by Ann Vremont
Kean sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to respond. She stood at the balcony doors, one hand holding a curtain back while she looked out at the lawn where Claubine was overseeing preparations for an outdoor dinner. Aideen counted the number of place settings. Twenty!
“And I regret pressing you on an invocation ceremony,” he said. Cold calculation poured from him and she looked back to where he sat on the bed, feet planted wide apart as he watched her. “I won’t request that you participate in the ceremony again,” he continued. “It was asking too much and I’m sorry.”
She played over his words and flat expression. From the balcony doors, she turned to face him. Her hands hung limp at her sides. “Are you implying the ceremony will still be held?”
Kean’s flat gaze held hers. He took a light breath, gathering the words he knew would hurt her. “I think every avenue of action must be pursued to keep you safe and to locate the Bloodstone.”
“And you’re going to…participate?” she faltered over the end of her question and retreated back to looking out the window. Fresh arrangements of white calla lilies were being placed on the tables. Claubine bent over one of the centerpieces and waved the flowers’ fragrance closer to her as she inhaled.
“That is my position within the temple, Aideen.” He slipped his shoes off and padded across the carpet toward the bathroom. “I’ll run you some bathwater,” he suggested. “You’ll feel more yourself afterwards.”
Aideen heard the water running in the tub and glanced at the half-open bathroom door. Kean was bent over the water, sprinkling bath salts. She started across the room, her steps tentative as she neared the double doors that would take her to the hallway and out of the house.
The water stopped running and Kean’s voice drifted to where she stood, her hand resting on the doorknob. “Aideen?” She didn’t answer and he released a remorseful sigh. He stood and walked back into the bedroom, his gaze unerringly going to where she stood ready to flee.
“You’re not leaving the estate, Aideen.” He ran his hand, still wet from running the bathwater, absently over the front of his shirt. “You don’t have to take a bath, or sleep, or talk to anyone…but you’re not leaving.”
Aideen nodded slowly, in mock understanding. “I’d forgotten.”
“What?” he asked, body tense in anticipation of her answer.
“That I’d been kidnapped…by you.”
He was across the room in three quick strides, his hand pressed against the doors’ centerline. “Aideen, I wish—” he began but then he broke the thought with a sharp shake of his head. “No, that’s not true. I don’t wish I could just let you walk out of here.” He brought his other hand up, an arm on either side of her, her back pressed against the door.
Aideen tried to block his emotions from her mind but they were too parallel to her own to be denied. She looked at the floor, trying to conceal the consent lingering in her eyes. Kean pressed closer to her. He bent down, his lips whispering across her mouth.
“I lost you once.” He forced her to look up at him.
Kean weaved his fingers through the length of her blonde hair and cupped the back of her head. He pulled her closer to him until their bodies were pressed against one another. Aideen felt a bridge of need arching between them, its power overwhelming her senses as he tilted her head further back, her lips parting at the gentle strain on the muscles of her neck.
“I’m not going to lose you again, Aideen.”
His mouth covered hers while one hand slid over her shoulder to cup a breast. Aideen melted into his touch and strained against him, rising up on her toes to feel the delicious glide of his cock against her. His other hand moved to caress the curve of her ass and grind her closer still. He bent, his hand pressing against the back of her knee until she wrapped both arms around him and allowed him to carry her into the bathroom. The tub was a third full, its water steaming. Kean stood Aideen on her feet and pulled her top off. He reached behind her, his mouth nuzzling her breasts as he found the clasps and unhooked her bra. He paused to suckle one nipple, his hands moving to the front of her jeans and unzipping them.
Kean sank to his knees, his tongue darting into her navel before his head dipped lower, following the downward sweep of her jeans as she stepped from them. He pressed his lips against her mound, the fabric of her panties a feeble barrier against his heat. He caressed her hips, one hand pulling at the elastic band while the other slipped between her thighs. His fingers found her center, steaming like the air around them, and he stroked the inside walls of her pussy.
