lily harper - complete series, page 89
He was finally unable to ignore my breasts and I could feel his erection straining against his kilt beneath me. In response, the floodgates from my own body seemed to burst open. I began growing ever wetter as the need to draw him inside me filled my entire being.
“Dinnae do this, Lily,” he whispered while clenching his eyes shut tightly. “Fight whatever power Alaire has over ye,” he said as he opened his eyes and stared at mine. “Ye are strong, lass, Ah know ye can dae this.” The tone of his voice was bordering on panic. “This is all artifice, Lily, noone oove it ’tis real!”
I stopped listening to him because I was too thrilled by his erection beneath me. I reached down between my legs and rubbed his hard length through his kilt. He immediately tossed his head back and closed his eyes. “Even immortals can’t deny the needs of the flesh,” I whispered, suddenly valiant and victorious.
He opened his eyes and stared at me so hard, it felt like he was looking right through me. “Alaire did this tae ye,” he said as he shook his head. He clasped my upper thigh with his mitt of a hand. It was the only motion he could make voluntarily since he was still chained to the wall. “Ye cannae allow him tae possess ye sooch that he wants tae.”
“I don’t know any Alaire, or whatever person you keep referencing,” I argued, tired of his conversation. “And what’s more, I don’t care. All I do care about is this,” I finished. I squeezed his erection and his breath caught.
“Lily,” he begged.
I shook my head. “You need to stop fighting your demons,” I announced while slipping my hand from over his kilt to grasp his engorged penis. I slid my hand beneath the fabric, and as soon as I touched it, he closed his eyes and moaned. I rubbed his straining erection gently up and down, reveling in my own carnal skills.
“Lily!” he yelled as he suddenly opened his eyes and stared right at me. “Dinnae dae this!”
“I’m not Lily!” I replied, a wave of anger suddenly overcoming me.
He was quiet for a few seconds as he stared at me from deep blue eyes. Then he nodded with a heartfelt sigh. “Ye are right, ye arenae Lily.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I released his erection and tugged at my skirt, sliding it up to my hips. I found it interesting when he didn’t bother looking at the mound of hungry flesh between my thighs. Instead, he kept his attention exclusively on my eyes. Meanwhile, I reached down and gripped his erection, holding it tightly as I positioned myself above him. I teased my opening with the head of his penis, moving it up to my clit before flicking it against the sensitive nub.
“Ye are mah queen,” Tallis Black suddenly announced as his eyes narrowed on mine.
I eyed him with surprise and a slight smile. “Yes, I am.”
“There is boot one problem,” he interjected as his breathing began to pick up once I pushed him slightly inside me.
“Problem? And what would that be?” I demanded while rocking my hips back and forth and side to side against him, enjoying the control I held over him.
“Ye willnae outlive meh,” he announced flatly. “Though ye might be mah queen, ye arenae immortal.”
“So what?” I asked with a shrug. I pushed the tip of his penis inside me as he gritted his teeth and plastered his attention on my face. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”
He shook his head before gasping while I pushed myself down on top of him, going so far as to thrust half of him inside me. His penis was so immense, I had a hard time accommodating all of it.
“Nae so,” he admitted in a mere whisper. “Ah can give ye the gift oove immortality.”
I paused in my ministrations to face him squarely, narrowing my eyes at him while my body begged my brain to give it a rest so I could take him inside of me—all of him. “And why would you want to do that? Just a few seconds ago, you practically detested me.”
He cocked his head to the side and began rolling his hips underneath me, suddenly eager to join my rhythm, or so it seemed. “Ye were correct all along,” he admitted with a newfound passion burning in his eyes. “Ah wanted ye. An’ now that Ah have ye, Ah want oos tae remain good friends,” he finished.
I smiled at him, reveling at my own conquest. “And what if I wish for us to be more than good friends?”
