Insatiable (The Curse of Avalon Book 3)

by Sariah Skye

  “Pretty much.” He tilted his head back and laughed easily. “I won’t tell her this though, I promise.” I brushed my finger lightly over his nose affectionately. “But I just want to know… why? It is surprising that you would be… you know.”

  “Well, that partially has to do with my past. The only way I could deal with it was to suffer pain the way my opponents had. I couldn’t go back and kill them again, but… this was the next best thing.” Mathias sighed. “It was very difficult finding a place that would even accommodate me. Apparently, a six-foot-seven, three-hundred-pound guy just doesn’t scream sub, you know?”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s stupid.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure things are different now and I haven’t gone in years. Early nineties. And it had little to do with actual sex; I’d still get my energy from it when… well I don’t want to go there. You know,” he said sheepishly. He clenched his lips in a firm line, thinking momentarily before speaking. “Does that like, make you lose respect for me?”

  “Never.” I carefully held his face and bent over to kiss his cheek. And then the other. “But, just don’t expect me to be your dominatrix. I’m not that sort of person.”

  He cocked a brow. “Are you sure? You can be pretty saucy when you want to be.”

  Laughing, I lightly slapped his shoulder. “Also, I’m not sure BDSM is the best way to deal with your pain, hun. The people that are into that are… well I don’t think they’re hiding from something. Maybe they are. But it doesn’t seem healthy to me.”

  “It’s not.” He agreed. “But I did the best I could… Ava, you realize I can’t really feel a lot of pain, right?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Except when I’m… ah… turned on. Then I can. So…” he stuttered, incredibly uncomfortable.

  “I understand, I think. I’m glad you told me.” I leaned into him for a hug, he rested his chin on my shoulder, his scruff scratching roughly at my skin reminding me I was still naked. “You really need to learn that you’re so much more than your past. You are capable of more than killing and destruction. I’ve seen it, it’s amazing.”

  “Yeah?” He asked, his tone full of insecurity, and then he laughed sardonically. “I always thought it was ironic. Here I was, the biggest pansy inside, the most pacifist, and I’m given these strange powers that help me do the one thing I hate more than anything: cause pain and kill.”

  “Or maybe, that’s exactly why you were given them,” I suggested. “Because you wouldn’t abuse it. Can you imagine that magic in the hands of a warlord or dictator?” I shivered violently at the prospect.

  He considered this. “You have a point.”

  “Of course I do, I’m a fucking genius,” I jested. He smiled and laughed gently at me. “And look at what you could do with it. You built this house, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged modestly. “Everyone helped but… yeah.”

  “See? You have to forgive yourself your transgressions, Mathias. You need to let yourself heal, and move on,” I said softly, carefully caressing his jawline.

  “I’m not sure how, but with you, I’m trying. And I have hope that I can for the first time ever,” he said, his penetrative gaze held my own. “I do love you, Ava. I didn’t think I was capable, but…”

  “Clearly you are. And…” I lowered my voice, biting my lip seductively. “Maybe we can figure out a way to accommodate your… secrets… at some time in the future.”

  His lips curved into a sultry smirk. “If you say so.”

  “But no weird sex dungeons; that is just not me.” I shook my head dismissively, and he laughed heartily.

  I brushed my thumbs over his attractive face, his swollen lips begging to be kissed again. Still feeling charged and ready, I melted into him, and carefully took his lower lip in mine, sucking gently.

  And the crimson-rimmed eyes were back in an instant. His expression was intense, and he hesitated to reciprocate, maybe gauging my reaction. His breathing quickened again, and something sparked inside.

  “Oh fuck,” he said, his voice rumbling low in my belly. “I want you so bad right now.” He didn’t wait for a response, he collapsed himself into me, like a sledgehammer through a wall and we melded together. First lips; his kiss was intense and feverish, like he was claiming me for his own. I liked it when he felt secure enough to do his thing. Normally outside of the bedroom, he was a force; a body of subtle intimidation who got things done on his own terms, and his terms alone. It was nice to see that side of him come out now.

