by Skye, Sariah
Trystan lapsed into a string of Gaelic that was incredibly low and sultry, lowering himself slightly to pay homage to my breasts; kissing and licking over the full mounds, barely grazing under the fabric and taunting the skin there. Without trying to, my legs began to wobble some, as my brain and body completely began to be taken over with the haze of lust, and I slumped against the wall, sighing outwardly.
“Nope, none of that.” My eyes had slid shut, enjoying the feel of his lips on my sensitive breasts, and my head fell to one side when he clamped his hand under my chin, and brought my gaze upward. “I know you’re scared and frazzled but you don’t have to be with me.”
“I know…” I replied quietly. “I just—”
Before I could finish my statement his mouth crashed into mine. We were a tangle of teeth and tongues and breathy moans as my mind floated completely away from isles, wars, witches, and demons.
I felt his long arms reach across my upper body, mess with the clasp on the back, and swiftly pull it off, tossing it aside. His hands wasted no time seeking them out as he kissed me feverishly until I moaned, melting into him.
“Yes, luv. Just like that…” Trystan said, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch my heavy gaze with his. “Just let go…” One of his hands smoothed over my stomach, leaving in its path a wake of trembles and gooseflesh before he found the lace of my purple panties, and promptly dipped lower, between my legs. He grinned, obviously liking what he found there. “These are wet, luv. You really should get these off.”
Pursing my lips in a smirk, I kept my eyes tracked on his stare, and bent over to shove them down and aside. “It’s your fault, eagle-man.”
Trystan grinned at me devilishly. “Aye, I’ll take credit for that.”
“Of course you will. Perv.” I said with a snicker.
“You like that, though,” he insisted, sliding a finger between my legs, over my clit. I breathed in sharply and bucked against his hand. “Don’t you?” He asked again, more forcefully this time.
“Yes. Yes I …oh hell…” I slumped against him, totally forgetting my words, thoughts or anything sensible right about now, especially as he slipped a finger inside, quickly finding the spot that needed it the most and I cried out sharply. “Oh shit…”
“Anyone ever tell you you swear too much?” Trystan kidded.
“Fuck you,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.
He paused all movement, and his gorgeous face pinched into an expression of thought. “You know what? I think I will.” He removed his hand, much to my dismay and I frowned. He clamped both of his hands on my shoulders, spun me around, and backed me up against his bed, and stood over me until I fell onto it. Willingly, might I add, especially with his fuck-me stare, as he quickly pulled his shirt over and off. Trystan was amazing—always. Broad shoulders, wide-chest, with thick arms and biceps; not so much as Mathias because he was inhuman, but enough to be quite damn intimidating to those who didn’t know him. The winged ink on his chest and forearms was about the best part, though, simply because it was so… him. I always loved tracing my fingers over it, and I wasted no time doing so just now. I half expected him to fight me on it, but for a moment he relinquished his control as I swooped gentle fingertips over the outlines of the ink. But it didn’t last long, eventually his handsome features clenched, and he gripped my wrists, pulling them away. “Lassie, keep that up and I’ll not last long at all.”
I shrugged. “There’s always next time.”
Trystan’s full lips twisted into a smirk. “Oh, there will always be a next time, luv.”
“Smart ass.”
“Aye. It’s true.” Trystan’s smirk faded into a more serious, heated expression. Both of his hands were on either side of my head and he lowered himself—his entire, rock-hard body—just enough so his chest was barely grazing my hard, taut nipples. I bit my lip, pangs of desire shooting straight through me again. “You want something, luv?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, I do.”
“And…” he lowered himself again until he was pressed entirely against me, his blazing skin felt like heaven against mine. He smelled wonderful—like fresh, summer air—and felt even better. His powerful thighs straddled mine, keeping my legs pinned together. He knew fully well all I wanted to do was open them up and let him in, but Trystan was going to torture me for it first. The ass. “What is it you want?”
“You. I want you.”
