Merlin's Kiss

by Stephanie Burke

  She would never have believed he would fit inside her if she had not experienced the pleasure first-hand. Luxuriating in the gentle ravishing, she tightened her inner walls around him, loving the feel of the tingling nerves that shot joy throughout her body.

  "Stop!" he cried as he felt her work her muscles, exploring this newly discovered way to drive him mad. "Or I won't last!"

  Brieana felt it building up inside her, starting at her clenched toes, the spears of pleasure piercing her thighs. Her chest became tight, the sounds of her own panting breaths taking her to a higher plateau. Her eyes began to water and her clitoris to burn; she knew the cataclysmic release she had experienced with him was about to happen all over again.

  "Yes!" she whimpered. "Come with me!"

  Reading the mounting tension in her face, Kerian realized his love was with him every step of this journey into the dimension of pleasure.

  Bending low, he hooked her thighs over his arms, spreading her open for a deeper penetration, even as he gripped her shoulders with his hands, holding her in place for what he was about to do.

  "Let's fly!" he growled as he began a series of short, hard jabs, dragging the swollen head of his cock across her inner love spot, making sure his shaft caressed her burning clit with each thrust.

  Brieana went wild underneath him, struggling to move against this blinding pleasure.

  But his position held her fast, forcing this extreme pleasure upon her body, wracked with trembling.

  "Uh, oh! Kerian!" she gasped, trying to force enough air into her body to gasp the words. "I…love…you!"

  "Brieana, you are my life!" Kerian groaned, thrusting harder as he felt the pressure build up in his sac, felt his shaft vibrate with the coming release, then his head tremble as he began to lose himself in a climax greater than any he had ever experienced before.

  "Kerian!" Brieana screamed as white lightning tore through her body, shredding her nerves, turning her body into a taut, throbbing thing before she exploded.

  "Yes," Kerian groaned again as he felt his seed explode from his body, racing towards her womb, filling her with his life.

  "Brieana," he managed to moan as his body collapsed atop her, shuddering and twitching, his hips giving the final sharp thrust to ensure her fulfillment.

  "Oh, Kerian," Brieana whispered as her body continued to quake, her eyes to water, and her heart to beat rapidly with its joy.

  Slowly he rolled from her, gently easing her legs down, caressing her thighs and back as she rolled into his embrace, seeking comfort and warmth.

  "I love you," he said softly into her hair as she burrowed into his neck, trembling and shaken, basking in the afterglow of their love.

  "Always," she returned, closing her eyes, feeling his heat next to her, relishing this peaceful, quiet time.

  No matter what happened on the morrow, this shining moment would exist in her heart for always, branding her ownership of him onto her soul and hers onto his.

  Chapter Thirty

  "The time has come," Shala purred as she pulled her book of magic from its hiding place. "The time has come to end this madness."

  As she spoke, she gently stroked the small mound that her stomach had become, feeling the cooing of the child within.

  Feverishly, she poured over the ancient language, laughing at what Dagon had tossed to her like so many pieces of rubbish.

  The spell for the Man-Demon!

  She had all the ingredients, and now, thanks to Dagon, the power to call upon. Now, she only had to wait. The bastard would come calling soon, and then she would be rid of him and own this whole isle!

  She chuckled softly to herself, running her hands over her stomach. Dagon's reign was coming to an end.

  "Something amuses?" the silky voice whispered from behind.

  Shala jumped, turning quickly to notice the lights dimming and the curtains ruffling at the windows.

  "Dagon," she gasped. "What brings you here at this hour?"

  She strove for her usual autocratic voice, but beads of sweat on her forehead gave notice of her nerves.

  "What else, my lovely," he whispered as he moved into her view, extending his wings to their full leathery extent, clicking his nails together menacingly as he approached. His red eyes glowed in the dim light of the room, harbingers of danger. "Power."

