Chapter Fourteen
S now blind, Cador forced himself to stop after a dozen steps. He welcomed the wind’s icy bite on his hot face, his breath coming in soft pants. He welcomed it less on his exposed prick and quickly tucked himself back into his trousers, the rough material sending sparks over his half-mast.
Though he’d just spilled, his cock had life yet. When he’d walked in and found Jem naked and unashamed— wanton— lust had seized him with sudden violence, a tusk impaling a hunter who’d let down his guard for a fatal moment.
It had taken every bit of control he could muster to feign disinterest. He cursed.
He’d been a fool to goad Jem even a bit.
For when Jem had defiantly fucked himself with that candle, Cador had barely resisted the urge to bend him over the table or toss him to the bed or claim him right on the floor.
He’d fill him to the hilt—slam into his lithe, perfect body and take him until they both came even harder. Until Jem screamed his name and Cador’s cum was dripping out of him, pale and stark on his beautiful brown skin.
Cador had fucked dozens of people in his time, but he’d never… No one had ever… He shuddered, the image seared into his mind—Jem crawling toward him, bending his glossy head of curls, lapping up Cador’s seed desperately.
Not to mention the sight of Jem penetrating himself with the candle, fucking his arse mercilessly, his curved prick slender and deliciously hard. How Jem had eagerly stroked himself, his fine hands forceful, grunts and moans loud and shameless.
This was a virgin ?
Finding the well in the swirl of white, he leaned heavily on the freezing stone ledge, considering the question. Perhaps Jem wasn’t an innocent and had only said that to gain Cador’s sympathy on their wedding night? Perhaps he was practiced after all.
No.
Honesty had shone from Jem from the moment they’d met, just as brightly as those honey eyes. From the moment he’d leapt to his feet at the Holy Place and protested he was a man. He was no deceiver.
Why shouldn’t Jem pleasure himself? Squeeze his nipples into hard nubs, fuck himself and seek release, sweat slicking his bare skin, long eyelashes fluttering, prick straining…
As much as Cador wanted to take him roughly until they both screamed, he also burned to see Jem’s face when he pushed home, filling him to the breaking point and giving him the cock he craved. He wanted to kiss those smooth cheeks, that luscious mouth. He burned to show Jem how good it could be.
Damn it all, he hungered to hold Jem close. To make him smile— grin— hear him laugh, watch him tend his hatchling, listen to him speak about the most mundane things. He hungered to know Jem in a way he’d never wanted to know another. Never wanted to protect another.
It made no damn sense.
He groaned remembering the innocent and eager way Jem had licked up Cador’s seed, the naked need as he’d lifted his head, creamy spend at the corner of his mouth.
They’d both just come, but it had felt like barely the beginning.
Far from completion—the beginning of something much more powerful than mere fucking.
He’d hungered to kiss and taste himself on Jem’s tongue.
So Cador had run, and the tremors within now had nothing to do with the cold.
There was only so long he could hide outside.
Snow whipped more thickly now, and his fingers were numb.
He rubbed his hands, gaze caught by the marriage brand, the small bird’s wings in flight.
He curled his fingers into fists, hiding it.
There was nothing to fear. It was his own home!
He’d march back in and go about his business like any other day.
He didn’t know what to say to Jem, so he’d say nothing at all.
Why should he? He’d given a challenge, Jem had risen—quite impressively—to the task, and they’d enjoyed fleeting pleasure.
There was no need for anything to change.
They would continue on as they had, marking time until—
“Damn it all!” His shout was swallowed whole by the wind. He couldn’t bear to think of what the future would bring. In the meantime, he would not fuck Jem. He would regain his senses and slake his lust with someone else as soon as he could. Jem could do the same.
Why shouldn’t he? Cador had never known Austol to fuck men, but that didn’t mean he didn’t or couldn’t. He was free to. Jem was free to. It was the perfect solution. Austol could fuck Jem and Cador would be left in peace. Well, until they went to war.
Except the thought of Austol claiming Jem made his blood boil. Made his fingers grasp blindly for his spear. Deep within, a gnawing greed consumed him.
Mine .