Trystan’s grin was seductive and smart-assed all at once; the glint in his eyes was playful, all except that tell tale crimson-rimmed irises. Chuckling lightly and somewhat evilly, he caught my mouth with his, parting my lips intently with his tongue and thrashing it against mine until I moaned loudly. He was such a damn tease, because just as soon as it began, it was over and he was moving on to nip my jawline gently, and licked a path over my neck to my ear. “And what do ye want me to do to ye?” He asked, in that insanely sexy, Scottish accent that was so thick right now it was nearly impossible to understand.
I reached out and threaded my fingers into the back of his hair as he tugged on my earlobe gently with his teeth. I let out a long moan, until he released and perched himself over me, his face directly above mine, shooting me a lust-filled stare that was so heavy and hot, I found myself trembling under him.
“I said, Ava… ‘what do you want me to do to you’?” He traced a finger over the side of my cheek, down my neck, up and around a silken nipple and down the breast, over my stomach where he paused, just above my core. My breath became shallow and rasped as I panted, hoping he would touch me there. But he just taunted like a vile, evil temptor, brushing his finger over my inner thigh.
My eyes rolled back, and shut, and I hissed, “Oh god…”
“Thanks, but ye can just call me Trystan. I’ll also respond to ‘Drystan’ and ‘man with the big dick’.”
My gaze flew open, and I smirked. “Bad…you’re just bad.” I pointed a finger, hitting him square in the nose. He cackled gently and turned his head, and ran the tip of his tongue over the length of it before sucking on it gently. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but it had me whimpering under him, especially when he ground his hardness against the top of my thigh, reminding me of what he had to offer.
“Still waiting on you to tell me what you want, luv,” Trystan said tauntingly, parting my thighs with his knees and grinding his cock, straining under his boxers to be free, against the wetness between my legs.
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me. Hard,” I demanded, my voice hoarse.
“Whatever ya say, priestess…” Remaining in a push up position, he used a hand to push down his boxers, freeing himself and kicking the boxers aside. He took his length in his hand and I groaned—feeling about ready to combust. He was so fucking hot.
And so fucking dirty.
“See… that wasn’t so…hard…” I gasped, crying out loudly as in one swift motion he pushed himself inside me, filling me close to full, and pausing a moment to allow me to adjust to the sensation. “Was it?”
“Actually…” I bit down on my lip, moaning lengthily as he pressed inside just that much further. “It actually is pretty fucking hard after all.”
Trystan laughed mischievously. “Aye, so it is, luv. So it is.”
Trystan found my lips with his, but he didn’t kiss gently. No, it was all-consuming, demanding, and heart pounding, all the while he rocked his hips against mine, that tension deep, deep inside slowly building nicely, offering me the promise of relieving some of that pent up, Avalon tension.
I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, to bring him closer, but he broke the kiss and pulled back. He paused in his thrusts to my dismay and frustration, earning him a pout and a whimper. Honestly with anyone else, I wouldn’t be like this. I’d fight, take my hands back, and give him a shove. But Trystan was different.
He was the one to break down my walls officially, because he was the one persistent enough not to take no for an answer. I assumed that how Mathias must be o
utside of home, with his business dealings. But that Mathias rarely came home.
Trystan was a jokester and a bit of a pervert—a cute one. He never pushed anyone into anything, except when it was good for them. And in the bedroom.
But he knew damn straight sex with him was very good. Very, very good.
Trystan gripped my wrists in one of his hands, and pinned them over my head to the bed. I sucked in a ragged breath as he growled gently from the back of his throat. He enjoyed this just as much as I did.
I cried out sharply when he took my leg, and wrapped it around his waist, and began to rock against me quickly and eagerly. “Damn, Ava. Ye feel fucking unreal.”
“What did you—oh fuck me…” My eyes slammed shut and rolled back into my head; he changed his angle just a bit, and I knew my release was imminent. He released my hands and bent over while he thrusted, catching my mouth again in a hot kiss that had me moaning and curling my toes. Once again I tried to reach for him, but he pushed my hands aside.
