Homelands Pt. 11 Ch. 02

It did not, however, abate her lust. Not even for a moment. In fact, it left her hornier than ever. She couldn't even remember what she'd been trying to get him to discuss. A hunger such as she'd never felt had come roaring out of its wintry cave.

"Two can play at that game," Zach said with a smirk.

What was he talking about? And why was he talking at all?

Right. Her Libido. He'd made it feel too small to contain her energy.

Zach ran his fingers lightly through her hair and Yvette wished he'd grab a fistful and yank hard. She wanted to feel her scalp sting. Wanted to know that his desire for her was as potent, and as primal, as what she felt for him. But he remained in control, both of his urges and of her. Those cold eyes froze her in place, and though she'd lost all interest in their conversation, she made no move to push things forward. Because he commanded her not to, without speaking a single word. And she was her brother's willing slave.

"We've got plenty of sisters too," he said, gentle mockery in his voice. It almost felt like they'd grown up together. This Zach most certainly had pulled her hair before, though not in sexual way. Maybe ripped her colorings off the fridge because they covered up his kindergarten report card. "How would you like to watch me entertain a dozen of them?"

The words hurt, though she knew that was their only purpose. He'd never do it. Somehow Yvette was sure of that, despite having just met the guy. And having already been proven wrong about the range of temptations to which he'd succumb.

Then she realized how she knew. She could feel his Libido. Read it, though that sounded awfully sterile for what was an incredibly intimate connection.

Yvette could sense that Zach was less powerful than Lance, nevermind the queen, and that no matter how restrained he appeared outwardly, he was nearly as eager to get inside her as she was to have him there. More than that, though, she could tell what her brother was into. What sorts of things excited him, which repulsed him, and which he'd go along with but wouldn't really enjoy too much himself. He wasn't into kink, though he'd experiment a bit for his lover if asked. And he was more into giving than receiving. He'd rather participate in a gangbang of which she was the focus than arrange a reverse one for himself, and if she chose to leave him out, he'd enjoy that too. More than he'd ever admit. He'd hate himself for it, but it would excite him all the same. The idea of having several women all to himself didn't do much for him, though. Come to think of it, he'd hardly reacted at all when she'd all but confirmed that she too had experienced the queen's sexual prowess.

"Okay, I'll be a good girl," she said. "Kinda. Sort of. For a little while."

At last, Zach initiated a kiss. One so good it made her cum. Twice.

Long after she returned to the body she'd all too briefly escaped, Yvette felt waves of ecstasy roll over her. They quickly grew gentler, though. Her breathing returned, as did her senses. Her thoughts remained a jumble, and there was a gaping hole in her memory, but she no longer felt incapable of surviving the pleasure. And after surrendering a good deal of energy to her brother, her Libido no longer felt too small.

At some point, she'd apparently found her way onto her back. But all her clothes were still on. As were most of her brother's. His shirt had disappeared, though. And so Yvette had no choice but to run her hands over his torso. He wasn't quite as muscular as Lance, and his abs weren't as defined, but he still had an amazing body. And the sexiest layer of fur. Thick and dark, but not overgrown. It made him look masculine, almost wild, yet didn't obscure the beautiful muscle and pale skin beneath.

"You really want to know?" he asked. "Why I support her plan."

"Oh. That," Yvette said. It was tempting to tell him to forget about it, that she was more interested in getting his big dick out of those pants, but she knew she'd regret it later. "Yeah. I do," she said as she teased one of his nipples with alternately cold then warm fingertips. "If what you like about it is more a fortunate byproduct than the actual intent, she can't really mind you telling me."

He looked uncertain. So she nibbled his ear, making sure to leave a little frost behind.

"Fuck," he gasped, cold breath reaching her neck. "You don't fight fair."

"Nope," she confirmed before licking the frost away with a suddenly warm tongue.

He pulled away so quickly she almost thought he was mad. But then she realized he just couldn't handle being that close to her without getting physical. Which was pretty okay.

As her brother poured steaming hot coffee into a pair of porcelain mugs that hadn't existed a moment ago, he said, "Winter's not the only fantasy world in existence."

"Right. There's Middle-Earth, Narnia, Krynn, Westeros-"

"That's a continent, not a world," Zach corrected.