Aideen clung to him, her body rocking as his tongue found her clit. She leaned back, pressing her cunt against his mouth, wanting his touch, his kisses to continue forever. “I want you inside me,” she groaned and tried to force him to stand.
Kean caught her hands and encircled her wrists behind her back. His tongue explored the surface of her clit, laved the warm folds of her labia. His upper lip massaged the pink button while his tongue stroked the spongy entrance to her vagina. Kean released Aideen’s hands and pulled her into a sitting position on the edge of the tub. She swung her legs over his shoulders and leaned back over the tub’s open expanse. Gripping the opposite rim of the tub, Aideen locked one leg over the other, her ass hovering on the thin line of porcelain as she met his thrusting tongue. A hot flush spread across her breasts as the first wave of climax crashed against her. She released a low moan and said his name.
“I want you inside me,” she pleaded, her body pulsing against his probing tongue.
Kean ran his hands under her back and helped Aideen into an upright position. She was at eyelevel with his jean-clad cock and her fingers raced to release the top button. She flipped the zipper pull up and separated the jean flaps. The tip of his cock was breaching the top of his silk boxers and she nibbled at the head. She tasted the salt of his pre-cum as it beaded and she dipped her tongue into the small slit.
“Aideen, I can’t,” he said, his voice choked as he gently pushed her away.
She looked at his cock, swollen in its readiness to penetrate. “I think you can,” she said, her lips seeking the glistening tip.
“I’m sorry,” he said and pulled away. His hands fumbled with the zipper and he refused to meet Aideen’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far…not before the ceremony.”
Aideen sat naked on the edge of the tub. She felt played and she searched his face for some hint that he was trying to manipulate her. But when he finally did look into her eyes, she saw only his pain. He went down on his knees again. His head in her lap, he wrapped his arms around her waist. His body trembled against hers and she smoothed his hair.
“I don’t want to meet those people out there,” she said softly, still stroking his head.
He shook his head against her lap. Not fully understanding, he tried to reassure her. “You don’t have to. We’ll have our meals in here and Julius can stay with you when…” His breathing hitched and he let the sentence go unfinished.
“No,” she said and forced his head from her lap. She cupped his face, the pads of her thumb caressing his cheeks as she made him look at her. “I don’t want to know them…the people who’ll be watching us. I don’t want to know their names, or who they are or where they’re from, before or…after. Promise me.”
Slowly Kean understood what Aideen was saying and he nodded. He blinked, hot tears spilling onto the strong cheekbones. She dipped her head, her tongue snaking out to catch a tear before kissing the next one away.
Chapter Fourteen
Kean’s suite within Claubine’s estate house was comprised of a bedroom, bath and study. Entry into the bedroom from inside the house was through the study’s double doors. Those study doors were partially open as Aideen sat on Kean’s bed and flipped through the TV channels. She kept the volume low, not only because Kean had to consult with a stream of worried visitors in the study but also because Aideen could feel his anxiety level spike if he couldn’t hear her. Those levels
spiked even higher if he couldn’t lean forward occasionally from where he was talking with someone and catch a glimpse of her foot or some other visible sign she was still in the room instead of slung over the back of one of Meyrick’s thugs.
Among the many channels, Aideen was most interested in the news broadcasts. After the first few hours, she realized she was hoping to catch some hint of the Bloodstone on the news—as if it would leave a trail of signs to aid her in finding it. Worse yet was the possibility that Meyrick’s attempt to use the Bloodstone might make its way on to the news in the form of a dragon or some other fanciful creature sailing from a cloud. She knew that by the time anything showed up on the news, it would be too late, but the urge to channel surf was unconquerable.
And she certainly couldn’t join Kean in the study. The curious looks of the visitors and the naked hope that flashed across their faces were unbearable. And what had they to be hopeful for? Even if the ceremony worked, there was little chance Meyrick would keep the Bloodstone in one location. And, if he did, she couldn’t see anyone from the temple storming in to retrieve the damn thing. Kean was alone in his spy-like abilities. Hell, she thought and ran through five more channels, from what she had seen through the crack in the door and yesterday’s lawn supper, the temple’s membership had been reduced to a few rich senior citizens who had nothing better to do.
