Gargoyle's Christmas

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Gargoyle’s Christmas ISBN # 1-4199-0481-7 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Gargoyle’s Christmas Copyright© 2005 Katherine Kingston Edited by Briana St. James. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: December 2005

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This book has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

GARGOYLE’S CHRISTMAS

Katherine Kingston

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Batman: D.C. Comics Inc.

Gargoyle’s Christmas

Chapter One From high atop one of the spires, Averic watched the young woman pass by his cathedral each morning and night. He’d been watching her for eight months, though she’d probably been going back and forth longer than that. He hadn’t noticed her until one particular day. An old man, one of the regulars who bought a newspaper every morning and sat on a bench in the cathedral’s courtyard to read it, stumbled as he crossed the pavement. He went down on his knees and the newspaper flew out of his hands. Picked up by a March breeze, it blew down the street. The girl who went to his aid wasn’t particularly pretty, at least not in the flashy way of so many of the city’s young women, who dressed and groomed themselves to attract attention. Her hair was light brown, long and curly, her eyes a warm hazel brown, her figure slim and light beneath her coat. But she moved with joyful grace and radiated the kind of warmth that made her attractive no matter what the shape of her features. Around her, people streamed in both directions on their way to work. They all ignored the old man and his distress. Except for her. She stopped to ask the man if he was all right. At his nod, she helped him to his feet and guided him to the nearest bench. She chased down and gathered his newspaper. It took her several minutes to find all the sections that had blown into the shrubs at the edge of the plaza. Her tights were shredded and her legs bore several scratches that bled a little by the time she rounded up all the paper and handed it to the man. Acknowledging his thanks with a nod and a smile, she rushed off, probably late for work. The impression of her lingered in his mind. Would she return that way in the evening? He saw so many pass going one direction in the morning and the other later in 5

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the day. He watched the crowds carefully but didn’t see her. Late, after most of the people had gone and only a few still rushed by, he saw her again. She walked more slowly, with less bounce and enthusiasm. Her face looked strained. People assume gargoyles are stone ornaments on the faces of buildings that act as drainage conduits or simple decorations. That’s true. It’s just not the whole truth. Within the stone forms, living creatures breathe and watch and study the world. In the dark of night when no one can see, they leave their stone capsules and fly free in the world. He wanted to follow her, to see where she lived, what she did and what she was like, but it wasn’t dark enough yet for him to leave his post. He watched for her the next morning. When she passed, looking once again sweet and joyful and fresh for another day something squeezed in his heart, which was neither stone nor flesh but no less real for that. He saw her again in the late afternoon as the sun sank behind the other side of the cathedral. She didn’t look as tired as she had the previous day, but still some of the earlier vitality was missing. He didn’t like to think that somewhere, some unfeeling brute drained her of all that lovely spirit. Over the next few months, his interest in her grew. Gargoyles had far better vision than humans, which allowed him to study her face as she passed. He noted what she wore and what she carried. She wasn’t rich, not even particularly well-off, judging by the quality of her clothes, shoes, boots and bags. But she had good taste, restrained but elegant. She wore only light makeup; her large eyes and clear complexion needed little enhancement. She became important to him. His heart lifted each time he saw her, for however brief a time. If she failed to pass or he missed her, the day grew less bright and life less interesting. For an entire week in the summer she failed to pass by. A cloud of depression settled over him. Had she moved away or taken a different job? Had something happened to her? Was she ill or injured? 6

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Mercifully the following Monday she strode by as usual. His heart jolted and the depression lifted. She was still around! In the evenings he continued to fly with his fellow gargoyles, but he began to soar farther afield, studying the world below, hoping for a glimpse of her. The chances he’d find her that way were slight. The city held millions of people, many thousands just in the neighborhood around the cathedral, and she might not even live there. It was possible she arrived by train from somewhere else. It took a while for his fellows to notice the change in him, but the others began to tease and question his excursions. “Averic’s been watching a human female,” his friend Vergoset commented, then asked him directly. “Do you think she’ll cry on you and turn you human like Niala of the Tears did for Orosint?” “That’s just a legend,” Averic answered. “A good story. But I am thinking that during the Solstice season I may choose to walk as a human for a while. I’d like to learn more about her.” “Even though you’ll be trapped in your stone for the year following? You’ve that much yearning to know a human female?” “She intrigues me. I’d like to know more.” Another of the cathedral gargoyles looked over. “Next thing you know he’ll be trying to get her to kiss him and say ‘I love you’ so he can remain in human form. He’ll be lost to us.” Though he proclaimed he just wanted to try out a human relationship, in his own heart, Averic wondered. Nothing had ever felt this way, and it confused him. It took until early November of that year before he finally had an opportunity to learn more about her. On that evening, she passed by the cathedral late, so late that for the first time, darkness allowed him to emerge from his stone capsule and follow her.

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In the gloom no one noticed his presence. Gargoyles excelled at staying in dark places and passing unnoticed. He might have remained in the shadows, trailing her silently through the city to her home, if he hadn’t seen a trio of humans ooze out of a dark corner and begin to follow her as well.

***** Tricia couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching her. She’d felt it ever since she’d walked past the cathedral ten minutes ago. Of course, she always got that prickle of awareness when she passed by there. It didn’t seem threatening or dangerous, but it gave her an odd shiver nonetheless. She hated walking home in the dark and mentally cursed her boss for insisting the monthly reports had to be finished that day. He didn’t have to present them to the board for another three days. Another half-day’s wait wouldn’t have killed him. Uneasiness turned to alarm when she heard a new sound. Footsteps came from behind, too close and clearly following her. At least two and possibly three people trailed her. She opened her purse and reached in to get her pepper spray. When a hand clasped her shoulder, spinning her around, she nearly dropped both purse and canister. Three men stood behind her. The darkness and shadows obscured their forms, but they reeked of alcohol and unwashed bodies. “Hey, lady,” one said. “Help the needy?” The words were slurred and insolent, not a request at all. She backed away, but they stepped with her, closing slowly in arc that surrounded her on three sides. “What do you want?” She reached into her purse to pull out her wallet. “I don’t have much money, but—” “This’ll do.” One of the three reached for the purse to snatch it from her. Another voice spoke from the shadows behind the three men. “I don’t think so.” What happened next occurred so fast she experienced it as a blur of motion. The thug in the center toppled sideways, taking the man on his left with him to the ground while 8

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the third one spun to face the newcomer, ducked, reared backward then crumpled up, moaning on the sidewalk. One of the other two had disentangled himself and swayed to his feet, fists swinging. A flash of movement in the darkness and he went down again, hard, landing almost at her feet. A tall man stepped over the prone form. A heavy cloak veiled his form and a broadbrimmed hat shaded his face, but he moved with powerful, supple grace and control. He was only slightly less frightening than the drunken, would-be muggers. He reminded her of the covers of some of her favorite romance novels, with heroes in flowing, dark capes. Would his face be as handsome when she saw it? What those covers didn’t convey was the sense of menace a large, dark, cloaked man conveyed. She took another step backward. “I won’t hurt you.” His voice was deep and rough, with an edge of gravel that sounded as though he didn’t speak much. Tricia drew a deep breath, struggling to repress a sob. “Who are you?” “A friend. Truly, I won’t harm you. You have my word. I’ll escort you home in case someone should try to attack you again.” He was dangerous, she decided, but she sensed no threat to herself from him except for his interest in her. That made no sense. Letting him know where she lived seemed like a bad idea. She opened her mouth to object but stopped on the realization that it didn’t matter. He could follow her anyway. “Thank you.” He took another step forward. She studied him, trying and failing to get a look at features obscured by the hat. Sighing, she gave up and turned to head for home. “Who are you?” she asked as they walked. “Why did you help me?” “You don’t think you’re deserving of assistance?”

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“Well, yes, but why me? People get mugged every night in the city and no one rescues them.” “I have only a few such rescues in me,” he said. The warm, deep tone sank into her with a calming effect. “Are you some sort of Batman wannabe?” she asked. “I am not a bat-man,” he said. “What are you then?” He hesitated before he answered, “Please call me a friend and leave it at that.” “All right. I’m sorry for all the questions. I am truly grateful for your help.” “It’s not wise to be out after dark by yourself on a lonely street like this.” “I know. My asshole boss made me work late. I don’t plan on letting it happen again.” She turned toward the door to her apartment block. “This is home. Thank you again for your help. I’d like to… Can I buy you a coffee or something sometime? Meet you somewhere?” His hesitation added to the sense of strangeness about him. “No, thank you. Knowing you’re safe is thanks enough. Now go inside.” “Thank you again, then,” she said. “I hope we’ll meet again, under more pleasant circumstances.” He nodded but didn’t answer. As she went inside and shut the door, she thought she heard him whisper, “So we shall.” The sound of his deep, rough voice and the way it seemed to reach into her and curl around her womb stayed with her for the rest of the evening. Was it just because she’d never been rescued before? Because it seemed that all the men she’d ever dated were either wimps or jerks? Because she’d never found that combination of confident authority, gentleness and honor in any other man and had pretty much decided she never would? Everything about him fed into her most basic and secret fantasies.

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He featured prominently in her dreams that night, especially the first one, the dozing fantasy that comforted while feeding her longing.

“You were late again tonight,” he said, his face stern. “I didn’t mean to be. My boss gave me extra work.” “You could have told him no. Did it really have to be done today? You could have reminded him it was unsafe for you to walk home in the dark.” “I suppose so,” she admitted. “You know you should have. But you didn’t. Even though I’ve asked you to. You know what that means.” Her stomach tightened with fear and excitement. “Yes, Sir.” “In the study.” She didn’t hesitate, but walked ahead of him to the extra bedroom he used as his home office. “Strip.” She stared into his set face, meeting the stern eyes. The expression in them was hard and uncompromising, but loving and concerned at the same time. After straightening and drawing together her courage, she began to remove her clothes, setting them on a side table as she went. His faint gasp and the changed rhythm of his breathing told her how much it affected him. When she was nude, he sat down in the only straight-backed, armless chair in the room and said “Come here.” She stood in front of him and watched the effort it took him to lift his gaze from her pussy and breasts to her face. “You know why I’m doing this, don’t you?” “Because I disobeyed you and came home alone after dark.” “And?” “You love me and you worry about my safety.”

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“Right.” He pulled her down to lie across his lap, face toward the floor. “And we agreed this was the best way to teach you a lesson.” His hand slapped down on her bottom in a sharp, stinging spank. A flurry of additional smacks followed, each one a little harder than the previous. She accepted it stoically at first. But the heat began to build in her rear end as he continued to spank. It started to burn and sting, and each slap added another lick of fire. Gasping moans slipped from her when his hand connected again and again. Those grew into louder groans and squeals as the spanking continued to toast her bottom. The buzz of fire in her ass sent a sharp river of longing through her, making her womb tighten and her pussy swell. Moisture seeped from her. He slapped a sharp spank on the tops of each of her thighs. Those stung more than the others and made her yell, “Yeooowch.” She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help trying to wriggle away from him. He put his arm around her waist and shifted one leg to hold her knees in place. Her pussy ached with longing, stoked by the building sting in her rear. His hand came down hard on the sensitive area where bottom and thighs met. She squealed and struggled so violently she nearly rolled off his lap despite his hold. Her bottom burned and stung until she felt it in every nerve when he smacked down. The fire ran right into her cunt where it transformed into sparkling pleasure and desperate need. When he stopped and rubbed a tender hand along the hot, punished flesh, moving down into her slit, lightning bolts of pleasure tore through her. Her groan then had nothing to do with pain. “We’re almost done,” he said, lifting her and helping her to her feet. Disappointment and another shaft of fear ran through her. “I want to make sure the message gets through. Go bend over my desk.” The swelling in her pussy made it hard to walk, but she got there and positioned herself the way she knew he wanted, standing in front of the desk, torso down on the surface so her breasts pressed into his blotter, fingers gripping the far edge. He came around the desk to tie a silk scarf around each wrist and fasten them to hooks he’d mounted beneath it. He didn’t make her bonds overly tight, but they reminded her sensually that 12

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she belonged to him, that she trusted him with the power to do this, to compel her obedience and submission and to punish her when she failed him. He disappeared behind her again. The sound of his belt slithering against cloth as he removed it from the loops of his pants made her shiver. The swish as it cut the air had her muscles tightening, then it smacked against her bottom with a loud crack. A band of fire seared across her skin and she groaned loudly, kicking out a free leg to cope with it. The second stroke took her lower, on her thighs and it drew a genuine scream. “Just one more,” he promised. Sobbing, she tensed in anticipation. He made her wait a few long moments before the final stroke crashed against her sore bottom. Fire exploded there and sent rivers of agony through her system. She screamed again and wriggled uncontrollably until he came around and released her hands. Her bottom was on fire and rubbing it only helped somewhat. At that same time moisture from her pussy streamed down her legs. Longing and need burned through her. He folded her into his arms and led her out of the room and into the bedroom. Somewhere along the line he managed to shed most of his clothes. He sat on the bed and drew her into his arms, kissing away the tears and then claiming her lips for a long, long kiss that drew out part of her essence to share with him. She leaned into his shoulder, relishing the solid, masculine feel of him. Only he had ever cared for her enough to master her, to demand obedience and to punish her when she failed, yet he also treated her with utmost respect most of the time. He shifted her onto the bed and began to stroke her, cheeks, breasts, nipples, abdomen and finally down to her cunt, which wept for his touch and his filling. His touches sent ripples of pleasure flowing through her and made her pussy throb even harder. “Please,” she begged. “Come in. I need you.” After a moment he moved again, rolling on top of her. His probing cock found her entrance. The relief of having him there was countered by the added pressure it brought. He pumped in

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and out, jolting her with delicious spasms of pleasure. A dam somewhere inside her held back a floodtide of need and it was being breached by his pummeling. “Harder,” she begged. “Patience, love,” he whispered before he stopped and kissed her again. “It will be better for being delayed.” “I can’t wait.” But she did. He took it slowly and careful, building it bit by bit, pumping harder each time, until he finally lost control himself and rammed his cock deep into her several times in succession. It breached her barrier. The flood of release rolled over her, carrying her away on waves of joy.

