Immortal Flame (The Excalibur Duet Book 2)

by Kim Loraine

  “I’ll just…go clean up,” I say, making my way to the bathroom and leaving my husband and my…Lancelot together in the aftermath of the most erotic experience I’ve ever had.

  “Good,” Lance says. “That leaves Brooks and I time to talk.”

  Brooks

  The scent of sweat and passion fills the air around us as Lancelot and I face off. His brows are drawn, eyes narrowed while he assesses me. He rises and crosses his arms over his chest. The man is completely unashamed of his nudity.

  “I just had your wife right in front of you,” he states.

  I nod. A flash of the not-so-distant memory making my cock stiffen even more behind my breeches. “I saw.”

  “And you aren’t going to say anything about it?”

  “In case you didn’t notice, I gave her the key to finding her release.”

  His jaw clenches. “She was already on her way there.”

  We have to stop this. He’s fighting for something he’ll never have. If we can find a way to give her both of us, maybe she can be whole. “Lance, Gwen loves you.”

  “I know. Does she love you?”

  How do I answer this? “She hasn’t said the words. But you know more than anyone that words aren’t the only way to love someone. How long did it take her to tell you?”

  He closes his eyes and sighs. “Centuries.”

  “Exactly. We are destined. The handfasting spell bound us even more. If you try to break us, you’ll fail.”

  Bending down, he collects his pants and pulls them on. Clothing does nothing to erase the memory of his expression as he poured his release into my Guinevere…our Guinevere. My cock jerks with the need to climax.

  “Are you really him?” He steps closer, so close I can feel his breath on my face. “I know Gwen believes it.”

  “I think you do too,” I say, my throat tight.

  “I saw it in your eyes. When I filled her with my seed. But before that, when you were watching from the doorway. Your eyes burned while you watched her sink onto my cock. Just like Arthur’s did.”

  My heart hammers, the tension building between us nearly unbearable. I don’t know what to do next. I’ve never been so uncertain about anything. “Watching you.”

  He frowns. “What?”

  “I was watching you.” I swallow and work to tamp down some of the nerves controlling my body. “I watched you make her moan.”

  “And what did you want, Arthur?” He’s still so close.

  “Call me Brooks.”

  “Fine. What did you want, Brooks?”

  “I wanted what I never had when I was Arthur. Her and you, both loving me.”

  His fingers brush my arm and even that slight touch makes my body burn. “Didn’t you already have that?”

  “Never in the way I wanted.”

  I can’t stand this. Conflicting feelings pull me in every direction, but at the forefront is my need. Reaching out, I cup the back of his neck and pull his lips to mine. His rough stubble and spicy scent is so different from Gwen’s softness. Lancelot stills under my kiss and panic laces my heart until he groans and his hands grip my head. It’s angry and harsh, filled with frustration and a lifetime of unrequited lust. Our hips brush against each other and his hard cock hits my own. He wants this as much as I do, but when I slide my hand down his torso, he jerks away. Breaths coming in sharp gasps and eyes wild with confusion.

  “No. I…” he begins, but trails off.

  A soft gasp catches my attention and the two of us break apart. Gwen stands in the bathroom doorway, cheeks pink, eyes wide, beautiful body wrapped in a towel.

  “Gwen,” I say, not sure where to go from here. She’s known about my love for Lancelot since before I could admit it aloud. But seeing us like this, if she saw anything, might be different for her.

  “What happened?” she asks.

  But Lancelot is gone, he’s across the room, staring out the window, and I know the moment has been lost. I pushed too hard, and he wasn’t ready. Gwen is our common thread, she’s the one thing that sews us together.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter, raking a hand through my hair. “Good night.”

  Lance doesn’t turn to face me, but Gwen looks from me to him with a confused frown. “Lance?”

  He doesn’t answer, instead the man braces his hands on the windowsill and refuses to look at either of us.

  “Someone needs to give me an answer or I’m going to lock the two of you in this room until you work it out.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” I say. “I just…I misread things. I’m going back to my bed.”