“Ah should be so loocky,” he responded before thrusting his hips up high and burying himself fully inside me. I threw my head back and gasped, not prepared for the sensation of having him totally ensconced within me. Taking him all the way all at once was almost painful. I gripped both of his shoulders as he started bucking beneath me, pulling himself out, only to thrust back inside again. I thrilled at hearing my wetness and the slapping of our skin as he mated with me. Not ready to release control, I held his hips down and began grinding on him, loving the stimulation of my clit when I rubbed it against his stomach.
“So if I … decided to accept your gift of immortality, what would that … entail?” I asked between deep breaths. Seconds later, a moan escaped me as I eagerly rubbed myself against him.
“Ye moost take mah bluid,” he answered, his words coming out winded and heavy.
“What does that mean?”
“The blade betwixt yer bosom,” he replied. My surprise must have been obvious because I hadn’t realized he knew I had it. “Remove it.” I obeyed his request and anxiously waited for his next instruction. “Coot meh an’ then drink frae meh.”
“And drinking your blood will make me immortal?” I asked, eyeing him closely all the while in order to decide whether or not he was being truthful.
“Nae in one sittin’,” he replied while rocking his hips beneath me, as he tried to control the rhythm of our bodies. “Boot if ye take enough over time, aye, ye will.”
I nodded and reached down to run the blade across his right pectoral, cutting him. The crimson hue of his blood appeared immediately, and I wasted no time before leaning down and sucking it from him. The salty taste filled my mouth, and I instantly felt a jolt like lightning shock my entire body. I closed my eyes and images I didn’t recognize, or understand, suddenly flashed behind my eyelids.
I could see myself, only I wasn’t me. With red hair and green eyes, I was practicing swordplay in what looked like a forest. Tallis Black was right behind me, instructing me, coaching me on how to wield a strange sword that I didn’t recognize.
The image faded and another one took its place. I saw a craggy hillside covered in green grass. The ocean occupied the foreground and the sky was full of dark grey storm clouds. The clouds shadowed the ancient stone façade of a castle that sat upon an island.
This image lasted barely a second or two before it was ripped from me just as quickly as the other one had been. In its place appeared another dream, or vision, that made no sense. This time, Tallis Black was holding me and we were naked, lying in a meadow, surrounded by wildflowers. He tickled my stomach and I laughed in response, pushing him away playfully. Moments later, the laughter died and he was suddenly on top of me, kissing me in such a way that I knew how much love he harbored for me. My breasts were crushed up against his chest, and seconds later, he began thrusting inside me.
I opened my eyes at the exact moment when he penetrated me from below. I glanced around and found that I was back in the darkness, returned to the dungeon where the smell of cold, dank, emptiness reigned supreme. I felt lost, shell-shocked and confused. Tallis Black was lying beneath me, lodged inside of me and using my body to satisfy his own.
“Drink!” he ground out as he heaved against me once more. I leaned down, lapping at his fresh blood. Seconds later, he dropped his hips, looking spent and exhausted. His penis slipped out of me as he fought to catch his breath. I rolled over until I was sitting beside him.
I couldn’t ignore the visions that still haunted me. Even though they didn’t make any sense, they felt very real. As if I’d previously experienced them, and lived them. They were way too familiar to me.
“I don’t understand,” I started as I shook my head and suddenly felt like crying.
“Well, well, well,” I heard a man’s voice and glanced up at the cell door. A tall, elegant man was facing us both. Even though he wore a smile, his eyes were furious as they observed us.
Tallis Black immediately covered his spent erection and scooted back against the wall until he was sitting upright. I pulled the straps of my dress up both of my arms and stood up to address the visitor with a frown.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“I, dear lady, am the Master of the Underground City. I believe I was also your date for this evening,” he answered as he glared at Tallis Black. His voice held a Scandinavian accent, which made sense when I noticed his blond hair and fair skin. He turned to Saxon, who appeared behind him and opened his palm. Saxon dropped the key to the cell door in it. I noticed Saxon refused to look at me.
The man opened the door and showed himself inside, his attention still riveted on me. He studied me from head to toe and his eyes burned with a passion I hadn’t seen before. “Quite remarkable,” he said as he gazed at me. “She is herself; and yet, she is not.”