Tricia woke then, with her body still spasming. When she withdrew her fingers, they were sticky with her own juices. She rolled over and sighed, fighting the twinges of depression. Movies and books claimed there was a Mr. Right for everyone, but she was beginning to doubt she’d ever find one. So many Mr. Wrongs in her life. She was twenty-seven and hadn’t even come close to finding a Mr. Right. Was it time to give up and settle for what she could get?

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Chapter Two Averic hadn’t left her building that evening after she’d gone inside. Instead he’d hung back in the shadows across the street until all the windows in her block went dark, then he peered in each until he found her third-floor apartment. He’d watched her sleep and eavesdropped on her dreams. Now he knew what she wanted from a man. It pleased him, since it matched well what he wanted from her. He thrilled at the idea of becoming her Master, to claim control of her body, to tease her sexually, to punish, to bind, even to indulge in some mild torture as long as it pleased her, too. He wanted it as much as he wanted her sweet company, her laughter, her caring, her love given in return. He could be the man for her. On his return to the cathedral, he began to formulate his plans. It took some preparation. He had to shape the form he wanted to use and collect the things he would need. To be sure he made no mistake, he continued to watch her at night and listen in on her dreams. It confirmed that she wanted a Master, a man who could dominate her sexually, yet one who would respect and treasure her in every other facet of life. He could do that and she was worth whatever effort it took. As November’s days shortened, the few weeks a year when gargoyles could walk the Earth as men approached. “This isn’t a good idea, you know,” Vergoset told him. “For every Orosint who finds happiness with his Niala, there are a hundred others left with nothing but broken hearts and a year of imprisonment in stone. It’s a rare woman who can tell a gargoyle she loves him after she’s seen his true form.”

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“Tricia is a rare woman,” he answered. “But who indicated I wanted any permanent relationship?” “I see the signs,” Vergoset said. “And I’ve watched others. We form attachments to humans only rarely, but when we do they’re strong and lasting. Your heart yearns for this woman already.” His friend was right. Averic wanted Tricia in ways he couldn’t have imagined feeling only a year ago. The longer he listened to her dreams, the more he wanted to have a place in them. November faded into December, and the day came when he was ready to assume the human form he’d mapped out. The basic features came from the most frequent hero of her fantasies. He suspected from other scenes he’d seen in the dreams that the man was a coworker, and while she admired his looks, she despised the person. So he altered the appearance enough that he wouldn’t be an exact copy but would still have a face and form he thought would please her. The days had grown so short that she walked home in twilight every evening. Though Vergoset had warned him of the dangers of this course, he still willingly helped Averic set up the incident that let him meet her again. Just a few blocks from the cathedral, a busy intersection had crowds of people waiting on the corners for the light to change. When it went green, they all surged ahead. It took only a quick nudge from Vergoset to trip Tricia. Averic made sure he’d positioned himself to catch her. It worked even better than he’d hoped. Tricia not only fell toward Averic, she toppled hard enough to take them both to the ground. He made sure he remained beneath her so he bore the brunt of the collision. In the process his hand and cheek scraped across the pavement. His grunt of surprise and pain came out surprisingly loud. They disentangled themselves and a man passing by gave them a hand up before going on his way.

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Tricia turned to him. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened. I think someone stepped on my foot. I’m sorry that I— Oh!” She stared at his scraped cheek. “Oh, no.” She reached up and touched his face beside the injury. “It’s nothing.” He lifted his hand to brush at the blood seeping down his jaw. “Your hand, too.” She sounded distraught. “Do you need to go to a hospital?” “Good heavens, no. I just need to stop somewhere and buy some antiseptic and bandages. I can clean up at the hotel.” “Hotel? You’re staying in a hotel? You’ll have a hard time doing much with that hand.” She bit her lip for a moment before she said, “Come with me and I’ll help.” “I appreciate the offer, but you don’t need to,” he said. “Just direct me to a drug store where I can get some things. I’m new here.” “And staying in a hotel.” She sounded distressed. “Please let me help. This is no kind of decent introduction to our city.” “All right, if you insist. I’m Eric Stone, by the way. I got here a few days ago. I’ve just started looking for more permanent accommodations.” “Patricia McKinnon. My friends call me Tricia.” “May I call you that as well?” “Of course. Rescuing me from a nasty fall on the pavement more than earns you the right.” “Thank you.” The sensations his new body provided were interesting if not all pleasant. His face and palm stung from the scrapes, and a twinge in his side warned he’d have a bruise there. But those all faded into inconsequence compared to what the touch of her hand on his cheek did to him. Heat rushed through every limb and his groin tightened. Blood sped to his cock, making it swell. His balls filled and ached. He wanted to reach out and touch her. No, he wanted to drag her into his arms and taste her lips, slide her soft body against his,

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treat his nose with the scent of her and his skin with the feel of her. The intensity of it had him shaking. They didn’t talk much on the way to her apartment. She seemed almost as shaken as he, though possibly not for the same reason. She guided him into her building and unlocked the door to her flat. Setting her purse on the table near the entrance, she said, “Have a seat and I’ll get the first-aid kit.” Excitement kept him from sitting as she’d requested. Instead he drifted around the living room, scanning its inexpensive but well-chosen furniture and decorations. He stopped at the brightly decorated tree in the corner, studying the ornaments, both the gleaming balls and the minutely detailed, obviously hand-made items. Tricia came back in with a plastic box. She saw him examining the tree. “I know it’s kind of early, but Christmas is my favorite season. I like to make it last.” “Why not? It’s a wonderful time of year. This is unusual.” He fingered an elaborately carved and painted wooden star. “That was my grandfather’s. He inherited it from his mother. My dad used to tell me that if you wished on it the first time you touched it, the wish would come true.” Averic turned to stare at her with his hand still on the ornament. He knew most of those tales were just silly stories, but… If he could make a wish now, it would be that he could stay with her always. He wondered if the God whose church he adorned would grant a gargoyle’s wish. “Take off the jacket and sit,” she told him. He did as directed. Using a soft cloth dampened with warm water, she cleaned the abrasion on his face. Her fingers, light as feathers against his flesh, were a torment fiercer than the sting of the cloth on the wound. The subtle scent of flowers hung around her. He had to suck in a hard breath and hold it to keep from dragging her against him. She put a soothing ointment on his face and turned her attention to his hand and the scratch that ran from his palm up to several inches above his wrist. He could hear 18

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her quiet breathing turn more rapid as she continued to touch him, and the faint perfume of her arousal mixed with the lighter floral scent she wore to tease his nose. When she finished with his injuries she sat back, looked up and met his eyes. For several long minutes they stared at each other. In that shared glance was the mutual acknowledgement that, though they barely knew each other, interest and attraction gripped them powerfully. She caught her breath on something close to a sob, then leaned back and said, in a voice that wobbled, “I usually do something fairly simple for supper, like soup and a sandwich. It’s not much, but if you’d like to… I know you can probably get much better at your hotel, but…” “I’d be honored to share soup and a sandwich with you.” Conversation flowed easily over a supper that pleased his newborn taste buds. He told her he was new in town, having just transferred from Seattle as part of his job as a financial manager. He was staying in a hotel while looking for an apartment. He questioned her about her background. After dinner they had coffee and dessert in her living room. As he rose to leave, he couldn’t help it. She’d gotten up to escort him to the door and stood close. He had to have a taste of her, so he leaned down to brush his mouth over hers. Her lips moved softly at first, a delicate flutter of butterfly wings against his, but warm and promising. He wrapped his arms around her to draw her closer and she came willingly, pressing her body against his. Her lips parted, welcoming his tongue into the hot depths of her mouth. Fire ignited deep in his gut. “You’re delicious.” He had to draw back to say the words, but only for a moment. “You taste wonderful yourself.” She stretched to kiss him again. Heat rushed along his veins, making his blood turn to steam, tightening every muscle, gathering in his groin where the pressure grew heavy so fast it hurt. She had to feel the bulge of his cock, but it didn’t stop her from moving in even closer. A small 19

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groan from her almost sent him over the edge into a blazing madness. He’d never guessed human desire would be like this—a need so pressing he couldn’t figure out how to resist. Her tongue tangled with his, touching lightly, stroking and twining. Their breath mingled. He tasted coffee and cake, but she smelled like spring roses and rain and woman. She felt like heaven. Her response made his heart expand along with his cock. She pressed herself against him and wound her arms around his neck, pushing fingers into his hair with a soft moan. He tugged her blouse loose from her skirt and slid his hands up the soft, warm skin of her back until he reached the clasp of her bra. It took a moment of awkward maneuvering to release it. His hands moved around her sides, slipping under the loose fabric until the backs of his palms brushed the sweet curves of her breasts. She drew a sharp breath and then groaned deep in her throat. His senses reeled, overloaded. He was moments away from dragging her over to the couch and… With an effort, he ended the kiss and drew back. His breath heaved in and out in painful pants. Her expression changed from joyously sultry, drugged with desire, to dismay. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t… I’ve never done anything like this before. What did I do wrong?” “Don’t look like that.” He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “It’s nothing you did wrong. In fact, you did everything right. Too right.” He smiled at her, feeling like a bug when he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Tricia, we’ve known each other for all of—” He consulted his watch. “About three hours now. You’re not the kind of woman who does casual sex and I’m not the kind of man who wants it.” Honesty forced him to add, “Well, okay, I do want it, but I know better.” He studied her face, drinking in her guileless bemusement. “Have you had sex before?”

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A pink flush stained her cheeks as she shrugged. “A couple of times. But it’s never started out like…like this just felt.” “And I’ve never felt anything like it, either,” he admitted. “But we’re not going to rush into this in the heat of the moment.” “Will there be another moment?” she asked. “Oh, yes. A lot of them, I hope. If you’re willing. But first we’re going to take some time to get to know each other. And there’s something else you need to know about me. It affects our relationship.” Her gracefully arched, light brown eyebrows rose in question. “If I were to ask you to do some things that seemed…strange to you, what do you think you’d say?” “Like what?” she asked. “Like tomorrow, when you go to work, I want you to dress up in your prettiest dress, put your hair up, put on nice makeup, because I’m taking you out to dinner. But instead of pantyhose, I want you to wear a garter belt and stockings. If you don’t own any, go buy them on your lunch break. And before you leave work in the evening, take off your panties but leave on the garter belt and stockings. If I asked you to do that for me, would you?” Her frown broke up into a slow, almost reluctant smile. Color rose in her cheeks as she nodded. “How would it make you feel?” he asked. “Probably more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.” “Good. Then you’ll do it?” “Yes.” He took her hand, but didn’t move closer. “Do you have plans for the weekend? No? Good. Will you show me your favorite sights around the city? But when you do, I want you to wear thong panties and no bra under your clothes. It’s cold enough we’ll

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have to wear coats, so no one will know except the two of us. Maybe on Sunday I’ll even ask you to wear only the panties and bra under your coat.” She sucked in a harsh breath. The hand he held trembled. “I swear I won’t do anything to hurt or humiliate you,” he promised. “These things will all be private to us.” He waited for her nod before he continued, “I need you to know that this is how I am. If it’s too much for you or frightens you too much or just makes you want to run away screaming, then tell me now before we go any further.” “No, it doesn’t. But…” “But?” “How much further does it go?” He paused. “A good question. Mostly that depends on how far we decide we want it to go. If it gets to that, I’d like to be your Master as well as your lover, but what that means is negotiable. I wouldn’t expect you to live under my thumb or be subservient all the time. I think you’re a natural sexual submissive, however. I hope you’ll play my games for the next few days, and see if that’s true. We’ll take it from there, one step at a time. And if you don’t like those kinds of games or don’t want to play, it doesn’t mean there can’t be anything else between us.” He kissed her lightly again. “It’s got to be some kind of strange Christmas magic. We met just a few hours ago, but already I feel like there’s a connection between us. Something deep inside me already belongs to you. I don’t know how that could be. I’ve certainly never reacted that way to any other woman before.” He turned, but before he left, he bent down and touched her forehead, her nose and her lips. “I’ll meet you in front of the cathedral tomorrow at five-thirty.” Before temptation overwhelmed him again, he scooted out the door and closed it behind him.

