Page 21 of The Brothers Bane

“It is more than okay. In fact, I am grateful for it. The day I arrived and found you cradled by Typhon while Asterius fucked you, I wanted you so badly it hurt, but I didn’t want our first time making love to be in front of an audience. You areeverythingto me, Nemea. I accept that you are not only mine, but I need to show you how much I am yours the first time. And I need your full attention when I do.”

I slide my hands around his neck and gaze into his eyes, somehow faintly glowing in the darkness. “You have it now. How much farther do we have to walk?”

“As it happens, we’re here,” he says, taking my hand again and turning us toward a patch of utter darkness. He snaps his fingers once, and a spark lights the night, becoming a small orb of lightning floating above his fingertips. It illuminates an opening tucked between two large boulders canted against each other. Mounted into one is a bracket holding a lantern.

He lifts the globe of the lantern and touches the magical light to the wick. A small flame erupts, casting the end of the trail and the cave mouth in warm light and flickering shadow. The faint scent of minerals tickles my nostrils, and it grows stronger as Alcides leads me in, ducking his head to clear the low entrance.

The sound of trickling water grows louder, echoing off the stone walls when we pass through the low corridor into a larger cave. The main chamber is about half the size of the bunk house I slept in last night, the floor and walls worn smooth and flat, no doubt over centuries of use and alteration. The lantern light reflects off glistening condensation that covers the sandstone walls, as well as the dark, placid pool that takes up the center of the floor, faint tendrils of steam swirling up from the surface.

Alcides moves farther in, lighting other lanterns mounted on the walls from the one he carries. The bathing chamber, now awash in the soft glow of lantern light, looks like something out of a dream. It’s both wild and serene, untouched by the modern world. And with this handsome, broad-shouldered man in his fur cloak with the club at his belt, I can almost pretend I’ve walked into some medieval fantasy.

The surety with which he prepares the place is interrupted when he glances up midway through scattering lavender flowers across the water. He sees me watching him intently and his lashes flutter, gaze dropping to the water again as if I’ve caught him in some illicit thought. He clears his throat.

“The lavender is calming. We’ve both had a long day, but yours was no doubt more strenuous. The minerals in the water will help.”

“I hope you’re not trying to put me to sleep,” I joke, bending down to unlace my boots. I continue undressing and his focus fixes more deliberately on the water and his preparations for our bath.

“I only want you to be comfortable,” he says.

He turns away, checking the nearby shelf for fresh towels, which were there when we arrived and haven’t budged. Beside the shelves of linens is a large stone basin with several earthenware mugs lining a ledge above it, a ladle hanging off one end. He fills two with what I assume is fresh water, then sets them at the edge of the pool without looking at me.

My naked reflection catches his eye in the pool and he looks abruptly at the wall. I pad quietly around the edge to him and grip his wrist, making him turn to look at me.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing.”

When I raise my eyebrows at this, he chuckles. “Really, it isn’t fear. Not exactly. It’s just been a very long time since I was with a woman. An eternity, really.”

“Since Hippolyta?”

He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There were others after her, women I sought out to dull the pain the way I did with drink. But I haven’t had a woman or a drink since my labors ended and I pledged to serve Tartarus.”

“I imagine it’s like riding a bike,” I say. He frowns at that, and I laugh. “’You’ve never ridden a bike before, have you?”

Smirking, he shakes his head. “No, but I grasp your meaning. I had not ridden a horse for centuries until today when Ele gave me a tour of the property, but it was easy to remember. Muscle memory, I think it’s called.”

I reach up and tug at the sturdy iron clasp that holds the fur cloak to his shoulders. It slides off and falls to the floor.

“Well, the steps here are easy, but I’m happy to help.”

His shirt is a simple linen tunic with laces across his chest. They’re already untied, so it makes it easy to simply pull the hem up. He takes over, pulling it off over his head. His bare chest beckons, and I rest my hands against the hard planes of his pecs, then slide them down his stomach. He’s smooth and hairless until I unfasten his pants to reveal a light line of hair extending from his navel down. The soft fringe above his cock tickles my knuckles when I push his open fly apart. He has nothing beneath but bare skin and his half-hard cock nestled in dark curls.

“I think you forgot something,” he says in a low voice tinged with humor. When his pants fall down to his ankles I drop my gaze, realizing his leather boots are still on his feet.

I glance up at his face with a smile. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I enjoy everything about being with you.”

Lowering to my knees, I look up his torso, then at his hardening cock. My nipples tingle at this game, so different from the others, yet every bit as exciting. His cock is beautiful, thick and long with delicate veins patterning its surface and a pale pink foreskin only barely concealing a darkened tip. It curves like a bow toward the ceiling, the weight of it making it drop so it almost brushes my forehead as I move to finish undressing him.

I swiftly unlace his boots and help him step out of them and his pants. But I don’t rise right away.

“Can I touch you?” I ask, feeling oddly reverent toward this man, this demigod, standing above me. I gently place my hands on his hard thighs, sliding them up to his hips.

“It looks to me like you already are.” His voice is a low purr that seeps its way down deep, making my insides quiver.

With a tentative touch, I trace the heavy ridge of muscle that spans either hip, pointing down to his groin. I glide my fingers down into the curls that surround his cock. It kicks in front of me, a reflexive spasm in response to my touch.

---