Part Two: The Great Lady Vera was dozing when she heard the lock tumble into place as Evander left for his morning run. She stretched, pointing her toes and flexing her arms until her body arched, each muscle delighting in the release. There was no hurry for her, no obligations to meet. She curled onto her side, reaching through the breath of space that separated her body from Sam’s, and traced his features with the barest brush of her finger. She followed the sweep of his brow downward stopping to caress the plateau of bronze skin along his sharp cheekbone.she thought,. His full lips were parted and slack, too lush to resist. Vera leaned in and licked at the cupid’s bow of his upper lip. Sam’s nose crinkled. He swatted at the sensation, his hand clumsy with sleep, and landed a glancing blow off his own chin. Vera giggled and moved back in to tease his lips with her tongue. She allowed her mouth to explore, venturing from his lips down and along the stubble on the blade of his jaw. Sam groaned, a low rumble that started deep in his chest and ignited a flare of heat in Vera’s core. He reached for her and she slid into his arms, rolling until she was on top of him. His hands slid from her bare shoulders down to the curve of her ass and a shiver of excitement followed in the wake of his touch. “I don’t suppose you’re going to let me sleep, huh?” he said. “You’re smart, what do you think?” Vera legs fell to either side of his hips. Her nether-lips parted, the wetness at her center painting his cock with her heat. The friction pulled a delicious growl from Vera. It was like the purr of a large cat, unrestrained and wild, a sound reserved for Sam and Evander. The power borne of their devotion, the history and strength of it, was all part of their magic. The energy raised when they made love was often given in tribute to the elementals, goddesses, and gods on both sides of the Sacred Passage. It was their honor and pleasure to give of themselves, but the passion between them in these private moments was theirs, and their alone. Vera pressed her hands down into the mattress on either side of Sam’s head and lifted herself up, moving forward, until her breasts hovered over his mouth. Sam’s tongue snaked out to tease at her nipple and she jerked his prize away. He whined. “Hush,” she flicked his nose with a finger, “What’s your color, sweet boy?” Sam thrust his hard prick against her, the head gliding over her clit, “Green.” “That’s my pretty,” she crooned, caressing his cheek. She leaned upward once again and teased his lips with a taut nipple. “Suck it, puppy,” she commanded. Sam went lax beneath her, suckling one breast and then the other, allowing himself to be moved and molded until he was seated with his back to their headboard. Vera knelt over him, carding her hands through his hair, the thick waves flowing between the fingers of one hand while she teased the pearl of her clit with the other. “You’re so hard for me already aren’t you, my beautiful pet?” she panted, showering Sam with praise. Sam’s hips made an aborted thrust and the tip of his cock brushed against the opening to her womanhood. The hand that was bathed in her own wetness shot up and grabbed his chin. “Don’t. Rush. Me. Puppy.” Sam’s eyes turned downward. Vera tightened her grip before taking his mouth in a searing kiss. The sound of his whine filled her with delight. A beautiful pliancy came over Sam in those moments when he gave himself up and trusted his lovers to be the tether that allowed him to fly without floating away. “I’m going to ride you, puppy, and if you come before I tell you to, I’m going to put this gorgeous cock in a cage for the rest of the day.” She squeezed her hand around his length, pressing her thumbnail into his slit just enough to sting. “Are we clear?” “Crystal, my Queen,” Sam panted. “Good.” Vera chuckled and impaled herself on Sam’s cock. Sam was dozing again when Vera slid out of bed and shrugged into his robe. Like Evander, Sam was tall but where her Guardian was broad, Sam was slender as a willow wand. The result was a robe that hugged Vera’s curves and dragged on the floor behind her, like a cape. It smelled of sandalwood and cinnamon and she stopped here and there in her unhurried morning routine to bring the wide collar to her face and bathe in his scent. Vera reveled in the sumptuous lassitude of body and mind that followed her two spectacular orgasms. Her muscles were loose, free from the tension that accompanied her role as High Votaress. As Vera filled the tub with steaming water, she allowed her thoughts and recollections to come and go, one after the other, like clouds racing across the sky on a fall day. She addeddrops of neroli oil and rose to the water, the spicy-sweetness of the scent conjuring a vision of the climbing roses in the Temple Gardens. Their blooms always tempted her, even though she had plucked her fingers on their thorns time and again. When she was a girl, it was impossible to pass by those trellises of blazing scarlet and gold without stopping. Their fragrance always carried her back to the memory of the day she met Sam and Evander. She slowed the current of her thoughts and held the vision still to examine it, turning it this way and that, like an archeologist unearthing a precious artifact. Vera, Sam, and Evander were bonded together as magical companions in a joining ceremony that took place six months from the day they had met in Lady Petra’s Receiving Room. The love between them flourished, though Vera hid the romantic regard that grew for them both as time marched forward. She had refused to upset the balance of a relationship that had survived time and death. Three years later, it was Lady Petra’s last wish that Vera open her eyes to the possibility of what the three of them could become together. A bitter-sweet smile stretched across Vera’s lips. That day had brought her so many lessons. She filled the kettle and set it on the stove, remembering the way Sam and Evander had taught her what pleasure could be wrung from her own flesh. Then later that same day she had learned the weight of sorrow which she could bear without breaking. The Pronoe River raced in its banks, its surface a roiling torrent of murky brown water. The sky was smudged in shades of ash, like the remnants of a long dead fire, except where streaks of red from the rising sun painted the horizon. The thought sent tendrils of chill snaking down Vera’s spine. She looked out toward the riverside path, hoping Evander had the sense to be back from his run before the rain started.
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