  His hands roamed over my body with firm determination; he grabbed my ass tightly, squeezed my thigh, or roughly kneaded a breast. My body thrummed with heat and desire. He threaded his hand through my hair, and crashed my mouth into his again, biting and sucking and tormenting my lips with intense kisses. I breathed a throaty moan when he slid down my body, taking a nipple in between his teeth, and sucking in deeply.

  The bit of painful pleasure, mixed with the wet heat and the molten fire deep inside made me pant, made my heart quicken. I tightly gripped his shoulder, and then harder when his hand dipped inside my panties. He wasted no time claiming me with his hand, pressing between the slick folds, and seeking my entrance. Little explosions burst under my eyes, and I cried out loudly. Rhys could probably hear it, and hopefully the jerk enjoyed it.

  I went limp against him, using his strong body for stability; the sensations were strong and encompassing, all logical thought out the window as he played with my swollen clit. I forced my eyes open, he watched my reactions intensely; his eyes heavily lidded and his face was full of desire. He moved his fingers quickly over the taut bud and I bucked, moaning loudly. That was it. I pulled out of reach and stood, pushing my panties over my thighs and quickly kicked them aside—they were soaking wet anyhow— and stood before him in heels only, completely vulnerable and exposed.

  “Oh shit…” Mathias breathed in deeply, assuaging that feral disposition. He gently pried my legs apart where I stood, and promptly sought my clit with his mouth and tongue, his hands pinned my ass against him.

  I hissed through my teeth, my fingers clutching at his hair, and as the pressure built below under the masterful skill of his tongue, I accidentally gripped too hard. Again. Or maybe I meant to do it—I’d never tell. His fingers dug into my ass cheeks, drawing me closer as he moaned into my core.

  Feeling crazed and out of control, one hand still clutched his hair, the other reached down to grab a fist of shirt, hoping to pull it upward and off.

  He looked up at me with his bedroom eyes, the sight of his face between my legs did all sorts of crazed things to my mind, but they all amalgamated into one emotion: I felt like a goddess being worshipped.

  He broke his mouth away, and I began to protest, still breathing heavily.

  “Upstairs.” That was his only command. I grinned devilishly, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me—still stark-naked mind you—through the room to the stairs. He paused momentarily.

  “Shouldn’t we grab your clothes?” He asked.

  Laughing with mischief, I said, “Nope.” I secretly liked the idea of the guys walking in, finding my clothes strewn about everywhere. I probably shouldn’t but…

  He met my mischief with his own mischievous grin. “Bad. You are bad.” I giggled all the way up the stairs, our feet thundering loudly through the hallways.

  If Rhys had no idea what we were doing before… he sure did now.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The second we passed through his bedroom door, he kicked it shut with one of his long legs, not bothering with any lights. I stepped backward towards the bed and he stalked me predatorily, his mouth hungry, eyes heavily lidded with desire. He quickly shed his shirt, pulling it over his heavily sculpted, muscular chest and throwing it aside. I sucked in my lip, drinking in how gorgeous he was, grinning at my fortune. He was mine.

  Mathias shrugged out of his pants and underwear, not bothering with any ceremony, dropping them at his feet as he stalked me with
all his wonderful, naked glory. His golden skin shimmered in the moonlight through the window from lust and a sheen of sweat, his stacks upon stacks of muscle and thick arms flexed and released as he pinned himself over me at the edge of the bed. His grin was feral, and positively charged as I climbed back on Mathias’ large bed with the blue bedding, my hands eagerly seeking the ridges of his firm abdomen, trailing into a deep “V” that gave way to his glorious, large, and completely rock-solid dick. He hissed in a breath when I slid my hand over him, seeking his lips with my own, I drank in his throaty moan as I closed my grip over him, and slid my hand up and down his length.

  Our breathing was frantic as he gripped under my arms and pulled me up on the bed. I reluctantly released him so I could crawl backward to rest my head on the pillows. I eagerly spread my legs, beckoning him in, and he let out a low growl, grinning wickedly. He paused his ascent to take my legs in his hands, and quickly pried off the heels I still wore, tossing them aside with loud thuds as they hit the floor.

