Best Knight Ever (A Kinda Fairytale Book 4)

by Cassandra Gannon

  It was real.

  “You feel things, don’t you?” Galahad blurted out, unable to stop himself.

  Trystan hesitated, the flash of humor fading. “…Some.” He allowed cautiously. “My grandfather was one of your kind.”

  “I knew you had emotions. Every time you look at me, there’s something in your eyes.”

  Trystan met his gaze. “Yes.” He said again and the word was vast. “For you, I feel many somethings. I do not have words for them all.”

  Jesus, Galahad was so completely in love with the man. “Well, tell me what you do know then. Tell me something that you like about me.”

  Trystan tilted his head. “Something that I like about you?”

  “Can you think of anything? Anything at all?”

  “I like that you want me.” Trystan said softly and his hand hovered just over Galahad’s straining flesh. “That should be obvious, knight. I like that you claimed me, right in front of your own kind. I like the artistic ways your mind works. I like the wonder you see in the world and the questions you ask.”

  Galahad arched upward, needing contact. “Please, Trys.”

  “I like when you shorten my name.” One finger trailed down the full length of him and Galahad saw stars. “I like when you share things with me that you do not tell anyone else. I like that you are a hero. I have always wanted one of those.”

  Galahad frowned slightly, trying to think. “I told you, I’m not this ya’lah guy, right?”

  “Yes, you say many ridiculous things. I like that, too. I find it endearing.” Trystan made a low sound in his throat, rubbing the very tip of Galahad with his thumb, spreading the moisture around. “I like that you never hide your desire for me.”

  “Touch me.” Galahad offered desperately, twisting beneath him. “Now.” Being tied up really was making this even better for him. Intensifying the sensations. “Touch me now, Trys.” He commanded, unable to wait anymore.

  Trystan arched a brow. “I like that you are patient in all things…” His massive hand wrapped around Galahad’s erection without the slightest bit of self-consciousness. “…Except in your need for me.”

  Galahad let out a choked groan as Trystan began stroking him. Over and over. Hard and long. Sooo hard and sooo long. It was incredible. Like his black-and-white existence was suddenly infused with color. His head went back, his sightless eyes staring up at the moon, knowing that nothing else would ever compare to this. To this man and this feeling he had whenever he looked at him. Whenever Trystan touched him, he was cleansed.

  “I like that you fret over being a Good man, when your heart is so pure.” Trystan watched his hand work with an engrossed expression on his face. “I like that you ask what I dream of. I like that you defeated five gryphons, barely even trying.”

  Galahad’s hips moved in his tight grasp. “Oh, Trystan. Oh yes…”

  “I like that you win all arguments with me, even the ones where I’m right. Which is most of them.” Trystan continued, enjoying how responsive Galahad was to his touch. “And I like the lavender hue of your eyes. When I look into them, I think of the sky and the setting sun. I think of home.” He gave a small, perfect smile and it was world-changing.

  Right then, at that very moment, Galahad realized the truth: He wasn’t a Good man, at all. He never would be. Not entirely.

  Because, he knew Trystan was his True Love.

  From the second he’d seen Trystan, he’d known it. He could admit that, now. He’d felt the truth of their connection from the first. Bad folk always knew when they met the other half of themselves. The bond was instantaneous. Galahad had long suspected there was as much Bad as Good in him. Now he had proof there was more wickedness than he’d even imagined.

  It should have traumatized him, but instead he found himself grinning up at the sky, wanting to shout in triumph.

  He had his True Love. Finally. It was beyond anything he could have hoped. Beyond anything he deserved. He truly wasn’t damned. He saw it now. How could he be? He’d just been given an angel.

  “Kiss me.” He ordered, joy filling him.

  Trystan glanced at him in surprise.

  “Kiss me.” Galahad repeated, the tendons in his neck standing out from the strain of holding back his release. “Please. Give me what I need, Trystan. You’re the only one who can.”

  “Always.” The word was immediate. The grip on his shaft changed, as well. Becoming more territorial. Ownership and want and dominion went into each stroke. Galahad’s whole body shuddered. “I protect you. I comfort you. I touch you.” His wings spread out, like he was instinctively shielding Galahad. “Only me.”

