Gargoyle's Mate by Nia K. Foxx

his sensitive hearing to her room wanting to connect with her in some way. A primal groan escaped at the sound of her voice. Why did she affect him in such a way? His cock stirred. He listened after Pierre left while she moved silently about her room. When Luc arrived Lorn could almost see the male flirting with her. He cursed silently as he remembered the amorous appetite of the young elf. At the pubescent age of one hundred, Luc was still sowing his wild oats in whatever willing female he happened across. He realized Fatima must have presented a tempting package with her smooth ebony skin, full lips and exotic eyes.
    He growled his displeasure as Pierre scolded his youngest son in lyrical Elvish.
    “She’s off limits, you know this.”
    “What’s the big deal?” Luc pouted. “Lorn has shared with me before.”
    “Not this time,.”
    “Perhaps we should let the lady decide. I caught her checking out my ass. She was obviously interested.”
    Lorn’s initial growl changed to a full-fledged challenge he was certain both elves heard even at his distance. The following silence was answer enough. Luc wasn’t so smitten as to accept a gargoyle’s challenge – especially if the gargoyle was Lorn.
    Lorn redirected his focus back to Fatima’s bedroom again as she quietly padded to the adjoining bath. He heard the gentle thud when her clothes hit the tiled floor. It was soon followed by the spray of the shower. He could picture her naked, upturned dark nipples coated to a glistening sheen by the water, begging to be kissed and suckled. He willed his body under control with effort which left him visibly shaken. He couldn’t remember a woman ever having the same effect on him. He only knew he had to have her and soon.
    ***
    Fatima drifted from the edge of sleep into wakefulness as a knock sounded on the heavy wooden door.
    “Yes?” she called, pulling herself into a sitting position.
    The door opened quietly on well-oiled hinges, admitting a slender woman with blond hair hanging loosely to her waist. She regarded Fatima with curious blue eyes. Pierre’s daughter, Fatima assumed, taking in the shy beauty.
    “Dinner will be served shortly,” she announced.
    “Thank you,” Fatima answered, pushing wild curls from her face. She hadn’t bothered to blow dry her hair after the shower, and the result was thick curly ringlets swarming to take over.
    “If you’d like I can wait for you,” the girl offered.
    “Yes, please,” she agreed, hurrying from the bed to the bathroom where she could repair the damage of a couple hours of comfortable sleep.
    “I’m Sara,” the girl volunteered from the bedroom while Fatima secured her hair once more in a neat ponytail.
    “Fatima,” she answered, taking a wet cloth to her face. She hadn’t meant to sleep so deeply, but evidently her fatigued body needed the break. She gave herself a quick once over. Her makeup free face wasn’t exactly glamorous but it would have to do. She took in the white T-shirt hugging her upper body. The word ‘Adorable,’ pronounced in hot pink glitter, matched the knee length, breezy skirt she wore.
    “Ready,” she declared as she rejoined the waiting young woman.
    Sara nodded, causing unhampered corn silk curls to fall slightly forward. Fatima resisted the urge to tuck the shiny strands behind her ears to keep it from her face when Sara made no move of her own to do so. Maybe the caps were for men only.
    “You’re Pierre’s daughter?” Fatima asked as she followed the woman down the long corridor then stairs she’d taken earlier.
    “Yes. I’m the youngest of seven,” she supplied in her nearly flawless English. “My brother Luc is just a few years older.”
    “Seven, wow.” She couldn’t suppress the envy in her voice. “I’m sure you all kept your parents busy.”
    Sara giggled, her innocent laughter reminding Fatima of a child. “An understatement indeed.”
    “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling, but