Kismeta © 2006 by Rowan McBride. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without author's permission.

*****

A mate? Me?

For a long moment my world was him: his warm, hard arms; his smooth, bare skin; that deep, cultured voice. There was nothing else. Only the meta.

Then he dragged me out of the chair.

My vision snapped into focus and I saw my horrified friends watching my abduction. Beer bottles smashed to the floor as I struggled against the hold, but I didn’t cry out for their help. Because they would have tried, and that would have been the ultimate show of disrespect toward a meta.

There was no point in fighting him, and yet I bucked and kicked as if my life depended on it. My life didn’t depend on it, of course. If I was his mate, then he wouldn’t harm me. I belonged to him now, his companion for life.

The sound of Pops’s voice in my head stilled my body. I’d never understood that statement. Was I going to find out now?

The meta lifted me over the railing, then carried me out of Sam’s Tavern. The brisk night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of his skin. He kept nuzzling my neck and I kept trying to push him away from me. That, too, was useless. He was so much stronger than me—I could feel the power radiating from his muscles.

One of his arms left my body while the other kept me secure against his. I heard the sound of jangling keys, heard one slide into a lock.

Keys. Most metas preferred those cars with the biometric locks.

He placed me into the passenger seat and pressed his lips to my cheek.

God. How could any man’s lips be firm and soft at the same time? When he drew back, I looked into his face. Those dark eyes held me captivated as his hand slid up my torso, closed around the seatbelt, and slid downward to buckle me in.

Meta hands had always fascinated me. They were large, slightly out of proportion with the rest of their bodies. And now there were a pair on my body.

He slammed the door and the spell cracked. As he walked around to the driver’s side, I clawed at both the lock and the fastening mechanism on my seatbelt.

“Don’t bother,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat. I noticed he didn’t buckle himself in. “You aren’t strong enough to unlock that door.”

I gave it one last, frantic heave before I gave up, settled back. I glanced at him when he turned the ignition, then looked around as I tried to gather my bearings. Despite the low-tech features, this was definitely a meta car. I felt like a child sitting inside it, with the oversized seat and the high dashboard. I could see out the passenger window, but I couldn’t see over the dash.

My head fell back. I wasn’t even tall enough to reach the headrest.

This was it. I’d been taken as a mate. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath as I tried to remember what I’d learned over the years.

Metas always—always—took a human mate, whether the human wanted it or not. The mate could be male or female, and the only requirement seemed to be scent.

What the hell did I smell like to get me into this mess?

Even as I asked myself that, I knew it wasn’t so simple. My cologne hadn’t marked me. It was something subtler, something humans couldn’t detect. I took another breath, but couldn’t keep myself from trembling.

It was an honor to be chosen. I’d learned that in school. But Pops had connected me with people who taught me other things. Information not released to the public because the metas controlled the media. I’d tried my damndest to forget all of it but it was a part of me now, and I was scared out of my mind.

Could he smell that?

The night lights of the city splashed a kaleidoscope of patterns on my body as we drove. I watched as they touched on my feet and traveled up my hands, my arms. The flash and flickers lulled me into an odd sort of calm. For a few minutes, I stopped trembling.

My fragile calm splintered when the car swerved. I gripped my seatbelt and looked at the meta in surprise. They were supposed to be infallible, but I guess Pops was right when he’d said that no one was perfect.

His eyes narrowed and he touched a panel on the dash. A blue screen lit up, and I blinked against the sudden brightness.

“What... What happened?”

“Someone cut me off.”

His long fingers drummed against the screen. Typing, and faster with one hand than any human was with two.

“What are you doing?”

He shifted his gaze to me as his fingers continued to type. “Making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Someone was about to be busted for disrespecting a meta. I knew better than to question one of their decisions, but... “That can’t wait until later? Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the road?” I knew this argument was just buying the driver a little time. Even if it worked, metas never forgot anything.