  "Power?" she asked, stepping away from the book as if it didn't matter. "The only power I have is what you deigned to give, Dagon. And even that came with a price." She purposely rubbed her stomach, bringing his gaze to the price in question.

  "And how is my little daughter?" he purred, stepping close and placing his hand upon her stomach.

  Shala jumped as a jolt of pure energy sprang from his fingertips to encircle her stomach, making her clutch his arms in pain as it was absorbed through her skin.

  "Good," the small voice in her mind giggled and the baby began a vigorous kicking motion.

  "Dagon!" Shala doubled over in pain, her grip on his arms the only thing holding her upright, and panted. Sweat beaded on her brow as her nails tore bloody gouges out of his arms. Eyes widened in shock at the sudden pain, she stared up pleadingly at him. "Stop!"

  "If you want to lose a liver, be my guest. But I want my child to live, Shala, my sweet. So until your body expels my heir, I will supplement her growth in this time of need. You do want a healthy baby, do you not?"

  He looked at her distress, an amused smile curling at his lips.

  "Yes," she managed as her knees began to shake.

  "Very good," he purred as he reached out a second hand to stroke her face.

  With a sigh, he hefted her up in his arms, folding his wings as he did so, and carried her over to her bed.

  "Now, this power, my love. Did you not feel it?" he asked as he lazily ran his fingers through her hair as he settled in beside her, lightly stroking her back, soothing the pain, but replacing it with desire.

  "No!" she gasped as suddenly the sharp force zapping through her body became coaxing, drawing warm feelings through her.

  She tried to fight it, but his energy was now roaming through her, teasing her senses, exciting her nerve endings, drawing her closer to the unmistakable animal magnetism Dagon exuded with such ease.

  "Then you are turning out to be a poor sorceress, my sweet," he whispered as his hand slowly tightened in her hair.

  "Dagon!" she gasped in pain as his hand slowly tightened, while the other dispensed the warm pleasure.

  "If you are toying with me, Shala, if you are playing a game, best you remember that you gamble with your life!"

  Even as her mouth opened in shock, he bent low, lapping at her lips with his rough tongue, touching nerves in her face she never knew existed.

  "I would never…" Shala moaned.

  "Yes you would, pretty little bitch. That is why we get along so famously!" He breathed against her lips, gently nuzzling her with his nose.

  "But…"

  "Just remember, lover, as many tricks as you pull, I am still master of the game."

  He sharply jerked her head back, forcing her neck into a painful arch, exposing her vulnerable spots.

  "You know, I can break your neck without killing you, and your body would still nurture my offspring?" he purred.

  "Yes!" Shala gasped, real fear making her voice tremble as she fought to look up at his face to read his intentions.

  Had he felt the power from the old grimore? Did he know about the ancient spell?

  "That's what I love about you, Shala, my pretty," he sighed as he tightened the pressure holding her head back. "You always know just what to say to make me feel better."

  "Please, Dagon!" Shala gasped, fighting to breathe. Her fear and the position of her head were making it hard for her to draw air into her lungs.

  "Tell me something, Shala," he answered in his calm midnight voice. "Make me feel good."

  "The men," she gasped. "The clan leaders will arrive tomorrow as planned."

  "I feel better," he purred. "But
make me feel great."

  "I have sent out a message that we were being invaded, that my stepson was murdered trying to stop the menace. The leaders are scared, demanding that justice be served. They are ready for a good fight, Dagon. They all want to be the next Warlord. If for only that, they will all come."

  Suddenly the pressure eased off of her hair as Dagon slowly released her.

  Gasping for breath, Shala threw her hands around her aching neck, trying to rub the sting of abused muscles away while glaring at the creature she had shared her body with.

  "You have made me feel so…good, Shala, my pretty. Murder good…sex good… power-giving good."

  "No!" Shala gasped, remembering the pain of the last bit of power he shared with her. "No more of your energy power."

