The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 49

Fao grabbed Niall's braid and tugged at it, making him lean closer, intensifying the kiss, devouring Niall's mouth with his. He pulled Niall's braid over his shoulder, moved his fingers blindly down its end to the clasp and managed to rip it off the braid without breaking the kiss. Niall pushed him away, breathing hard, looking down at him, his eyes wild, desperate. He bowed his head and unbraided his braid with his own hands. His braid, which had been so costly to him, as Fao correctly noted. Which almost no one in his one hundred and twenty-two years had seen unbraided. He shook his head. The new-fashioned manner of braiding 'salmon's tail' came apart into twisted strips, the strips came apart into strands, and his hair covered him like a silver cloak.

His braid reached his waist, and his loose hair would probably reach his thighs if he stood up and combed it properly. Now they covered Niall's back and pooled up on the bed like a silver pond.

By Danu, how uncomfortable. Niall had long been accustomed to the braid's weight at the back of his head, to the way it went down his spine, the way the element of lightning run through it into his body. Loose hair was the opposite of composure, it was un-readiness for action. He still felt his element, but it was weaker: a mass of tiny streams, not a one united and powerful, as usual. If he cast a lightning charge now, his hair would become electrified, standing on end, and what a spectacle that would be! As a child, when he just started tucking his hair behind his ears and couldn't braid it yet, it had happened a couple of times. And the first time he stupidly run to the mirror and looked. He laughed so hard that his stomach hurt.

Now there was nothing funny in his appearance. There was admiration now in the barbarian's eyes. No longer a light, fleeting glimpse, as during the negotiations. No, Fao looked like a thirsty man looks at water, as if his eyes were able to drink, to absorb the beauty of what he saw.

Niall even felt embarrassed and lowered his eyes for a moment, unable to withstand that look. He had never been considered a model of male beauty among the Tuatha Dé Danann (and neither had his father). He never intentionally sought new bed partners; never strived to ensure that, as the bards put it, the shadow of one lover fell on another. However, those who wanted to seduce the young Lord of Lightning, for some reason, had been always in abundance. Maybe because he was always aloof and reserved?

Fao put his hand around Niall's neck, pulled him closer and kissed him — not as greedily and furiously, as before, but gently, skillfully, knowing perfectly what he was doing. He flipped Niall on his back, and the silver-white hair of the Lord of Lightning spilled beautifully over the furs. Fao sighed noisily and froze for a moment, admiring the view. Why would Niall need any spells, the mortal was totally spellbound by the mere fact that a Lord of the Tuatha Dé was laying in his bed willingly!

"If the Sidhe were ugly, you probably wouldn't be so eager to invade Mag Tuired!" Niall said, still with slight, but distinctive venom in his voice.

"Magic can't be ugly," Fao replied, kissed him again and slid his hands over his body. His caress was also very skillful. Niall sighed too and bit his lip as the barbarian's fingers wrapped around his cock. Why did he bother to pretend anyway, if he already had a full erection? "Look at kirins."

"I've seen some very ugly specimens during my journey," Niall quipped, and broke into a moan as the barbarian leaned over his cock and took it into his mouth.

Oh, how good he was at it, and somewhere on the periphery of Niall's mind, clouded by lust, the thought flashed: "Who did he learn from? I should find those teachers... and rip their guts out!"

It seemed that Niall fell out of reality for some time under the caress of Fao's hot mouth, because then it suddenly turned out that the barbarian had already undressed, settled down between his parted legs and was stretching him, shamelessly licking his fingers.