He smiled, and I tried not to be dazzled by it. “I am paying attention.” The screen chimed and went dark. His fingers skimmed my cheek before he returned his gaze to the road.

Too late. Sorry, whoever you are.

The kaleidoscope on my body began to fade. We were leaving the Apple, my apartment, my friends, the life I was just starting to like.

That driver wasn’t the only one in trouble.

About forty-five minutes passed before the car finally came to a stop. We’d been heading north, I think. So that would make this…Scarsdale, maybe? Seemed like a good fit for a meta.

He turned off the engine and left the car. I tugged at my seatbelt again, then remembered I was pinned.

The passenger door opened and he reached inside, easily unfastening the belt and lifting me out.

“I-I can walk.”

He hugged me closer as he strode up the cobblestone path. “I’ve had you for less than an hour. I will not risk you sustaining injury on an unfamiliar path.”

His voice made my body vibrate. Keeping my hands to myself, I stared at his face. Tan, flawless skin; powerful features. His obsidian eyes were fringed by equally dark lashes. His nose was straight, aristocratic. His lower lip was fuller than the upper, and I found myself struggling against the urge to suck on it.

I’d been so intent on his intriguing face that it jarred me when he swung open the doors to his house. He set me on the floor as the lights turned on.

My mouth fell open as I turned around in a slow circle.

Did I say house? Mansion. Palace was a pretty good word, too. And this was just the foyer.

The expanse of marble struck me first. It was everywhere. The floor, the staircase, the walls. Carrara marble. Gleaming white, and almost devoid of lines or swirls.

Where did he get so much of this quality? Did he have any more laying around? Could I have it?

“Welcome home.”

Home? I spun, craned my neck upward. The luster of the marble faded. “Th-There’s been some mistake.”

He smiled. “There has been no mistake. I caught your scent as I passed the Metropolitan Museum of Art today. I followed it inside and found it lingering near a four foot steel sculpture.” He tilted his head to the side. “You were there for quite a while. Why?”

“The sculpture’s mine—well, it belongs to the Met now—but I-I created it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Then you are Brian Cade.”

I couldn’t tell whether he was pleased with the discovery. “Yes. Wh-What’s your name?”

“Elias Hawke.”

I’m not sure why, but metas always seem to have these dramatic, powerful, elegant names. I’ve never known one to be called Earl or Larry or Bob. “I’ve…” I hesitated, unsure how much I was allowed in my new role. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“Understandable. I moved here three months ago. This estate has been under construction for two years, awaiting my arrival. I’m the new Seventh for this region.”

The world was carved into regions now. The size of a region was determined by population, and each region was governed by seven metas. “What happened to the old Seventh? Jeremiah Thorne?”

“He is now the Fourth in Boston.” Elias took a step back, looked me over. “You are very small.”

I winced. I’d been hearing that all my life, and it had been an albatross. At five foot one, I was way below average. My parents would have pumped me full of growth hormones and even subjected me to surgery to get me to a ‘normal’ size, despite the health problems that would have come from such actions. Pops had gotten them to spare me that. And he was the one who pushed me forward when I would have accepted my ‘handicapped’ status.

Remembering that gave me strength, and my fist clenched. “I’m small? You’re about two feet shy of the average meta, aren’t you?”

Oh, shit. I could actually feel the color draining from my skin. Had I just back-talked a meta?

Strength was vastly overrated.

His mouth crooked as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m fifteen. What’s your excuse?”

Fifteen? My twenty-seventh birthday was last week! I stared at him a taut moment before I broke for the door.

Almost instantly, his arms engulfed me once again. He chuckled as he nuzzled my neck. “You’re a quick one, little Brian.”

I twisted and writhed in his hold. “I-I can’t do this. Give me a call in three years, okay?”

More soft laughter filled the air. “Your rules don’t apply to us.” He gently pushed me to arm’s length. “Metas are sexually active by nine, and we’re considered adults at twelve.”

I shuddered. “Nine? But you’re just a... Nine?”

