He knew three would be better than one-on-one. He knew Pol felt what he did, the intense stimulation of her mouth on him and the feel of being inside her pussy.
And Fiona felt all of it. She began to writhe and squeal, trying to keep sucking on Pol while wanting to scream her ecstasy at what Cas was doing to her.
“That’s it, baby,” Pol said, swirling his hand through her fire-red hair. “Keep on it. Make me come.”
She wriggled and moaned in her throat. Cas heard deeper moans and realized they came from him.
Gods, having her was better than anything ever had been in his entire existence. Sweet Fiona, you were made for loving.
She loved being fucked by them, plus she worried about them and tried to protect them. She was their champion, the woman who rescued them and faced down Selena for them.
Love you, baby. Love you.
He groaned and came. Pol came at the same time, and so did Fiona. The three of them spiraled to excitement together, Cas’ blood pounding with it.
He felt her pussy squeeze him hard, felt her tongue all over Pol’s cock, felt her ecstasy pumping through her body. He’d never had this connection before with any woman, and he knew that this meant she had been made for him.
And Pol.
Maybe Dionysus was looking out for them after all.
* * * * *
They slept after that, the three laid out on Fiona’s bed, Cas holding her back against him while Pol snored on her other side. He breathed her fragrance as he slid into sleep, then he dreamed of making love to her.
They were on an island of golden sand while the blue, blue Mediterranean spread out before them, and he made love to Fiona on a beach. Pol lounged nearby, watching them while he sunned his naked body, his feet washed by the mild sea.
He seemed to hear the voice of his half sister, Artemis, daughter of Zeus and twin of Apollo. “Finally got it right, did you, Cas?”
The voice was so clear that he awoke. Nothing stirred in the room, save for the faint breeze at the window.
Cas softly kissed Fiona’s cheek, and her eyelids fluttered. “Ah, you are awake,” he whispered.
She smiled and turned her head for a kiss.
Cas made love to her then and there, entering from behind her, barely moving on the bed. It was slow, warm sex rather than the frantic frenzy they’d shared before.
On her other side, Pol awoke, smiled when he saw what they were doing, and joined in, playing with Fiona’s breasts and quim until she was moaning and squirming between them.
Once Cas had climaxed, she took Pol in her mouth and finished him, all without them moving from the bed.
The full moon, Artemis’ symbol, poured over the bed as they drifted to sleep again, and Cas swore he heard his half sister laugh.
* * * * *
When Fiona walked onto the site the next morning, everything seemed to be as normal. Archaeologists rose early because morning shadows were best for finding artifacts, and as usual, the dig was teeming at sunrise.
The smell of hot coffee beckoned her to an urn and she poured herself a cup. Hans was already hovering over his new stoa with Dr. Wheelan looking over his shoulder. Joan and Bob Whittington stood over a drawing spread across a bench, arguing with each other. All was normal.
When anyone glanced up and saw her in her work shorts and t-shirt, they either nodded good morning or waved, but other than that ignored her. Again, all as usual. Everyone was buried in their own tasks.
If they knew that Fiona had spent the night alternatively making love to two men and having Cas’ cock in her while she sucked on Pol spread before her, they made no sign. Digs were such fonts of gossip—archaeology was a small world in many ways—that she was amazed no one seemed to know anything.
When the gray cat rubbed her ankles, she suddenly understood. Or thought she did. Had the cat stood guard outside the door and made sure none disturbed them all night?
Fiona still didn’t know who the gray cat really was and if the creature was truly on their side. But she was keeping Selena away from them, and for that Fiona found the cat a strip of bacon and fed it to her.
Fiona had left Pol and Cas sleeping, one face up and one facedown, looking damn enticing with the sheet tangled around their brown legs, torsos bare to the morning sun. She’d studied them a moment before she left, Pol’s black hair falling over his outstretched arm, Cas’ lips curved as he smiled in his sleep.
