Goddess

Goddess


The phone rang at quarter to four in the morning.

Groaning softly, she fumbled with her light blue satin quilt, tossing it absently to the side as she slipped her legs over the edge of the bed. Blindly, she reached out for her phone, pushing aside her alarm clock and nearly knocking over a glass full of water before she found the offending object. Rubbing her eyes, she turned it on and mumbled a greeting into it.

“Chayce can I come over?”

She recognized the deep male voice immediately and her senses regenerated as worry overtook her. She glanced at the clock, saw the bright red numbers staring back at her, proclaiming it to still be the small hours of the morning, and her worry intensified.

“Of course you can Raiden. Are you alright?”

“Just need to see you Chayce.”

“I’ll go down and unlock the door for you,” she said, already standing up and walking down the stairway to the front door.

“Thanks,” he mumbled absently before hanging up. Chayce clicked the off button, unlocked the door and sat on the overly large green couch near the entrance. She flipped the light switch on an oriental designed lamp, comforted by the instant pale yellow glow the muted light emitted. It caressed everything in its path, gently illuminating, soft, placid. Reaching out, she set the phone on the small table in front of the couch, focusing on it; the black plastic cold, yet graceful, glad it was available to distract her from her growing apprehension over Raiden.

He entered her house barely five minutes later, surprise evident on his handsome, angled face when he saw her waiting for him. She stood slowly, scanning his face, searching his deep brown eyes. His large hands were deep in fitted jean pockets, a black button-down shirt hugging his magnificently muscular frame. Her breath caught at the mere sight of him, the pure masculine beauty of him, but resumed when she looked at his tightly drawn face, his unreadable brown eyes. He looked haunted almost, and her heart clenched.

“What’s wrong Raiden?” she asked softly. He could only look at her, his gaze tender, loving almost, yet fiercely guarded.

He couldn’t tell her the truth. She’d never understand how she haunted his every thought, his every dream, how she brought to life every primitive emotion hidden deep within his body. She was his madness, his sanity, and for that alone he cherished her. She was his ethereal goddess, his fiery siren. She was beauty personified, erotic and sensual, the epitome of feminine magnificence. She was his alone.

But he couldn’t tell her. His mouth wouldn’t contort to form any words. He wanted to tell her how he had dreamt of her; naked, wet, so full of himself she was mindless with pleasure, before waking with the overpowering urge to see her, to talk to her. He wanted to tell her dreams weren’t good enough anymore. He needed to feel her, taste her, touch her. Her wanted her, only her, wanted to tell her but couldn’t.

He lied to her instead.

“I’m fine Chayce,” he said, his deep voice low, tender, his sensual mouth pulling up at the corners with a superhuman effort.

He was lying to her but she said nothing. Instead, she nodded her head toward the couch, motioning for him to join her. He moved past her, settling himself upon a velvet cushion next to her, every muscle in his body, every nerve attuned to her presence. He sighed heavily, reaching up to run long, strong fingers through his own short dark brown hair. His breath caught as she raised her arm, caressing his fingers with her own, gently untangling his hand so it could fall unceremoniously to his lap. She smoothed through the dark strands, comforting, arousing. He closed his eyes momentarily as she continued her innocent seduction, her sweet breath tickling his neck, his body on fire from her being so close. She smelled of fruit, apples maybe, and he wanted to discover if she tasted as good as she smelled. Her brown hair, fused with strands of precious gold, fell down her back in rippling silken waves, and he wanted to bury his hands in it, wanted to see if it was as luxurious as it looked.

I had you in my dreams. There you were mine. I’d do anything to feel like that again, to have you as my own.

He placed a large hand on the swell of her rounded hip, feeling her warm skin beneath his palm. Her breath quickened near his ear as his thumb moved in a small circle, stroking, caressing. Her deep red cotton nightgown was short, resting in the middle of her thighs, and the hem of it caught his attention. He moved his hand to the edge, rubbing it between his fingertips, abandoning it for the softer skin underneath. He was mystified at the beauty before him, waiting for her to jump off the couch at any second, desperate to move away from him. But she remained seated next to him, moved closer to him if it were possible. He wondered how far she would let him go.

And then he made the fatal mistake of meeting her eyes. They were soft, the pristine blue of them that he loved so much dark, deep, swirling with intense desire. Looking into them, he realized she wouldn’t stop him. She’d let him take her, let him make her his own.

She’d let him claim her heart, her very soul.

