MAEVE
Arthur and I lay under the apple trees for the rest of the morning. I thought he’d kiss me again. The hunger in his eyes certainly desired it. But his words and his touches were almost more intimate.
Every time my fingers grazed his, or his breath tickled my skin, I thought of jumping him and pressing my mouth to his again. But something held me back. Lots of things. The dream. The fact the guys were all hiding something from me, that Corbin at least knew who I was before I arrived at Briarwood. The look on Rowan’s face this morning. Emily’s tinkling laugh.
I thought about what Arthur said to me, about how he’d lost control. My chest throbbed – not with tightness, but with a weird nakedness, as if Arthur’s story had opened a gaping, bleeding wound through which all my pain and grief now poured.
Arthur said Briarwood was a place of healing. I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the sorrow throbbing behind it, knowing in my heart this was only the beginning of a great unleashing. I felt sliced up, pieces of me chopped off and scattered on the wind. I’d lost pieces when the Crawfords died, more pieces when Pastor Eric took our house away, and more when MIT rescinded my scholarship. Maeve Moore nee Crawford was just bits of flesh and misery, clusters of lamenting electrons floating in the cosmos. But maybe in this place, where fairytales were real and there was a hot guy around every corner, maybe I could put all the pieces back together again.
Arthur placed his arm around me and my body flared with desire. The wound in my chest gaped a little wider as the ache between my legs rose up to meet it. Oh, bollocks. Such a great phrase. It rolled off the tongue even better than goddammit. Bollocks seemed an accurate descriptor for this situation I found myself in. I shifted my weight around, trying to shake away the sensation, but I accidentally brushed my thigh against Arthur’s crotch, and his breath caught on his lips, and that only made things worse.
Great, now I was more confused than ever. What did I even want from Arthur? He wasn’t the kind of guy I’d usually consider dating. I shouldn’t even be dating anyone. I didn’t know how long I’d even be staying in England. What would happen to us if I had to sell the castle? Not to mention the fact that I was a scientist and he was… was a blond-haired Aragorn who could shoot fire from his palms. It was stupid. It would never work.
But the flutter in my chest and the ache in my stomach begged to differ. My parents chastity teachings hadn’t rubbed off on me – I didn’t have to date Arthur to… to shag him. It didn’t have to go anywhere. It could be my wild English fling before I settled down to a life of equations and working my ass off to get into the space program.
The idea had its merits, but was I ready for sex? Would it tear open the wound in my chest so I bled my sorrow everywhere? Would it break me apart completely? And was Arthur even the right guy for that? He said himself that he burned whoever he touched. And the others…
“What are you thinking about?” Arthur asked, his breath tickling my ear. “Your face went serious all of a sudden.”
I’m thinking about jumping your bones. I’m thinking that you’re the first of the guys at Briarwood to spill your guts to me. I’m thinking that if I let you in, you’ll burn me, and maybe I’ll like it, and maybe it will turn me to ashes.
I shrugged. “I’m just trying to square up everything I learned about the fae and your coven with my multiverse theory. There’s a lot of thinking I have to do, and I’d really like to start setting up some equipment and writing this all down. I need to formulate a proper hypothesis.”
“Can you explain this theory of yours to me, in really, really simple terms?”
I was still trying to demonstrate the multiverse theory to Arthur using daisies I’d picked off the lawn when Flynn called us for lunch. We ate out on the porch again – Flynn said it was a rule in England that you couldn’t waste a single day of sunshine because we only got a few. Rowan had made some traditional English dish called Toad-in-the-Hole, which sounded disgusting, but was actually delicious; beautiful, thick homemade sausages cooked inside a giant savory dough and smothered with a thick gravy. I had three helpings, all washed down with some HP sauce (it was starting to grow on me) and a glass of elderflower cider Arthur had made. All the other guys had cider except for Rowan, who had a cup of steaming tea.
“I’ve compiled some research you might find interesting in the library,” Corbin said to me. “If you give me a list of the implements you want, Arthur and I will run into town and grab them this afternoon.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask about why Corbin was lying about where he knew me from, but I decided to hold off until we were alone.