Aideen heard the brush of the door against the carpeting and looked up to find Kean watching her. She switched the TV off and smiled at him. “Safe for now. No sign on the telly that the world will end anytime soon.”
Kean stepped into the room and pulled the study’s doors shut behind him. He sat on the center edge of the bed, his back to her, half looking at her, half looking away as he spoke. “Claubine will be up in a few minutes.”
Aideen’s gaze darted to the clock. 10 p.m. already! She felt nausea swirling in her stomach.
Kean reached out and covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to,” he repeated.
“So nice of you to be ready to fuck someone else,” she answered dryly and switched the TV back on.
Kean’s hand returned to his lap to dangle uselessly between his legs. After a few seconds, he stood and returned to the study. Aideen watched his retreating back from the corner of her eye. Damn, she wished he would cave in. The ceremony wasn’t going to work and he was blackmailing her, even if he didn’t mean to.
Aideen was still furiously flipping through the channels when Claubine and Vera came into the bedroom five minutes later. Aideen stiffened at the sight of Vera, but the woman was there only to collect a few of the things Kean would need for the ceremony. Vera quickly bundled the robe and chasuble and left the room, her spine ramrod straight. On her way out, she brushed past Julius, who closed the door, leaving Aideen and Claubine alone.
“She’s going to dress him?” Aideen inquired with a false lightness.
Claubine nodded and handed Aideen two vials and a bar of rough, scented soap. She pointed to the larger vial. “Rub that all over before you shower and be careful not to slip. And that,” she said and motioned to the second vial, “put in your robe pocket for the ceremony.”
“What’s its purpose?” Aideen asked.
A wry cackle erupted from Claubine. “Lubrication, dear, pure and simple,” she explained. “No matter how much you want him before or after the ceremony…your body’s bound to get stage fright.”
Her curiosity satisfied, Aideen’s attention drifted back to Kean’s preparations. “If I weren’t here—” she began but Claubine chopped a dismissive hand in the air.
“It’s not like that, at least not between them,” Claubine answered. “Maybe after a time…your parents certainly took their time warming up to one another.” She caught Aideen’s sharp glance but shrugged and continued. “Simple truth. But Kean wasn’t meant for Vera, nor she for him. Probably why the goddess never visited them.”
Aideen thought about the woman she was replacing in tonight’s ceremony. Dry, like black sand, with a viper’s eyes. And a pale tongue that flicked the air when she was deep in thought. Aideen shuddered as she walked into the bathroom to shower and the image fell away. She uncapped the larger vial and began rubbing the oil over her, the piney scent of lilac rising from her body. Her mind drifted back to the bathroom of her small shop in Dublin and how she had performed a similar ritual to prepare for the journey to Cenn. Those preparations hadn’t been a cold chore like the one now. She closed her eyes and let her fingers play over her nipples but they remained unresponsive. Christ, she thought, it wasn’t as if she didn’t want Kean. Just not in front of a masked group, half of which would probably retreat to some spare room after the ceremony to masturbate.
Finished with the lilac oil, she stepped into the tub and turned the showerhead on. The soap was another concoction of flowers, their fibers scouring away the lilac oil she had just coated herself in. Lilac oil slickened the tub’s floor and Aideen finished rinsing off, careful to heed Claubine’s warning. She towel-dried her hair and let the water on her skin evaporate. The robe was similar to the one she had borrowed on Inish Oirr. Its color was the same deep red with gold embroidery. She slipped the second vial into the small inside pocket and opened the door for Claubine’s inspection.
Claubine had a brush in hand and after walking a slow circle around Aideen, she began to smooth the tangles from Aideen’s damp hair. “If you forget anything,” she said. “Just look at me.”