  He covered my body with his, the head of his cock dangerously hitting the top of my thigh. Everything in me hummed, every nerve awake with anticipation. He leaned over, his soft hair falling into my face. I threaded my hands in his scalp, pinning it in place out of his eyes as he kissed me feverishly, our tongues a tangle of passion. Feeling like I was about to burst, I tipped my hips gently, my clit grazing his length, hinting at his next action.

  “Mathias…” I stammered breathlessly between kisses, “I want you. Now. Please.”

  He let out a quiet moan. “I need you,” he said huskily and blessedly positioned himself over my entrance. I was so slick his cock needed no guidance, it found its spot easily and we both groaned loudly at the tantalizing sensation.

  “Gods that feels good,” he murmured, taking small thrusts, burying himself deeper inside me each time, taking care to be slow until I was properly stretched to take him without pain. Well, the bad pain at least.

  I fisted his hair and buried my face in the crook of my elbow, biting gently as he groaned, long and hard, languidly thrusting until he filled me up completely.

  “Oh hell…” I pounded the bed with my fist, the sensation of being stretched to the brim was almost too much to take. Even though I didn’t think I could possibly feel fuller, I hooked a leg around his waist and he sheathed himself even deeper. I wanted—needed more, needed all of him, needed to be claimed in every single way possible. I couldn’t believe I was having these thoughts—after all I longed for my independence, but this was different. This was trusting someone entirely and feeling safe enough to let someone in—both literally and figuratively.

  “You okay?” He asked gently. His eyes were still hooded, his forehead shimmering with heady perspiration.

  Not able to find words, I just nodded quickly. Satisfied, he lowered himself to his elbows and hooked his hands under my shoulders, tipping himself at a new angle that hit just the right spot. The most sensitive nerves inside blazed with heat and pulsed quickly; I almost came right then and there. Hard. My peaked breasts scraping against his taut muscle. He eyed me carefully, making doubly sure his massive length wasn’t hurting me in the wrong ways.

  “I’m fine, promise.” I was so turned on, so ready; I bucked my hips against him, whimpering gently.

  Slowly he began to draw himself out, and slowly he pushed back in; hitting the deepest spot inside that begged for attention. He sought my lips once, and twice before he began his thrusts. Panting, I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of spice and earth, letting it invade all of my senses.

  He quickened his pace slightly and I rose and fell to meet him, craving more of him. Everything spun out of control around us, there was only me and him and the heady desire we felt. His eyes rolled back into his head, I knew he was having trouble being patient.

  “Harder…” I breathed desperately, and he wasted no time picking up the pace.

  His hips slammed into mine as he ground his pelvis into me, rubbing my clit deliciously, adding more to the fire and I was slowly losing control. I cried out with every thrust, every movement, digging my fingers into his back or fisting his hair which only made him moan heavily and go faster. Which was the plan.

  Tiny explosions began to form in my vision and I knew I was close. The pressure built inside, ebbed and grew with each fevered pulse.

  My orgasm came quick and hard. It surprised me, I didn’t think I was that close again. My hips tipped into him, beckoning for more, my back arching sharply as I came undone, completely shattering around him. The clenching of my walls inside coaxed out his own release and he cried out lowly, riding us both through the pleasure, neither of us wanting it to end. I panted, moaned, clawed at his muscular back as the orgasm ebbed to a fever pitch, lingering for a couple of seconds, making me breathless and weak as it subsided little by little.

  He thrust one last time, hard, earning another sharp cry from me—oh god it still felt good—and he lost it, slumping over the top of me, his chest heaving and falling in time with my own as he buried his face in my neck, laughing gently.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered.

  I had no words. Except, I poked him in the shoulder, and pointed up. The air around us was misted and shimmered white, and a gold string wrapped around us, binding us together. I lifted my hand and the string stretched to reach it. He did the same, and joined his with mine, each of our ends seeking the other.

  A month ago. That was weird. Now? It was fucking beautiful. An absolute expression of our emotions.

  “That really is something,” Mathias said, panting hard. “I wonder if it’ll always do that.”

  “Probably. It’s the love or something, I guess.” I shrugged under him with nonchalance. “It’s pretty though, huh?”

