Blade Heart
This smelt bad! Two of them showed bulging muscles stretching their jackets, but Cara had witnessed her warrior in close combat. Given that her safety had become his sole priority, she had the feeling he’d make short work of them. But this was New York City, not the Kingdom of Agravar. As the trio stepped on the sidewalk, she touched Morgan’s elbow.
“Don’t kill them.”
He didn’t react to her words, but the three guys guffawed. A friend on each side of his heavy shape, Baldy revealed a set of crooked teeth while he stared at her.
“Trying to bluff your way out? Well, you’ve got the wrong man. Now shut the fuck up and hand over your money!”
His confident grin winked out of existence when Morgan’s fist crushed his jaw. Even before his body touched the ground, one of his buddies had also collapsed, brought down by a wicked punch in the guts. Curled up in a ball, they both groaned in pain as they struggled to get air into their lungs.
The third mugger wavered when he realised the extent of their mistake. Then a knife appeared in his hand as he seemed to make up his mind. Unfazed, Morgan took a step towards him and growled. Features frozen, sweat coating his forehead, the mugger suddenly turned tail and ran away. A frown creasing his brow, Morgan turned to her.
“It isn’t safe here.”
All right, all right, she would find a better-paying job and move to a nicer area. At least she’d think about it. Abandoning Baldy and his pal on the sidewalk stained with drops of blood, Cara headed towards her building.
Morgan followed her upstairs, his grudging footsteps implying he didn’t like her living in an insecure place. But as soon as the door closed and she led him into the kitchen, he took her in his arms. Gaze riveted to her lips, he cupped her breasts and fondled them with his palms. As pleasure shot through her, she recalled the wizard’s reprimand and took a step back.
“We can’t, Morgan, Caius forbade it. Remember what he said just before Devlyn’s dragon riders attacked us.”
“I know what the old devil said.”
“So? Don’t you think we should heed his warning? I’m pretty sure he didn’t have time to tell us all about the prophecy.”
Morgan tilted his head to regard the front of her jeans with curiosity. Then he moved his hand to fiddle with the zip and button. “Cara…”
“Yes.”
Before she could warn him again about the dangers of defying ancient revelations, he lifted her up to sit her on the edge of the kitchen table. Eyes burning with passion, Morgan drew her hands towards his protruding crotch.
“Fuck the prophecy.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
His eyes sparkled. Her stomach bubbled with excitement. Perched on the table, she unzipped his fly and pushed his pants down. Engorged and hard, his liberated rod formed an angle with his body. She drank in the arousing sight as she grabbed her waistband to wriggle out of her jeans.
He removed her shoes quickly with nervous fingers and tugged at her pants until they came off. But when she reached towards his rigid shaft he stopped her.
“Don’t touch me. I’ve wanted this since we fought at the village.”
Cara grinned as understanding dawned on her. At the same time, the idea of him too aroused to bear caresses had her moist in a second.
“Then look at me.”
Legs free of the jeans, she drew her knees up to put her feet flat on the table. She leant back on her elbows to offer him a clear view of her glistening pussy. Eyes expanding and jaw clenched, he took a step forward to grab the top of her thighs and place the tip of his dick on her wet folds.
“Mighty Gods, help me.”
He shoved his cock inside her. A cry passed her lips as the roughness of his rock-hard shaft sharpened her desire. Insides ablaze, she yearned for him to take her whole, to claim her body with violent passion.
“Bang me hard, fighter.”
He tightened his grip on her thighs and rammed his long member into her. Vibrant pleasure streaked her belly, lanced her heart, dissolved all notion of slow anticipation. As he withdrew to penetrate her even more forcefully, she yelped. Nails raking the table, she spread her legs wider.
His next powerful thrust had her whimpering while his harsh grunt ignited a deeper sensation. As much as he had wanted her for the past hours the tables had been turned, and now she was the one who couldn’t hold in check the overwhelming feeling rising from her core.
