Winded (4 page)

She could smell his signature on the gust, filling her head
with images of lust and carnality. A mixture of damp, green, growing things.
Shelled nuts left to cure in the hot sun. Dark, rich soil, fertile for
planting. Freshly cut trees, sticky with sap. Sweet herbs. The cold signature
of spring water bubbling up from a granite well. The acrid bite of ozone before
a lightning strike. The far, shady hearts of unexplored forests smothered in
moss. This perfumatory intoxicated her.

But it was his kiss that held her spellbound.

Where before he’d taken her breath, now he breathed for her.
He filled her with his essence. Imbued her with his power, making her a part of
his storm, not just its target. His breath reached down into her and awakened
every erogenous zone she possessed—and some she’d been completely oblivious to
before this.

Her neck fell back in a swoon that melted her whole body to
pliancy. Boreas’ lips moved to scorch a trail down her jaw, before raining a
volley of kisses on the curvature of her throat. He was pressed to her, full
length, leaving no doubt in her mind just how determined he was to go beyond
kisses and breezes.

The heat of his skin seared her nipples until they became
hard. Until they ached. Her breasts felt heavy, swollen. Just as he was
swollen. His cock was prodding the vee of her thighs in a thick, solid
extension of his desire. The muscles on his chest were dense and strong, the
bulge of his biceps roped and rigidly flexed. Though her feet dangled several
inches off the ground, he showed no strain in holding her, keeping her tightly
imprisoned in the cage of his arms while his whirlwind lashed her, whipped her,
pleasured her.

Her toes curled. His Wind massaged her breasts, buttocks and
legs. It draped her shoulders with layers of tickling, teasing coolness.

Vetiver was thrown into the vortex of such exquisite
sensuality that she almost came when he pressed his hot lips to her madly
beating pulse. He drew her hypersensitive skin between his teeth, stinging her.
He sucked hard, marking her. This delicious pain hit a reflex inside her body,
squeezing her womb. The breeze lifted her legs and Vetiver eagerly wrapped them
around him, hooking her ankles in the small dip at the base of his very long
spine, just above his clenched buttocks.

He put his hand under her bottom and pulled her closer.

It was all she could do to not to gyrate against him. Her
swollen vulva rested on the ridge of his desire. His length pressed against the
seam of her labia and she was instantly damp behind the trivial scrap of her
satin panties. The pressure was enough to make her crave more. She tightened
her legs. The flexing of her thighs felt exquisite, so she tightened them
further.

His first kiss had been a warning. This kiss was a promise
of forever. And ever.

She never stood a chance.

He ground his hips into hers, rooting deeper between her
legs. She might as well have been naked. He almost entered her through their
clothes. His lean hips undulated in circles, dancing them together in swirls
upon the floor with his agile footwork. She couldn’t help it, she moved with
him, rolling her hips.

All the while, the gale ravaged across the island, through
her home, around her limbs and hair.

Then Vetiver was on the bed again, this time flat on her
back, her buttocks on the edge of the mattress with her legs still locked
around him. He leaned over her, a dark cloud of hair, a volcanic glow of amber
eyes, and brushed the curls from her face with his fingertips. “How do you like
my kisses now, woman?”

She gaped, dumbstruck. Was he just doing this to prove a
point?

But it seemed he required no words from her, just the
response of her body to his. He slowly tugged the tiny straps of her dress down
her shoulders and pushed the material over her breasts, down to her waist,
freeing her to the touch of his hands. He cupped both breasts and used his
thumbs and forefingers to twist and tug her nipples until they were long and
stiffly pouting.

He licked his lips and bent his sleek head to her, drawing
one nipple tightly between his lips while he tended the other with his free
hand. His hair was a cool wash over her sweat-dampened skin and she gloried in
it.

Boreas ground into her, as insatiable as his Winds,
untamable as his storm, it didn’t matter that she was still half dressed. He
pumped his hips between the wide spread of her legs and rubbed himself against
her until she was moaning in short, gasping notes of desperate pleasure.