He leaned towards her, brushing the corner of her mouth before settling on the ripe fullness of her lips. They parted beneath his own, letting him delve into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, exploring, discovering. He paused momentarily, giving her time to back away from him if she wanted, but instead she dragged his mouth back to hers, adding to his pleasure when she tugged at his shirt buttons, tugging and pulling, eager to reach the hot male flesh beneath the garment. He let her pull the shirt off as soon as the last button had been opened, let her smooth her hands over chest, his shoulders, his arms, let her feel every sinewy muscle, every ridge on his beautiful body. She was fascinated by him, by the raw power his body contained, the sheer masculinity.

He pushed her down into the cushions, his heavy body over hers, covering her, a sensual delight, as his kiss turned almost violent, tasting, devouring, taking, giving, mindless and only registering the thought that he had to have her, had to taste her, had to fill her completely and make her his own. He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her head gently back, exposing her neck as he left the delicious contours of her mouth to nibble her jaw line, to kiss her collarbone. She moaned softly as his long fingers slid beneath the thin straps of her nightgown, tugging the front of the dress slowly down, freeing her breasts from their confinement. They were wonderfully full, swollen, the nipples puckered into hard pebbles. His mouth, hot, wet, fastened over one, his tongue swirling around the hardened flesh, his teeth lightly tugging at it, before sucking it deeply into his mouth. Her back arched, her fingers locking in his hair as he very nearly devoured her. She was everything he’d dreamed she would be, delicious, hot, and tasted so damn good he knew he’d never get enough of her.

His hand trailed down the gentle curve of her stomach, gently pushing the nightgown over the swell of her hips, down her long, shapely legs, until she was free of it and naked before him. His mouth followed his hands path, licking her stomach, kissing it, even as his hand traveled up the soft flesh of her thigh until he found her. She was every bit as wet as he had fantasized, and hot as he slipped a finger into her, gently stroking her into madness. Her legs shifted, falling apart so he could touch her more deeply. He added another long finger, stroking, plunging, simulating his intentions with her body. She rocked against his hand, coaxing his fingers deeper into her body, her fingers entangled in his hair, holding his mouth to her stomach. Even as she clutched him, her only anchor to reality as he drove her into insanity, he moved, slowly licking and kissing his way down her abdomen, his mouth seeking the bounty his fingers had found. He removed his fingers from her, using the arm he now had free to wrap around one smooth, slender leg so the back of her knee rested on his broad shoulder, using the leverage he now had to hold her spread before him. He used one large hand to hold her open to him as he lowered his head, his tongue seeking and immediately finding the very core of her. Her back arched, her nails dug into the skin of his forearm, as she brokenly gasped, deeply moaned, encouraging him. He devoured her with a new sense of urgency, anxious to see her in her most vulnerable state, shuddering and shaking beneath him, clutching him, crying out his name in abandon. Her scent filled his senses, her taste his mouth as he explored her, flicking his tongue against the hard bud above her opening, feeling her stomach, her entire body tighten involuntarily. She was close to complete satisfaction, her every nerve and muscle taut, her breathing broken as she held his head to her with one hand, clutching the arm of the couch behind her head with the other.

He flicked at her once, twice before sucking the nub into his mouth, sliding two fingers into her, teasing her, stretching her. He waited until she was comfortable, then plunged in a third, preparing her for him.

Her orgasm hit her violently as she moaned, tossing her head from side to side as her hips thrashed upwards, her smooth walls convulsing, pulling at his fingers still fully imbedded within her. He slid himself up her body, quickly unfastening the buttons of his jeans and freeing his hardened length. He stood from the couch, sliding the form fitting jeans that lay already low on his lean hips and black boxers down his legs so he could kick them off absently.

He was over her again, repositioning himself between her open legs, anchoring himself by grasping her full hips as he plunged deeply within her. Her tight walls contracted around him, still quivering with the intensity of her release, and she could feel him, long and thick and so wondrously deep inside her it stole her very breath. He moved then, surging into her so forcefully, her back arched completely off the couch. Again and again, he rammed himself into her, growling deep in his throat at the feel of her around him. She was wet and so tight, he almost came at the mere thought of it. But he wanted more, he wanted to feel her walls close around him as she came, squeezing him sweetly as he came himself and released himself into her. He wanted to watch her face as her body tightened, and she screamed his name. Her hips rose to meet his own as he pumped her full of himself, her leg rising so she could rest her knee against his hip, allowing him to dive even further into her depths.

