Immortal Flame (The Excalibur Duet Book 2)

by Kim Loraine

  She sucks in a sharp breath and takes her lower lip between her teeth before nodding. “Do you want me to magic it away?”

  “Don’t you dare. I’ll enjoy the pleasure of unlacing your corset too much to waste your magic on that.” Lust clouds my thoughts as she starts up the stairs and I follow. When we reach the door, I press her up to the wood and roll my hips against hers. “Do you see what you do to me? I’ve been in a constant state of need for you since you walked into the pub that first night.”

  “That’s…different from how you were in our first life.”

  I back away, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. I’d been so in love with my most trusted knight I hadn’t been able to be a true husband to her without thinking of him. “I’ve wanted you every moment I’ve known you as this version of myself.”

  “And how do you feel about Lance?”

  “It’s…confusing.”

  “But you want me now?”

  Lust hits me hard. “Fuck, yes I do.”

  “Then give me the wedding night we deserve.”

  Chapter Five

  Brooks

  The room is small but comfortable, with a large four-poster bed in the center of the far wall. Soft white drapes fall from a canopy, pooling on the floor and making it seem as though the bed is in the clouds. An open door on one side of the room leads to a washroom with a large soaking tub visible. The fae might wear clothing that’s more suited for medieval times, but they still have modern amenities, and right now, I couldn’t be more thankful for that. There’s a bottle and two glasses on the small round table near the stained-glass window depicting, ironically enough, the Lady holding a sword.

  “Drink?” I ask, nerves getting the better of me.

  Gwen shakes her head, eyes only for me. “You mentioned something about taking off my dress.”

  My mouth runs dry at the thought. “Turn around for me,” I say. She does, her dark hair falling in glossy waves down her back obscuring my view of the laces on her corset. When I brush the locks over one shoulder, she shivers and lets out a soft moan.

  “Everything is so…heightened. I feel like I’ll come apart with barely more than your touch.”

  That’s the drink talking. We’ve both had more than our share of the golden elixir everyone was enjoying tonight. “Are you sure you want to do this? If you’re not sober we should—”

  She stops me by spinning around and stealing my words with her lips. Her hands slide over my chest and up until her fingers play in my hair. Her tongue presses into my mouth, the sweet flavor of the drink still lingering there. Then her fingers leave my hair and trail down until she’s working at the clasps holding my vest closed. Her kiss deepens when I cup the back of her neck and pull her closer, taking control and claiming what I want.

  With panting breaths against my mouth, she finally pulls away and stares at me. “I need you. I need you to keep this ache at bay.”

  Her words break my heart because they echo my feelings. My vest falls to the wood floor and she reaches for my tunic, pulling the fabric over my head in a smooth movement despite our considerable height difference. Gwen stares at my bare torso and the hunger in her gaze helps ease some of my fears that it won’t be me she’s thinking of when I’m inside her. She runs her fingers over the ridges of my abdomen, and hums.

  “Not a mark on you,” she whispers.

  “I’m a fast healer.”

  I shudder with pleasure when her nails brush over my hip as she tucks her fingers under the waistband of my breeches. “You like that?” she asks.

  “Fuck, yes I do. Your touch makes me crazy.”

  She runs her palm over the front of my pants and over my aching erection. “I think you’d better see to your duty, husband. I am quite clothed while you are not.”

  Grabbing her shoulders, I spin her around and scoop her into my arms. She squeals with delight and I stride to the bed, not caring that I said I wanted to undress her. I need to be inside her, right the fuck now. I shove her skirt up until she’s bared to me, her cunt is pink and perfect, glistening with arousal. “You’re lovely, Gwen. More beautiful than I imagined.”

  Her cheeks go red and she tries to close her legs. “You imagined what I’d look like?”

  “I spent every night fantasizing about having you. It nearly killed me to know you gave yourself to Lance.”

  She takes her lower lip between her teeth and averts her gaze. “I’m not apologizing for that.”

