CHAPTER 9

I stared up at the ceiling, bedsheets sticky around my naked limbs. No matter my desperation for it, I had no hopes of getting back to sleep. The sour taste of the nightmare I’d dredged myself out of still haunted me. A dream of black stone pillars, winged humans and a demon god trapped behind glass.

The worst part of it was seeing Jesibel. The context was strange. But it felt so real. As though Jesibel made me recite everything I had learned whilst weighing up if my failing her was worth it.

Now, as I tried to steady my breathing, I focused on the carved details of the wooden ceiling and couldn’t answer the question.

Deep in the belly of the Cedarfall ship, the air was thick with moisture. The cabin must have been buried beneath the surface of the ocean. Damp seeped through the oiled plank walls and filled the dank air entirely. The overwhelming scent of salt soon became an afterthought when my mind and stomach cursed the constant swaying of the boat. It was no surprise that I fought to keep down the measly plate of hard bread, cured meat and cheese that waited for us when we returned from Rafaela and her fellow Nephilim those hours before.

As they promised, small vessels overloaded with supplies had been brought to us. More proof that we could trust them. And yet, there was something about their interest in Duncan that made me want to keep a distance.

Duncan’s rhythmic breathing was the anchor I required. It prevented me from losing myself in the maddening sway of the ship and the dream, which worked in tandem to curse me. I latched onto the deep, rasping inhales and the slight whistle he made at the peak of his exhale. His closeness didn’t help the heavy, sweltering warmth that encompassed me. But I didn’t desire there to be any distance between us at all. In fact, whilst one of my arms was resting behind my head, the other was pressed next to Duncan’s with our fingers intertwined.

My hand ached from being linked with his for so long, but regardless of the discomfort, I kept it where it was.

It was better he slept. He needed it. Even if he’d put on a brave face and joined in with our conversation about what was discussed with the Nephilim, he still suffered. Duncan had fallen asleep only moments after his head hit the pillow. One minute we had been weaving out of conversation and kissing, the next, he was quiet. His dark lashes fluttered as he entered his dreamscape. I hoped his dreams were not as haunting as mine had been.

There was another part of the vision Gabrial had shown me, which I had kept from repeating. Although it had not infiltrated my nightmare, as if the information was not important to the phantom of Jesibel, now it was all I could think about.

Erix.

I would have lied to myself if I had pretended not to have thought of him often. The plans of freeing the captured fey had been more demanding of thought, but he always lingered. Now, surrounded by the ships that held those we had saved, my mind seemed to have found the capacity for Erix. Encouraged by the two tormenting words that would always remind me of him.

Little bird.

What happened to you? I screamed into the darkness. My fingers tightened around Duncan’s as the feeling of panicked desperation for the answer overwhelmed me.

When Queen Elinor Oakstorm killed her husband, Doran, I wondered if it had somehow killed Erix as well. The gryvern had been an extension of Doran’s will. His twisted offspring. And they hadn’t been seen since they attacked the castle that fateful night, so I could only think they perished. What I hoped for was something completely different. Seraphine shared reports from the Lockinge civilians, which told of the gryvern fleeing, but that had been it.

A strong, loud part of me hoped Erix grasped enough control over his own will and body to get as far from Lockinge as possible. Or that he found peace, in whatever form that would have been.

Just as I often did and had grown extremely efficient at, I shelved the dark thoughts and moved on to others. The list of my torments was long and ever-growing, but they could wait until we saved the world from Aldrick.

I’d chosen not to tell Duncan that Rafaela inquired about him, as had Seraphine and Althea. Rafaela and her fellow Nephilim could look anywhere else, but Duncan was mine. I recognised the feeling for what it was – territorial. However, this was not a feeling I buried easily. After what I had lost, no one would take him from me.

I hated we were not already sailing for Wychwood, even though it had been my command that was given to ensure that. There was something about the Nephilim keeping me here – a conversation still left untouched.

Duncan shifted beside me, his breathing breaking its pattern. I turned my head to look at him, to find his narrowed, tired stare on me.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked, voice groggy.

