Chapter 7 #5
But he did in the Dark Realms, and he told me that I wasn't ugly. He liked the way I looked, despite the scars.
Emboldened, I move forward again.
'I…' I begin quietly, not sure what to say or how to proceed.
Perhaps I should just ask. 'I would like you to…'
I swallow hard as he stares at me and tilts his head to the side.
'What is it, Bryn?' he asks. 'What is it that you need?'
I gaze up into his eyes and sigh.
'You,' I say.
His expression changes, eyes darkening as they take me in.
'Me?' he asks.
The blade in his hand clatters to the table and he stands in one swift motion. He stalks across the room like a predator, reminding me of when we were in Merediea, and he fucked me into the bed after beating Locke senseless.
He’s large. Strong. Dangerous when he wants to be, and it makes my knees feel weak.
He looms over me in a way that I like. I stare up at him, and then away, scared suddenly that this might be some game to him. But he takes hold of my chin and raises my face to stare into my eyes, caressing the side of my neck slightly.
'Is it that you need?' he asks meaningfully. 'Or that you want?'
I know what he's asking. Am I having another one of these odd attacks that plague me?
‘Does it matter?’ I whisper.
‘Whether you need it, or want it, I’ll fuck you well regardless,’ he promises a bit ominously, and my breathing hitches. ‘But it does matter to me, Bryn.’
'Want,' I whisper.
'I see.'
I close my eyes, afraid he’ll tell me to go to my room now and rest, but then my eyes fly open as his lips press against mine.
'My chamber,' he rumbles low, taking me by the hand and leading me up the stairs.
As soon as I’m inside, he closes the door and throws the bolt quietly.
'I want to see you,' he says, watching me closely.
My shaking fingers fumble with the shirt’s buttons, so much so that I can't get them undone. He steps forward, bats my hands away, and unclasps each one slowly himself.
My legs shake with anticipation.
'Are you sure you want this?' he asks.
I nod jerkily, desperately.
'Do you forgive me?' he asks, touching my cheek, running his fingers down my face.
I bite my lip. If I say no, will he stop?
'I don't know,' I say truthfully, and squeeze my eyes shut because I'm afraid that he's going to tell me to leave, that we have to wait because of some silly desire on his part to be chivalrous or some such nonsense.
But he doesn’t. He pulls me to the bed, and he sits down, drawing me between his spread legs. He pushes the shirt off my shoulders, letting it slide to the floor, leaving me bare before him.
Still fully clothed, his eyes heat as they move over me, lingering on my chest. He takes my breasts in his hands, weighing them, and then caresses lightly down my body reverently.
'I don't deserve this,' he says quietly.
I roll my eyes at him and let him see it.
'Don't be foolish,' I say. 'If you're having reservations, consider this part of my price.'
'Price?' he asks, raising a brow.
'For my forgiveness,' I say, my lips quirking upward. 'Perhaps I require pleasure to truly absolve you.'
‘If that’s so, female,’ he drawls, ‘then I will give you pleasure whenever and wherever you desire it.’
My eyes widen at his dark pledge.
How am I so bold tonight? I'm not sure. I've never been like this before. But I’ve also never known anyone like Morgan, either.
He draws me closer and has me straddle him as he sits on the edge of the bed. I unbuckle his belt and let it thud to the floor. I take off his tunic for him as he holds me, and he shrugs out of it, pulling his undershirt over his head in one swift motion.
My hands run over his chest, and I’m struck by the corded muscle, the slight gray sheen to his flesh.
I lean forward and lick one nipple, pierced with gold, and I feel his breath stutter.
I look up with an impish grin, and bite him there.
That has him chuckling and throwing me down on my back on the bed.
He takes off the rest of his clothes quickly and joins me, but he doesn't begin.
I want him to begin.
Instead, he takes hold of my thighs, hauling me down the bed closer to him and widening my knees before pressing his face between my legs and lapping at my cunt.
I put my fist in my mouth, squealing at the sudden invasion of his tongue, not wanting the others to hear, and yet half-desiring Jak to join us, half-wishing that Locke is tormented by the knowledge that Morgan can have me and he can't. At least, not tonight.
I moan as I feel pleasure coming upon me quickly. Morgan seems to know this as well because he looks up and smiles at me wickedly as he renews his efforts.
I writhe beneath his head, dislodging him, and he lets out a growl of annoyance, his arms locking around my thighs to keep me completely still under him.
'Hush, my pretty little human,' he says against my flesh. 'Let me give you what you desire.’
