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GAMBLE WITH FATE.COM

Shift of Power

© Coco Reed

“Will this be all?”

“Yes. Thank you very much.” The young mother-to-be smiled as she took the packages of wrapped herbs and handed the man money. He took her hand in his, feeling the soft skin of her wrist before letting her slip free. His black eyes sparkled as a smile came to him.

“Do take it easy, young one. Drink that tea whenever your morning sickness sets in, get plenty of rest, and stay on your healthy diet.” He pulled his black hair away from his face, tucking strands behind a pierced ear. “Remember, Claudia, your diet is important – eating for three and all.”

Claudia’s eyes widened once his words soaked in. Her hand drifted down to the mound in her belly. “Thank you again. Goodnight, Mr. Westreach.”

“Goodnight, my dear.” Lyre waved as she turned and scurried out of his shop, his home.

With a sigh he began dusting the counter. The pretty little redhead was his last customer for the night. He kept busy putting all the oils and tinctures back in order, the soaps and resins in their rightful places. The cases that held all of the handmade silver and stone jewelry were once again locked, not that he really feared thieves. Entering his den, he hummed as he cleaned up a bit. Guests were always so nosy, poking around at everything. Though really he did not mind. It was business.

He stopped fluffing his throw pillows and perked his ears up. Someone had come through his front door. He sighed again, glancing at the clock that read eleven forty-five. Some people ignored the CLOSED sign on the door and waltzed in if lights were still to be seen on the lower level of his large house. Smoothing his white tunic down and tossing his hair over his shoulder, he made his way back out to the shop, throwing the red velvet curtain over the door to the side. His steps slowed as he came to the middle of the room. He glanced about, frown marring his handsome features.

No one. Not a sound save for his own. Lyre narrowed his eyes, hackles rising as he took in his surroundings. Things were off; the silence too thick, the shadows choking. His black eyes reflected an iridescent green as his senses filled with the sweet scent of magic and power. A power not his own, deadly and seductive. He spun around; the candles earlier lit flickering about the room. Footsteps were muffled against the plush rugs in his den, yet it was not enough padding to stop the old wooden floor from creaking under the unknown weight.

Without any hesitation once he realized where his new guest was, Lyre set off toward his den. He was not in the habit of being afraid. Drawing the heavy curtain aside, his steps did falter for but a moment. A tall figure, as tall as his six feet and perhaps an inch shorter than his three, stood with their back to him. Long straight black hair ran down to a slender waist, flowing like a shining black-blue river. Turning to face him, the velvet red and black skirt swirled about, light catching on the black silk shrug. The frown and glare disappeared, melting into curiosity at the man standing before him.

A vertical slash going from his right forehead and down the left side of his face ending just beneath his left eye was the only thing he could see that marred smooth pale skin. Black eyes regarded him with amusement, studying him closely.

“This is unexpected, but not unwelcome, yet.” Lyre smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who are you?”

Placing his booted feet one in front of the other, the stranger leaned into a deep bow. “A humble guardian god of the Underworld.” He rose once again, smiling. “You may know me as Cory, All Father.”

“Lyre,” the god corrected. He frowned as his eyes found the silver platter on his coffee table empty, save for the crumbs. “You ate all my spice cake.”

Lyre sighed as the strange being shrugged, plopping down in a tempting heap on his couch. A second passed before a petite young woman walked into the room. She spared Cory a polite smile before looking to Lyre.

“Yes, Master?”

“I will need more sweets, Tilda.” He looked Cory over before settling his gaze on sparkling jet eyes. “Does my guest wish for anything else?”

Cory’s eyes lit up as he turned to her, kneeling on the couch and leaning toward her on the armrest. “Anything I desire?” When she nodded he bounced a bit. “Green tea Pocky, some spiced bubble tea, Twinkies – unwrapped and on the plate with everything else – and some little cakes with lots of colorful frosting that have “Eat me” written on them in sugar. Can you conjure me all that up, doll face?”

Lyre watched the pleased look come over his face as she nodded and went back the way she came. His guest certainly had a sweet tooth. “Are you on a sugar binge for a reason, sweet one?” He busied himself by pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

A shadow came into Cory’s eyes, immediately extinguishing the light there seconds before. “The wonders mortals create are a rarity where I am from. I like to stuff myself as much as I can stand when I’m on my jaunts away from home.”

“Why are you here?” It was all good and well, making pleasant with other gods, but Lyre was not one to fraternize often with them.