When he saw I was too shocked to make another run for it, he released my body. He was crouched before me, and his eyes were level with mine. “By the time I was six, I was taller than you are now.”

Running a shaking hand through my hair, I tried to comprehend that. Failed. Miserably. “Just because you’re taller doesn’t mean… You’re still a…” I couldn’t even say it.

“Our maturation cycle is very different from yours. We grow up much sooner, and retain our vitality longer.”

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the knowledge he was fifteen years old. “So… What? I age, you don’t?”

His big hand cupped me under the chin. “You are my mate. Once the first act of intercourse is completed, your biology will be altered and linked to mine. You will remain youthful, and you will die the moment I do.”

Pops had never told me about that! “When will you die?”

He grinned. “I’m not psychic, Brian.”

I stumbled back from his hold. “Choose someone else. Please.”

His smile disappeared as he rose to his feet, towering over me. “I had not expected to find you for another ten years, but I have no more choice in this matter than you do. I caught your scent, and I was compelled to track you. Kismeta demanded it.”

“Kismeta,” I gritted out. That, I had been told about.

“Do you know what that means?”

I moved away until my back bumped into one of the cool, marble walls of the foyer. “It’s a fusion of the words ‘kismet’ and ‘meta.’ It’s supposed to represent the concept of a meta’s fated companion, but it’s really just a rationalization for snatching humans off the street. A justification for glorified rape. You say you can’t help it, that there’s a force greater than you compelling your actions, and that makes it right.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who filled your head with such idiocy?” He closed the distance between us, stared down at me over the shelf of his pecs. “Kismeta is very real, little Brian. Whether you want to believe it or not, I am bonded to you now, and I will never be able to take another.”

My brow furrowed as I tried to press myself into the wall. “Y-You can’t have sex with anyone but me?”

“I can have sex with another meta, but only if you are present. Only if your scent fills the room.”

This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t tell fact from fiction. “I—”

He crouched before me once again. “And it will not be rape. You want me. I can scent that, as well.”

I did want him, from the moment he’d walked into Sam’s Tavern. But there were too many other emotions tying me into knots. “If you can smell all that, then you must smell my fear, right?”

The hardness slipped from his face, and his voice gentled. “What can I do to alleviate your fears, Brian?”

I hadn’t expected that question. I had always been taught that metas were ruthless, and they were. I’d witnessed it many times. I’d witnessed it tonight. “I-I don’t know.”

“I will not hurt you.” He took hold of my white dress shirt to pull me closer, and I realized belatedly that my suit jacket was still hanging on my chair at Sam’s. “And do not allow my age to inhibit you.”

“I don’t see how—”

His other hand lifted and undid my tie. “I’m smarter than you.”

The tie slid around my neck and fell to the floor. “Yes.”

Surprisingly nimble fingers went to the buttons of my shirt. “Bigger. Taller. Stronger.”

“Y-Yes.”

“I’ve had two thousand, seven hundred and twenty-eight sexual partners in my lifetime. How many have you had?”

My eyes rounded. “Three.”

His fingers paused as he met my gaze. “Three?”

I nodded.

A slow smile curved that arresting mouth. “You were waiting. For me.”

Romantic, and in keeping with Kismeta, but not the truth. “No one… No one wants me.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“They don’t. Like you said, I’m small.”

Elias untucked my shirt from my slacks and removed it from my body. “You humans… you’ve been worshiping us so long that we’ve become your sole template for male beauty.” He leaned forward, kissed my shoulder. “I find you attractive.”

Unbidden, my hand touched his hair. Soft, midnight strands of silk. He thought I was attractive? A meta thought I was attractive?

His wide palm skimmed down my torso. “Given all these facts, you should be able to come to the conclusion that I am the elder in every way but age. And age is a poor substitute for experience, don’t you agree?”

I didn’t know what to think anymore.

He didn’t press me for an answer; he only continued to caress my body. “You are very well formed, Brian. How do you take care of yourself?”

