Book Read Free

Insatiable (The Curse of Avalon Book 3)

Page 8

by Sariah Skye


  “Avie—seriously you should ask if they have anything cheaper! They can’t all be that much!” He insisted, completely oblivious that the woman was ogling him.

  “No, Trys, that’s how much they all cost,” I said through gritted teeth. “Come on.” I urged him across the store, opposite of the saleslady, to a shelf with the cotton underwear in drawers.

  “Och, ye lassies get screwed,” Trystan grumbled. “I could buy four of mine for one of yours, and ye get more fabric! It’s daft!”

  I pressed my fingers to my temples, biting my lip. I wanted to be irritated with him, but I really couldn’t, especially because he was right—the price was astronomical for what you got, and I was just crabby in general because before we left for the mall, my car wouldn’t start. “It is,” I agreed. “But it’s just how it is.”

  Trystan raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “It’s madness!”

  Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Bash lingering outside the store through the clear window, sitting on a bench, laughing openly. He raised his brow in a look that clearly meant “see what I mean?” In response I just flicked him off and mouthed, “I’ll get you, Sebastian.”

  That did nothing but send him into further peals of laughter. He was indifferent to the people walking down the hallways, staring at him oddly.

  I didn’t realize I’d left Trystan to his own devices and he began wandering through the racks again. I saw him touch the tag of a cream-colored push up bra, and I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head. This time he didn’t even bother with English; he started exclaiming in Gaelic.

  “What?” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in confusion.

  “Sorry, lassie. I meant ‘these bastards are out of their minds.’ Seventy-dollars for a brassiere?” A slow smile spread across his lips as he glanced back at me. “This would look nice on ye, though.”

  I rolled my eyes, swiping him away from the undergarment with my hand. “That’s not my size.”

  “But—” He began to protest but I raised a finger.

  “Something is weird,” I observed. I glanced back over my shoulder at Bash who was leaning against the bench, involved in his phone. Women were walking past him, glancing at him...and walking away.

  “What is it, lassie?” Trystan questioned, swiping my finger and kissing the tip gently, a flirty grin on his lips.

  I motioned behind him. The woman from earlier was still lingering about, but the glassiness in her eyes had gone. She was folding sweatpants on a shelf and she only glanced back at Trystan once. Another woman—her coworker assumedly, sauntered through the aisle nearby us. She had a clipboard and pen in hand, and she slowed when she past Trystan. I was prepared to bitch at her but she just raised a brow, her eyes resting briefly on his tight backside in his blue jeans. She noticed me, smiled curtly in recognition, and walked away.

  “What?” Trystan asked.

  “Women aren’t paying attention to you. Not like before,” I said quietly to him.

  “Oh. Aye?” He replied, confused, glancing down at himself, smoothing a hand over his chest like there was something wrong. He wore a black t-shirt and blue jeans, and looked positively delectable if I did say so myself. That aside, the incubus curse generally made them irresistible regardless of how they dressed. “That’s odd.”

  “Does that bother you?” I asked expectantly.

  “Well, no—truly,” he insisted quickly, crumbling under the weight of my stare. “It’s just... unusual. In all the while I’ve been this cursed bastard, I’ve never just had people leave me alone.”

  “Hmm...” I said thoughtfully, drumming my fingers on my arm. “I wonder...”

  “What’s that, lass?” He asked.

  “Summer and I were out for coffee, and Bash was with us. This was a couple weeks ago, now,” I said. “But she saw it firsthand; women were just falling over themselves for Bash. It pissed me off—obviously. She had a theory, maybe I just needed to ‘claim’ you. Maybe our magic just cancels each other out?” I suggested.

  Trystan stroked his chin contemplatively. “Aye, that’s a good theory. You should tell Bash about that later.”

  “Yeah, I will. After all this club shit.” I grimaced, glancing down at myself. I was dressed in what I was dubbing business/club wear; my black skirt, knee-high black boots with only a tiny kitten heel so I could walk without killing myself, a green button up blouse, tied at the waist and unbuttoned halfway to expose a sparkly silver camisole. My makeup was Summer-influenced, the works: a smoky eye, matte ruby-red lipstick, and all the right foundation and contouring. I piled all my hair in an updo to stay cool, but some strands had fallen out of place into my face, softening the look of the severe bun on top of my head.