  Galahad made a helpless sound of lust, seeing the incredible feathers above him.

  “No one else, knight.” Trystan seemed to be dwelling on this topic, for some reason. “Anything you need, I will provide. Understand?” It wasn’t a question, but he seemed to want an answer. He knew how attracted Galahad was to his wings and he used it to his advantage. His feathers very deliberately brushed against Galahad’s throbbing arousal, seeking the agreement he desired, and it was fucking awesome.

  Galahad lurched upward, craving the softness of the downy feathers. “Oh Jesus. Again. Please. More.”

  “Mine.” Trystan murmured, doing as he asked. The tip of Galahad’s staff was dusted with those magical wings again and the whole world was beautiful. “All mine. Say it.”

  “You’re going to be really possessive, aren’t you?” Galahad guessed with a smile, loving all of this and resisting Trystan’s demand just to play.

  A pause. “Yes.” Trystan sounded startled. “Yes, that is the word for what happens inside me when I picture you depending on another, or desiring another, or accepting emotions from another.” He nodded, as if he’d just solved a puzzle. “I feel very… possessive of you.”

  “I noticed.”

  “It is overwhelming. It fills my head with noise and many other emotions. All tell me to kill any other man who would try and claim you.”

  Galahad totally understood that. “I know. I feel it, too.”

  The thought of Trystan loving someone else made the darkness rise within him. He would kill that other bastard, before he even realized it happened. And when Galahad came out of his haze of grief and jealousy and anger and saw what he’d done… he’d only feel satisfaction and glee. He knew that. No one would take Trystan away from him and survive.

  Poor Trystan. His True Love was such a lunatic.

  “You feel possessive?” Trystan seemed surprised and pleased. “Towards me?”

  “Of course. Probably even worse than you do, because I’m not half as stable.” Galahad felt like he should apologize for ruining his chances at a normal life. “I need you, even when I know I’m not Good enough for you, Trys. Even when I know you could find a better man. Like someone who can fly and who’s not so fucked-up, for instance. I’m so sorry you’re stuck with me, but I can’t let you go.”

  “You concern yourself with very odd things.” Trystan lamented, with a shake of his head. “All who have seen us together know that I have no intention of choosing another. It’s absurdly clear.” His hand tugged a little bit harder and Galahad’s hips arched in ecstasy. “You do not seem as certain, though.”

  “I don’t?” Galahad managed a snort. “You haven’t been paying attention, then. You’re the only one I want. You can tell by how I keep telling you that you’re the only one I want.”

  “Yet?” Trystan’s voice was silky.

  “Huh?” It was hard to focus.

  “In that accursed Ted-ville, you told me you were not planning to be with another man… yet.” The implications of that word had clearly pissed him off. “I do not like that. At all. It is only me. Always.”

  “That’s what this is about?” Galahad would have rolled his eyes, if he wasn’t so busy reminding himself how to breathe. “Jesus Christ, tell me you’ve been brooding all this time over semantics.”

  “I understand the subtleties of your la
nguage, even if you don’t. Your words indicated that you may soon desire another. Of course I think of it often.”

  “I never said I desired another! Why would I desire another? Shit, we were arguing over some crazy thing you said and I was… God!” His hands fisted around the bindings, his body taut and shaking. “Again. Oh God. Whatever you just did, do it again.”

  He did it again and Galahad had never loved him more. “You chose this path, knight. When you claimed me, you made me a part of your clan. A part of yourself.”

  Sure. That sounded right. “Okay.”

  “You’ve pledged yourself to me.” His teeth nipped the side of Galahad’s neck, marking him and it was every goddamn fantasy of Galahad’s life come true. “And I keep what’s mine.”

  Galahad had to grind his own teeth together to keep himself from coming. His glazed eyes went back to Trystan’s massive wings looming above him. The beautiful, exotic sight did nothing to help him regain control. “Oh God…” He would die if he didn’t find relief. “I can’t hold on much longer. Please.”

  “Not yet. Tell me who you belong to first.”

