Homelands Pt. 09 Ch. 02

His heart started pounding so fast he thought it would fracture his ribcage. He hoped against hope that she'd leave it at that.

"Did you ask him about it?"

"Should I?" he asked.

She considered that for a time. "I guess not."

End of discussion.

End of discussion.

Please, please, please, be the end of the discussion.

"Maaaaaaaa!" Maeve cried. "Regan pulled my hair!"

Cahill practically jumped out of his chair. "I got it," he said, starting towards them. He certainly wasn't happy that his son had pulled her hair, after being told so many times never to do that again, but there couldn't have been a better time for such an interruption.

"Thank you, dear," Caronwyn said, stroking his arm as he walked past.

He first made Regan apologize then sent him to his room. Maeve stuck her tongue out at her brother as he moped off, though he suspected she hadn't meant for her father to see. He asked her what she'd done to provoke Regan. A mortal child would have said, "Nothing." But her fey nature prevented her from doing so.

After he finally got a confession out of her, she asked, "Do I have to go to my room too?"

"No, baby," he said. "You can stay and finish the tournament." She rolled her eyes at that. "But your music lesson is going to have to wait until tomorrow."

"Mmmph!" Maeve grunted, stomping her foot and slicing a fist through the air.

"Maybe you should try getting along with your brother," he said. "How many times do we have to ask you two not to fight?"

Turning on a heel, the little girl stormed off. Headed, no doubt, for her room.

"What was that about?" his mother asked when he came back.

He wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, and told her. "I didn't want to take her lesson away from her," he said. "But I really had no choice."

"You stinker," she said, adding a few extra syllables to each word. The beginnings of a chuckle lurked under those words. "I'm really going to beat you now."

"Uh huh." He gave her another kiss then returned to his seat. "My turn or yours?"

#

Cahill was standing behind the bar, drinking coffee and talking to Brittany about the ring he wanted her to make, when he saw his mother knock her king over with a flick of her finger. He tried not to smile at that. Or to let her defeat at his uncle's hands diverst his attention too much from the question his sister had asked.

"What?" he asked. Inside his mind, he skipped back a few seconds, then gave her words another listen. "Yeah. That'd be fine. I don't think it matters much which metal you use."

"I've just always thought white gold looks better than silver or platinum," she said. "But I've never tried endowing alloys with glamour."

"Oh. Right," he said. "Actually, it might be better to stick with something pure."

She gave him a flat look. Then, having apparently noticed his wandering eyes, she looked over her shoulder at their approaching mother. "You two are too cute, you know that?"

"You think so?"

"Sometimes I think Finnie loves me as much as a guy can, but it's so hard to tell. The cold metals I work with are better at expressing their emotions than he is."

Pointing his cup toward her for emphasis, Cahill said, "You know, just the other day, I saw him grin. Not smile, mind you, but still. His lips definitely curved upward." He paused a moment. "Or twitched maybe. At least a twitch, I'm sure about that."

Brittany smacked his bicep with a grin of her own. A genuine one, not the faint sort sometimes sort of almost detected on Finnegan.

"Speaking of which, I'm gonna go see what he's up to," she said, just as Caronwyn joined them. "Hi ma. Bye ma," she added, giving their mother a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks in advance," Cahill said. "I'll drop the acorn off later."

"Sounds good," his sister said, waving at him as she headed for the stairs.

"If it makes you feel any better," his mother said. "I lost to Oberon."

"I saw," he said with a grin. "And it does."

She tried to glower at him, but it didn't work. Her face stayed still for a second or two before her mouth twitched and she snickered. "You know what I love most about you?"

"My incredible good looks?" he asked. "My easygoing nature?"

"That you're such a gracious loser," she said. Leaning forward and lowering her voice, she added, "I'm going to enjoy the look on your face while they're fucking my brains out."

Cahill gave her a quick kiss on the lips and decided that was retort enough.

His mother ran her fingers through his hair. As her hand made its way back, it snatched up his cup. After stealing a sip of his coffee, she asked him to fix her one of her own.

"Fine, but only cause I like you," he said.

"I was getting tired of playing anyway," she explained as he turned to fix her drink. Explained, rationalized, whatever. "These tournaments take forever."

"Uh huh," he said.

"Where'd everyone get to?" his mother asked. "I see they're done with the maze run."

"Around, I guess."

