Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (23 page)

“Easy now,” Robert said as he began to lower her back onto his cock. “Just keep breathing and relaxing. Oh damn, this feels good, love!”

Ava lost all power of speech at the double penetration, and all she could think of was wanting to share herself with all of them, taking Sean into her mouth again. Her nipples burned, her pussy throbbed, and she moved frantically to drive each arc of arousal higher until the moment when the ultimate ecstasy turned her inside out.

The power of her climax robbed her of sight and sound, leaving her only dimly aware of Robert, Declan and Sean finding their own completion in quick succession to her. She swallowed around Sean, shaking and thrashing as Robert’s fingers on her clit kept drawing out each delicious throb.

As she slowly sank back to earth from the orbit of her orgasm, she began to feel Robert, Declan, and Sean gently kissing and touching her as they pulled out. She sighed in mindless contentment as Declan took her in his arms and leaned back with her against the other end of the tub.

“My beautiful sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “You are so brave and so generous.”

“I feel hollow,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and snuggling into his chest. “And my legs are like strings of spaghetti with lead weights on the ends. I don’t think I can move.”

“You don’t have to, baby,” Sean said, sitting down on the steps by her and reaching over to take her hand in his. “We’ll do everything and take care of you now.”

She wanted to object to such an archaic construction of gender roles, but nothing snappy seemed to come to mind, especially when her mind was full of happy pink fluff.

“Let’s wash you off and get you into bed,” Robert said, leaning forward and soaping up a washcloth. “You need to rest, and later, Zara said she would be by with dinner.”

“Hot damn!” Sean exclaimed, grinning. “We oughta drown Declan more often if it gets us Zara’s cooking!”

Declan growled deep in his chest, but he grinned right back at Sean.

“That really shouldn’t be funny.” Ava laughed. “Don’t you guys cook?”

The three of them gave her a stunned look then looked at each other, seemingly puzzled by the concept. She sighed.

“We’re in big trouble then,” she said, shaking her head.

“Why?” Robert asked.

She looked at each of them to say what she couldn’t yet express in words.

“Because I don’t cook, either,” she replied.

Chapter 21

“Stop squirming, baby,” Sean grumbled sleepily as Ava wriggled against him.

“I’m hot,” she complained in a hiss. She was, too. Sean could feel the heat radiating from her body. She was almost scorching to the touch.

“You got a fever?” he asked, rousing himself in case he needed to take care of her.

“No, it’s too much body heat from the giant wolfmen in my bed,” she whispered grumpily.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Declan said, rolling over and half raising himself to peek down at Ava.

“I’m too hot,” she announced, abandoning whispering as both men were now awake. “You guys are cooking me out of bed!”

Sean glanced guiltily at the heavy quilt that he had insisted on putting on top of the covers. He had been so afraid that Ava had gotten a chill, despite her hot bath. He chuckled ruefully as he pushed the quilt off the bed and glanced at the fire in the fireplace. Yeah, he hadn’t really needed to build such a raging inferno to warm up the room…but he had.

“Can we open a window for a minute?” Ava asked crawling over him to get out of bed.

Sean took full advantage of the moment to run his hands over her sweet, soft body, feeling every line of her under his fingertips. His heart swelled with the deep, unshakable love he had for her. She was it, not just a woman from a legend that would set them free, but she was Ava. His Ava. Their Ava.

“Here, sweetheart,” Declan said. “At least wear this.”

He got out of bed from his own side and came around to give her his T-shirt that he had thrown over a chair. Ava sighed and put the T-shirt on. She went over to the window and struggled with the latch.

“Here, let me do that,” Declan said, making short work of the stiff old window. Soon, blasts of cold, clean night air were filling the room, and Ava stood at the window, taking in deep breaths.

“Is Robert still out there?” she asked.

“Yes,” Declan replied, pulling on his jeans.

Realizing it might be some time before she went back to bed, Sean sighed and got up, pulling on his own clothing. He came to stand by Ava at the window and tried to follow the line of her gaze. She seemed to be looking out at the trees of the forest that stood between their house and White Farm. It was almost impossible to distinguish any one tree from the other in the moonless night. Only his supernatural animal vision allowed him to see the variations of gray that delimited trunks and branches. He could hear the faint shushing sound of the water on the rocks with his sensitive ears. He wondered what Ava could see.

“I feel so bad for him,” she mused, biting her bottom lip in a way that made him want to kiss her and taste those sweet lips for himself. “I feel bad for all of you, taking turns and going out into the cold to run around the house and the woods.”

“What’s really bothering you, baby?” Sean asked, slipping his arm around her waist. “Don’t hold back. The only way we’re going to get through this is if we do it together. No secrets. No brooding. We talk it out.”

She sighed and pressed her fingers to her temples.

“Does the night seem heavy to you?” she murmured. “It’s so…so pitch black and oppressive. There’s no light anywhere. Just darkness all around. Thick darkness, like a curtain you should be able to push aside, but there’s just no end to it.”