  Lance turns to face us both, a torn expression on his handsome features. “Please don’t leave.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gwen

  Morning light streams in from the open window, a beam of gold cast across three sets of tangled legs and rumpled sheets. I blink and yawn, coming to my senses and trying to figure out exactly where I am. Two warm bodies are pressed against me, Lancelot on my right, his arm draped across my torso, big palm cupping my bare breast. Brooks is on my left, he’s curled on his side, facing away from me but still touching my thigh.

  We’d ended up crawling in Lance’s bed together after he asked Brooks to stay, not talking, not making it into anything sexual. The time for that had passed. We lay there in the flickering firelight, me between these two strong men, until all three of us fell asleep.

  “Guinevere, stop moving. It’s early yet,” Lance’s deep rumble makes my nipples pebble with arousal. He squeezes my breast and pulls me closer. “I’m not ready to wake from this dream.”

  Lance throws his leg over mine and wraps me in his body. I giggle and squirm, loving the press of his hard length against my hip. “Stop, you’ll wake Brooks.”

  “Done,” Brooks grumbles, rolling onto his back. His cock is thick and long, I know this from personal experience, but right now, it’s tenting the sheet covering us.

  If I want to fix things between the three of us, this is my best chance. Before we leave the safety of the Lady’s home. Before we have to return to the real world.

  I reach over and stroke Brooks, slow and deliberate. His breaths come in sharp pants and I keep my focus on him the whole time. Lancelot tenses and I cut a glance to him. His jaw is set, brow furrowed, but not in anger. He’s curious. His grip on me tightens before he relaxes and starts twisting my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I let out a wanton moan and nearly die when my knight releases me and sits up, pulling back the covers and exposing us completely.

  If Brooks getting my attention bothers him, Lance doesn’t show it. His erection juts out, hard as steel. Brooks moans and his eyelids flutter when I twist my circled palm around his crown.

  “Take him in your mouth, Gwen,” Lance says, voice heavy and dark.

  “Touch me while I suck him.”

  Brooks groans and bucks his hips. I’ve stopped stroking his length, and he wants more, I can tell by the desperate look in his eyes. Straddling his thighs, I lower my mouth to the head of his cock, tasting the bead of clear arousal at the tip.

  “Ass in the air, my queen.” Lance’s order is rough and commanding, and desire floods me as I obey.

  Two long fingers slide into my wetness while I take Brooks into my mouth. My husband cries out and fists the sheets at his side while I suck him all the way to the root. Lance continues to fill my cunt with his fingers from behind, but he’s moved so he’s on his knees beside us. I can see him at my side, stroking his long cock, abs tensing and flexing as the sensations grow.

  Then Lance groans and stops his attentions to my sex. I lift off of Brooks’ shaft and stare at the man next to me. He’s flushed, his jaw is clenched, and hips pumping as he fucks his fist. But more than that, Brooks has a hand on Lance’s thigh, gripping tightly, knuckles white with tension.

  “Ride me, wife,” Brooks grunts, his erection twitching with the need to be given release. “If he gets to plant his seed inside you, so do I.”

  I move
up his body and sink down onto him while Lance continues thrust into his own fist. I moan at the feeling of Brooks so far inside me. Lance cups my face and kisses me deep, his whole body trembling as he nears his orgasm.

  Brooks uses his free hand to tease my clit and I’m already so turned on that I shatter around him, crying out into Lance’s mouth. Then Lance bites my lower lip, a harsh moan echoing between us as he spills his pleasure across my thigh and Brooks’ lower belly. Brooks follows, his shaft flexing inside me, a guttural groan escaping him when the orgasm crests. I fall forward, chest to chest with Brooks, not caring that Lance’s release coats us both. Little aftershocks of pleasure roll through me as Brooks softens inside my body.

  We stay there, lying still, breathing heavily. Lancelot’s palm runs up the length of my back while Brooks strokes my hair. “I think we’ve ruined Gwen,” Brooks teases.

  “It’s impossible to ruin perfection such as hers.”

  My heart swells to have the two of them, holding me, loving me, and loving each other.

