by Krista Wolf
At the base of the ladder, Lucus took his shirt off. It was covered in blood anyway. Rather than put a new one on, he climbed the ladder and pulled himself into the loft alongside her.
“I don’t think I even thanked you,” she said as he plopped down next to her. “So… thanks.”
Lucus smirked more than grinned. It was a boyish look, and softened his normally hard features.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“And I’m just glad you’re an Olympic-level pitchfork thrower,” she chuckled.
He looked back at her strangely at the comment. Melody couldn’t help but notice his big chest, heaving with the exertion of all the work he’d just done. His skin was bronzed by the sun, his arms thick yet well-defined. And his shoulders…
She decided to be bold. Being meek had gotten her nowhere so far. In fact, it had only gotten her locked away in her room.
Melody reached out and took his chin in her hand. The stubble tickled the tips of her fingers as she tilted him up to face her.
“Lucus,” she said, almost in a whisper. “Please… tell me what’s going on here.”
His eyes dropped. Where there was fire and life only moments ago, they now looked… troubled.
“Lucus please,” said Melody. “I need to know.”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing and rising. There was longing his eyes, but also torment. Indecision. Regret…
“Tell me.”
She squeezed his hands, and his eyes shifted upward to meet her own. All at once he leaned in and kissed her, his full lips pressing softly against her own.
Melody’s mouth opened, suddenly hungry for him. She found herself kissing him back, wanting him, needing him more than she’d ever even realized. It was like kissing an old lover; someone familiar, someone long-wanted, long-missed… but somehow forbidden.
Some of it was need. The rest was passion. Lucus’s hands went into her hair, sifting it between his fingers as his mouth churned against hers. He pulled her against him. Crushed her against his beautifully bare chest…
They kissed for several minutes, slowly, leisurely, forgetting all else. His mouth found her neck and Melody shivered with the contact. He tugged on her dress and she raised her arms overhead, allowing him to pull it free of her body and toss it away.
“It’s covered in blood,” said Lucus, kissing her some more. “I’ll get you another.”
They sat cross-legged, face to face, kissing and hugging and holding each other while half-dressed. Melody’s lips brushed the skin of his shoulder as she admired his body. She kissed a scar there, then dragged her mouth lovingly down one of his big arms. When she reached his wrist he folded that arm around her, bringing her in to him. Making her safe.
“I’ll tell you what I can,” he said, with the sigh of having finally decided. His lips brushed hers again and their eyes locked. “I’ll tell you what I remember…”
They sat at the other end of the loft, staring out at the Evermoore’s plantation fields through the square-framed loading window. Logan’s bare chest felt incredible pressed up against Melody’s naked back. His strong arms, his thick legs, all wrapped around her from behind.
“Look out there,” he said, pointing. “What do you see?”
Melody peered into the vast, moonlit glade. The manor house sat off to one side, dark and sentinel. Beyond it, the old sugarcane fields, stretching out in every direction. And beyond that, ringing the property…
“I see the mist,” she said. “That weird grey fog.”
It was closer now, closer than ever before. More than half the property was gone. She squinted and could see that it was still moving, still churning. Crawling its way inward…
“When do you think you are,” Lucus asked abruptly.
“What do you mean?”
He brushed a lock of hair gently away from her shoulder. Lowering his mouth, he kissed her bare skin there.
“Exactly what I said,” he told her. “When do you think you are…”
“In the present?” she laughed. “Here. With you.”
Lucus shook his head. The stubble of his chin brushed against her skin.
“You’re back,” he told her. “Lost. With us. With Evermoore.”
“Lost?”
“For now,” he said. “Not forever.” His hands slipped around her, beneath her breasts. “Because of this.”
One palm moved upward, grasping the amethyst pendant that rested against her chest. The heart of Isolomara glimmered as he manipulated it.
“I— I don’t understand.”
“Look at the mist,” said Lucus. “See how close it gets? See how it creeps toward us, toward the manor?”
Melody nodded mechanically.
“It comes,” he said. “It always comes. Every time. It’s always the same.”
“Why?”
“Because it has to,” Lucus said. “Like everything else it has no choice. It happened before like this. Everything has to happen the way it always has.”
Melody stared out into the mist. She watched it churn, ripple, move.
“What happens when the mist reaches the house?” she asked.
“Then it ends,” said Lucus ominously. “And it starts over again… with or without you.”
He was fingering her pendant.
Never take it off…
Running his thumb over it, the way Eric had done.
While a guest of the Evermoore you will wear this… always.
“W—What’s with this?” she asked, closing her own hand over the big amethyst. “What does my pendant have to do with anything?”
Lucus slid out from behind her and stood up. Right away her body missed his warmth.
“Let me show you something.”
He crossed the loft and bent to swipe at a pile of stray and hay. When he returned, he was carrying a small wooden lockbox with iron hinges.
“Go on,” he said, holding it out to her. “Open it.”
Melody took it from him and placed it in her lap. Gingerly she opened it. As the lid came up she took one look inside and gasped.