  “You.” It was a low moan.

  “Who?” The hand continued its glorious work. “Say my name, Galahad. You know I like to hear it.”

  “Trystan.” He met his gaze, feeling both victorious and conquered. “I’m yours, Trys. Always.”

  “I like it when you’re sensible. It happens so rarely.” Trystan’s free hand came up to brush the golden locks from Galahad’s face and he gave a captivated sigh. “And I like your hair. I like the way it shimmers.”

  “You like it… when I give into your caveman tactics…” Galahad’s voice was coming in pants now.

  “That, too.” Trystan lowered his mouth to Galahad’s. “Kissing is your people’s custom, not mine. Show me what you need and I will provide it.”

  His lips touched Galahad’s in the lightest brush imaginable… and Galahad came.

  “Trystan.”

  His body stiffened, his mouth falling open as the biggest orgasm of his life rocked him. It was so much better than he’d ever imagined it could be. So much deeper and truer. Because he was so totally in love with the man who’d given it to him. It went on for so long, Galahad thought he would die from the pleasure of it.

  Trystan milked him dry, obviously pleased with himself. “I’m good at kissing.” He decided. “As I am good at all things. I knew I would be. I told you so.”

  Galahad went slack, barely able to suck oxygen into his lungs.

  Trystan glanced at his palm, like he wanted to see Galahad’s release on his skin. Then, he gave a satisfied sound. “I like that. Fuck. I didn’t expect to like that, so much.” He leaned down to nuzzle the side of Galahad’s head and sighed contentedly, like he was the one who’d found release. “I like everything about you, knight.” He murmured, his voice warm and tender.

  Galahad turned his face to rest his forehead against Trystan’s, feeling closer to this man than he’d ever felt to anyone. “I like everything about you, too, Trys.” He whispered, closing his eyes in bliss. “God… You can deflower me anytime you want.”

  Trystan’s mouth curved. “Oh, I plan to.” His hand went back to work. “I will have you again, now. Give me what I want, like a Good knight.”

  Damn if Galahad’s staff didn’t rise to the occasion at that order. His dazed eyes met Trystan’s in surprise. He had no idea he could recover that quickly.

  Trystan arched a brow. “It’s not fair to keep something so big contained for so long. It will take several rounds to satiate it. You really should have let me take care of this sooner.”

  “I’ve been begging for over a week.” Galahad scoffed, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. “If I’m not playing hard-to-get hard enough, you’re playing it too hard.”

  “I’m not playing, at all. I am hard-to-get.”

  Galahad gave him a crooked grin. “I got you.”

  “At the moment, I would say it is the other way around.” Trystan’s palm squeezed in some absolutely perfect spot and Galahad was suddenly more aroused than ever. “That’s it. That’s what I want.” Trystan looked proud at how easy it was for him to accomplish his goal. “It all belongs to me, yes?”

  “Yes.” Galahad nodded and his body certainly agreed. It responded to Trystan like it was starving for him. He was starved for him. “I’m all yours.”

  Trystan’s feathers brushed Galahad’s skin and he gave a contented rumble, feeling Galahad swell beneath him. “At least twice more before you can rest, knight. Then, several times tomorrow. Depravation isn’t healthy. You will need me to do this very often, I think.”

  “I will never get enough of you, Trystan.” Galahad breathed enraptured by the man.

  Trystan seemed satisfied with Galahad’s total capitulation. Not that it had been much of a fight. “Tell me again of your school film. Corrupted by the Winged Devil, yes? I wish to hear exactly which barbarous acts the gryphon used to desecrate the knight’s untouched body. I intend to invent even more depraved things to do with my innocent prisoner. It will not be difficult. I am excellent at telling stories and the wingless have dismal imaginations.”

  Galahad felt drugged. “Jesus…” He melted into Trystan’s touch, soaking it all in. Trystan was a genius at knowing how to extract every single reaction, from every single nerve-ending. “You’re right. You really are incredible at writing scripts.”

  If the Knight’s Academy had gone with Trystan’s ideas for their propaganda film, there would have been a line of cadets wanting to be the eager sexual hostages of the gryphons.

