Goddess of Love (Goddess Summoning #5)(71)

Victor's sensuous storytelling had excited her as no other foreplay had ever done. Leading him into her room, she'd already been wet and hot and ready. After bringing him to orgasm with her mouth, her desire for him throbbed through her body. She smiled up at him, enjoying every moment of his dazed, drained expression.

"My turn," she said, purposefully dropping her voice to a sexy tease. She began to slowly strip off her clothes, loving the hot intensity with which he watched her every move. She realized, of course, that he couldn't get hard again so soon, but she couldn't wait to feel his naked skin against her...his strong arms around her...his mouth on hers...

Naked, she lay back on the bed. Inhibitions totally gone, she opened her legs to him. And then watched in amazement as his c**k began to swell.

"Let me inside you. I have to have you. I have to make you mine," he said huskily as he got on the bed and knelt between her open legs.

Disbelieving, she reached forward. Her hand closed around his stiff shaft, proving that she wasn't imagining his second erection. She stroked him, feeling herself liquefy with pleasure. He was simply amazing!

"You've already made me yours," she said, meeting his gaze, trusting that he saw their future in her eyes as she had seen it in his.

"Yes." He gasped. "We belong to each other - for eternity. I love you, Dorreth Pea Chamberlain. I want to spend my eternity with you."

Pea felt his words wash against her skin as if they carried a palpable shiver of sensation with them, even though her mind said that it was impossible for words to carry physical sensation. She knew it wasn't rational, but it was as if by speaking words of love to her, he had somehow actually bound them together for eternity.

"Yes," she murmured. "I belong to you - always."

She guided him to her and groaned as he tunneled slowly within her wetness. Then all gentleness and hesitation fled before the heat and the passion that filled them, and Victor began pumping, thrusting, pounding into her. She met him thrust for thrust, lifting her hips from the bed and angling her pelvis so that she fully accepted each of his thrusts. He rode her in the ancient dance of lust until she could feel her body gathering for orgasm. She lifted her legs, moaning. With a sound that was very much like a growl, he took her leg and raised it high, anchoring it over his muscular shoulder that was slick with sweat. The new position opened her more fully to him, allowing him to plunge deeper into her, bringing her to the edge of her release. She wrapped her arms around him and exploded, gasping his name. Then he followed her over that sweet edge and groaned his pleasure. She held his shuddering body close....

...And something over his shoulder caught her eyes. She blinked, trying to focus and bring her breathing under control, and clearly saw that the flames of the little scented candles she'd lit earlier were shooting in a crackling whoosh all the way to her ceiling!

She cried out, but Victor was in the midst of his own ecstasy, and he must have mistaken her shouts for pleasure. She was tensing to push him off her so she could run for the fire extinguisher, but she realized that though the candle's flames were high and unnaturally bright, they didn't burn the room. They blazed with Victor's orgasm like benign flamethrowers absent of heat and made only of color. Pea continued to stare at the flames as Victor pumped his seed into her. And as his orgasm faded, so did the flames of the candles, until finally, when he collapsed against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, their small, flickering fires had returned to normal. If she had had her eyes closed, she would have missed it. But her eyes hadn't been closed.

She hadn't missed it.

The truth hit her hard. It all fit. His sudden appearance coinciding with Venus's visit. His powerful aura. His odd, archaic speech patterns that could have been evidence of a good education and maybe a lot of foreign travel, but was really something else entirely. And, most telling, his knowledge of ancient mythology and storytelling.

Victor was nuzzling her neck and lightly kissing her while he whispered something sweet she could almost hear against her skin.

"Who are you?"

Her voice was flat and matter-of-fact. But postcoital Victor (or whatever the hell his real name was) didn't seem to notice. He kept nuzzling her and murmured, "The man who loves you, little one."

"Bullshit."

That got through to him. He pulled back and saw her rigid body language. Frowning with obvious worry, he rolled slowly off her. Pea ignored the sexy, wet feeling of his body sliding from hers.

"Pea?"

"You're not mortal." It took her saying it aloud, and the shocked look in his eyes - not shocked as in What the f**k? but shocked as in How the f**k did she find out? - for her to know for sure her instinct about him had been right. He wasn't like any other man, because he wasn't literally a man.

"Who are you?" she repeated, crossing her arms over her bare br**sts - not that she wanted to hide from him. She didn't. She was, quite simply, thoroughly pissed at him.

"Why are you asking me that? Why would you believe that I'm not mortal?"

"Okay. Please. While you were coming the flames on the candles were shooting to the ceiling like miniature flamethrowers. That. Is. Not. Normal." She spoke each word separately, enunciating carefully.

Clearly distressed, he sat up. "The candles did that?"

"Oh, and did I mention that they flamed way up the side of my wall to my ceiling, but they didn't burn anything?"