She smiled. He wasn't the same kind of geek she was, perhaps, but he was a geek. And as weak in the knees as alphas like Lance made her, she liked that.

"Anyway, that's not what I mean," her brother continued. "We're not talking fiction."

"I know," she said, taking her coffee from him. It was too hot to drink, until it wasn't. Because she was born of Winter, and if there was one thing her powers allowed her to do, it was manipulate temperature. "Lena said something about the Homelands earlier."

Zach nodded before raising his coffee to his lips. "And while our mother's only real concern is Winter, she's going to end up saving several other worlds in the process."

"From what, exactly?"

"That, I don't think I should tell you."

Yvette took a long sip. "Tell me more about these other worlds."

"Courts," Zach said. "I think they're worlds unto themselves, but for some reason we still call them courts. Though I'm not sure that means what it would to a Medieval European." He frowned. "Anyway, there's not much to tell. Like I said, we didn't really talk much."

"And our sister? Did she not tell you anything?"

"We haven't spent a lot of time talking either," he said, blushing.

That was almost good news. Much as she hated the idea of them having sex, the fact that their interactions went past the physical bothered her even more. She'd yet to have a conversation with Lance that anything but superficial. They certainly hadn't discussed the geography of the Homelands or the hierarchy of its courts.

Why, why, why had she let Lena be his first?

"We're part of the seasonals," Zach said. "As you probably guessed, there're courts named for Summer, Spring, and Autumn," he added, with the cutest little self-effacing wince. She hadn't, actually, though it made sense. "And we're all in danger."

"From another court?" she asked.

He looked uncertain.

"Okay, don't answer that," Yvette said as she drank more of the gourmet coffee. She hadn't ever gotten around to developing as big a caffeine addiction as everyone assured back in the Lodge had assured her she would before graduation, particularly in her major, but she appreciated a good cup. And that was just what her brother had conjured up. "But there are other courts? That's why it's worth referring to some of them as seasonals?"

He nodded. "Lena thinks there might be an infinite number. Or at least so many that no one can count them all. Except the ancients maybe."

Yvette's brow furrowed.

Again her brother sat on empty air, though he now hovered a bit lower than when she'd arrived. He suspended himself at just the right height to look her in the eyes, though she was a few inches shorter than him. "It's almost worth asking for a map."

She snickered. "Sounds that way."

"Apparently there's not just multiple worlds, but multiple levels. Or realities even. There are only two courts that exist on every level. In every reality. I guess they're at the center of the Homelands." He chose that moment to sip his coffee, naturally. The jerk. "The Shadowed Glade of the Moon and the Eternal Garden of the Sun."

"Heaven and Hell?"

"Basically," he said. "At least, the queen thinks they're responsible for mortal beliefs in such, which they far predate." Then, speaking soft and quick, almost as if he wasn't sure he actually wanted her to hear, he added, "According to Lena." He then hurried to add, "On this level, there's those two, the seasonals, and a place known as the Hinterlands that isn't really populated by our kind," . "But there's really no saying how many other layers there are, or how many immortals they contain. Makes me think of Men in Black."

What he'd described didn't really imply universes contained within marbles. What Yvette pictured in her mind instead was a network with a bunch of clusters, all connected to two central nodes but not each other. But perhaps her brother wasn't familiar with graph theory. That was okay, though. He might be the wrong kind of geek, but he was still cute.

Especially because he didn't realize that he'd as good as told her what threat their mother was going to save the seasonal courts from.

Figuring she probably ought to stop asking questions, lest she get him in trouble without meaning to, Yvette banished their coffee mugs. As well as most of her clothes, leaving only the underwear she'd prefer to have him remove himself.

With his teeth, if she was lucky.

Then she crooked a finger at her brother, inviting him into his own bed.

He smiled as his feet returned to the floor. His jeans fell to the floor in a fine powder, then his boxers did the same, revealing a nice length of pipe. She fretted at her lower lip as she studied its magnificence. He wasn't quite as big as Lance, but neither was he small. And Lance was so huge he sometimes hurt her. No more than she was willing to take, of course. She'd learned that their powers were remarkably effective at analgesia. But even so, she actually considered her brother's size perfect.