Fiona tried to banish the smile from her own lips as she walked across the dig to Hans and Dr. Wheelan.
“Fiona.” Dr. Wheelan gestured to her absently. “Another representative of the Greek antiquities department came about the jar. They want to see it. I offered them coffee.” He peered at the site, which was empty of any official-looking Athenian. “I suppose they’re about somewhere. Are you all right, my dear? You look pale.”
“Just need my coffee,” Fiona said breathlessly. She turned away, scooped up the gray cat and headed for the pottery room. The cat didn’t seem to mind. It relaxed against Fiona’s shoulder and purred.
Fiona reached the pottery room and tentatively pushed open the door. She wasn’t certain what she was going to do if Selena was there—throw the cat at her?
She opened the door. A middle-aged man in a brown suit straightened up from studying a row of shards. “Hello,” he said.
“Hello.” Fiona clutched the cat, wondering if the man would suddenly morph into a black-leather clad Selena.
He didn’t look as though he meant to. “I have been hearing about this vessel you have put together from the time of Pericles,” he said in accented English. “I hear that it has a marvelously clear, intact painting. May I see it?”
He seemed genuine enough—in fact, she thought she recognized him from one of the many functions she’d gone to at the university when they’d first arrived.
Fiona held the cat a little more firmly and pointed toward the table. “Sure. It’s over there.”
Her hand froze, finger rigid. The gentleman looked in the direction she indicated and waited, puzzled. “Where?”
Words died on Fiona’s lips. The table was empty, the jar gone. She glared accusingly at the cat, who looked back at her with unblinking orange eyes and kept on purring.
Chapter Twelve
“This is a complete disaster! Why aren’t you worried?”
Fiona stood with hands on hips and glared down at the twins who still lounged in her bed. They certainly looked like gods now, reclining half covered with her sheet, regarding her with lazy eyes.
“There is nothing to worry about, Fiona,” Cas began.
“Yes, there is. Someone stole the jar! Selena most likely.” She pointed an accusing finger at the cat, who’d followed her in. “You were supposed to guard it.”
Pol pushed hair out of his eyes and looked around sleepily. “Who are you talking to?”
“The cat. Don’t you see it? It’s right there.”
Fiona kept her finger trained on the cat who watched her without expression. Cas lifted his brows. “No. But if you say there is a cat, we believe you.”
He and Pol exchanged a glance that maddened her.
“I know you think I’m crazy and that’s just fine.” She said it in a tone that let them know it was not fine. “There is a cat I can see and you can’t, I’m having a ménage a trois with two demigods, and a magic jar has just been stolen by a demon demigoddess in dominatrix attire. Why should anyone think I’m crazy?”
“Fiona,” Cas began.
“Don’t start with me. The pair of you seducing me and making me play Blind Man’s Bluff in the buff and then making me feel like that—and then you lay there calmly when all hell has broken loose. If she breaks that jar, you’re dead. And I’ll lose you.”
She said the last with tears in her eyes. She loved them. Both of them. She loved them fiercely and if she lost them, the grief would hurt like nobody’s business.
“Fiona,” Cas said. “Hush, sweetheart. Selena didn’t steal the jar.”
Fiona transferred her glare to him. “How the hell do can you be so sure?”
Pol propped himself on his elbows and the sheet slid from his body, revealing his brown bare limbs and flat pelvis. “Because we stole it.”
Fiona had dragged in a long breath to shout some more, and she choked. “What?”
Cas said, “Selena is tricky, but we are trickier. We put it in a place she’ll never find it.”
“No one will ever find it,” Pol added.
They looked so smug and so hot lying there with the sheet exposing their bodies, dark eyes gleaming, smiles sinful.
Fiona moaned, sank to the foot of the bed and buried her face in her hands.
“Love?” Cas sat up put his arm around her. “We thought you’d be happy. You don’t have to worry about it now. We’ll take care of it and Selena.”