"Aren't you helpful," she replied.

He placed her coffee in front of her and gave her a quick kiss before she could taste it. "I'm gonna go see if Niall's had enough sulking to play some music."

"What's he sulking about?" she asked.

"Getting caught so many times, ostensibly," he said. "But Uaid told me he saw Aileen kissing Kegan. He thinks that's what Niall's really upset about."

"Oh dear," Caronwyn said.

"A lot of trouble for a redhead."

That earned him a slap on the knuckles. He laughed, kissed her soft lips again, then again just for good measure, and took his leave of her.

He found Niall in his room, playing cards with Uaid. If his son was still down in the dumps, he hid it well. Funny how winning a bunch or chips could lift a guy's spirits, even when there was no monetary value attached to them.

"Hey boys," Cahill said as he approached the bed. "Whachya doing?"

Uaid tossed his cards at Niall with a frown. "Playing poker. Want in?"

"How bout you and I play as a team?" he asked, pulling a chair up to the bed.

That made it Niall's turn to frown. "No fair."

"You can start with twice as many chips," he said. He was less interested in giving Uaid an unfair advantage than helping his son learn to play better. "That even things out?"

Niall shrugged. "Suppose so."

"You shouldn't have punished Regan," Uaid said while his brother shuffled the cards.

"Oh, are you an expert on parenting now?" Cahill asked.

The boy frowned. "No. Just sayin'. Wasn't his fault."

"Cut?" Niall asked, extending the deck to Cahill.

Afraid that if he touched the cards, the two of them might get dealt pocket aces on the first hand, he waved away the offer.

"Maeve's always pushing his buttons," Uaid continued. "Trying to get him in trouble."

"I punished her too," Cahill said, though he wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to explain himself to a twelve year old. "Doesn't matter if she provoked him. Boys don't hurt girls. Ever. For any reason. Got that?"

Niall gave an approving nod, but Uaid looked unconvinced. He didn't argue, but it was clear that he thought it unfair this gave Maeve inordinate power over her brothers.

Give the girl a few years. She might not be as interested in getting under their skin, but she'd wield a different sort of power over them. Regan especially, but probably Uaid too.

"Girls can be stronger than boys," Uaid muttered, almost inaudibly. "Aileen's got more muscle than any of us. Cept maybe Ty."

The mention of their cousin caught Niall's attention, but he didn't say anything. To judge by the look on his face, though, Uaid might have found out what a broken nose felt like if he'd gone and suggested that it would be okay for a guy to hit her.

"That's not the point," Cahill said.

"Yeah, I know." Uaid picked up the cards Niall dealt them. "It's just that Maeve's so annoying. I guess that's my only real point."

Silently, Niall tossed a chip into the pot, matching the big blind.

Cahill mussed up Uaid's hair. Then he leaned in to see their cards. His luck apparently hadn't kicked in yet. All they had was 6-3, offsuit.

"What are we going to do with that?" he asked.

Uaid rapped his knuckles against the quilt covering Niall's bed. That didn't have quite the same effect as it would have with a proper poker table, but his brother understood the gesture well enough. He tossed a burner aside and dealt out the flop.

Two face cards and a nine. No help for them.

His son reached for their chips.

"You sure about that?" Cahill asked.

Uaid gave him a disappointed look. "Not now, I'm not." He looked at Niall, who was smirking. "Thanks for ruining the bluff, Dad."

Niall casually tossed a couple of chips at the pot.

"Be better off with Mom on my team," Uaid said as he folded.

"You think so?" Cahill asked.

"She whooped you at chess earlier, didn't she?"

The little smartass. "Chess is different," Cahill replied.

"You mean harder?" Uaid asked as he took the cards from Niall.

At least they were giving Niall some amusement. Keeping his mind off Aileen.

Cahill looked at their cards. More crap. "We're up, buddy."

Uaid called the big blind. Cahill said nothing.

"Ty said Grandma told him there was something wrong with them yesterday," Niall said as he rained a few chips, not all of which were white, into the pot. "After you and I worked on them. That mean I did something wrong?"

"No," Cahill said, watching the younger one to see how he'd react to the raise. "It's...it's complicated. But it wasn't you. Just leave it at that."

"Are we safe?"

Uaid slid their cards across the bed with disgust. At least he had sense enough to know when he'd gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"You don't need to worry about that."

