Winded (8 page)

He roared with triumph as she screamed her joy to the
heavens around them.

It was a close thing, but as the last pulsations of her body
squeezed his length hungrily, greedily, he pulled free and spurted his seed on
the sweet curve of her belly. His cream drizzled over her pale skin, like icing
on a delicious cake.

Afraid that it might shock her, he only just barely
refrained from licking it off her sweet skin.

His witch was panting.

He
was panting. For the first time ever, he knew what
it was to be winded.

He kissed her red lips, licked them, played with them as her
glazed eyes slowly regained their focus and clarity.

He tucked her head beneath his chin and held her as the
world flooded below.

* * * * *

A distant crash drew her from the edge of rosy pleasure.
With a gasp, Vetiver leaned over the edge of her cloud and saw the outer swell
of the hurricane as it swallowed up the border of her island.

“Ball is still down there!” she exclaimed.

“He will be fine.” Boreas soothed her, rubbing his palms
over her rear, which was conveniently tilted up while she leaned over. “Think
you he cannot travel through the portal to my world to escape the gale? Think
you he has not already done so?”

Vetiver still fretted.

“Shh,” he comforted, kneeling behind her to lick her pink
slit with his long, agile tongue. He grasped her buttock in his hands and
squeezed, sipping her labia between his lips, flicking his tongue in and out of
her sticky sheath.

Vetiver moaned, forgetting everything but the raw lust that
gripped her tightly. She pressed her tits into the soft dampness of the cloud
and lifted her hips even higher to give him a better taste. He rewarded her
with long, languorous kisses, carnal kisses, devious strokes with his tongue
from her clit to her anus.

When she was sobbing with need he rose up behind her, a god
of the sky, and impaled her with his long, thick cock. The friction burned. His
girth stretched her thin. His length penetrated so deeply she gave a little
scream that was half fear, half exhilaration.

Where before he had fucked her then passionately claimed
her, he now made sweet, slow love to her.

His mighty phallus slid in long, sure strokes. Whenever he
withdrew, it was only until the very tip of him was left inside her, and he
waited until her body squeezed him greedily, begging for his thrust, before
sliding back in to the hilt.

It was gentle. It was wet and sticky and messy and it was
lovely.

But Vetiver wanted more. She begged for more.

And Boreas chuckled, moving in that slow, tormenting rhythm,
in no hurry to end this sweet interlude as his storm slammed into the earth
below.

His hands roved up and down her back, over the curve of her
ass, the sides of her thighs. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and oh so
carefully, masterfully, turned her head to meet his lips again and again. The
pressure of him moving deeper inside her was maddening. His restraint made her
crazed. She tried to wriggle her hips, determined to force him to pick up the
pace and ride her harder.

He slapped her ass, leaving a delicious sting where his palm
met flesh, and she cried out, her body clamping down on his. Her entire body
shuddered. And when she found release, it was the sweetest experience of her
lifetime.

She pulsed around him, feeling him still inside her while
she found her pleasure. The muscles of her womb thirsted for his cum, but he
held it from her, for her safety. For now. When she moved, pumping her hips
like a mindless animal, he kept her safe from harm and let her work herself
higher, let her pussy slide around him like a hungry mouth until she was sated,
falling limp into the cushion of their cloud.

Boreas slid out of her, straddled her rear and wrapped his
fingers around his shaft. He pumped his hips over the dip of her spine, and she
glanced with dazed eyes over her shoulder to witness his carnal pleasure wash
over her in a pearly spray as hot as lava. He groaned, his eyes shut tight, his
jaw clenched, his lips parted around gritted teeth. His creamy ejaculation
glistened on her skin, pale and beautiful in the silvery light.

She arched her back like a cat when he rubbed his cream into
her skin. It tingled where it touched her, reminding her in no uncertain terms
how it would someday feel when he spent himself inside her.

Vetiver wanted to drink his cum. There would come a day, and
that day would be soon—she vowed it silently—that she would suck him dry with
her thirsty lips. And then she would ride him until his sac was tight and
drained of all he had to give.

Below, the eye of the hurricane moved over Merrymint.

“Come, dearest,” Boreas said, still catching his breath with
some effort. Eyes still alight with the ecstasy of his release. “The doorway
lies open. We will pass through now, before the hurricane and the ocean closes
it against us.”

He lifted her in his arms and flew them down to earth. The
eerie silence over the land held long enough for Boreas to carry her through
the opening in the ground beneath the stone that had seen his entry into her
world. As the darkness closed over her, the roar of the cyclone resumed,
consuming the island and the threat it presented to all mankind.

“Goodbye,” Vetiver whispered, crying already as Boreas
swiftly took them deeper into the caverns that led to his home.

She didn’t stop crying until he had laid her in his warm
bed—a real bed, not clouds as she’d half expected, but an incredibly plush
mattress and thickly piled blankets—and Ball shoved his nose in her face,
licking away her tears. He was back in the familiar doggie shape she knew best.
He harrumphed and sat on the bed, nearly unseating her.

And that quickly, her sorrow abated.

Nothing mattered so long as she had her family with her.

Boreas and Ball, they were her family. Her world. They loved
her, witch that she was. And she loved them, her Shikar warrior and her
shape-shifting, immortal guard dog.

