Chapter 44: My Lover Dearest: Eyes In The Trees
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Disclaimer: The first part of the following chapter contains a high amount of MM smut. If you want to skip it, you can skim through it and find the part that continues onward the story. You have been warned.
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The spray of the waterfall's shower was surprisingly warm against Max's skin. It wettenned his long auburn hair and felt both refreshing and revitalizing to his sore muscles — Almost supernaturally so.
'No, definitely supernaturally so,' some part of Maximus realised. 'This water is enchanted. Likely to make energy recovery swift and relaxation assured. How quaint.'
But Max — the majority of him — was not really focused on that.
The moment he got in the water directly before this beautiful Adonis, Barshamsha cupped his face tenderly, his palm warm enough to get Max start purring.
"I have waited 2,000 years to physically see your face, my beloved," Barshamsha said, boring his beautiful brown eyes into Max with an intensity that made Max's loins warm with need. "As the most powerful psychic and seer alive in the last 2,000 years, one of the greatest curses bestowed upon me was seeing you long before you or even your great-great-great grandparents were even a possibility of thought, let alone you.
"I've seen so much of you, of your life — lives, both this one and the one before — that I am certain I know you just as well as you know yourself — Maybe better.
"I know you fear losing who you've grown to hold deer to your heart — Both the lovers you've grown attached to and the family you've grown to care for. And I know I can't change that fear alone by myself — and I won't try to. But, to be part of that list of loved ones, whether as a concubine or a lover you've chosen to complete you would be my utmost honor, my lover dearest."
Max rested a palm over Barshamsha's cheek, boring his own hazel eyes into Bar's beautiful brown, as he spoke. "Are you sure you want this? Once I claim you, I have no intentions of ever letting you belong to anyone else — You'll never have freedom, never have independence, never have individuality or even agency. You'll be forever mine — Mine to fuck, mine to ride, mine to breed and mine to love. Is this really want you want, Bar? Tell me now, or, I swear to all the gods across all the omniverse, you'll never get the chance to again."
"This is most definitely what I desire, my lover," Barshamsha said in answer, and Max nearly came upon the sight of it alone. Then his next words nearly sent Max off the cliff. "I'm yours. Solely and only yours. Always."
That did it.
'Fuck it,' Max thought. 'Fine. I've decided. Before I let him fuck me, I'm obliterating him. He knows what he's doing.'
Max wasted no more time.
Learning forward, he claimed Barshamsha's lips in a dance of dominance, rough and uncushoned. He bit and pulled and demanded entry into the warmth that was Barshamsha's mouth.
He forced Barshamsha against the wall, never once breaking the dance of lips and tongues. As he did so, he bit at the psychic/witch traveller's ear, neck and jaw, causing Bar to gasp in pure ecstasy, as Max grasped Barshamsha's 11 inch rod in his hand, jerking roughly it roughly, purposely at hard, sharp and painful angles — All of which just made Bar needier, thrusting in Max's palm like a hound in a rut.
Max used his biokinesis to make sure Bar will be painfully hard constantly, unable to even release until he gave him verbal permission to.
Then, forcing Barshamsha to turn around, having him use both hands to grasp the waterfall's wall, Max used biokinesis to both make Barshamsha's ass release a naturally occurring, sweet to the taste slick. Clear and fluid, and made the psychic-witch's body 2-x more sensitive and responsive to his touch than normal.
He spread Bar's cheeks and dove face first into the virgin tight, slick soaked hole, devouring the eager hole like a man starved.
"Oh, gods!" Barshamsha moaned out, clearly dazed in unfathomable pleasure, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pure ecstasy. He rolled his hips back to meet Max's mining tongue, allowing Max to taste more of his divine ichor. "Please!"
Max was certain the man didn't even know what he was begging for — Just that he needed it, whatever 'it' was. But Max knew what it was he needed and Max was more than willing to give it to him. He'd be a bastard not to.
Standing, Max inserted a finger, circling the heat of the man's hole, working him open beneath his touch. Barshamsha was bigger than Max — muscle-wise, anyway. Where Max was ultra lean with mild bulk, Bar was also lean but with visible bulk that somehow still passed for a sleep build at once.
But, beneath Max, he was just a bitch. Max's bitch. Max's big, beautiful, breathtaking bitch. And Max was devouring the sight of such an Adonis.