Pol remained on his back and brushed the base of her spine with his toes. “You go back to digging up the Agora and finding your bits of pots. We can even tell you what they are.”
Cas rubbed her shoulders as though trying to soothe her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“You can’t steal an artifact,” Fiona moaned. “It’s illegal. People are very touchy about artifacts disappearing from the country in which it was found—and with good reason.”
“But there are so many pots,” Pol argued. “We’ll find you another one.”
“That isn’t the point. Greece and England have been arguing about the return of the Elgin Marbles for two hundred years. If even a fragment of an artifact goes missing, it’s a crime. I’ll be arrested.”
Cas actually chuckled. “You will not, Fiona, we will see to it.”
“This isn’t funny. I know you don’t understand a lot of things because this isn’t your century, but I know you saw prisons for people who broke the law. They’ll keep me in jail here as an example of what happens to artifact stealers, and I’ll never see the light of day again. Even if they do let me go, it will destroy my career.”
“Baby.” Pol sat up behind her and smoothed his fingers through her hair. “They won’t arrest you.”
“It was such a good career. Doing what I loved with people I like and respect…”
“We do have some powers, Fiona,” Cas said. He cradled her against his chest. “We’re demigods. We can make it so that no one but us notices the jar is gone at all. They will see what they want to see, hear what they want to hear.”
Fiona looked up at him. His handsome face was dark with unshaved whiskers, his brown eyes liquid. She suddenly wanted to do nothing more than sit on this bed and kiss him, damn the jar, damn her career.
“We can’t hide it forever,” she said weakly.
“But long enough to deal with Selena,” Pol rumbled. “Then you can have your pot back.”
“How do you plan to deal with Selena?”
“Find her and kill her,” Pol answered. “She is powerful, but so are we.”
Fiona bit her lip. “I have the feeling it won’t be that easy.”
“You leave it to us.”
Her anger rose. “Don’t worry my pretty little head about it, you mean? I have to worry—you two are involved.” She made an exasperated noise. “Besides, she put a binding spell on you. If you kill her, will that release the spell? Or just enforce it? I have the feeling she’s put a lot of booby traps on it.”
Cas’ brows skimmed upward. “Booby traps?”
“Tricks and things so that if you try to release it or hurt her or whatever, the spell backfires and traps you even farther. Like if the pot breaks, you die or return to oblivion.”
Pol traced her cheek. “You’re sweet to be worried for us.”
“I’m not sweet. I love you.”
They stared at her.
“Which one of us did you say that to?” Cas asked, his voice quiet.
“Both of you.” Fiona put her hands to her face. “I don’t know why I said that. I have no idea what’s wrong with me.”
Cas rose from the bed, discarding the sheet. He was always so casual in his nakedness, as though clothes didn’t matter. She supposed they didn’t, not to a demigod.
“You love both of us?” He rested his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. “In the same way?”
“I love you for different reasons. You, Cas, because you’re feel things deeply and you soothe me and are so damn strong. Pol, because you are wild and wicked and make me do things I’d never dream of. But both of you just as intimately.” She broke off. “I never thought I’d be saying this.”
“Hey.” Pol stepped behind her, also minus his sheet, his hands on her hips. “We’re double trouble, sweetheart, opposite but equal. The twins of Gemini watch over those who are torn between opposites, the creative and the practical. We are completely different from one another, yet exactly the same.”
“I know,” Fiona said. “It drives me crazy.”
“So take both of us,” Cas breathed as he kissed her. “We like to share.”
He licked the side of her neck, and at the same time, Pol leaned down and drew his tongue up the other side.
“You are trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?” Pol asked.
It was. She felt her juices pool in her pussy and longed to throw one of them on the bed and impale herself on him.
That was the only thing that would satisfy her right now, one of their cocks deep inside her.
Perform the ritual.
Fiona jumped. The voice had been female and had sounded loud and clear in the room. Cas and Pol seemed not to have heard. They continued to kiss her neck, one on either side, satin hair brushing her, Pol reaching around and cupping her breast.
