by Blake, Nova
And there was that feeling again, the tingle at the thought of men touching, men kissing. Each other. And me… What was going on? I needed to stay focused, on track. Complete the mission and get on with my life. Then, I could do whatever I wanted.
I shook my head, trying to clear it.
"Excellent," Killian said, getting up from the bed. He walked a circle around Thomas. "They fit even better than I imagined."
"Too tight, if you ask me," Thomas grumbled. He tossed the towel over his shoulder, as if that would do much of anything to hide his body.
"Oh, I don't know, lover," I said, moving closer to him. "I'm quite taken with those pants…" I pressed my lips to his, kissed him hard and then Killian nudged me away.
He took the towel and passed Thomas another piece of clothing. Thomas held it up and then frowned.
"A vest? What am I putting under it?"
"Nothing." Killian grinned. "The weather is mild and you need to be the most delectable thing in the room."
"But—"
"No." Killian shook his head firmly. "Put it on, and trust me."
Thomas groaned but dragged the vest on. It seemed to cling to his back, giving him an amazing silhouette, leaving his arms bare, the firm muscles on display. All those years on the hunt had left him in excellent shape. The vest sat open on his chest with no way to close it, but the fabric was long enough to overlap, giving the suggestion of his bare abdomen without leaving it constantly on display.
I had to accept that even women liked the tease of possibility…
And he did look delectable, as Killian had sworn he would.
"You look wonderful," I said. "Very sexy. If I was the queen, I would definitely want to take you to my bedchamber."
He looked at me through lowered lashes. "You are my queen, and you can take me any time you'd like."
"Now, if you can just replicate that smoulder with my mother…" Killian stepped between Thomas and I, cutting the tension like a knife.
"You really know how to kill the mood, Killian." Thomas glared at him, but then shook his head with a small smile. "I'll just pretend that she's Jae, and it will be okay."
"That's the attitude." Killian grabbed a sash of deep blue and tied it around Thomas' waist. "Perfect. Now put these one." He handed Thomas a set of slippers in the same white as the rest of his outfit with light blue thread woven into it in tiny, intricate arrows.
Yes, he was my arrow. Not hers. My gut clenched a little at the thought of her leering over Thomas in the same way I had. But she cared nothing for his mind, his intelligence, his kindness. His heart.
I did. And he would come back to me once this night was over. Not her.
19
Killian
We entered the party fashionably late, as Mother would say. A quick scan of the room showed me that she wasn't here yet, but that was no surprise. Thomas was tense by my side so I grabbed his elbow and shook it.
"Loosen up. You're here to enjoy yourself."
"Imagine it's Jae," he murmured. His mantra for the night.
Auvan dancers swirled around the room, their long blonde hair loose, their pale limbs long and elegant. At any other event I might find one to continue the entertainment with elsewhere, but my mind was consumed by the woman already waiting in my room.
Jaelyn. She was something else, though I was sure that the magic that had flowed between us when we touched had something to do with the intense connection I already felt. I wanted to feel her body against mine, to taste her.
And those thoughts felt somehow wrong, or… No, not wrong, just, strange, when I knew that the man who stood beside me was deeply in love with her, and learning to share her with others. I would have to be kind, easy with my affections. I had no desire to hurt him, not after seeing the way he looked at her, the depth of his emotion.
I snatched two glasses of wine from a serving boy and handed one to Thomas. "Drink. It will help."
He took a sniff of the wine, no doubt catching the subtle scents of jasmine. "Your mother intends for inhibitions to be lowered tonight?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Always. This one is a little more potent than you might expect."
Thomas sipped and this time both of his eyebrows shot up. "I'll take it easy then." He took a second sip though, and then a third. At least he'd have relaxed a little by the time Mother arrived.
Suddenly the dancers swirled away to the edges of the room and a spotlight appeared on the stairs that led up and out of the ballroom. A swell of music flooded the air and Mother appeared at the top of the stairs. She took a few steps down so that she was perfectly placed to grace the crowd with her gaze and she swept it across the room, hesitating on me for a moment, eyes widening subtly at Thomas, before she lifted her arms in an embracing gesture.
