by Hettie Ivers
“But first, we’re going to heal you,” Alcaeus informed me in an authoritative tone that allowed no refusal.
***
My experience with the opposite sex was limited to kissing and minor groping. Nothing I’d done with the handful of high school boys I’d fooled around with could’ve prepared me for the overwhelming sensations Remy and Alcaeus stirred in me as their dual seduction catapulted my senses into a state of overload.
Remy’s tongue laved my neck as his fingers traced slow circles across my midsection beneath my tank top. Alcaeus shifted his body lower and commenced kissing and licking at the scrapes and minor contusions surrounding and covering my knees, prompting an uncontrolled fluttering of nerves to ignite in my lower belly.
It should have disgusted me—the fact that a stranger was licking my wounds; but the way Alcaeus did it with such besotted enthusiasm was inexplicably arousing, and I soon found myself emitting peculiar mewling noises and panting for air in a rather unsophisticated, embarrassing fashion.
Tingles spread through me wherever they both touched me. My brain all but shut down. Perversely, the fact that I still had to pee seemed to intensify the delicious throbbing sensation awakening in my sex as I contracted my Kegel muscles.
Remy’s mouth diligently lapped, kissed, and sucked its way over every inch of skin covering my neck and jawline, while his palm and fingers warmed and caressed my stomach in a proprietary manner my malfunctioning brain found foolishly soothing.
Alcaeus’ hands trailed up and down the length of my bare legs as his mouth tended to my now-trembling knees. His short growth of facial hair tickled my skin as he swirled his long, somewhat rough-textured tongue over me in a manner that made me want to scrape my knees every day.
Groaning and muttering expletives, Alcaeus went on and on about how “fuucking good” I smelled, before proceeding to whisper things in Portuguese that I suspected could only be scandalously licentious in content.
I could scarcely rationalize this entire night much less fathom an explanation for their fixation with smelling me or their bizarre determination to literally lick my wounds. And as depraved the notion of two men touching me at once was to my Catholic schoolgirl sensibilities, strangely, I felt no sense of immediate threat or panic. Instead, I was overcome by an irrational, innate drive to relax and trust them.
Perhaps it was the measured, practiced way they were handling me that was reassuring. There was none of the aggressive, impatient underlying energy I’d sensed during the few encounters I’d had with boys my own age.
I should’ve been alarmed at the sensation of four large, male hands roaming my body, two mouths intimately exploring me. Yet their touch remained deliberate and restrained. They made no attempt to fondle my breasts, and never once did caressing fingertips venture too close to the pressing ache unfurling between my thighs.
Remy and Alcaeus both seemed completely in control of themselves. And somehow their firmly held self-control spawned the inverse reaction in me, prompting me to cast my self-restraint and better judgment aside.
My fingers wound their way into Remy’s hair, clutching and pulling at the roots in an artless, mindless attempt to draw his mouth, which was blazing a path along my jawline, to my lips. Like Alcaeus, Remy had also begun crooning to me in another language. I decided it was French.
When Remy at last acceded to my silent, tugging pleas and lifted his face to mine, I tilted my head, wantonly angling for his lips.
I closed my eyes and felt the heat of Remy’s lips. Sweet breath laced with the scent of brandy teased my mouth, just as Alcaeus latched onto a particularly sensitive expanse of skin on my inner thigh above my right knee. Oh. My God.
Remy’s kiss never came, though—at least not to my lips. His nose traced up and over my hairline as his lips ghosted back and forth across my forehead, then brushed over my eyelids. His lips were so soft as they branded my skin, sensing and learning each feature, every angle and contour of my face.
Caught up in the anticipation of his kiss, I found myself shamelessly re-slanting and re-tipping my head expectantly to him again and again, as he strung me along with each tantalizing, brief press of his lips. I was so distracted I hardly noticed it when my head began to buzz with a dull ache and my thoughts grew hazy and erratic.
Then a tingling sensation ran down the back of my neck, traveled along the length of my spine, and coursed out in all directions. I felt warmth embrace my midsection, first tickling up and down, then shooting back and forth across my lower ribs.