*****

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Tricia had a hard time falling asleep that night. It had been a stupid impulse to invite a stranger into her home, even if the man had saved her from a nasty fall and been injured in the process. But he’d deliberately rolled and twisted to be sure she would land on him rather than on the pavement, saving her the same scrapes and bruises he’d suffered. That little bit of gallantry had won her over. It might still be stupid to agree to see him again tomorrow and to play his sexy games. He might well break her heart. A man as gorgeous as him was rarely attracted to a woman as plain as her. Okay, she wasn’t really plain, more like passably pretty, but she wasn’t anywhere near his league in looks. He was the handsomest, sexiest man she’d ever met. He reminded her a bit of Simon Vitorini in the production department, with the square jaw and dimples in his lean cheeks that showed when he smiled. But Eric’s deep reddish-brown hair and green eyes made him even better looking than black-haired, brown-eyed Simon, and he seemed, at first meeting anyway, to lack Simon’s inflated ego and assumption the world revolved around him. The things Eric had proposed turned her on in ways no man had done before. Not that many had even tried, she admitted. It was almost as though he could read her mind and knew she wanted a strong, dominant man to be her lover. A dominant man who wasn’t a jerk at the same time. She didn’t really believe his line about there being some connection between them and how he’d never felt that way before. It was flattering and undoubtedly worked for him when it came to getting the girl, but she wasn’t stupid enough to believe it. Yet, she had felt something strange and different, something almost magical pulsing between them. It wasn’t all lust. His voice pushed her over the edge. It sounded familiar but it took her a few moments to figure out why. The deep, gravelly tones had reminded her strongly of the man who’d rescued her a few weeks back. At first she’d thought it was him, but that couldn’t be. Eric had just arrived in town. 23

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She dressed with more care than ever before the next morning, exactly as he directed. At lunch she bought a garter belt and stockings as well as a couple of thongs, a silk-and-lace camisole and a pair of silk panties with cutouts in strategic places. The afternoon dragged horribly, but the time to leave finally rolled around. She stopped in the ladies’ room and slipped her panties off. It made her feel incredibly wicked and sexy as she strode down the stairs to the exit. The attack of nerves hit her on the way out of the building. Would he really be waiting for her? Was she sure he wasn’t just a glorious fantasy, an extension of her favorite erotic dreams? But no, he was real and he waited for her, looking just as tall and handsome as she remembered. Though it was nearly dark, he stood in the glow of a streetlight so she could find him easily. His smile when he spotted her was a masterpiece of grace and sensuality. He took her to one of the more expensive restaurants in town. Shame that it was, Tricia barely knew what she ate and paid little attention to what was undoubtedly a very good wine. It was easy to talk to him—about a broad range of subjects. The time passed in a golden haze as they discussed jobs and interests and even ventured carefully into the dangerous arena of political views. They didn’t agree on everything but he respected her opinions. He argued issues intelligently and without belligerence. During dessert, though, an incredibly decadent crème brûlée, he leaned over to whisper to her, “How does it feel to not wear panties?” “Strange. Different. Exciting.” “Good. While you eat the next bite of dessert, think about me touching you there, between your legs, on the places your panties would normally cover.” “Dear heaven.” She closed her eyes and did as he said. The vision of his lean graceful fingers running over her cunt and imagining how that would feel made her groan. Then she put the spoonful of custard in her mouth and almost had an orgasm right on the spot from the combination. “It’s going to be that good,” he whispered. “And even better.” 24

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“If you can deliver on that promise, I’ll be your slave forever,” she said. When his green eyes widened and his mouth crooked into a devilish grin, she realized what she’d said. One of his eyebrows rose as though challenging her to confirm it wasn’t a joke. She meant every word of it, even if she hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Yet. “There’s a challenge I can’t resist,” he said. He took her home in a taxi and asked the driver to wait for him while he escorted her inside. She hoped and prayed he’d kiss her again before he left, a prayer that was answered. Her heart squeezed and flip-flopped when he pulled her against him and leaned down. The moment his lips touched hers, the firestorm swept through her, making her skin tingle and her bones weaken. It still felt a bit unreal—this had happened so fast. He was almost too good to be true, but he was with her and the hands he ran down her back felt solid and strong and hot. When they traveled farther down over her buttocks and he cupped them in his palms, holding her hips against him, she thought she’d explode from the pressure of need. Moisture seeped from her naked cunt, slipping down her leg. She reached between them and undid two buttons on his shirt to enable her to touch his skin. Her fingers stroking along the muscles of his chest drew a sharp groan. It sent a thrill rushing through her, to know she had that much power over this big, strong man who would be her Master. Yes, he would, but she would master him in a very deep and real sense as well. His skin felt so fabulous, too—a warm, sleek coating over solid muscle. His fingers squeezed into her bottom, pinching a little. The small pain translated into major pleasure when it reached her cunt, making her swell even more. He released her and stepped back, gently removing her hand from his chest. Disappointment drew a sigh from her.

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“Enough for tonight,” he said. “It will be all the better for waiting for it. I’ll be here tomorrow morning at nine-thirty. Wear what you want, but don’t forget thong panties and no bra underneath.” He smiled, kissed her lightly and turned to go. She watched him until even his russet-colored hair disappeared from sight on the stairs. The feeling of unreality swept over her again. No one remotely like him had ever been part of her life. She could barely believe this was real. He had to be some kind of Christmas miracle. Had she been extra good this year, to get a reward like him? The next morning she rose slightly past dawn, showered, washed her hair and dried it as she considered what to wear. She settled on jeans and her favorite sweater. The deep green color brought out the gold highlights in her otherwise undistinguished brown hair and the fine, light weave let her braless nipples show through when they pebbled up. Her thigh-length coat, necessary because the temperature hovered in the low forties, would cover that revealing detail. He wore jeans, a dress shirt and a leather jacket over it. The jeans had a designer label and the jacket probably cost more than her entire month’s salary. Even more mystery. The man not only had looks, he had money, too. He carried an intriguingly plain white shopping bag. A wave of doubt shook her for a moment. Men like him dated models and movie stars, not passably pretty accounting managers. Could this be some kind of joke someone played on her? But he had to be one hell of a good actor to pull it off in that case. And no one knew of her fantasies. So how could he, if he didn’t share them? His kiss made her weak, made her want to plaster her body to him, climb inside him and stay there. But he broke it off quickly and handed her a long, slim box he pulled from the bag. When she opened it, with shaking fingers, she found a graceful chain of solid gold links interspersed with gold plates. It felt cool and heavy in her hand and glittered with reflected light. “It’s lovely.” She could hardly speak. A hard knot blocked her throat. 26

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He lifted the chain from its box. “It’s called a choker, but it looked like a sort of collar to me. My name is engraved on one of the plates. I’d like you to wear it for me as a recognition that I’m your Master. At least for today. Will you do that?” She looked up at his face, seeing the hope lighting his eyes while a bit of apprehension pulled his mouth into a gentle frown. Not even the best actor could manage to make that combination so very real. “Yes. Will you put it on me?” His fingers were warm and careful as he hooked the necklace around her throat. They shook slightly, too. The chain settled snugly against her skin but not too tight, a sensual caress. To her surprise, he pulled another tissue-wrapped packet from the bag. When she unwrapped it, she found a set of four sleek, silk scarves in a variety of colors. “They’re lovely,” she said. “Thank you. Do you want me to wear one of these, too?” “No, they’re for later,” he answered, taking them from her and setting them down on a side table. They left for their tour of the city. Because she lived in the downtown area, Tricia didn’t own a car. If Eric had one, he didn’t mention it, so they took the subway, buses and cabs when necessary to visit the places tourists went, the monuments and parks, museums and striking buildings. They walked and talked and laughed and held hands and gaped at beautiful structures and amazing statues. They stopped for quick, safe kisses in hidden corners. He insisted they take an open tour bus around one part of the city to get a quick view of the most important places when she admitted she’d done very little sightseeing though she’d lived there for nearly six years. His enthusiasm surprised her. It seemed almost out of place in a man as sophisticated as he seemed. Yet, he showed an almost innocent and touching delight in every graceful bit of architecture. At one notoriously unaesthetic monument, he studied it with a puzzled expression and finally asked, “Who thought that was a good idea?” 27

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“I believe the artist described it as approaching the idea of love and sacrifice by ‘thinking outside the box’.” His eyebrows rose. “The artist really should check that box again. He didn’t find what he needed outside it.” She laughed. His sense of humor popped up frequently during the day. It tended to be somewhat dark and wryly sardonic, but witty and intelligent at the same time and never mean. It matched her own nicely that way. On the bus, his hand would sometimes creep to her thigh and explore. He did it carefully, discreetly, usually under cover of the fabric of her coat or while sheltering her from anyone else’s view with his body. Even through the denim fabric, his touch sent rivers of pleasure coursing through her. She leaned into him, reveling in his solid masculine presence and the promise of his stroking. The man was a marvel and a miracle. His unfailing politeness, not just to her, but also with vendors, conductors, tickettakers, drivers and everyone else, won her admiration. It came so easily and naturally to him, it had to be more than just a show he put on for her. His careful assistance of a woman struggling with the stairs in a museum added more weight to her regard, but brought some unease with it. He was just too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere. No matter. By the end of the day she was in love with him. Completely, irretrievably, wholeheartedly head-over-heels gone. She also lusted for him more than she could ever have imagined wanting anyone. They stopped at a deli for sandwich makings and salads, then carried them back to her apartment for supper. She’d never thought of putting together sandwiches and eating them as foreplay, but he approached food with the same zestful intensity and innocent enjoyment he did everything else. He ate slowly, savoring each bite. Watching his lips move and his

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expression as he tasted each bit proved incredibly erotic. He’d savor the taste of a woman just as gleefully. His hands were large and capable, with long, strong fingers. She loved watching them. She couldn’t help imagining what those hands would look like on her flesh and thinking about what they could do with her. He grinned at her and said, “You’ve got a spot of potato salad on your lip.” Instead of reaching over with a finger or napkin to flick it off, though, he swiped it with his tongue. Thrills chased down her spine from the contact as the heat spread into her cunt, making her swell and tighten. She finished the food in a haze of need and desire. Her body still shook with it when they finished. She made coffee while he wrapped up the leftovers and cleaned off the table. When they’d drained the coffee, he studied her for a moment, then said, “Close the curtains.” He nodded to the living room drapes. While she did that, he turned off all the lights except for those on the Christmas tree. As Tricia returned to the sofa, he said, “Stop. Stand there a moment.” Her heart lurched and began to beat faster but she paused and waited as he requested. He studied her with a lazy, sultry gaze. “Take off your sweater,” he ordered. She drew a deep breath. Tingles ran all over her skin without him even touching her. She lifted the hem of the sweater and drew it over her head, dropping it on the nearest chair. Her breasts weren’t huge but they were well-shaped and didn’t sag. Wisps of moving air from the heating duct brushed over bare skin. Her already tight nipples became hard pebbles. When he came to her and put a palm below each breast, lifting them and feeling their softness, she groaned. Hot streaks ran from the site to spread into her womb and cunt. His index fingers brushed across each breast, flicking softly over the nipples. Shards of sheer, raw pleasure ripped through her. He grinned at her squeals. “Stay still,” he ordered when she started to wriggle and tried to lean in closer to him. He put surprisingly definite authority into the words.

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“Yes, Sir.” She looked up into his eyes. The expression on his face showed the depth of his need to dominate, but it also displayed his appreciation for her acceptance of it. It took an effort but she remained still as he explored her breasts, fingering every square inch, circling the areola numerous times and swiping her nipples until she felt hot and heavy and ready to explode. He stepped back. “Take off your shoes, socks, jeans and panties.” She leaned down to obey. The simmering excitement that tightened her pussy and womb made it hard to move, but she slowly removed all her remaining clothing other than the thong. Tremors shook her as she straightened, letting him gaze his fill at her. “Turn around. Slowly. Let me see all of you.” Her bottom was a bit larger than it should be, her hips a little too broad. But she obeyed and twirled. When her back was turned, she heard him suck in a sharp, hard breath. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he said. The reverence in his voice curled into her heart and settled there. He stepped forward again and put his hands on her sides, just under her armpits, then brushed down beside her breasts, along her waist, over the curve of her hips and down her thighs to her knees. “Perfect,” he said. He twirled her around to face him and met her eyes. His blazed with passion. “You’re perfect.” “Not exactly perfect,” she said. “My butt’s too big.” Sudden anger fired in his expression. “I’m your Master. You don’t argue with me. If I say you’re perfect, you’re perfect. Understood?” A squeezing sensation deep in her gut went straight to her pussy with a force that shook her. Elation fizzed through her veins. “Yes, Sir,” she answered. “Good. Lead the way to your bedroom.” The lightheadedness of unexpected joy combined with the swelling and pressure in her cunt to make it hard to walk, but she did as he told her. She turned to watch his

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reaction to her room and enjoyed his grin as he studied her queen-sized, four-poster bed and considered the possibilities it offered. “Lay down on it,” he said. She hadn’t seen him pick up the silk scarves he’d given her earlier and didn’t realize he had them until he wrapped one around her wrist and then fastened it to a bedpost. A sudden rush of panic speared through her. “They’ll come loose with a good, hard tug,” he said, seeing her expression. “You needn’t be frightened. You can get free if you need to. You won’t need to, though. If you don’t like something I do or want me to stop, just ask and I will. Please? Trust me to do that?” “Yes.” His smile then was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. It showed his pride and love and need and respect for her and even freed his rampant desire for her to view. Then he shifted to stand at her ankles and fastened them to the bed in the same way, leaving her lying spread-eagled, face-up, completely nude. She’d never felt more exposed, more vulnerable and helpless. She’d never felt so hot and heavy and desperate for a man’s touch either. He came back and ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it on the pillow. “You can’t imagine how appealing you look like this.” He kissed her on the mouth, then moved down her jaw along the sensitive flesh of her throat and continued to her breasts. When his tongue swirled across her nipple, liquid heat flowed from the spot. Pressure built in her cunt and womb, a need for filling, for completion, for him. Drawing the tip of her breast into his mouth, he sucked hard on it and scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin. “Oh my God, Eric,” she moaned. “Oh, lord! Nothing ever felt this good before.” “Just wait,” he promised.

