The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  Beck runs both hands over Shea’s bare shoulders, and she smiles fondly as his fingers trace the tips of the Lionbird’s wings. He quickly kicks off his shoes as Shea finishes with the lacing, and Shea takes a step back so he can slide out of his pants.

  ​He glances in Jo’s direction, hesitating as he sees her staring, but then he looks back at Shea, and it must help him make up his mind because he slides his pants and undergarments off.

  ​Jo can appreciate his body, but it doesn’t hold the same attraction for her as Shea.

  Shea, on the other hand, gasps at the reveal and Jo guesses she must like what she sees.

  ​His muscles are lean, his legs are long and defined, and there’s a hint of abs gracing his strong stomach under those bandages. His length is decent, Jo supposes, for women attracted to such things. It’s hard and perhaps a little larger than the phallus they had used on their wedding night, hidden within dark brown curls.

  ​Shea steps toward him and carefully wraps her arms around his neck while he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

  He leans down slowly, stopping just before their lips touch.

  ​They’re both breathing heavily, but they don’t seal the kiss, they remain close, touching.

  ​“Something wrong?” Jo murmurs, a moan catching her throat as a spark of orgasm threatens to overtake her from her own ministrations.

  ​“Can we?” Beck croaks.

  ​Jo stops her hand; she stares at the two of them locked in a naked embrace, and suddenly she feels as if she’s the most powerful person in the room.

  ​“Are you asking my permission?” Jo inquires.

  ​“Yes,” Shea whispers, her voice barely audible.

  ​Jo hums, as the answer sends a chill down her spine. She likes that, she likes this newfound power very much.

  She leans back in the chair, resuming her hand movements upon her womanhood.

  ​“Yes. Kiss her,” Jo orders.

  ​And he does. He captures her lips in a powerful display.

  From Jo’s position, she can see everything, the way Shea’s breasts push against his bandaged chest, and his hard length rubbing against her firm lower stomach.

  ​Beck reaches a hand down, massaging Shea’s bosom, feeling his way across her nipples. Shea moans into the kiss as he scratches his thumb across the sensitive bud.

  ​“She would prefer your mouth,” Jo tells him breathily.

  ​They break the kiss, their breaths mixing together as they stare into each other’s eyes.

  ​“Take her to the bed,” Jo demands.

  ​Beck offers Shea his hand and she smiles at him, dazzling both Jo and Beck with it.

  ​She takes his hand and they walk slowly, sensually to the large bed. He lays Shea across it on her back and climbs on top. She opens her legs for him to lay in between and he gratefully takes the chance, positioning his knees there.

  He lays down on top of her, his forearms supporting his weight, and Jo can tell it hurts, but he doesn’t let himself down. He protects Shea even from himself. Beck captures Shea’s lips once again, their mouths moving in a symbiotic dance, and there’s no space between them, as he grinds his hard length against her hip.

  ​Jo moves her hand a little faster, bringing the other up to her own chest, stimulating her nipple as Beck kisses his way down Shea’s throat.

  ​He moves lower and lower until his face is above her rising chest. He waits again.

  ​“Take her nipple into your mouth, Beck. Pleasure her,” Jo groans, arching up into her own hand.

  ​Beck does as he’s told. His tongue reaches out and he swirls the tip around Shea’s nipple.

  Her back arches as she moans at the sensation.

  He steadies himself onto his left forearm, and his right hand cups her breast as he focuses all of his attention on her areola.

  Shea’s hands almost touch his back, but she remembers herself and his wound at the last moment and grips the blanket on the bed instead. She is writhing beneath his touch and Jo can see a wet trail along Shea’s inner thigh from Beck’s heavy manhood.

  ​“You need to prepare her,” Jo moans.

  ​Beck looks up at her comment and he bites his lip. Shea catches his eyes and she smiles at him sweetly.

  ​“It’s okay. Three fingers should be enough,” she explains.

  ​Jo finds the comment strange until she remembers that Beck has never done this before.

