Beyond the Gates of Evermoore

She cooed softly in the warm realm of the loft, until the strength and ferocity of her lover’s ceaseless pounding finally triggered her orgasm. Melody screamed murderously as she came, screwing so hard against his thrusting abdomen that Lucus had no choice but to hold her body absolutely still. This allowed her full control, to rub and grind at her clit with precisely the right amount of pressure as he remained buried to the hilt inside her. She bucked hard, shuddering through the violent throes of an earth-shattering climax, all while reaching back to claw the smith’s ass hard against her body with pointed, painted fingertips.

When she was finished Melody basically let go of every remaining inhibition, falling orgasmically limp beneath his onslaught. Mercifully he didn’t last long, his rough hands palming the soft globes of her delectable ass as he exploded inside her from behind.

Eventually he rolled off of her, dribbling a long pearlescent stream of his creamy white seed. She was packed absolutely full of it, stretched out on her belly in the makeshift bedroll as it leaked from her well-fucked pussy and onto the linens beneath.

“Jesus Christ, Lucus,” she panted as he dropped down beside her. Her legs still trembled, her body heaving with the exertion of being so throughly, utterly fucked.

The blacksmith said nothing, because there was nothing to really say. He only propped himself up on one elbow and grinned.

23

Melody slept like the dead.

It was a deep, dreamless, restorative sleep. One made perfect by the nearness of Lucus’s robust body, his strong arms and legs wrapped around her in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

She stirred only when he began moving, sliding between her legs and nudging her thighs apart in the wee hours before dawn. He took her a second time, thrusting inside her as the sky was barely cracked with a strange yellow glow.

It was hot, sleepy sex. Melody moaned, welcoming him in. She enjoyed the feeling of being pressed down into the soft straw, of his full lips burying themselves into her neck as he nibbled, bit, and nuzzled against her. Down below, he was achingly deep inside her. She responded only by gyrating her hips. Thrusting up into her lover in order to give him every last inch of her depths.

When he came it felt like a rocket going off inside her. Melody could feel him throbbing deeply, pumping jet after jet of his warm come against her innermost of places. She rolled over after that, and he held her again from behind. Drifted off to sleep while wrapped in his arms, all swollen and happy and contented.

She woke sometime later, and the blacksmith was gone.

There was no sign of where he went, or when he left. There was another dress laid out for her, very similar to the first one. Her underclothes had also been washed, draped over the small table nearby. She picked them up, expecting them to be damp. Already they were dry.

She made her way down from the loft, and through the main area of the carriage house. The doors were open. The manor itself was already bathed in full sunlight.

How long did he let me sleep?

She circled the carriage house and barn, making sure Lucus was gone. Then Melody headed down the path to the house. It was strange to think she’d almost lost her life on this path last night, while trying frantically to get away from the hunting dogs. Silently she thanked all the track coaches she’d ever had. And her parents, for giving her long legs.

Her mind spun, filled with all the crazy things Lucus had told her last night. The house. The mist. Eric…

Eric.

She no longer trusted her would-be companion, and not just because of what Lucus had said. Eric should’ve come looking for her. Should’ve broken into her room to rescue her… gone with her last night, to try and find the egg.

Instead he’d disappeared again, and she’d been left to fend for herself. Or maybe, like she theorized, Eric was trying to find the egg on his own.

Maybe it doesn’t matter, she thought. After all, getting the egg back to the Blackstone — and the Order — was the important part.

Does it really matter who brought it there?

Yes. Yes it does.

That was pride talking, and Melody damn well knew it. Still, pride wasn’t an easy thing to ignore. If she had to go back empty handed, only to learn that Eric had recovered the egg? She knew she’d look foolish. And he wouldn’t even be presenting it to Xiomara, either. He’d been sent here by someone else entirely. Someone named… what?

Aldwyn.

It was a name that was still only somewhat familiar. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he was at the Blackstone.

It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not Xiomara.

Barefoot and re-energized, she picked up speed. It vaguely occurred to her that she was famished. Halfway to the house however, all thoughts of food disappeared as she stopped in disbelief.

Everything about Evermoore Manor had changed.

Well, not really changed. Most of the house was the same as it always had been. But the shutters were different, and the porch had been entirely redone. The house was dirtier, more run down. There were patches in the wood, and places where things had been repaired or replaced. The windows were dirty, and the whole thing was in need of a serious coat of paint.