It was a wholly unnatural sensation, as if my very bones were being caressed and stroked from the inside. As good as it felt, it was abnormal enough to give me pause.
It became increasingly difficult to ponder this odd phenomenon, though, as I started losing grasp of my own train of thought. It was almost as if my thoughts were being guided—or redirected. And I had to focus harder and harder in order to hold onto them, to draw them back in from their stubborn divergence.
“Relax,” Alcaeus’ velvet bass commanded against my inner knee. “We’ve got you.” His tongue swirled higher up the inside of my thigh. “Let go, honey.”
It was so tempting to do as he suggested. I wanted to; but I couldn’t. Something was off, and I didn’t like it.
Apprehension twisted through me, and I soon lost track of and stopped caring where Remy’s lips were or weren’t touching me as it occurred to me that something sinister and untoward was happening inside of me.
“Stop,” Remy said. His lips grazed the corner of my mouth, momentarily drawing me back in. “Please?” He brushed those burning lips at long last back and forth against mine. “Everything’s okay. Promise.”
I wanted nothing more in the world in that moment than for Remy’s words to be true—especially when he commenced nibbling and sucking on my lower lip in the most erotic, sensual prelude to a kiss I’d ever imagined. But just as I felt on the verge of losing consciousness altogether, Felix’s bizarre, dire warning came back to me, urging me to fight harder against the strange force enveloping my mind.
“Christ, just fucking tongue her already!” Alcaeus groused impatiently at Remy, lifting his head from my legs.
“Milena, please,” Remy’s lips entreated against my own. “I promise you’re safe.”
But my hands that were fisted in his hair had already begun pulling and yanking at his roots again, only this time in an attempt to draw him away from me. Intuitively, I sensed he’d snuck deeper inside my head than the last time. I feared Alcaeus had as well. And I panicked.
Then it really started to hurt. I cried out as pain knifed through my head in multiple directions.
“Fuck, stop fighting it,” Alcaeus admonished. He had moved up from my knees and was disentangling my fists from Remy’s hair. “It doesn’t have to hurt like this.” He pinned my wrists above my head with one of his hands when I increased my struggling.
“Stop!” I wailed as the pain intensified. “Get out of my head!” I thrashed my head from side to side, as if the action alone might shake them from my mind.
Remy recaptured and immobilized my face between his hands. “Milena, listen to me.” He tilted my head so that I was forced to look into his iridescent green eyes inches above me. “Just let us heal your injuries, and then I promise you we’ll get out of your head.”
He looked so concerned, so sincere. Somehow it made the pain in my head worse—and this whole unholy scene that was unfolding that much more devastating to my psyche.
“No! Stop … just please, stop!”
Alcaeus protested that they wanted to heal me—they didn’t want to hurt me at all. But I shut my eyes and did my best to block out their words as I focused all of my energy and attention inward.
It felt like the worst migraine of my life times ten. I didn’t understand what I was doing or how I was able to fight against their intrusion; I only knew I couldn’t give up and give in to this unwelcome mind invasion. I zeroed in as best I could on the energy source behind
the worst of the pain and channeled all of my effort into pushing against it.
“Fuck. Fuck, she shouldn’t be able to do this!” Alcaeus exclaimed. “Something’s not right; this isn’t normal human resistance.”
“Told you.”
Encouraged by their reaction, I redoubled my efforts.
“Milena, stop it,” Remy demanded, his voice taking on that imperious quality he’d used before with the unseen woman Jussara.
I fought with everything I had then, and the resulting pain was positively blinding. It felt like my head had just caught fire from the inside. I screamed bloody murder, unable to help myself.
“ENOUGH!” Alcaeus bellowed in an even scarier commanding tone than the one Remy had used, sending shivers down my spine.
To my complete shock and ultimate gratitude, though, I realized he hadn’t directed the order at me, when my wrists were released and the pain in my head abruptly ceased. I opened my eyes in time to see Remy go flying from my side clear off the daybed.