I let out a sigh, suddenly relieved. Hearing his deep, rumbling voice edged with exhaustion was the relief I required from my mind. As always, it had the power to expel the tension that built up in my chest. “Unfortunately for me, it seems my head is refusing the idea of sleep. Sorry if I woke you.”

“I’m only sorry you didn’t wake me sooner. Come here,” Duncan groaned as he encouraged me closer to him. “Would you feel better talking about it?”

He had let go of my hand to allow me to get as near as possible. My fingers were stiff; my wrist ached from being stuck in one position. All those discomforts melted away as my cheek pressed into the hard curve of his chest. Duncan had shaved the hairs from his torso with a wet blade only days ago. Already the hairs had grown enough to prickle me. Not that I cared. In fact, I was slightly disappointed when he had shaved at all. Although I didn’t admit that to him. There was something about seeing his muscles sculpted by the shade of dark hair that set something ablaze in me.

“Oh, you know,” I whispered, laying my hand on his stomach. He was warm to the touch, our bodies equally sticky. If he didn’t look so exhausted, I would’ve suggested a stroll to the main deck for the welcoming kiss of fresh air. “Same old concerns about demonic gods and their mind-controlling puppets searching for the keys to bring forth a world of damnation and death. Nothing too consuming.”

It was easier to blame all my anxiety on Aldrick instead of bringing up Erix, Jesibel, and the empty Icethorn Court that waited for me. Not to mention the Nephilim. There were so many other concerns that if I didn’t slot them each into their own place in my mind and give them attention, one at a time, I feared I would implode.

Duncan pressed his lips into my hair and kissed the top of my head. He pulled back enough to speak but still kept close enough that his breath tickled my scalp. “One day, we will be sleepless for other reasons without a care or concern in the world.”

I closed my eyes, trying to conjure up such a time. It felt impossible. “Say it again, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

“I believe it,” Duncan replied as he lay back on the pillow. His eyes had closed again, but his fingers slowly trailed shapes upon my upper arm as he held me to him.

“How do you feel?” I was scared to ask for what he might reply, but I did so anyway.

“Don’t you have enough to worry yourself with other than my well-being?”

I laughed, catching the hint of his sarcasm from the sly grin he forced upon his face. His dark hair had been swept from his forehead to reveal it glistening in the dull glow of the swaying lantern on his side of the room. Some colour had returned to his face, but he still looked fatigued.

“You are all I think of,” I admitted. “Which is more a pleasure than a pain. Anyway, I need you to get better because you owe me something.”

“I do?” Duncan’s smile widened as he surveyed me out of one open eye.

“Yes, something that requires you at full energy… at least that is what I recall you saying. I mean, lots has happened since then. After a few minor hiccups along the way, my plan of emptying the Below has worked. That, and now there is currently a sea full of ships with winged humans who name themselves after the Creator’s favoured inanimate objects… and not to forget the mystery of keys and missing fey. In fact, perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me, and you promised nothing at all.”

Duncan’s fingers no longer traced my skin but gripped it. His thumb pressed down into my arm with a pleasuring force. “No, no. I still seem to remember a promise.”

“Enlighten me,” I replied.

I longed for Duncan. His touch, his taste. There was a need to feel him, which I also caught in the glow of his eyes. Mischief and hunger coiled in his dark gaze made clear by the parting of his lips and the flash of his tongue caught between teeth.

“Are you using me, Robin Icethorn? Because if you only require me in your life to tire you out, I’m certainly up for the challenge,” Duncan said, spare hand reaching down for the bedding that covered his modesty. At first, what I believed was a mound of material revealed itself to be a peak caused by the swell of his hard cock.

“You can hardly keep your eyes open,” I said, trying to be coy but failing. “I hardly think you have it in you to ruin me.”

“Ruin you?” His eyes narrowed.

“Was that not the promise you made, to ruin me? I could have sworn it was.”