  ​Beck returns his mouth to Shea’s breast, keeping up his attentions as his hand moves from her chest to sidle down to her opening. His body blocks Jo’s view but she can see the moment his first finger penetrates Shea, her eyes open and a small whine escapes her lips as he thrusts the digit inside.

  ​Beck pulls his mouth and his hand back, sitting up on his haunches, worriedly.

  ​“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  ​His brown eyes are ridiculously wide. He looks like a puppy after his mistress tells him no.

  ​Jo laughs at his innocent expression.

  But Shea takes a much kinder route, biting her lip to keep in her amusement. She pushes herself up onto her forearms, shaking her head.

  ​“No, I’m okay. It felt good actually,” Shea explains lightly.

  ​“Oh,” Beck sighs in relief. “Should I do it again?”

  ​“I think she’d like that very much,” Jo comments.

  Beck blushes as he’s reminded of her presence once again.

  ​Shea reaches for him, her hand falling below his waist, and Jo sees her arm start moving in a pulling gesture.

  Beck’s mouth opens in delight, and he gasps at the feeling of Shea’s hand on his length.

  ​Shea keeps up the pace until Beck is up and pushing her back against the bed.

  He moves back into his former position, his mouth on her breast and his hand falls down to her opening. He enters her again.

  Shea bites her lip to keep the sound in, so she doesn’t scare him away.

  ​Jo watches Shea’s face and imagines herself in Beck’s position, sliding her fingers inside of her gorgeous wife, making her fall apart. She opens her eyes as she comes by her own hand and she hadn’t even realized she’d closed them, lost in the fantasy. At least a minute or so must have passed because as Jo comes down from her high, her head snaps to the couple on the bed as Shea cries out in ecstasy. She smiles as she sees the two of them joined.

  Beck’s body is shaking in effort as he holds himself still, his thick length pulsing within Shea’s magnificent body. They’re kissing each other in an intimate moment and finally Shea breaks the kiss to tell him to move.

  ​Jo starts moving her hand again. She watches Beck pull his hips back gently and thrust himself inside Shea.

  They keep up the slow, steady rhythm, kissing each other as Shea’s hands curl into Beck’s thick hair and Beck mouths his way down Shea’s long neck.

  ​The whole room feels heavy, all Jo can hear is their breathing and her own.

  His hips start to move a bit faster as Shea wraps her legs around his waist, and she whispers for him to move faster and harder.

  At Shea’s directions, Jo follows her orders, moving her own hand in time with Beck’s thrusts.

  ​She’s going to come, and she practically climaxes again when Shea lets out a pleasure-filled cry as Beck thrusts quickly into her body over and over as they spill over the edge and come one after the other.

  ​Jo gasps as her orgasm rips through her core, and she collapses back against the chair. Her breath is heavy, and she knows she has a lazy smile spread across her lips. She startles as a hand wraps under her knees and another under her back. She opens her eyes to see Beck, and she quickly but carefully wraps her arms around his shoulders as he moves her to the bed on the left side of Shea.

  ​They’re both still naked.

  Beck climbs into bed on the other side, leaving Shea in between the two of them.

  ​“I guess that answers that question,” Jo murmurs, as they’re
all lying together looking up at the ceiling.

  ​“Hmm?” Shea looks over at her, their hands intertwining.

  ​“You guys were amazing together,” Jo chuckles, and they all laugh quietly.

  ​“Do you still think we’ll win?” Beck asks, not really directing the question at anyone specific.

  ​No one answers. But Shea takes his hand as well, and they all continue to stare up at the ceiling.

  Jo watches the moonlight waver on the wood from the reflection of the ocean. She studies the light, focusing on how calm and beautiful it is, and smiles to herself. She may not know if they’ll win against Perses, but with all the beauty that’s been given to her in this lifetime, she knows she can never lose.

  ​Beck’s breathing evens out first, and then Shea’s follows soon after.

  Jo listens to the sounds of their sleep, and she lets it comfort her as she tries not to think about what awaits them in Arethusa tomorrow.

  Chapter 39: One Last Hope

  Shea

  “Captain!”

  ​Shea bolts up in bed at the sound of banging at her door. Her heart is beating quickly, and as she sits up, she sees two faces in her periphery.