"That's...not a no," Uaid observed.

Cahill sighed. They knew the rules as well as he did. When one of the fey dodged a direct question, you pushed them on it. If they dodged again, you had your answer.

"We're doing what we can."

Niall dealt them a king and a queen.

"I need you boys to tell me right away if you start having nightmares," he said. "Especially if a blonde woman with bright colors in her hair appears in them."

"The queen?" Uaid asked, staring at their cards. The one depicted Titania quite well. The streaks in her hair even shifted from time to time, as did the color of her eyes, lips, and fingernails. "Why would she haunt our dreams?"

"Why do you think?" Niall asked. "Because she's the queen, and she can."

"That's about right," Cahill said.

"She can't hurt us though, right?" Uaid asked.

"No more than any other dream," he confirmed. That hardly meant she posed no threat, but his sons didn't need to know that. Cahill wouldn't let it get that far. He wasn't sure what he'd do to stop her, but he'd figure something out. "But I still need you to tell me."

That seemed to satisfy his youngest son. Niall, however, could not have looked less relieved. Face white, he finally remembered to check his cards. Then promptly folded.

"Jerkface," Uaid said, showing their hand. "You were supposed to play that one."

Niall smiled, but it was hollow.

"She's pretty," he said, studying the queen. "Wouldn't think she's so terrible."

"Looks can be deceiving," Cahill said.

"Take you for example," Uaid told his brother. "You don't look as dumb as a box."

#

That night, Fiona and Seamus patrolled the city while Brittany and Finnegan were designated as the only adults who could be disturbed by children. With Seamus unavailable for the evening, Aeife, who'd learned about the bet Cahill had lost to Caronwyn during dinner, suggested a different prize for her daughter. She had plans for Gallech and Reilly, but she wouldn't need to keep them all to herself. And Oberon could substitute for Seamus. Though it would mean allowing her mother to share the guys' attention, Caronwyn happily agreed. She was less interested in having three men tend to her every need than putting Cahill in his place, anyway. And she guessed, correctly, that he'd not find that any easier to watch than what she'd originally proposed.

Pretty much the moment Oberon began to undress, Cahill knew it would in fact be worse.

He'd never seen the former prince naked. Had never much wanted to, either, though it did strike him as odd once he thought about it that he'd never shared a woman with his uncle before. Not even Aeife, who was a big fan of getting double-teamed.

It wasn't just his physique, or his mother's evident appreciation of it. He'd have liked to think that Oberon's pale skin, short height, and excessively narrow waist would more than offset his superior musculature. But no. He felt his mother's Libido swell even before she looked between his legs. While Oberon fumbled with his jeans, Caronwyn stared at his ridiculously perfect abs, her eyes wide and her jaw slack. Once his pants joined his shirt on the floor, she actually gasped aloud before covering her mouth.

And, much as that stung, he couldn't even blame her.

Never small, Cahill had grown larger as he'd grown stronger. Part of him thought he might have become too big, though rare were the complaints he received from the women of his family. Teagan, the half-sister he hadn't seen in forever, had sometimes failed to hide that he was more than she could handle. And he'd added an inch or two since then.

Yet Oberon made him look tiny.

Well, no, that wasn't fair. No one could make him look tiny. But his uncle had a good inch or two on him, despite being four inches shorter.

Cahill had never really considered the possibility that a man could be bigger than he was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been anything but the largest guy in the room.

"Oh, my," his mother said, forgetting the shame she'd rightly felt when the pale monster had first appeared. Like Cahill wasn't even there. "That's...wow."

"Now you know why your the first woman I've let near him," Aeife said. "I've been afraid that if any of you got one look at him, you'd never let him out of your beds."

No reaction of any sort showed on Oberon's face. The fucker.

Gallech and Reilly were unfazed. They finished undressing and started pulling at Aeife's clothes. But Cahill just couldn't get over the size of it. Or how it hypnotized his mother.

She stepped forward and placed a hand on it. The feel of it was apparently enough to make her giggle like a teenager touching one for the first time. Even worse, when Oberon brushed a lock of red hair back from her face, she slipped into orgasm.

He hadn't so much as kissed her. Just touched her hair.

Or maybe it was that magic dick of his that did it. The feel of it throbbing in her hand.

