“Our travels across Loegria were years ago. Some of those details are sure to fade with time.”
“True.” Trystan rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “I’ve not been sleeping well either. I’m not sure why, but sleep has eluded me since I last touched the sword.”
“You have been restless during the nights as of late.”
Myrddin shifted sideways to face Trystan. He splayed his hand over Trystan’s belly before slipping it downward to his groin. Trystan’s member stiffened under Myrddin’s touch. Myrddin nipped at his ear with his teeth as he took Trystan’s dick in his hand and stroked slowly, pulling a soft moan from Trystan’s throat.
Myrddin knelt between Trystan’s thighs and took him into his mouth. Trystan’s stomach muscles tensed at the sudden pleasure and wet warmth surrounding his manhood. He threaded his fingers through Myrddin’s dark hair as he pulled off and swirled his tongue over Trystan’s weeping tip.
Standing, Myrddin eased Trystan onto his back, spreading the copious moisture leaking from his slit over his own erect member. As he understood it, male guardians produced far more excessive amounts of natural lubrication than human men did—something he once found annoying but for which he was now entirely grateful.
Slicked and hard, Myrddin ached to be inside Trystan. Nothing he’d ever experienced amounted to as much content pleasure as burying his cock deep inside Trystan’s heat, having Trystan writhe and moan uncontrollably, and filling him with his seed.
Myrddin lowered himself over Trystan, rubbing his shaft alongside Trystan’s.
Another needy moan fell out of Trystan. His own cock hard, Trystan arched his back, rocking against Myrddin. “In me now.”
Myrddin lifted Trystan’s legs and the bulbous tip of his shaft slid over Trystan’s crevice until it found his hole. He pressed in, easing past the ring of muscle and buried himself deep inside Trystan until he could go no farther.
Trystan reached for his swollen member only to have Myrddin bat his hand away.
“Leave that to me.” Myrddin wrapped his hand around Trystan. He slid his hand up and down, stroking Trystan’s slick cock with increasing speed.
Trystan whimpered, his breaths turning to short pants. Myrddin gripped Trystan’s hip tighter, his fingers digging into the skin as he fucked and stroked Trystan. The air grew heady and warm, the scent of sex and sweat filling the small room.
Pleasure coursed through Trystan’s body with growing intensity, jumping from one nerve to the next and leaving a tingling path of heat and desire in its wake. His earlier concerns forgotten, Trystan took over stroking himself as Myrddin hooked his arms and hands around the crease of his thighs and hips and thrust harder into him. Sweat-dampened, sex-slicked skin slapped and smacked as Myrddin pounded harder.
Myrddin drove in hard, his groans and grunts laden with determination and desire. He loved the sounds Trystan made as they fucked. He loved the way Trystan’s tunnel squeezed around him. He loved watching him fall apart as the euphoria from his release swept through his body.
A frenzy of butterflies swarmed Trystan’s veins. His body hummed and tingled. His core tightened. His erection swelled larger, slick in his palm. Panting harder, dizzy with excitement, Trystan clutched the bed linens so tight, his fingers started to cramp.
“So close.” Trystan’s whisper was strained, his impending release coiling tighter, nearly ready to snap. His muscles trembled. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples. He was on the precipice of complete and utter joy.
The sudden burst of ecstasy ripped an uninhibited, hoarse cry from Trystan’s throat. A few heartbeats later, Myrddin followed him, stilling inside him as his warm seed filled his tunnel, unable to escape around Myrddin’s thick member.
Myrddin pulled out and rolled off Trystan then pulled him into his arms. Sated and tired, enveloped in the warm embrace of the man he’d always loved, Trystan blinked a couple times before his eyes failed to open again.
***
Trystan perched on a large, flat boulder partially sunken into the green, grassy hillside, a knife and small chunk of wood in his hand. His gaze fixed on Emma as she tiptoed barefoot in the creek with a short spear in one hand, attempting to catch a fish or two. Artemis snapped at the water on occasion as if trying to catch one also. He didn’t imagine that wolf would ever leave her side.
The piece of oak was beginning to take shape. Its rough contours would soon be smoothed and then Trystan would begin to carve the details of a winged dragon. Trystan had always found a sense of peace when working with wood, and he’d taken to doing more of it lately to unburden his mind of his lost memories and the whispered voices it seemed only he could hear.
He’d experienced another occurrence this morning. Myrddin had left his bow on the table and when Trystan had gone to move it, a soft white light had flickered around it before vanishing, followed again by a voice whispering,Wake up, Trystan.
Day turned to night, and Trystan fell asleep in Myrddin’s embrace.
***
You must wake up, Trystan. Find the blood of Arthur and wipe it over Excalibur’s blade. Only then, will you have what you seek and can escape the dark magic that surrounds the ancient ruins.
Trystan woke with a start, his breathing hard and fast. Sweat misted on his brow. He pushed himself up to sit, heart thundering in his chest.
“Blood of Arthur,” he whispered. Trystan blinked and glanced around him. Myrddin lay fast asleep beside him. Trystan raked both hands over his head and through his hair. Circle of stones. Ancient ruins. Dark magic.
“Stonehenge.”
The moment he uttered the word, all his memories became clear, and this place, as content as he’d felt, it wasn’t real. It was all part of the illusion meant to give anyone who entered everything they desired, and trap those with evil in their hearts.