My breath hitched—his touch broke up the tangle of emotions inside of me and left only one. “I swim. Every day.” And I was as fit as I could be, given my genetics. My shoulders were slightly overdeveloped, but the rest of me was in proportion. I didn’t have a lot of mass, but the lithe muscles I did have were defined and visible because of low body fat.

His head shot up. “You swim?”

Metas couldn’t swim. I hesitated, hoping I hadn’t angered him. “Yes.” I was almost famous, once. Although he’d obviously never heard of me. Metas didn’t participate in sports with humans anymore, and they certainly didn’t follow swimming. But then, even humans rarely remembered the guy who came in third.

His dark eyes were intent on mine. I wondered what he thought of my eyes—they were hazel, but so pale they were almost colorless. My dirty blond hair was equally unimpressive. I’d always secretly believed that all those years of chlorine had done something to it, but my doctor had assured me several times over the years that my theory had no basis in fact.

“I wish to show you something,” said Elias. He stood, held out his hand.

Tentatively, I took it, tried not to be entranced by the sight of my hand disappearing as he closed his fingers around me.

“Do you like my hands, Brian?”

The smile in his voice made me look up. The playfulness in his expression caught me off-guard, but I nodded.

He gave me a light tug and I followed him out of the foyer. He took me down several long hallways, all gleaming white, devoid of any decorations on the walls. They all looked the same, and I knew I could never find my way back on my own.

“You’ve been here three months?”

“Yes.”

“Do you plan to put art on the walls?”

His thumb caressed the inside of my forearm. “Would that please you?”

“I’m not sure.” Right now this place seemed blank, sterile. Would putting up a few pictures quell the uneasiness inside of me?

I stumbled and he paused. “Am I walking too quickly for you?”

“A little,” I said, embarrassed to admit it.

He only grinned and slowed his stride.

Finally we came to a pair of huge glass doors leading to…his backyard, I think. Although it wasn’t like any backyard I’d ever seen. There were acres and acres of it; the lawn fringed by a thick growth of trees that probably belonged to him too.

He guided me onto the veranda, then walked the perimeter of the mansion until we reached a set of steps. Without warning he lifted me up and carried me to the ground. Again I was caught by his face, his body, his warmth.

“This is Kismeta, Brian,” he said, setting me down on another deck.

I turned, and my entire body froze in shock.

“Do you understand, now?”

An Olympic sized swimming pool… An Olympic sized swimming pool on a meta’s estate. I knew it was perfect on sight. Fifty meters long, twenty-five meters wide. There were no buoys to mark off the lanes, but the water was so clear that I could see the lines painted on the bottom.

“I don’t understand at all,” I whispered.

“Why would I commission such a monstrosity if I were not waiting for you? As you’ve been waiting for me.”

I stared into the water, listened as it lapped against the edges of the pool. I shivered, both from cold and confusion.

Elias wrapped his arms around me from behind, drawing me close to his body. “I should not have brought you here half naked.”

“Is it heated? The pool?”

His mouth found its way to my neck as he nuzzled me. Why was he so enamored with that part of my body?

“Yes, the settings range from twenty-five degrees Celsius to twenty-eight degrees Celsius. You may adjust them to your liking any time you wish.”

I turned in his embrace, nearly groaned at the sensation of my bare skin sliding against his. “I can adjust it?”

A smile touched his lips. “I have no use for any of its features. The pool is yours, Brian, and yours alone.”

My gaze fastened on those full lips. “You really haven’t made a mistake?”

“You are my mate.”

“I’m at your side for the rest of my life?”

He took my chin in his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face upward. “You will be quite content.” He removed my shoes, set them aside. His fingers trailed down the center of my body, skimming my torso until they reached my slacks. He unfastened the catch, slid the pants down my hips, down my legs, to the deck. “And I will make sure your body is always satisfied.”

I didn’t want to be content; I wanted to be happy. I didn’t want satisfaction; I wanted love.