While I caught my breath and tried to regain my composure, I gazed, astounded, up at Alcaeus, who was standing by the daybed to my right glowering murderously. A quick glance to my left across the room revealed a laughing Remy, the recipient of his ire.
Instead of being upset at having been tossed from the couch, Remy appeared amused as he picked himself up off the ground and dusted off his dress slacks.
“Really, now, Alcaeus? Since when are you such a pussy?”
“She has a head injury!”
Remy barked out a laugh. “Right, all the more reason we should force our way in and fix it, didn’t you say?”
Alcaeus scowled and pulled at the back of his thick neck. “Fuck, there’s something about her smell, all right?” He winced and made a disgusted face. “It’s growing on me more and more. And it’s bringing out this weird … overwhelming … protective instinct.” He looked apologetic. Perhaps, embarrassed?
All trace of humor fell from Remy’s face. “You are not taking her.”
“We can’t just hand her over to Alex.”
“Can’t hand who over to Alex?” a melodious female voice entered the room and the conversation.
Alcaeus stepped from my side to greet the female, affording me an unobstructed view of what had to be the most unquestionably gorgeous woman I’d ever seen in the flesh.
Attired in a long, black strapless evening gown that clung to her exquisite figure, she was tall and possessed all the curves that I was still hoping I’d grow into one day. A long slit up the side of her dress provided a glimpse of strong, shapely legs. The word statuesque sprang to mind. Glancing from the striking woman to Alcaeus beside her, I felt like I’d stumbled upon a beautiful people’s convention.
“Alessandra,” Alcaeus introduced, turning from her to extend an arm in my direction, “meet our fetching new friend that Felix hopes to trade to Alex in exchange for his son’s life. This is Raul’s little sister, Milena.”
I was still digesting the revelation about Felix’s son when Alessandra’s large eyes widened in surprise as they settled on my face for the first time.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, her tan skin appearing to turn a shade ashen as a frown marred her otherwise smooth, delicate features. “How?” She swallowed and shook her head minutely. “She looks like him.” She stated it as if it were a virtual impossibility, gazing upon me with genuine puzzlement. “She looks like Raul.”
“So we’ve noticed,” Remy said as he rejoined me on the daybed.
I was taken aback, in part because I’d never thought Raul and I looked that much alike. And because her reaction to my presence was so different from what everyone else’s had been thus far. I’d expected her to react more or less as they all had and grumble something about Raul and his family not being welcome in Alex’s house.
I attempted to sit up and pull myself together into some semblance of dignity as she approached. I felt awkward and self-conscious enough as it was under the intense scrutiny of such a stunning, elegant woman. The pain in my ribs returned as I tried to lift myself upright, although it didn’t seem as bad as it had felt before. The aching in my head, however, felt far worse.
Remy was quick to assist me, positioning me so that my back leaned against his front, which helped to alleviate the pressure on my ribs that came with holding myself upright.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to my left ear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He draped his arm loosely around my waist, steadying me against him.
I had no response. I was too confused and emotionally spent, my energy drained from the fight I’d just put forth against them.
Alessandra stalked closer to the daybed, her eyes searching my features with an odd mixture of sadness and confusion. And something else—a sort of wistfulness … or longing, perhaps? She had clearly known my brother, and I got the sense maybe he’d meant something to her.
“Well, shit, Lessa, she doesn’t look that much like him,” Alcaeus contested, breaking the awkward moment. “Fuck knows she smells better. Snap out of it and help her to the bathroom before the girl pisses herself.”
She plastered a strained smile on her face and smacked Alcaeus on the shoulder.
“Milena, this is Alessandra,” Remy introduced.
I smiled shyly and inclined my throbbing head in her direction. “Hi.”
“Hello, Milena,” she replied, then commented, “Wow, she does smell good.”
“You’ll need to carry her,” Remy said. “She’s got a few internal injuries we ah … haven’t gotten to yet.”
