Monsters and Shifters and Men, Oh My! Paranormal Menage and Multiple Partner Romance Stories

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Monsters and Shifters and Men, Oh My! Paranormal Menage and Multiple Partner Romance Stories Page 21

by Giselle Renarde


  Yes, the magicals were a jealous lot, according to local gossip.

  “Why can’t Bedwyn come along?” she asked.

  He stepped outside the chamber door so she might change her clothes in privacy. “You don’t want your boy knowing what this sacrifice is in aid of, correct?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “That’s right.”

  “But surely he’ll witness what you don’t want seen when you’re lying naked on the sacrificial stone.”

  Her heart thundered.

  “Will I be fully naked?” she asked, with trepidation. “Only, nobody’s ever seen me naked since I was a baby bathed by my mother.”

  He stepped inside the chamber just as she fastened the last button on her long green jacket. “We will leave him a note.”

  “He doesn’t know his letters,” Trysta protested. “Can I not simply tell him we must venture out? As long as I return, he’ll only be happy our troubles are past.”

  When she looked into Selyf’s eyes, his expression was surprisingly soft. He nodded, taking up his sack and the basket of food left from the previous night.

  “Very well,” he said. “Whisper in his ear as we pass, but we must set off now.”

  A thrill ran through her body as she jumped into her shoes and raced out the door. When she arrived at the hedge where Bedwyn slept the previous night, there remained no trace of him.

  “Bedwyn?” she called out. “Caru?”

  Closing the door to his lair, Selyf joined her in the grass. “Has your ginger boy run off?”

  “No,” she snapped, though she wasn’t at all sure. “He enjoys morning hikes. Perhaps we’ll meet up with him along the way.”

  “Perhaps, indeed.”

  Taking the food basket from his hand, she said, “Let me carry this.”

  Selyf wouldn’t release it. “Don’t concern yourself.”

  She smiled, but didn’t let go of the handle, even as they set off over the hillock and down the dale. “We’ll both carry it, then, if you insist on being so stubborn.”

  He smiled too, though he seemed intent on veiling his pleasure. “I do insist. I am nothing if not stubborn.”

  As they hiked, Trysta looked in all directions, searching out Bedwyn. By mid-day, her feet ached and she figured there was no way his morning hike took him so far north. He must have absconded in the night, as Selyf suggested.

  “You’re hungry,” the professor observed. “And you’re in pain. Let us sit.”

  To her surprise, he joined in her luncheon. “I thought you full fae only ate for pleasure,” she teased as he snacked on strawberries.

  “Pleasure,” he replied, “is sitting in the grass on a summer’s day across from the most beautiful girl in all of Faedom.”

  She laughed at his obvious flirtation. “What do you know of summer’s days?” she teased, drawing her thumb across his chin. “You’re pale as a banshee. You look as though you hadn’t seen the sun in years!”

  “Indeed,” he replied.

  Breathing deeply, she considered the dark circles beneath his dark eyes, and asked, “What if Bedwyn has left me for good?”

  Wrapping his thin, pink lips around a strawberry, he shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to cope.”

  They continued eating in silence. She didn’t ask why he gazed at her so intently, because she knew it was the same reason she stared at him, absorbing every sharp feature of his sleepless face. When they packed up to walk on, they spoke very little. Being half fay, she still managed to communicate a great deal without words. She let him know how very much she appreciated him simply by walking at his side.

  Darkness set across the sacrificial mount as they arrived at its base in the midst of celebration.

  “All these people,” Selyf said with a shudder. He wrapped his arms across his chest even though, as a pure blood fay, chances were great that nobody could see him. Trysta, on the other hand, had enough human blood in her system to be seen by all.

  Though Selyf trudged on ahead, Trysta stopped when she arrived near a group of children building a bonfire. It had been many years since she’d attended a solstice celebration, but the memories flooded back as she watched them tossing kindling on top of dried leaves.

  “They’re jumping!” someone cried from around the bend. “Children, come and watch! They’re jumping now!”