She laughed bitterly. “No wonder people quietly went mad in the old days. A lifetime of pushing against the darkness with only candles would drive anyone to the edge.”

“Are you on the edge?” Declan asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said on a huge exhaled breath. “I go from being so numb that I can laugh about everything from werewolves to demons, to being so scared that I think my heart will stop from the sheer terror. My brain freezes and shuts off.”

“So…you were having a panic attack in bed just now?” He pushed a little harder, and Sean grinned and had to admit that Declan was an insightful bastard when he wanted to be.

“Yes. No. I really was too hot, but I thought I would scream if I couldn’t move. I feel trapped. Not by any of you, but by everything. Suddenly, everything in my life seems like a trap, and I don’t feel smart enough to figure out how to escape.”

“You
are
smart enough,” Declan whipped out. Sean recognized him trying to use the voice trick of Robert’s that made people instantly obey, but with only partial success. He felt Ava tremble in his arms, and he sent a warning glance to Declan, who pressed his lips firmly together and nodded once.

“You are smart,” he repeated normally this time. “Without knowing anything, you’ve prepared yourself in the best way possible for facing all of this. You can do this. You just have to think it through. We will help you, and we’ll keep you safe. Nothing will hurt you, Ava. I promise.”

“But what am I supposed to figure out?” she snapped, shrugging out of Sean’s arms, leaving a momentary hollowness where she had been. He refrained from going after her as she began to pace. She needed the room to think, to work out all the junk and the fear so that her incredible intelligence and instinct could have a clear path.

“You tell me, Professor Bell,” Declan retorted coolly, and Sean knew that his brother was deliberately poking at her. “You’re the one with the analytical brain. Or is it that academics nowadays can only be analytical with stuff that’s been preanalyzed and published by some pompous windbag of a tenured professor?”

“You don’t know jack shit about academics if that’s what you think,” Ava spat, pacing quickly and restlessly in front of the fire.

Sean found the sight of her long, slender legs incredibly distracting from the matter at hand. He took a deep breath and shook himself mentally. Survival now, sex later. Okay.

“So, if you’ve got any ideas, tell me,” Declan shrugged. “Otherwise, we’ll go back to Grace and see what she has to say.”

“I know just as well as she does what the solution is,” Ava said testily. “It all hinges around the phrase
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
I have some vague ideas about what it might possibly mean, but I don’t have any evidence to support them. I don’t want to act on just a hunch because I have a feeling we’re not going to get too many shots at this. When I face down Eve Barrows’s ghost, I’m going to do it with my guns fully loaded.”

She paused and looked Declan squarely in the eye, making the most adorable irritated face Sean had ever seen.

“And don’t try that psychological provoking shit on me again, Declan Molineaux,” she said, her lips twitching to hide a smile. “I knew exactly what you were doing and only played along.”

Sean looked at Declan, eager for what would undoubtedly be a damn funny reply, but instead, he beheld Declan, white as a sheet, staring at Ava, aghast.

“You have to face Eve Barrows?” Declan said, anguish and fear choking off his voice.

“Oh no she doesn’t,” Sean said before he could even think. “Ava’s not going anywhere near that ghost. Or White Farm. Ever. If I have to tie her to the bed, I will.”

The terror at the thought of Ava facing an undead spirit that was full of evil intentions was like a punch in the stomach. He wanted to hit something at even the thought of it. There had to be another way, a better way, a safer way.

“It’s not like I want to,” Ava said finally, resuming her pacing, but in a calmer manner. “I just have a feeling, and no, it’s not a baseless hunch like I was talking about earlier. I have a feeling that I have to be the one to summon the shade of Eve Barrows and face her down. I’m not exactly sure of why, yet, but I can sense in the back of my mind that there are threads and connections. I just haven’t been able to suss them out and pin them down.”

She looked up as if she was about to say something more, but suddenly, she stiffened, her eyes glazing over and her mouth open as if midscream. Then, she crumpled in a stiff-limbed heap on the hearth rug.

* * * *

Them
.

She had to warn…she had to run…

Why wasn’t she moving? Why did her legs feel so heavy? Why was everything dark?

She realized her eyes were closed, and with a struggle that it shouldn’t have required, she opened her eyes and looked up into the faces of Sean and Declan, both contorted with fear.

It all slammed into her then. Her body jerked as her arms and legs seemed to be fighting for coordination.

“We have to warn him.” She gasped, hearing her words slur as her lips moved sluggishly, as if she had overdosed on Novocain.

“Who, baby?” Sean asked, cradling her in his arms.

“Robert,” she mumbled out, forcing her mind to send deliberate directions to her body. “Help me up. It’s Robert. He’s in danger.”

“Robert can take care of himself,” Declan said.

“Not this time,” she said, her heart pounding with terror at what seemed an unstoppable horror that was rushing toward them. She felt herself lifted effortlessly to her feet by Sean, then staggered toward the chair where some of her clothes were draped.

She grabbed her jeans and turned to look at Sean and Declan.

“He won’t see it coming,” she whispered, panicked tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. “It’s going to happen. Oh God, it’s happening!”