“Just let go, Avalon, luv. Just let go…” He whispered huskily into my ear, and then started in on the Gaelic. I had no idea what he was saying, but his tone and accent were molten hot and I nearly came undone. He could have been saying something like “I love it when you fall into the toilet” and I wouldn’t have cared—his accent was fucking hot.
Trystan continued to master my mind, my body, my soul until I began to buck against him, arching my back, unable to contain the pure pleasure that coursed through my veins and body. My breath caught in my throat and any time I tried to match my movements with his, he grabbed my breast, tweaked a nipple, nipped at my neck, or just stopped altogether…and then had to start all over gain.
It was beautiful, beautiful torture.
“Ye have to be close, luv. Come for me, Ava. Please… I need to feel you shatter,” he crooned into my ear. With his encouragement, I did just that. I bucked and arched against him as the tension between my legs peaked and shattered—as he requested—and shot through me like a bullet from a pistol. I cried out, clawed at his skin, panted and hollered until it peaked and subsided like high tide.
He paused, eyeing me carefully until I opened my eyes, my breath shallow. The world around spun and shimmered with the white and golden mist I’d come to associate openly with Avalon and it seriously only got cooler each and every time.
“Watching you come undone is the hottest thing ever,” Trystan said with a devious grin. Before I could utter another word he continued thrusting again, seeking his own release before I’d come down from my own, and it only made every sensation heighten more. Not able to restrain, needing to feel more, I propped myself on an elbow and threaded my fingers tightly into the auburn hair at his neck, slamming my lips into his, seeking entry and getting it when his mouth parted and his tongue dove into mine. I cursed unintelligibly into his mouth as his pace increases to near frantic pace and finally, he groaned loudly, his forehead pinching between his eyes and he bites on my shoulder.
“Christ, Avie,” he muttered, panting and wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on his brow. “I’m pretty sure that’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven with that one.”
I grinned widely, trailing a finger over the stubble on his jaw. “You say the sweetest things. I am a damn priestess after all. It’s only logical.” Trystan is still sighing and then he slumps weakly over the top of me.
“Aye, that’s right. Does my worshipping appease her eminence?” He quipped, and I giggled.
“It does, actually. I think you’re exactly what I needed tonight, Stud.” I bent at the waist to kiss him, not with sex or passion but with affection and love. “I feel so lucky to have you, you know that?”
Trystan beamed. “No, it’s I—we—who are lucky to have ye. And that’s a fact.” Reluctantly, he pulled out his spent dick and fell over to my side, gathering me in his arms until I was draped across his chest, mindlessly tracing the outlines of his feathered ink.
“Flirt,” I retorted with jest in my tone, and he just chuckled.
“This is true.” Sighing loudly, he tightened his arm over my shoulders and angled to kiss my forehead. “You know I love ya, right?”
Smiling, I glanced up at him. “I know. I love you.” He squeezed my shoulders again, and began to trace his fingers languidly over the bend of my shoulder. Concentrating on the swoops and edges of the ink I was fingering, something that comforted me often when I was with him, I sighed, and said, “Trystan?”
“Hmm, luv?”
“Do you…” I hesitated. I was still shaky and slightly weakened from our encounter, but emotional from all the thoughts raging through my mind; the thoughts I’d sought refuge from when I was with him. “Do you think we’ll get Arthur? And Nimue? And live to tell the tale?”
Without skipping a beat, he turned, eyeing me sternly. “I do.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because. Clearly all these things were set in motion for a reason. I don’t believe that fate solely brought us together just so we can kick some ass. After all the shite we’ve all been through…fate owes us. And she’s gonna deliver, too. Or I’m gonna kick fate’s arse,” he replied, determined. I snickered at the joke only…he wasn’t joking. “We’re gonna be fine, we’re going to have the life we were all meant to have.”
“And what were we meant to have?” I asked expectantly.
“The life where we were meant to be together and be a family. All of us.”