  "Not good enough for that?" he leered as he ran one hand down her chest to cup a full breast. "Are you getting fuller, my sweet?" he purred, as he gently kneaded her breast. "Hmm, yes. Pregnancy agrees with you."

  Traitor, she hissed to herself, noting that her body still jumped to erotic attention whenever this man was around.

  But before she could say anything, try to build her walls up against him, she heard that ominous little voice in her mind.

  My Daddy, it hissed and suddenly she felt as if her insides were being torn apart.

  "Dagon!" she gasped again as her face lost its color and her teeth clamped into her bottom lip, drawing blood.

  "Baby throwing a temper tantrum?" he asked on a chuckle as he dropped her breast and moved his hand to soothe their child. "Baby does not like to share. Is that from your side, or mine, dear Shala?" he asked as he calmed the child.

  "What did you put into me?" Shala demanded as the pain subsided and her teeth unclamped from around her lip.

  "Why, little mother, it's our baby, yours and mine. The best of both of us, or the worst, depending on how you look at things," he mused. "But she is healthy and strong, and already knows her own mind. Make sure she doesn't know yours too, my love. Our offspring then could be…vicious."

  He chuckled as he pulled himself from the bed and glared at the open window.

  "I must leave. Evening is breaking and I don't want anyone to see me come from this room. People may begin to question my taste if that ever happens."

  "You bastard!" Shala hissed quietly, not wanting to arouse the anger of her child.

  "Yes I am, sadly," he returned. "But this child will have a mother and a father—well, at least a father."

  "Is that a threat?" she hissed, her temper overcoming her common sense.

  "I make no threats, Lady Shala," he said calmly, his eyes now glittering evil rubies, set against the shadows as they swallowed his form again. "I give you probable outcomes for your future."

  Then just as quickly as he came, he was gone.

  "Future, you winged rabbit! You have no future!"

  She pulled herself from the bed, stumbling as her legs began to quake, and made her way to the innocent-looking table that held her grimoire.

  "I have something else for you, something that you didn't plan on!"

  She hefted the small silken bag, dusty with age and yellowed with time.

  "I have held onto this for many a year, Dagon. It is almost time to use it! Then with the help of my slaves, you and your men will rue the day you ever tried to take the Light Isles from me! I was using you, you bastard, and now it's my turn to be in control! Tomorrow!"

  She smiled grimly in the dim lights, her face looking strangely like the one that had earlier taken his leave.

  "Oh, yes, Dagon. I shall have my revenge, a thousand times over!"

  * * * * *

  "I have a funny feeling," Dagon said to no one in particular as he made his way back to his camp. "That bitch is up to something. I know I would be if I was in her place. This requires careful watching."

  He smiled as he neared his hidden encampment, and saw his people, the cattle he had led to this place, shudder in fear.

  The women especially, after his earlier interest in a woman for the night, pushed one in front of the other, trying to hide behind each other, leaving the hapless victim in front to face his unpredictable desires.

  It gave him an idea.

  "I suddenly have need of my scapegoat."

  He closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling for his protégé, who was not such a mirror image after all.

  "Oh yes, a sacrifice, just in case!" he purred when he felt Tybo's energy. "A shame to lose one so promising, but I needs do what I must."

  Dagon trusted no one; it was one of his secrets to longevity.

  He motioned a light-haired woman into his tent, chuckling as she fearfully approached, wings dragging in submission.

  "I have just the thing, to move my plan along," he chuckled. "And just the right magic."

  All was quiet for quite some time, then a loud wail was heard before it was abruptly cut off.

  He motioned to a nearby guard and handed him a carefully wrapped package.

  "With your life," he told him and then disappeared back into his tent.

  The guard would be eliminated later, after he disposed of the contents of the package.

  Dagon took no chances and trusted no one.

  And he trusted one like Shala even less!

  Always, always have a back up, he thought as he returned to his tent and finalized his new plans.

  If things didn't work out here, there would always be another day to fight, to conquer, to rule!