Words seemed to fail Duncan as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Giving up on finding the right thing to reply, he surprised me with strength as he rolled me on top of him.

A giggle escaped me as he forced me atop his waist, straddling his proud body with legs bent on either side of his hips. I felt him thrive beneath me, hips rocking in tandem with the ship’s natural movement. The press of his cock upon the thin material of my undershorts turned my want for Duncan into a feverish need.

Part of me felt wrong about doing this here. With everything that had happened since my head last touched a pillow, this moment of distraction felt undeserved. As though this prize hadn’t yet been earned.

But I couldn’t wait for our return to Wychwood to take Duncan. Not when he was beneath me now, hands gripping my thighs and encouraging me to roll my hips upon his cock. His eyes had shed the tired gleam. He hardly blinked as he looked up at me. Waves of dark hair spread across the pillow, fanning out around his head like a halo of shadow.

“I missed this,” Duncan whispered. “I missed you .”

“How could you miss me when I haven’t left your side?”

Duncan stared me dead in the eyes as though searching for my soul to judge it. “You might have been beside me, but your mind has been elsewhere. Every time I have looked at you, I have seen heavy clouds flooding your mind. I don’t blame you, of course, not with everything you have done.” Duncan lifted a hand from my thigh and brought it to my face. I kept still as his fingers glided across my cheekbone, inches from my left eye. “But now they’re clearer than before. Not blue skies, not yet. But the clouds are thinning within you. I’m glad for your sake.”

I couldn’t face holding his attention, so I dropped my stare to the outline of his chest, where both my hands were placed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Duncan quickly asked, dropping his hand to my chin and lifting my face back up so I could not hide from him. “Focusing your attention on saving hundreds of innocent people? Never apologise for doing what is right. Not to me.”

“I’m finding it hard to even imagine a time when things will be normal,” I muttered. “It’s like I’m punishing myself, constantly thinking about what comes next, and if I’m honest, I haven’t thought this far ahead. Returning to Wychwood is the next step, but why does it feel like such an impossible leap to make?”

I felt as though I stood on the precipice, staring down at the sharp drop into nothingness. This far, everything we had achieved was because I took a leap into the unknown. But this one. This last jump to return to my court, empty and void of family and life, felt like the hardest part.

“Whatever is to come in the days that follow, know you are not alone. I’m here. You have friends and allies.” Duncan buzzed with determination. I respected just how much effort he put into making sure it reached his eyes. For a moment, I believed his confidence in me. “Outside the doors to this room are hundreds of fey indebted to you. And I hardly get the impression Althea is going to leave your side again. I understand what Wychwood and the Icethorn Court represent for you.”

“A lonely place. And I don’t want those fey to fight for me just because they think they owe me. I am owed nothing.”

“Respect is not a transaction, Robin.” Duncan traced soft fingers over my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “And I refuse that statement that Icethorn is a lonely place. When we return, we do so as a family. Albeit a found family of misfits. A king to rule over reformed Hunters, mutated lovers, a nest of assassins and a host of fey who never believed they would find a home again.”

I leaned over Duncan, lowering my face as close as I could to his without our lips touching. “How is it you have such words of wisdom in times when I need them most?”

“Perhaps our brief stay with Abbot Nathanial had a profound effect on me,” he replied.

“He would be proud of you.” I blinked, drinking in every detail of his face. From his dark lashes that framed his forest-green eyes, to the scar that linked from the corner of his left eye to his lip that deepened when he smiled. The way the stubble of his beard sharpened his cheekbones and jawline as though a painter shadowed the right parts of his face to make him exude masculine beauty.

“Nathanial would be proud of us ,” Duncan said, reaching his hands over my shoulders and lacing his fingers behind my head. He wedged me in place, ensuring I could not move away from him. “And more importantly, I love you.”

I practically sagged beneath the words, unable to keep my bones and muscles strong enough to hold me up. Duncan had a way of melting me into a puddle with his words and touch.

“I love you, too,” I replied. “Which is why I would do anything to protect you. Anything.”