  “I have not even started on the scene.” A second hand joined the first and Galahad literally whimpered in elation. Trystan made that low sound that was nearly a chuckle, liking that reaction. “You are becoming a fan, yes? Now, I will show you how that gryphon really would have defiled his helpless virgin.”

  “Defile me in every way you can dream up.” Galahad said, while he still had the air to talk. “But untie me first. I want to show you something.”

  Trystan glanced at him with an undecided frown. “Untie you? But then you could leave.”

  Galahad shot him an incredulous look. “Are you deranged? Look where your hands are, Trystan. It took hard work for me to get them there. I’m not about to leave, now that I finally have you right where I want you.”

  Trystan wasn’t convinced. “I am…” he seemed to flounder for a word to describe his feelings, “vexed by the idea of releasing you. I like you tied. I know where you are and that you are not wandering off into trouble. You are safer this way.”

  “Untie me or I’ll untie myself. You know I can figure it out if I have to.” Galahad struggled into a sitting position, adopting the tone he used to command troops. “Now, Trystan.”

  Trystan grudgingly reached over and unfastened the ropes. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know why I listen to you. This is what I’m talking about. Even when I’m right, you somehow managed to…

  Galahad cut him off. The second his hands were free, he was dragging Trystan’s head down to his.

  Trystan jolted, startled by the fierceness of the kiss. Whenever Galahad was aggressive, it seemed to catch Trystan off guard. It dimly occurred to Galahad that nobody else had ever taken the lead with the man. Trystan was simply too intimidating for most people to even consider it.

  Or maybe he just allowed Galahad to do things he’d never tolerate with anyone else.

  Galahad’s tongue surged into Trystan’s mouth, showing him what he wanted. A heartbeat passed and then Trystan hesitantly responded. His tongue touched Galahad’s like he wasn’t sure he would like it. Then a hungry groan escaped him and he was all in. Within seconds, he was a full participant in the kiss. In less than a minute, he was the aggressor. His lips devouring and demanding more. You might be able to startle Trystan into submission for a moment, but the gryphon would always take charge, in the end. It was his nature.

  Galahad loved it. Loved him.

>   He finally pulled away to look at Trystan, wanting him to understand. “That is kissing.” He told him, breathlessly.

  Trystan’s mouth curved. “I like it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Let me ask you this, gryphon shills out there:

  If the War was so hard on them and the curse was so terrible…

  Why didn’t they just hand over the graal and be done with it?

  “Stopping the Savages” Podcast

  Sir Dragonet of Camelot- Former Troubadour of King Uther and Host of the Program

  Pellinore Mountains- Below Corbenic Cave

  Trystan stared at the cave for a long moment. …Then his eyes slid over to Galahad.

  Galahad smiled back at him, like everything was normal and under control.

  Trystan arched a brow, saying nothing.

  Galahad’s expression dimmed a bit. “It’s going to be way easier to get in there than it looks.” He assured Trystan earnestly.

  Trystan snorted and glanced back up at the cavern. It sat high on a black monolith, surrounded by jagged rocks. Inextinguishable flames burned in an impenetrable wall around it, blocking the entrance. Below, everything within half a mile was singed black or still aflame. Yet, the interior of the cave somehow shone brilliant white through the smoke. It looked enticingly cool and pristine inside the mysterious space. That was possibly why so many people had died trying to reach it.

  “This is the Fire Cave of Corbenic.” He said unnecessarily. “A place of legend and horror.”

  Galahad blinked with contrived innocence. The man truly was a terrible actor, as his TV shows so amply proved. “Is it?”

  “You know that it is.”

  “Well, I mean it doesn’t have a sign out front, so…”

  Trystan cut off that nonsense. “We are not entering the Fire Cave of Corbenic, Galahad. I mean it.”

  It wasn’t often that exactly what you desired was delivered into your grasp. The night before, though, it had happened to Trystan. Galahad had shared his thoughts and his body, in ways that he’d never done with anyone else. The last thing Trystan wanted to do was backtrack on the progress he was making with the man. Disappointing Galahad was not desirable, at all.