“She is naethin’ like ’erself,” Tallis Black countered from behind me. “Ye have polluted ’er, ye bludy bastard!” he seethed while straining to no avail against his chains.
“Yes, so I have,” the elegant man agreed with a brief nod. “My dear,” he said while offering his hand. I wasn’t sure why, but I accepted it and allowed him to walk me to the cell door. All the while, however, I couldn’t forget the odd visions that still plagued me. They kept returning to my mind anew.
“Please return to your bedchamber, my queen, and refresh yourself. You will find a new gown awaiting you,” the dapper gentleman announced. Then his attention settled on Saxon. “Escort our lovely lady, yourself, Saxon, and do not allow her to leave your watch again.” His voice was icy and stern.
Saxon nodded quickly and offered me his arm, which I didn’t accept. Instead, I turned around and faced Tallis Black, still feeling inextricably drawn to him. His eyes were already on me. The Master of the Underground City closed the distance between Tallis Black and himself, to stand scarcely an inch or so from the chained man.
“Ah, the bladesmith! It seems I can never quite rid myself of you,” he started. Tallis Black said nothing in reply, but continued glaring at the refined gentleman standing before him. The Master of the Underground City clasped his hands together and smiled. “I have a very generous offer to make you,” he started.
“Ah want naethin’ tae do with ye,” Tallis Black responded before spitting on the master’s shoes.
“I doubt that very much,” the gentleman quipped. Glancing down at his sullied shoe, he didn’t bother wiping the spittle off. “As you must realize, Lily is forever lost to you,” he started. Tallis Black immediately dropped his attention to the ground. Despite giving the impression of sad melancholy, his hands were clenched into fists.
“Therefore,” the master continued, “I, as the understanding and generous leader that I am, would be willing to negotiate with you.”
“Ah said it before an’ Ah will say it again,” Tallis Black fired back, looking up at the stately gentleman with midnight blue eyes blazing. “Ah want naethin’ tae dae with ye, nor yer treachery!”
“You should refrain from stating your opinion until you have allowed me to explain,” the master continued. He was not in the least bit offended by the hatred that shone in Tallis Black’s eyes. “I am here to grant you the absolution you have sought all these years,” he said quickly. Tallis Black glanced up at him with sudden genuine interest, although he didn’t comment. “That’s correct, Bladesmith,” the master continued, a smug smile spreading across his handsome face. “This is your chance to free yourself from Donnchadh eternally.” He paused for a few seconds as if he wanted to allow the words to settle. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, deeper. “I am offering you the very gift you have always sought … death.”
The End
THE BLADESMITH
Lily Harper #5
by
H.P. Mallory
The Bladesmith
ONE
I did not know how long it was that I had been a prisoner.
The darkness was tireless, constant and discomforting. Although my eyes had already adapted to the near blackness, I saw very little of my actual prison. From what little light was secreted by a torch or two within the main vestibule, I deduced that my space was not very large. As to the rest of me, my hands were weighted down by chains and bound behind me. Whenever I shifted my body, my fingers scraped against the brick and mortared walls, stinging my raw skin.
The heavy air was sticky, and a foul odor contaminated it. I could not tell whether the incessant putrescence was actually the air, or whether I was inhaling the scent of my own sweat and dirt. I supposed it did not really matter, either way.
During my confinement, I heard very little, save the creaking of the door signaling the comings and goings of those who brought me food and water … But that was not the sound that made my stomach turn. No, that honor was reserved for the muted echoes of leather slicing flesh and the subsequent yelps of pain coming from the cell next to mine. The cries were coming from my mostly unpleasant companion, the angel, Bill.
Our imprisonment, it seemed, was vastly different. Mine was more a mental torture rather than physical; the guilt of knowing how terribly I had failed Lily. The chains that bound me mattered not as I was well acquainted with torture. Aye, torture and I were old bedfellows and had been for longer than I could remember. But as for the immortal angel who could not be killed? His crass mouth had managed to finally catch up with him. It seemed our keepers refused to tolerate his loose and oftentimes inflammatory speech. Their patience, I assumed, paled when compared to mine.