I shook my head. “I have to come with you. I really need to choose this stuff on my own. I’ll be fine,” I glowered at Corbin’s drawn face. “Arthur’s already taught me tons of sword moves, and if you all come with me, I’m sure we’ll be fine. We could even take a taxi – they’re not going to try anything out in the open, surely.”
“I don’t like it,” Corbin frowned.
“Oh, go on, you grumpy bastard.” Flynn speared the last piece off Corbin’s plate and shoved it in his mouth. “We can’t stay locked up here forever. My arms are about to fall off from all the hammering I’ve done in the forge this morning. Us Irishmen start to turn green if we don’t set foot in a pub every twenty-four hours.”
“Wag off, Flynn,” Corbin growled.
“I think we should go,” Arthur said. “Maeve’s been telling me about her theory, and I think there might be something to it. Any knowledge could potentially give us an advantage against the fae, and right now we need everything we can get.”
“We could talk to the girl,” Rowan mumbled into his chest.
The guys fell silent. “What did you say, mate?” Corbin asked.
“The woman whose baby went missing yesterday. If she saw anything weird, she wouldn’t tell the police. But she might tell us.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” I said. Rowan beamed. “It’s settled. We’re going to town.”
“Not today though,” Corbin said, pushing his chair out and collecting the plates. “We have a surprise for you this afternoon.”
“Another surprise?”
“This one was all my idea,” Flynn said. He grabbed my hand and dragged me around the side of the garden, where a flat lawn stretched out toward a low topiary maze. A series of metal hoops had been shoved into the pristine lawn, creating a weird zigzagging course. Flynn grinned as he handed me a flat-ended mallet. “You’re a little like Alice, fallen through the rabbit hole into a strange new world where everyone says bollocks and Irishmen are the rightful rulers. So I thought we could play some croquet, and then Rowan’s made a proper high tea – finger sandwiches and scones with jam and clotted cream and all that guff.”
“But—” It was on the tip of my tongue to say we couldn’t play croquet when the fae had stolen two babies and were pushing their way further and further into our realm, weakening the wormhole between the multiverse. But Flynn tilted his head to the side, and the smile he gave me made my heart somersault.
“Look, we’re still no closer to getting those wee ones, so I figure we need a distraction. Recharge our batteries and all that. I have a present for you, too.” Flynn opened my palm and pressed something into it – a round medallion on a leather cord, its surface covered with knotwork and that stick writing Corbin and Rowan had on their tattoos. “I made it for you this morning. It will help protect you from the fae, and if you pressed it against their skin, you’d probably do a fecking load of damage.”
“Flynn, it’s beautiful.” I ran my fingers over the surface. Flynn clasped it around my neck, and I placed my hand in Flynn’s and let him walk me across the yard, his flirty humor making my skin flush and my body light.
The multiverse could wait.
22
MAEVE
My eyes flickered open, recognizing the tapestries on the wall and the blazing fire. I was in the Great Hall. I must’ve fallen asleep.
It had been an intense day, between meeting Emily, signing the papers declaring me official owner of Briarwood, sword fighting and crying with Arthur, skipping around the garden while Flynn chased me with a croquet mallet, devouring a stack of Rowan’s scones, and then holing up in the library with Corbin to start poring through the ancient books about the fae. We worked for hours, mostly in companionable silence, and although I started making notes for my ethnographic project, we hadn’t managed to find much that would be useful in our current predicament.
I must’ve fallen asleep in front of the TV or something. But why do we have the fire going? It’s the middle of summer.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes. All the overstuffed couches and mismatched coffee tables and gaming consoles were gone. Someone had even got rid of the bar. The room was bare, apart from the velvet chaise lounge I reclined on. It had been placed in the center of the room, directly under one of the wrought-iron chandeliers.
But… but how did the guys move all this furniture without me waking up? And why would they do that? Are we spring-cleaning the castle or something?