  The banging continues as Shea looks over at the panicked faces of Jo and Beck, all three of them inwardly praying to the gods that whoever is at the door doesn’t walk in. Because Shea’s pretty sure she didn’t lock it.

  Not that she was expecting what happened last night to happen.

  ​“Captain!”

  ​“Yes?” Shea calls out with strangled fear.

  ​She pushes back the covers, revealing her naked form. Leaving Beck and Jo in bed, she rushes to the door. She grabs her jacket off the back of one of the desk chairs and wraps it around her as she leans her entire body up against the door to keep it from opening.

  ​“Yes? What is it?”

  ​“Captain, you’re needed upstairs immediately.”

  ​Shea pins the voice down as James, and relaxes up against the door because unlike Aster, James won’t come in without an invitation.

  ​“Very good, I’ll be up soon,” Shea answers, but as she lets go of the door, it starts to open.

  ​Shea rams her body up against it, shutting it on her young bos’n.

  ​“James!”

  ​“I’m sorry, Captain. I just felt perhaps a face-to-face would be better. We need you now. It’s extremely urgent.”

  ​Shea looks up at the ceiling and then looks over to the bed. Jo is as white as a sheet; she leaps from the bed and starts dressing as quickly as she can.

  ​Beck seems pinned with fear, and with every movement he winces, his back probably bothering him from last night’s activities.

  She tries to angle herself to see if James would see the bed from cracking the door open a little.

  ​She shakes her head. These things were so much easier when she wasn’t married. She decides to stick with her original plan of keeping the door closed.

  ​James knocks again when he doesn’t hear an answer.

  ​“Shea?”

  ​“Sorry, yes. Okay, I’ll dress quickly and be up. Is something wrong?”

  ​There’s silence from the other side of the door, and at that Shea’s tempted to open up, to Hades with the consequences, but James luckily responds.

  ​“Yes, Captain. Also, I would suggest having Jo find Beck, I don’t think it would be prudent for him to be on the main deck right now.”

  ​At that, Beck is leaping from the bed.

  Shea tries not to focus on his still, gorgeous, nude form, and she has to stop him from opening the door with her hands outstretched, pushing him back by his pecks.

  ​“Why?” Shea inquires, her voice straining from the effort of holding Beck back.

  ​She almost falls when he quickly walks away, scrambling for his clothes.

  ​“You’re going to have to see this for yourself, Captain,” James tells her, and she hears his footsteps walk away.

  ​“Beck,” Shea tries, but he’s already got his pants on.

  ​He looks at his mangled shirt and leaves it on the ground, storming toward the door with a worried expression.

  ​Jo is almost dressed. She’s pulling her boots over her naval uniform pants, hopping, trying to get them on faster, as Beck gently but firmly moves Shea aside and runs out the door, heading for the main deck.

  ​“Jo,” Shea says, but Jo’s already moving.

  ​She kisses Shea’s cheek quickly.

  ​“I got him! You get to Nol for the elixir.”

  ​Shea gasps as she almost forgot. She nods, but Jo doesn’t see it as she’s barreling out the door after Beck.

  ​Shea finds some clean pants, well mostly clean, discarded on the floor. As she’s pulling a black peasant blouse over her head, she notices a strange fog sitting on the water outside her cabin windows. At this time of year, it’s extremely odd, and anything odd usually means there’s a problem.

  ​She slides into her boots, attaches her waterskin to her side, and breaks into a run for Nol’s quarters. She passes some crew who are moving quickly; they seem to have orders of some kind. Shea races to get to Nol, so she can take the elixir, and get up top to find out what’s going on. She turns the last corner, finally making it to the right hall. She’s just about at Nol’s door when she looks toward the end of the hall, where Poseidon and Beck’s room is, Caen’s regular quarters, and sees the door open.

  ​She expects to see Poseidon, but to her surprise she sees Caen—and in a state of mild undress. His vest his draped over his forearm, leaving him bare-chested in only boots and his leather pants. His back is facing her, and he seems to be talking to someone inside the room.