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She wriggled a bit but the scarves bound her in place. Each time she tugged at one, it reminded her that she’d given herself completely into his care. She could only do what he allowed and commanded. He kissed his way down her belly and across her abdomen. Breath wheezed in and out of her in hard pants. She raised her head so she could watch him. His face, his body, everything about him appealed, from the gorgeous creases surrounding his mouth to the long, strong legs. Some kind of miracle had occurred to bring him to her. God, she prayed, let it be permanent. I want him, I need him, I love him. For a moment she got lost in the emotions he roused, until he moved again and his tongue ran down the inside of each thigh, back up again and brushed across her labia. Her loud groan held a shockingly raw sensuality. Gentle fingers parted the labia and his tongue investigated within. When it brushed over her clit, furious pleasure shook her, made her back arch and drew a scream. “Eric!” His name became almost a chant as he licked her clit, again and again. Nothing had ever been like this. She was swelling and flying, rushing toward the edge of a cliff. The feeling, the sheer, consuming, fiery pleasure, engulfed her until she was drowning in it. Tension drew her so hard her back lifted off the bed and her breath came out as sharp, hard pants. His tongue explored her entire slit, dipping into her vagina and tasting the folds before returning to flick her clit some more. Her body throbbed, trembled in time to the rhythm of his tongue, getting faster, tighter and harder until she broke apart, splintered and exploded into ecstasy. Spasms of pleasure tore through her, jolting her time and again. It took her out of time and space, to a dimension where only the two of them even existed. It took a while to come back down to earth and back into her body, but when she did, she found him sitting on the bed next to her, watching her with a satisfied grin. He’d undone the scarves, freeing her. “You keep your promises,” she told him. 32

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His eyebrows rose though the look of amusement didn’t disappear. “Which one?” “You said it would get even better. You were right. Can it get any better than that?” His lips curved into a deeper smile, showing the attractive grooves that bracketed his sensual mouth. “It can, but not tonight.” “I’m feeling greedy.” “And not submissive enough. Remind me to punish you for that tomorrow.” “Is that a promise?” He leaned down to kiss her. “Promise,” he whispered. “I’ve got to go now. But I’ll see you tomorrow morning. We’ll go to church and then do whatever else you want. It’s supposed to be cold, so wear a warm coat. Do you have a long one?” She nodded. “Good. Wear it. With your prettiest bra and panties underneath. Garter belt and stockings. Your highest heels. And the choker. Nothing else. You won’t have to take off the coat. I promise. Only you and I will know what’s not underneath it.” “But you…” She looked at the bulge his swollen cock made in his pants. “I want to give you back some…” He put a finger over her lips. “This is my choice. Don’t argue. I’ll be fine.” “You won’t spend the night?” “Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Stay there for now. I’ll let myself out.” When he’d gone, she lay for a while marveling at the turn her luck had taken. After too many years of being ignored by men or chased by a few wimps or jerks, to have a man like Eric want her so much was almost more than she could believe. There had to be a catch somewhere. This couldn’t last.

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Chapter Three He arrived promptly the next morning. Tricia had dressed exactly as he specified, including keeping on his choker. She hadn’t removed it since he’d put it on her the previous morning. She already wore her coat when he got there. Her heart leapt at the sight of the small rolling carryon case he brought and again when he pulled another long jeweler’s box from a zippered side pocket of it. “I want you to have several of them, so you can match them to your outfits.” The box he handed her held another chocker, this one of silver with small, dangling charms. At her request he helped her take off the other one and replace it with the new version. Though the metal was initially cool on her throat, it warmed rapidly. His kiss didn’t start coolly at all. It was hot right from the moment his mouth met hers. It made her blood turn to steam and her bones turn to rubber. She wanted to climb inside him, become one with him and stay there. It took his fingers under chin, pushing upward, and a step backward on his part to pry them apart. His green eyes narrowed in a wicked grin that deepened the grooves surrounding his ridiculously sensual mouth. “We have things to do,” he said gently. “We’ll get back to this.” “Do you practice any religion?” he asked her as they went down the stairs and out the door. “No, not really. I don’t believe in it much anymore.” “Will it bother you to go mass with me at the cathedral?” “No.” In truth she didn’t want to tell him how much it would please her, though for all the wrong reasons.

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They walked to the cathedral. During the service she discovered that Eric did have at least one flaw to ruin what had begun to seem like too much perfection. The man couldn’t sing worth a damn. Afterward, they had breakfast at a nearby café. It felt a little odd to eat wearing her coat, but the secret grins she and Eric shared more than compensated. He didn’t take off his suit jacket either. Later she took him to her favorite shopping area, where he helped her pick out gifts for her family. “Are you planning to visit them for Christmas?” he asked. She heard something odd in his tone, a hint of panic he tried to tamp down. “Not this year,” she answered. “After my dad died a few years ago, my mom remarried. I like her new husband well enough, but he’s got several kids of his own. If I go there, it just adds to the chaos. I’d have to stay in a hotel anyway or sleep on a sleeping bag in the den since they don’t have much room. Last year I went to my sister’s, but she’s going to her in-laws this year. She said I’d be welcome to come, too, but I’d rather just stay here and enjoy a more peaceful holiday.” His smile showed his pleasure that she’d be staying around and a strange bit of relief. When she offered to help him with family shopping, he shook his head. “I don’t have much family left,” he said. “Just a couple of brothers. We don’t exchange gifts.” He didn’t say any more and turned the conversation to a dress he saw in a store window. It was an understated but glamorous creation in red and black silk, with a subtly beaded top. “You’d look lovely in that,” he said. “Maybe, but I don’t have any place to wear it. Except maybe…the company Christmas party next weekend. But it’s way beyond my budget.” He tugged at her hand to lead her into the store and insisted she try on the dress. It did look good on her, but she still felt odd when he paid a staggering amount of money to buy it.

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The day turned gray and cloudy, but that only made the lights of the holiday decorations on the streets and in the shop windows glow brighter and seem more magical yet. When he held her hand, the cold breeze and even a fine misty rain didn’t matter. At their final stop they got Chinese takeout before they headed back to her apartment. She hesitated taking off her coat at home, but when he helped her out of it, she couldn’t refuse. Mustering her courage, she asked him, “Would you take off your shirt?” He turned toward her, eyebrows raised. The lovely, lazy grin that showed the dimples in his lean cheeks spread across his face. He took off his suit coat and laid it over the back of a chair, then unbuttoned his shirt, slid it off and pulled the white Tshirt he wore beneath it over his head. His chest exceeded all her expectations. Broad and strongly muscled at the shoulders, it tapered down to a much leaner waist. A light mat of dark russet hair covered the pale skin. It surprised her that he had no tan, not even a faded remnant of one. He seemed the kind of man who would spend a good part of his summer in outdoor activities. It didn’t matter, though. She still longed to brush her hands, cheek and mouth over his flesh. While she laid out the food, he turned on the Christmas tree and turned off the other lights. Instead of eating at the kitchen table, she set the food on the coffee table in the living room. He sat on the sofa and she took the floor opposite. She made another interesting discovery as he looked at the utensils she’d provided. He had no clue what to do with chopsticks. She demonstrated the technique and tried not to grin as he fumbled around with them, losing most of whatever he managed to snag before it got to his mouth. All amusement fled when he demanded, “Feed me.” She met his eyes and saw the passion and need blazing there. Heat curled through her stomach. She shifted nearer to him, grabbed a bit of moo goo gai pan and rice and 36

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lifted it to his lips. His mouth opened to take it in, showing his strong, white teeth. Her fingers brushed his chin and lips as she placed that bit of food on his tongue. She caught her breath at the erotic feel of it. Her bare shoulder touched against his when she offered the next bite. The resulting shiver almost shook the food off the chopsticks. Every other bite or two, he told her to have some herself. She would swear she could taste him along with the food, adding to the flavor. It made for a slow meal and a highly satisfying one. As dinner went on, their fingers brushed cheeks, chins and throats. Elbows slid along each other’s arms, shoulders and chests. Her breasts, in the flimsy silk bra, rubbed against his arms and chest. Thighs and hips nudged together. They giggled and cuddled and began touching more than the meal demanded. After a while they gave up the pretense of eating. They kissed and stroked and worked each other into a haze of need. After some time of it, though, he pulled back and stopped her hand from brushing over his nipples. “Steady,” he said to her as she gasped in surprise. “Let’s not take it so fast. You’ve work to do now, my angel.” “Work?” “I have too much on and so do you. I want you to take care of that.” “Can do.” She reached for the zipper of his suit pants. “No.” He grabbed her wrist again and gently moved her hand off him. “You do what I tell you, when I tell you.” His voice gentled out of its dramatic and erotically charged sternness for a moment. “If you agree?” She looked into his eyes and nearly drowned in what she saw there. “Yes,” she murmured, bemused by the strength of the connection and how well he understood her. “Good.” He stood up. “Into the bedroom.” Once there, he said, “Take off the bra.”

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She unhooked it and let him look his fill. He went and sat on the side of her bed before he said, “Take off my shoes and socks.” Tricia got down on her knees in front of him and pulled off the leather loafers and dark socks. On impulse she rested her head on his thighs for a moment, wrapping her arms around his legs. His fingers brushed through her hair and over her cheek in a tender, sensual caress. After a moment, he shifted her, stood up and helped her to her feet. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” he ordered. When she’d done that, he nodded to his pants. “Now these.” The buckle of his belt clinked as she undid it and she almost ripped the button off the fabric in her eagerness. She took more care with the zipper to keep from getting the fabric or anything else caught in it. When she pushed the pants down, he stepped out of them, revealing long, muscular, hairy legs and an impressive bulge under the sexy black silk briefs. Without thinking, she reached out to put a hand on it, testing its size and weight. His choked groan delighted her. But then he took hold of her wrist and moved it off him. “You’re getting greedy again. I didn’t say you could touch yet, now, did I?” His stern expression had her tipping her head forward and dropping her gaze. “No. Sir.” “Take off my briefs.” Sucking in a hard breath, she pushed them down, lifting the band to get it over the bulge, then sliding it down the muscled length of his thighs. His cock sprung free and saluted her. Long, thick and hard, it stood proudly, begging for her touch, weeping to be buried inside her where it belonged. “Now, come over here.” He sat down on the bed again but scooted back. When she got closer, he tied one of the scarves around her wrists, fastening them together. She hadn’t seen him pick it up, but obviously he’d grabbed at least one somewhere along 38

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the way. He pulled her until she lay facedown across his thighs, but on the bed. “You need a lesson in submission.” His hand came down sharply on the left side of her bottom. She squealed though more from surprise than pain. He slapped the right side a little harder. It didn’t really hurt, just stung a bit at first. The fire it roused zipped through her like a river running straight from her bottom to her pussy. Moisture gathered there as she wriggled against his thighs. The hard shaft of his cock poked into her hip as he spanked her. After half a dozen spanks, he stopped and asked, “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson about waiting for permission?” “Hmmm,” Tricia answered. “I’m not sure. It might take a bit more discipline.” He laughed and swatted a couple more times, harder, then rolled her over and lifted her shoulders until her head was against his chest. “You enjoyed that far too much. I’m not sure how effective it is.” “Oh, very effective,” she promised him. “Truly. Give me an order now, Master, and you’ll see how effective.” He laughed again. “All right. On your knees.” He pointed to the floor in front of him. Tricia scrambled to slide off his lap and get down on her knees. “You wanted to touch,” he said. “Now you can. In fact, I insist on it. Touch me.” He pulled the scarf off her wrists and spread his legs apart. She slid forward, winding her left arm around his thigh for support. Her right hand went to his cock and rested for a moment on the hard shaft. The softness of the skin there contrasted with the firmness of the muscle beneath it and the rough hairiness of the thigh her other hand rested on. Touching it was sheer delight, especially when it jerked under her attention. She ran an experimental finger down to where it rose from his balls, then back up, all the way to the tip. He moaned aloud and pushed his fingers into her hair.

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“Am I hurting you?” she asked. He let out a harsh laugh. “It feels so good it’s painful.” “Oh, I guess that’s good. Tell me what else I can do to please you.” “You’re doing fine. Keep going.” The silky sleekness of the skin at the tip amazed her. A drop of fluid seeped from the small opening and she rubbed it over the smooth surface. Her hand slid back down the shaft to his balls and explored there. They felt completely different from his cock, rougher and hairier on the outside, but soft and vulnerable beneath. She cupped him and squeezed gently, until he moaned and his fingers tightened in her hair. “Show me what pleases you the most,” she asked him. He took her hand and wound it around his shaft, then slid it up and down the length. His harsh breathing grew even more ragged as she pumped him, occasionally reaching up to swipe a finger across the gorgeously silky tip. The shaft throbbed in her hand. The muscles of his thigh tightened into steel-hard cords. When she leaned over and kissed the tip of his cock, he let out a sharp breath that was close to a sob. “Enough,” he commanded, lifting her up with hands around her waist. “I’m just about to explode and I’m not going to do it into your fist.” He swung her onto the bed and leaned over to suckle her breasts. His clever tongue and lips had her moaning within minutes. For a moment he turned away while he reached for something. Paper crackled and an odd crinkling sound signaled he’d put on protection. “Are you ready for me?” he asked once his cock was sheathed. “God, yes,” she groaned. “How ready?” “So ready I’m about to forget I’m a submissive and drag you down here.”