“Oh God, oh God, Morgan!”
Eyes clouded with unrestrained rapture, jaw tense, he pulled her to him while he flipped her legs over his shoulders. She gasped as he thumped her buttocks with his hips, as his unflinching cock hit her from inside.
He wheezed through gritted teeth. Seizing her waist to strengthen his grip, he roughly drove his cock into her again.
Caught up in his raving passion, locked to his intense gaze, she couldn’t tell if she wailed or cried from pure delight. She loved the ache in his groans and the throbbing urge of his jolting strikes as the heady sensation born from her loins swelled up to overpower her.
She clenched her hands around the edge of the table. He pounded into her. She quivered from the violence of his thrusts. He plunged his cock deep into her and she bit her lip to bear the ferocity of her impending orgasm. He dug his fingers into her flesh and banged her open cunt with quick, jerky pushes.
She climaxed. Her shout of absolute deliverance joined his raucous cry of pleasure as he let his head drop above her body, his hair spread over her shirt. Her limbs shook and his body quivered as she felt his dick shrivel inside her. Still she couldn’t move her legs, couldn’t quell the wild pulsations of her heart. Panting, he slowly released her waist.
Such bliss wasn’t human. Such intoxicating love must be a rare gift she would cherish for the rest of her days. Listening to his erratic breathing, Cara realised she’d do anything to preserve his world, his people, his life. Prophecy or not, she’d run head-on into danger if it meant saving him.
She winced as her numb legs refused to leave the crook of his neck. Raising his face, he displayed a small grin.
“Let me help you.”
He lifted her thighs with tender fingers before lowering them until her feet touched the floor. Bringing his hands under her shoulders, he then pulled her up against his chest. As he glided his hands into the mass of her hair, she felt his seed trickle down the inside of her thigh.
He looked at her. Mesmerised by the emotion in his eyes, she watched the curve of his sensual lips as he leaned in. Gentle and warm, they had the feel of a spring breeze after a devastating storm. Beyond love, his sweet kiss touched her very soul. And when he drew back, his words branded her heart.
“You are my queen.”
He left her speechless. Although there might have been a million things she wanted to tell him, her blank mind only allowed her to live in the moment. And as much as she’d have liked to hold back time, her cheeks warmed when her stomach rumbled.
Eyebrows raised, he smiled at the unmistakable noise. “I’m hungry too.”
Actually, she was starving. The Four Kingdoms might be a surprising place, but it lacked basic commodities, one of them being good food. While Morgan pulled his pants up, she flew to the bedroom to put on tracksuit bottoms.
Once covered, she found him looking into the refrigerator. She wondered if he was observing the dim light that kept on blinking, the few goods she kept inside or the workings of the appliance.
“That stuff is too old. I’ll cook us something else.”
Of course, she hadn’t gone grocery shopping for days prior to finding herself in another world, but she could always rely on pasta. Lapsing into a familiar routine, Cara retrieved a big pan from the cupboard and found a jar of tomato and mushroom sauce. While the water heated up, she led Morgan into the living room.
“I want to show you something.”
While he sat on the couch, she switched on the television. On a random channel, a middle-aged saleswoman was doing her best to promote blue pills intended to
efface wrinkles. Two outrageously expensive pills a day for a fortnight and voilà, the mirror would reflect the face of a twenty-year-old. Yeah, she wished! His back straight, Morgan watched the screen with a frown.
“Is she talking to me?”
Squatting at his feet Cara shook her head. Given that she had no idea how a TV worked, she went for an unscientific but simple explanation.
“No, this device is called a television. You aren’t actually seeing people behind the screen, but moving and speaking pictures meant to entertain you. And I promise nobody is watching you.”
“Pictures?”
“Yes, like images in a book except that they can move.”
“What is it for?”
“It can be for learning or discovering, but it’s mostly about entertainment. For instance, we watch special images called movies. Although nothing is real and nobody gets hurt, they sometimes tell wonderful stories.”