  ​She takes a step forward to find out who he’s talking to when her father appears at the door in a similar state.

  His hair is a mess, and his chest is also bare.

  Her eyes widen as her father sidles up to Caen, positioning himself in his arms, and Caen actually chuckles, smiling.

  Shea feels her heart beating faster, shaking her head. This doesn’t make sense.

  Then Caen leans down, his hands moving to Poseidon’s white hair, entangling in the curly strands, and he kisses him deeply. Poseidon returns the kiss with a grin.

  Shea stumbles back, her entire world turning upside down. She doesn’t understand. All thoughts of Nol and why she’s here fly from her head.

  They break the kiss, and Poseidon’s eyes wander over Caen’s face with amusement before flickering down the hall, catching Shea in his gaze.

  His eyes widen dramatically; they look the same shade as Shea’s, she notes hysterically, as he opens his mouth, saying something.

  Caen stiffens, and he turns down the hall to find what Poseidon’s staring at.

  Shea, seemingly frozen, hasn’t moved since Poseidon spotted her and she meets Caen’s eyes as he turns.

  His face goes from relaxed to horrified, and he steps immediately out of Poseidon’s embrace, moving toward her, but Shea takes a step back.

  Her eyes are burning, and she’s not crying—she feels angry. Confused. And she doesn’t want to know why just yet.

  Caen starts walking toward her and Shea turns and runs away like a coward.

  She can hear him calling her name, but she doesn’t listen. She keeps running until she makes it to the stairs leading up to the main deck, taking the steps two at a time.

  She breaks through the double doors and coughs as she inhales a large amount of smoke, not mist. There’s smoke everywhere, and she finds most of the crew staring off the starboard side of the ship.

  Triton is hanging off the mast rope ladder in a way Shea has done so many times before. He’s got his head bowed and he seems to be whispering something to himself.

  Beck is on his knees, both his hands in his hair, openly crying at the view before them.

  Jo has a hand on his shoulder, comforting him, but she looks almost as upset as he is.

  ​Shea turns and looks, really looks,
at what they’re all staring at and her mouth dries.

  ​Oceanus is gone.

  ​They’re sailing past the wreckage of it all. The once colorful markets, and varying stone buildings of the capital, lie in ruins. The capital coliseum is missing an entire wall. The docks of Metis are burnt to a crisp, what’s visible is black and gnarled with burning embers, the rest is in the shallows of the ocean. But the worst part of all is the silence. There’s no screams, no cries, no pleading.

  Oceanus has been conquered.

  ​Perses actually did it; he helped Ceto wipe Oceanus from existence, and Shea knows that if they don’t stop them, they’ll do the same to Arethusa.

  ​She feels a hand on her shoulder and turns sharply to find Caen staring at her with a woeful expression. She wants to lean into his hand, the comfort she’s sought so many times, but the kiss between him and Poseidon flashes before her eyes, and she pulls away.

  ​He’s visibly hurt by the action, but Shea doesn’t have time to deal with his feelings.

  Suddenly the reality of the situation seeps in and she wonders how long her ship has been sitting here, mourning the city, yes, but also perfectly in the open. For all they know the Lycon army, the Merrow, Ceto, and Perses could still be there, now watching them from afar and getting ready to strike.

  ​“James!” Shea shouts, and her bos’n comes running from the bow.

  ​She sees Aster at the rail, and he turns at her voice. No one’s driving her bloody ship. She lets her frustrations fuel her. She has to be the leader right now, which means she needs to be as cold as her enemy is.

  ​“Are we waiting to be blown from the water?” Shea growls.

  ​James, who has come to attention before her, seems shocked by her aggression, and that won’t do. She’s gotten soft, and if she’s going to win a war? If she’s going to save her people, she needs to be the reason the Veiled Duchess was the most feared ship in all of Nereid.

  ​“No, Captain,” Caen answers for him, switching into quartermaster mode, and that Shea can deal with.

  ​The crew has turned, watching the exchange.

  Beck is still staring out at his lost home, but Jo has turned to face her, her features also looking surprised at Shea’s sudden harsh tone.