He added a second finger sometime later, and began fingering. Bar moaned and bucked backwards beneath his ministrations, but Max continued regardless. Then, when he added a third, as Bar's moans began intensifying, Max began scissoring in two three different directions, causing Bar to feel an unbelievable amount of ecstasy.
After working Bar open, Max angled his 9 incher to Bar's winking gape before slowly pushing past Barshamsha's ring of muscle and into the warmth of his hole, causing both Bar to gasp and himself to groan at the heated tightness.
"Fuck…you're so damn tight," Max groaned out with a roll of his hips.
"Welll, I was quite literally a virgin 10 minutes ago," Barshamsha snarked back, but, after Max rolled his hips in place, hitting a particular angle, Bar couldn't help but gasp as he saw white.
CLAP!
CLAP!
CLAP!
CLAP!
Max quickly found a rhythm, thrusting deep, pulling out to the tip and thrusting in again, before doing it all over again. He ensured he hit that g-spot everytime, relentlessly and without mercy. He wanted — no, he needed — Barshamsha to know his place, and that was under Max's thumb.
CLAP!
CLAP!
CLAP!
CLAP!
Max entered a punishing pace, not really caring for Bar's comforts — And Barshamsha just let him, pliant and sensitive. Max was certain Bar wouldn't be able to walk after this evening, at least for at least a week and definitely not properly for a couple of days.
SMACK!
As he drilled into the warlock, Mac smacked Barshamsha's bubbulous cheeks, enjoying the way Bar moaned out in pure ecstasy.
CLAP!
CLAP!
CLAP!
The pace of Mac's fucking was brutal and unforgiving. In fact, he was using some of his werewolf speed and strength as he fucked into Bar. Any other human would pass out at the speed he was fucking him or even the force of his fucking — But Bar's physiology was different because of his natural immortality.
Max leaned into the back and neck of Barshmsha, inhaling his scent and memorizing its delicacy — slightly fruity with an oily-tang mixed with a natural, masculine finish that was more richly masculine in aroma than most male scents could even produce even during a workout. It was so mouthwatering to Maximus — so instinct provoking that Max felt his fangs drop from his gums automatically after inhalation, and, before he could stop himself, bite into Barshamsha's shoulder, piercing the skin pretty deeply even as Bar release a slightly startled scream.
It was random and completely uncouth, but the scent of men did something to Max's mind. It did something primal. Instinctive. It made him crave. Want. desire to have. To bite. To taste.
At this point, some part of Max became certain that he was no longer just a human. That the scent of males shouldn't have this effect on him. That the chances of him having become an entirely new being from what he used to be was damn near certain.
But he filed that thought away for later contemplation.
Instead, he licked at the wound, noticing how much more aroused Barshamsha had become. Instead of horrified or in pain, he was aroused. The thought that his bite could make someone aroused required further study, no doubt. Did it work on all humans? Or just males?
Max de-latched his fangs, licking the blood away and licking at the already bruising wound — All the while he fucked his fated mate senselessly.
Max grabbed the bottom of Bar's ankles, lifted him higher and firmer against the waterfall wall, and fucked him at an even more brutal pace, sharp and unforgiving. He made sure to hit that sweet spot at an entirely different angle with each stroke, sending Bar completely insane.
And, when Max came inside Bar, he came in torrential showers, blessing Bar's beautifully wrecked hole deep with his potent unholy seed — In gallons.
All the while Bar still wasn't able to nut — Max hadn't given him verbal permission to. It was glorious… For Max, anyway.
SQUELCH!
Max slowly pulled out of Barshamsha with a lewd squelch that expressed just how much milk was deposited into his hole. Max had even used his biokinesis to ensure Bar's body had a natural ability to plug milk on its own. It was ingenious, honestly.
"Where;s your bed?" Max demanded and allowed Bar to lead him through the wide chamber, down a series of corridors and into an even larger chamber that acted as a bed room, with all the necessities, including a bed, a dresser, a closet, etc.
And, without ceremony, Max tossed Bar effortlessly unto the bed, face first, ass up and mounted atop behind him. Linining himself up, he resumed fucking the son of his most power ancestor without mercy…
[In Another Dimension]:
Meanwhile, in another dimension, the Hand of Nature and its members were discussing him and the issues he represented.
"We had the Paranoid Witch send wolves to put him in his place," a cloaked shadow said. "It failed."
"Qetsiyah herself is also now dead," the next shadow expressed. "The boy is exceptionally powerful and incredibly dangerous."