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“Hmm. Don’t want to risk that.” He rolled over on top of her, his weight on his elbows. The blazing green eyes were so close she could see the flecks of different shades of moss and leaf and grass in their depths. When she raised her head to kiss him again, she closed her eyes, the better to savor the feel of his body against hers. His penis probed gently for her opening, but once he found it, he pushed on in. She’d had only two lovers, if the kid who’d actually spent on her belly in his coltish eagerness counted. The other man had gotten in but hadn’t known or cared how to make it good for her. Both incidents had been more than three years ago. Technically she wasn’t a virgin, but she might as well have been. He entered her slowly, with frequent stops while he waited for her to adjust and get comfortable. His care tied another silken cord around her heart, binding her to him. Because of his gentle approach, she soon grew used to the way he stretched her. Then his cock hit a spot deep inside, jolting her with a spasm that rocketed through her. The concerned frown on his face lightened to a smile when she squealed in delighted surprise. He drew back and pushed in again. It hit the same spot. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she jerked against him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, in between kissing her earlobe and nibbling on it. Her breath came in harsh pants. Pressure rose inside her, a molten mass heating her insides and clenching her muscles. “Eric, I don’t think—” A louder squeal pushed out, interrupting her breathless words, when he found the right place again. “Oh, God, you’re killing me. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” He ratcheted in and out unevenly, growing even harsher as he pumped into her, faster, harder, deeper. A spring somewhere inside got squeezed tighter and tighter. It was impossible. She couldn’t stand it. The tension rose beyond bearing. She’d break if it went on much longer. And it got harder and tighter yet.

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Until he slowed, pulled back then rammed his cock home inside her. He let out a roar as his seed spurted into her. His cock hit that spot again and this time the spring gave way, rocketing her into an orgasm so intense she jerked repeatedly for a long time. They lay tangled together for a while afterwards, panting for breath, nestling sweaty bodies against each other. “I’ve never had anything like this,” he said, blowing into her ear as he spoke the words. “Never.” “Me either. I had no idea it could be so… Good seems like such an inadequate word.” “Earthshaking,” he offered. “Yeah, more like that.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, tightly, as a sudden tide of tenderness and love overwhelmed her. She wanted to tell him how she felt but they’d known each other such a short time and she couldn’t be sure what he intended. “You’re my Christmas miracle,” she told him. For a moment he went very still, then relaxed and laughed softly against her cheek. “More than you know. And you’re mine. At least I hope you’ll be.” “I’ll do my best.” “Good enough for now.” He rolled off her, settled down into comfort and drew her into his arms. They fell asleep that way.

***** Eric woke early the next morning and had coffee brewing and toast browning by the time Tricia emerged from the bedroom, showered, dressed and ready to go to work. As he watched the way she moved and smiled at him, a wondrous joy spread through him, accompanied by a few squeaks of nerves. Her kiss deepened both the joy and apprehension.

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The solstice approached, which meant his time was almost half up. He had to tell her, to start preparing her. Dread pulled his stomach into hard knots each time he thought about it. Sometime soon he would have to show her what he was and hope that she really did love him deeply enough to be able to say it to him when he was in that shape. A shape that would shock and probably repel her. His stomach tensed with the fear that it might be too much of a shock or too disgusting to her. He sat down on her couch and stared into the colorful lights of her Christmas tree as he considered how best to tell her. Could she cope with it? She didn’t read fantasy and didn’t believe in the supernatural. She didn’t have any religious faith or experience with any other reality beyond the everyday world. How would she take this? Would she be able to accept it? He’d never received a Christmas gift before and never wanted one. But now he wanted something so badly he hardly dared think about it. He said a quiet prayer and wondered if there was any possibility of it being answered. Every night that week he met her after she got off work. They went out to dinner, then sometimes to a movie or a club for dancing, and back to her apartment for the lovemaking that continued to tie his heart and soul in knots. He didn’t push her too hard or too far, wanting her to adjust to his dominance but understand he did it to please her as much as himself. She warned him that her company would have its annual Christmas party on the next Saturday and asked him to accompany her. He agreed if she promised to wear the dress he’d bought for her, with a garter belt and hose but no panties. On Wednesday evening, as they ate dinner at a local Italian restaurant, it began to snow. After the meal they walked around the shopping district for a while, taking in the lights and decorations, letting the huge white flakes drift around them. Tricia’s eyes were wide and she laughed joyously when bits of snow settled on her nose or lips or in the hand she put out to catch them. 43

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He had to screw up his courage before he said, “Tricia, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m not exactly what you think I am.” She stopped and turned to him. The sudden panic in her eyes cut into him like a knife to the gut. “You’re married.” She said it with a certain bitterness. “No. I’m not.” He made that as definite as he could. “Then… You’re leaving?” “Not unless you want me to, after you hear what I have to say. You might. You might think I’m completely insane.” “I won’t. I love you, Eric. I want a future with you, if it’s possible.” “It might be possible, but it won’t be easy.” “I don’t understand.” “I know. I think I already know the answer to this, but do you believe in magical creatures?” “Like… witches and wizards, you mean? In stories.” “Actually I meant more like dragons and unicorns and…gargoyles.” “I believe in them as…archetypes,” she answered. “Symbols deeply embedded in our subconscious minds or maybe even the collective unconscious.” She shrugged ruefully. “Can you tell I was a Psych major in college?” He tried for a smile but suspected it wasn’t very convincing. “Actually I meant something more real and solid than archetypes. I mean actual dragons and gargoyles. Real, living creatures.” “I’ve never seen them and no one I know has either.” “Do you think you could bring yourself to believe in them? If you were confronted with one?” She hesitated a moment. “I don’t understand. Where is this going and what has it got to do with us?”

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He sighed in frustration. “I’m making a mess of this. The thing is, I don’t know how to tell you in any way that doesn’t sound like I’m completely crazy.” “Try just saying it.” He looked deep into her eyes, saw the confusion mixed with the love and trust there, and bathed himself in the warmth of it. “All right. I’m a gargoyle.” “You’re a…what?” She said it with almost no intonation, except a bit of rising confusion on the last word. “I’m a gargoyle. One of the gargoyles on the cathedral, in fact. That’s where I first saw you.” “Gargoyle.” The word was still so flat he wasn’t sure she even knew what it meant until she continued, “But they’re just stone statues on the tops of churches.” “Not just churches. Lots of buildings. And we’re more than just stone statues. We’re living creatures, though not quite like you. We have stone shells. And during these two weeks on either side of the winter solstice we can walk abroad as human if we choose.” “Only then? You can only be a man for a month?” “Unless… If you kiss me in my gargoyle form and say you love me, I can become fully human. Permanently.” She shook her head. “I can’t take this in. It’s unbelievable.” She drew a deep breath. “You’re kidding me. Right?” “No. I’m not.” “This sounds like some kind of fairy tale. The princess and the frog thing. Or is it Beauty and the Beast? I’m not sure. But I don’t understand why you’d need to play that kind of game.” “It’s not a game. It’s a fact. My true form is a gargoyle.” They walked in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. “Would you show me?” “Not yet. You’re not ready.” 45

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“It’s that shocking?” She was humoring him, but he heard the confusion and fear in her tone. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “You think I’m a bit off my rocker, don’t you?” “I don’t know what to think,” she said. “I love you, you know that. But this is…nothing like what I might have expected. It’s too weird. I don’t know what to tell you. You really believe you’re a gargoyle?” “I know I’m one.” He stopped and pulled her into his arms. He felt her shaking. “Are you cold?” “No. I’m…scared.” “Of me?” “Of what you’re saying. It’s too strange. If it’s true… No. It can’t be true. And if it’s not, I don’t know why you’re doing this. If it’s a joke, it’s a really sick one.” He looked down into her eyes, which were wide with distress and fear. It cut into his heart and he wished there was some way around the truth of what he was. “It’s not a joke. But it’s not something you have to worry about right now.” “No? You tell me you’re a gargoyle and I have to kiss you to make you human, but I don’t have to worry about it? It’s…like…what am I supposed to believe? What can I say?” A bit of anger crept into her words along with the distress. “I’ll kiss you. Fine.” She stretched up and planted her lips against his in a cold, furious kiss. “Did it make any difference?” He sighed and shook his head. “I told you I had to be in gargoyle form when you did it. Please, don’t say anything more right now. Just let it sink in for a bit.” He extended a hand to take hers. She didn’t pull away. They walked in silence again. The snow cut down on traffic and dampened other sound, making it feel like they were the only two people in the world. Gradually her shaking stopped and her breathing returned to a more normal rhythm.

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“Do you still want me to go with you to the Christmas party?” he asked. “Heck, do you want me to move my things out of your apartment and get lost?” She jerked, startled, and said a sharp, “No.” Her fingers wound tighter around his. But his stomach refused to unclench. He had a bad feeling that he might have left it too late to tell her. There might not be enough time for her to come to terms with something that shook up her entire understanding of the nature of reality. When they got back to her apartment that evening, a place he’d begun to think of as his home, too, he told her to go in the bedroom and strip. “Get a condom from the drawer and have it waiting and ready for me.” He undressed while he gave her a few minutes to comply with the order. Given what had gone on between them, he wondered if she’d still trust him enough to do it. He hesitated a moment before screwing up his nerve and walking into the room. She sat on the side of the bed, wearing nothing but the gold-plated choker he’d given her. She held the condom packet in her teeth. He took it from her and set it on the table next to her bed. He sat beside her, then rocked back and stretched out on her mattress. “Why does a single woman living alone have a double bed that takes up most of the space in the room? And one with tall posts at that?” he asked her. She twisted until she knelt beside him. “The triumph of hope over experience. The posts were just a triumph of hope. I’d about given up on it, too, before you.” An odd expression crossed her face, lingering only for a moment. Doubt and tremulous desire. He hated to see that uncertainty, even if she banished it quickly, striving for confidence in him. His heart lurched each time he looked at her. She was so lovely, so sweet and so wonderfully perfect for him. “Then consider me an answer to a prayer. You certainly are for me. Now, touch me everywhere, but only with your mouth and tongue. No hands.”

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A glance at her face told him that, for the moment, she’d set aside the dilemma of his nature. A wickedly delighted smile spread across her features before she set to work. Tricia didn’t do things halfway. Starting at his head, she kissed all over his face, using her lips and tongue in entrancing ways. She nibbled on his earlobes, brushed down his nose and plunged her tongue deep into his mouth. She nipped at his vulnerable throat until he thought he’d go crazy with it. The pressure in his already full cock built into painful need. Her tongue rasped down along his collarbone to his chest and from there to his nipples. She lapped them gently, then scraped over them with her teeth. White-hot bolts of electricity tore through him. He groaned his pleasure and held his breath. Right when he couldn’t bear it anymore, she moved down his abdomen, kissing and nipping as she went. She skipped past his cock and began stroking the insides of his thighs with her tongue. “God!” The word came out sounding suspiciously like a sob. At the first, tentative swipe over his balls, he let out a long, loud groan. Shards of unbearable pleasure ripped away all his control. He panted and struggled to keep from exploding when her mouth traveled up and did a long lick right up to the tip of his cock. “Oh my Lord, you have the world’s cleverest tongue,” he moaned. She met his eyes and the grin on her face rewarded him for every dollar he spent on her and every bit of effort he expended to please her. “I learned it from my Master.” He jerked and heaved in another breath when she took the entire tip of his cock in her mouth. “You’re so good it’s dangerous.” And that was true. He was in imminent danger of exploding from her efforts. Moments later he couldn’t stand it anymore. He rose and flipped her over onto her back. A hand pressed into her pussy came away slick with her moisture, so after grabbing the condom and sheathing himself, he plunged in, hard and fast.

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Their groans mingled as pressure built in both of them. To give her time, Eric kept a tight rein on himself, holding back his release until he felt the tremors start to rattle through her. It happened just in time. He couldn’t wait another moment. The pressure exploded and he jerked with spasms of orgasm. She bucked against him as she came, too, and it milked every bit of juice from him. He continued to pump as she spasmed. By the time she settled down, he felt as though every last particle of energy had been sucked out of him. He settled some of his weight on her carefully so that their bodies pressed together. She was his one, his completion, his refuge, his shelter, the only love he’d ever have. “This is why I bought the bed,” she whispered in his ear. “Good move,” he agreed. A little later, though, as they lay together and she drowsed, dread rolled through his mind again. Would there be a future for them? Could she accept what he was? He feared that instead of letting the possibility of his being truly a gargoyle sink in, she would simply brush it aside as some kind of strange fantasy he harbored.

