[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Fantasy Romance, M/M, HEA]
Stavros Siracusa travels the world collecting antiques and artifacts that are hard to find. He's built a reputation as the go-to man when someone is looking for something specific. But he had no idea he would find a gargoyle statue at a garden party in his own hometown that would change his entire world.
When sorcery interferes in finding his Beloved, Xander willingly allows the Gods of Olympus to place him in hibernation as a stone statue. A drop of his Beloved’s blood and the strong beat of his heart draws Xander from his deep slumber and tosses him into a world that is more dangerous than any battle he has ever fought.
Armed with the knowledge that they were meant to be together, Stavros and Xander accept the fate of the Gods. But the Brotherhood is up to their old tricks and betrayal will come from within, tearing the two lovers apart. When Stavros gets kidnapped, Xander isn’t even sure the Gods can save the most precious thing in his world—his Beloved.
A Siren Erotic Romance
“The Battle of Hirmera was bloody, but our warriors made it through. Our temples still stand strong.”
Lachesis smiled as she remembered the words her cousin had told her and her sisters, regaling them with tales of bravery. The battle had been a long one, a bloody one. They had lost many people on both sides, both warriors and innocents. But the battle was over and it was once again time to count their blessings and weave the fabric of time.
Lachesis’s sister Clotho, one of the three spinners of fate, sat besideLachesis singing of the things that are as she spun and weaved the threads of life on her spindle for the latest soul placed in her keeping. It was a duty given to Lachesis and her sisters before time began by their father, Zeus, and one they did with a steadfast dedication.
Lachesis sang of the things that were as she measured the threads woven by Clotho. It was her job to measure the thread of life allotted to each person with her measuring rod, choosing the lot in life a mortal would have and measuring off how long that life would be.
Beside them both sat Atropos, singing of the things that are to be as she cut the threads of life. She chose the manner of each person’s death, and when their time came, she cut their life-thread with “her abhorred shears.”
They were the Moirai sisters, the Three Hands of Fate. They controlled the threads of life of every mortal from birth until death. At the moment of birth, they spun the threads of destiny, because birth ordained death. They gave mortals at birth both evil and good moments, determining when they were brought into the world, and when they left.
Lachesis reached for another length of thread from her sister’s basket. Clotho had chosen the souls from the abyss and woven them into her threads then entwined the two life threads together. Once she was done, she placed the threads into a basket, and then it was Lachesis’s turn.
Lachesis drew the two long threads out and measured them, checking for consistency between the entwined life spans. After a recent experience where two soul mates who should have been born during the same time period, but were separated by sorcery, they were being especially vigilant.
Very few times in the history of man had there been a snag in the fabric of time—the fall of Babylon, Pompeii, the Black Plague, the two great wars that had covered the entire surface of the world, numerous earthquakes and tsunamis, and chia pets, just to name a few.
And every time, mischievous and often evil forces had been at work.
Lachesis hummed happily as she smoothed the entwined threads between her fingers, and then stretched them out along her measuring rod. As she went to measure the segment, choosing the length of time the mortals would live, the two threads unraveled, separating.
Lachesis blinked in bewilderment. That had never happened before, not even when Mount Vesuvius erupted in AD 79. That had been a complete disaster, with over 16,000 people dying. Natural disasters happened. It was a fact of life. But the eruption of Mount Vesuvius had been caused by sorcery.
Lachesis pulled the two threads together and stretched them out along her measuring rod. The second she let go of them, they fell apart again. Lachesis swallowed hard as she lifted the two threads into her hand.
“Sister, did you entwine these two threads?”
Clotho leaned over, peering down at the two red threads. “Did you pull them from my basket?”
“Then I entwined them.” Clotho grabbed the two threads and spun them around in her hands. “What did you do to them?”
“I have done nothing to them!” Lachesis clenched her jaw so she wouldn’t snap at her sister. This was not Clotho’s fault. “I picked them out of your basket and stretched them along my measuring rod. The moment I let go of them, they simply fell apart.”
“Hmm.” Clotho wrapped both threads on her spindle and started spinning them again. Once both threads were entwined again, she unwrapped them and handed them back to Lachesis. “Here, this should do it.”
Maybe it had just been an accident.
