Homelands Pt. 09 Ch. 05

Niall stood by the flower garden, atop a makeshift stage, playing his fiddle. Brittany and several of the children turned the grassy lawn of the backyard into a dance floor. Nearer the house, Uaid stood behind a small fire and enchanted a few of the younger kids with a story he seemed to be making up as he went along. Ty seemed to have given up trying to rid himself of Wynne, and instead chewed her ear off with a list of his many accomplishments under their grandmother's tutelage. For her part, Aeife had cajoled Oberon into telling Padraig and Blaire a bit more about Titania and the great lengths to which all too many men, mortal and fey alike, had gone to please her.

Cahill could almost think things back to normal. The fear of death, and the need to forget how close to home it had recently struck, hung over everything. It was in Niall's relentlessly upbeat music, Uaid's chilling tale of ogres and goblins, and Oberon's not-so-subtle attempt to convince Padraig that better men than him had done worse at the queen's behest. But if he didn't know to look for it, he might not have seen it. Might have thought they were all without a greater care in the world than whether their special someone felt the same back.

"Your little girl can dance," Caronwyn said, taking a seat beside him in the gazebo. She jerked her head in Cori's direction. "Not just good at chess, it would seem."

She did indeed have surprising grace. Maybe not as much as Maisie, but Maeve at least looked positively clumsy in comparison. Of course, the latter was tossing herself about so emphatically that perhaps the comparison was unfair. She seemed uninterested in the fluid, hypnotic motion exemplified by her Aunt Brittany and mimicked by the other girls. For her, the goal simply seemed to be expelling some of the abundant energy welled up inside her.

Even without Maeve to flatter her by comparison, though, Cori would have impressed.

"But will she still want to after she goes back to being herself?" he wondered aloud.

His mother leaned her head against his shoulder. "She asked me if I'd see to that."

"Really?"

"I told her she should wait for you," the red goddess said. "She then said she'd take the full twenty-four hours you apparently promised her." The steady pulse of her Libido made his heart beat faster. He caught a hint of amusement in its vast depths, beneath the many layers of affection, admiration, and desire. "I don't think she wants to give you the pleasure of being right." A soft hand caressed his bare bicep, bringing Cahill unspeakable pleasure. Her touch was unlike any he'd ever known. "I'd say that one's got your number."

"Sounds like it," he said, though he'd had no intention of saying "I told you so" to his daughter, nor anything to that effect.

"I've decided I'm not really mad at you," Caronwyn announced, apropos of nothing. As if her Libido hadn't made that clear already. There wasn't much lust there just at the moment, which was always the only thing that ever manifested itself as intensely as anger, but what he felt instead was no less gratifying. "Not too much, anyway."

Cahill kissed her beautiful hair, savoring the strawberry fragrance for a few moments afterward. Even the smallest little things about her set her apart from other women. She was so far beyond perfect, there was no word for her. "That mean I get to join in tonight?"

Her eyes slid from the younger dancers to the woman leading them. "Might be short one guy after all. Suppose there'll be room."

She was probably right. If his sister stared at him the way she currently was Finnegan, he'd have no choice but to take her right away, with everyone watching. It would be the only way to avoid utterly disappointing her. Their cousin pretended not to notice, but he was having real trouble giving Seamus his full attention.

That was good. For his sister. Any pleasure he took in the prospect of Finnegan being otherwise disposed later on strictly concerned Brittany's happiness.

His cock twitched in anticipation.

He'd certainly prefer to have their mother all to himself, but he couldn't really object to sharing her with his brother. Without Fiona, Seamus was incomplete. He probably needed Caronwyn's loving as much as she needed his. If not more so.

"How long do you think it'll continue like this?" she asked. Something dark swelled within her. "Leaving me for days at a time whenever our fair queen comes calling."

"I don't know," he said truthfully.

There was nothing he wouldn't do to free her of that unpleasant feeling. To be forever by her side. In her bed. But he had no cards left to play with Titania.

"She can't have our children." Caaronwyn pressed pinched his chin and turned him to face her. "You hear me? If that means Ty never sets foot in Faerie, if none of them ever leave Savannah, so be it. The queen won't lay a finger on a single one of them ever again."