His words surprised me, even though I didn’t know why. The four of them were “brothers” long before I entered the picture. As if sensing what I was thinking, Trystan continued, “You bring us all together, Avie. We were just lost pieces of a puzzle before, now you put us together, and keep us together. Rhys might be a crazy bastard, but he has that part right.”
I flinched. Serious, introspective Trystan wasn’t someone I saw often but what I did? I loved him.
“Trystan?” I asked, after a few moments of reflective silence.
“Aye?”
“Don’t ever, ever change.” I peered into his eyes and grinned.
Chapter Five
Death.
Ruin and destruction as far as the eye could see.
It was like walking the streets of hell, blood, fire, and brimstone everywhere. Everywhere I went, death surrounded me. Still despite all our best efforts, Nimue cackled in the distance.
“Bash! What do we do? We can’t beat her!” Shouted the panicked voice of Xander, followed by the crackle and flash of lightning.
“We need Avie—where is she?” Bash called out, and that was a good question. I could see them in the distance, but why wasn’t I there with them? Instead I was out here, standing around stupidly with my sword raised, and no one coming after me… because everyone was dead. Nimue and Arthur had killed them all, including their own army. It was madness.
“What can she do? She can’t fight, she can barely master that sword!” Nimue said, evilly gleeful, shooting out her slimy dark magic, and enveloping the guys in it. I tried to let out a shriek, but nothing came out. I tried to run, but was frozen. I was useless as Nimue magically drained the life out of four of the strongest supernaturals that had ever lived. Their screams were agonizing and tortured my ears as they took their last breaths, and were flung like trash on the ground.
I wanted to yell, to scream, but I couldn’t. My mouth opened, and nothing came out.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out, either I died, or was unconscious—I didn’t care anymore at that point—were the unsettling, evil, soulless eyes of Nimue.
I’ve told you, Ava… as long as you trust me, these outcomes won’t come to fruition. You have to believe me.
My eyes flew open, half expecting to be blinded by bright, but everything was dark, save for the fire burning out in the small fireplace on the opposite side of Trystan’s room. My heart beat rapidly, sweat poured down my neck, all from the anxiety of the nightmare I just had.
I glanced to the s
ide, reassured by Trystan’s sound, sleeping beside me. I was about to curl up to him when—
“Ava?” Mathias’ voice down the hall was almost chiding as he beckoned me from down the hallway.
“Och, shite,” I said, doing my best imitation of Trystan’s Scottish accent when he knows he’s in trouble.
“What did you do, lass?” His sleepy voice asked, as he barely peeled open an eye. It must have been morning, and I’d passed out hard with the eagle-shifter, safe, sated, and secure in his warm bed, next to his hard, hot body, without a care in the world. Until now.
“I did nothing!” I said, muffling my voice under the covers as I pulled them over my head. If anything it was Mathias that should be cowering after using all my beauty products, but the tone of his voice was… strangely calm. “I just don’t want to face the world. Rhys needing birth control, thirty-something more people on the property, and oh—going to war soon! Sounds like great fun!”
“Lass… it’s gonna be fine.” Trystan’s body weight shifted and before I know it, he peeled off the covers and yanked off the pillow I buried myself under. His expression was humored, a playful smile dancing across his full, pouty damn lips. I raked my teeth over my bottom lip, thinking about where his lips where just a few hours ago; heat began to build in my crotch again. Dear god, when does this damn lusty magic ever end?
“Don’t think ye can get out of talking by playing sexy seductress, Avalon Dawson,” Trystan said, amused. “Time to face the world.”
Reluctantly, I groaned and sat up in his bed, pulling his warm comforter up to my chin. I inhale a deep, relaxing breath and immediately I’m assaulted by his scent on the blanket; fresh wind and musk and just… hotness. I started to grin slowly.
Trystan raised one auburn eyebrow. My gaze flicked over to him and I immediately regretted it. He was still naked, thick chest and strong arms on display, deliciously accented by sexy winged ink on his chest and forearms. I refused to drop my gaze further, down passed his waist, because if I did—