“You have to choose, Maeve.” Corbin walked past the fire, circling my couch. I jolted with shock as I took in his complete nakedness – every inch of Corbin’s muscled, tattooed body was on proud display. His broad chest tapered into a narrow waist and tight, toned thighs, the muscles pulling and rippling as he moved. Between his legs, an enormous cock stood proud and erect, the head purple with desire.
“Um…” My words dried on my lips. An ache of wanting surged in my stomach, flaring between my legs. Damn. Imagine that body pressed up against mine, my fingers running over those tight abs, stroking that enormous—
My eyes barely recovered from the beauty of Corbin when Arthur fell in step behind him, also completely naked. If Corbin had the body of a Greek hero, than Arthur’s was the body of a Viking warrior – his muscles were even larger, bulging from his body like hard rocks. Tattoos of knots and serpent dragons encircled his arms and upper torso, and along the inside of his thighs and arms were thin, white scars. He’d freshly oiled his beard and braided it into two long strands that curled out from his body, with bright-colored beads carved with those stick-like symbols tying the ends.
His beard wasn’t the only thing that curved. His huge, hard cock – even bigger than Corbin’s, if that was even possible – had a slight upward curve to it. Would that rub in all the right places when it was inside me? I ached to find out.
“Gggg…” My sex pulsed with need, suddenly aware of how hollow I felt, how desperate I was to be full, but fill with who?
Flynn came next, skipping like the fool he was, his whole face lit up with that dazzling devil’s grin. He was leaner, more wiry than the others, but still toned. Freckles scattered across his chest and down his arms. Unlike the others, he only had one tattoo – a woman’s face on his chest, right above his heart.
My eyes darted to his cock, which wasn’t as long as Corbin’s or Arthur’s, but was thick and inviting with reddish veins around the already engorged head. I licked my lips, wanting to run my tongue along the length of him, taste his Irish meat.
Flynn’s sparkling eyes met mine. “You have to choose, Maeve.”
I cast my eyes around for Rowan. He emerged from the shadows at the corner of the room, and followed the others to move around my couch. His dark skin glowed in the crackling firelight, sleek like a panther stalking its prey. The dreadlocks around his face were pinned back with a silver brooch covered in knotwork. The rest streamed down his back, the beads on the bottoms clattering together. His cock swung between his legs, surprisingly bigger and longer than all of the others. Rowan stared at the ground, his lips moving as he counted something on the rug. When he finished, he looked up, and the hunger and wistfulness in his eyes nearly broke me completely.
The guys circled the couch, inching closer to me with each round. My eyes didn’t know where to look, drinking in the sight of all those bulging muscles and gleaming cocks, all erect and waiting for me.
Corbin touched me first, sliding my robe off my shoulders, his fingers like fire against my skin. When did I change into a robe?
I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the couch as the robe pooled around my body. I was naked underneath. Corbin’s eyes widened as he took in my body. His hand skimmed over my collarbone, my breast, the edge of my stomach. His fingers fluttered over my thigh, and the ache burned hot inside me. I pressed my legs together and dug my toes into the thick rug.
“May we touch you?” he asked, his voice husky with need.
I moved my legs apart, giving them a full view. “Don’t be shy.”
Arthur didn’t wait another moment. He lunged at me, his eyes wild with hunger. He pressed his mouth to mine.
The kiss burned right through my body, reaching inside me and twisting my insides around. Arthur’s huge hands cupped my breasts, grazing my nipples with the coarse surface of his fingers. I gasped against his lips as his rough touch sent shivers right to my core.
Arthur bent me back against the couch. He dived between my legs, nibbling my thighs, teasing me to the very edge. While he danced around the one spot that throbbed with need, Corbin climbed up beside me, his lips devouring mine. Behind his head, Flynn shuddered as his eyes wandered over my body, and his hands reached out to stroke my skin.
