Chapter Nine

 

 

 

After Paran left, she worked all afternoon, watching the doorway for any signs of Justin or, truth be told, of Paschel. Paran had assured her his brother would not act quickly, that he was a planner, who would watch and wait for just the right minute. Still, she knew Paran was on the offensive, so better to be that way herself.

The citrine lay nestled between her breasts, warm and cozy. She stroked it absent-mindedly. She hated that Paschel was here, threatening Paran. She hated it even worse that the reason he’d found her husband was because of her. Their passion had been hard enough to make Paran break his concentration. Still, she wouldn’t give up what had grown between them for anything in the world.

“Neither would I.” He nibbled on her ear and she pushed at him.

She fought back a giggle. “You can’t just pop in like that.”

“Why not? Did you have to push away another lover?”

“Two of them.” She shrugged. “They barely made it out the door before you got here.”

“Oh my, she laughs and tells jokes. Who would have known it?”

She thought about being mad, and then she burst into laughter, throwing her arms around his neck. “Jerk.”

“You wound me,” he said in fake pain. “And here I’ve got dinner reservations at a marvelous restaurant. I’ve ordered roses and champagne and oysters. Yummy.”

“Really? He’s romantic. Who would have known it?”

Paran’s eyes narrowed, but the amusement written on his face canceled out any supposed anger. He stepped back and looked her up and down. Within seconds the slacks and shirt she’d been wearing turned into a sleek black dress, cut low to reveal a great deal of her breasts. He shook his head and the style changed, the neckline coming up enough to still show a little skin, but not be too revealing. The skirt hit just above her knees.

She kicked her leg behind her and looked at her shoes. “I’ll never be able to walk in these heels.”

“Sure you will. One small step at a time.”

* * * *

“I’ve never heard of this place.” Moreen stepped out of the taxi, amazed, but happy, that Paran had not simply zapped them here.

They had made out in the back seat during the ride, kissing as if they were teenagers after the prom, his lips roaming over her neck and face. She knew the driver had watched, laughing softly at times, but she didn’t care.

This was absolutely fantastic. She glanced up at the sign that read Portellos.

“Greek food, very yummy. Run by a Djinni. He uses it to bring fated lovers together.”

“Very noble.”

“Very. He’s a wonderful man, but he’s in Greece right now, so you won’t meet him.” He took a rose from the doorman and handed it to Moreen. “For you.”

Her hand shook as she held the bud to her nose. “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

“Then I will shower you with them every morning for a month.” He kissed her gently and she pushed into him, their lips dancing around each other.

“Let’s skip dinner.”

“But I’m starved. Besides, I went to a great deal of trouble for this meal. You’re going to love it.”

They went inside, Moreen stopped to stare at the opulence. Cozy booths and tables were interspersed throughout the softly lit room. Red satin curtains lined the walls, and as she looked harder she could see they could be pulled around tables, giving the people dining there privacy.

“Very romantic.”

“Yes, and it’s also a nice place to talk quietly with no chance of being overheard by the other diners. Portello saw to it. Every table is spelled for privacy.”

She followed him as he moved through the room. The place seemed mostly empty. As they neared the corner, her eyes widened.

Paran stepped in front of the table and bowed. “Mr. and Mrs. McGee, I’m so glad you accepted my invitation. Thank you.”

Her father stood and shook Paran’s hand as Moreen stared at her parents, unshed tears burning her eyes. Her mother looked at her uncertainly, then stood and held out her arms. Moreen didn’t hesitate. She sprinted the few short steps to her then gathered her close, the threatening tears falling now.

“I’ve missed you,” she said in her mother’s ear. “And I’m so sorry for the pain I caused you.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry. Too many years gone by for wicked words that held no meaning. Your husband is a good man.”

Moreen turned to him. “Yes, he is.” Then she hugged her father, and wondered why she’d ever let anger worm its way into her heart so deeply that she would ignore the only two people who had ever cared for her. Until now, that is.

* * * *

His hand was on her knee as she listened to her mother talk about various cousins and what they were up to. He wasn’t trying to arouse her, she knew that. His touch let her know he was there, and always would be, no matter what.

The fact that he’d secretly called her parents, introduced himself as her husband, and invited them to dinner made her heart ache with joy. It showed the love he felt for her, showed that he wanted her to be happy. If possible, she loved him more now than she had when they bonded. She’d never believed in fated love before, had always thought it was a myth, something inserted into fairy tales. She was thrilled to find it was real, that it did exist.

Moreen took in every word that her mother said. The start of the dinner had been awkward, the three of them nervous and unsure of what to say. But as the minutes wore on, they became more relaxed and the words tumbled out. They worked their way through calamari, lamb chops and delicious vegetables.

The waiter had just delivered a huge plate of baklava and Moreen stared at it, her eyes widening. “It looks delicious, but I don’t think I can stuff in another bite.”

Her mother took a piece. “Sure you can, just one. Or maybe two.” They giggled together as they put the tasty treats on their plates.

“What is it you do for a living?”

Moreen wiped her mouth to hide a smile at her father’s question for Paran. Even after all these bad years he was still being protective, wanting to know Paran was good enough for her.

“I’m a businessman, an investor, really. I own interests in several clubs and restaurants across the city.” Paran squeezed her knee gently and warmth flooded her body.

“And you’re from the city?” Her mother added her own question.

“No, actually my family is from Europe, originally. But I’ve lived here for many years now.”

The urge to giggle came again. What would her parents think when they heard their new son-in-law had lived in New York for more than two hundred years?

“Where in Europe?”

“Well, I was born in Lisbon, but my parents have both passed on now. I have a lot of brothers and sisters, but we don’t keep in touch.”

The mention of his family made her heart lurch.

Paran! What if Paschel tries to do something to my parents?