But, realistically, these things were out of reach for a man like me, whether I was a mate or not.

“Join with me, Brian.”

I stared into those dark eyes a long, agonizing moment, then leaned in to take his lower lip into my mouth.

His large hands slid to my back, stroking my fair skin. He worked my briefs off my body and I caressed his broad, thick chest. My fingers trailed down his midsection, and I silently counted each row of abdominal muscles.

One… two…

The blocks of muscle clenched at my touch, burying the tips of my fingers in their grooves.

Three… four… five…

I found the catch to his pants. It was made of tougher stuff than the one on mine, though, and I actually had to put some effort into unfastening it. But I managed, and Elias rose to his feet.

He stepped out of his shoes and began to remove his pants. His face was tight, his muscles were tense, and it wasn’t from arousal.

I glanced at the pool, less than three feet away from us, and back at him. “It’s the water, isn’t it? You don’t like to be so close to it.”

He drew his zipper downward and pushed his slacks off his thick legs. He didn’t have on any underwear, and his enormous cock was already half hard. “I am willing to join with you here if it will make you more comfortable.”

It did make me more comfortable, being near my element. But if I were in his place—if water was the only thing on Earth that could kill me—I don’t think I could have sex within a mile of it. “I’d… I’d like a bed.” My gaze drew away from his cock and I gauged his reaction. “Is that all right?”

His face softened. I thought he was going to say something, but instead he swept me into his arms and broke into a run.

I clutched at his shoulders as he sprinted into the mansion. His speed had me squeezing my eyes shut as the air buffeted our bodies. It was hard to breathe—I don’t think he really understood how delicate I was compared to him.

In moments, though, he slid to a stop. He laid me onto a bed, and I stared up at a high, white ceiling. As I caught my breath, I gripped at the garnet comforter: the only splash of color in the entire room.

How could he live this way? Surrounded by so much bland indistinguishability? What part of Elias was in this room?

The mattress dipped as he crawled onto the mattress. The garnet comforter deepened the hue of his bronzed skin, and that was my answer.

In any room, he was the centerpiece.

His arm hooked around me as he drew me higher onto the bed. His lips found their way to my neck again, but only lingered a moment. Soon he was tasting my shoulders, my chest. My hands drifted into his hair, twisted his dark locks around my fingers. His mouth locked around one of my nipples and I gasped; my hands spasming at the sharp pain.

He lifted his head, grinning down at me. “Too fierce?”

I rubbed my palm against my aching chest and nodded.

Elias chuckled. “I apologize. It has been a very long time since I’ve wanted anyone—human or meta—as much as I want you.”

Was the driving force of Kismeta that powerful?

He dipped his head, kissed my abs. While nowhere near as cut as his, I did have faint, symmetrical lines marking each muscle.

He traveled lower and I pushed myself up to my elbows, couldn’t stop the tremors that shook me when I realized his destination.

His gaze met mine, and never left it as he closed his mouth around my cock. His hot, wet mouth took all of me in as his thick tongue swirled around my pole. Gently, carefully, he sucked on me, and my head fell back as I moaned. He took me deeper into his mouth, sucked my balls onto his tongue. I bolted upright and fell forward, grabbing hold of hair again as I tried to hang on. My fists clenched, my body tightened.

His powerful mouth sucked on me one last time and I let go, shuddering violently as I pumped my load down his throat. He milked every last drop from my prick, and I slumped over him, shaking with a strange combination of embarrassment and bliss.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Elias untangled me from his body and pressed me back onto the mattress. “It’s all right. You have only had three partners, and I’d wager none of them was a meta.” He kissed my forehead, my cheek, my neck. “I am intense, but you will learn.” He threaded his long fingers through my hair. “But now I must see to my own pleasure. Do you understand?”

With his cock pressing hard against my body, I nodded and reached downward.