Before he could question the hidden meaning beneath my promise, with fierce lust, I crashed my lips into his. The kiss was sudden and full of passion. Duncan kept his hands behind my head, keeping me to him. Although, there was no way I would break away from him. Not now, not ever.

Our tongues encouraged one another into the dance. I tasted mint with the undercurrent of strong spirits. Whisky, perhaps. Its sharp bite glossed across my lip as his tongue trailed it.

Duncan brought his hips up beneath me. The press of his cock fuelled me. My fingers ran up the back of his head, coiling among his thick, chestnut-brown hair until I was locked in place. He hissed as I tugged, stretching the hair at the scalp to where pain and pleasure mixed as one.

He liked it. As did I. With Duncan, I had discovered ways of pleasure that he could provide me. Things I never knew were possible. There was a pride in uncovering a partner’s desires, and this was one that shifted the control of sex into my hands as Duncan willingly gave himself to me.

I pulled at his hair harder, tearing his mouth from mine, leaving my lips tingling from his pressure. My jaw itched because his beard rubbed close against my smooth skin. Duncan cocked his head back, stretching his neck out as he expelled a groan that shuddered the very seas.

He knew what was coming.

I dove into his neck, tongue wetting his skin first to ready the place as I sucked and nibbled. I trailed the entire stretch of his neck until it was pink and moist.

Duncan’s hands fell from the back of my head. His thick fingers trailed down my spine and found their place on either side of my ass. He pinched the fleshy skin as he gripped each cheek with desperation. I returned his rough touch with a sharp nip at the soft skin beneath his ear.

“You,” Duncan said, voice deeper than it had been before. “Don’t you dare move from this position. Am I clear?”

“Loud and clear,” I replied, whispering into his ear. The brush of my lip against it conjured a shiver across Duncan’s chest and arms.

“I’m going to fuck you where you sit.”

Ensuring he knew that was what I wanted, I pressed myself down into his member. It twitched beneath me.

“Look at you, Duncan Rackley. It would seem the promise of my tight ass has brought you back to life.”

“Such a naughty tongue. Perhaps I should put it to good use. You want me to fuck you, don’t you, my King?”

I nodded. “I’m that readable, am I?”

“Indeed, you are.”

Duncan’s nails pinched into the skin of my thigh. I gasped before he yanked the remaining sheet off me, allowing the cold salt breeze to brush against the exposed heart of my ass. The pleasurable feeling only intensified as a large finger slipped across it.

“Remember, I’m still not feeling completely well,” Duncan purred, eyes wide and burning with unbridled desire. His nail traced circles around the heart of my ass. The touch reduced me to a puddle of breathy moans. “I’m going to need you to do the work. Are you up to that?”

Just the thought alone had my knees trembling. It was a shame his cock would not greet the insides of my mouth because it salivated profusely. Such a waste of spit.

“I’ll do my best.”

“That is all I can ask,” Duncan replied, lifting his fingers to his mouth. As he brought them away, a link of spit pulled between his hand and lips before snapping. My stomach hardened as his wet fingers wiped across my ass. I leaned forward, always breathless at his touch.

Duncan did it three more times until he offered his glistening fingers to my mouth.

“Spit,” he demanded.

I did as he asked, glad to provide the lubrication that had filled my mouth.

Not such a waste, after all.

“Good boy,” he said, his hand falling from view. This time his hand didn’t touch me but himself instead.

The next moments happened so quickly. There was no warning as his thickness pressed into my ass and filled me. I called out, throwing my head back. Duncan entered me, urging me to sit back down until my cheeks pressed into his hips. I closed my eyes and arched my back instinctively.

“Ah,” he moaned, biting down on his lower lip as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “This is divinity in flesh.”

He sat me like that for a moment, allowing my body to return from euphoria before continuing. Our heavy breathing synched. I was certain I felt the drum of his heart inside me, matching mine with every beat.