  I shake my head and drop to my knees. “I don’t want you to.” Kissing her inner thigh, I work my way closer to her slit. “But I want to ensure you never forget who you have between your thighs.”

  My tongue slides over her folds before swirling around the hard bundle of nerves I know will make her moan. And she does. Her back arches and her fingers tangle in my hair with every pass I make over her clit. “Oh, holy God, Brooks.”

  Yes. She’ll fucking call my name over and over tonight and when I spend myself inside her, it will be her name on my lips, not Lance’s. He’s gone. I’ll never have him. And neither will she.

  I shove my breeches down over my hips and free my throbbing length. After a few cursory strokes, I line myself up with her warm, inviting entrance and press forward. I’m not small, but she is, so I take it nice and slow, loving her low moan. Heat and pressure envelop my cock, making me gasp at the sparks of pleasure racing through me.

  “You’re so damn small,” I say through gritted teeth. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, please don’t stop.”

  Her nails dig into my ass, the slight pain urging me on. I sink deep into her, as far as I can go, and slowly drag myself out. Over and over I fill her and torture us both with my slow pace. She’s writhing under me, wrapping her legs around my waist, begging for more. Her gown is a cloud of gossamer around her hips, but now I wish I’d taken the time to remove it.

  “Take off the dress, Gwen. I need to see you.”

  She cries out as I thrust hard and fast into her. But in a flash, her perfect body is bared to me. Full, round breasts tipped with rosy pink nipples beckon. I want to suck and bite and mark her as mine.

  Then she wraps her arms around me and pulls me down for a languid kiss. Our tongues dance and she rolls her hips, fucking me, taking what she needs.

  “I’m coming,” she says on a harsh whisper. Her body clenches around me as her orgasm takes control of her body. She cries my name and my own climax threatens on the verge of taking me by storm.

  “Fuck, Gwen. I’m there,” I moan, my thrusts growing erratic.

  A panicked gasp escapes her and she says, “Pull out. You have to pull out.”

  I don’t understand why, but I do what she asks, pulling my throbbing cock free just in time to paint her belly with ribbons of my release. My eyes roll back as the pleasure takes hold and pulses through me.

  After my climax recedes, I stare down at the evidence of our consummation. “Why did you ask me to pull out?”

  “I…now’s not the time for a child.” Her cheeks go pink and she looks down at my seed on her skin.

  “But, you always told me you were barren. We couldn’t have children no matter what…methods we tried.” Then I shake my head. I’m so stupid. She’s been reborn at least thirty times since our life together. But then I see the guilt in her eyes.

  “It wasn’t…I wasn’t—”

  “Wait. You mean to tell me you could’ve borne children? With me? With Lancelot? Why then? Why didn’t it happen?” I back away from her and pull up my breeches.

  She stands and strides to the bathroom. I hear the water running and when she returns she’s clad in a short silk nightgown that hits her mid-thigh.

  “Gwen, you’re not answering me.”

  “I’d taken certain steps to ensure I’d never get pregnant while we were married.”

  My stomach turns to stone. “Explain.”

  “My curse ensured I’d die at twenty-seven. There was no way I’d willingly bring a child into thi
s world knowing I’d leave her alone.”

  “But you had Lancelot between your legs anyway? Even though you knew my reasoning for putting the two of you together was to make a child?”

  She blinks hard and tears spill down her cheeks. “Would you have understood? Tell me you would have during that time in the world, when witchcraft was punishable by death.”

  I drag a hand through my hair and let out a frustrated growl. “So your choice to be with Lancelot, that was truly because you wanted him? Not because I threw you together.”

  A frown furrows her brow. “I agreed to be with him while you watched us in hopes of giving you what you needed. Both of us.” She takes my hand and places it over her heart. “I only wanted you to have the love you desired. I know better than anyone what it feels like to love someone you can’t have.”

  “And yet, you’ve had the love of us both, while I haven’t been so fortunate.” I take my hand off her chest and walk to the bathroom, needing a shower, needing time away from her.

