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An Excerpt From: THREE HEARTS IN THE WIND
 Copyright CHARLOTTE BOYETT-COMPO, 2008.
All Rights Reserved, New Concepts Publishing
Kynt ran his tongue between his lips a few times. He’d used that expert muscle almost as much during the past night it was nearly as numb as the one between his legs. Despite walking a bit stiffly, he was pleasantly tired and completely sated. By his reckoning, he’d satisfied nine women in the time it had taken Alyx to do what Alyx did so well.
“But I had the real thing,” Kynt said with a smirk as he walked through the stone wall.
He’d had brown cunt and pink cunt and every shade in between he thought as he moved down the long corridor. He’d eaten so much sweet fur pie it was a wonder he hadn’t become a diabetic overnight. He was sure if he could weigh himself, he’d have gained at least ten stone.
He licked his lips and remembered the salted honey flavors that had mingled in his mouth. The memories brought about a long, pleased sigh of contentment as he relived the evening’s trysts.
Breasts—some heavy and pendulous, some perky and some no bigger than fried eggs. Nipples—most large and tasty if the wench was the breastfeeding kind but a few were shallow buds that needed to be coaxed to attention with delicious little nibbles. Areoles—pink or brown or taupe or dusky peach but every one a delight to lick and flick and lap and lave.
Silken arms and long, powerful legs had clasped him hard. Mouths had taken his and tongues had slipped between his teeth. Bodies had strained against his. Sheaths had pulsed around him with darling little ripples that made his quiver with recollection.
“Life is sweet,” he said as he floated along. “Life is so sweet.”
He refused to think about the little things he’d left behind with the women he’d fucked so thoroughly during those fleeting moments he’d been allowed freedom to be what he was. It didn’t bear remembering that in nine months those same women would be cursing their ghostly lover as they strained to bring new life into the world.
“Sorry,” he mumbled and that was the last he would even entertain a moment’s breath of guilt.
As he neared Alyx’s chambers, he stopped to ponder the last woman into whom he’d poured his seed. Ah, but she had been such a romping delight!
“Meghan,” he said, closing his pale blue eyes as he brought to mind her lovely face and luscious form.
He’d slipped through the thatched walls of her cottage for he had smelled the need coursing from her tight little virgin cunt. Like a beacon her need drew him into a dark corner of the dwelling and to her lonely cot where she was writhing beneath the covers, her slender hands on her hot sex.
“Let me,” he’d whispered and then slid into the cot beside her.
He eased aside her hands and rubbed her silken patch of curls, eliciting a low groan from her pretty mouth.
“Shush!” he warned. It would not do for the others in the cottage to hear and come to investigate.
He swirled his hand over and over her mons, pressing the base of his palm hard just above the sweet bud he so ached to taste. When she began arching her hips up to him in sacrifice, he slipped a finger into that hot channel and then had to quickly cover her mouth with his to drown out her moaning gasp.
In and out his finger moved slowly and surely as his tongue slipped past her teeth to swirl around her mouth. Her panting, her trembling built until he twisted his finger around inside her so he could thumb her tight little anus as well.v
Though he could control the span of human time easily—and had to for Mage time was quicker still and Alyx was nearing the completion of what he did so well—he hated to rush this virginal beauty. But he was running out of time and he so wanted to taste her and claim that fragile obstruction within her sheath.
Lightning quick he mounted her and nudged her thighs far apart. His shaft was huge and she was a tiny thing but need overcame his normal care for his human conquests. He could hear Alyx moaning and time was of the essence.
With one powerful thrust, he broke through the little barricade, caught her pained intake of breath in his mouth and then with lightning strokes brought her quickly to a glorious climax—her very first—and then rode her until his own pleasure had been accomplished. As Alyx strove to get his racing pulse and gasping breath under control, Kynt shot one last creamy burst into Meghan’s well-fucked cunt and then dissolved, leaving the newly-made woman to sigh with utter content.
“I took you better than any fumbling village boy ever could have, Meggie, my love. You’ll remember your spectral lover with a smile,” he said and opened his eyes.
He blinked, blinked again, and his lips parted as two powerful warriors rushed him.
* * * * *
MageLord Alyx Caden’s head was pounding with excruciating pain as he walked the long, dark corridor lit sparingly by sputtering torches stuck in brackets on the slick, damp wall. He had been summoned by the new Abbot of Conduct to appear before the Coyrle Smaghtaghey, the Council of Chastisement, and since he knew he’d done nothing wrong, there was only one reason for the command—Kynt was in trouble with the Brothers yet again.
“I don’t need this today,” Alyx muttered through clenched teeth.
Something scurried past the hem of his black robe, bumped into his leg and bounced off. He stopped to look down. A pair of glowing red eyes gazed back at him.
“Many pardons, MageLord,” a tiny little voice apologized.
“No harm done. Is something wrong, Brother Lonnag?” Alyx asked politely.
“These are bad times, my son,” the little mouse man squeaked. He gave a slow shake of his furry gray head. His long whiskers twitched. “Bad things are happening in the community of mages.”
Alyx flinched. “Nothing Kynt helped start I hope.”
Brother Lonnag’s little head tilted to one side and his nose crinkled. “By the grace of the gods, I hope he’s not involved in this mess! He’s in enough trouble as it is.”
A long sigh escaped Alyx. “What did he do now?”
There was a flick of a long, hairless gray tail. “Did you…ah…take matters in hand last eve, my son?”
There in the lowest level of the Drualtys Abbey the temperature was as frigid as an arctic night with a bitter wind rushing up from the bowels of the ancient monastery. The cold made his eyes water but ironically enough helped the debilitating agony clawing at his brain. He put his fingertips to his temples.
“Aye, Brother Lonnag, I did,” he admitted. “But not to work any magic. I just needed the relief.”
Another flick of the mouse man’s tail slapped it against Alyx’s robe. “That is understandable and, of course, quite permissible, but you should be more careful when you pleasure yourself. You know you need to control your Elemental at all times else he will run amok. Sadly, that is the nature of their kind. The Elemental used your lack of attention to take human form and create havoc in the village.”
Alyx squeezed his eyes tightly closed. “Oh, gods. How many this time?”
“Well,” Brother Lonnag said with a twitter, “let’s just say there will be more than a handful of half-human and half-Elemental bratlings born from Kynt’s sneaking around amongst the cottages last night. He cut a remarkable swath through the village, I’m afraid, in the span of time he had in which to do his evil. His exploits will be spoken of for decades to come.”
A miserable groan pushed from the MageLord’s throat. “No wonder the Coyrle Smaghtaghey has been convened. I’m going to wind up extinguishing that stray beam of light.”
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