Read Malakai for Free Online Page B

muttered, then slammed the
pitcher onto the counter with a clank.
    His father's angry warning vied with his
conscience—and won. "Nope. Done with her. Off limits. Nada.
Non."
    Maybe.
    Dashing up the stairs, he padded into the
shower, and blasted the hot water over his body and dipped his head
into the stream. Groaning at the pleasure of it, Kai spent the next
twenty minutes thinking about sex with Rissa. Her body slicking
against his skin, her lips moving over his muscles and his
cock.
    Her pretty violet eyes winked at him and her
giggle made his erection even harder. Reaching down, he
commandeered the main blade. A squeeze and he imagined it was
Rissa's hand, her hair wisping about it as she breathed hotly upon
him. His hand moved faster. Rissa's hips shifted and swayed above
him. He anticipated her sweet, hot folds encompassing him and could
feel it…the heat of her, the soft squeezing goodness as he lost
himself inside his unattainable muse.
    ***
    It hadn't been easy locating the faery's
home. Werewolves had a crazy sense of smell, so Kai drove through
the small suburban town that edged the Twin Cities with his windows
down and his senses dialed up to eleven. Only took half an hour of
cruising to pinpoint her little white house, fronted by a froth of
white and maroon peonies.
    He knocked and Rissa answered immediately.
Blessed Luna, she wore pink. The barely-there dress hugged her body
and emphasized her tiny breasts and smooth stomach and the vee at
the junction of her legs. And she wore barely-there pink sandals
sporting a jewel between her biggest and next toe. He'd not before
noticed how cute and tantalizing those precious little toes
were…
    Malakai almost lost it looking at her. Right
there. Shot the wad in his pants. But he held it together, and
offered her the bouquet of pink roses he'd picked up in the flower
shop half a block away.
    Rissa took them, sniffed, and tilted the
bouquet against one shoulder, granting him a come-on kittenish
snarl. "So…you want me to coo over the flowers, and beg you to fuck
me?"
    Now he did groan, and eased a hand over his
erection because it strained against his loose jeans—which were no
longer loose.
    "Thought so." She winked and set the flowers
on the counter, not bothering to free them from the ribbon binding
or find a vase with water to preserve them. "Come inside, big boy.
No kilt?” she commented on his blue jeans and thin sweater as he
followed her through the living room and down the hallway.
    She aimed for the bedroom.
    “I only play the warrior on weekends," Kai
said. "This weekend I have off."
    "You're not really Irish, are you?"
    "Far from it. My father is French and my
mother American."
    "That accounts for your gorgeous bone
structure. You've European features. Manly and bold. Is fighting an
angry Scotsman your only job?"
    Small talk? Fine. He could dig it. Man did
not survive by sex alone. Mostly.
    "When not performing I’m a swordsmith.”
    “Isn’t that someone who works with iron and
steel?”
    Kai thought he heard her audibly shiver.
“Same things. I forge weaponry. Swords mostly, but I’ve fashioned a
few medieval maces and some scimitars.”
    “I suspected you might have a crafty side.
Hmm…" Her smile fell, and Kai wondered if she might cry. What a
sudden and weird change of emotion. "Imagine. You, having all that
close contact with iron. Huh.”
    Ah. Now he understood what she was thinking.
Iron was a faery's bane.
    As a faery should be your bane?
    Ignoring his intrusive inner voice, Kai
hooked his thumbs at his waistband. He would never force cold iron
on her to harm or persuade. That would be cruel. But he wasn't so
stupid that he wouldn't wield it against a faery if necessary.
    Rissa strode to the huge window hung with
white sheers. Moonlight glowed in her hair. With a mere crook of
her finger, Kai joined her side. Her thigh pressed against his, and
he slid his hand over her leg, toying with the hem of her short
dress. "I like this color on