There hadn't been a whole lot of finger laying on her behalf, but that was obviously besides the point. "Couldn't agree more," he said.

"I mean it. Now that we're only sort of pretending to be fey anyway, I'm less and less convinced that world has anything to offer them in the first place. But if the Hunt doesn't end before they come of age, there's no way."

"With you one hundred percent."

Eventually, she nodded. But Cahill could almost think she believed he wanted to subject his children to that. The thought of Wynne or Maeve being hunted down by the likes of Reilly made him shudder. Or even their brothers. The level of coercion involved, by the very nature of the Wild Hunt, was greater than he hoped they'd ever experience.

If only they had some sort of leverage over Titania. Any at all. Cahill had no idea what they'd do if and when she decided it was time for Ty to join the Hunt. There was no ploy so desperate he'd not resort to it if and when that day came, but he honestly couldn't even think of any at the moment. She was too powerful. Too determined. Too inscrutable.

He remembered the way she'd mocked him for thinking he knew the first thing about her. It made his blood run cold.

For all he knew, there were a dozen ways to outmaneuver her. But he couldn't begin to imagine them, because he had no idea what line of attack she was setting up.

"What is it?" his mother asked.

"Nothing worth thinking about," he said.

She seemed to weigh the merits of pressing him, but when she finally spoke, it was only to ask, "You think Regan'll ever be as good as Niall?"

"I'm not sure anyone could be," he replied. "I'm sure not."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"He's not even trying right now. You see how he can't keep his eyes off Aileen? Hear how he misses a note every time Kegan touches her?"

His mother smiled faintly. "I hadn't, actually. But I guess I'm not surprised." The smile broadened. "My boys do love their redheads."

Wasn't that the truth.

It wasn't about the hair, of course. Not truly. If that trait didn't run so strong in their blood, if all their women had the black hair that was nearly as common among Walkers, their feelings would be no weaker. But if only because the women they'd have loved anyway had such distinctive locks, that hue held a power over Cahill and other men of Clan Walker.

"Earlier today, he really showed me something," Cahill said, returning to the topic at hand. "Was spinning glamour like a spider does a web, and I don't think he even knew he was doing it." He searched her face for a reaction. Finding none, he continued, "Pains me to say anything remotely positive about the bastard, but Arawn's the only one I've ever heard play like that. And without the silver flute, I doubt he'd have matched our boy."

"Interesting," Caronwyn said. If she had felt any sort of reaction to the mention of her onetime spouse, father of her first children, or the flute Cahill never should have given him, she hid it well. Even her Libido was suddenly inscrutable.

Cahill waited for her to say more, but she apparently had no intention of doing so.

"We've got some pretty amazing children," he said at last.

"And more to come," she added, taking one of his hands and pressing it to a midsection that still barely even existed. "Many, many more, I'm thinking."

Cahill laughed. "Let's start with 'many' and see what happens."

"Fiiiiine," she intoned, sounding more than a little like Maeve. "But I'm not promising I won't ask Seamus to pick up the slack if you can't keep up."

He grinned, because he was supposed to, but he suddenly felt a bit uneasy.

Of course he'd share Caronwyn with Seamus while he mourned their sister. But it was perhaps not until that moment that he truly realized this wasn't a temporary thing. That Fiona was gone, and she wasn't coming back. That things weren't back to normal, and never would be. His sister's passing had left a hole in their family that couldn't be filled.

The two had learned to live with the fact that they both loved Fiona, occasional jealous outbursts notwithstanding. But Cahill had always had Caronwyn. There'd been no reason for them to view each other as true rivals. What would happen now? Would he grow to resent, even detest, the brother he now loved dearly?

"Hey. You," his mother said, voice sharp. "Look at me. I was kidding. No one's going to steal me away from you. Got that?"

Cahill forced a smile and gave her a quick kiss.

But part of him didn't hear her. Couldn't. Wouldn't even think back to when she'd said that if anything ever happened to her, she hoped that Fiona chose him.

He'd never known fear such as he felt in that moment.

Seamus must have noticed the ill will Cahill was silently bearing him. His eyes turned towards the gazebo, freeing Finnegan to stare at Brittany without pretense.