Yvette couldn't believe how nervous she felt as he climbed into bed with her. It had only been a matter of hours since they'd last coupled, but it seemed like a lot had happened since then. And in certain respects, Winter's hours weren't like other hours. Especially for neophytes such as themselves, who were still discovering their true bodies and what they could do with them. The rate things were going, they'd hardly recognize themselves by next week. She couldn't wait to see what her brother had learned from the queen.

And Lena, she supposed. Boo-hiss.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, you know," he said as he knelt towards her crotch.

"I know," Yvette replied, running her fingers through his hair. It felt like silk. She wondered if she'd like to see him grow it out. Long-haired guys had always looked a little silly to her, but maybe that was only because so few men knew how to keep their hair strong and healthy. That wouldn't be an issue for her brother, no matter how clueless he might be. Perfection came naturally to their kind. "You can if you want to, though."

Now it was his turn to say, "I know." He kissed the lace waistband of her panties. Then her mons, through the fabric. He paused to breathe in her smell then planted a trail of kisses up to her pierced navel, which he then tongue-fucked like it was a tiny vadge.

That made her giggle. And moan. Because wow. He either did something to his tongue or her body or both that made it feel like he was tending to parts farther south.

Just as she was about to cum, he stopped. "Relax."

"Is that an order?" Yvette asked, smiling.

"Yes."

Where had all this confidence come from? She supposed hearing a queen scream one's name might do the trick. Had he made an impression on Daphne? Or was it Lena stroking his ego? No, best not to think about it. All that mattered was that her sweet brother was coming out of his shell. That he was learning to assert himself without turning mean.

In time, she might stop feeling pulled in two different directions. She'd forget all about Lance, gladly surrendering all that she was to the only brother that mattered.

And their queen, of course.

Her most of all.

"Kind of hard to relax when someone gets me all worked up, then backs off just when I'm about to get my release," she said, giving one ear a reproachful squeeze.

"You think that's bad?" he asked.

Yvette groaned, throwing her head back against the mattress.

But at the same time, his words very nearly made her ejaculate. If a guy wasn't going to get rough, he damn sure better learn how to make his lover suffer through other means. And it sounded like her brother was aware of that.

In fact, he was pretty damn good at teasing.

He did indeed remove her underwear with his teeth. Then kissed his way up from her feet to her hips, worked her breasts for a while, then made his way down between her legs. Her poor nipples felt abandoned, but when he started working her vulva, she forgave the sleight. Soon enough, warm fingers were steadily working her G-spot while a cold tongue assaulted her clitoris, each frigid stroke causing her to gasp and shudder. Though he hadn't drawn things out too much, neither did he let her reach the desired end state. He brought her to the brink then eased her back a dozen times. By the third, she was whimpering pathetically. The fifth, pleading. The tenth, crying. Actual tears. But just as she thought he was going to deny her a thirteenth time, he guided her through the most amazing orgasm she'd ever experienced. Which was itself topped by several others in the hours that followed.

#

The next morning, a very satisfied but very sleepy Yvette descended the stairs from her brother's tower. Her feet were unsteady, her eyelids heavy, and her mind in a fog. But she was smiling from ear to ear. Her brother's style might be less kinky than she tended to prefer, but he sure knew what he was doing. In his capable hands, and beneath his cold tongue, she learned to appreciate the tender approach a whole lot more.

It wasn't until she nearly reached the stairs to her own tower that Yvette realized she was literally walking on air. That it hadn't just felt like that because her brother had released her from her corporeal form so many times. That made her giggle uncontrollably.

The giddy feeling went away when she reached her room.

"Good morning," her father said, quickly moving between her and the bed that called to her so insistently. "Hope you weren't planning on sleeping the day away."

"Mmmph," Yvette mumbled.

"You should make better use of your nights," he said. "For the foreseeable future, your days are going to be pretty busy." The cold expression on his face thawed, allowing something like sympathy to make a brief appearance. "Unfortunately, you came of age at a bad time."

"Why's that?"

"I'll explain later," he said, waving the comment away. "For now, it's time to learn some of the other ways we serve our mother."

She nodded. Every part of her was screaming out for sleep, but she dared not refuse.

