But being inside Vela’s mind shifted everything into a new gear that revved up his heart at the same time.
This was the full expression of love.
He was with the woman he loved, who had come to mean the sun, moon, and stars to him, who had taken him out of his darkness and brought him into the light.
Her mind was beautiful, full of goodness and worth, of kindness toward her friends and full acceptance of his warrior state. He felt whole and complete, well-loved, his body saturated with pleasure so that with each thrust he came closer to a serious explosion.
His balls were tight and ready, his c**k hard and she tugged on him with every rock of her hips.
Now flow into my mind, he sent.
Let’s take this thing all the way.
Yes. Her mind crossed back into his and at that moment, the breh-hedden struck like a gale force wind, pounding down on him and her, because her mind was within his and he could see all that she was experiencing. Her pleasure became his and his became hers.
The fire of her potion struck at the same time.
He drew back from her neck. His body arched. His orgasm burst through him and pleasure flowed like nothing he’d known before. He shouted into the air and at the same time felt her own ecstasy streaking through her, exploding deep inside her well.
Her pleasure. His. Back and forth.
“Oh, God,” he shouted, because a second eruption took place and this time he writhed on her body. Somewhere he knew she was screaming as well, and pushing back against him.
Damn, Samuel. How you please me.
Damn.
Yes. Oh, God, Vela. But his mind could say no more than those few words.
His body felt on fire, into every muscle, tissue, and bone.
He continued to thrust and she kept pushing back at him, riding the immense wave of the breh-hedden. A third orgasm rushed out of him and once more he shouted and again she screamed as ecstasy flowed and pummeled and drove his sensations through her mind and hers through his, a complete and utter sharing.
When the last wave passed, and he settled his body against hers, as he took the levitation back down to the mattress, Samuel relaxed against her body. But he could feel what his c**k felt like for Vela, within her well, what his hands felt like against her breast, his lips against her skin. All was a dual sensation, unending.
“My, God, Samuel. I could feel you come and it made my own orgasm so intense.
Oh, the pleasure you experienced.” She stroked his head and kissed his neck.
He could do little more than lie there, taking it all in, relaxing maybe for the first time in his life. She was still in his mind, an extraordinary and peaceful presence, an easing of a hundred years of harsh, male living.
He sighed deeply.
“You’re at ease.”
“I am.” Incredible.
“I can feel what it’s like for you to have your c**k deep inside me. It’s so male. A penetration, a conquering, and yet so much more.” He chuckled. “Yes, it feels like that, like I’ve done what a man is supposed to do.” She kissed his neck again. “I hope we get to do this a lot. Do you know that because of the breh-hedden, I can feel what my lips feel like against your skin?”
“Yes, I can tell that the stubble right there, at my jaw-line, prickles your lips.”
“Uh-huh.” She kept kissing him, small teasing bits of pressure against his cheeks and nose and finally his lips.
He kissed her for a long time, exchanging a dozen thoughts on what the breh-hedden felt like for each of them.
“More than anything,” she said, drawing back and smoothing her hand over his cheek then pushing her fingers into his hair, “I feel connected to you, very deeply. And I know you, how you think. I even saw some of what happened to you in Honduras, but the memories felt distant, even removed as though they existed in a former life.” He met her beautiful blue gaze. “It was a former life. You’ve come to me now, bringing this tremendous gift that joins us.” She chuckled and kissed him.
“You’re wrong. You brought this gift to me. I’d set up a reclusive life for myself and you made me look at that, at my deepest truths. Maybe the breh-hedden brought us together, Samuel, but you showed me things that I’d never wanted to look at before. No, you brought this gift to me.”
“I feel the same way about you.” With that, he kissed her and because he caught her floral scent, still an enigma, and because he could feel the pleasure his c**k gave her, he began to move once more inside her, rocking his hips in a rhythm as old as time.
Long after even Horace had declared Duncan’s body fully recovered, Duncan remained in the hospital, lying on his side, unable to leave the trance-like state that had held him prisoner since his rescue.
Part of his mind functioned rationally; he knew when the nurses came and bathed him, when his friends approached his bed and spoke to him, and even when Rachel arrived and wept over him until her brother, Gideon, took her away.
Above all, Rachel caused the most distress. He’d loved her for decades and had been her lover for part of that time.
But Rachel held beliefs so different from his own that when neither would compromise, they’d broken up permanently not long ago.
He wanted to give comfort and to explain, but he couldn’t because a running film of images kept him trapped, in which a woman called to him almost continuously, sometimes singing to him, sometimes speaking in a low seductive voice, but always engaging his heart, like a powerful call to ascension.
The woman lived on Third Earth and needed him desperately. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, her auburn hair in a beautiful curly mass around her face, cascading past her shoulders, her complexion glowing and pale, and her voice like an angel.
She told him that at exactly the right hour, he would rise from his bed and he would come to her, something he longed to do more than anything else in the world.
She had told him something else as well: that Rachel must die…
A week later, Vela took a long look around at the exquisite Parisian opera house, an unusual and rather ornate place for a Warrior of the Blood induction ceremony. She sat in a box beside Madame Endelle, a place of honor, since all European Two royalty inhabited the remaining first tier boxes the entire distance from one side of the room to the other.
Jewels glittered and each tux in the theater no doubt represented every famous Mortal Earth or Second designer in two dimensions. Samuel had chosen Hugo Boss, even though Greaves’s had favored him. All he’d said, while adjusting his white cuffs was that he intended to change the future. As simple as that. “Besides, why should Hugo Boss be punished for something that monster did?” She’d smiled as she smiled now.