"By the will of our Chiron, you have graced me with your presence tonight. The Dawning is upon us and I have been blessed with the Mark." She lifted her arm higher and the fabric of her long sleeve fell away to reveal the symbol. It was a paler gold than Jaelyn's. Less sparkle, from what I could see. I was fairly sure it was a fake, but it didn't matter.
I'd chosen my allegiance. Or rather, had it been shown to me. Made clear in a blaze of heat. Fire.
The crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the Mark. I half-heartedly stomped my feet along with the others. Thomas had tensed up again, so I elbowed him gently.
"Loose. Relaxed," I hissed.
"Faker," he hissed back.
"She is," I agreed. But no one else around us seemed to think so. She was walking down the stairs now, greeting her friends and followers, smiling graciously as people offered their congratulations. They would happily welcome her as the new True Queen.
Even if she wasn't.
The music swelled again, the dancers pulling away from the walls and expertly picking up the dance where they had left off.
"Drink up," I said quietly. "She'll be coming to see me any minute and you're too tense."
Thomas did as he was told, knocking back the rest of his glass and then snatching mine. He downed that as well, then deposited both empty glasses on the tray of another server, grabbing another for good measure. I rushed to grab one as well, knowing Mother would disapprove of me having an empty hand. It just wasn't the done thing, certainly not for royalty. I took a sip, enjoying the slight burn of alcohol as it went down.
And then she was there, parting the crowd like a ship coming in to port.
"Killian, dear." She pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek and then curled her fingers around Thomas' free arm. "Who is your delectable friend?"
"Mother," I said, giving her a dip of my head in respect. "This is Thomas. He's visiting from the Court of Stone."
"Thomas," she purred the name. "It's delightful to meet you." Her eyes crinkled at the corners and her lips turned up in a sinful grin. My mother was nothing if not completely aware of her physical appearance and how to use it to get exactly what she wanted.
"My lady." Thomas dipped his head respectfully. Her fingers tightened a little on his arm and Thomas gasped, eyes widening.
"Are you enjoying our fair court?" She tilted her head, exposing the side of her neck, the skin still taut despite her middle age. Her dark hair was shot through with silver, but she managed to make it look regal. Yet another sign of her ability to rule well.
"It's quite different from my own," Thomas said. He took a sip of his wine, swallowed harder than was necessary. "But I'm enjoying what I've seen so far."
I stifled a grin when he dropped his gaze to my mother’s chest, then lower, before, dragging his eyes back to hers.
Oh, he was good. Now that he had a little liquid confidence in him.
"Well, I'm sure I can show you some more. If you'd like…"
She had taken the bait. Hook, line, and sinker. Thomas flashed me a terrified glance before smoothing over his features and returning his gaze to Mother.
"That…" His voice caught, but then he smoothed it out with a smile. "That sounds wonderful.
Shall we dance? I'm afraid I don't know the moves to this, but I'm sure you can show me the way."
"Oh, I have much to teach you." Her tongue flicked across her top teeth, and then she seemed to catch herself. "You don't mind if I steal your friend?" But it wasn't really a question. She was already sliding between us, leading Thomas away. I stood there watching for a few minutes as she discarded his drink and led him to the dance floor, placing his hands on her body just where she wanted them. He flashed me a pained look, and with a grin, I turned and slipped from the room.
It was time for the next part of our plan.
20
Jaelyn
I paced the room again, back and forth, back and forth. We'd barely been here for ten minutes. Maybe twenty. And yet it felt like forever. I just wanted to get on with the evening. To break into the queen's room and steal the bow.
I wanted to be done and out of here. Onto the last part of our mission.
This strange tension had filled me ever since Thomas and Killian had left. Farrow had done his best to distract me, but I was never the most patient person at the best of times and this most certainly was not the best of times.
"Why is he taking so long?" I said as I spun back towards Farrow.