  Trysta’s heart leapt with nostalgia. “They’re jumping,” she repeated. Catching up with Selyf, she pulled at his sleeve. “Come with me. We must watch.”

  “Watch what?” he scoffed as she dragged him around the base of the mount.

  Finding the jumpers was an easy enough task—one must only look for the biggest bonfire around.

  “Where are you taking me?” Selyf went on complaining.

  The bonfire was spectacular. She’d guess it was nearly as tall as she herself. Alongside Selyf, she stood on the outskirts of the assembled group.

  “Jumping the bonfire is a solstice tradition,” she explained in a hush. With Selyf invisible to human eyes, she didn’t want onlookers to notice her speaking to herself.

  The first of the jumpers, a man in his prime, geared up to hoots and hollers from the crowd.

  “What on earth is he planning to do?” Selyf scoffed as the young man ran toward the flames. At the very last moment, he lifted his feet off the ground and leapt across the fire. When he tumbled down unscathed on the other side, the crowd applauded.

  Selyf clasped his hand to his heart. “Why would anybody do such a thing? These humans must be out of their minds!”

  “It’s a tradition,” Trysta replied with a shrug. “They jump the bonfire for good luck, and to rid themselves of negativity.” With a chuckle, she mused, “Perhaps I ought to give it a go. I could use more good luck than anyone here.”

  “I’d sooner tear my hair out than watch you risk your life,” Selyf replied. Taking her by the hand, he led her up the mount.

  “What a shame that would be,” she teased. “I quite like your hair. It’s almost as black as mine.”

  He looked to her and raised an eyebrow. “It’s blacker, thank you.”

  The mountain’s atmosphere was highly social. Couples and families milled about as they hiked upwards. When they arrived at the sacrificial site, they found the stone grown over with lush greenery, and the greenery swathed in breeding couples of all species. Selyf scoffed at the sight. “What is this meant to be?”

  “The goddess is fertile, and solstice is a time for handfasting,” she said, indicating those couples whose wrists remained tied together even after their ceremonies.

  When a girl and a boy looked up from their passionate embrace to give her a sneer, Trysta pushed Selyf into a rock overhang grown with ivy.

  “Best we conceal ourselves,” she advised. “Let the young people get on without us old folks staring at them.”

  “Old?” Selyf laughed. “I would hardly call you that.”

  “Perhaps not chronologically,” she agreed. “But I often feel I’ve lived many lives in this one. Sometimes I feel very old indeed.”

  She watched through the ivy as the couples on the mount rose to their passions. Her sense of envy fought with wonder. “I want to be like them,” she confessed. “They look so happy together.”

  “Enraptured,” Selyf agreed. Placing a hand on her kneeling thigh, he asked, “Are you prepared for the sacrifice?”

  How could she respond but to laugh? “Are you?”

  When he turned to meet her gaze, his eyes seemed to smolder like the bonfire below. Without words, he kissed her lips and she surrendered to the burn. At midnight, she’d take him inside herself and his magic would carve a new course through her body.

  “All right, you lot!” a matronly voice called out across the peak. “Break it up, will you? The wee ones are one their way for the fire wheel!”

  As couples across the mount moaned, Trysta withdrew from their kiss. The crowd from the base of the hill ascended to the top, armed with torches and straw-stuffed wheels.


  “Oh, there’s more to your wretched human celebration, is there?” Selyf teased.

  With a chuckle, she said, “Yes, there’s more. You see those wheels they’re holding, filled up with straw? Each farm brings one up to the top of the hill. They light the wheel on fire, and roll it down. If the wheel is still burning when it reaches the base, that means the year’s harvest will be rich.”

  “That’s a rather ridiculous belief,” he replied as they came out of hiding to join the crowd.

  “As ridiculous as your goddess of light ritual?” she teased in a hushed voice.

  “Point well taken.”

  The villagers cheered as they lit their wheels, and the aroma of burning wood and straw filled the night air. They rolled their blazing wheels down the hill, and children followed suit by running or rolling along after. The chattering adults pursued the children, and the young people trailed along. In time, there was nobody left on the peak but Trysta and Selyf. Still, bonfires burned below.

