“Good
for her,” he said although he couldn’t have cared less.
“I
hope she finds someone to hang with,” she said as she rubbed her hair dry with
the towel.“
"Someone of the male persuasion.”
The
towel clung to her ripe curves in such an enticing way all thoughts save one
evaporated from his mind. He straightened and leaned back on the sofa.
“Come
here, milady,” he said in a deep, husky tone that made her arch a brow.
She
gave him a coy look.
“And
if I don’t?” she asked.
He
knew his slow smile did delicious things to her lower body—she’d told him as
much—so he bestowed his slowest, most promising one upon her.
“I’ll
come get you,” he stated. He patted his knee twice. “Now come here.”
Her
answering smile took his breath away as she dropped the towel in her hand and
came over to crawl into his lap. Her weight was so minimal he barely felt it
settle on his legs but his cock felt her thigh pressing against it so that his
entire body became aware of her. He wrapped his arms around her and she laid
her head on his shoulder.
“Feeling
better?” he asked. He loved the gardenia smell of the body wash that clung to
her flawless skin, and the dampness of her curls tickling the side of his neck
sent spirals of desire racing through his bloodstream. He could just make out
the swell of her lovely breasts over the edge of the towel in which she had
wrapped herself.
“You
don’t believe what the Gravelord said about that card, do you?” she asked. Her
fingers were toying with the button on his shirt.
“Of
course, not,” he said.
That
wasn’t true but he wanted to alleviate her worries, not underscore them.
“What
if he does come?” she asked.
“He
won’t,” he said, tightening his arms around her protectively. “The Prime has
more important matters at hand than visiting a resort. If Syntian Cree were to
ever take a holiday, the Megaverse might well implode.”
“Still…”
she said.
He
crooked a finger under her chin to lift her face so he could look into her
beautiful eyes. He searched those gentle orbs, hurt that unease was registering
there.
“Stop
worrying,” he said then bent his head to kiss the tip of her nose.
“I
can’t lose you, Ardy,” she said. The worry that put a quiver in her voice
angered him.
“You
aren’t going to, dearling,” he stated. “So let’s get your mind off doing so.”
He
slid his hand from her chin to the top of the towel where it was tucked tightly
against her chest and pulled it from its nesting place. The towel parted to
reveal the soft flesh and full bosom that never failed to inspire him.
“What
do we have here?” he asked as he ran his palm inside the fold to cover one
breast.
“Has
something caught your eye, milord?” she countered.
“Aye,”
he replied. “Something that looks very tasty.”
He
moved the arm behind her back to lean her gently over it so he could lower his
mouth to the taunting nipple of the breast around which his palm was molded.
The moment he drew the nubbin between his lips, his lady sighed and closed her
eyes—her body going limp in his hold. She threaded her fingers through his hair
to hold him to her.
Swirling
his tongue over the peak, he could feel the nipple swelling, hardening beneath
his touch. He lightly clamped the straining tip between his teeth and a shudder
rippled down Margeaux’s body. When it did, he released his grip on her breast
to glide his hand down her ribcage then lower to the spiky curls at the
juncture of her thighs.
“Ardian,”
she whispered, her head falling back in surrender.
Very
slowly, he rubbed her mound with his palm. Let his fingertips slide fleetingly
over her clit with every circuit until she was writhing in his lap—her sweet
rump grinding against his groin. Her thighs fell apart. A low moan came from
deep within her throat.
He
smiled, for he knew all the right places to touch her. How those places should
be touched, when and with the correct amount of pressure and time spent
stroking them. With infinite care, he spread his index and middle finger to
spike them into the valleys on both sides of labia. With even more care, he
dragged them up again but this time spreading her nether lips farther apart.
Down again and when he drew his fingers up once more, he allowed her to feel
the light scrape of his short fingernails on her flesh.
“Ardy!”
she called out with a hiss.
She
liked that. How well he knew she liked that.
Lifting
his middle finger, he replaced it with his ring finger—holding his middle one
away from her as he began the slow descent down the valleys again. When he
pulled his hand up, he pressed the elevated digit into the sweet channel where
his cock was aching to be.
She
wiggled against that gentle invasion until he sank his finger inside her.
Another low, satisfied moan left her lips and he began a slow press and
withdraw, press and withdraw that soon had her wetting his flesh with each
insertion.
“That
feel good?” he asked.
“Aye,”
she said with a groan. “But I know something that would feel even better."
