Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1] (7 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

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he could hear her wayward thoughts, he caressed her hands

again and increased the speed of the bike, shooting past the

entrance to the complex.

"Where are we going?" she yelled at him.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"You'll see," he yelled back, his voice caught by the wind

to rush past her ear.

He took a road that led out into the countryside and

opened the throttle so the powerful cycle sped along with

blurring speed. The road was paved but there were cracks in

it that caused Bailey's rear end to bounce on the seat. Before

long, she was praying for the ride to end instead of

continuing. Her hair was whipping about her face and was

bound to be so tangled she'd never get it unsnarled.

Van was following a little stream that led to the farmland

he had purchased years before. It was here he came when

the moon turned full and it was into the forest beyond where

he roamed in his wolf form. The land was rich and lush and

offered a sanctuary for him beyond the concrete jungle in

which he was forced to live and work. One day, he hoped to

retire to the farm. Nearing the unpaved road that led out to

his land, he slowed the machine down. A wide iron gate

blocked off entry to the road but he flicked a control on the

handlebar of his bike and the gate slowly swung open so that

by the time he turned onto the graveled roadway, he easily

maneuvered the bike through the opening then flicked the

control to shut it behind him.

It was to a small pond he took her and when he braked the

motorcycle on a little rise that overlooked the tranquil water,

he heard Bailey draw in a quick breath.

"Do you own this?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, shutting off the engine. He sat there with

his legs spread wide on the ground, his hands on the

handlebars. "What do you think?"

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Her arms were still around his waist. "It is beautiful."

"Hop off," he told her.

Swinging her leg over the back of the motorcycle, she did

as he ordered, smoothing down the hem of her short gown.

She walked closer to the edge of the rise and looked over. It

was a gentle slope that led from the rise to the pond and she

knew it wouldn't take much to venture down to the inviting

water.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her,

laying his chin on her shoulder. "I've always thought this

would be the perfect place for a house," he said.

"It would," she agreed. The vista spread out below her was

filled with mature trees and bushes, thick green grass

studded with red clover. The air smelled of honeysuckle and

banana vine.

"Would you like to live here?" he asked softly.

She thought of the cramped apartment, the restrictions on

not being able to paint the bland beige walls, the restrictions

on not changing the drapes or the carpeting or not hanging

art or decorations on the walls.

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"Then this is where we'll build our home," he said and

turned her in his arms. He put his crooked index finger under

her chin. "A home you can have exactly as you wish it."

She closed her eyes as he lowered his lips to hers. His kiss

was soft, fleeting, and when she opened her eyes, he was

looking down at her with a tender, gentle look that made her

insides quiver.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"I want to taste you once more before I'm forced to spend

the next three days howling at the moon and missing you,"

he said and with his arm around her shoulder, led her down

the gentle slope toward the pond.

"Do you really howl at the moon?" she asked.

"Not usually, but I've a feeling I'll be doing it this time," he

answered.

"You won't do something bad will you?" she asked.

"I might be tempted to lick myself but that's about as bad

as I'll get," he said and laughed at the heated blush that

spread over her face.

"You are terrible," she chastised him.

"But I'm all yours, little coroner," he said with a wink.

Bailey discovered she had lost all fear of this man. He had

drawn her to his side and held her there with such strength,

such authority that she felt safe and protected. The soft mat

of grass to which he took her was inviting and it smelled

heavenly as he knelt down with her.

"I realized something today," he said as he slipped is

hands around her waist. "You have come to mean a great

deal to me." He pulled her gown over her head. "I would have

fought an entire regiment to keep you."

"I realized something, too," she said shyly.

"That being?" he prompted.

"I was proud that you won."

He stilled with her gown crushed in his hand. "Truly?"

"Truly," she replied and with trembling fingers, she put her

hands to his uniform jacket and began unbuttoning the

double-breasted gray wool garment. Cut short in the waist

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

with no external pockets, the jacket fit him as though he'd

been poured into it. She peeled back the front panel and

unbuttoned the inner, pushing it down over his shoulders to

reveal his brawny chest. She sucked in her breath.

"Are you afraid of me, little one?" he asked, his forehead

crinkling with concern.

She shook her head and reached for his belt. "Not any

more," she replied. She unbuckled his belt and then

unhooked the clasp at his fly. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to

his. "Are you afraid of me?"

He smiled with his eyes bright and it transformed his face

from being merely handsome to being breathtakingly

gorgeous. "By the gods, I'm terrified of you, Sweeting," he

answered.

She tugged his zipper down. "You should be," she said and

reached inside to wrap her fingers around his cock. "I'm the

mere human who will tame your beastly heart."

"Think you can tame me, do you?" he queried.

She smiled at him. "I can try," she answered and slid the

tip of her finger over the slit of his cock.