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Chapter Four For the next couple of days their lives continued on normally except for the occasional worried frowns she cast his way. She didn’t bring up the issue of his being a gargoyle again. Their lovemaking took on a particular urgency for him as his concern grew. He put his concerns aside to concentrate on doing what pleased her. They spent the day on Saturday running errands together, even enjoying maneuvering through the bustling crowds and lines everywhere. His purchases included a new suit, and while she wasn’t looking, some additional gifts for her. Tricia did something special with her appearance for the company party. Somehow she managed to pile all her long brown hair in a mass of curls on top of her head in a way that looked both elegant and sophisticated. Combined with sparkly makeup and the dress, it gave her the appearance of a shining Christmas angel. He couldn’t believe some other man hadn’t already claimed her. The party was held in the ground-floor restaurant of the building that also housed her company’s headquarters. In the preliminary round of cocktails, she introduced him to a number of people whose names he couldn’t remember two minutes later. They ate and danced, laughed over inane skits and held hands while the corporate bigwigs handed out Christmas gifts. Afterward, the alcohol flowed freely and the dancing started again. “Would you like to go up and see my office?” Tricia asked him. Eric scanned the crowded room, now getting warmer and louder. “Sure.” An elevator whisked them silently up to the eighth floor. She unlocked a door with a key and then led the way down carpeted corridors to the tiny room that was her

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office. There were other people somewhere nearby, since he could hear the low hum of voices, but her hall was deserted. “Home, sweet office,” she said. “Okay, there really isn’t much to see. But this is where I spend large chunks of my time. Too large.” “It does seem a bit confining,” he agreed, studying the small space. “It might help to have a better memory of it. Does the door lock?” “Yes.” “Lock it. Then go sit on the edge of the desk. Hike the dress up so your bare bottom is on the blotter.” She did as he ordered. He moved closer and parted her legs. His fingers trailed slowly up her thighs to her pussy and found it already moist in anticipation. The fragrant perfume of her desire mingled with some other expensive scent she wore. Silken skin quivered under his attention. Fire erupted when his lips touched hers. The pressure in his groin made his pants painfully tight until he released the button and zipper and freed his cock. He took a condom from his pocket and hastily rolled it on, before pulling her forward until he could move into the vee of her legs. His cock pressed against her cunt. Her breath caught on a sharp gasp as he plunged in, while lifting her buttocks and tipping them to get the angle right. She wound her legs around him. Fingers clenched on his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his suit jacket. Heaven. She felt like heaven, soft and warm and tight around him. His woman. He moved in and out, gently at first, then harder and faster. Tricia moaned and her pussy clenched around him. It took an effort to keep from exploding too quickly, but he held on until he felt the tremors of orgasm begin to shake her. She squealed loudly, then let out her breath on a long, gasping moan. Eric jerked and loosed his jet of seed. For a few minutes they just leaned into each other, breathing heavily, as they recovered. This was heaven on earth. This was why he wanted desperately to be human. Eric wished he could stop time and make that moment last forever. Eventually 51

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he had to pull back, though. He used a handkerchief to clean her and himself, then lifted her down from the desk. “You might want to spill coffee on this first thing Monday,” he suggested, looking at the blotter.

***** Christmas morning dawned cold and clear with a smattering of snow on the ground from a storm the previous night. They started the day by going to mass at the cathedral. Knowing it was a risk, Eric pointed to the spire on the northeast side of the building. “That’s my shell,” he said, though she probably couldn’t see it that high up. She stared upward for a moment then gave him a look he couldn’t read. She didn’t say anything. After the service they went back to her apartment, had breakfast and exchanged gifts. He’d bought her a few more silk scarves and a knit one to wear with her coat, some satin underwear he could hardly wait to see her in, and a new coffeemaker to replace the creaking, elderly thing she currently used. The last gift he gave her was another choker with a smattering of diamonds and rubies meshed into its chain. When she saw the last one, the expressions that chased across her face, shock, followed by astonishment and then delight, made his heart tighten in his chest. “It’s gorgeous,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” “It’s just an ornament for the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” She admitted she’d found it difficult to think of anything he might need or want, but she gave him a bottle of a masculine fragrance that probably cost a significant percentage of her monthly salary, a leather wallet, some nice silky boxers and a heavy knit sweater in a shade of green. It touched him when he realized she’d noticed that his wardrobe hadn’t been gathered with warmth in mind. He put on the sweater right away and relished its coziness. 52

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He’d bought a ring for her, too, but he wasn’t ready to give it to her. She had to accept him in gargoyle form first. That afternoon they watched an old Christmas movie. When it was over, he asked her to turn off everything but the Christmas tree, light candles around the room, close the window blinds and put on soft music. After she’d done it, he told her to strip. Tricia removed everything but the choker and stood before him naked again. While she was doing that, he got one of the chairs from the kitchen and set it in the middle of the living room. “Sit,” he told her. “Part your legs so they’re on the sides, not at the front,” he said. When she’d done that, he took a pair of scarves and fastened her ankles to the legs of the chair. “Now. From now until I say you can, you’re not to make a sound. No words, no moans, nothing. Do you understand?” She nodded. “Good girl. Put your arms around the back and clasp your hands together and don’t let go. Again, if you let go without permission, I’ll punish you. Good. Push your breasts out. That’s good.” He walked to where he’d stowed his case and returned holding a quill pen that was a large feather with the end carved to a sharp point. Her eyes grew large as she studied the feather and wondered what he was going to do with it. He didn’t leave her in suspense long. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply when he brushed the feather lightly over and around her breasts. She opened her mouth to murmur when it first stroked over her nipple, but she remembered and made no sound. His cock swelled to such hardness it was painful and inhibiting as he continued to tease her with the feather. She jerked and drew in a sharp breath when he ran it along the insides of her thighs and then up to her pussy. The effort it took for her to remain silent and keep her hands clasped showed in the way her body shook and she kept her lips pressed sharply together. Jerky breaths followed each careful stroke along her flesh and she almost moaned when it brushed her clit. 53

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Finally he took mercy on her. “You can let go and talk to me now,” he said as he loosened the scarves on her ankles. “How did that feel?” “Amazing. Totally amazing.” The words weren’t entirely steady. He shed his pants in a hurry, pushing them down to his ankles. “Good.” He drew her up from the chair and sat down himself. “Bring a condom and put it on.” She did as he ordered. It took all his willpower to keep from exploding in her hand as her gentle fingers rolled the rubber down. “Now, sit.” She frowned until he moved her forward and lifted her so that she was impaled on his cock with her legs splayed on either side of his thighs. He leaned back as far as he could, put hands on her hips and began to move her up and down. It didn’t take long before his full, rigid cock spasmed in a huge, orgasmic jet while she shuddered and jerked around him. He held her tightly for a while, marveling at the way she could trust him in this and respond to his control. But twinges of guilt also rode through him. There wasn’t much time and she’d need some to adjust. He dreaded confronting her with his truth, but it had to be done. That evening, he’d do it and see what happened. Later, they collaborated on creating an elaborate dinner of turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, rolls, applesauce, cranberry sauce and a pumpkin pie for dessert. After the meal, as they lay together on the couch watching a variety show on television, he said, “We can’t put it off much longer. I won’t have much more time with you and I have to show you what I really am.” A brief flash of panic showed in her eyes before she nodded. “All right. Show me.” He drew a deep breath. “Remember, I’m a gargoyle. We’re not a pretty group. In fact, we’re supposed to be lovably homely. Okay?” “Lovably homely. I hope that’s close.”

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He waited a moment. “I can only stay human for another week and a half. If you want to have me around beyond then, you’ll have to kiss me and tell me you love me while I’m in the gargoyle form.” Her fingers knotted together in her lap. She nodded. “I’ll try.” He closed his eyes, knowing he couldn’t face her initial reaction. With a quick thought, he let his form revert to its true shape. “Oh, my—” Her sharp exclamation cut off abruptly. He opened his eyes in time to see her go very pale and collapse onto her side. He caught her before her head connected with the coffee table and eased her back on the sofa.

***** At first Tricia was only aware of something cool sliding down her cheek. She lay on the couch in her own living room. Memory returned slowly, almost reluctantly. It made her try to sit up abruptly. A hand held her down. “Don’t. It’s all right. Give yourself a moment.” Eric’s voice. She turned to look at him. He was the man she’d known, complete with handsome face, russet hair, green eyes and a few light freckles. The other… “Was it real? That was really you? How did you do that?” “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Don’t think about it for now.” “But that wasn’t a trick? It really was you? That was your true form?” “I told you I was a gargoyle,” he said softly. It sounded like an apology. “I don’t think I believed it. I’m not sure I believe it yet.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position. He took her hand. “It’s pretty shocking, isn’t it?” She nodded. “It’s me, though. I’m still the same person under the…ugly exterior. But I won’t have much longer with you if you can’t do what I told you.”

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“If you… If you can stay here beyond your time, will it be in the same form? This same body?” He shrugged. “I can’t tell you that. No, really, I don’t know. It may not be the same form as this.” He looked down at his chest and legs. She lowered her head and ran her fingers into her hair. “God, I knew you were too good to be true. There had to be some catch.” “Tricia!” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his eyes. “It’s still me. No matter what the form.” “I know. And I really hope I’m not so shallow that the form matters all that much. It’s just… I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’m just not sure I can believe it and that makes it so much harder…” Thoughts chased themselves around in her head so quickly she couldn’t catch them and couldn’t sort them out. He leaned forward and kissed her softly. “Don’t think about it for now. We still have some time.” “I love you, Eric. You know that, don’t you? And I want you with me. Forever. Or for as long as… Well, forever. But I don’t know how to cope with this. I’ve never been the kind of person who believed in ghosts or witches or any of that other woo-woo stuff. I’m a realist.” “And I’ve turned your world and everything you believed upside down.” “Yeah, sort of. Unless it was a trick… Somebody’s idea of a joke?” “No.” He brushed a hand through her hair, in a gesture more comforting than arousing. He moved so that he sat beside her on the couch, and pulled her into his arms. “Try not to think about it for now. There’s still time.” They lay together in silence for a while, until Tricia stirred, realizing she was exhausted. At her suggestion, they went to bed. They cuddled together but didn’t make love again.

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Sleep didn’t come easily that night. She lay for a long time thinking about what she’d seen and what he’d told her. It had to be some kind of trick or illusion, didn’t it? But how could he have done it? And why? It couldn’t be real… Gargoyles were stone creatures made by sculptors, not living, breathing beings. She’d never heard of a living gargoyle and never read about it in any book. That thing she’d seen in the living room, though…what was it? He felt her shift restlessly and turned her to face him. In the faint light coming in the window she could just see his face, his beloved, handsome face, and the loving look in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, kissing and cuddling her until she finally relaxed and dozed off.

***** They hit the after-Christmas sales the next day and didn’t talk about his being a gargoyle. He gave her another pair of wrapped boxes when they got home. “After-Christmas presents,” he explained. She sucked in a sharp breath as she opened the larger, long narrow box. It contained a whip—a handle with a dozen leather tails, each about a foot and a half long, hanging from it. “It’s a flogger,” he said. “Not too harsh. I think you’ll like the way it feels.” Tricia hoped so. It looked a bit scary, and yet she’d read about them and envied those who got to feel the effect. She let the tails dribble over her hand and enjoyed the way they slid sensuously on her skin. The second box contained a pair of clamps connected by a chain with a set of fobs that could be clipped over the chain. “Nipple clamps,” he explained. “I didn’t want to give them to you until we were ready to use them.”

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She sucked in a harsh breath, trying to imagine what those would feel like on her breasts. Fortunately she didn’t have to wait long. “Into the bedroom,” he ordered. “And undress for me.” Fear, not vicious, but just enough to tighten every muscle in her body, sent an arrow of heat straight into her cunt. Her panties were damp by the time she removed them. He came in, gloriously naked and carrying the flogger, the nipple clamps and a bunch of scarves. He set it all down except for one scarf and came to her. “Will you trust me?” he asked. “Completely? Trust me to hurt you just a little, just enough to be exciting, but not too much?” She nodded because she couldn’t speak, but she stared into his green eyes. The love and pride and desire she saw there dazzled her. He was such a gorgeous man, with his handsome face and damned near perfect body. Even more, though, he was the warmest, strongest, most dominant and loving person she’d ever met. Too good to be true, yet he was here with her. If it only cost her a kiss for an ugly creature to keep him, she’d find a way to do it. And yet, she couldn’t help wondering— No. He wasn’t crazy or delusional. He was…eccentric. She could deal with eccentric. “I’m going to blindfold you,” he warned, and then he tied the scarf he held around her head so that it covered her eyes. “If anything I do is too much for you and you want it to stop, just say ‘I give’ and I’ll stop. I promise you that. You understand?” She nodded, already feeling helpless and at his mercy with her sight restricted. “Good. You’re going to be my slave now, and you’re sadly in want of training.” He led her a few steps until she felt the rail at the foot of her bed against her abdomen. Her wrists were bound by scarves and then fastened high up on the posts of the bed. He did the same with her ankles, leaving her spread for him.

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She heard his footsteps and then the bed creaked. When he kissed her lips, she realized he knelt on the bed in front of her. His mouth on hers stoked the fire in her cunt. With the blindfold eliminating any sight, the sensations when he touched her were heightened. His lips closed over her nipple and heat ran through her body in rivers. His teeth grazed over one nipple, then the other. He bit down, slowly increasing the pressure until pain mixed with the pleasure, and repeated the process on the other breast. The fiery ache had her wriggling madly and almost buzzing with the thrill of it. His mouth moved away, to be replaced at her breast by one of the clamps. He maneuvered it into place around her nipple and let it spring closed on the bud. Shards of dazzling pleasure-pain ripped through her as it bit harshly. She moaned loudly, and he waited a moment before he moved again. The second clamp closed on her other nipple with equally jarring, exciting results. Her nipples burned but it was a welcome fire. It ran straight to her cunt and lit an explosive powder keg of need. She heard him shift again. The few seconds of silence that followed had an ominous feel. The swish of something moving rapidly through the air broke it. The tails of the flogger landed on her bottom with a faint crack. It stung, just a little, for just a moment, replaced quickly by a vibrant, prickly heat. Another splat on her bottom followed and then another, each stroke a little harder, each packing a bit more sting. They lit a fire that moved through her in the most arousing way. He stopped for a moment, letting the leather tails brushed over the same skin in a lingering caress. He trailed them down along the backs of her thighs, back up the inside of one thigh and down the other. It stopped. The room grew so still the only sound was her panting breath. The tails swished through the air again and landed in a fan on the inside of her left thigh. She squealed with surprise at the placement and the sting, but once again, the

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pain quickly shifted to a maddeningly arousing heat. While she still wiggled from the effects of it, the lashes landed on her other thigh. After a moment, it smacked on her bottom again. Three or four more times the flogger’s tails struck, leaving multiple small ribbons of fire across her bottom. It stung. It burned. It was purely delicious. Knowing that Eric’s hand wielded that whip made it even more arousing. She blazed with need from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. He delivered a few more lashes before he stopped and came to stand right behind her. His fingers rasped over the roughened skin of her bottom and it stoked the fire inside her even higher. “Eric,” she pleaded. “Master, please, take me. I can’t wait much longer.” “I’ll decide what you can and can’t wait for. That will earn you half a dozen more.” Thrills chased themselves through her gut and along her spine. He knew so perfectly what she needed. The next few blows of the flogger grew harder yet and the sting turned into a bit of real pain. A wonderful, delicious pain that turned into unbearable pleasure and tension in her pussy. The last blow snapped so sharply against her bottom it drew a loud squeal from her. Then he was behind her again. “Have you learned your lesson, slave?” His voice blended just the right levels of harshness and concern. “Yes, Master.” She made her words humble and submissive. “Good.” He released her ankles and wrists but left the blindfold in place. She swayed as she backed up, driven to such heights of sensation it made her dizzy. Strong arms caught and lifted her. Her breasts crushed against his chest. It roused the dormant ache in her nipples from the clamps.