I shiver at his words, that he calls me his, though I wonder if perhaps I shouldn't like that now. I'm a free woman, after all. I’m no one’s. And yet hearing him say these things brings me a joy I have never known. It's puzzling. The lines that used to be so sharp are blurring.
He glances up at me as if sensing that my mind is not where it should be, and he tuts, driving two of his thick fingers into me, making me gasp and my back arch, bringing my mind right back into the present.
His fingers fuck me, hard and unyielding, but just when I'm about to find my release, he stops.
I scowl up at him, even letting out a small growl of discontent.
'Why did you stop?' I demand to know, but all he does is smile and shift up the bed, notching his large cock between my thighs.
I stare at it, at the many gold pieces that adorn it, the ones that I’ve felt before.
I lock my legs around him and see his surprise.
But he gives me what I crave, impaling me deeply, and I let out a groan so loud that I know the others must hear it. They're only in the next room, after all.
I hear movement. Something falls. And I imagine their ears pressed against the wall, straining to hear.
My grin is wild. I should give them a show.
Morgan sets that punishing pace that he seems to enjoy, and the bed rocks against the wall in a rhythm that makes it impossible not to know what's happening in this room.
I let the loud moans and whimpers I can’t help infuse the air around us, beyond us.
His fingers find my mouth and push between my lips.
'Taste yourself,' he growls. 'Taste the sweetness that I enjoy.'
His words are enough to make me find my pleasure, and my release is hard, everything I wanted, as he fills me with his thick, hard staff. He comes, joining me at almost the same instant, and I bask in the knowledge that we're together in this moment.
I grip onto his massive arms, gasping and writhing as his seed is driven deeply into me.
Afterward, he climbs from the bed and I feel the absence of his warmth keenly.
He grabs a cloth from the ewer on the table nearby, holds it in front of the hearth to warm for a moment on the glowing embers, and then comes back to the bed and removes the evidence of himself from between my legs. I let him, staring up at the rafters of the ceiling in a sated haze.
'You're very good at that, you know.' I say quietly.
He smirks at me. 'I am.'
I chuckle at his arrogance. 'You could be a bit more modest.'
He shrugs. 'Why? I aim to be very good at pleasuring my female. I rejoice in my success.'
He puts the cloth back and I wonder if I should leave.
I don’t want to outstay my welcome, though he did just call me his.
But he comes back to the bed and draws down the coverlet, beckoning me to lie with him.
I do because, if I'm honest with myself, I‘ve felt very alone in that room downstairs every night. I’ve rarely ever slept completely by myself.
He turns me so that my back is to him and puts his arms round me.
'Sleep, Bryn,' he says, kissing my temple. 'I'll be here in the morning when you wake up.'
I let out a contented sigh and I close my eyes. I don't trust him completely, not yet, but things are changing. I can see a time when I could put my faith in him.
I'm back in the white room, but this dream is different from the ones I’ve been having since I came to the Light. The man in the robes isn't happy this time. I don't think he's angry with me, more worried. He's pacing.
I sit in a child's seat at the little table.
I'm writing now. I must be older, I think, and I can read all the words on the parchment in front of me.
A story that I'm writing, or that I'm copying from a book, perhaps.
I'm not sure, but I can see my name, and I recognize it. I could write it now if I wanted to.
I think the man is speaking to someone I can't see. His hands are flailing. He keeps looking back at me. He's afraid. Definitely afraid.
The room melts away and I'm back in the darkened corridors of the ether.
But this time, there is no portal to walk toward. I'm not in between worlds. I'm lost there.
I walk through nothingness, knowing I should be panicking and yet I feel nothing at all, and then the screaming starts again. It’s far away this time. The whispers whirl around me. I can't see who they’re coming from, or what.
‘Remember, Bryn,’ they say. ‘Remember. Remember.’
‘Remember what?’ I scream. ‘There's nothing to remember.’
And then I see the figure, the man who I believe must be a relation. He's got his back to me. I slowly walk towards him, and when I get to him, I put my hand on his shoulder, and when he turns, his eyes widen.
‘Bryn?’
I wake with a shriek. My cheeks are wet.
Next to me, Morgan cuddles me tighter.
'It was just a dream. It was just a dream.'
I'm shaking, I realize. My breaths are hard and shuddering.
'What was it?' he asks. 'A dream of the Dark Realms?'
'Yes,' I lie, not saying any more, closing my eyes and pressing myself into his body.
His arms envelop me tightly, and, feeling the safety I’ve missed so much, I find slumber once more.
JAK
It's been days since we returned to the Light Realm.