All that Bill and I could look forward to now was eternal darkness. To the untrained eye, it might have appeared as if I had given up and resigned my body to an eternity of nothingness inside my cell. But I was not defeated. No! On the contrary, I made the decision to win by managing to survive. I disallowed my captors to take amusement in my imprisonment because I simply stopped responding.
“Conan!” the insipid angel rasped from his cell. I did not bother to answer. “Bladesmith!” he cried out again in a voice parched for water. “If you’re still alive, answer me!”
“Aye, Ah’m still alive,” I responded, contemplating whether the alternative might be better. “O’ course Ah’m still alive,” I muttered. At that moment, there was nothing more despicable to me than my own immortality.
“When ya gonna get us the hellz outta here?” my jail mate prattled on. His abrasive tone caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. “I’m not meant for this drafty dungeon shit. I’m so hungry, I think my stomach started eatin’ itself; an’ my throat’s so dry, it feels like swallowing glass every time I try to talk.”
“Mayhap ye should listen tae yer body then, an’ shut yer geggie,” I interrupted. I was in no mood to indulge his carrying on. The ugliness of my own twisted thoughts were plenty enough to keep me company. I certainly did not need his.
“I think I’ve got the flu,” he persisted as if he had not heard me. It was probably more fitting to say he just did not care. He was quiet for a moment or two before starting up again. “Du-u-u-ude! Ya gotta do something! Ya gotta get us outta here, man! I can’t take no more o’ this gloomy shit! An’ my whole body’s hurtin’! I’m like, I’m like losin’ my mind, Conan! Ya gotta help a brother out!”
“An’ jist whit dae ye propose Ah dae?” I ground out, feeling as helpless as a newborn foal. Frustration had become my only companion, at least since my arrival here.
“Fuck, I dunno! You’re the one with the crazy Druid magic shit, not me! If I knew how to bust my fat ass outta here, d’ya think we’d be havin’ this conversation right now?”
“Ah ’spose not,” I answered, taking a deep breath. Much to my chagrin, the ever-present chill seemed to have taken up permanent residency in the stones that comprised my cell walls. There was no escaping its nasty bite.
“You better not be givin’ up,” the angel continued, although I did my best to ignore the incessant bleating of his voice. “I heard Alaire offerin’ to separate you from that ghost dude inside you, that guy, Donald, or whatever the hellz his name is.”
“Donnchadh!” I growled back in anger, the energy of the ancient warrior spirit suddenly rising up within me. Too much time had passed since I last bled myself, and Donnchadh’s contaminants were multiplying, threatening to overtake me. If I lost control of my body now, there would be no coming back.
There isnae comin’ back as it is, I reminded myself. The memory of Alaire’s offer began to haunt me anew. Freedom through death—the ultimate chance to permanently eject Donnchadh from my body and end the miserable existence I had had to endure for two thousand years.
But bargains with Alaire could never be taken at face value. An image of the self-impressed dandy filled my mind’s eye, and I gritted my teeth in response. My hands clenched and unclenched behind me as a growing ire consumed my entire being. I pulled against the iron manacles that bound me to the wall, suddenly afraid I would lose my mind if I could not escape my prison.
“So, are you gonna like, just let Alaire kill you, or what, dude?” the angel continued, his voice sounding scratchy and pained. “’Cause that’d be super selfish if you did, namsay?”
“Whit?” I ground out, bored and irritated by the endless litany of riddles he spewed. I oft wondered whether the angel’s vocabulary was borrowed, or pillaged, from some other foreign language.
“Know. What. I’m. Saying,” he finished pedantically.
“Nae,” I answered with a sigh. Releasing my fists, I stretched my fingers out again, wincing at the pain in my wrists where I had pulled against the chains. “’Tis the problem with ye. Nae one knows whit yer goin’ oan aboot.”