Aideen nodded. Weak-kneed, she felt too shaky to try to say anything. She looked at the clock. 11:15 p.m. The initial pageantry was timed to end a few minutes before midnight, at which point she and Kean would, she thought derisively, drop robe.
Claubine put the brush down and hooked Aideen’s arm. “Time to go, child.”
Julius was waiting for them in the study and he took Aideen from the old woman. He held his arm slightly away from his body, his palm facing upward. Aideen covered his hand with her own, his touch a cold relief. He led her down the hallway to the staircase. Even before they left the study, Aideen could hear the low hum of the women who waited on the staircase. Their voices filled her until she began to vibrate with their rhythm. Her heartbeat slowed and she moved down the staircase as if she were swimming in deep waters.
From the staircase, Julius led her into what had once been a grand ballroom. Its crystal chandelier, massive in size, still hung from the ceiling. Candles interlaced the faceted stones, their joined brilliance dancing across the room. Behind Julius and Aideen, the women followed and took their place beside a male. The men, too, were softly chanting, their deeper voices lengthening the rhythm. Across the ballroom floor, Kean was moving toward her, similarly led by Vera. They met in the center where an altar of semi-rigid cushions and soft pillows had been constructed. Aideen knelt before the altar, her left hand still resting lightly atop Julius’s upturned palm. Her right hand, the little vial in front of it, she put palm upward on a cushion, where Kean covered it.
The chanting stopped and Kean’s voice filled the ballroom with its rich baritone. “I am a ray of sunlight.”
Aideen answered in her pure soprano. “I am the greenest of plants.”
“I am a salmon in the river,” he countered. His hand grew warm atop hers and she felt the heat spread up her arm.
“I am the river that cuts through the plain,” she answered and offered in return. “I am the wind that blows across the sea.”
“I am the hawk on the cliff at the edge of your sea.” His voice grew richer, its volume pressing against Aideen and making her lightheaded. “I am the stag of seven battles.”
On her left, Julius pulled his hand from hers and moved behind her to strip the robe from her body. She broke contact with Kean for a second and both of their robes fell to the floor.
“I am the wave of the deep,” she said, her voice edged in naked power. “I am the word of knowledge, the lure beyond the ends of the earth.”
Kean’s breathing grew erratic and she could hear the pulse of his blood
in his voice. His bare hip brushed her waist and she leaned against him, her own breath breaking into ragged pants. Both of his hands found her hips and he slid her onto the altar bed. He opened the vial, the scent of lilies filling the air. He took a fingertip of oil and touched it to her left nipple. He repeated the motion with her other breast, her nipples sharp stones. A third dip of the vial, heavier than the other two, and he caressed her clit before sliding his slickened fingers into her canal. “I am a wild boar, I am the point of a spear,” he said.
“I am the wound,” she said, her legs spreading in invitation.
“I can shift my shape like a god,” he finished, his rod poised at the moist entrance of her sex.
Aideen lifted her hips, the tip of his cock easing into her as she spoke the final words of the invocation. “I am the goddess incarnate.”
Kean entered her, driving the length of his shaft into her in one swift motion. She felt her cells exploding, another presence leaking in to fill the void. Red shaded her vision, her sight blurring until the man hovering above her, pumping her body while he serenaded her with unearthly notes of exquisite beauty, was no longer recognizable as Kean.
Aideen turned her gaze inward, searching for herself and finding another. Her own voice took on an ethereal quality as she embraced the newcomer.
Thank you, daughter, the woman smiled. She danced in flame, her body slick with sweat. The fire took form, rising like a snake to insert itself in the woman. She arched her back and strong arms reached around her waist to steady her. Legs shot up, powerful thighs melding to a firm ass and broad back. The woman wrapped her legs around her lover’s waist and softly breathed his name. Myr.
Aideen looked past the veil of passion to see Kean above her, his body locked in the lovers’ rhythm as his cocked swelled to fill her, to push against her quivering muscles that contracted around his thickness in a delighted torment. She lifted her ass off the cushions and pumped him more deeply into her.