  “Still nervous, luv?” There was a hint of mischief in his tone and he reached out a hand, placing it on my hip. He leaned into me, his breath warm against my neck. I shivered lightly. “Is there a fitting room, here?” he whispered huskily into my ear.

  My head snapped up. “No way. Uh-uh. We are not doing it in the fitting room. There’s no way—” but before I could finish pleading my case, he grabbed a couple of bras dangling from hangers on the nearby display and thrust them at me. He clutched my free hand, flashed me a suggestive smile, and began to pull me through the store.

  I dug the heels of my shoes into the floor, trying to anchor him backwards. “Trystan! Stop it!” My eyes frantically darted around the store, searching for anyone who could be privy to what Trystan was thinking.

  Trystan spun on his heels quickly. Catching his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes roved over my face and body; I watched his irises turn crimson with lust. He gently licked his lips and cupped my face with two hands. “Are you sure, lassie?” He challenged, and before I could protest, his mouth hungrily sought mine. Right there in the middle of the store. It wasn’t a slow or easy kiss, it was hot and demanding. I rested my hands on his firm abdomen for stability; my knees liquefied as I struggled to stay upright from the molten fire his kiss was causing, stimulating my nerves and curling my toes.

  My breath hitched as he pulled away; his gaze was washed with the haze of longing. “But—” I began, but he quickly quieted me with another kiss, this one more intense than the last. He laughed gently when he broke the lip-lock, clearly pleased the effect he was having on me. Words caught in my throat, too confused with desire to form any coherent thought. He clutched my hand once again and dragged me over to the nearest saleslady.

  “My girlfriend needs to try these on,” he said, his green eyes still partially hooded, a flirtatious grin on his face.

  The saleslady just glanced at him briefly and nodded, motioning for us to follow her to the set of black stalls with pink walls and carpet. Still holding the bras—which weren’t anywhere near my actual size—she unlocked one of the doors, and urged me in.

  Trystan began to follow, but she frowned. “I’m afraid men aren’t allowed in the fitting rooms,” she spoke with hesitance, like she wasn’t believing what she was saying.

  Trystan acquiesced. “Aye, I’ll just stay here then.” Flashing her a killer smile, she glanced at me next. I grinned awkwardly in reply and stepped into the stall, confused at what Trystan was doing.

  He waited until she walked away. “Avie. Shield me,” he instructed and against my better judgment, I tossed the undergarments into the bench of the stall and grabbed him by his hand, heart thumping rapidly against my ribcage, adrenaline boiling sky-high. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…” I murmured, calling for the magic inside that now came much, much easier than before. I didn’t even have to search for the buzz or the beat, I just knew it was there. The air shimmered around us gently and I knew the shield was working.

  Trystan laughed wickedly and yanked me intently into the stall, shutting the door behind us. I swallowed thickly as he stared me down with that predatory gaze that told me he knew exactly what he wanted, and exactly how he was going to get it.

  He threaded his fingers through t
he hair at my neck and guided my body into his. My heart began palpitating and butterflies flapped violently in my stomach. One more intense, demanding kiss, his tongue eagerly seeking mine stifled a quiet moan and I was a complete goner.

  Trystan reached a long arm down and grazed his fingers over the bare skin of one of my legs and slid them up under my skirt; the other still wrapped around my neck. He pulled his lips away from mine and trailed his tongue down my neck, over my collarbone, and down to the top of a breast that peeked out of the top of my blouse.

