Page 30

Tasted of Honey

“A deal?” Charlie c hoked out.

Rafferty’s heart pounded hard in his chest.“You did what?”

She straightened, looking her friend directly in the eye, holding his shoulders. “And it’s one I think you should consider making as well. He has agreed to go to therapy.”

Immediately, Charlie’s head shook. “No, no. I can’t. I can’t forgive him and just carry on like nothing happened. I can’t even look at h im again.”

“I’m not saying you have to,” Helena said. And Cindy chorused, “She’s not say ing that.”

Cindy came up on his side, joining her hand with Helena’s. “I see it all the time. I have a colleague who’s a family therapist. They said that often people will go to see them not just to save their relationships—though it’s what she hopes for—but sometimes it’s also so that they can do the work to p art well.”

“I know you, Charlie. You don’t want things to end like this right?” Helena asked, her voice heavy and hypnotic. She was doing it again.

“Helena! Stop it!” Rafferty hissed, but she only glanced at him before Char lie spoke.

His voice came out slow and thick as molasses. “Yes, you’re right. This isn’t what I want. Even if we don’t end up t ogether…”

Cindy pinched her eyebrows together in worry, but Helena only nodded. “Yes, exactly. You’re going to rest here tonight; I’ve got my guest bedroom and everything. I can also make up t he couch—”

“No, that’s fine,” Cindy said. “We’ve shared a bed before on more than enough ro ad trips.”

“It’s a queen. We’ll be fine,” Charlie agreed. Then he looked up at Rafferty. For a second, Rafferty thought their eyes met, but then he realized he was looking at the area around his eye. Where his husband had hit him. “I’m so sorry he did tha t to you.”

“You are not responsible for what he does,” Rafferty countered. He just meant it factually, but Charlie looked like he was about to burst into m ore tears.

“You are too kind.”

Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat, then bent to pick up his little dog, who had come over to set a paw against his leg. “I didn’t even know he knew how to throw a punch,” he repeated.

“Oh, honey,” Cindy said, rubbing his back. “Everyone can throw a punch but you.”

Making a choking sound, Charlie let out a broken laugh, much to Rafferty’s surprise.

Then they all laughed. It was infectious so much so that even Rafferty, who found no real humor in the situation, couldn’t fight back a grin with some small chuckles. It tickled all the way into his belly, and somehow everything was lighter and easier when it died down. When is the last time I laughed like this? Some distant part of him knew he must have, for he recognized it for wh at it was.

As it died away, Charlie’s shoulders dropped as if the laughter had relieved his great burden. “You are right, Helena. You hav e a deal.”

A shiver ran down Helena, and she closed her eyes as sh e felt it.

Rafferty’s throat tightened. He had let his guard down, and she had done it. She had bound her friend to a deal. J ust like…

But why did he care? These weren’t his friends, they were hers. He had chosen to accept her and guard her sec rets, so…

I’m not responsible for what she does, a rebellious thought echoed ba ck at him.

“You okay?” Cindy asked her.

Immediately, Helena’s eyes snapped open. “I am so sorry. This has been… well it has been a day. So much has happened that I would love to tell you about, but we need to go to bed soo n, and I—”

“Oh God, yes. Go ahead. Go to bed. I didn’t even realize what time it was,” Charlie said, flipping into a mode that seemed closer to his nature. “We can take care of ourselves, don’t wait on us. We can make our own food and everything, just go to bed. Go.” Cindy nodded agreement as he shooed them out of th e kitchen.

Rafferty went willingly. This whole situation made him incredibly uncomfortable as he beat it all the way back to Helena’ s bedroom.

As soon as he passed though the entryway, he whirled ba ck to her.

“How could you—” was all he got out as the door shut behind her, and she att acked him.

The force of her grab shoved him back several steps. He kept stumbling until his back slammed against the wall with a definit ive thump.

“What—”

Then her lips were on his. They devoured him. Heat knifed through him and went straight to his groin. A moan rumbled from his throat. Gasping, the kiss broke, and she was at the buttons of his shirt. He was still wearing his coat, and the buttons gave way quickly enough so she could slide the whole thing off his shoulders.

Another protest was choked out as her lips went for his throat. Her tongue and teeth nipped and sucked, setting his nerves on fire to shoot down his spine. Her hands washed over his skin, feeling every inch of his ribs and the muscles of his chest down to his stomach. They then teased just above the waistband of his pants, and he ached for her to go further. She then abandoned his neck to stick her tongue fully into his ear. Another cry squeaked out that he barely strangled back. Her friends would hear, and he couldn’t… why coul dn’t he…?

As delicious sensations erupted from her ministrations, his knees went water-weak, bringing him down and even more accessible to her power.