He kissed her, seeking her lips as he ravished her body, tasting her even as his body claimed hers. She clutched at him, any part of him she could as she fought to push herself closer to him. She wanted to be a part of him, wanted him to be a part of her. She was mad for him, mad for his body, for the intense pleasure that body could bring her as his beautifully fulfilling male organ filled her body, drawing back and pushing forward, bringing her closer to oblivion with every movement.

He pulled out of her completely, turning her over so she was on her knees, and thrust himself inside her to the hilt. She felt every hard inch of him imbedded within her soft flesh, and cried out when he held her hip with one hand, wrapping one lower arm around the front of her legs to anchor her against his fast-growing violent invasions, pumping himself inside her with almost violent surges of his body. Her breasts swung sweetly as he plundered her body, catching his attention, and he slid his hand to one, catching a hard nipple between his fingers. He teased it, rolling it with his fingers, pulling at it, kneading the silken heavy mound with his palm, hungry for the taste of her. He pulled her up so her back was to his chest, moving his hands down to her thighs, spreading them so he could ram himself deeper into her. His hand swiftly slid up her body, lifting a heavy breast, lowering his head so he could suck the nipple deep into his mouth. He let his fingers fall, skimming her stomach, burying them between her legs, rubbing her, stroking her, suddenly needing to feel her body pressed tightly against his own.

He slid out, gritting his teeth at the loss of her body, so he could turn her over, pushing her into the cushions once more, entering her slowly, fully, completely. She wrapped her long legs around his hips, pulling him into her. He controlled his motions, slowing them, measuring them. She silently urged him faster, grasping his muscled arms, the lean sides of his stomach, but he restrained himself. Lying there, her body wrapped around him, beneath him, completely in his power, her body hot and her tight sheath wet, was more overpowering than he could ever have imagined. She was his now, his alone, and the masculine supremacy that swelled within him shocked him with its intensity. She began to quiver, her body tightening and clenching, pulling at him, building as he made deep, slow love to her. He moved leisurely, his earlier violent possession gone as he gazed into her blue eyes, holding them, bending his head so he could kiss her. He explored her mouth thoroughly, totally, completely, his tongue stroking hers as slow as his body was moving within her. She moved with him, clutching at his arms, tangling her fingers with his, as she gasped and moaned beneath him.

Her orgasm built slowly, gradually consuming her until it racked her body, enveloping her in pleasure. Her back arched, her body crushing against his hard, solid chest, moaning his name in mindless abandonment. He watched the pleasure wash over her gorgeous face, still moving slowly, before burying his hand in her hair, tugging it back so he could kiss her neck as he moved faster, bringing on his own violent release. He jerked into her, wild, uncontrolled movements as he drove his being, his very soul into her waiting body. His low growl of wholly masculine satisfaction vibrated throughout her, and she smiled softly, dreamily, as she lightly kissed his shoulder, his jaw, before reaching up with her mouth for his. His kiss was leisurely, soothing, and so wonderful she cried out softly when his lips left hers. He placed his head on the gentle curve of her collarbone, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and she could feel him still within her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled softly. She smiled, her eyes closed, her fingers brushing through the thick strands of his dark brown hair. His deep sigh caressed her skin and she shivered slightly.

“I’m not going to give you up Chayce,” he said almost violently, savagely.

Her passion darkened blue eyes opened, questioning, curious.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Us,” he said, slipping out of her and sitting up on the couch. “ I’m not giving you up. You’re mine now.”

Just as you always were.

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised as she lifted herself up on her elbows.

“ There was never a doubt in my mind that I wasn’t Raiden,” she whispered softly, as though she had read his mind. He looked at her sharply, his soulful brown eyes unreadable and dark.

“Saying you love me?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m saying I love you,” she confirmed.

“Damnit woman, you’ve been driving me insane, you know that? Haunting my dreams, controlling my thoughts,” he moved over her, covering her body once more, his face level with hers. She grinned up at him.

“Must have been my many charms I’ll wager.”

“Actually your charms aren’t that impressive,” he teased lightly, smirking at her. She gasped playfully, stretching out an arm in an attempt to slap him on his gorgeous head. He caught her hand mid-air, lacing his fingers with hers, holding her hand tightly against his.

“I love you Chayce,” he growled right before he kissed her, stealing all coherent thought from her mind.

She was his madness, his sanity.

She was his alone.