A low sound of approval rumbled out of him as I stroked him. It was like touching a column of steel wrapped in smooth, fine velvet. His hips rocked against me, slid his shaft up and down my abs. His hands were braced on each side of my shoulders as he held himself above me, making sure not to crush me with his dense body.

I stared up at him in awe. His biceps and triceps turned his upper arms into an erotic, savage mass of muscle bigger than my head. His traps rose thick and high, while his delts formed boulders atop his broad shoulders. His pecs loomed over my head, two slabs of rock hard muscles that rippled with pleasure every time I stroked his cock.

The veins on his shaft pulsed bigger and were like granite against my palm. The column of flesh swelled, and the huge mushroomed cap began to drip pre-cum onto my chest.

Elias balanced his weight on one hand and leaned to the left to open a drawer in his night stand. He pulled out a bottle of lube and flicked it open with his thumb.

My hand paused on his cock, and the flesh beneath it throbbed, wanting more. “I don’t think…”

He smiled down at me. “You are my mate; we were meant to fit. I will not hurt you.”

Suddenly, I wished I had faith in Kismeta. I tried to steady myself by having faith in Elias, even though I’d only met him tonight.

He slicked the clear lube over his pole, then touched his hand to my ass.

I slowly bent my knees, spread them apart.

He eased his finger into my hole, massaged the tension out of me. He used a second finger to better prepare me for his entry. The penetration made me hard again and Elias grinned, lowering himself to kiss my stiffening prick.

Sitting back on his haunches, he took at moment to survey my flushed body. His cock throbbed, bounced with every beat of his heart. He covered my knees with his overlarge hands and slid them down my thighs, then underneath my ass to reposition me. He spread my cheeks and pressed the head of his cock to my pucker.

His dark gaze met mine, and his voice held a teasing note to it. “Breathe.”

I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped. As I drew in a deep breath, he pushed himself into me.

One inch… two…

His eyes stayed locked with mine.

… three… four…

The corner of his mouth lifted.

… five… six…

A soft moan left his mouth, and I stopped counting.

He eased deeper, drew out, then pushed himself deeper still. My experience wasn’t great, but I’d never been filled this way, had never known this insane pressure building inside of me. I squirmed, knowing I was about to come a second time when he hadn’t even had his first release.

His cadence was slow, steady. He could do this forever, riding me. My skin beaded with sweat while his was still smooth, with the barest hint of dusky rose touching it. The veins coiling around his muscles were the only real indication that he might be close. They were swollen thick with blood, so thick that I could see their pulse. The same pulse inside of me, the same pulse he used as he fucked me.

I came again, a hot rush of white that matched the cool walls. It splattered all over my chest, my stomach.

Elias reached down, swirled his hand over my stomach, and licked his fingers clean. All the while he kept thrusting into me, slowly increasing the force he used, quickening his tempo.

Although I was spent, I surfed on a wave of ecstasy with every stroke.

All at once, his hands gripped me tight, he plunged himself deep. He roared and erupted into my body. This was his first orgasm, I had one on him, but he more than made up for that in sheer ferocity. His first shot was more than all I’d spilled combined, and by the second his cum was pouring out of my ass.

He pulled out of me with a slurp and a pop before shooting a third time. In seconds I was soaked, and I coughed and sputtered.

“Swallow,” he ordered gently.

I swallowed hard. It tasted sweet. Like…some familiar nectar I couldn’t place. I scooped some off my face and into my mouth. It was still warm. It made me feel warm. It made me feel…

I licked the palm of my hand. The walls brightened, as if illuminated from within the marble. The fibers of the comforter beneath me felt glorious against my skin. I drew in a long breath, relishing the scent of my sex mingled with his. Confused, joyed, I looked to Elias for explanation.

I couldn’t focus. The white, the garnet, the bronze of his skin and the jet of his hair… it all swirled around me, enveloped me. A rush of sensation overcame me, and I felt myself slipping away, unable to voice my questions.

Elias leaned over me, and his voice reverberated through my body.

“Kismeta.”