  “We should begin,” he said, pulling the tools of his trade from his sack.

  She stood beside the mossy stone, tracing her fingers across its soft vegetation. “I’m afraid.” She laughed. “I don’t know why.”

  That was a lie, of course. She knew the reason precisely.

  “Selyf, I don’t want you seeing me naked.”

  He nodded in response, and pulled a strip of silk from his sack. “I thought you might say that.”

  For a solitary fay, Selyf seemed to understand her surprisingly well. He watched as she unbuttoned her long jacket. It fell to the ground, revealing the naked breasts he’d worshipped the night before. Under rays of moonlight, he looked on. Her breath grew deep. She always wore layers to ensure nobody would see.

  Handing over the piece of silk, Selyf turned his back to her. When she’d fully undressed, she set her body down on the altar. Her skin was utterly bare but for the covering over the aspect of her body she didn’t want him to see.

  “You can turn around now,” she beckoned, though she felt terribly apprehensive about the whole sacrifice idea.

  Anything to be in my true body, and a body I could share with Bedwyn, she reminded herself. Bedwyn…wherever he’d gone.

  When Selyf looked her over, she felt a renewed sense of wonder. Something in his gaze put her immediately at ease.

  Setting his paraphernalia at her feet, he read a long string of words she didn’t understand. His voice resonated deep in her body. She felt a tingling sensation across her chest and her arms. Her fingers and toes felt warm, and there were fireworks exploding beneath her silk sheathe. He instructed her to close her eyes. When she did, stars soared across the dark horizon, and she knew they were entering a place beyond the world of here and now.

  Droplets of fragranced oil fell across her chest, belly, and thighs like summer rain. When warm hands met her skin, she opened her eyes to find Selyf hovering over her. Her heart ignited.

  “What must I do?” She felt dizzied as he traced his hands across the soft terrain of her flesh.

  Pressing his mouth to her ear, he said, “Enjoy.”

  His hot breath coursed through her veins until she felt as though she were floating above the clouds. When Selyf kissed her full on the lips, she threw her arms around his neck. He took her wrists and held them against the mossy altar. Though she wanted to press herself against him, he held her down until she knew to obey. She lay very still as he flipped her over.

  Repeating his secret words, he dripped oil across her back, from her neck and all the way down to her thighs. When a cool stream of oil coursed down the cleave of her buttocks, she gasped at the unfamiliar yet delightful sensation. Selyf stood at her side, unbuttoning his cassock, but she couldn’t turn her head far enough to get a good look at his body.

  Pressing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “The time has come, Fay Trysta. Are you prepared for the sacrifice?”

  “Yes,” she said in a breathy murmur. “Please, yes, oh please begin the sacrifice…”

  Chapter Six

  Setting his naked front against her slick back, he draped his long cassock over their bare bodies. She felt him everywhere at once. His mouth rested against her ear, his chest against her oiled back, his arms on hers. The insides of his thighs met the outsides of hers, but everything else paled in comparison to the raging sensation of his throbbing erection.

  He did not enter her right away. He moved only slightly, running the length of his shaft through the tunnel of her buttocks coated in oil. Every move felt more wonderful than the last. The faster he slid against her, the more her hole grasped for him and cried out to be filled.

  “Enter me,” she begged. “Please enter me.”

  “I must,” he advised. “The time is upon us.”

  Sinking down on her body, he poured oil all along his shaft. She gasped as it streamed down her ass. The tip of his cock pressed against her hole as she turned to watch the expression on his face. He seemed close to bliss as he pushed his cockhead past the protective ring of her hole.

  Her gut blazed as he moved deeper inside her body. Fighting the burn, she dug her fingers into the moss on the altar. She gritted her teeth and opened to give him space. He moved slowly inside her, inching forward and back, little by little. The more he slid his slick erection inside her body, the better it felt.

  Trysta rose to another plane of existence. In this alternate reality, there lived only she and Selyf, and everything was perfect.

