19. Chapter Eighteen
19
William
W illiam’s clothes lay forgotten somewhere in the tent. A demanding fae had his attention and refused to let go.
Their naked forms tangled on the bed, all hands, teeth, and tongue exploring one another. He found himself between Nicholas’ legs, hands wrapped around his cock. William sat back, savoring the view of the fae’s breathless form beneath him. He liked it before, back in the caravan when Nicholas’ eyes shown in the night, fuchsia light, more vibrant than a summer sun. They did the same here, flickering as flames behind his fluttering eyelids. Lust and pleasure swirled within his irises, hips rolling, and a hand reaching to return the favor.
William grunted at the first touch of Nicholas’ hands on his arousal. Their shared moans echoed in the tent, making him bite his lip.
“Don’t silence yourself.” Nicholas sat up to brush a hand against his mouth. “None will hear of us, nor we of them. Tonight, I wish to hear only from you.”
They shared a kiss, slowly pleasuring one another, letting the sensations build. Nicholas tugged him forward, so they fell onto the bed together. Then William took to Nicholas’ neck, savoring the fae’s pulse fluttering against his lips, then moving over his body. Further and further down, William went until he caressed Nicholas’ smooth thighs and nipped at the dark curls above his enticing hips.
He hated himself for wanting to taste the fae, for wishing to hear every noise of pleasure Nicholas could make. He moaned, the sound vibrating around Nicholas’s cock that plunged between his lips. The fae had far too much to be proud of, otherworldly perfect even as a panting mess. Clawed hands pierced the sensitive skin of his nape and twisted into his hair, encouraging him to move faster. He slowed instead.
“And you dare to call me insufferable,” Nicholas growled, followed by a pleasured cry when his pace hastened.
Green eyes fell half mast, admiring his mouth’s work. He was by no means shy in the bedroom, not anymore, and he liked how unkempt Nicholas became. Like this, all the fae could do was tremble and groan when William toyed with him by retreating.
Nicholas’ hips thrust relentlessly into his smooth palm. He fondled Nicholas’s balls with his mouth before holding the fae’s hips against the bed to go down on him again. He tasted salty and sweet and dangerous. He shivered when Nicholas tugged on his hair, enjoying the flicker of pain. Then the fae cursed and pulled him away with a rather telling groan.
“Worried you would finish too soon?” he chuckled.
“Maybe. I won’t deny that I like the way you use your mouth here.” Nicholas used the hold he had on William’s hair to toss him onto the bed. The sheets rubbed against his sensitive arousal, then Nicholas perched behind him. “That devilish mouth of yours makes me want to be rough with you,” he said while pressing his tip between William’s cheeks.
“Then it’s good I am not here for a gentle evening.” He groaned as Nicholas rocked him into the bed, fingers held tightly against his neck and teeth tearing into his back.
Lower and lower, Nicholas went until his tongue massaged William’s rim. He cursed, fingers tearing at the pillow beneath him. The fae proved his tongue to be skilled in a plethora of ways, far more than tolerable here. He shook and gasped at the damn near torturous attention of Nicholas’ mouth. The spiraling motions, the in and out as the shade’s hands kneaded his behind, then two fingers joined to stretch and deepen the sensation.
“Like that?” Nicholas chuckled.
“Yeah, mm, harder,” he demanded, groaning when Nicholas obliged. His rough penetrations left William reeling, fingers bone white against the sheets and moans muffled by the pillow captured between his teeth.
The fae marked him from thighs to back, ravenous as ever. It made his ears burn. He had plenty of partners, but out here, it was mostly to ease their boredom, then pretend nothing happened when the sun rose. He didn’t always get what he wanted, but some attention often felt better than none, far better than lonely nights anyway.
Most didn’t live up to Nicholas’ insatiable desire. The way he couldn’t keep his hands off William, mapping out his body and testing what had his back bowing, toes curling, or cries amplifying. He refused to give Nicholas more than a moan, though. The bastard would be far too smug otherwise, although he was clearly intent on receiving it because his zealous tongue ceased its pleasurable torment.
“If you don’t let me hear you, I’ll stop,” Nicholas warned, daring to retreat. Nicholas nipped at his thighs, then kissed the trembling skin.
“You’re such an annoying jackass,” he muttered, breathless and aroused.
Nicholas yanked him up onto his knees. The fae pressed his hips against William, teasing him. His hips bucked, wanting more, but Nicholas retreated with a laugh. “I do love it when you sweet talk me.”
“Your idea of sweet talking has always been less than desirable.”
Nicholas chuckled, then thrust forward. He couldn’t stifle his moans as his body was stolen by the fae’s aggressive sex. A ruthless and intense pace made better by Nicholas grasping his arms and holding them back. He hovered above the bed, thighs quaking as the fae fucked him.
The ecstasy froze and burned, settling between his trembling thighs. The sound of their sex filled the tent, skin against skin and high-pitched moans. His hips rolled, exuberant and wanting. This is what he yearned for; a mind free of worry, overtaken by amazing sex that’d let him forget. He couldn’t think of anything but the smoldering lust between them. The unrivaled high that made him short of breath and desperate for completion. The pleasure building at the base of his spine, promising to drown him.
Nicholas wrapped an arm around his shoulders, forcing him to kneel upright. He caught William in a kiss. Their hips slowed, barely more than a weak roll to drag out their sex.
“Enjoying yourself, my wicked?” Nicholas purred.
“Are you so worried about your performance that you need to ask?” he groaned when the bastard dared to pull out.
“If you want to insult my performance, we could always stop.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied sarcastically. He would never admit how great he felt. How he almost whimpered when Nicholas grasped his arousal, mimicking the slow motions of his hips teasing so much more. They shared their breaths, then Nicholas took to his neck, nipping at the tender skin.