Lachesis took the entwined threads and stretched them out along her measuring rod. The moment she let go of them, the two threads started to unwind and fall apart. “Sister!”
“I don’t understand,” Clotho said. “I’ve spun them twice. There is no reason why they should not stay together. They are destined soul mates.”
“There is only one Beloved for me, Stavros, and you are him. There will be no other for me.” Xander saw a tremor touched Stavros’s smooth, marble-like lips. He moved in closer, mere inches from Stavros. “I will never want another, Stavros, only you. I will never be unfaithful, never leave. My only purpose in life now is to see to your health and safety.”
He rolled Stavros under him, staring down into his Beloved’s liquid eyes. “If I ask, will you accept?” There, he put it out there. If Stavros said no, he would wait. Stavros was worth it. “Wow, that’s…uh…” Stavros’s tongue slid across his trembling lips. “That’s…what do I say to that?”
“Say yes, Beloved.” Xander leaned closer, rubbing his cheek along Stavros’s, covering the man in his scent. He’d rub himself all over Stavros if he thought he could get away with it. “Say you will be mine.”
Stavros wrapped his arms around Xander, burying his face in his neck. “Yes.”
Feeling as though he were rocketing to the moon, Xander pulled Stavros’s head back and devoured Stavros’s mouth. His hands explored anywhere and everywhere he could find soft, creamy skin.
It took every ounce of Xander’s years of training to keep control and not attack his Beloved. Willpower alone was holding him back, and he wanted to claim Stavros, not give him a heart attack. This had to be done right. Xander had waited so fucking long for this that he feared it being over in a heartbeat.
Xander gave Stavros a low throaty growl, climbing up Stavros’s body in a slow and seductive prowl, drinking his Beloved in with his eyes. He snaked his arms around Stavros’s waist, pulling him closer until he could feel his Beloved’s erection pressing into his own.
The friction was maddening.
Holding his weight on his arms, Xander lowered his mouth to Stavros’s, tilting his head to one side as he ran his tongue over Stavros’s lips, nipping the bottom one. Xander lowered his upper torso back down so he could nuzzle Stavros’s neck, the urge to bite making his gums throb along with his cock.
Xander’s hand snaked down between them, dipping beneath the waistband of Stavros’s jeans. He ran his thumb over the moist head of Stavros’s cock, smearing the pre-cum around and squeezing lightly.
Xander’s other hand slid into the back of Stavros’s jeans, running his finger down Stavros’s crack, tapping at the puckered hole. He ran his hands over the flare of his mate’s buttocks, squeezing both nicely rounded globes.
Stavros moaned, hitching a leg up onto Xander’s hip, pressing even closer. Xander pulled back to see his Beloved’s flushed cheeks, lust eating up his irises. Stavros’s aroused passion was making Xander’s grow stronger. His cock was burning to take possession of his Beloved.
Xander wrapped an arm around Stavros’s waist, raising him up and ripping his pants off with the other hand. He sat the naked man down on the mattress, staring at his beautiful cock. It was long and thick, the head a deep red color. The patch of dark curly pubic hair lay softly around his prick.
Xander reached down, running a finger around his mate’s cock and taking in its beauty. Stavros’s cock jumped at his touch, pre-cum dripping down the side of the head. Xander was fascinated at the contrast between his golden fingers and Stavros’s pale skin.
Xander fisted his Beloved’s cock in his hand. He kissed Stavros, pouring all his emotions into that one intimate act. A web of arousal spun around him as he squeezed his Stavros’s shaft, his thumb caressing over the leaking head, stroking his thick length.
Xander pushed Stavros’s legs back to his mate’s chest, giving himself the perfect view. He kissed his way down Stavros’s body until he reached his goal. Never before had he seem such smooth skin.
With a slow and lazy motion, his tongue circled around the pink delight, feeling every ridge of the tight muscle. He stiffened his tongue, and then pushed in.
“Xander, please, don’t torture me,” Stavros whimpered as he pushed down on Xander’s face.
Xander grinned as he pulled out then pushed back in, feeling the muscle expand for him as it welcomed his invasion. He affixed his lips to the skin surrounding the starburst, suckling gently.
“You are going make me come,” Stavros warned as he hitched his hips, placing his feet on Xander’s back.
That was the point.