Cara grabbed the remote control and flicked through channels until he held up his hand. On the screen, Arnold Schwarzenegger was pumping rounds with a heavy, mean-looking machine gun. An intrigued sparkle lit Morgan’s eyes so she set the remote down and straightened up.
“Here. See for yourself.”
As she backed towards the kitchen, Cara smiled at the sight of his eager face and curious gaze riveted to the screen. Being a fierce warrior himself, an aggressive, bloody movie had to draw his interest. While she poured pasta into the boiling water and grabbed a smaller pan for the sauce, she wondered anew what he must think of her world. She’d have to ask him sometime.
Gunshots and shouts of pain reached her ears as she stirred the pasta. Poking her head out of the door, she saw he was engrossed in the film. Apparently this sort of entertainment also worked with people from another world.
Ten minutes later their meal was ready and she topped the pasta with the mushroom sauce. She carried glasses and plates on a large tray that she set down on the coffee table in front of him. He had been focused on her since she’d entered the lounge, and he dropped magazines on the floor to give her more room.
“Thank you, Cara. It smells very good.”
“I’m guessing you’ve never tried this, I hope you’ll like it.”
He took a mouthful and grinned. “What is it?”
“Pasta. Good for the body and the mind.”
He nodded before swallowing another big mouthful of food. As he dipped in again she felt like a medieval woman feeding her warrior back from a war expedition. Then her stomach rumbled anew and she picked up her fork. On TV, the massive Arnold had been cornered into close combat and was now delivering punches to a bunch of bad guys. Morgan turned to her.
“What do you like watching?”
“Well, I enjoy kick-ass movies like this one. It’s relieving after a hard day’s work. But sometimes I need more than action.”
“Like what?”
“Love stories.”
“Show me.”
Cara hesitated, fearful he might call her sissy again. But as she glanced sideways to check if he displayed any signs of teasing, she met his frank gaze. He really wanted to know what she loved most.
“Okay.”
She didn’t own many DVDs apart from a few movies she couldn’t do without. Once she had picked her favourite, she inserted the disc into the player before waving the remote controls at him.
“Remember, you asked for it.”
“Show me.”
While Cara went through chapters to get to one of the best scenes, she told him what he needed to know to understand the situation.
“The story is set in a fantasy world filled with mythical creatures, ancient races, magic and evil. Through war and unimaginable perils, nine companions set off on a quest to find a unique ring and destroy it. There are two men, four hobbits, a dwarf, a wizard and an elf.”
If she had thought to impress Morgan with her wild tale, she had failed. Now that she thought of it, his world bore deep similarities to the background she had just depicted. Features relaxed, he listened to her.
“One of the main characters descends from a long line of kings, but few people remember he’s heir to the throne. Actually he’s turned away from this path a long time ago to become a ranger.”
“Why?”
“I guess because he believes the survival of the race of men is hopeless and there’s nothing he can do to prevent the downfall.”
“Fighting for what’s right is never in vain.”
Of course he’d say that—he was a fierce combatant himself and leader of the resistance. Cara made a quick trip to the kitchen to grab a bag of chocolate chip cookies when she noticed Morgan had already wolfed down his pasta. She sat beside him on the couch and pressed the play button.
The forest is dark at night, but a blue beam of light pierces through thick, overhanging branches. The heir to the throne and the Elvish princess stand face to face in the middle of the bridge. Speaking an ancient language she passes a loving hand over his brow as he is suspended to her words.
Just from watching the cursed lovers, Cara felt a tinge of desire awaken her senses. Eyes on the screen, Morgan bit into a cookie. A grin of satisfaction stretched his mouth—he also appeared to be enjoying the fictional story.
He reaches for the crystal pendant hanging around her neck. Although their love is doomed, she places it in the palm of his hand and folds his fingers over the precious jewel. Alone in a mystical forest, they exchange the most tender of kisses. Whatever their fate, she is his for all eternity.