Cory turned his full attention to him, sliding his feet back to the floor. His eyes raked over Lyre’s entire body, mapping him out, remembering every detail. “Since I came into being, I have met many gods, many demons. I have harvested souls of the dead for millennium and many more to come. I’ve seen the homes of the great Elder gods, been invited to their parties, wars, and their beds, but I have never met the one they call All Father.”

Lyre shrugged, setting down the glass now drained. “I am not one to enjoy the society of the eternal. Long ago did I grow tired of their drama and lifestyle. Humans and their world are much more interesting in their unpredictability.”

“It does get rather dull.” Cory leaned back into the soft cushions, eyeing Tilda when she returned with a large tray.

Lyre waited until she left them alone before trying again at conversation. Try as he might to be indifferent, Cory fascinated him. Looks alone, the guardian had him nearly falling over himself. There was something else too. Already he was showing a strangeness that pulled Lyre in. Cory was playful and chipper one second, cold and quiet the next. Melancholy once again settled over him as he took up his cup of steaming tea. Lyre watched his pale, willowy hands encircle the mug, wishing to touch them. His skin looked soft, seeing little to no sun most of his days. Full, bow lips the color of rose quartz shaped an “o” as he blew on his drink. Still incredibly hot, Cory did not flinch as he downed the entire cup in one gulp. However he did shudder as the scalding brew ran down his throat. Lyre frowned once more as without a word the god stood.

“Why are you here?”

Cory walked up to him. Without a word he pulled him close, running his free hand through his hair. A smile came over his lips before he leaned in and kissed him. Lyre shivered, the god’s lips were freezing. A warmer tongue pushed into his mouth and he groaned, letting him inside to play. Cory released him to kiss along his neck and nibble on his ear.

“I am here because I have been haunted for the past eight thousand years,” Cory growled against his jugular, pausing in his sucking of the artery.

“What?” Lyre had to shake his head to think, lust clouding even his hearing. He hardly comprehended what was going on,

“You’re never around, Lyre. Never are you around for those that can understand what you are. You give your love to those with flames that burn out far too quickly. You gave your love to those that cannot appreciate the All Father’s gifts.”

“Cory—”

“I know you. For so long I have heard stories, been told by those few who actually remember you. I had only your stories to go by, until tonight.” Cory grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a hard, deep kiss.

Lyre groaned, pressing against the younger god. A thrill went down his spine as he felt his hard-on through his velvet skirt. He longed to rip their clothes away and explore the toned body he knew he would find beneath the thin layers of silk and rayon. Too eager was he to join together with the god. It had been nearly a month since he last had taken a lover. Their tongues moved against each other, slick and hot; breath coming in harsh gasps as they ground their hips together. He only stopped when he felt water like ice on his face. Lyre pulled back and felt his heart tighten, watching diamond tears slide down alabaster cheeks. Cory leaned into his warm touch as he wiped the liquid sadness away. Deep black eyes took on a sudden sparkle and Lyre found himself slammed onto the couch, breath knocked from his lungs.

Lyre’s eyes were wide, his breath coming in excited pants, but he readily took hold of Cory’s hips when he straddled him. Their kisses were slow but no less hard or hungry. Lyre kissed his neck before the god moved to trail kisses along the skin exposed with each opened button of his shirt. A smile came to Lyre. The death god tasted sweet and rich, like the sugar he constantly consumed. With little difficulty Lyre was half naked, pants riding dangerously low as they moved against each other.

“Eight thousand years I’ve waited, longed to show you my love.” Cory nuzzled his chest, a deep sadness coming into his eyes that made Lyre want to cut his own heart out if it meant destroying it. In a second it was gone and Cory was biting his chest.

Lyre threw his head back, closing his eyes in pleasure as a cool tongue licked his deliciously abused nipple. Teeth seemed to find all of his most sensitive spots. He threaded his hands through Cory’s thick hair, petting him with tender fondness as he lapped at his stomach. My, but the younger god was crazy! Lyre smiled, giving his hair a tug. It was only natural, he supposed, Cory did spend his eternity with the souls of the dead. Cory slipped lower, taking hold of his pants and pulling them down as he kissed along his way.

Pausing only to throw the clothes behind him, Cory returned to his work. Raging lust ignited in his lovely doe eyes as he looked at the god before him. Finally. He kneeled between his legs and wasted no time in leaning down to taste his prize. Better than any treat he had yet to try. Cory closed his eyes, humming in appreciation. His fantasies were not as good as this. The All Father was big and hot. Cory’s stomach fluttered at the thought of the scalding milk inside. He lifted up to taste the drop that formed on the swollen tip before rising.