There were nine shadows present, and each wielded power equal to or greater than Qetsiyah.
"We will have another opportunity to strike," a third shadow said. "We always do. It is only a matter of time."
"He's a sword swallower, so maybe we should get through to him by way of one of the men he collects?" a fourth suggested. "It would be poetic justice."
This caused a debate to overtake the group. They debated a variety of ways to handle this newly reincarnated soul that's become a thorn to their organization — all the while the top three shadows kept their silence.
Until one of them — the third strongest — finally spoke.
"Three of you will be dispatched to force him into submission or just kill him — Use any tactic at your disposal. As Enforcers, you will achieve victory, for failure results in your ultimate... demise," Third spoke. "The boy has rewritten the timeline to horrendous levels. His subjugation is necessary. 7, 8 and 9, this is your mission. Do not fail the Order. Do NOT fail me."
"Yes," they bowed, before vanishing.
Soon after, 4, 5 and 6 also vanished, leaving the top 3 to their own devices.
"How certain are you in victory?" Number Two said.
"82% certain," Number 3 stated. "7, 8 and 9 work quite well together. Their individual power alone are on par with Silas and Qetsiyah. Together? There's no one their equal... Aside from those above them in the Order, of course."
He had a sneaking suspicion that they might not be enough.
Number One said nothing.
[Back At Barshamsha's Place]:
"So, what is this place?" Max asked, laying on the queen bed after 3 whole rounds of clapping Barshamsha's cheeks. From where he lay off Bar's arm, Max could see Bar's hairy pits, its mesmerizing scent making its way to Max's nose, causing the Omega Pheromone Rune to stir. Thankfully, the Rune of Resistance kept it at bay.
Bar thought of it to be a simple cave midway up Mount Logan, but most Canadian mountains don't have this type of sandstone, let alone like this and most definitely doesn't have a paradise outside its temple — a very real paradise with a very real sun and a very real moon, mind you.
Bar chuckled.
"Yes, this is a real place — as real as your dimension, in fact. It is my dimension — an infinite passage sandstone temple Mother and I constructed to act as my home. Bar's old eyes briefly darkened. "And my prison."
Max, who was beginning to realise that he might not have all of Qetsiyah's memories — Or, at least, some of the more vital ones must've been sealed off even from the likes of him even despite her total and absolute assimilation, looked to Bar. "Prison?"
"They say nature always finds a way to make balance... that no being is supposed to be truly immortal," Bar began. "But I am. I was born immortal. An immortal psychic-witch traveller whose power as both a witch-traveller and an immortal psychic is more than twice the power of either parents. How do you balance that kind of power?"
Max said nothing, but his face asked the question his lips wouldn't vocalize: How?
"By making it so I could never walk the Earth physically," Barshamsha explained, eyes a daze. "Toxic air. Thorned earth. Crystalizing form. Those sort of things. They occur to me when I'm on Earth too long, so this place — this dimension — is my home. I can see all that has occurred after my birth thanks to its state of being existing outside of space and time. But I can't touch anyone, or talk to no one who isn't in here with me. A most cruel curse."
A silence passed over them as Max digested this. Rage ignited within him at this revelation. 'How dare this happen to my Bar?' he thought in rage. 'The audacity.'
Max breathed out through his nose, willing himself to calm. He knew pointlessly getting emotional will help no one. He needed to be analytical about this.
He knew there was always loopholes to TVD magic. And he had the perfect one. He just needed permission.
"I can link this dimension to my own and you'd be able to traverse both and interact with any being in either. You'll even be able to astral project unto Earth without consequence — At least until I figure out how to remove your curse," Max offered. "What do you say?"
Barshamsha smiled his gorgeous smile. "I'd like that. I would really like that."
And that was all the permission that Max required. He immediately went to work.
[Elsewhere]:
Meanwhile, at Westphall Manor in Mystic Falls, just outside property, a trio of cloaked figures stood on the shrouded branches of trees nearby invisible, as they watched a strolling Kaleb walk around the property by himself.
"He is useful to the plot with little to no purpose other than being meat in a world of witches and bloodsuckers," one cloak noted.
"He's also cherished by our target," another stated. "Ending him will serve both as a message and a beacon."
"That is perfect," the leader spoke at last. "Let us begin then."
Wordlessly, and faster than any newborn vampire could move, the cloaked figures vanished.
Less than 30 minutes later, Max will feel it before he receives the call, but, by then, it will have already been too late.