She squinted her eyes at him over my head, giving him a questioning look. Then her eyes widened as some sort of understanding seemed to dawn. “No?” she gasped in disbelief.
“Yes,” Remy confirmed.
“This is bad,” Alessandra assessed. “Very bad.”
“Fucking right it is,” Alcaeus concurred.
Heaven help me, I was lost. What was bad? This entire situation was all bad as far as I was concerned.
“Right, and speaking of which, how is Alex’s mood tonight?” Remy asked Alessandra. “We only chatted briefly this evening before I was called away to deal with Felix.”
“Not great. You know he hates these functions. He was wired and agitated all day today, and now he keeps complaining about a headache, of all outrageous things.”
I felt Remy stiffen behind me.
“Headache?” Alcaeus balked. “Alex?”
Alessandra waved an airy hand. “Who knows what’s up with him; he’s wound up is all.”
Alcaeus frowned. “I haven’t had a headache in over three centuries. He should have Kai check that out.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what was up with all the referencing of time in centuries. Was it some kind of quirky Brazilian thing?
Alessandra appeared to force another tentative smile as she came closer. Her eyes sought Remy’s again as she mumbled, “I just … I thought they weren’t blood related?”
“No,” Remy responded after a pause. “Neither did we.”
She nodded absently. “Why?” she exhaled the question to no one in particular.
“Well, probably ’cause Raul told us she was only his stepsister from Mateus’ brief marriage of convenience while he was stationed in the States,” Alcaeus pointed out impishly.
Stepsister? Raul had demoted me from a half-sibling to a step? He’d referred to our mother as a marriage of convenience for his dad? Mateus had never even been married to my mom!
“And if you’ll recall, he described her quite differently, too,” Alcaeus snarked.
Remy coughed. “Can’t say as I blame him for that one.”
“I can. He told me she was a redhead!” Alcaeus griped, as if it were somehow the ultimate personal affront and deception.
A redhead? Why would Raul make up such strange things?
“Painted her as a pasty, freckle-faced, bratty little cling-on teen stepsister he didn’t want anything to do with,” Alcaeus continued.
&nb
sp; “Enough, Al,” Remy cautioned.
It was such a stupid thing for me to feel embarrassed or hurt over, as obviously Raul had had good reason to shield me from this unusual lot of criminals he’d somehow gotten himself mixed up with; yet it smarted nonetheless, as I’d always feared he held me in far less regard than he ever let on. I’d often felt like a cling-on kid sister he was trying to avoid. Certainly, I’d never expected him to regard me with the same level of adulation and hero worship I’d always had for him, but I’d hoped to hold a place of importance in his heart.
Remy squeezed my shoulder. “He thought he was protecting you.”
“Protecting her?” Alcaeus scorned. “He was dumb enough to attempt to hide a blood relative from Alex, yet careless enough to let a reprobate like Felix find out?”
“Alcaeus—” Remy’s tone was a warning.
“C’mon, we all know Raul’s as good as dead. They caught up with him in Fortaleza over a week ago. If he’s not dead by now, he’s begging for it.”
“Alcaeus!”
I ceased breathing. My stomach dropped out of me.
“And rather than protect the kin he’s left behind,” Alcaeus persisted, “he’s done the opposite by ensuring Alex will be so blind with rage when he learns once again that Raul deceived him, he’ll want to snap her neck on sight.”
“She doesn’t need to hear it,” Remy reproached.
“Hear it?” Alcaeus scoffed. “She’s going to be staring down the fucking barrel of it just as soon as Alex finds time to squeeze a quadruple homicide in between the seventh course and cigars and brandy.”
“Shut up, Al!”
“You need to let me take her, Remy. I’m the only one in this house who can.”
“Boys, boys, stop it,” Alessandra admonished. “Remy, he’s right. We can’t protect her from Alex. The most we can do is try to dissuade him from exacting his usual familial revenge where she’s concerned.”
“She’s no threat to him; she’s only a kid,” Remy reasoned. “We just have to convince him—”