His hot lips moved to her other breast, the wet nipple left
behind suddenly cold and bereft without his tongue playing over it. But now he
drew a nipple so deeply into his mouth it seemed he would swallow her breast
whole, like a plum too ripe and juicy to bite, but too sweet to waste.

Her heart dropped at his feet, only too eager to let him
have his way. She’d never felt so naked. So raw. And he wasn’t even inside her
yet.

But he
was
inside her. In her head. Her spirit.
Inside her cunt and womb. He flew into her like his breeze, blowing away all
caution. All reservation and doubt. Baring her. Readying her for total
domination.

Leaving her no choice. It was succumb, surrender, submit.
Slave to his pleasure. Her pleasure. Servant to his desire. Her desire. Vessel
for his need. Their need. She would be his or she would cease to exist, it was
that simple. Without this, without them, half of her was dead already.

She was soaking wet through her panties, dampening the front
of his trousers. So close to release. To jumping off a cliff she’d never
guessed could exist, into an abyss that would bind them in shadow forever…

There was a ringing in her ears.

“Wait,” she gasped.

Boreas pumped his hips against her and she saw stars dancing
at the edges of her vision. His mouth sucked her nipple noisily.

There would be no going back after this. She felt it in the
domineering air he wore like a crown. He was relentlessly staking his claim on
her…

“No!” she yelled over the roar of the tempest and the roar
of the blood in her veins. “I am Vetiver Device, of no small power, and I will
not be owned by you or any man!” She shoved at him, feeling the armlet burn low
on her biceps, branding her skin as it awoke with her sudden rage.

He ignored her, sucking her breast deep into his mouth, his
fingers bruising her hips where he held her still to accept his movements
between her legs.

She put her fingers in his hair, felt a moment’s
hesitation—his hair was so silky it made her ache, made her want to give him
all of her, tore away her will—but she shoved the weakness aside with a curse.
“I belong to myself. You will not dominate me!”

The fire in the armlet zinged down her arm, lighting up her
hand like a white dwarf star.

Boreas roared and jumped back, out of her light. The side of
his head where her projective hand had touched was red and angry. Vetiver sat
up and straightened her clothing with her right hand. It was awkward work, but
she was too intent on this new and amazing talent she’d unearthed inside her,
too curious about why her light should hurt an Elemental like Boreas and
grateful that she had some weapon against him.

Boreas panted. His loose trousers did nothing to hide his
desire. His cock was alarmingly large, clearly swollen, tenting the damp
material at his crotch—damp from her body’s eager response to him. “I would
have you as my equal,” he growled. “It is your own stubborn nature that makes
you feel threatened by what brews between us. There is no time to woo you
gently. And you are not one for soft-spoken promises and light caresses. You
are a woman of prodigious passions. I felt your response as keenly as my own.”

There was a ringing in her ears. “We have other things to
think about…” She knew the excuse was lame before she started talking. She
wanted him so badly it scared her.

That was the real problem. It scared her.

The ringing in her ears wasn’t abating. If anything, it
seemed louder now that her head was clearing of the crimson haze of pleasure,
frustration and anger.

“Do not run from this, Vetiver. You called me, remember?”

“It wasn’t a cosmic booty call,” she snapped, though the
faint image of a baby flickered in her head. “I need your help.”

“And you will have it.” His voice turned cryptic. “And me as
well.”

Ball came bounding into the room, growling low in his
throat. Vetiver spared him a glance and experienced a frantic urgency that had
nothing to do with the shifting of her world in Boreas’ embrace.

“Those are weather sirens.” She turned eyes wide with dazed
fright to Boreas’ stoic features, still ruddy from passion. The ringing in her
ears was the wail of the early warning system of an incoming gale. Already she
knew Boreas enough that she could read the answer to her unspoken question in
his eyes. But he spoke the words anyway.

“My hurricane waits on the ocean, not far off the coast.”

A hurricane? Vetiver shot to her feet, reeling. “Well stop
it! We have to evacuate the island first.” Then it dawned on her. This was how
Boreas would help her. With the island mostly vacant, no one would interfere
with the Warding ritual.

“All humans cower before a storm. They are already on the
move,” he confirmed. “The bridge to the mainland will see them all to safety if
they are not too stupid to linger.”