Already taken care of, my love. Don’t worry.

Thank you.

He leaned over and kissed her gently, and when the kiss broke, she saw a look of approval on her father’s face. He looked so much older, but yet he looked the same as he had when he’d taught her to ride a bike all those years ago.

“There’s a party at the center for us,” she said softly. “Next Friday. Will you come?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” her mother said. “We just wish we’d been there for the wedding.”

“It was a very informal ceremony,” Paran said. “Just the two of us. But we’re thinking about having a larger ceremony for everyone to watch, sort of a reaffirmation of vows.”

Her mother, who had been relaxed, sat up straight. “You can use our house. We have a large backyard, plenty of room.”

“Your mother would love to plan it,” her father said softy. “Say yes, Moreen.”

“Yes. Definitely.”

They talked and laughed a little longer, and when they rose to leave, Moreen thought her heart would break. She could spend all night with them, discussing things she’d missed in her family, and just sitting there with them close to her.

When they were gone, she turned to Paran. “I can’t believe you did that without telling me. Thank you.”

“Anything to keep you happy, my love. And now, I have something else I think you’ll enjoy.”

He squeezed her hands and the room shimmered.

Moreen shivered as cool winds flowed in the darkness that surrounded her. She looked down. She was naked. She looked further down and realized she was standing in something squishy. It took her a few moments, but her eyes widened in delight.

Sand.

“We’re at the beach,” she said in wonder. She wiggled her toes again, then threw her head back and laughed.

“Yes, on a small island in the Caribbean.”

“A deserted island?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Imagine that.”

She ran into the moonlit ocean, letting the waves lap around her calves, and then up to her thighs. Paran came up behind her and stroked her hips, his erection strong against her backside.

Moreen thrust back at him, loving the feel of his hardness in between her cheeks as the water caressed them. “Fuck me.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?” He reached around and cupped her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she groaned. When she did, he pinched harder.

“Yes.”

“You like that?”

“Oh yes,” she groaned out as he pinched her nipples again.

“You know what I’d like, besides pounding myself into you?”

“What?”

.“Your breasts. I want to fuck them, to slide between them, to watch your face as I ride you.”

“Do it,” she said, her breaths coming in short gasps, her body humming with need. Do it now.”

He lowered them to their knees, then all the way down until the water covered their bodies. They rolled to the shallow portion of the water and his hands kneaded her breasts, sending pleasure surging through her.

Once they washed up on the shore, he was on top of her within seconds, his knees on either side of her rib cage. Waves broke around them and she sank deeper into the cool sand.

Pushing her breasts together, his cock slipped into the cavern she created. He threw his head back and groaned, his long hair tickling her body. “Spread your legs.”

Moreen didn’t question him, just did as he asked. He started to thrust hard, his cock sliding between her orbs and bringing her more pleasure than she thought this position could.

“Pinch your nipples.” He focused his dark gaze on her and she shivered in delight. “Now.”

The ache between her legs intensified as she did as he asked, and then she gasped as fingers touched her clit, stroking it, pinching it hard. She rolled her head from side to side.

“How… what …?” It took her a few minutes to realize it was his hair, spelled into fingers, that provided her with the exquisite pleasure. She pinched her nipples harder as he pumped her, his hips moving faster and faster.

Paran’s “fingers” had found their spot, stroking her clit. She came within seconds, her hips lifting up.

“Yes! Oh, my Moreen, all mine. Come hard.”

It flowed through her and the waves seemed to pick up, crashing around them. Seconds later, his warm seed soaked her neck. She bent her tongue down to lap at it, marveling at his guttural groan of pleasure as he encouraged her to lick it all up.

“That’s it. Take it. Oh yes.”

The fingers continued to work her as she licked, and when more pleasure rocked her body, he leaned down and kissed her, pushing her down into the sand, his tongue sliding back into her throat. She choked as he grasped her hair and kissed her even harder, then roughly pulled her head back before forcefully flipping her over.

He slapped her ass. “Up.”

Wanton desire surged through her as she drew to her knees. He crouched behind her and entered her, his still rigid cock feeling as if it had developed fingers of its own, grabbing at her inner walls.

“Yes!” Her body shook with his pounding, both from his cock and the hand that came down on her ass over and over again. The dominance of it, the sweet pleasure of his rough treatment was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It frightened her just a little.

And she loved it.

Loved every thrust, every pinch, every slap of his body against hers.

His piercing slammed into her G-spot and she came, clawing at the sand, her walls grasping his cock tightly. She heard him speaking once again in the language she couldn’t understand as he erupted inside her, his warmth flooding her body.

They rolled onto their sides, his pulsing cock still buried deep within her core. He moved one of her legs over his thigh, then pushed further inside her.

She turned her head to look at him, saw the questioning look, knew he was worried that he’d been too rough. A small nip at his chin made him smile in relief, and she returned the grin. For all the ability he had to read her mind, her thoughts, her emotions, he still worried about hurting her. That thought made her love for him grow.

“How is it that you’re still hard?”

“Magic.”

She laughed, then settled into his arms as the water lapped around them. “Can we stay here forever?”

“No, but we can come back and visit as much as you’d like.”

A sigh of contentment escaped her lips. She looked out over the vast ocean, and then she frowned. “Will I become Djinn?”

“Yes. The transformation has already started, you just don’t know it. Soon you’ll be able to perform small spells and transport yourself and others. I will teach you.”

“But I won’t be a demon?” She couldn’t hide the fear in her voice.

“No.”

“What about our children?”

He pulled her closer, their bodies seeming to melt together. “They’ll be half demon, but we’ll raise them to fight for the good. Don’t worry, my love.”

“As long as I’m in your arms, I don’t think I can worry about anything.”

“That’s excellent news.”