  “Like you, my love.” Tired, lazy, and spent, he brushed a lazy kiss across my lips. I gently kissed back before he slumped over to my side. He fumbled for the blankets, and we rolled into them. He rolled over on his side and pulled me into him. Still sweaty and hot, but not wanting to part we pressed our bodies together, entangling our legs. I rested my head against his chest and he draped a heavy arm across my shoulders. I didn’t give two shits about being messy, I didn’t want to move. At all. Ever again. I felt safe and warm and absolutely sated as my eyes involuntarily slumped shut. Our foreheads touched, and he lightly traced circles against my shoulder blade. It wasn’t long before my breathing turned even, my heart slowed, and I drifted off, entangled with Mathias, safe and hidden away from the rest of the world.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mathias

  A light chirping sound rang out from nearby. I didn’t bother to peel my eyes open; it was just my stupid cell phone. And right now, a Trojan horse couldn’t drag me from this spot.

  Almost two-thousand years did I wait for this moment. I didn’t think it would ever come. Nineteen-hundred and some odd years of pain, loneliness, aimlessness, and worst of all: shame. I didn’t deserve love, and I certainly didn’t deserve her. But, she was starting to make me believe I did.

  I didn’t think it was possible that I could live and feel like a normal, human male. What did that mean? For years upon years I lived weakened and bothered when my lust would be uncontrollable. Not even lust for anyone in particular; it was just the curse. And this morning after a passionate night with her, I woke up feeling one-hundred percent satiated after a night of confessions and mind-blowing sex. Honestly? Even though I wasn’t that person anymore—a masochist—it was good to get it off my chest.

  Being an incubus unless you gave completely in to your desires, there was always a nagging hunger in the back of your mind; like an addiction, reminding you constantly you were alone and unsatisfied. If you were like me, you never gave into your desires—because your true desires were impossible—and it was a constant, vile feeling in the pit of your stomach, wearing and gnawing at you. I never, ever once thought I could attain a relationship, complete with love, affection, and adoration and wake up the next morn
ing with that little gnawing, nagging feeling completely gone. I almost felt like an entirely normal, red-blooded human male, and not this supernatural freak I was.

  For some gods-forsaken reason, unbeknownst to me, she didn’t see me as a freak. She saw past the ugliest parts of me and saw… well, me.

  Avalon Dawson, the feisty, untamable yet entirely vulnerable blonde lay peacefully and completely naked in my bed, in my room, next to me. Her wild hair was spread out over the blue pillow; blonde, with hints of lavender that had faded with time, and her eyelids fluttered gently, her kissable lips gently curved at one end into a light smile. She stirred gently and pressed herself against me, her soft nipples grazing tantalizingly over my hard chest; I had to clench my eyes and breathe slowly to prevent the rageful monster from coming out. Sometimes, the incubus lust could trigger the feral behavior as well. But, no; no monster this time. Just a pang of hot desire that shot straight for my crotch. Entirely normal.

  Dear gods this woman drives me mad… in all the best ways of course. I draped my arm over her shoulders and held her tightly, tenderly grazing a finger over the creamy skin of her shoulder, leaving trails of gooseflesh in its wake.

  My phone chirped again, and I had half a mind to chuck the damn thing across the room into a wall. Knowing me, though, I’d probably shoot it past the wall, the bathroom, and through the hallway. With any luck it’d take out Rhys, so there was that. I snickered at the morbid thought; I did owe him a debt of gratitude for bringing Ava home safely. Perhaps I should go easier on him.

  What was the fun in that, though?

  Another chirp, and I grumbled lowly. Couldn’t I just have one day to be totally normal? One day just to lay in bed, make passionate love, and sleep off the afterglow of orgasm?

  See? I can say it. I chuckled to myself. I’m not that prude just… reserved, thank you.

  Reluctantly, I shifted gently and reached an arm out to my nightstand, pawing clumsily for the stupid piece of technology that wouldn’t shut up. The display lit up, revealing five new text messages from the guys. I wanted to pout—come on, just one more hour at least? After nineteen-hundred-and-some years, I deserved at least that.