Chapter 94

Marc wanted, badly, to go find this harpy and destroy her. Instead, he pulled Aldara close to his side and tucked his arm around her. "So you have no idea why you were different?"
"Geraint and I talked about it a lot. He thought that perhaps greed and vanity had been the reasons for the curse in the first place. My mother wasn't like that, so she broke the curse, not for herself but for her descendants." She took a deep breath and gave him a forced smile. "But I survived and Geraint took me in and raised me as his own. Getting thrown in the ocean and washing up on just the right island seems to be a habit with me."
"As long as this was the last time, I'm not going to complain," he said. "I'm sorry for all you've been through, blackbird, and especially about your father. Do you have any other family?" He toyed with her hand where it rested on his thigh, so small and soft against his tough hide.
"Not really. Geraint has - had - a son but he and I never got along. That's why I had to leave Stone Island. Yves inherited it of course. Geraint left me a small amount of cash, enough to start a new life somewhere else. We talked about it before he died. I was going to go to New York and see if I could get work singing in a club."
"That's why you were on the ship, then. I wonder why you didn't fly."
"I don't know." She shook her head. "Hopefully the rest of my memory will trickle back in. But I do know one thing that's very important."
"What's that?"
"There isn't anyone in my life, Marc. I'm one hundred percent unattached."
"Thank God," he said with a chuckle. "Though we'd suspected as much."
She wrinkled up her pert little nose. "Told you so."
He had to laugh. "So you did. You want a cookie?"
"Wrong consonant."
He raised one eyebrow.
"What?" she asked, rolling over to land on his chest with an adorable pounce. "I thought you'd be familiar with the term 'nookie'. Don't tell me they don't say that in Canada?"
"Oh, I'm familiar with it, mademoiselle." He settled her astride his legs and leaned back against the headboard, stretching his wings out to the side. His tail was tucked under the pillow. "I'm just surprised you were."
She shrugged. "There were a few American girls at school." Her damp pussy rubbed back and forth along the ridge of his cock, making him hard as a ship's mast.
"School," he mused. "Just how old are you, cherie? I have the worst feeling that I'm robbing the cradle."
"Twenty-six," she answered readily. "I went to the mainland for school but came home right after college. Geraint was unwell for several years and I didn't want to leave him. Yves was only there occasionally so I stayed on the island with my father."
"Of course you did." Reassured that she was an adult, he kissed her, deeply and with all the enthusiasm of a teenager. "Good morning, mon coeur."
"Mmmm. Good morning indeed." Taking the initiative this time, she kissed him, hard and fierce.
His cock, already hard on waking, swelled to the point of bursting as she rubbed her damp cleft along it while they kissed. He let her lead, even welcomed her tongue as she explored his mouth. Since the position offered the opportunity, he reached up and cupped both her breasts. The generous flesh overflowed his hands and pebbled nipples stabbed into his palms. She was so ripe, so responsive that he could already smell her fresh arousal mingling with the scents of last night's passion.
Aldara broke the kiss to nip a line from his chin, along his jawbone and up to his ear, bringing one of her plump nipples perfectly in line with Marc's mouth. He latched on to the taut bud with his lips and sucked deeply, relishing the taste and textures of her skin. She moaned into his ear just before she used her sharp canine tooth to gently nip the pointed tip.
"Fuck!" Marc's pelvis lifted up off the bed as a bolt of lightning shot from his ear straight to his groin. He was hard enough to hammer nails and her wet cunt was right there, hovering just out of his reach. He let go of her breasts then used one hand to hold his shaft in place while his other guided her down to impale herself on him.
She pushed up with her hands on his shoulders to angle her body then lowered herself slowly, her drenched tissues parting around him, then gradually enclosing his aching cock in a hot, wet clasp.
Marc groaned. She was so tight, so perfect. "Oui, mon ange. Just like that."
"Ooohh." Her little whimper was breathy and sweet. "I feel so perfectly full - like we're interlocking parts of a jigsaw puzzle."
"We are, cherie. Made to fit together like this." It was true, though he'd never thought it before, not with any other female. No one had ever matched him like this, curve for curve, inch for inch. The sensation encompassed more than just his cock - his whole being felt as if it were enclosed in a warm, moist hug. Last night he'd been too worried about hurting her to really enjoy it but this morning he wasn't thinking about anything but the pleasure. His eyes rolled back in his head. Nothing had ever felt so intense in his life.
Then she started to move.
"Marc!" She cried out as she rocked forward on his shaft, figuring out how to ride him. He used his hands to guide her hips, help her find the rhythm that suited them both. Once she'd established that glide, he took her breasts in his hands again, pinching the nipples lightly between his fingertips. The corresponding clench of her pussy let him know she approved so he continued, rasping them with the pads of his fingers then rolling them in time to her movements on his cock.
Her tight inner muscles gripped him, making sure he felt every bit of friction, even though she was extremely wet. His balls drew up close to his body, full and tender, ready to explode into her welcoming cunt.
Her pace quickened gradually until she was riding him hard, gasping for breath with every stroke. She was close and Marc desperately wanted to hold out until she came but he didn't know if he could. He was fighting to hold on when everything in him wanted to burst. He let go of her left breast and slid his hand between their bodies to find her pussy. His fingers wound through the small tuft of damp black curls to find her slit then deeper still to finger her clit, which was as hard as a pearl, standing erect as if begging for his touch.
"Yes," she moaned as he gently rubbed. Her movements speeded further and he matched her, rasping his finger on her clit with a firmer, stronger touch. Soon her breathing was nothing more than a series of fractured whimpers and then she froze, her spine bowed as she bore down on his hand and his cock and let out a long, keening cry.
As her pussy convulsed around him, Marc lifted his hips from the mattress, driving up into her with all his strength. Her nails dug into his shoulders and that little pain just fueled his climax further, making him roar like the lion he resembled as he erupted into her waiting heat. Over and over he emptied his swollen testicles until he should have been little more than a desiccated husk.
Her orgasm lasted through his, rippling over his flesh and milking him of every drop. When they finally finished, she fell onto his chest and Marc didn't even have the strength to roll them to their sides or pull up the covers. Her weight didn't bother him - he couldn't breathe anyway, so what did a tiny woman on his chest matter? All he could do was wrap his arms around her and hold her close.