Van shivered at her touch and moved his legs further apart

as he knelt there. She was on her knees before him and as

she fondled him, he lowered his head to steal a kiss from her

tempting mouth. His arms went around her to bring her

against him and he fell backwards, drawing her with him so

she landed on top of him, her hand still clutching his shaft.

"You are entirely too impatient," she said. She pushed

herself up and turned so she could pull his boots off. That

done, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

uniform pants and drew them over his hips and down his legs,

hissing when the garment resisted.

"Now who's being impatient?" he quipped.

She knelt there between his legs and looked at him. From

wide, muscled chest to long, powerful legs, he was a perfect

specimen and he was hers.

"All yours," he said as though he'd read her mind again.

Bending over, she took him into her mouth and smiled

when he drew in a ragged, loud gasp. She felt his hands in

her hair as she suckled him and watched his legs tense as he

lifted his hips up to her in offering. Swirling her tongue

around the head of his shaft, she could taste the saltiness of

him and wondered if she tasted the same to him.

"No, wench," he said. "You taste like honey."

Laving him from tip to base, lapping around his thick

circumference, delving her tongue into the oozing slit, she

drew his scent and taste deep into her soul. His cock was

hard as steel but his flesh was warm and soft, like silk as she

licked him.

"Bailey," he groaned and she looked up to see his eyes

closed, his lips open, and his tongue flicking across his upper

lip. When she took him deep into the moist cavern of her

mouth, she heard him draw in a shuddery breath and her

name on his tongue was like a prayer.

She suckled him, reveling in his body quivering now and

again as she gently cupped his balls, ran the tip of her finger

experimentally along the tight little pucker of his ass and

along the rigid length of him.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"Bailey..." he said and she heard the warning note in his

voice.

Clad only in her bra and panties, Bailey straightened up

and reached behind her to free her breasts. The moment they

were unbound, her lover put his palms to them to heft their

weight and run this thumb over her nipples. When she would

have moved so she could take off her panties, he saved her

the trouble by snaring the thin material with the fingers of his

left hand and ripping them from her.

"Van!" she complained, the sound of the material tearing

sending a tingle down her spine.

"I'll buy you a thousand pairs of those skimpy things," he

promised then took her hips in his hands and lifted her,

settling her down upon his rigid cock and sighing as she

gripped him with her warm, moist channel.

"So impatient," she said.

She rode him gently—rocking back and forth—until she

saw the fine beading of sweat on his brow and upper lip. "Am

I hurting you?" she asked.

"You are killing me here, Bailey," he said through clenched

teeth. "If you don't come for me, baby, I'm going to leave

you behind in the dust!"

She cocked her head to one side. "Why didn't you say this

was a race?" she asked. She clamped her knees to his sides

and increased her rhythm but it wasn't enough for him. He

dug his fingers into her hips.

"Let me show you how it's done," he growled.

Easily lifting and lowering her upon his cock, he settled

into a tempo that soon had her panting with pleasure.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"Come for me, Bailey. Come for your Modartha!" he

demanded.

Bailey cried out and when he felt her delicious sheath

beginning to pulse, he drove into her harder, faster,

increasing the depth of his thrusts until she was bursting all

around him like a dandelion drifting on the wind.

"Van!" she shouted and her vagina oozed warm juices

down his straining shaft. Her entire body quivered with the

force of her climax.

He pulled her down hard on him one last time then spilled

himself into her, straining so she could feel every last spurt,

every last convulsion of his rod as it claimed her.

Bailey groaned as the final quiver of his cock stilled inside

her and she stretched out atop him with her head on his

thundering chest.

"On second thought I think it's more than just wanting

you," she heard him say as he cradled her against him. "By

the gods, I think it's far more than that."

"I know," she said.

The sun was slipping low on the horizon and night would

be coming soon and with it the full moon that would signal a

great change in the wondrous man lying beneath her.

Reluctantly, she got to her feet and held out a hand to help

her lover stand. When he was standing before her, she laid

her palm against his cheek.

"It is growing late, my Modartha," she said softly.

He eyed the setting sun and sighed. "I wish we had more

time."

"We will," she said.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

He reached out to gently cup her cheek. "Have you tamed

me, wench?" he asked softly.

"Have you conquered me, Modartha?" she queried.

He drew her to him for one last kiss. His lips were gentle

upon hers, tender, and when he moved back and smiled at

her. He shook his head. "No, I didn't conquer you. That

wasn't my intention."

"And what exactly was your intention?" she asked.

"To win your heart."

"I believe you might be well on your way to doing just

that," she told him.

He searched her eyes. "Could you give your heart to me,

Bailey MacKenna?"

"Could you give me yours, Crevan Byrne?"

He nodded slowly. "Aye, wench. I believe I already have."

The End

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