Frustration and fury mounting, he stormed back to the cottage. He couldn’t abide this. He would tell Jem another place would be found for him in Rusk tomorrow. He’d regain his senses once he was alone again. Jem could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and Cador would go back to his simple life.
He went the wrong way in the blinding snow, reaching the stable. He couldn’t see them, but the goats bleated from their covered pen, the chickens safe in their protected coop.
Cursing, Cador yanked open the barn door, snow swirling around his boots before he pushed it shut against the wind.
He wasn’t ready to return to the cottage after all.
Massen snorted as if mocking him. There was true danger in getting swallowed by the white maelstrom, but Cador knew this land. His home.
Yes. His home. He had nothing to fear. He and Jem had done… that , and it would never happen again. Cador would master this weakness. He had no choice.
For there was nothing he could do about Tas’s plan and Jem’s part, and if he was to bear the knowledge of what was to come, he must keep Jem at a distance. He couldn’t allow this ripening temptation to take root.
He’d vowed to follow Tas’s orders. More than that, Tas trusted him completely. He’d been so proud of Cador’s loyalty and strength. How could Cador defy Tas now? He’d never rebelled like Bryok. How could he disappoint his only parent when there was so much at stake?
Breath clouding the air, he paced. Not only disappoint—that was far too weak a word for it. It would be a betrayal. A betrayal of Tas and their people. Cador and Jem and whatever madness had briefly consumed them paled in importance. He had to put Ergh first. It was his duty above all else.
Even my husband?
“But he’s not!” Cador shouted, the protest loud in the muffled silence of the barn and swallowed by the wind’s howl beyond.
None of it was real. It never had been and never could be.
He couldn’t let himself care about this mainland prince.
He couldn’t fuck him. Couldn’t let himself worry about Jem’s fate. Though…
There truly was no reason Jem had to suffer for the plan to work.
There was no doubt his severed hand would have a powerful impact on his mother, but surely it wasn’t necessary.
The kidnappers could send a curly lock of his hair.
Jem could write a plea, and his mother would know his script.
There were plenty of ways to make it believable.
Cador paced on, arms crossed as his mind spun. Tas would be with the queen, and she was already prepared to declare war. If she hesitated, Tas would convince her. And Jem could be safe. He could be part of it! They could stage the kidnapping with Jem as a willing participant.
He rubbed his hands, his confidence growing with each step.
Tas would not be disappointed or betrayed as long as the outcome was the same.
He’d understand. Perhaps even be impressed with Cador’s initiative.
Surely the better way was to involve Jem, who they’d underestimated.
Now Cador knew better. Yes, when the time was right, he would confess to Jem and they could formulate a new plan.
His chest tightened as he imagined the horror on Jem’s face when he learned the truth. It would not be an easy discussion, to say the very least. He swallowed hard over a surge of nausea.
Not easy at all.
Yet there was no rush! Why trouble Jem with it now? They had months still. Cador had time to work on the solution and find the right words. He’d make sure no one would hurt Jem. Then he wouldn’t feel guilty and ashamed, like he was choking on lies.
“But I still won’t fuck him,” Cador told Massen. “That would be a terrible idea.” He fetched a carrot from a box of treats and fed it to him, imagining Massen was nodding in agreement because he was losing his damn mind. “It’s settled,” he said.
Striding again with head high despite the sharp daggers of icy snow pelting his face, he reached the cottage and shoved inside. With a little exhale of relief, he kicked the door shut.
“Where did you go?” Jem had dressed, and he jumped up from where he poked the fire. “The storm is so much worse! I thought—” He shook his head, hands twitching in agitation.
There was no reason for Jem to have been, what?
Worried about him? There was even less reason for it to please Cador with a traitorous rush of warmth.
Forget the danger of the storm—here was more peril.
He didn’t need anyone to fret he was lost in a storm or ease his sickness at sea or greet him after a hunt with a sweet smile and eagerness to speak and listen.
He’d never needed this. He refused to need it now.
Cador managed to sound calm. Cold. “None of your concern. I’m not bothered by the storm.” He tried to think of a false task he could have needed to complete outside. But why was he explaining himself? This was his house! Jem wasn’t his real husband! There was no need for worry or explanations.