by Skye, Sariah
“Shit, Xan!” I felt the tension and fire of the orgasm build and just barely hold off as he swirled the tip of his tongue nearly tauntingly around the swollen bud, plunged fingers inside me and massaged the tense bundle of nerves deepest inside, and switched; tongue plunging inside, fingers massaging all the neediest places between my legs. When my body completely tensed and orgasm was imminent… he stopped. I cried out with frustration and fisted the sheets under me.
Tauntingly, Xander sat up and rose to his knees, pushing down and kicking off his pants and underwear, revealing his incredibly hard cock that he took in his hand, and smirking at me with that goddamned cocky-ass smirk, he stroked himself gently.
Now I sat up, barely able to breathe, barely able to contain the blood from rushing and boiling the desire through my veins, narrowing my eyes at him. “Now you’re going to jerk off? After doing—well what you just did? I was so fucking close, Xan!” I protested.
The tip of Xander’s tongue skated over his bottom lip and he sucked in a deep breath and he stroked himself rather hard, eliciting a deep moan that fluttered his eyes shut briefly. He opened one, and grinned. “Just making sure.”
“Sure?”
“That I’m hard enough, and you’re ready enough.” Releasing himself he positioned himself over the top of me once more, like a push up, and with his knees urged my legs further apart—and in one quick, swift movement drilled himself inside me. I cried out at the sudden sensation of being tense and completely full from hilt to brim—but it wasn’t unpleasant. At all. In fact it was exactly what I craved after being sexually teased by my favorite bad-ass storm-wielder.
With a finger he tipped my head to the side, exposing my throat, and he sought out the pulse point with his tongue and teeth, nipping and sucking tensely as he slowly began to thrust. Everything was so tense and just below the boiling point again, it was beautiful torture. I rocked my hips to meet his, curling my legs around his waist and drawing him in further. He moaned gruffly in my ear and obliged me by quickening his pace that grew exponentially as fast as the last one, the new angle had my clit rubbing against him just right.
“Oh god, Xan… feels so damned good,” I panted as he rocked with a steady pace inside me, digging my fingers into his shoulders harder and a bit harder again with each thrust that brought me closer to heavenly oblivion.
“Yes, dearest, you feel perfect. So perfect,” Xander crooned out in his deep, throaty timbre that made me shiver, the vibration shaking through me like a shot of whiskey. He paused for just a moment, grazing the very tips of his fingers over my cheekbone, his touch barely that of a butterfly’s caress as he regarded me with such love in his eyes I felt it in the depths of my soul. “I love you endlessly, you know that, Ava dearest, right?”
I nodded slowly, bringing my own hand to his rough cheek, pausing just for a moment to brush my fingers over his simple but meaningful tattoos. “I do. I love you too, Xan. Promise.”
“That’s good… real good.” He beamed down at me before tipping his head to the side and taking my lips in a consuming, hungry kiss. My fingers tangled into his dark hair as he continued to rock his hips and thrust inside me with intensity.
“Oh god, Xan… close… so close…” I gasped out, feeling my release near the surface.
“Good, my love. Just let go…” He purred in my ear over and over until I shook and with a long, loud moan, I felt my orgasm break the surface and I completely shattered around him. With a rough thrust, Xander growled into my neck and I felt him tense and release himself.
I didn’t dare open my eyes because I was sure the room would be a mess of Avalon mist and sparkle spinning and swirling, and I didn’t think I could take that much more stimulation. Every damned nerve ending was charged, like a small current of electricity ran throughout me, heightening each sensation. And with his magic? It probably was.
Slowly, I opened one and flinched, a small bolt of blue lightning actually swirled around us, between us and linked us together, mixing with the golden strings of the Avalon magic. It was…beautiful to say the least. His magic, my magic, joining together and becoming something otherworldly and amazing. Just like him…
Xander’s lips found mine after he panted and gasped for air, catching them in an absolutely tender and affectionate kiss. He didn’t pull away when he said, “I love you so much Ava. Please don’t forget that.”
“After that,” I started to say, between raspy breaths, “how could I?”
Xander laughed gently, and slumped his weight over me, still half-hard, buried inside. Even though I was probably a mess of sweat and cum from the both of us, I still appreciated the connection. After tonight, it felt so good—euphoric, like heaven—being so connected with him, and he anchored me down to earth and reminded me I wasn’t alone. And probably never would be. I dared to open my eyes, surprised that he was staring straight at me, his eyes had shifted from crimson to a… gentle rose color around the irises? I’d not seen that before, and I asked:
“Oh,” Xander replied, still gasping for control of his breath, “I guess that’s… love.”
I grinned slowly. “Yeah? I didn’t know it had a color.”
“Of course it does. I think… none of us have ever seen it, but we heard it existed. We see it in each other when we talk about you, you know,” he said with a gentle wink.
“Yeah?” I asked, blinking the prickles of emotional tears that wanted to fall. I shook lightly under him, still reeling from the intense and pleasurable release, and Xander reached down and pulled the purple comforter over us.
“Yes. Which is why I know it’ll all be okay,” Xander replied, gazing over me and pushing my sweaty hair out of my forehead and back over my ear. “When it comes to love, dearest, you make it possible. You make everything that was once impossible, possible. And it’s all because of you.”