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He set her down on the bed. She screamed when he flicked the clamps off each nipple. That was the worst pain yet. But like the others it licked through her and into her cunt where it ratcheted up the pressure even more. She began to shake with the tremors of an impending orgasm. His tongue licked over the aching nipples to soothe them. It drove her almost to madness and she began to spiral out of control. “Don’t you dare come yet,” he said. “Not until I give you permission.” “I’ll…try.” The effort to talk was almost beyond her. Holding back the orgasm took everything she had. The pressure felt ready to explode. “You’ll hold on until I say you can.” He moved on top of her. She almost lost it again when his cock slid along her pussy to probe at the opening. Sobbing and struggling to restrain the floodtide of release, she accepted him into her, holding his cock tightly. He muttered and shook as she wrapped her arms around him. He was as close to the edge as she. Still, he pushed himself in with maddening deliberation, inch by slow inch. She wanted to beg him to let her come, but she knew better. He was the Master. He’d give permission when he was ready. She tightened even more around him. If he didn’t give her leave soon, she’d— “Now, slave,” he said. “You can come now.” To drive home the point, he pulled out and pushed back in, hard. That was all it took. She tipped over the edge, letting the spasms she’d been fighting pour over her, around her and through her until they carried her away into the utmost ecstasy. Her body jerked hard, jolting against him repeatedly as wave after wave slammed into and through her. It went on for some time before starting to wane.

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Pleasure was a sea she drowned in, only she wasn’t drowning, but floating in it— content, peaceful, perfectly happy. Waves still periodically lifted her into a superb intensity of pleasure and then let her drift gently down again. She came back to herself when he slipped the blindfolding scarf from her face. His green eyes watched her with a stunning intensity of love. It filled her heart almost to bursting. When the tears started, his expression grew concerned and frightened. “What is it?” he asked. “Was it too much? Did I hurt you too much? I didn’t mean to, I just wanted—” She put a finger across his lips to stop him. “It wasn’t too much. If anything I could have taken quite a bit more, but not yet. It’s just… This is all amazing, unbelievable, miraculous, unreal. I’m just overwhelmed. I love you so much and it’s happened so quickly and so completely.” Her voice broke a couple of times during that silly speech so it was hard to add, “I’m so afraid it’s all just a dream that will end and leave me…” “It’s not a dream. It’s real.” “But you say it will end.” “Unless you can—” “I know. But I don’t know if I can.” She had a thought. “Can you order me to do it? As my Master?” His smile was rueful and sad. The grooves that ran down his cheeks had a wry, almost painful curve. “I’m sorry, love, but no. You have to be willing and able to say the words on your own and give the kiss purely of your own free will. No one can demand or force it.” “It would be much easier if you just said I had to.” “Possibly. But I can’t do that.” His expression changed. “But you don’t mind if I use the flogger and the nipple clamps again?” “No. In fact, I may have to insist on it.”

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“Bad submissive,” he chided. “If I weren’t so exhausted I might have to punish you for that. Maybe tomorrow.” “Promise?” “Promise.”

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Chapter Five She loved him. She just didn’t know what to make of him, what to believe or trust. Everything she knew about him said he was a wonderful man, strong, intelligent, honorable, generous, caring and the perfect Master for her. She’d seen him be kind and courteous to others, had argued politics and strategies for social change with him, and given him everything of herself. In return, he’d given her love of a sort she’d never thought to find. He was a perfect Master and a thoughtful lover. All he asked was that she buy into his eccentric belief that he was really a gargoyle. She could do that. She didn’t know how he created the illusion of changing into a gargoyle, but if he wanted her to kiss him in some weird costume, she’d manage to do it. She had the vacation time, so she took the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day off. They went to museums Tricia had meant to visit ever since she’d moved to the city but never seemed to have time for. They took long walks through the main city park and went sledding when it snowed enough to cover the ground. He treated her to gourmet coffees and pastries at marvelous little bakeries, meals at some very nice restaurants, movies, a play she’d been wanting to see and a concert. It made for a magical, whirlwind courtship. Her worries over his true identity occasionally disappeared, sometimes for hours. When they made love it was just as magical, in all the varieties and flavors she’d ever wanted to try. He bought another, slightly heavier flogger and teased her with it until she cried for mercy.

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They celebrated New Year’s Eve at one of the fanciest hotels in the city, which provided food, drink, music and entertainment, plus games and dancing for most of the night. They slept until early afternoon the next day. When they took down the Christmas decorations and put them away, Tricia felt as though she was somehow packing up a piece of her heart along with them. It had been a magical Christmas season, but she feared the magic was about to die. A great weight rested over her head and would come crashing down all too soon. A fine tension that grew in him as the days went by told her he felt it, too. She didn’t know what to do. At work, she had trouble concentrating. Attempts to ask coworkers whether they believed in ghosts, vampires and gargoyles garnered her some very strange looks, suggestions that she might need another vacation and one very long story about someone’s grandmother who’d seen a ghost in her basement. Several explained to her that gargoyles were the stone statues of ugly creatures that sat on the corners of buildings. Four days after the first of the new year, he warned her that their time ran out tomorrow. “Show me again,” she said. “Maybe if I can get used to it, I’ll be able to handle it.” He looked dubious, but nodded. “Sit down.” No doubt he worried about the possibility she would faint again. She wouldn’t. She braced herself, digging her fingers into the upholstery fabric, and focused her attention on him. Something like a fog or cloud surrounded his form for a few seconds, then it gradually cleared off, leaving—a gargoyle. Pretty much the way she remembered from the brief view before she’d fainted the last time. The straight, masculine form had transformed into a short, humpbacked creature with round belly, stubby arms and legs and bat-like wings. The face… It wasn’t cutehomely or lovably homely. It was hideous. The mouth was part of a long snout, with a few sharp teeth showing. Heavy dark brows topped deep-set, narrow eyes. Enormous 65

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ears with strange ribs of cartilage radiating from the center stuck way out from either side of the head like another set of wings. The eyes were green and something lived in them, but she wasn’t at all sure it was Eric. Her Eric. How could it be him? She drew in a deep breath and tried to force herself to move, to get up, to leave the solid, real comfort of the couch. It didn’t happen. Try as she would to make her feet move or her butt push up from the sofa, her body refused to respond. Awe, incomprehension, disbelief and terror kept her glued in place. She opened her mouth to speak, but even that didn’t work. The creature stared at her, waiting. It even raised its arm, crooking a stubby, clawed finger at her. She couldn’t move. She was frozen to the spot and hated herself for it, even as she realized the depth of fear and disbelief holding her. No matter how badly she wanted to break through it, she couldn’t. Then the cloud reappeared, shrouding the creature in its haze. When it cleared, Eric stood before her. Tricia broke down in tears. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it,” she sobbed. “It is me, you know,” he promised her. “I know. At least I think I do. I still don’t understand this at all.” “We’ll try it again tomorrow.”

***** She wouldn’t be able to do it. He didn’t know if disgust or fear or just sheer disbelief paralyzed her, but one or some combination kept her from dealing with the reality of him. Maybe if they had more time, if he could slowly accustom her to the idea, she’d eventually come to accept it. She loved him and she wanted to do it, she just needed time to get over the shock. He hated that she’d feel guilty about failing him, when in truth it was more his fault for not telling her sooner and giving her more time to adjust to it. 66

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Before she left for work the next morning, they tried it again. He had to wait for several long, agonizing moments in his gargoyle form while she stared at him with that stricken expression. Her mouth opened and her throat worked but no words came from it. Muscles bunched all along her body as the battle raged inside her and she tried to force herself to approach. She got up and took a few steps toward him. His heart clenched in painful hope when she extended a hand. Fingers touched the tip of his ear and moved inward. Then drew back sharply. She sucked in a harsh breath and retreated a step. “I want to.” She sounded almost as agonized as he felt. “I want to. But I can’t.” She collapsed onto the nearest chair, sobbing. He changed back to his human form and helped her up, then pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right.” Tears continued to fall down her cheeks even as he kissed her and tried to calm her. “We’ll try again later.” Once she’d calmed somewhat, he sent her off to get ready for work.

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Chapter Six Tricia couldn’t settle down to concentrate. Her stomach roiled, her head ached and her eyes watered almost continuously. By three o’clock she gave it up and left, telling people she wasn’t feeling well. Her boss took a good look at her and told her to go home and rest. Today was their last day. She couldn’t believe she’d failed him that morning. She’d been so sure she could do it then. But they had one last chance. She would do it. She had to. She had to. He wasn’t waiting for her at the cathedral, but of course she was early. He wasn’t at the apartment either. That didn’t raise any internal alarms until she found the note he’d left.

My Very Dear Tricia,

Our time has come to an end sooner than I wanted. I truly thought and hoped we’d have one more chance, but it appears I miscalculated the time left. I can no longer hold my human form, so I’ve returned to my true shape and place. The price I pay for having walked as a human these weeks is that I’m tied to my stone shell and cannot leave it until next year’s winter solstice approaches. I won’t be able to come to you, even in darkness, in my gargoyle form. The price is small for the joy and happiness I’ve had with you and I pay it gladly. We will have another chance next year. If you truly love me, keep all my things, wait for me and I’ll return to you as the next winter solstice approaches. In the meantime, know that I love you.

Yours forever, 68

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Eric

Tricia reread the note several times before the tears gathered so thickly she could no longer make out the words. “No!” She pounded a fist on the kitchen countertop. “You can’t do this. Just when I was starting to believe. I won’t accept it. It’s not fair.” It was all her fault. She’d thought all along he was too good to be true. He wasn’t. He was just too good for her. She’d failed him when he needed her, because she couldn’t overcome her fear and her disbelief. She wouldn’t fail him again. And she wouldn’t leave him imprisoned in a stone shell for an entire year, either. He deserved better than that. It was her fault he had to return to that form; she wouldn’t leave him to suffer the consequences alone. Doing something about it wasn’t going to be easy. Even figuring out what she could do would involve some work. It took several weeks of research on the Internet and in the public library to find the answers she needed, plus a crash course in rock climbing and rappelling. She couldn’t tell anyone why she needed the information and training. Every day of delay chafed, though she filled the time with reading about the history and mythology of gargoyles, when she wasn’t practicing techniques for scaling stone façades. Her muscles ached every night from the grueling time she put in at a practice wall. It helped her sleep where her distress might otherwise have kept her awake. By the time she’d gathered the knowledge and supplies, it was near the end of January. She planned carefully for the day she’d make the attempt, expecting she’d get only one shot at it. Mercifully the weather was clear and unseasonably warm for the time of year.