  A slow smile spread across my lips. There was something ridiculously thrilling about being here, right now with Trystan; not just my nerves that needed to relax, not just the notion of getting caught—and who cared? My shield could probably hide us—but it felt so good to just give in once in a while to the baser instincts. It was something I never would have considered before, but Trystan was very sexily persuasive, and I couldn’t disagree; I needed to relax. Because the two fucking times last night with Xander just weren’t enough, my inner monologue admonished. Well, it had been at the time, but…

  The Avalon magic made me crave these boys all the time. All the time. It wasn’t just their amazing physiques, their handsome faces or the way they smelled, but the fact that even without sex they just made me feel good. But, it was giving in—allowing myself to trust someone else completely; to know that if I fell too hard, they’d be there to catch me. And vice-versa. It was the ultimate expression of love, and I was wholly beginning to understand wholeheartedly what the women of Avalon stood for. Love. Passion. And ultimately, trust.

  I lifted my thigh, curling my leg around his, urging his hand to seek my center. If I was going to do this, I was going to enjoy the fuck out of it. No pun intended. The hell, I’m waxing philosophical in the fitting room of a Victoria’s Secret. Just screw the man, Ava…and enjoy it.

  “What are you thinking, lassie?” He bent over to whisper in my ear.

  “That you should probably hurry before we get caught,” I replied, with a wink. I gripped my hand into his hip, and let it rove over his waist, palming the hard length that had formed in his jeans.

  “Oh. Aye.” He said through clenched teeth as I massaged him gently, feeling his size increase. His head tipped backward, and he let out a low, quiet moan before swatting my hand away. “Ye want quick, eh? I’ll do as ye ask, given the situation.”

  “Just do it…” I pleaded, as he pushed my panties aside to run his fingers over the folds underneath that had begun to grow quite slick. He smirked from the corner of his lips, obviously enjoying what he felt. Applying a slight pressure, he rubbed my core gently until my head rolled on my shoulders, and I arched into him. He dipped two fingers inside, testing me, taunting the nerves inside quickly. I tried to softly grind against his hand, but he pulled it away, releasing my leg. I started to protest before I realized what he was doing.

  With a taunting grin he moved to unbutton his pants, pushing them and his black boxers down, just low enough for his cock to spring free. Like me, he was definitely ready to go. I grinned up at him and moved to take him in my hand, but he caught my grip. “Not this time, Avie.” He pressed himself against me, hard length and all, brushing his lips over mine tauntingly as he tightly grabbed my ass and lifted me with little effort, and stepped forward, pressing me into the wall of the fitting room as my arms wrapped around his neck for support. And so I could feel his strong muscular shoulders under my hands.

  I let out a surprised noise and winced quickly; the noise reverberated over the walls, and we heard the sound of heels clacking against the tile floor.

  “Shit…” The air shimmered again, as I threw up the invisibility and put a finger to my lips, telling Trystan to be quiet.

  “Hello?” A voice echoed. Trystan and I stared at each other nervously, anxiously waiting for her to leave. Her muffled footsteps sounded against the carpeted floor and she paused in front of our stall. “Anyone here?” Trystan and I remained motionless and eventually her footsteps turned in the opposite direction, and she was gone.

  I exhaled with relief. “Oh thank—” But I didn’t have time to dwell; in a flash, using the wall for leverage, Trystan quickly pushed aside my panties further, and with one hand still gripping my ass for balance, he took his own length and tipped his hips, seeking my entrance. My breath quickened, and I gasped when in one swift movement, he was inside me just like that, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

  “Ye all right, luv?” He asked hesitantly as I closed my eyes, familiarizing myself with being stretched out and filled to the brim by him. It was a delectable and satisfying feeling, a lazy grin spread across my lips and my eyes opened slowly and hooded. I couldn’t speak, just nodded, catching his gaze with mine to assure him.

  “Good.” And he began to rock against me, pushing his length inside further and I buried my face into his shoulder to stifle my moan.

  Trystan wasn’t careful or patient. He thrust himself against me, inside me quickly, the pressure fast building, the explosions in my eyes already forming. A combination of the location, the feverish pace, the way he panted rapidly into the crook of my neck, his tight grip against my back, it didn’t take long before the release of orgasm was imminent. Especially when he took my arms, and pinned them over my head, pressing himself against me even tighter, giving himself better access to rock his hips.