  “Brooks,” she calls, but I ignore her, closing the door behind me. She might be my wife, but we are both still his.

  Gwen

  Brooks doesn’t come out of the bathroom for a very long time. The shower water ran for close to an hour before it shut off, and after conjuring him some clothes to sleep in, I dimmed the lights and curled up on my side facing away from the door. I’ve hurt him already.

  The bed dips as my husband joins me, his heat comforting even through my betrayal. Then I feel a brush of lips on my shoulder before he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me close, his palm resting over my womb. “I’m sorry. I understand why you made the choices you did, and we can’t change the past. We’ll have a child when we’re both ready.”

  My heart swells and I snuggle against him, letting the feel of his breaths soothe me until I drift to sleep.

  My dream is familiar, our royal bedchamber, stone walls and floors, a brightly burning fire in the hearth, rich fabric tapestries and curtains covering windows to keep out the draft.

  I’m on the bed, my robe parted, my legs trembling in anticipation of what’s to come as Lancelot and Arthur enter by way of one of the secret entrances. Lance’s eyes hold a hint of desperate need, but most of what I see is anxiety.

  “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asks Arthur.

  “An heir. I need an heir.”

  My traitorous body responds to Lancelot’s gaze as it drifts over my form. The lust in his expression is undeniable. My focus flicks to Arthur, his cock hard in his breeches, but he’s not watching me. He may be my king—my husband, but he’s at the mercy of the man he wants.

  “Come into me, my champion,” I say, needing to break the tension in the room. “Our king will watch and take his pleasure after the deed is done.” My nipples ache for his attention, and when Lancelot swallows and steps forward, my body responds with a curl of desire between my legs.

  Lancelot removes his clothing slowly, attention on me as Arthur watches from the side of the bed. “Shall I follow your orders, my king?” he asks Arthur.

  My husband shakes his head. “Have your way. I want to see you bring her pleasure.”

  I moan and rub my thighs together as need builds.

  My knight’s erection is thick and long, the bead of moisture shining at the tip, tempting and a clear indication of exactly how he feels about this situation. “Part your thighs, my queen,” he says, his voice hoarse.

  Then he’s pushing inside, my slick entrance ready for him from his presence alone. His blue eyes never leave mine as he fills me over and over, but a shuddering breath from beside us steals my attention. Arthur’s hand moves over his own length, a look of tortured pleasure on his face. But now he doesn’t look like Arthur. He’s Brooks. And a burning desire runs through me at the thought of him stroking himself while Lancelot fucks me.

  An orgasm builds between my legs as Lancelot continues to thrust, and he swells as his breaths come harsh and fast. Then his head snaps toward Brooks, and I watch the two of them stare at each other. Brooks’ free hand is on Lance’s shoulder, knuckles white with tension and the two men groan simultaneously as each finds his release. Lance inside me, Brooks across his own chest.

  I wake still on the edge of pleasure, my heart racing at the combined memory of the past and vision of the future. Because that’s exactly how this felt. It wasn’t a dream. It was a vision. But Lancelot is gone. How can that be possible?

  “Gwen, what’s the matter?” Brooks asks, pulling me close.

  I shake my head, not knowing how to tell him what I just saw. “It was just a dream. Go back to sleep. It’s early, yet.”

  He nestles my body against his and layers soft kisses over my shoulder and neck until his breathing slows but I can’t sleep, not now. I watch the stained glass window change colors as the sky grows brighter and noises below us let me know the village is waking up after a long night of celebrating. Tomorrow is Beltane. There will be more revelry, and perhaps after seeing the Lady, we’ll be able to take our leave without getting dragged into the festival.

  “Brooks,” I murmur, shaking him gently. “Wake up. We need to see the Lady.”

  He groans and pulls me tighter to him. “Not yet.”

  I laugh and slip out of his grasp. “I’m going to have a shower. Then you need to get up.”