“Exactly,” said Lucus, kneeling reverently beside her. “Now you know.”
21
Melody stared down into the little wooden box. Resting inside, on a dirty lining of red velvet, was an almost exact duplicate of the amulet around her neck.
Only this one was shattered into a dozen or more pieces.
“H—How did…” She lifted the broken length of gold chain. Picked at the jagged shards of purple gemstone. “Wait! Where did this come from?”
“The man you arrived here with,” Lucus said. “The one I warned you about.”
“I told you, I didn’t arrive with him. I just—”
“He brought it.”
Melody’s current thought process stopped dead in its tracks. She sifted through the pieces of the broken amulet, holding them up against her own. They weren’t just similar, they were nearly identical.
“Eric had one of these?” she asked.
Lucus nodded. “When he first came here, yes.”
Her mind reeled. Her brain kept trying to put the puzzle together, but it was like none of the pieces made any sense.
“But… But how—”
“He’s dangerous,” said Lucus. “He’s been here before.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I… I can’t say,” he answered. “It doesn’t work that way.” The smith’s expression changed slightly, then morphed into a frown. “I’ve said more than I’m permitted to already.”
“Permitted to?”
He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again there was still some defiance there. Some resolve.
“There are… consequences,” Lucus explained.
“Consequences to what?”
“To talking like this.”
His hands were in his lap, resting helplessly. Melody leaned her face against his shoulder. She put her own hands over his reassuringly.
> “Lucus, no one’s going to punish you. I won’t let them.”
“It’s not your choice.”
She pulled him close. Kissed him again. She could feel him melting into her. The tension draining away from his body as he allowed himself to let go.
“Tell me.”
He kissed her back, holding her tight in the warmth and sanctity of the high-flung little loft. It felt good to be in his arms. Good to be safe from everything below.
“Something happened to this place,” he explained. “Something terrible that happens again and again, and it can never be stopped.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t really know…” he replied. Melody searched his expression, and there was honesty in the statement. “I don’t always remember…”
“How many times has it happened?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. He merely stared blankly, straight ahead.
“Lucus…” she said, shaking him gently. “How long have you been here?”
The blacksmith’s face crossed with pain — an emotional agony that made her immediately regret the question. Lovingly she stroked his arm. Brushed the hair back from his cheek and then kissed him there.
“Lucus…”
“I don’t know,” he murmured finally. “I… I can’t ever know. Not until the end. Until the moment when…”
His voice trailed off. This time she let it go. Melody went back to the broken contents of the strongbox. She rattled them in her hand.
“You took this from him?”
“It broke,” said Lucus.
“How?”
“While we were… fighting?” His expression went strange again, like he was struggling to recall. “He attacked me, at the very end. When he was trying to get…”
Lucus’s eyes went foggy as he shook his head. For a long time he was silent.
“It’s not my fault,” he said finally. “It’s just the way it is. The way it has to be, and now I’ll be punished for… for…” He looked up at Melody. “For interfering…”
“Hey, hey,” she said. “Shhh. It’s okay.” She stroked his hair. His face. “No one’s going to hurt anyone.”
There was a lot she didn’t understand, didn’t believe. Right now wasn’t the time for it. Melody drew him near again, enjoying the closeness. She began planting soft kisses on the smith’s face, first his forehead, then one cheek, then the other.
“I’m here,” she said. “I’m with you…”
She kissed his lips. Felt his body go rigid with a rising excitement. His hands came alive again, reaching out for her. They gripped her firmly but still gently around the waist.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured into his mouth. “I promise.”
Lucus took her in his arms. Laid her back into the softness of his makeshift bed. Melody squirmed into him as his hands began wandering her half-clothed body. They traced over her naked stomach. Slid around the small of her back, cupping her ass as they drew her into him.
She inhaled his scent — salty and musky and full of raw, untamed masculinity.
She could taste him on her tongue.
She could have him…
I didn’t want to sleep tonight anyway, she sighed, pulling him into her.
22
Melody fell back into the soft, comfortable bed… and Lucus slid right on top of her. His chest was hard and unyielding, his arms like two tree trunks jutting up on either side of her supple body. His lips pushed sensually against her own, parting them, making room for his tongue as it penetrated her willing mouth.
I want him…
It was an admission she wasn’t the least bit afraid of. A guilty pleasure, taken in a moment of closeness and emotional intensity. A physical need, satisfied beyond fulfillment by a man both stunningly handsome and ruggedly well-built.
He pushed his way between her legs unapologetically, without hesitation. And Melody spread for him. She spread her thighs wide in the pale moonlight of the cozy loft, hooking her ankles around his slim waist to draw him even harder into her.
Lucus nuzzled her neck… kissed his way down to her breasts. He still had his pants on, and Melody’s hands shot downward to find his waistband. Any clothing the smith was still wearing constituted an issue she meant to remedy immediately.
He’s risking everything for you, the little voice in her head told her. He’s told you things he wasn’t supposed to.