Ball huffed and paced. Something else nagged at Vetiver,
deep within the corners of her mind. Something wasn’t right. And she wasn’t
seeing it yet. But it was there, lurking. And it was bothering Ball, too, she
could see.

“The equinox isn’t for two more days,” she reasoned. “You
can’t maintain a storm for that long without garnering too much unwanted
attention to this place. I can’t afford that—this business needs to be as secret
as possible.”

Boreas tilted his head, lending him a predatory air. His
eyes blazed. “The cyclone doesn’t need two days to serve its purpose.”

Ball growled again.

Vetiver swallowed down a sneaking suspicion that made her
skin crawl. “But then everyone will come back before I’ve had time to perform
the ritual, making the evacuation pointless. Unless…” She faltered, eyeing him.
“What are you planning, Boreas? What are you going to do with my island?”

His indigo lashes blinked slowly. “You called me, witch. I
came.” He smiled, a sly twist of his full lips that made her nipples stiffen.
“This island is no longer yours to guard. Are you not grateful so weighty a
burden is lifted?”

She gasped. “No!” Ball nudged her side and she shoved his
head away impatiently. “My family has kept watch over this island for over
three hundred years. This is our land—”

“The land belongs to itself. As you belong to yourself—don’t
deny it, you just said the words. The land will not be owned by any mortal. It
warrants that much respect from all, but most especially from a magical being
like yourself. It knows the role it plays—a doorway to evil—and it understands
that it can no longer be sealed shut. It is over.”

Before she knew what she’d intended, Vetiver threw out a
surge of light from her hand. But Boreas anticipated her lash of anger and had
crossed to a far corner of the bedroom in the blink of an eye. “Damn you!” she
cried, her light dying. “You can’t do this! You cannot take what’s mine.”

“It is done.” He enunciated each word with a step in her
direction, until they stood toe to toe. “You are the last of your line. I heard
you speak the words. You cannot be the sole custodian of so great a
responsibility. Anything could happen, an accident, an illness, and you would
be gone. Your protection would be gone. You are too fragile to risk. The land
knows this and so should you.”

“Then help me,” she pleaded. “Stay with me and help me set
the wards. Don’t destroy it because I had a moment of weakness. Give me a
chance.”

“What do you ward against? Do you even know?” His teeth were
bared. “What fears do you have that would spur so vibrant a woman into wasting
her life protecting these sheep who disdain her efforts?”

It seemed he knew her every secret. She was ashamed now that
in her moment of despair, she’d called on him. She was alarmed at what she
feared he meant to do now that he’d been called forth.

“What do you ward against,” he repeated, towering over her
like a threat.

“You know,” she said faintly.

“I know, yes. I know well what you fear. But do you
understand what you face? Tell me what you protect these people from, Vetiver
Device? What frightens you so much that you broke a binding spell to summon
me?”

Her hands were fists at her sides and she brought them up
now to pound on his wide chest. “The Unnamed! This island is a doorway to their
world and if I don’t set the wards, bind the gates shut, then they’ll spill out
and consume everyone.”

“You have known this all your life but you wait this long to
call for aid?” He scoffed.

“I wasn’t even sure help would come if I asked,” she
admitted desperately. “And until recently, I’ve had help. But my mother and
grandmother are dead. I’m not strong enough alone.”

His features hardened. “Now I am here. And my hurricane will
see an end to any threat.”

“Boreas, if I can set the spells, the island will be safe
again.” She thumped his chest once more.

“Until the next celestial event approaches and demands new
spells from you,” he pointed out ruthlessly. “You cannot do this alone forever.
The power needed to see it through must be immense. You would burn out
quickly.”

“That’s why I asked for help!” she yelled. “Just lend me
your strength.”

“It will not be enough. My magic is not like yours.” He
caught her fists. “I am a Shikar. Killing Daemons is my purpose. Protecting
humanity is the responsibility of all my people, one we do not take lightly.
You are but a lone witch and a human. So much has been asked of your bloodline
already. Too much is asked of you now. Your job here is done.”