"Don't," his mother admonished. "If you want, I'll tell him you and I need to be alone tonight. And I'll do the same tomorrow, and every night thereafter."

"That's not necessary," Cahill said. He kissed her again. "Really."

He wished it was. But he knew it wasn't.

#

"Look, I only asked you to sword fight that one time," Seamus said to Cahill while they sat on the bed and waited for Caronwyn to finish disrobing. "You can relax."

Cahill had thought the whiskey he'd pounded towards the end of the night would have helped with that. And perhaps it had, some. But now that they'd retired to the room he'd shared with their mother for so many years, just the two of them, he was feeling really nervous again. Strangely afraid that he'd soon discover that his mother had developed strong feelings for one of her other sons while Cahill had been off in the Dreaming.

Though he knew that fear to be irrational, being no more reasonable than the concern his brother jokingly accused him of, such knowledge did little to comfort him. His throat was so tight, he could hardly breathe, and his head was starting to feel light.

He was still hard as a rock, of course. The only remnants of his mother's clothes were wisps of smoke that were quickly dissipating, and he couldn't gaze upon her naked form without reacting. But his arousal was tainted, nearly spoiled, by anxiety.

Yet their mother snickered as she dropped her to her haunches before them.

Seamus held a hand up to his face, blocking Cahill from view. "I won't even look." The other presented his fully erect cock to their mother.

Following their lead, Cahill undressed without undressing. Unlike his brother, he didn't keep his eyes to himself. Reminding himself that he had a few inches of length on Seamus, and a good bit of girth too, reassured him a little.

For most of his life, overconfidence had been more an issue than insecurity. And it was a bit of a stretch to say that he'd ever been overconfident. He'd hardly ever been rejected by the women who'd caught his eye. They'd never stuck around for long after, unfortunately, and some had told him they found his cockiness offputting, but when he'd set his sights, he'd nearly always hit his mark. The feelings he'd been struggling with for the past few hours, since realizing that Seamus had no one else, were thus quite unfamiliar to him.

He'd never felt so vulnerable. So incapable of recovering from the loss he nonetheless recognized as improbable. And he liked it not at all.

Even seeing her with Oberon hadn't made him feel like this. There was a reason his uncle was the most legendary man of the fey, but he'd not leave Aeife for her daughter in a million years. Not even if Caronwyn tried to steal him away. Which she wouldn't.

Just as Seamus would never turn his back on Fiona. If she'd still been around to abandon, that was. It was "never would have" now, not "would never."

For some reason, that was still proving difficult for him to grasp.

"Mmm," their mother moaned as she took hold of her sons with either hand. The warmth of her palm almost made Cahill forget his fears. "Tonight's my lucky night, I see."

"No less ours," Seamus said. "Though someone doesn't seem to realize it."

"Wonder what we can do about that," Caronwyn said as she started to slide her hand up and down Cahill's length. He moaned in anticipation as much as anything. "How's that?"

"It's a start."

She picked up the pace. Energy started emanating from her skin, sending waves of pleasure up and down his shaft. Cahill's mouth fell open and his head lolled back. The sounds escaping his throat were so over the top, he couldn't believe his brother didn't mock him. But it felt that good. He couldn't help himself.

He heard his mother ask, "And you?" But she got no response.

Perhaps that explained it. If she was doing the same for Seamus as she was him, the poor guy would be in no position to crack wise.

"Should I slow down?" their mother asked them.

"No," Cahill gasped.

"Please don't," Seamus panted.

She didn't. Neither did she speed things up. Or grace them with her warm mouth. Just kept working them with her soft hands. Her strokes didn't reach Cahill's glans, but it didn't matter. With those little supernatural embellishments, she didn't need to go near his more sensitive parts. Before long, his eyes began to water.

"Okay, maybe just a little slower," Cahill said.

"And you?" she asked his brother.

"Fuck!" Seamus said. Which could have meant just about anything.

Mercifully, their mother eased them back from the brink. Or, one of them anyway. It got harder and harder for Cahill to remember that anyone else even existed, let alone sat right beside him. Goddess that she was, Caronwyn delivered just the right amount of pleasure. No more than he could handle, no less than he needed.

"Who's first?" she asked some time later.