"Take a minute to clean up and get dressed," he said.

"Can I shower?"

He gave her a skeptical look. Yvette knew there were more efficient ways of getting rid of the stink of sex, but a good cold shower would help her wake up.

"Fine. But be quick about it."

Without a word, she stripped down and padded over to the small bathroom. Despite her father's words, she took a little longer than necessary. But not much. No more than she thought she could get away with before rousing his temper.

Though it turned out she'd given him too much credit. The first thing he did after she returned was smack her across the face. He didn't even explain why. There was no need for him to. She knew. And he apparently knew that she knew.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, though only because he liked being called that.

"I don't want your apologies. I want you to do as you're told." He looked her up and down, face expressionless. Yvette suddenly felt ugly. There was no look of disgust on his face or anything, but the lack of desire spoke volumes.

Zach would never look at her like that.

Yvette clothed herself instantly, donning a pair of combat boots, black cargo pants, a blue tank top, and black fingerless gloves. Her black hair tied itself into a pony tail. What made her go militaristic, she wasn't sure. It's not like that made her any safer from the back of his hand. But the outfit nonetheless offered some measure of comfort.

"And don't call me that," Lance added. "Someone might hear you. I'm just your brother, remember? We're all brothers and sisters here."

She almost snorted. He should count himself lucky she'd called him that. Never again would she consider him above her in any way, let alone equal to Lady Winter.

He gave her a penetrating look but apparently judged her words sincere enough. "That's right. No one knows who their father is, because they don't need to. And we all have the same mother, no matter that some of her more loyal daughters have been allowed to give birth." He gave her another once over followed this time by an approving nod. She'd have preferred the naked Yvette to earn that reaction, but she'd take what she could get. "Learn a little obedience and you might too, one day. But we'll start with earning you the blue."

"Lips, you mean?" she asked.

The moment the words left her mouth, Yvette wished she could take them back. What else could he mean? A blue belt?

Lance glowered at her. No response came, verbal or otherwise. "You ready?"

"Yes," she said.

It wasn't easy, though. Because she was really turned on.

Or, part of her was. Had she thought Bad Yvette retired, just because she'd been quiet for one night? If it was possible to free herself of the dark impulses her darker half personified, it would take a lot more than that. Though her brother just might be the key to doing it.

"Actually, no, you're not," he said, pressing a knuckle against his lips as he visually inspected her. Then he snapped his fingers. A moment later, a pair of combat knives appeared in his hands. "These suit you."

Did they? Better than a fire poker, she supposed.

They were heavier than they looked, and they didn't look like they'd be light. From the tips of the wickedly curved black blades to the points of the blue crystals inset in the pommels, they were well over a foot long. The blades alone had to be close to ten inches.

"Thank you," she said.

He gave her a wolfish grin. Then went full wolf, turning into that towering monstrosity of white fur and yellowed claws that he favored so highly.

It wasn't until they reached the first cottage that he explained what they were doing. And they only did that after braving a steep and narrow trail down the mountainside and tramping through snow so deep Yvette couldn't have said when she'd have stopped sinking if she didn't follow her father's lead and make herself weightless. For the better part of two hours, silence hung over them, interrupted only by the occasional howl of wind so bitter that mere mortals would have found it deadly and inexperienced immortals still found rather unpleasant. Although that might only have been because she was so tired and had---willingly, yet unadvisedly---fed most of her energy to her brother the night before.

Before he spoke, though, he shifted back to the body of a man. And the first thing he said was that Yvette should put away her knives.

"Are we not here to administer the queen's justice?"

Her father, who she really had to start thinking of as her brother, snorted. "Justice. I don't know that she'd ever call it that. But no, the wetwork will come later."

A crystal vase appeared in his hands, containing a lovely arrangement of flowers. There were blue roses and white begonias, blue tulips and white daisies, carnations both blue and white, a single gigantic blue orchid, and lots of delicate baby's breath. Each and every one was more beautiful than any of its counterparts in what she'd once thought was the real world but now knew only as the Lodge. Some were larger, some simply more colorful or the petals more elaborate, but all were stunning. And quite fragrant. The same was true of the flowers in the palace, but Yvette realized she'd never really stopped to admire them.