Page 21 of The Tides of March

“Yes!” Tony’s fingers sifted through Ronan’s hair and twisted. “That’s it,” he said, his voice taking on a ragged edge.

“I can taste ye?” That was what Ronan’s merrow soul had yearned for, from the moment he first laid eyes on the beautiful Roman.

“Yes! Anything you want!”

“Oh, lad… Ye have no idea how badly I’ve wanted ye, how I’ve longed to taste this,” Ronan growled, nuzzling between the cheeks of Tony’s ass. He licked and Tony giggled as he twisted away.

“That tickles!” he said but he rolled back and braced his foot on the bed, next to Ronan’s shoulder. “Sorry. As you were.” His fingers swept through Ronan’s hair again, cindering what was left of the merrow’s control.

“Oh, lad.”

Until the end of his days, Ronan’s beard and the rest of his miserable face were reserved for Tony’s ass. For Ronan had never tasted anything sweeter and softer than Tony’s hole. Ronan lapped at the tender, flinching flesh, savoring every fold and every precious whimper.

And when he put his fingers in Tony… He was so hot and tight and the noises he made! He moaned and begged and made the most beautiful sounds Ronan had ever heard.

“That’s so good, Ronan! More!” Tony begged when Ronan slid a second finger into his ass. “I always use protection, always get tested. They tested me for everything when I was at Nox’s.”

Ronan gave his head a shake but didn’t stop, licking and sucking greedily as his fingers twisted in and out. “Don’ care.” He kissed and sucked at the taut skin and lapped at Tony’s sac as he made his way up. Ronan dragged his tongue along Tony’s shaft, slurping on the head and delighting at the crisp burst of pre-cum before taking him deep into his throat. Centuries of books and decades of pictures may have prepared Ronan for the mechanics of sex, but he was dazzled by the taste of Tony’s body and the sounds he made as he writhed on the bed.

“Oh, Ronan! Oh, oh, oh, oh!” he sang when Ronan slowly sucked on his cock. “Oh, Ronan! Ronan, yes!” His cries bounced off the cottage’s stone walls, echoing in Ronan’s heart. Theybrought tears to his eyes and silly words spilled off of his tongue, Ronan was too drunk on desire to help himself or care.

“That’s it, lad. Let me love ye,” Ronan mumbled between breaths, sucking harder as his head rose and fell faster.

“Love me? Yes!” Tony gasped, laughing and lolling on the bed.

Tony may have been delirious but Ronan understood the pact they were making as he committed his soul. “Be mine, Anthony Costa. Be mine and I will love ye ‘til the winds and the seas take me.”

“Yes, Ronan! I want to be yours!”

There was a distant howl and wind shook the cottage as Ronan shattered the demon child’s stolen enchantment and replaced it with a far stronger enchantment. One that Ronan placed upon himself.

Like the fickle seas, a merrow’s magick was cold and cunning. Ronan’s instincts had warned that he couldn’t fully lift the curse that had afflicted Tony without making a far more costly trade. The price would be Ronan’s heart, and possibly his life, if the sea was willing to barter. If Tony was healed, Ronan would be the one to grow weak, wasting away without him.

“Mine. And I will live and die for ye,” he agreed, whispering the vow against Tony’s flesh before reaching deep and stroking hard.

“Yours! I’m yours!” Tony arched off the bed, his heels kicking and his toes curling as cum spilled from the head of his cock.

“Mine.” Ronan licked and sucked up every tangy drop, already addicted and hungry for more. “So sweet… Yer like ambrosia, me lad,” he growled and grinned as Tony twitched and giggled on the bed.

“Wait until you see how I feel,” Tony purred, rolling onto his stomach and arching his back like a siren. “I’ve never been this wet and this ready.”

“I’ve never touched another and this is all I’ll ever know,” Ronan said as he reached for the Vaseline, his hands shaking as he opened it and coated his length. He set a knee on the bed and carefully guided the head to Tony’s hole. He closed his eyes, relinquishing the last of his free will as he nudged forward, pressing into exquisitely tight heat. “Glory be!” he cried as he slid deep, nearly burying himself to the hilt.

“Oh, wow!” Tony squeaked out, his eyes rolling as he clutched at the bedding. “That’s tight!” he managed, bringing a grim smile to Ronan’s face as sweat beaded his brow.

“I did notice,” he chuckled.

“Just go slow for a bit,” Tony instructed through panting breaths.

“Aye, I can do that.”

Ronan kept his strokes shallow and thought about his bees and his peach trees until Tony’s strained pants became sultry moans and he began to ride each thrust. Before long, his fists were tangled in the sheets as Tony screamed for more. And Ronan gave him more, driving hard and fast, taking all that he could. He savored every ragged sob and coveted every drop of sweat and semen, glorying in the feel and taste of Tony’s naked body in his arms.

Their lips brushed and Ronan pulled away, afraid he’d ruin the moment if his ugly face touched Tony’s. But Tony grabbed handfuls of Ronan’s hair and kissed him, firmly and thoroughly, permanently binding their souls. Instead of being healed, Tony had claimed his merrow and Ronan shed tears of joy, grateful to be chosen by an angel. He had spent close to two centuries hideous and alone, but that was penance for being a merrow and Ronan would gladly pay it again to belong to Tony.

Only Tony.

The secret of the merrow’s magick, that learned humans had failed to discover, was that enchantments could work in eitherdirection. A younger or weaker merrow could be vulnerable in the presence of a more wily human. The craving for flesh and ecstasy could become dangerously fixed upon that one human, making the merrow hopelessly dependent.

---