It took him a moment to realize how that question even made sense.

"Him," Seamus said through gritted teeth. "I can't."

And so, not a moment later, soft lips enveloped Cahill. He nearly lost it right then. As his bulbous head slowly slid into the warm cavity, he raced headlong towards oblivion. It only took one quick flick of her tongue to push him send him over the edge. As he started to cum, she swirled her soft organ around the tip of his cock. Cahill's hands gripped the bed covers tight and his ass clenched so tight his tailbone popped.

She didn't extend his orgasm the way she so often did. Just lapped up his modest offering and allowed the moment to pass. But neither did she let up. And Cahill knew it wouldn't be long before he reached another, more intense climax.

Or wouldn't have been, if she hadn't stopped abruptly.

Cahill groaned in protest as his mother switched over to fellating Seamus. The injustice of it was simply unspeakable. She hadn't even given him any warning.

"Oh, shit," his brother soon said, eyes squeezed tightly shut and hips gently pumping back and forth. Seamus clutched at his chest, as if afraid he was about to have a heart attack. "That's...that's good, Mom. Reeeaaal good."

The palm and fingers still wrapped around Cahill kept stroking, but not very enthusiastically. And the warm waves had stopped pouring out of it. The handjob was now just a handjob, and not much of one at that. He felt as though he'd plummeted from the very heights of ecstasy, landing hard on the rocks below.

Thankfully, though, his brother didn't last long. What man could have, after all? Moreover, their mother inflicted the same torture on him as she had Cahill. After continuing just long enough to allow her son to think he was going to get a two-for-one, she broke her suction seal. The accompanying soft pop was followed shortly by a gasp from Seamus.

When she took Cahill in her mouth for a second time, his mother reminded him of one of the many aspects of her divinity. She carefully kept him just shy of the brink, allowing him to truly enjoy her ministrations. For a long time. Her warm mouth, soft lips, and nimble tongue worked wonders. And though that would have been more than enough, she gradually introduced his favorite flourishes. Nibbled at his ears. Ran spectral fingers lightly over his chest and shoulders, through his hair, and occasionally along his lips. Then, best of all, she placed a lid on his Libido, preventing him from climaxing, and went all out. Devoted her full attention to the most sensitive parts of his manhood, dialed up his sensitivity, and imparted greater pleasure upon him than the human body was intended to withstand.

He remained in the red zone for several minutes, where a mere five or ten seconds would have sufficed absent her intervention. His mother very nearly paralyzed him with her expert mouth. His only movements, such as the erratic twitching of his abominals and pectorals, were strictly involuntary. He wasn't much more functional upstairs, either. The same thought ran through his mind over and over, on a perpetual loop.

This. Is. Fucking AMAZING.

When his orgasm came, it was legendary. It lasted nearly as long as the act that had produced it, which his mother hadn't rushed. It started at the tip of his cock, soon reached his balls, then his belly, and soon his whole body. He expelled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding so long, and the pins and needles in his head finally started to fade away. It wasn't just oxygen or a pleasant tingling sensation that left him, though. His Libido had ruptured and he was hemorrhaging energy at what might have been an alarming rate, if he wasn't feeling so good as to be utterly incapable of such a reaction.

"Goddess," he whispered, unable to place any other words in front of it.

His mother kept milking him greedily, sucking ever more jizz out of his cock. His testicles were working so hard, he started to feel stabs of pain each time they jumped. But it was felt from a great distance, for he'd slipped out of his body at last.

High up above, he floated while Caronwyn finished her feast. Ever so slowly, she eased back, allowing her full lips to close around his tip in a parting kiss. He watched her smile up at him, and him smile back, teasing a lock of her gorgeous red-brown hair. He remained detached from his body for most of his brother's second blowjob too.

When she finished with Seamus, not long after Cahill's consciousness settled back into his body, he reacted similarly. Twitching, gasping, eyelids fluttering, and essentially speechless. Soon enough, he went limp from head to toe, and Cahill assumed his brother was having his own out of body experience. Not that this led their mother to let up for so much as an instant. Not until she was good and done, having harvested all that he could provide, did she rock back on her heels and drag her nails lightly across his bare thighs.