  He pressed his slick chest to her back as she rocked her body against Selyf’s cock. He thrust more firmly now, as though he knew by the motion of her hips that the burn had passed. There was only enjoyment, even as he moved in deeper.

  He held her wrists. Trysta found this amusing—as if she’d try to escape! There was nowhere else she’d rather be than beneath the slick body of a fully erect magical. He slithered on her and in her like a snake. With every motion, she climbed one more step toward the gates of ecstasy.

  Moving quickly in her body, he pressed his lips to her ear and released breathy thoughts upon her mind. As much as she could manage, she bucked against his hips as he plunged inside her.

  “You are golden,” he said, again and again. “You are golden, Trysta. You are the goddess Sunna, fully embodied.”

  She wasn’t certain if the words were part of the ritual until she glanced down their bodies. Her skin shone like jewels of the Far East. She was golden! She was Sunna, the goddess of light. And suddenly, she couldn’t feel her body. It was changing, she knew that much, but she no longer felt Selyf’s cock surging in her ass. Her flesh, her blood, and all her organs tingled. She felt as though she were floating, if only because she couldn’t feel the moss beneath her chest.

  She saw the world from high above. She heard the heartbeat of her mother and felt the tranquillity of the womb.

  When she emerged from ecstasy to hear Selyf groaning and feel him filling her hole, she growled deep in her throat. With a knowing smile, she pushed her buttocks back against him until he moaned in her ear. His body shook. He held very still on top of her. This was the moment she’d heard spoken of, and it was more perfect than she could ever have hoped. Under the blood-red cassock, she felt utterly at ease.

  The dampness of his breath settled in her hair as a familiar voice cried, “Trysta!”

  She froze in place. So did Selyf.

  Whose voice was that?

  Bedwyn ran to them from the side of the mount.

  “Trysta?” he repeated. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, oh yes,” she panted. How might she get out of this bind? “Fine, my caru.” Selyf cringed on top of her, but she carried on, “The professor has helped me immensely tonight. He’s taken away my female problem.”

  “Are you certain?” Selyf whispered into her ear. “We haven’t checked yet.”

  “I have every confidence,” she said. She knew her body, knew what had happened.

  When Selyf shifted from her back, buttoning his cassock as quickly
as he could, Trysta turned on her side. As she faced Bedwyn, she brushed bits of moss from her cheek and her chest, from her belly and thighs, and from the dark hair on her flat new mound.

  Tracing her fingers into her slit, she felt its silky wetness for the first time and her eyes filled with tears of joy.

  Bedwyn stared. His words came out mumbled and unclear. “I… followed you…”

  “Come,” Selyf bid. “Take off your clothes, Bedwyn. Everything is all right now. You can be with your cara.”

  Chapter Seven

  With a look of naïve pleasure on his face, Bedwyn barrelled out of his clothes.

  Trysta took Selyf’s hand while her boy was thus distracted. “I have no words to thank you. You will stay, will you not?”

  Selyf glanced at Bedwyn as the boy tripped on his pants and tumbled to the ground. Trysta laughed as he dusted himself off and fiddled with jacket buttons.

  “I don’t understand what you see in him,” Selyf said. “But I will stay if you wish.”

  “There is nothing to understand,” she mused. “He’s my caru. That’s all there is.”

  Bedwyn raced to the altar like a simple pet dog. He stood before them with a huge smile on his face, hands on hips, and an erection sticking out like a fleshy sword. Everything about him made her happy.

  “I’m ready,” he said. “What now?”

  A smile grew across her lips as she reached for his cock. Its flesh was smooth, but its core firm as a tree. When she squeezed his shaft, he threw his head back and moaned, “That feels good!”

  Selyf took Trysta’s hands and led her up from the mossy altar. “Lie back on the bench,” he instructed Bedwyn.

  He lay on the low bench with his bottom at the base and his feet on the ground. Trysta had seen him shirtless many times. She’d seen him naked, swimming, and yet this time his nudity meant so much more. Finally, she could unveil herself and he would see her for who she’d always been inside. A tingle ran through her as she watched his cock surge of its own volition.

 

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