“Don’t leave marks where others might see,” he warned, cursing from Nicholas slamming inside of him and the rough slap against his backside. He almost dropped, reaching back to hold tight to Nicholas’ arm as their hips hastened, returning to the speed he desired.
“Why not?” Nicholas snickered, sucking harder so he absolutely would leave a mark. He released the skin with a quiet pop. “Worried your little friend may ask questions?”
Smirking, he replied, “Worried my other partners may ask questions.”
Snarling, the fae shoved him back onto his hands. “When I’m through with you, you won’t ever consider other partners,” Nicholas growled.
He certainly didn’t like the mention of that, but William did because it drove the fae’s hips wild. So much so that William’s arms gave out, and he fell to his elbows. Moaning for more as his vision dissipated and lungs fumbled over every breath. His hand gripped his cock, desperately trying to mirror Nicholas’ movements, to push himself over the edge of sanity.
Nicholas gave him everything he wanted and more, fucking him to the point of unfathomable pleasure, body nothing more than explosive nerves in his treacherous fingertips. Then his orgasm rippled through him, sending his muscles into a spasming fit. Nicholas didn’t stop until his powerful groan echoed around them and they fell to the bed.
William truly loved and hated how listless he became afterward. Damn near peaceful, even. Nicholas already knew that, or at least suspected, seeing as William showed up. But at least he said nothing of it, letting the both of them bask in the afterglow.
Too tired to leave yet, William shuffled onto his back and stalled by asking, “The monsters that attacked us. Did you see them on your mission?”
Nicholas whined. “Work in bed? Really? You’re incapable of letting a good thing last.”
The bed shifted from him rolling onto his side. His fingers ghosted over William’s chest, first following scars here and there, then rubbing the skin above his still racing heart.
“I thought this was sex, not a way to steal information from me,” Nicholas said while brushing hair from his eyes. William ignored the urge to insist he not do that. Nicholas looked better a mess.
“I like efficiency,” he countered. “Might as well ask while I am here. There will be gossip spreading through the camp by morning, but I would rather hear from the source.”
Humming, Nicholas kissed William’s chest and up his neck. The tent smelled of sex and the heat had yet to dissipate. If anything, the spark had never died, merely simmered in expectation of the next blast.
“We came upon a citadel, slightly larger than Lockehold, but it was not for protection,” Nicholas explained. Every breath scorched William’s skin. “I saw through Fearworn’s eyes a lab for monstrous creations. He read over his books and sought further depravity by conducting crude experiments. Even my gut dared to twist. The citadel had been built around a Scar bigger than ever recorded where more monsters presided, along with that snake creature we fought.”
William’s breath caught. The fae shifted onto an elbow to lean over the medic. William maintained a calm expression while his thoughts were anything but. Fearworn had even more monsters. Their worry about a larger Shimmer had been proven, and the hope he once had diminished. He felt foolish to believe, even for a moment, that things may change. Fearworn remained ahead of them, prepared for more battles, his monstrous force always mounting while William witnessed more death everyday.
“We arrived shortly before the monsters took flight,” Nicholas continued. “With their wings, we could not return before their assault, but we began the trek back when we could risk it.”
“Fearworn gave no indication of the attack?”
“No. I am uncertain he makes as many calls as we once suspected. His madness is of monsters, of what he can make of them.”
“Madness is often used to describe shades, particularly Fearworn, but he seemed in control of himself when he came for us,” William said.
“The madness of shades is not what mortals believe it to be. It’s an obsession with something or someone beyond what any can comprehend. A fallen shade will do anything to achieve their goal, risking their lives and everyone else’s in the process, and among all that, their power gnaws away at them.”
Nicholas allowed fuchsia light to cascade from his fingertips in thin streams, the brilliant aura memorizing. Beneath that beauty laid power so strong it even rippled through William’s veins, terrifying, corrosive, and wanting.
“I command the power within me. I tell it where to go, what to do, and when to calm.” Nicholas closed his hand, and the light vanished. “Fearworn is not the same. Power controls him, eats at him. His heart may beat, but it is no longer his own. In his case, his obsession protects him. The monsters. The knowledge. The destruction. And many follow him because of that power, because of what he has accomplished and likely what he can give them. But, perhaps, not necessarily for his intelligence and strategy.”
William hummed. “Are you doomed to follow that same path?”
A smile slipped over Nicholas’ disturbingly charming features. “You must hope that I am.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“All shades run the risk, but there have been some before Fearworn who lived and died relatively normally.”
“What is a normal death by fae standards?”
“A beheading or an iron dagger to the heart by those they did not pay enough attention to.” Nicholas sounded far too serious for such an unserious answer. “Now, no more work talk.”
“Alright.” William pressed Nicholas aside to lean toward the edge of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand clutched his wrist, tugging him back into the sheets where Nicholas locked their legs together. He pressed his naked form to William’s, speaking against his lips, “I prefer my evening partners to stay.”
“For pleasant company or another round?”
“Depends on their skills.”
“And what of my skills?”
“If it were up to me, I would tie you to the bed and keep you here.” Nicholas caught William in a kiss that fanned the spark between them to flame once more.
“Flattery doesn’t suit you,” he whispered.
“This is honest flattery. I will not trick here. I will be sweet, if that guarantees a taste.”
William rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, how sweet of you to play pretend for sex. That is by no means a rude deception.”
“Such whining.” Nicholas marked William’s shoulder and hand caressed the medic’s thigh. “I prefer to hear such sounds in another form.”
William couldn’t stifle his laugh. Nicholas sat up, grinning. “That is twice I have earned laughter from you. It is a pleasant sound that you should share more often.”
“Is this the horn dog talking sweet for another round?”
With a lecherous grin, Nicholas settled himself between William’s legs. “You already know me so well.”