Cahill could hardly breathe. He'd seen his mother with other men plenty of times. Gallech and Reilly, Seamus, Finnegan, even his uncle Kearney. It was impossible not to feel some jealousy, but he'd never felt like this. Slightly uncomfortable, perhaps, but nothing more. Now, though, he felt nauseous. Light-headed. And completely powerless.

"You're beautiful," Oberon said softly.

Caronwyn swooned. He hadn't exactly shown a great deal of creativity there, but one might think it was the greatest compliment she'd ever received.

When the former prince pressed his lips gently to hers, she climaxed a second time. And, judging by the alacrity with which her Libido emptied itself, and how long it continued to bleed energy, she'd not soon forget the experience. Her fucking clothes were still on, and the guy had already made a lasting impression on her.

Cahill was vaguely aware that Aeife was taking turns sucking on two cocks, but that might as well have been in another world. All he could process was his mother and Oberon.

He wished he'd insisted she wait for Seamus.

With patience Cahill doubted he'd ever be able to muster, even if his mother would have tolerate it, Oberon slowly undressed Caronwyn. With her shirt still on, Oberon held her waist in his hands and made love to the hips her jeans left partly bare. There was no urgency whatsoever to his movements, which didn't seem to bore Caronwyn, who often begged Cahill not to torture her so, in the least.

After removing her top, he focused on her arms. Silvery tongues of fairy fire danced all along them, reaching up to her shoulders. The flames didn't seem to burn so much as tantalize. And when Oberon began sucking on her fingertips the way Cahill sometimes did her toes, her eyes rolled back in her head and her body started to shake.

Another fucking orgasm. Not particularly intense, but still.

Her bra turned to rose petals which fell to the ground as slowly as leaves on a breeze in autumn. How nice and poetic. Sam Mendes would be proud.

"Slow down," Caronwyn murmured as he began fondling them, tweaking her nipples lightly with delicate fingers. She rarely told Cahill to slow down. "I can't...oh, fuck."

Again, the climax seemed modest enough. But he'd already lost track of how many times she'd gotten off, and they'd barely started. Her freaking pants were still on.

Somewhere nearby, in a universe far far away, Gallech was fucking Aeife's face while Reilly slammed into her snatch from behind. The sounds of their lovemaking were loud, yet heard only distantly, as if from underwater.

A chaise lounge appeared out of nowhere and Oberon guided Caronwyn down to it. He took his sweet time caressing his way down her legs. The sounds Caronwyn made as he did seemed entirely out of accordance with the fact that thick denim separated her skin from his hands. Eventually, Oberon arrived at her ankles. He undid the straps of her red pumps with a single finger then set about worshipping her gorgeous feet.

"Ooh, yeeeaaah," Caronwyn moaned, throat rumbling, as she stretch her leg out and ran a hand sensually over her body. "That feels gooooood."

Why did it look like he was savoring a rare treat any man would have killed to enjoy? When Cahill made love to his mother's feet, he always felt like he was debasing himself just a little. He didn't mind that. In fact, it added to the excitement. But Oberon managed to look dignified while doing it. The same way he always did. Whether losing in chess to Seamus, sucking on Caronwyn's toes, or setting a throng of mortal women to screaming and crying simply by walking past them, he always looked so distinguished.

If he got out of his chair and went to join his uncle, tending to the other foot, how would she react? Would she go with the flow? Lose herself in the ecstasy?

No. She might have forgotten about him and the joy she'd intended to take in his suffering, but if he reminded her of his presence, that would all come back to her.

Cahill covered his face with his hand, but that didn't really help. Especially since he kept tilting it away so he could see better. Some small part of him wanted to put an end to the suffering, but the temptation was too great.

The room shrank. His eyes saw white where there was floral wallpaper, antique furniture, and light blue carpeting. The intense threesome taking place on the emperor-sized bed no longer registered at all, not even dimly. The entirety of his existence consisted of his half-naked mother and the ghostly former prince.

He never should have been called the Prince of Valor. Amor was more like it. Or seduction. It was not in battle that this man distinguished himself from all others.

"Mmm, yeah, right there," she panted as Oberon...did something. With his tongue, perhaps. Or who knows, maybe just his fucking grey eyes. "Keep going."

Cahill realized he'd gotten hard. He wasn't enjoying this. At all. Yet part of him was, in spite of himself. And it wasn't just because the most erotic sound in all worlds of all existence was that of his mother in ecstasy.