“I’m yours to do with as you please,” Duncan said finally, lifting his hands from my ass and resting them behind his head. He wiggled into a comfortable position beneath me, the muscles in his stomach rippling. I counted six mounds, with hints of two others that hid beneath my thighs. It was so easy to lose myself to him. To distract myself with the way he had been crafted. The faint marks of scars, new and old, only added to the patchwork of stories that covered his skin. I loved every single one and wished I had time to kiss them all.

“I like it when you command me,” I said, admitting my deepest inner thoughts. I spent all day playing king, commanding others, pretending to be something I naturally was not good at. But with Duncan, I gave up all that control to him. It’s what I loved about our time together.

“Okay, Robin,” Duncan spoke my name, drawing my attention back to his face. He had done little work so far, but still his forehead glistened with sweat. “Ride me. Do it until I fill you. Pleasure me, and I will do the same for you in return.”

Living to please him, I did just that.

He didn’t reach for my cock, not as I expected. I pouted down at him and, as though he could read my mind, Duncan added. “You won’t need to do anything but fuck my cock, and I promise you, you will race toward the end without touching yourself. Do you trust me?”

“More than you could imagine.”

“Good.” Duncan smiled. “I’m all yours.”

And he was. All of him, body and mind. He was mine.

I bounced upon his length. At first, the movements were small as I grew familiar with his stretching presence inside of me. Then the momentum built. I threw my ass down upon his cock, lifting it higher and higher with each thrust so his entire length could fill me. The wooden bed creaked and screamed. It echoed that of my legs, thighs and knees, which cried out.

But I didn’t stop. Not as Duncan lost himself in the maze of pleasure, hardly able to keep his eyes open as I fucked myself upon his long, thick cock.

Deep inside me, the tip of his member found the point of divinity and slammed into it over and over. Soon enough, the world fell away from me as I could only focus on that feeling and ensuring I didn’t let go of it.

“That’s it,” Duncan encouraged from beneath me. As though he knew I had found what he had suggested. He willed for me to grip a hold of the feeling and never let go. “Keep doing that, just like that. Fuck me. Darling…”

I think I said something in reply, but I was so far into the mysticism of his sex within me that everything seemed muffled except Duncan’s voice. His deep tone guided me through it, only making the force of his cock inside me more intense.

Suddenly, I took a deep breath of freezing air. No longer did I linger within the divine feeling inside, but I became it. I shouted out as the pleasure overwhelmed me, spread its warmth across my stomach and raced down the end of my member until it burst out of its end.

I knew that Duncan also found the same blissful ending. As the ring of my ass tightened around his cock, and I slowed my bouncing, Duncan was calling out with the same groans as me. His were deeper but equally uncontrolled and overwhelmed with gratification.

It took a moment for the chaotic feeling to dissipate. I left the dream-like state and returned to the world, exhausted, happy and fulfilled.

Still, with Duncan inside of me, he brought me down to his mouth and kissed me softly. My damp palms spread across his chest.

“You did not lie,” I said quietly, forehead pressed to his. “If I was not so tired, I would demand you show me that again.”

I had finished without the need to touch myself. The feeling was impossible but possible. Clear from the spread of cloudy liquid that dripped from the tip of my cock onto Duncan’s lower abdomen.

“We have an endless amount of time ahead of us,” Duncan replied. “And I have an equal number of things to show you until you grow bored.”

“Duncan, I will never grow bored of you. Not in this life or the next.”

“I demand that you repeat that to me every morning and night,” he replied through a yawn. “Just so I never forget. If you can’t get some sleep after that, then I have failed my duty to you.”

Duncan pressed a final kiss to my forehead and helped me off him. I rolled next to his side, unable to forget the physical memory of his cock inside of me. Nor did I wish to forget it.

“Promise?” I asked, glad my eyes fluttered closed, and my mind was empty of anything but him.

“I promise.”

This time, when I closed my eyes, swept away by the rush of tiredness, there were no stone pillars or wings to greet me. No Erix or Jesibel. Just quiet and endless nothing. If only I could sink my fingers into the peace, because it wouldn’t last for long.