Page 15 of Eternally Theirs

“Ah, yes,” Ever whispered as the images flooded his mind.

Deo on a beach with two others, beautiful young men, like him. He could smell the ocean and the scent of male come. He could taste it in Deo’s mouth as one of the men pushed his cock between his lips. The other man had Deo on his hands and knees as he pushed into his ass. Everything merged—reality and memory—sensations coming from every direction.

The image changed, and it was Deo with Mercy, the two of them fucking against an old plaster wall, the animal lust of the immortals making their fucking a primal thing as pleasure devoured them both.

That same primal pleasure ran through him in a long shiver, like a serpent in his veins. His hips slammed into Mercy, his cock plunging deep into her hot pussy. Deo’s cock was ramming into his ass, pushing sensation deeper, deeper.

Mercy came first, her cries echoing in the room, her pulsing sex gripping his cock.

“God, Ever! Yes, harder.”

Her orgasm drove his own pleasure on, higher, higher. Deo was fucking him so hard, so deep, his cock pounding into him, if Ever had been mortal he would have been torn apart.

“Harder, Deo,” he urged, needing the pain, needing to feel as deeply as possible. “Harder!”

Deo thrust, hammering into him. He felt the pull of Deo’s mouth as he drank his blood. And as they came together, sensation hot and liquid, drowning him, making his body limp in Deo’s strong, young arms, his mind was once more filled with images. He caught the scents of old stone, damp pavement, the morning sunlight beginning to dry the rain from the night before. This time it was Deo as a boy, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, and a tall man who looked very much like him holding on to his shoulder tightly as they made their way down a narrow alley. They reached a wooden door, and a woman with Deo’s blue-green eyes and soft, lovely features opened it. On her hip was a small boy who looked like Deo. The same dark curls, the same stunning eyes.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it,” the woman said, worry lacing her voice.

“We have to go now,” the man’s tone was tight. “We may be too late already.”

The woman nodded. “I gathered some of our things.”

A sudden roar made them all draw together, and the small boy began to cry. Ever felt Deo’s heart racing, fear heavy in his chest.

“There’s no time,” the man said.

He grabbed the boy from her, took her arm, and together they ran into the streets. People everywhere. Smoke that made his lungs burn. His mother pressed close, her hand in his.

“Deo,” she said urgently, “if anything happens, take your brother far away from here. Keep him safe.”

“Yes, Màna.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise.”

Deo looked up, saw her eyes glistening with tears.

“We’ll be fine,” his father said. But Deo heard the doubt in his voice.

They began to run, the crowd surging, pressing into them. There wasn’t enough air, but he kept running, his mother’s hand in his. Deo could feel her bones beneath her flesh, she held on so tightly.

They rounded a corner into a wall of fire.

Another roar, this one so loud he felt it in his belly. The ground shook. His mother’s hand slipped from his.

“Màna!”

The acrid scent of smoke and flesh. Ash and blood everywhere. Screams filled the air. Desperation.

He was alone.

Ever blinked, his heart twisting in his chest.

He shifted, turned to Deo, kissed his cheek, his mouth. Deo was quiet, letting him do what he wanted.

Mercy was shivering, her body against Ever’s back, her cheek resting there. He felt her tears on his skin.

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