No one was in the room but them. And…
Fiona looked down and saw the cat at her feet. It sat on its haunches and stared up at her with unblinking eyes.
“What?”
Cas drew away, frowning slightly. Pol paid no attention.
Perform the ritual, the woman’s voice came again.
Why don’t you talk out loud? Fiona demanded mentally. They think I’m nuts.
I am a cat. I can only meow in my present form and make various kinds of rumbling noises. Would you prefer me yowling and you pretending you understood?
Who are you? Fiona asked, frustrated.
No one important right now. You are the important woman in this room, Fiona McCarty. You can save them if you perform the ritual.
What ritual? Fiona began, but suddenly she knew. “The ritual on the jar?” she asked out loud.
Precisely.
“Why will that save them?”
Cats could not smile, but Fiona swore this one did. Trust me, she said and then vanished.
“Fiona.” Pol was regarding her with a patient expression. “Who are you talking to this time?”
“No one at all,” Fiona said. She took Pol’s hand and placed it where it had been on her breast, then took Cas’ in hers, and while he slanted her a wicked smile, placed it between her legs.
* * * * *
Cas thought paradise could not be better than this. Fiona stood naked in front of them while he and Pol rubbed her down with oil. Pol’s cock stood out achingly hard and Cas felt the same ache from his own.
She seemed adamant to perform the ritual he and Pol had done with Selena all those thousands of years ago. The difference between then and now was that neither Cas nor Pol had wanted to touch Selena, but they leapt at the chance to share this intimacy with Fiona.
Her shyness remained, but she had also learned her power. She stood still, her feet a little apart, a dreamy smile on her face as Pol oiled her thighs and Cas rubbed fragrant oil all over her breasts, pausing to pinch her nipples into pointed, tight nubs.
When they were all together, three as one, she would feel them feeling her, and Cas would feel what she and Pol felt. The joining would be nothing like he’d ever experienced, because this was Fiona, a woman he deeply loved.
Because he loved her, he had no
trouble sharing her with Pol. Pol made her feel good in a different way from Cas, and Cas would never deprive Fiona of the pleasure his brother could give her.
No other man would touch her, but Pol was his twin, like an extension of himself. He grinned as he thought this, knowing that Pol would loudly refute the description.
They tied Fiona’s wrists in front of her with a scarf. Pol lifted her, his arms around her waist, and Cas hooked his hands under her knees and parted her thighs. Standing against the cool wall, he eased Fiona onto him.
She moaned softly as he penetrated her. She leaned back and Pol held her, allowing Cas to enter her deeply.
She was hot and tight and welcoming. He felt love and excitement pouring from her, felt her walls closing on him, and sensed her own feelings of being penetrated. She writhed, loving it, and she loved it even better when Pol slid his hand around her and stroked her clit.
“You like that, sweetheart?” Pol asked.
She gave an incoherent reply. Cas pumped gently, needing to ease her open, while Pol began to massage and soothe her for what was to come.
The original ritual had been fast and harsh. Selena had laughed and gloated in her power, while Cas had felt nothing but disgust. What she’d done had been no less than rape.
With Fiona the excitement was nearly unbearable. Cas needed to go slowly, to ready her and not come until it was time. But she was so damn tight and felt so good that he began to pulse quickly, ready to spill his seed.
He forced himself to take deep breaths, to hold himself back. Pol still needed to loosen her, though she was already relaxing, her body wanting it.
She was so beautiful when caught in sexual pleasure. Her breasts were swollen, areolas dark and tight. Her skin thrummed with warmth, her pulse speeding, her eyes half-closed. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders and fanned over Pol’s brown skin.
“Fiona,” Pol breathed, his body tight and ready.
“It’s good, she feels so good.”
Pol smiled, knowing full well what Cas was experiencing. “Are you ready, Fiona?”
Planetary Passions 6: Double Trouble (Gemini) Page 14