  A soft hum of acknowledgment is all I get, but I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the water, watching as the room fills with steam. The scent of lemongrass fills the air and I take a deep breath. Last night, I could’ve sworn Brooks smelled of Lavender when he came to the bed.

  The hot water eases some of my tension, but I can’t get my vision out of my mind. Is Lancelot alive? I saw him, more to the point, I felt him and it was as real as it could be. But my visions have led me astray once before when it came to him. I wonder how much I can trust my gift when my heart is involved.

  I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a large towel just as Brooks walks into the bathroom, sweatpants low on his hips, his bulge prominent and enticing.

  “Sleep well?” I ask.

  “I did. You in my arms does wonders for my dreams, Gwen.”

  I stiffen at the mention of dreams. “What did you dream about?”

  His cheeks turn pink, and when I glance down his body, I see the outline of his cock pressing hard and thick against his pants. “You.”

  “Anything else?” I press. “Anyone else?”

  “Lance.” He drags a hand over his stubbled jaw and sighs. “I dreamt of the time we three were together. Only this time, I touched him as I brought myself off.”

  My stomach twists. We’d shared a dream. It wasn’t a vision at all. It was shared desire, a fantasy the two of us walked through together. “I had the same dream.”

  “Fuck,” he whispers. “Do you think he’s still—”

  “No. We tried to summon him. We tried to find him. He is gone.”

  “But if he’s alive—”

  An ache forms in my chest and I hold up a hand. “Stop. I can’t talk about something that’s not possible. I can’t have married you if he’s alive. I can’t do that to him again.”

  “But things are different now. The three of us—”

  “Stop it. Just st—”

  He pulls me to him and crushes his lips to mine. The kiss calms my racing heart and reminds me that Brooks loves me, that things are different. I have him, and I want him.

  I pull away and whisper an incantation, clothing myself in something appropriate for this world. Obviously Brooks approves because his lips turn up in a wicked grin.

  “You look like you stepped out of a movie.”

  “Thank you,” I say, giving a little curtsey.

  “Oh, don’t do that. Your tits are far too enticing to be on display like that.”

  I can’t help it. I giggle. “You’ll just have to contain yourself.”

  “Thank God the tunic you gave me is long enough. It’ll help conceal the effect you h
ave on me. Because I’ve been walking around half-hard since you let me kiss you that first time.”

  He follows me into the living room and gathers his clothes, dressing quickly before attaching his sword belt. Excalibur gleams in the light and I watch his posture change as he sheaths the sword. He’s stronger for having it. More confident. More powerful.

  “Shall we have a bite to eat before we visit the Lady?” he asks.

  My stomach growls at the mention of food. “Yes.”

  He takes my hand and we leave the room, our connection humming between us. The handfasting spell did something to strengthen our bond. I can feel him, his emotions, as though they’re my own. Right now, he’s battling confusion.

  Lisola greets us at the bottom of the stairs with concern etching her brow. “You have to go. The beasts know you’re here.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve saddled two horses for you. They know the way to the lake. Let them take you to the safety of the Lady. She’ll keep you protected. The moon is full tonight and the beasts won’t stop until they get through the barrier.”

  Fear claws at my throat. “But what will you do?”

  She grins. “We fight.”

  Chapter Six

  Gwen

  It feels wrong to be leaving this village when we are the cause of the beasts’ attention. We sit astride two gleaming white steeds, their coats shining in the sun. It’s been lifetimes since I’ve ridden a horse, but it isn’t a skill easily forgotten. My gown flows around me, slits up the sides giving me the freedom to ride without needing to sit side-saddle.

  “Haven’t been on a horse in…I can’t say how long,” Brooks says, shifting in his seat.

  “It’ll come back to you.”

  For hours our mounts take us along the shore until we reach a cave filled with water and mist. The horses stop at the water’s edge and Brooks dismounts, offering me his hand as I do the same. He doesn’t release my hand while we approach the cave, but tension rolls off him with every step. I have to admit, unease curls in my belly as well. As soon as we left the safe haven of the village, I felt eyes on me.