  Lance plucks me off the bed and cradles me in his arms. “Let’s clean up.”

  Brooks follows us into the bathroom and he starts the shower. His broad back filled with defined muscle puts on a show with each move he makes.

  “Put me down, Lance.” I laugh as he tickles my bare side, his easy smile warming me. I haven’t seen him like this more than a few times in our lives.

  He sets me on my feet and I look at the two men in the room with me. “I need you both. Do you understand now? You don’t have to touch each other, but if you do, I don’t mind.” I take both of their hands. “We’re three parts of the same whole. I can feel it.”

  “So can I,” Brooks says.

  Lance nods but doesn’t respond. He’s still struggling.

  I rise up on my toes and press a light kiss to his lips. I’ll never get enough of this man. He and Brooks are made for me, and for each other. Reaching back, I thread my fingers with Brooks’ and squeeze gently, showing him he’s not been forgotten.

  “Now, we’ll get ourselves cleaned, fed, and the Lady can help us find our path to the scabbard.” Lance gestures for me to step into the large open shower. It looks like a stone waterfall but steam rises from the floor as the water cascades from the ceiling. “This will likely be the last hot shower you have until we return to the human world. Enjoy it while you can.”

  I grin. “As long as I have the two of you in here with me, I’m sure I will.”

  Brooks grins and steps inside, his gaze trained on me and me alone. Lance follows, also focused on me. It’s almost as though they’re actively avoiding each other after what happened in the bed. I can’t fix this between them. They’ll have to figure it out on their own, but at least now we can share the same space without a fight breaking out.

  Stepping under the water, I close my eyes, tilt back my head, and wet my long hair. The scent of jasmine fills the air and I feel strong hands running over my hips and thighs. It’s intimate, being cared for this way. Brooks. It’s Brooks. I sense his angelic grace and the power flowing through his veins. Then Lance is behind me, his big body pressed against mine, fingers trailing along my throat and down until he’s tracing soft patterns over my clavicle. The air is warm with steam even though Lance’s shoulders have stolen most of the waterfall.

  “Already needy again?” he whispers, lips grazing my ear.

  I am. I’m ready for either of them…both of them. I nod.

  Brooks chuckles and his hands slide over my belly and up until he’s washing my breasts. “If we give in to our little wanton queen, we’ll never leave this place and the world will burn.”

  That shouldn’t be funny. It should strike fear through all of us. The fog of arousal clears, but only slightly. Lancelot’s teeth scrape my neck and he bites down hard enough to make my nipples pebble. I moan.

  His hands run down my body and those talented fingers of his play between my legs. “Let it burn,” Lance says.

  My eyes snap open and I wrench myself away from both of them. “What is going on here?”

  “We want you. I should think that’s obvious.” Brooks’ brow is furrowed in confusion.

  “Let it burn? That doesn’t sound like either of you.”

  Lance blinks a few times and shakes his head. “You’re right. Something is…there’s something strange in the air.”

  I breathe in, closing my eyes and working to sense the source of the magic that’s clouding our judgment. “It’s the jasmine.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lance says.

  “The soap. Someone laced it with a lust spell. I can feel the magic all over me.”

  “You’re telling me this isn’t real? It was real in the bed.”

  Brooks grabs me and pulls me to him. “Lance is right. This is more than fucking magic.”

  I’m hit with a wave of unnatural arousal at the contact of his body against mine. “Yes. I mean, no. It’s…God, just stop touching me while I try to work this out.”

  I step out of the shower, needing space to clear my head of this spell. The moment the fresh air hits me, I can think straighter. It’s something in the jasmine. It has to be. I have to get the two of them outside in the clean air. “You two want me? Rinse off and come get me.”

  They’re both looking at me. Lance and Brooks stand inches away from each other, the water cascading over their shoulders, lust heavy in the air. But it’s not the soap. It’s not the jasmine. It’s the steam in the shower and I’m pulled right back to the both of them.