I smiled at him lazily, wrapped my arms around him and drew him into me. He buried his face in my neck, murmuring things in his native Chinese that sounded quite nice and promissory. I’d actually started to recognize a few of them, like “love”, “promise”, “forever”, and “heart.” The rest was a blur but it didn’t matter. I knew that if he said it, it was good. And things would be okay. They would always be okay.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lachlan
So. Cold.
Like a drowned, weak flower in a torrential rainstorm, I cowered in the corner of the dark, damp cell I was held in; knees drawn up to my chest and arms wrapped around them, trying to draw every last bit of warmth inside me out before I succumbed to the cold and the madness of the shadow infection.
It’d been around a full day since Mordred administered the last healing draught. He had said he would return but that he hadn’t, meant there was trouble. Now what flipped through my mind was panic; that something had happened to Ava and the incubi to prevent him from returning. Panic, and trying to will myself awake when I wanted so badly to fall asleep and end my torment.
The sickening green-tinged blackness had moved up my arm, over my shoulder and neared my chest and heart, which wasn’t good. At times my pulse was so shallow I could barely keep my eyes open; other times my mind was able to power through and keep with it.
But, everything was looking bleak. Nimue knew exactly what she was doing when she scratched me and took my blood. And when she said, “Two down, one to go…” what did that mean? Did that mean she had gotten to Ava? And who was left, then? Were there others? Besides Rhys, I couldn’t tell who besides the witches would have had such a strong tie with Avalon. I didn’t care for Merlin much, but even I didn’t want him to befall this torment.
I shivered violently as a draft wafted down the stone corridor and through the cell. I slunk back into the corner as far as I could, hoping somehow to escape it. No such luck.
The sound of a rock skidding across the stone ground would have made me jump, had I had enough energy to jump. But as it were, I barely had enough energy to keep breathing. All I could do was rema
in trapped in my mind, remembering my failures in life, and there were so many.
Falling for someone else’s wife, no matter what blessing we were given, failing to protect my son from a horrid fate—because if he felt anything like this when he passed? Nothing short of torture.
For failing to properly care for Ava. I should have done whatever it took to get her out of Morgaine’s clutches. I should have owned up to everything I did—even though now I knew Nadina didn’t deserve my apologies—and just taken her away, and hid. There were dozens upon dozens of supernatural safe havens all around the world; we could have taken solace there and no one would have ever been the wiser. Meaning, Morgaine. But I didn’t do any of it. Why?
“Because I’m a fucking coward…” I barely managed to utter, my breath forming a cloud of frozen vapor in front of me.
“You are many things, but coward, you are not.”
Slowly, I turned my head to the familiar voice. It was familiar but… not. I blinked into the darkness but could see very little besides perhaps a shadow of a man before the iron bars of the cell.
“The hell?” I managed to utter most weakly, as a squeak and a loud banging noise rang throughout the dungeon… and miracle of all miracles, the cell door was opened.
“Are you…?” I stammered, wincing as I pressed my hands to the cold ground in an attempt to push myself up. Swallowing nervously, which was unusual for me because of all the feelings I ever felt, nervousness wasn’t one of them. Truth be told, I was too cocky for that… I almost thought that besides Percival, that had to of been a pre-requisite for being a Round Table knight. Percival was too good for all of us… which made me ask, “Percival?”
The shadow seemed to shake its head, just once. I blinked, slowly lifting my hand to my eyes, rubbing whatever confusion I could out of them, when a vial was tossed down to me. I gasped, realizing it was one of Mordred’s healing draughts. Mordred apparently had some alchemy skills, he had said the last time I met with him—the only time.
Gingerly, I grabbed the vial, pulled the cork out with my teeth, spat it on the ground and proceeded to spill it slowly all over the affected area, the second the liquid hit my diseased skin I breathed the longest of sighs. A pain I didn’t fully realize I was feeling subsided, along with the chills and the overall desperate feeling I had. While I hadn’t eaten or had water in a while, some of my strength returned; at least all that I could have without eating or drinking.
“You must go.” The shadow seemed to reach out an appendage—it appeared to be like a black, armored hand. Carefully I took it, and with strength, the metallic rattle of steel armor and the careful tug of an arm, I was lifted to my feet.
“Who are you?” I asked, bewildered, struggling to brush some of the hay and vermin filth off of my clothing that had accumulated.
“An ally. I cannot say.”
Still…that voice. So familiar yet… not. It was… altered somehow. Probably with a potion from the same place he took Mordred’s healing draught from. Perhaps he was sent by him? I didn’t know.
I eyed the shadow carefully; he appeared to be every bit one of Arthur’s knights, except that the armor was oxidized, black in the centers of each plate, spreading out to a dark blue and a hint of copper like it had been burned. I peered into the helmeted face, but somehow it was veiled, and I flinched in a daze, not able to focus. Must have been another spell.
“Wait until the moon has shifted three paces, and then use your magic to leave. Do not hesitate in the castle—just go.”
“I… thank you.” I managed to sputter, nodding slowly.