Hands slipped over my breasts, cupping each one. A freckled hand, a black hand. Corwin’s tongue danced in my mouth, while another pair of lips – Rowan’s, I think – kissed a trail down my neck. The circle closed around me, my guys worshipping my body, touching my heart, tearing open my chest and spilling all my pain and sorrow upon the velvet couch.
My guys lay me right back, folding their bodies around me. Hands and lips and tongues flew everywhere. Arthur’s long hair tickled my skin as he kissed along my inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the ache that demanded attention. I gripped hard muscle, holding them tight. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.
Hands gripped my thighs, pulling my legs apart. The ache throbbed inside me. Please, please, I want all of you. I want everything you have to give me.
And then I was sinking, sinking, and the lips against mine grew hotter and hotter, and the world swirled. I pulled back, and got a good look at the guy I was kissing.
it wasn’t Corwin – it was Blake.
I gasped, but whether it was surprise or pleasure I could no longer tell. A sound pierced my ears – a shrill, rhythmic ringing that drew me back from the moment. The edges of Blake’s face wobbled, and his voice sounded far away.
“What’s happening?” I choked out, but my words sounded weird, like I was speaking underwater. The shrill ring in my ears intensified, drowning out the pleasure pulsing through my veins. The room, the boys, the lips and tongues and fingers all faded away as an inky blackness devoured my eyes.
Blake’s grin followed me as I slipped away into oblivion. “Welcome to your wildest dreams, Princess.”
23
MAEVE
I woke with a jolt. My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I saw that I was no longer in the Great Hall, but back in my own bedroom. My hands gripped the sheets, bunching them into knots around me. My whole body was covered in sticky sweat and the ache between my legs still throbbed, my pussy desperate to be filled.
What the hell was that?
Okay, so I was officially a nymphomaniac. Being around these guys all day, every day, was making me mad with lust. And kissing Arthur again seems to have made it worse.
I knew, logically, that dreams were just my brain throwing up random images and sensations during the REM sleep stage, perhaps as a way of processing information that I encountered throughout the day. It stood to reason that my dreams might be particularly vivid or disturbing after I’d witnessed my parents dying like that.
But why was my mind going back to that same fantasy – that orgy in the middle of the Great Hall? And why was that Unseelie, Blake, always there, always right in the center of things?
The shril
l noise pounded in my ears. I glanced around, my heart pounding. If it was a dream, how did the sound follow me into—
My phone. The screen lit up, and it vibrated across my nightstand, the ringing piercing the din. I grabbed for it, noting my sister’s picture on the screen and the time in the corner; 2:28AM.
“Kelly?” I cried, jamming the phone to my ear. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
The fae were in Arizona the night my parents died. Corbin said that pouka Kalen was after him, but what if they went after Kelly next? What if—
Kelly laughed, although her laugh sounded a little wooden. “I’m fine, Einstein. Boy, do you sound weird. Did I wake you up from a nap or something?”
“It’s after two in the morning! Of course you woke me up.”
“It is? Oh crap, sorry! I thought I had this time zone thing right. It’s supposed to be the middle of the afternoon.”
I groaned. Typical Kelly. I’d explained the time zones to her a hundred times before I left, and even downloaded a conversion app onto her phone. But that was my sister for you. We’d been texting back and forth ever since I’d arrived, but I hadn’t had a chance to talk for more than a couple of minutes. Now, the sound of her voice sent a wave of longing through me. I missed Arizona. I missed fry bread and cheese crisps and the horizon following me everywhere and there not being any fae. I missed being a normal twenty-something science nerd with normal crazy Evangelical parents and normal science-nerd problems. And most of all, I missed Kelly.
“Yeah, well…” I rubbed my eyes and turned on my bedside lamp, illuminating only one small corner of my enormous room. “I’m awake now. So go on, tell me what’s up.”
“I just wanted to talk to you.” Kelly’s voice cracked a little. “I’m living with Aunt Florence and Uncle Bob now. They made up a fold out couch in the den. Every night I go to sleep staring at the corner of the pool table. They’ve been great, but…”
The Castle of Earth and Embers (Briarwood Reverse Harem Book 1) Page 16