Then, all at once, she stepped back, her warmth leaving him cold. To prevent himself from falling over, he braced his hands against the wall , panting.

To his shock, she was naked. She hadn’t stripped her clothes off, he would have noticed that at least, but she stood before him as she truly was. Her wings framed her on either side of her form, her skin glittering white gold with dusky golden edges. The peaks of her breasts captivated his gaze entirely, the cream and golden edging making him think them twice-baked meringues. His appetite to devour them ached to his core.

Helena laughed, the haloed horns on her head sweeping her rose-gold hair from her face. She set her fists on her bare hips, smirking and elegant where he and his disheveled clothing we re a mess.

With twinkling eyes, she then pointed to the ground before her. “Kneel, mortal,” she said, teasing music in her voice.

He was headed there anyway, so he let go of all resistance and dropped to the ground before her. It was then he realized her legs were slightly parted, and he was captivated by the rose-gold hair of her sex. A longing to bury his face there filled him. A small voice in his head told him she was doing this, playing his emotions like a fiddle, but nothing else within him cared. She was hungry; she had to be from all the power she expended that day, and he was her meal.

The same fingers that commanded him came closer to slip through his dark hair. A shiver of ecstasy at the touch washed through him, and his mouth opened in another uninhib ited moan.

“It’s alright. I won’t let them hear us. Sing out for me,” she whispered, taking another step closer as her other hand cupped the other side. His head swirled with sensation and he didn’t care. Then she gripped the back of his skull—a sharp pain of pulled hair, sweet and primal, as she drew his mouth down toward her waiting sex. And he opened it eagerly, parting her lips with h is tongue.

A moan escaped his throat as he tasted it. He expected the less than pleasant taste of woman, not his favorite, but he had performed before when ordered. But Helena had changed herself somehow. She tasted of honey. Not metaphorical honey, but actual sweetness between the folds of her flower. The bee metaphor someone had told him centuries ago danced through his mind as he licked and probed again, arching the tip of his tongue down the smooth avenue that led to her bud, tapping it before leaping free. Now, it was her turn to shudder as he washed her nerves with pleasure. He then lost himself to the rhythm of his work, kneading and working her. She cried out beautifully, unabashedly, from his worship, her hands gripping his shoulders as he grasped her round buttocks in each hand, cupping her body open and t oward him.

The moans and shudders announced that she was close, and he wanted her to gush into his mouth, more of the sweet ethereal honey, but then she stopped. Ripping herself away, she seized him and threw him to the bed with unearthly strength.

She was on him then, like a wild animal, tearing at the buttons and zipper of his jeans, yanking them off with his underwear so that his erection sprang free. He had never been so engorged before, standing at ready, aching attention. She didn’t make him wait long as she mount ed on top.

He about died as the head of his cock slipped into her tight folds, but then she paused. He wanted to push himself all the way to the hilt, but she pulled him out and waited. Looking up at her glowing face in the dark, he wondered briefly what was wrong, but her wicked smile sharpened as she once more let his head pass her portal and n o further.

She was te asing him.

Over and again, she slipped the head in, taking immense pleasure, her breath and moans saying so, but denying him the relief he l onged for.

“Helena, dammit,” he muttered as she did it again. He seized her hips, a wild thought tearing through his mind that he would force her the rest of the way down, but he stopped himself when she resisted.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she chided, her eyes glowing mirthfully in the dark. Then she leaned a little closer, whispering, “Beg me.”

“Please,” he twisted out. Rafferty hated begging, but she had all the power. She feasted on him even now. He could feel it, and he was helpless to stop her. Helpless to say no.

“Please?” she continued, dangling her bait, her hot lips barel y kissing.

“Please,” he growled out now. “Please fuck me.”

Her smile sharpened a split second, then she dropped hard on him, his erection finally doing what he longed so hard for, capturing him i nside her.

The force of it lifted him off the bed, her interior muscles tightening around his shaft. She didn’t pull him out to start a rhythm, instead, her vaginal walls began to pulse. Fully inserted, she squeezed him, watching with detached eyes as his breathing came in gasps with e ach pulse.

“Let me hear you!” she ordered, as her hips final ly rocked.

He cried “Ah,” with the next breath, then repeatedly in higher and higher in pitches as she at last shifted to riding him fully. Her pace was perfect; she grasped his hands in hers. Eventually, one of her hands slipped away to play in time with her clit, her peaking breasts arching out as she leaned fur ther back.

He gave her everything he had as he neared higher and higher toward the peak. He would explode inside her if she didn’t… if sh e didn’t…

His balls tightened and he came, hard. He bellowed like an animal as he felt himself shoot into her. His life energy drained into her being, through their connection, and she glowed like sparkling starlight.

His succubus.

His angel.