  Lancelot

  Gwen is right. This isn’t simple desire. It’s all consuming and dangerous. Animalistic need to rut and fuck and claim her surges through me. It burns. She takes a step forward and I reach out to stop her, but I’m too late. Brooks already has her in his arms and she’s moaning and whimpering. He drops to his knees and kisses his way down her belly. Rage builds in my chest. She’s mine to claim. My mate. She’s the one meant for me. I’m not supposed to have to share her.

  There’s a heavy glass bottle nestled in a small nook. It’ll serve. I could easily come up behind him, bash in his head, take my woman as my own as soon as he’s out of the way. My hand twitches with the need to feel the cool glass in my palm.

  Wait.

  No.

  What am I thinking? I don’t want to kill Brooks.

  I shake my head, trying to clear unwanted thoughts from my mind and turn my focus away from the two of them, both clearly wrapped in the lust inducing steam. My skin is coated in a sheen of sweat now that I’m not under the spray of water. It’s hot. Uncomfortably so.

  “There has to be a way to turn this thing off,” I mutter. Brooks turned it on. He twisted a knob, and the shower started. I saw him. If I can’t stop this, we’ll be lost in a never ending tail spin of desire, fucking and fighting until we’re all dead or the world ends.

  The walls are all craggy rocks with moisture trickling down them, but the floor is smooth tile with what looks like small slats all around the perimeter. Steam rises from them in thick curls, but separate from the cascading water.

  Gwen moans again, and Brooks grunts, making jealousy rear its head. I close my eyes and feel the wall, not letting myself look at anything until I’m in control of my mind. I nearly let out a yell of triumph when my fingers close around a hidden knob under one of the larger pieces of rock jutting out from the wall. I twist until it won’t go any farther and then open my eyes.

  I stare down at the steam, praying this works. The bewitched mist dissipates, turning to thin wisps before stopping all together.

  I breathe in slowly, already feeling the diminishing power in the room. Cutting a glance behind me, I see Gwen and Brooks peeling themselves off each other. Her eyes find mine and guilt swims inside their depths. All I can do is shake my head to tell her this wasn’t her fault.

  “What kind of shower is this?” Brooks asks.

  “An enchanted one. Someone didn’t want us to leave this room.” Gwen steps out of the shower
and wraps herself in a towel and the two of us follow her. “If you hadn’t found the way to turn off that steam, we would’ve died in there.” Her palm rests on my chest. “You saved us, Lance.”

  Her skin is red and too warm. “I thought we’d end up killing each other over you,” I admit. “I almost bashed Brooks’ head in when you went to him.”

  “What?” Brooks looks at me and frowns. “Why?”

  “Jealousy?”

  “Amplified emotions. Possessive rage. It’s a lust spell.” Gwen squeezes the water from her hair with another towel. “I told you as soon as I realized it, but you were too wrapped up in the spell’s effects.”

  Brooks wraps a towel around his waist and grits his teeth. “I’d say it’s definitely time to get out of the Lady’s house.”

  My defenses go up. “The Lady would never do anything to harm me. She raised me.”

  Gwen’s hand slides over my arm and I’m instantly at ease. “It’s not the Lady. But Brooks is right, someone doesn’t want us to leave here alive. One of the Lady’s maidens could easily have bewitched us.” We walk into the bedroom, the air chilly after our time in the shower.

  “But aren’t they loyal to her?” I can’t imagine one of those devoted maidens would willingly betray her. I tug on my pants and tunic before sitting on the couch and sliding my feet into boots.

  “She shared some…details of her life with us before she brought us to you. She’s not a fairy. She’s a witch. More to the point, she was a member of the same coven as Calista and…it would seem, Morgan.”

  My gut churns. “Morgan?”

  “They were many things, and good was never one of them.” Gwen won’t look at me as she paces the bedroom. “And they spent their lives trying to ruin mine. It can’t be too much of a challenge to infiltrate the Lady’s home. Morgan hid in plain sight and tortured all three of us without our knowledge.”

  Some time during this conversation Brooks dressed. Now he stands to the side, his hair still damp, eyes dark and trained on Gwen. “Regardless of who cast that spell, it’s not safe here. We need to be off, searching for the scabbard so we can return to your coven, Gwen.”