The tears dried, forgotten, and Ball smiled at her as if to
say,
I told you everything would be all right
.

And everything
was
all right. It was better than all
right.

Everything was perfect.

Epilogue

Vetiver handed the case to Boreas, watching him closely to
gauge his reaction. He opened it and whispered the words she had taught him
before lifting the gun. “It feels…” He shuddered and dropped it as the gun
suffused with a vibrant emerald glow in response to the magical words that had
awakened it.

“Sorry.” Vetiver grabbed the gun just before it struck the
ground. Her agile reflexes still astonished her. She whispered the words to dim
it. “I did warn you.”

“It still surprised me,” he admitted, eyes wide on the
weapon that, by her command, no longer glowed. “It was warm, almost hot, but
there was no pain.”

“It took some time, but I made certain it was Shikar safe. Now
if any of the others who use these weapons run out of ammo, they can rely on
its light to protect them. It will burn any Daemon it touches. The gun itself
can be used to cut like one of your Foils when it’s lit up against an enemy.”

Vetiver was now a Shikar, transformed by Boreas’ semen mere
days after they had arrived here. Ushered through the death of her human form
with the aid of Emily—another former human turned Shikar, a Traveler who had
shown her the way back from oblivion, to awaken in her husband’s loving arms.
Reborn, Vetiver Device was still a child of nature, able to walk in full
sunlight—so few other Shikars could claim the same ability—and she used that to
fuel her other natural abilities that had only grown stronger with her
transformation.

Imbuing weapons with the power to burn Daemons to ashes had
quickly become a passion of hers. After coming here with Boreas, Vetiver had
become determined to prove her worth to his people. She’d cast wards on every
border of their underground city. Attended births, acting as midwife in most
cases, crafting protection charms to hang over the newborns’ cribs, whispering
spells over their innocent heads to help them sleep and dream sweetly.

In secret, she’d spent almost all her free time in the
armory, casting spells on every weapon to protect its wielder from harm. This
gun was the culmination of many experiments to create the perfect magical
weapon. It was, essentially, portable sunlight.

So much had changed. And yet so much still remained the
same. Blessedly so. She still guarded against the Unnamed. But now she
protected more than an island. She helped protect the world. Vetiver’s personal
Grimoire bulged with newfound knowledge, recipes and incantations to aid her
and her fellow warriors in battle. She’d already rewritten most of the spell
books lost to her house fire. She had ensured the legacy of the Device
bloodline would live on. Here. In the world of the Shikar.

And now it was time to prepare the way for a new witch to
come.

The firstborn of her union with this amazing warrior
slumbered now deep in her womb. Soon Vetiver would ripen with the growth of her
daughter. And as expected, Ball, in his way, had already begun to transfer his
allegiance to Vetiver’s child, a warrior-witch he would one day guide and
protect as he had guarded so many others over the centuries. Vetiver didn’t
mind this defection. It was supposed to be this way, she knew.

Boreas and her Familiar were fast friends. And the Shikar
people hadn’t batted an eye to the presence of a dog that was not a dog, but so
much more than words could explain. The Shikar children especially adored Ball,
and he them, letting them pet him, coo at him and call him “Baw” in their
innocent tongues. He roamed the city at his leisure, though he never strayed far
from Vetiver’s side. While she carried his future mistress, he was still her
best friend. Still her treasured companion. He would never really leave her,
even when Vetiver’s daughter became woman enough for him to serve. Ball was as
constant as the turning of the world.

And Boreas, too, was never far from her—he was, in a word,
insatiable.

But then, so was she.

They were equal in their endless passion for one another.

“Can you do this with other weapons?” Boreas asked, clearly
eager to see more like the gun.

Vetiver smiled, pleased with herself now that she saw how
his eyes were alight with this new invention. “Oh yeah.”

Boreas grinned and drew her into his arms. This time the gun
hit the floor, but Vetiver was too distracted to be relieved that it wasn’t
loaded. Her mate’s lips commanded her full attention now. His hands wove a
spell over her body that no magic could ever rival.

This time when he took her breath, she let him. It was not a
theft, but a loan. And when he gave his breath in return, she filled her lungs
with it, drawing him inside her, fueling her cells with his essence.

When he filled her with his flesh, it was as if they were
discovering sex for the first time, every time. He filled her now, stretching
her pussy tight around the urgency of his cock.

He took her standing. He took her lying down beneath him on
the floor of their sitting room. He fucked her from behind, bending her over
the foot of their bed. He made love to her with Vetiver on top, guiding her
hips in a gentle, slow rhythm.

When she came, he came too, filling her with the
scalding-hot wash of his seed. His cum. So silky and creamy. They climaxed too
many times to count, until his cum dripped down her thighs like honey.

Their sighs traveled on the air, a slight breeze playing through
the rooms of their underground home. Miles above, the world moved on, growing
smaller every moment. But Vetiver was happy. Her world had grown, expanded to
enormous wonders that surprised her every day.

She was a witch. But she was not a lone witch anymore.
Boreas was with her. Ball never far. Their child slumbered inside her, weaving
spells with her tiny, barely formed fingertips along the walls of Vetiver’s
womb. And though the world was fraught with danger, Vetiver Device was where
she belonged. Safe and loved by the lord of wind and storm, who had swept into
her life on a hurricane wind.

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