The Wellspring (23 page)

She moaned softly as Marc continued to lick
her. Each slow, deliberate swipe of wetness made her body tremble
with pleasure. And when he curled his tongue into a point and
jabbed it into her drenched entrance Yule thought that she was one
step closer to death—or rebirth. She squeezed her eyes shut again,
unable to help it, gritting her teeth against the maddening
tickling-good sensation of that tiny, concentrated invasion. She
found herself involuntarily trying to push back, wanting him
deeper, needing him to satisfy the ache the way only he could. When
the tongue at her entrance disappeared, Yule collapsed onto the
ground with a combination of relief and disappointment.

Neither of which she was allowed to endure
for long.

Marc was above her again, the blunt head of
his member replacing his tongue, nestling just between her outer
folds. "Relax for me, love. I'm going to make you feel even better,
I promise, but there might be a moment of pain."

Yule did her best, remembering the man's
considerable size, but fear still squeezed her stomach as the
pressure increased against her. Her thighs tried to close even as
she wanted what he was doing, but her held her spread and still,
hands gentle and commanding. With a harsh groan, Marc flexed his
hips and pierced the tight outer ring of yielding muscle and bit
through the thin membrane of her hymen. The slide inside her slick
channel was easy after that. And the rhythm of the heart—what
heart—grew stronger and ever louder.

Yule shuddered at the incredible sensation of
stretching—of fullness. She felt taken over, breached, invaded. Her
body surrendered to Marc, immediately forgetting the brief pain she
expected and savoring the penetration. She pushed toward him with
her hips, needing to feel the thick flesh slide within her, and
when it pulsed against the confines of her inner walls she
moaned.

"Do you like the feel of me inside you?" Marc
asked with a raspy, barely controlled tease, his lips playing with
the curve of Yule's ear.

"Yes," she managed weakly, thinking that was
a silly question. "Oh, yes."

"You feel so incredible, Yule, so damned
tight around me. All I want to do is bury myself deep inside you
and never come out. How would you like that, love? Having me inside
your beautiful body ready to—" He flexed his hips hard. "Pleasure
you whenever you wanted it?"

"Oh, Goddess," Yule whimpered, pulling up
fistfuls of fragrant moss. "Please, Marc—I don’t know what I want
you to do, but whatever it is, do it now!" She had invoked the
Goddess, why? She didn’t think it was simply a cry of ecstasy, she
had a suspicion it was a true invocation—a cry to the Goddess to
turn her eyes upon them and bear witness—to what?

Marc was laughing softly at her desperation.
"I might have an idea. Something like this?" He pulled back until
he was nearly free of her tight confines then surged forward in a
smooth, commanding stroke. His erection dragged over her nub then
bumped into something deep within Yule that briefly turned her
vision white and sun-spotted. She cried out, arching against that
explosion of electric like ecstasy. "That's where the pleasure
hides," Marc murmured, his voice taking on a note of strain. "Let
me show it to you again."

He began to piston into her rhythmically,
slowly at first, each sure stroke striking that place inside her
that had Yule writhing beneath him as if she were trying to escape
the very thing for which she begged. Time and again Marc filled her
only to empty her once more, like the tide rushing onto the shores
of Atlantis.
Atlantis
! Something stirred in her memory and
pulsed in the ground beneath her back. Each ebb and flow left Yule
panting in an agony of need and she returned the torture the only
way she knew how, tightening her inner muscles, trying to milk the
hard flesh that impaled her. Marc was relentless atop her, his
rhythm calculated to bring Yule to the peak of desire as slowly as
possible, to draw out the moment into eternity.

Yule’s head rolled from side to side on the
moss while the pulse of her home joined the throbbing in her chest
and between her thighs. She instinctively ground her hips against
him each time he buried himself to the hilt in her heat and she
smiled in satisfaction at his gasps of pleasure.

“Oh, Goddess, I feel it!” She could feel the
heartbeat of Atlantis surrounding them, seeping into her skin, and
wondered if Marc felt it too. The harder Marc pumped into her, the
deeper he pushed Yule into the living core of Atlantis where the
source of all— All what? She didn’t know, she grit her teeth
against the pressure building inside her body, suddenly frightened
of what was happening.

“It’s all right, Yule, it’s all right,” she
heard his ragged voice assure her as if from a distance. “I’m right
here with you. Open your eyes, my love. Open them and see me.”

His love! Her green eyes snapped wide at that
and she saw him smiling down at her, but only for a moment. His
muscular arms slipped around her and drew her up as her sat back in
a kneeling position, her thighs spread wide across his lap, length
still embedded in her fiery depths.

“It’s the Heart,” she struggled to tell him
as her dream rushed back to her like the wave of an incoming tide.
“It’s the Heart of Atlantis! Don’t you feel it?”

“The heart of Atlantis is far away, beloved.
It’s hidden deep in Shangrilonn, you can’t possibly—” But he broke
off and she could see the reason in his eyes. He did hear it! He
felt it too and she suddenly laughed.

“It’s everywhere, Marc! The Eye sees every
magic place and the Heart beats in all magic folk in the
world!”

His mouth savaged hers, calloused fingertips
stroking her shoulders and the muscles alongside her spine as she
strained against the forces working inside her. His lips moved to
her neck, sharp teeth closing on tender skin and gently biting. She
panted and dropped her head on his shoulder as the thrusts into her
body grew more forceful, their rhythm irregular. Yule moaned
despairingly as Marc slammed into her again and again, uncertain
she could resist the urge to—scream? She didn’t know what exactly,
explode maybe, but whatever it was she didn't think she could take
any more. The pressure was becoming too much and—

“Please, baby, please come!” Marc begged, his
breath short and harsh, hinting at a desperate kind of amusement.
“I don’t know how much longer I can wait for you!”

Wait for her? But she was right here. “I’m
right here!” she gasped, drawing back just enough to look into his
dark green, sparkling eyes.

“Open up, baby. Lose control. It’s okay. I’ve
got you,” he promised her again, clutching her body to his as his
hips jerked spasmodically upward and she suddenly thought she knew
exactly who he was and precisely what they were doing—and the
heartbeat of Atlantis swelled in her ears as the feeling in her
core swelled and spread through her body—

And suddenly it all made sense! She was never
meant to be one of the multitude of spell-casters in the world.
Having power wasn’t as important as what she was meant to do—what
they were meant to do together! Her dream tried to reveal it to
her, but she wasn’t ready to see the truth. When she and Prosser
fell from the cliff she gave him power to raise them to safety. She
could give power to the world!

“I’m ready now!” she cried with elation,
laughing as unsurpassed joy surged through her body and her eyes
met Marc’s.

“Yule?” the ecstasy on his face was mirrored
in the tenor of his question as her clarity and sense of purpose
consumed him—transformed them both.

“Goddess! You’re the Font and I—I am the
Wellspring!”

The Eye opened and the Heart pounded, magic
folk looked up from every place in the world and briefly wondered
who looked upon them and what sound thundered across the sky,
through the wind, and into their very beings. Fiore Grove exploded
with light and power that rivaled the sun under which it
basked—

And magic filled the world once more.

—END—