  Chapter Thirty-One

  "Move quietly," Kerian warned as he crawled through the tunnel that started near the edge of the thick forests surrounding Mirage. "These tunnels lead inside the castle, but I don't want to take the chance of anyone finding us here. There is no room to fight."

  "Have you figured out that sword, Woman of Legend, or are we to wait for some grand miracle that will ensure our victory?" Tybo whispered as he folded his wings closer to his body and glared at Brieana's backside as she followed Kerian.

  Tybo was bringing up the rear and unhappy about it. More than he hated having his wings touched, he hated being in enclosed areas. Dark Isle men were created to fly free, soaring through the clouds, not to scurry beneath the earth in tight tunnels like parasites!

  "That magic must have really unnerved you," Brieana countered, ignoring his growly temper.

  When they had broken camp and made their final move towards the castle this morning, Tybo had returned concerned and upset about an energy source that had flown past him, a source of magic like none he had ever felt before.

  "It did, Lady, but it was not as unnerving as crawling through this hole in the ground!"

  Tybo had seen the necessity of sneaking into the castle, to confront Shala with the information he had, but he didn't have to appreciate their means of getting there.

  "We have to know what Shala is doing," Kerian said over the lump of hurt in his chest. He still found it difficult to give up all of the few remaining positive thoughts that he had of his stepmother. He had hoped, had trusted in her for so long…

  "She is screwing Dagon and giving your people over to slavery. I fail to understand why that is so difficult to comprehend," Tybo snapped, before reining in his temper.

  It was not the Warlord's fault he had faith in the faithless woman. But it was a bit difficult seeing people forget what they were. It took him years with Dagon to see that his intentions were truly evil.

  "We don't know that," Kerian insisted as he slid to his stomach to get past a low overhang. "But we are going to find out."

  "And what are all these people doing at Mirage?" Brieana asked.

  Upon entering the land surrounding the castle, they took cover and hid as several warriors passed, each one looking grave and a bit frightened.

  Kerian thought it best to avoid them, not knowing who he could trust, so the unicorns were set free in the forest after they unloaded the swords and proceeded on foot.

  "Think, Lady," Tybo said after a moment of silence. "Why would you
gather a group of powerful men together?"

  "To join them, to make an army," she decided.

  "Or to kill them all off and rule independent of any who would oppose you," Kerian said, his words bringing about a ringing silence.

  "I never thought of that," Brieana said quietly, appreciating the difference in their approaches to such matters.

  "Queen you may be," Tybo said, "you still think like a girl."

  "Well, I am a girl, a woman!" Brieana hissed over her shoulder before she too was forced to inch along on her belly.

  "Of that, I have no doubt. I could hear the Warlord scream that fact to all of creation!" Tybo hissed, as he lay flat on the ground, giving him the extra inches he needed to get his wings past the barrier. "How long is this tunnel, anyway?"

  "Quiet!" Kerian hissed, and his whisper echoed.

  They were entering a higher chamber.

  Reaching back, Kerian took Brieana's hand and helped her to her feet, noting that she stretched her back and neck as she regained her balance.

  She had insisted on keeping Excalibur strapped to her back, and the sword he designed, her war sword, strapped to her war belt.

  Kerian had his great blade strapped to his back also, but his belt and vest were filled with every conceivable weapon at his disposal. He was taking no chances with her safety! And if it came down to it, his life was forfeit for hers.

  Tybo entered the chamber with a happy sigh, ignoring the dirt and damp, so long as he could spread his wings.

  "Where to now?" he asked, his eyes glowing a curious yellow, his wings shifting in hue to match.

  "We go up," Kerian said, pointing to a staircase that lay partially hidden by large spider webs.

  "Up is good," Tybo said, feeling them leave the womb of the earth and climb into the air.

  "Up, where?" Brieana asked, adjusting the fit of the long sword against her back.

  "I can't believe the famed Excalibur looks like that!" Tybo sighed, making Brieana roll her eyes in his direction.