He inclined his head once, and swiftly with a clank and rattle he disappeared down the corridor, leaving me alone to anxiously wait the fifteen or so minutes until the moon moved closer toward its setting stage. With a weak attempt, I pulled the magic in me out, and slowly moved through the corridor, past the other corridors full of deceased or nearly deceased prisoners that I couldn’t even move to think about right now. Their fate was sealed, unfortunately. Hopefully after all this was over we’d give them a proper burial. But now? If I didn’t get out of here there’d be no one left to bury them.
The heavy doors to the dungeon were left open, and I slid out and into the loud corridor of the castle, to the hustle and bustle of the servants preparing a meal for the day. From the scent I thought it was roasted game hen and fresh bread; I practically salivated and headed for the kitchens, waiting for someone to open the door so I could slide in.
Keeping hidden, I managed to swipe several poultry legs, a hunk of bread, and a mug of goat’s milk, extending my magic over them as well and I took them into the corner to consume.
The New Avalon Rebel encampment was quite a trek away. If I was going to make it, I’d need sustenance. And a whole lot of luck. The draught would only last about a day and with no one from Avalon to heal me, I probably wouldn’t make it there. But there was one way to make sure they hurried… if I took the dire risk of getting there.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mathias
The problem with super strength was at times it was hard to find things to channel the anger. Running didn’t help, lifting weights didn’t help. I’d tried, there was no set of weights heavy enough to challenge me. And, when pissed off as I was now, they were little more than lifting a feather.
“Goddammit,” I muttered, clutching the metal dumbbell in my hands, squeezing the steel so hard, it bent under my hands, and the weights I hadn’t fastened correctly slid off and fell to the ground. Specifically, my foot.
Anyone else, that’d mean shattered bones. Me? Felt like nothing. I kicked resentfully at the weights, wishing desperately for some sort of place to channel this fucking rage I couldn’t get rid of.
In Rome after a fight, we’d be slicked down with oil and paraded around to all the wealthy senators and their wives, required to put on a “show” for their entertainment. Rome was no stranger to sex and debauchery, and it would be the norm for me to be urged to sleep with whoever paid the highest price. After all, what better way to celebrate murdering someone in cold blood is by fucking someone’s brains out, right? And, I meant whoever. I’d been “encouraged” to sleep with wives, sisters, groups, and men. Even men that I shared a dirty, dingy cell with because someone wanted to watch and paid enough for the “privilege.” It didn’t feel terrible, but not my preference. Anything was better than blood and gore. But, I’d have to turn around the next day and kill them, so that made it torturous.
Sometimes I still didn’t know how I lived through all of that. Or, maybe I did. I had hope that somehow, somewhere, there was something out there able to change my life. That there was something better. I didn’t realize at the time it’d take two-thousand years and it would lie in one damned person but…
Ava. Damn… I felt my mind internally scream, stuck somewhere between absolute terror and regret, and frustration and anger. Right now, anger was winning out. I carried the diamond pendant that we all purchased for Ava as a promise to make her a permanent part of our lives in my hand, squeezing it in my grip, grimacing when the diamond would cut into my skin. Not because it hurt, but because it was a reminder of what had happened and how unsure I felt about everything now.
All you have to do is go upstairs and tell her you forgive her. But no matter how I struggled, I just couldn’t. Like a mental wall was blocking me from acting my heart’s wishes.
“Fuck…” I grumbled, kicking at the barbell that I’d tossed on the floor that I’d damaged. It was no good to me now. I went back to the treadmill to work off some of my frustration, knowing it probably wouldn’t help.
After I’d run for a while, I grabbed the towel I slung over the handle of the treadmill and I swiped it over my forehead and face, wiping down the drips of perspiration that continued to form. I glanced down at the display and scowled. I’d run about eight miles in this short time at top speed, and even though I was breathing hard and sweating like a damned pig, I still couldn’t get rid of the fury and rag
e that rattled my mind. Even after fighting and combatting with the guys I was still full of ire.
How could she do that? To me? To us? To go off half-cocked and risk her damned life for a bunch of witches. Ridiculous.
We didn’t deserve this. We didn’t.
Wait… why was I thinking that? I didn’t really feel that way! Any loss of life was terrible. I… My addled thoughts were interrupted as I suddenly began feeling a sharp pain in my head. I paused the belt and leaned over, smacking my forehead with the heel of my palm; like hitting it was going to make the pain go away. Of course it won’t, idiot…
Taking a deep breath, I tried will it away… and when it had dulled enough so I could go on, I pressed the button to increase the incline and started it up again.
“Well damn. Isn’t that a sight?”
I nearly lost my footing and fell face forward when I turned and noticed that in a puff of smoke, Rhys had appeared in the basement nearby, carrying a—something—and looking quite smug.
“Goddamn you, Merlin! Are you trying to kill me?” I demanded angrily, ripping the safety switch off the machine and stopping it immediately. I leapt off and started for him, fist in the air.
Rhys nonchalantly waved his hand in the air, rolling his eyes dismissively and I found myself completely immobile except for my eyes and breath; the anger boiled inside me. “If I must, that’s what I’ll do, you ignorant incubus.”