  One hand pinned my hands, and the other snuck underneath the skirt, and I gasped, crying out into my arm as he worked my clit; pinching and rubbing and massaging, bringing all the nerves to their highest point. My release was sudden, and I clenched my legs tighter against him, drawing him further inside. Trystan grunted, letting out a very quiet moan, his breath warming my skin and sending shivers down my spine.

  The little room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter, and humid; my vision blurring with explosions and heady, white mist.

  Trystan’s pace became fevered as he thrust into me, as my release ebbed around his cock. Finally, his back arched and he grunted low and long, his body finally relaxing.

  I rested my head against his chest, breathing frantically as the orgasm began to subside; his and mine.

  He gripped my ass again, urging my legs to release his waist and I was lowered to the ground. He turned to me, grinning like a happily, sated fool. “Feel better, luv?” He inquired through raspy breath.

  I couldn’t speak; my breath too ragged, nerves still too stimulated. Still I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down to my lips for a sensual, slow kiss.

  “Och, Avie…keep doing that and I’ll have to take you again,” he said when our lips parted, and I grinned.

  We heard footsteps again, and the sounds of female voices. My eyes widened, and I tossed up the shield, just in case.

  The saleslady was bringing someone else into a room, the door opening and shutting behind her. There were rustling sounds of a purse being set down and clothing being unzipped or fastened; the saleslady’s shoes sounded distant as they clacked against the tile.

  “Let’s go, quick,” I whispered, adjusting my skirt and underwear and blouse in the proper places. I smoothed out my hair and wiped off any smeared lipstick, as Trystan zipped himself back up and adjusted. I opened the door and peered out; there was no one immediately near except for the woman in the dressing room, so I quickly motioned for him to follow, hand in hand and we quickly darted out of the fitting room.

  Trystan whistled nonchalantly, and followed nearby me quickly and quietly, not commenting on anything else. His cheeks were still flushed, lips kiss-swollen, and anyone with a brain would have realized what just happened. Feeling somewhat guilty, I quickly grabbed handfuls of the expensive underwear in my hands, as well as a couple new bras in the largest cup size they had and hoped they worked and brought them up to the cashier.

  Trystan’s eyes widened when she told me the total and I held out my hand for Trystan to give me my credit card he was holding, all the while avoiding the stare of the cashier.
r />   I glared and slapped at him scoldingly when I realized he didn’t pull out my card at all, rather he pulled out his and handed it to her. “Trystan!”

  He shrugged. “Eh, lassie. It’s my fault half of them are ruined anyway.”

  The cashier’s gaze switched between us, a small smirk on her thin lips. Her coworker bagged up my new items and she instructed Trystan to sign a display on the counter. He winked at me, as she handed me my things and I just shook my head. “I could have bought these,” I reprimanded.

  “Save it, luv, for your new car. I’m insisting upon that, now. You can’t drive that unreliable thing in the winter,” He said. I sighed, he was right. But still.

  Trystan crooked my arm with his and we exited the store, still smirking playfully. Bash was still on the bench, flipping through his phone and he glanced up when he noticed us.

  “Uh huh,” was all he said, eyeing us. “Have fun, I see?”

  “Shut up,” I scolded but secretly I was amused. “I need a bathroom,” I muttered. I was eager to get to the restroom, change into new underwear, and well…freshen up. There was one just down the corridor past a bunch of stores, so I made a beeline but slowed when Bash took my bag in one hand, and clutched his hand with mine, bumping me affectionately with his shoulder.

  Trystan entwined my fingers with his, swinging our hands as we walked. I glanced between them both, feeling both proud and humbled I was sandwiched between these two gorgeous men with the kind hearts. A few people even stared openly, and for once it didn’t look like they were drawn by the incubus-ness. I supposed it wasn’t often one woman walked around, appearing romantically linked with two men.

  “Say, you notice anything strange?” I asked the guys, specifically Bash, tipping my head at a couple of female passers-by as they crossed our paths.

  Bash rose a brow, watching as the two attractive, young ladies barely stole us a single glance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

 

‹ Prev