"He's not, it just feels like it," Farrow said.
"Ugh," I groaned and dragged my hands through my hair, tugging at my scalp and hoping that the small pain would alleviate some of the pressure. "I just want to get on with it."
"Yes, but we have to wait for Killian, and then for a little longer to ensure the party is in full swing. We don't want to be interrupted." Farrow crossed to me and pulled my hands away from my face. "It's going to be okay."
I let out a long breath, trying to expel some of the tension. But it didn't really work. I needed a distraction. Something to keep my mind off whatever was happening at the party. Something to occupy myself with until it was time to go.
The door opened and Killian entered, locking it behind him before he trotted down the steps into the room. This place was wall to wall curtain, no exterior lights. It was such a contrast to his other home, but change was good, and I guessed this way he could change his location depending on his mood. Personally, I preferred the other house, but this was safe and quiet and a good place to wait.
"How is he doing?" I asked.
Killian was already tugging off his shirt, exposing his lean, muscular chest. He tossed his formal shirt into a basket and turned to me as he kicked off his slippers. "He's doing his part. Mother is smitten."
My cheeks burned at the thought, my gut roiling. I pressed a hand to it, but tried not to make it obvious how uncomfortable the thought of them together made me. I had to be okay with whatever happened; he was doing this for me. For us. He'd made it clear I was the only one he wanted and if things happened… I couldn't hold that against him.
"Don't worry, Jae. He only has eyes for you."
And yet, my eyes were drawn to his chest. He was leaner than Thomas, his build not defined by outdoors work, and yet clearly, he did something to keep fit. Swimming, perhaps. It would make sense, living here.
"Thank you," I said, my voice soft. I dragged my eyes up to his face. His gaze narrowed slightly, his lips parting. I had to get a grip on myself. "How long until we go?"
"We need to wait a bit longer. Make sure she's had time to dance, to drink, and for our handsome bait to have fully captivated her."
"Sounds like it won't take much," Farrow said. He moved over to Killian, ran a hand across the other man's chest.
The sight of it sent a shiver through my body. I wanted them to kiss again, but I couldn't understand why it made me tingle. Why I wanted it.
The way they were around each other was new to me. Like best friends, but also it was clear they enjoyed more than simple companionship. Was this love? Would Killian be annoyed at me? Jealous of Farrow and I?
I didn't know how any of this worked, or how it was meant to work and it frustrated me so much. All those years I'd remained chaste when I should have been exploring other people’s bodies and the way that relationships wove together and tore apart.
Killian looked up at Farrow, and I imagined that was the way Thomas looked at me. The flare of his eyes, the slight parting of the lips, the way he leaned in, just a little. An invitation. One that Farrow took. He wound his fingers through Killian's hair and they kissed, eyes closed, chest to chest, one bare, one still clothed.
A groan escaped my lips and I slapped my hand to my mouth, wishing I could push the sound back inside. The men broke apart, Farrow's wicked grin in full flare, and Killian with that look on his face, the same way he'd looked at Farrow. He lifted an arm, held his fingers out towards me and before I could think better of it, I closed the distance, gripped his hand and let him draw me in.
Farrow pressed a hand to my back, and Killian touched my face, softly, tentatively at first. When I leaned into his touch though, it was all the invitation he needed and he pressed his lips to mine. They were so soft, almost feminine, not like the others. His hand still cupped my cheek and he gently explored my mouth with his, forcing that tingle in my core to spread.
Soon both his hands were on my face, then one was in my hair, and Farrow was pressed behind me. We were wearing too many clothes. It was the only thing I could think. I needed skin on skin. I needed contact, grounding. I needed heat and fire and I needed it now. I dropped my hands to my waist and stripped my tunic over my head, then I fumbled for the closure of my chest binding. Farrow's hands found it first though and he unwrapped me reverently, his fingers tracing a line along my skin, making my shiver in anticipation.