Cara had watched this emotional scene at least a dozen times, but it always got to her. As they didn’t have the leisure to go through the entire movie, she used the remote controls to switch off the player. Next to her, Morgan drove a hand into the cookie bag.
“What happens to them?”
At least he wasn’t making fun of her tastes. While he chewed on the biscuit with evident pleasure, she pushed aside her empty plate and brushed away unruly strands of hair.
“He’s on his way to fight the worst evil that ever existed. Up to this point there’s a good chance he won’t come back. As much as she wants to become mortal and stay with him, she must follow her people to another realm or she’ll die. Tricky dilemma, isn’t it?”
Fiddling with the remote, Cara went back to the program they had been watching earlier. Apparently Arnold Schwarzenegger wasn’t yet done with ‘shoot first, ask questions later’. A solemn expression on his face, Morgan sighed before taking her hand in his.
“Although they’re very much in love, these two can’t be together. She’s an immortal, he’s human, and there doesn’t appear to be much hope for them. Why do you like watching this story?”
Here was the question she dreaded. Could a man understand the deepest fantasies of a woman? The hidden but real hopes that made their hearts beat faster? Would he get an inkling of what she felt for him?
Slowly removing her hand from his, she stood up to walk to the door. As she stepped into the kitchen, she looked back at him.
“Because it’s a tale of undying love.”
Affected by the unreal images she had seen, Cara went straight to the bathroom. To say the least, her day had been eventful. In spite of an insidious weariness weighing on her limbs, she longed for a relaxing moment without danger or threat of death.
She drew a hot bath. While steaming water filled the tub she undressed, threw the tracksuit bottoms into the laundry basket and tied her hair up. In the mirror above the washbasin, her face looked the same. Maybe a little tired but nonetheless the same. Just like she had never entered another realm of existence. Just like she hadn’t met the love of her life.
Cara stepped into the tub. Hot water enveloped her body as she sighed with contentment. Some people might enjoy freezing waterfalls, but she was all for comfortable baths. Lying down so the water would cover her body up to her cleavage, she enjoyed the invigorating feeling.
She was about to close her eyes when he appeared in the doorway. His gaze
travelled along her bare body and he began taking his clothes off. A jab of lust hit her when he disclosed his erection to her hungry eyes. Naked, beautiful and horny, her warrior spoke to her soul.
“My love for you is undying.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Heart knocking to the point of pain, Cara sat up to give him some room as the depth of his love threatened to bring back emotional tears. She watched him settle down between her legs—the water must have been too hot for him because he flinched a little, but no complaint passed his lips. Knees folded, he stretched his arms over the rim.
As usual, she had forgotten to sprinkle bath salts. Through the transparent, undulating liquid his shaft took on a thickness that dried her mouth and electrified her belly. Their thighs came into contact. All considerations of fictional devotion departed and in their wake real desire whipped her.
“Now that I’ve cooked for you, would you like me to wash you?”
The civil undertones of her voice didn’t fool him. The raw lust brightening his eyes told her he knew she wasn’t playing the perfect hostess but wished for much more—unless inviting a guest to get off counted as politeness.
“Only if I wash you first.”
Tremulous movements shook her pelvis. Indecent images leaping to mind, Cara had to take a long breath before she remembered the bar of soap sat next to her. As she dipped the creamy tablet into the hot water, he took it from her hands.
“Lie back and close your eyes.”
Darkness enfolded her. The water lapped her skin as he sat straighter to get closer. Hands softened by the silky soap, he caressed the length of her arms. The fragile skin of her breasts and collarbone goosebumped. When he reached her shoulders to trace their roundness with light fingers, her nipples hardened. He restrained his motions.
“Let me know if you don’t like my washing.”
A single sentence and he had set the tone of their foreplay. He was the leader of the resistance all right, yet he was also a cunning devil who enjoyed making her tremble with anticipated passion.