With as much control as he could muster, Lyre remained in his spot. Tonight was not his dance to lead he felt and waited for his lover to finish what he started. He was so hard he hurt! It took a lot of his already small willpower to not grab Cory’s head and fuck his mouth. Such a beautiful and talented mouth! He wanted it back on his cock, wanted to spill inside his oddly cool and glorious mouth. He wanted his seed to drip from his lips. A groan escaped him as his cock twitched. His sexy, devious lover chose then to lift slender fingers to the black ribbon holding his shrug together.

The black silk fell from his body, leaving his chest visible. Broad shoulders and hard compact muscles. A few scars from battles long won littered his flesh. He was so pale his skin had a strange yet lovely blue tinge to it. Small dusky nipples stood out like pebbles against his chest. Cory was graceful and long-limbed; a svelte warrior from the land of the dead. A wicked, teasing smile came to him as he dropped his hands to the ribbons on his skirt. Intricate weaves of the silk was looped through metal rings on the sides, but he made short work of them. Lyre’s breath caught as he stepped out of the material pooling around his feet. Slender hips led to long legs encased in tight red vinyl. The chunky boots hugged all the way to mid-thigh, silver buckles and thick red straps all along them. Lyre’s mind swam with images of those legs wrapped around him as he pounded into his sweet body. However nice that would be, he was overflowed with lust when his eyes landed on the large and stiff cock bouncing between his legs as he walked back over to the couch.

Lyre gasped, grabbing the arm rest beneath his head as Cory kneeled onto the cushions once more and roughly took hold of his thighs and spread them wide. Cory raised one sculpted midnight blue eyebrow when he shuddered. “Your hands are freezing.”

“They’ll warm up,” Cory said, a boyish smile in place as he shoved hard into Lyre’s tight body.

They both cried out. Lyre screamed, biting Cory’s shoulder to distract from the pain. He was so full. Cory wasn’t moving, body trembling as they both grew used to the union. He sighed when Lyre pulled his teeth away, kissing and soothing the bleeding mark with his rough tongue. Without a word they deemed it time to move at the same time, grinding against the other. Cory bucked his hips in small, sharp movements, afraid anything more would make him spill. Lyre’s head fell back, his hands gripping Cory’s biceps hard, as he found his prostate quickly and was pushing steadily against it.

“Right there, my dark one.” He smirked, kissing him hard as Cory thrust into him. “Fuck me, little guardian. Make up for lost time.”

Cory snarled, pressing against him, wanting to make him scream again. He felt hot liquid slick between them, sweat and semen mixing to make a heady cocktail. This was all he ever wanted. To have this being beneath him, if only for a night, was his Heaven. Heat began to blossom through him and he laughed, thrusting harder and earning a choked moan. Cory hitched his legs around his waist and leaned over him farther. He couldn’t resist pulling Lyre’s head back, gripping his soft hair tight, and licking along his neck.

All too soon he felt the end nearing, though they had been tangled around each other and rutting away for an hour or so. Cory wrapped his hand around Lyre’s cock, stroking hard and fast. Lyre cried out, moving with his motion, wanting release. Arching up, Lyre hollered, eyes glazing over as he came. Long spurts of pearly liquid coated his stomach, a drop or two landing on his neck. Cory licked it off, crying out at the beautiful feeling of the god’s insides crushing around his dick.

“I fucking love you,” he hissed, hips snapping forward until every drop of his orgasm was drained into Lyre.

The All Father hummed, smiling at the death god’s words. He trailed his hands up and down his creamy back. Hot breath fanned against his neck. An incredible fuck from an incredible new lover. His life was good. He frowned when Cory snatched the throw from the floor and wiped them off with it before tossing it over his shoulder to who knew where, but couldn’t find it in himself to care too much. He combed through his damp hair with his fingers as Cory pressed further against him.

“You’re warm.”

“So are you.” Lyre smiled, kissing his head. He groaned, feeling Cory’s half-hard penis against his awakening erection. “Come up to my room, moonbeam.” He enjoyed the way Cory shivered as he whispered against his ear.

“Anything for you,” Cory said as he kissed him, smiling against his swollen lips. “After I have my food.” With that he was up and stretching, making his way over to the overflowing platter of sweets.

Lyre collapsed back onto the couch, frowning and naked as his unexpected but definitely not unwelcome guest chose Twinkies over him.

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