Maybe.
Probably.
In truth, he’d been brave. Both with the wolves and with keeping her out of danger. She didn’t want to think about that now, though. Right now all that mattered was showing him what she needed. And beyond that… fulfilling some of the man’s own needs as well.
“Fuck me,” she gasped into his mouth. “Please, Lucus…” Her eyes locked on his own. “I need this…”
His pants came down. Beneath it, he wore absolutely nothing. Melody gasped as her hand closed around him, his manhood filling her palm and then some. He was big. Big and thick and growing harder with each passing second as the head of his cock slid through the opening between her thumb and forefinger.
“I’ve wanted you,” he whispered into her ear. His breath was steaming hot against her skin. “Wanted you since I saw you.”
She pulled him tight. Felt his growing bulge press against the thin fabric of her panties…
“… to be inside you,” Lucus was saying. “To feel you. Touch you…”
His hand slipped between her legs, all big and calloused, his thumb shoving the thin strip of her panties roughly aside. He rubbed her up and down with his palm. Covered his entire hand in her wetness as she groaned into his mouth.
“I’ll fuck you,” he growled, nibbling on her lip. His mouth went to her ear again. “Have no fear of that.”
Melody swooned as she ground herself against him, desperate for the penetration. She squeezed her eyes shut. Savored the feel of his thick fingers curling inside her, diving their way into her dripping hot depths. His cock was a steel rod, achingly useless in her open hand. She stroked it, marveling at the length. Begging for it to be used on her. For her legs — no, her entire body — to be wrapped magnificently around it.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Lucus…”
He shifted upward, and she found herself face to face with one brown nipple. Melody opened her mouth and took it in. Hungrily she devoured his chest, her tongue tracing wet ovals across the salty-sweet surface of the blacksmith’s delicious skin.
Finally she felt it; the bulbous head of his cock pressed snugly against her opening. She spread her thighs wider. Screwed down harder, trying to draw him in.
Without warning everything changed. Melody was lifted by two strong arms, flipped onto her stomach, and bent over a covered pile of soft straw.
“OHHH!”
She gasped as he took her from behind. Lucus’s hands went to her hips, grabbing and positioning her. The fingers of one hand clenched tightly against her flesh as he used the other to guide himself, still thick and raging hard, right up against the entrance to her sopping wet pussy.
“You want this?” he breathed huskily into her ear. The act of leaning over Melody’s back had already driven the very tip of his cock inside her.
“YES,” she gasped needlessly.
“Tell me.”
“I want it!”
“Where?”
“INSIDE me…”
He pushed the head in. It was the most incredible feeling in the world. But then he stopped.
“Oh please,” she begged. “Lucus, please…”
He shoved all the way into her… in one glorious, beautiful thrust. It filled Melody totally and completely. Sent her mind reeling with pleasure, spinning to the edges of delirium and ecstasy.
OH GOD…
He began thrusting; long, deep strokes that stretched her to wonderful new limits. His arms held her pinned before him, his hands guiding her body back and forth against the full length of his cock. Melody’s eyes rolled back
in gratification. A steady grunting noise issued from the back of her throat.
“You’re so hot inside,” he said, screwing himself against her. “So hot and so wet…”
Her arms were locked, her legs bent at the knees. For a while she fucked back against him, wildly, as if daring him to take her deeper. In the end though, the raw pleasure was just too much. Melody surrendered, collapsing forward into the softness of the straw bed. She focused only on breathing, and on the exquisite sensation of Lucus’s strong, lean body slamming itself home, very deep, way up near the entrance to her womb.
He fucked like an animal. One full of angst, and pent-up frustration. He continued pounding away, using her body purely for his own pleasure, and the harder he gave it the harder Melody was determined to take.
In other words she absolutely loved it.
She cooed softly in the warm realm of the loft, until the strength and ferocity of her lover’s ceaseless pounding finally triggered her orgasm. Melody screamed murderously as she came, screwing so hard against his thrusting abdomen that Lucus had no choice but to hold her body absolutely still. This allowed her full control, to rub and grind at her clit with precisely the right amount of pressure as he remained buried to the hilt inside her. She bucked hard, shuddering through the violent throes of an earth-shattering climax, all while reaching back to claw the smith’s ass hard against her body with pointed, painted fingertips.
When she was finished Melody basically let go of every remaining inhibition, falling orgasmically limp beneath his onslaught. Mercifully he didn’t last long, his rough hands palming the soft globes of her delectable ass as he exploded inside her from behind.
Eventually he rolled off of her, dribbling a long pearlescent stream of his creamy white seed. She was packed absolutely full of it, stretched out on her belly in the makeshift bedroll as it leaked from her well-fucked pussy and onto the linens beneath.
“Jesus Christ, Lucus,” she panted as he dropped down beside her. Her legs still trembled, her body heaving with the exertion of being so throughly, utterly fucked.
The blacksmith said nothing, because there was nothing to really say. He only propped himself up on one elbow and grinned.