Free from the bindings, I crushed myself against Killian, sighing with pleasure at the feel of his skin against mine. My nipples felt swollen, tender already, desperate for touch. Sensing my need, Killian dropped his head, taking one in his mouth while cupping my other breast, stroking it towards the nipple.
Farrow moved down my body, trailing kisses along my back, his fingers sliding into the waist of my pants, undoing the fastening and slipping them to the floor. The fabric tickled along my skin and then I was bare, a pool of cloth at my feet and Killian covering my body from the front, Farrow pressed against my back.
And then Farrow was gone and a chill swept across my skin. He was moving away and all I wanted was for him to come back. I turned towards him, my breast slipping from Killian's mouth, but his lips found my skin again, kissing me everywhere he could, one hand stroking down my ass to rest at the juncture of my thighs.
I let a small gasp out as he trailed a feather light touch across my crease, and then my gasp deepened as I saw what Farrow was doing; drawing back the curtains to reveal thick glass walls between the room and the lake.
"What..."
Killian nipped my neck and I closed my eyes at the shot of pleasure and pain, groaning as he sucked on the tender skin there.
"Beautiful, isn't it? Like you," Farrow said.
"Not as beautiful as you," Killian whispered into my ear. "Do you like it?" I wasn't sure whether he was referring to the strange view through the glass, or what he was doing to me.
I wasn't sure it mattered.
His finger traced my crease again and then slipped between my lips and grazed my entrance. I groaned and rocked my hips back, wanting more. Instead, he removed his hand and walked me forward until we were closer to the glass. Flashes of bright fish darted past the glass and for a second I stopped breathing, imagining the pale white face of the siren.
"You're safe here," Farrow whispered. "Just watch. See."
Dark fronds of kelp famed the large window. I pressed my hands against the glass, the coolness of the water came through my skin, making it tingle. And then Farrow was moving in to my side, gently pushing me against the glass. My nipples tightened, the shock of that cool, smooth expanse against my naked body sending tremors of sensation through me.
At some point he had freed himself of his clothes and I could see the reflection of his face in the glass, the loo
k of lust and love in his eyes as he stroked from my hip to my breasts, tracing the shape of them. His hard cock was against my hip and my core tightened thinking about it. Thinking about him. Wanting him. Wanting Killian too.
As though that thought summoned him, he appeared on the other side of me, meeting my gaze in the reflection as he moved next to Killian, the length of him pressing against me. I gasped, almost overwhelmed at the thought of what we might do.
Two men.
Twice the pleasure?
Their hands stroked my body and I was covered, cool glass on my front, hot bodies at my back. I rolled my shoulders, forcing them to move back a little as I turned around. I wanted to see them, to touch them too.
"Kiss," I whispered, looking between their faces. They didn't need more invitation than that. They stepped closer together, one hand reaching for the other while they still kept contact with me. Their lips touched, kiss deepened, their heat flowed into me as I watched them devour each other. Then they broke apart and Killian was kissing me, the softness of his hairless face such a difference to Thomas and Farrow. But his lips were firm and his tongue daring as it darted into my mouth.
Farrow's arms were around us both, stroking my side, Killian's back, pressing us together in a tangle of flesh and limbs that drove every thought from my mind. I pressed my body hard against Killian, and Farrow came in behind me again. I turned my head, lips swollen and kissed him over my shoulder. Fingers pressed into my flesh, and then skimmed lower, lower, finally finding my aching core and slipping inside. I moaned loudly into Farrow's mouth as Killian worked magic inside me, and then another set of fingers slid down my backside, pausing at my rear hole.
"Yes, or no," Farrow asked, his voice husky, rough with desire.
I bit my lower lip, nervous but excited. I'd known it was possible, but had never done it myself. I pressed my lips together and locked eyes with his, pupils dilated with lust as I nodded and closed my eyes. Waiting. His finger came closer and a new sensation came over me as he rubbed it around my ring, slowly teasing it. The anticipation was killing me and I tilted my body towards him, begging for him to do it. He responded by slipping one finger inside me, gently, slowly, and drawing it back out until only the tip remained inside.