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It took a couple of tours of the cathedral to sneak in all the gear she’d need and hide it in an out-of-the-way cranny in one of the small chapels. On her final tour, she slipped away and secreted herself beneath a side altar, waiting there until late in the evening, when everyone else had left. At eight, she began climbing the stairs to the bell tower, since she didn’t dare risk the elevator. She had to stop to rest more than once. Eventually she made it to the loft, crossed immediately to a window and looked down. Dizziness set in as she noted how far below the ground was. Ignore that. Concentrate on what you have to do. She began arranging her equipment, donning the harness and securing the clamps, blanking her mind to the enormity of the task she undertook. Climbing out the window was undoubtedly the hardest thing she’d ever forced herself to do. After that, kissing a gargoyle should be child’s play. Taking the first step down the outside face of the building was the second hardest. She clung to the rope, repeatedly checking the fasteners on the vest and belt, and sweated each move. The darkness made it even worse since she couldn’t be sure exactly where she set her feet and how secure it was. Periodic bouts of nausea roiled her stomach when she thought too much about what she was doing. She had to force back the bile that threatened and concentrate only the series of small tasks it took to accomplish the bigger one. Ten feet, twenty feet down. It felt like hours. Then her foot slipped and slid off its toehold. The rope clamped to her harness held, but she swung free in the air and couldn’t get another grasp on the face of the cathedral. Panic set in and had her breathing hard, almost sobbing, as she scratched at the stone façade, trying to find purchase. Suddenly, something was supporting her weight, steadying her, and a voice spoke in her ear. “Calm, lady. We won’t let you fall. We know why you’re here. If you’ll trust us, we’ll take you to him.” 70

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It took a moment to get enough breath hauled back into her lungs to speak. “You’re…gargoyles?” she asked. She could just barely make out the shape of the one beside her in the darkness. “His brothers,” the gargoyle confirmed. Still supporting her, they let her down slowly so she could play out the rope as they went. Moments later, they deposited her on a narrow ledge beside the stone shape of the gargoyle that was Eric. The others disappeared into the darkness. For a moment she just stood there confronting the reality of the creature. He’d told her the stone was just a shell but it was all she could see. Tricia inched forward the three steps she needed to wind her arms around the ugly figure’s neck and rest her head on it. She kissed it and said, “I love you.” Nothing happened. Disbelieving, she tapped on the stone and repeated, “I love you.” She kissed it again. The hard figure sat there, still, unmoving, unresponsive. Her heart tightened into a painful knot. Had this really been some kind of cruel joke, after all? It couldn’t be. She wanted him so badly. All the trouble she’d taken to get here…wasted? She fought the tears, knowing they’d make it all the more difficult for her to get back up, but she lost the battle. The salty stream ran down her face and landed on the gargoyle’s head. A strange sound, a sort of fizzing noise, came from the stone. Moments later, a misty fog, barely visible in the darkness, rose from it, circled once, twice, collected into an elongated oval and settled nearby. Then he was there. The gargoyle she recognized as Eric stood next to her on the ledge. She didn’t hesitate this time. Throwing her arms around him, she plastered herself to his body and kissed both eyebrows, each huge ear and the toothy snout. “I love you,” she proclaimed, sniffing. “I don’t care what shape you’re in. I want you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

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The gargoyle dissolved, became whirling fog again and then reformed into the beloved shape of the Eric she knew. He was totally naked and looked confused. She held on to him to keep him from toppling off the building. Getting them both back up the rope and into the bell tower again was going to be a challenge. “Release your harness.” She jumped when the voice spoke behind her. “If you’ll trust us, we’ll take you both to your home.” “The equipment? I don’t need it, but I don’t want to leave it there, either.” “We’ll take care of it.” Eric had begun to shiver. It might be unseasonably warm, but that season was still winter and he hadn’t a shred of protection against a chilly breeze. “Yes, please,” she said. She hesitated only a moment before releasing the harness. She’d learned too well the price of disbelief. The gargoyles lifted each of them carefully and whisked them off to her apartment. A cold breeze blew past her as they flew, making her shiver. She didn’t dare take more than a glance at the creature supporting her. A shadowy shape was all she could make out in the darkness, anyway. They traveled rapidly, well above the tops of the buildings, and within moments, Eric’s brothers set them down right outside the door to the building. Tricia took off her coat and draped it over Eric’s shoulders. It barely fit around him. She turned to thank the gargoyles and found them already gone. She led Eric inside and got him dressed in clothes he’d left, then fixed hot cocoa for each of them. His hand shook so much at first she had to hold the cup with him to steady it. Once some of the hot liquid got inside him, though, the trembling calmed. Awareness and vitality finally began to return to him as he continued to drink. His green eyes focused on her for a moment and then looked around. Joy spread over his face. “You did it.” She nodded. “A bit late. I’m sorry about that.”

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His smile reassured her that he was still the Eric she’d come to know and love. “I’ll have to think of a fitting punishment. Tell me how you did it.” She recounted her adventure in climbing down the side of the cathedral. By the time she finished, he looked horrified. “You took an incredible risk, and an unnecessary one. I told you in the note that I’d be free again by next year.” “I couldn’t leave you imprisoned in that stone for an entire year,” she answered. “It wasn’t fair to you. And I wanted you too much to wait.” “Don’t you ever take a risk like that again. And that’s an order. There will definitely have to be some punishment for that.” He set aside the empty cup. “In the meantime, I’m still a bit chilly. Come here and warm me up.” “I have a better idea. Come to bed with me and we’ll both get warmer.” The clock said it was two in the morning by then. She wanted to make love to him but was too exhausted. Moments after they settled under the covers and cuddled together she fell asleep. She roused to the sensation of a large hand stroking her hair. When she opened her eyes, she looked straight into Eric’s green ones. The smile on his face made her heart twist and squeeze with love. “It is real,” he said, brushing fingers along her cheeks. “I wondered if I was dreaming.” She kissed him and moved against him. Feeling his cock rise, she reached down to circle it with her hand. “How real does this feel?” His face screwed into a tense frown of pleasure. “Unbelievably real.” The words came out on a pant. His fingers found her breasts and began to stroke and tease them. It didn’t take much to set her ablaze. When he stroked across her pussy, she was already damp and ready for him.

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“Come in, please,” she begged. “Now.” She wanted more than anything in the world to feel his body against her, in her, to wrap her arms around the solid bulk of him. He turned to look at the table. “I don’t know where…” “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Come to me.” “If you’re sure.” Then he was atop her and his penis was pushing inside. The familiar pressure grew as his cock hit those places inside that jolted her. She gloried in it. The emotional charge of the previous day added its own level of joy and relief. “Tricia.” He repeated her name as he pounded in and pulled out. “You’re…my miracle.” It didn’t take long before the tremors of release shook them both at almost the exact same moment. Their cries mingled as bodies jerked and spasmed. They lay together for a long time afterward, arms wrapped around each other, reveling in the feel of their joined bodies, the unique closeness, the special connection they shared. Eventually Eric stirred. “Do you have to go to work today?” “It’s Saturday. And even if it weren’t, I wouldn’t go. I just rescued my lover from prison and it took something out of me. I think that rates a day off at least.” “At least,” he agreed and kissed her. “I think it rates—” His stomach rumbled loudly and hers answered in kind, making them both break down in laughter. “I’d love to stay here all day and do nothing but make love to you, but this human body I finally own has other needs as well.” They got up and made a late breakfast, which served as lunch also since it was nearly noon by then. Afterward they began making plans for the future. “I’d like to get married in the cathedral,” he said. “Would that bother you?”

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“No. In fact, I’d have suggested it if you hadn’t. I suppose I’ll have to start taking some lessons in your faith.” “I don’t know. We’ll have to find out. I suppose there’s quite a bit of paperwork we’ll have to do.” “Speaking of that…Do you know about birth certificates and driver’s licenses and all that stuff? You’re going to need them.” “I have a birth certificate,” he said. “My birthday is April 14 and I’ll be twenty-nine on the next one. I also have a social security card. I don’t have a driver’s license. I’ll have to see about getting one. I guess that means I’ll have to get a car and learn how to drive it. It looks like fun.” He grinned at her surprised expression. “We gargoyles have ways to get things done.” “What about…money? Cars aren’t exactly cheap and while I do okay at my job, I’m still paying off some college loans and I don’t have a lot to spare. On the other hand, you seem to have plenty of it. Do you guys just make your own?” “We make money, but not in the sense of printing it ourselves. We do leave our shells at night, you know, unless we’ve elected to walk as human. We sometimes take night jobs just for the fun of it since we don’t actually need anything we can buy. Over the years I’ve taken on all sorts of things. I began investing the money and it turns out I have a knack for it. Remember I told you I was a financial analyst? That’s actually true, even if I’m not really from Seattle. The last however many years, though, I’ve spent a lot of time helping my brothers manage the money they’ve accumulated. Most of it’s been invested in the stock market, but we’ve put some in bonds, real estate trusts and other things. Keep in mind that we’ve been doing this for a long time. I’ve built up a pretty nice portfolio. We could live on the interest from my investments, but I’d rather not. Now that I’m human, I haven’t decided whether I’ll try to get a job or go freelance as a financial advisor. I could probably earn enough on commissions just managing my brothers’ money. I expect to be supporting a wife and family, and…”

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She watched the wave of pure, exultant joy spread across his features before he pulled her into his arms again. “There’s still the matter of your punishment for taking so long to make me human and for taking such ridiculous risks with yourself.” She nodded and looked at him. “I’m sorry for taking so long. I don’t know what was wrong with me that I couldn’t do it sooner.” He watched her with a steady, loving gaze. “You were still in shock. You’re not sorry for taking the risk of climbing the cathedral? Here’s the deal. I’m going to punish you for both. No safe words and no stopping once it’s started until I say it’s over. And once it’s over it’s done. Any failures on your part are wiped away and we don’t mention them, ever again. If you agree?” Dread and excitement mingled, twisting her stomach into a hard knot. “I agree.” “Good. Go to the bedroom and strip. Wait for me there.” She did as he ordered. As she sat on the bed in the nude, she shivered with a combination of apprehension and expectation. She’d wanted this for so long. She still could barely believe it was true and she was getting everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Talk about your Christmas miracles! The door opened and Eric came in. Gorgeously, gloriously nude himself, he carried only a heavy leather belt. Another tremor shook her at the sight of it. He set it down on the bed. Pulling her to her feet, he took her in his arms. Perhaps he saw her apprehension. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You don’t have to.” “Yes, I do. And I want to, too. It’s just…a bit scary.” “But you trust me to take care of you?” “Yes. Completely.”

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His smile, the dimples, the glow in his green eyes, and the tenderness of the gentle fingers he stroked along her cheek made her heart do flip-flops in her chest. “Good enough.” The smile faded, replaced with a sterner, even harsh expression as he released her and sat down on the bed. “Over my lap,” he ordered. She positioned herself as directed. He scooted back far enough that she was actually lying on the bed with her bottom lifted over his thighs. “Remember, this stops only when I decide you’ve had enough. Not before.” She nodded. The first slap of his hand landed on her bottom with a resounding crack. It stung but not unbearably. The next was a little harder. For the first dozen or so spanks she managed to stay still, accepting his mastery and his punishment. But it kept going, the smacking taking on an easy rhythm that printed another band of heat on her bottom every few seconds. After a while it began to burn smartly enough that she gasped a bit with the harder strokes. He kept going even as the individual stings began to merge into an overall burn that seared her bottom. She wriggled and moaned. The hard shaft of his cock poked into her tummy, making her want to shift until it was against her cunt. The spanking had roused so much heat, her juices were running down her leg and making a slick spot on his thighs. The spanking began to cause her real pain, a sting that barely abated at all before the next smack added another lick of heat to the fire. She moaned almost continuously and yelped when his hand landed on a particularly tender area. He covered both cheeks from near the top to the tops of her thighs, then moved down farther, spanking the backs of her legs as well. Those finally drew squeals and even the occasional yell. The fire spread throughout her body. Each spank made it blaze higher and brighter and more painfully. Each one sent a river of heat and longing into her pussy. She

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wanted to beg him to stop, to tell him she couldn’t bear it, but she also wanted to be brave to please him. Finally he stopped pounding on her bottom and she drew a deep breath of relief. Now maybe— But he picked up the belt from where he’d left it on the bed. She heard the swish as the leather flew through the air and then a loud crack as it hit her bottom. For a moment there was just a crashing shock, a sort of numbness, and then a ribbon of fire seared both cheeks of her buttocks. She screamed and writhed in his hold. The second stroke of the belt was even worse, a burning pain hotter than she could have imagined bearing. But even that fire became a raw prickly heat that swelled her pussy further and built the pressure of need. The third crash of the belt drew a protracted yell from her. “Stop, please,” she begged. “I can’t bear it. Please, Eric, no more.” He paused. “I said this would stop when I decided, didn’t I?” She drew a deep breath. “Yes. Sir.” “Good. Three more. You can do this. For me?” “Yes, Sir,” she repeated. But she wondered if she could when the belt licked low across her bottom, right at the sensitive spot where it met her thighs. Her body arched into a taut bow before collapsing and rolling from side to side against his thighs. Tears started as she wound her fingers into the bed sheets. The last two were just as hard, if not more so, and she was sobbing hard by the time he finished. After the last one, he tossed the belt aside. The buckle clattered against the floor.

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He shifted her until she sat on his lap with the prickly hairs of his thighs against her sore bottom. His head dipped and he kissed the tears from her cheeks. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Yes, but I’m so hot and ready for you if you don’t get your cock inside me in the next ten seconds, I won’t be responsible for the results.” He laughed and moved her onto the bed, then climbed over her and drove in, hard, deep and fast. It pounded her sore bottom into the sheets, which only made the pressure rise. She moaned almost continuously as he plunged and retreated. A volcano of need had grown inside her, stoked by the spanking to near explosive levels. His cock pressed the release trigger and it suddenly erupted in a startling, roaring, jarring, joyous explosion. Dimly she heard him groan the long, moaning accompaniment to his own orgasm. The spasms kept rolling over her, one jerking thrill after another. It went on and on until she finally collapsed in the peace of complete and total exhaustion. She clung to the man who’d brought her heaven on earth. “You’re my very own miracle,” she said. “And you’re mine. I never would have guessed it possible. I never realized how amazing it could be to be a human being.” “It isn’t all fun and games,” she admitted. “Sometimes it’s work and suffering and illness and disappointment. But the good times make it all worth it.” “This would make any amount of suffering and pain worth it.” He shifted inside her and another thought intruded. “Eric, can gargoyles father children? We’ve just had unprotected sex twice.” “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But men can, and I’m a man now, just as human as you are. I imagine I can.” His green eyes glowed as he studied her face. “I’m hoping so. We’re getting married as soon as we can arrange it anyway. It’s hard to imagine

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anything more wonderful than this, but seeing you with my child growing inside might just be it.” On that thought, the stirring inside her roused again. The loving was slower and longer and sweeter this time but just as satisfying. After it was over they dozed together for a while. Tricia held him tightly, giving thanks repeatedly for the miracle she’d been granted.

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About the Author Katherine Kingston welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.

Also by Katherine Kingston Binding Passion Daring Passion Equinox anthology Glimmer Quest: Bronzequest Glimmer Quest: Silverquest Healing Passion Holiday Heat anthology Pleasure Raiders anthology Ruling Passion

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