Chapter Fourteen #2
He’d made himself far too fucking soft. He stomped to the pantry to fill a tankard of ale, almost dropping it with his clumsy, thawing fingers as he gulped.
He had to regain control. He felt like an untested boy riding his stallion for the first time, when Massen had raced across the rocky fields, not heeding any of Cador’s panicked commands.
“Must you wear your boots inside?”
Swallowing his mouthful of ale, he turned blankly to Jem, his agitation giving way to puzzlement. “What?”
Jem’s jaw clenched, his hands in fists now. “I said, must you wear your boots inside ?”
It was the last thing he’d expected. Cador looked down at his snow-clumped boots, puddles growing beneath them, then back up at Jem. “Clearly.”
Jem’s nostrils flared. “Why don’t you take off your boots by the door instead of tracking mud and snow all over the floor?”
“It dries eventually.” He shrugged.
“Not before I tread in it!”
“You should be more careful.”
“ Me ?” Jem’s voice rose. “It’s—” He sputtered. “Uncivilized!”
Cador mock gasped. “Is it? You know how much I hate to be uncivilized. So fucking sorry for getting the floor dirty.”
His words hung in the air, and Jem’s gaze dropped to the stone he’d licked clean. And damn it all, Cador had to look too, his prick swelling in an instant. Control slipped from his grasp with every heartbeat.
He forced another gulp of ale down his throat before stalking to the door. This time, he grabbed his cloak and gloves before stepping into the cold. Cador hesitated on the threshold.
If Jem worried about him, it was of no consequence, yet he muttered, “I’m tending to Massen,” and left, bracing in the bitter wind.
An hour later, he paced the barn, Massen snorting at him in annoyance.
He’d rubbed down Massen’s coat and fed him more treats, and now the horse clearly wanted to be left the fuck alone.
Cador couldn’t blame him, but he continued pacing and muttering to himself, going over ideas for alternate plans.
He reached the door and spun back. It wasn’t a big space.
There were three stalls for horses, Massen of course in the biggest and the others empty.
The other corners were used for storage of various equipment, and Cador could cross the square barn in no time.
Although currently he had to skirt the new object taking up half the creaky timber floor.
He should just throw out the damn thing.
Take his ax to it and recover what he could for firewood.
Which wouldn’t be much, since most of it was a crisscross of thin iron.
The blacksmith had done a fine job making it delicate but sturdy.
Barely tall enough for Cador to stand in, so there was plenty of room for Jem and Derwa.
He sighed. There was no getting away from it—he had to face Jem again. And why should Cador be timid? Jem was the one who’d displayed himself so wantonly. Who’d been so desperate for cum he’d licked it from the floor.
Damn , it fired Cador’s blood. It was no use denying it. Jem’s display of fucking himself, his submission that was both innocent and deliciously filthy, aroused Cador like never before. Thoughts of how he would take Jem if he was given the chance rioted through his mind.
There were so many options—fucking his pretty mouth, spreading him open and licking into his arse, filling him with fingers and cock, binding him and making him beg for it. After the way he’d crawled and lapped up seed, Cador had a feeling Jem might enjoy being restrained…
He swore. He was hard again, aching and hot, and it took more pacing and forcing his thoughts on the most mundane tasks until it subsided. He eyed the aviary. Once the snow was finally done for the season, it should make a good home for Derwa until she could fly away.
Hmm . Perhaps it would make for a neutral topic and he and Jem could move forward. Return to normal—or whatever passed for it now—and pretend the rest had never happened.
The snow had stopped and the wind was calmer now, so Cador returned to the cottage and announced, “I have something to show you.”
It seemed Jem had been pacing too and now stood frozen in the middle of the room.
He said nothing, and Cador returned to the barn, tugging off his gloves for something to do.
Either Jem would follow or he wouldn’t. Sure enough, Jem appeared before long in his new boots and cloak.
He poked his head inside tentatively, then gasped.
Face alight and cursedly beautiful, he rushed to the aviary. “Oh!”
Cador couldn’t deny the pleasure spreading through his chest to see Jem’s joy. To have had a hand in it. He forced a shrug. “The blacksmith made it.”
Jem ran his fingers down the twisted iron bars set into a wooden base. The metal was thin and delicate, but unbreakable. “It’s wonderful.”
“I’m sure it’s smaller than you’re used to.”
“It’s still wonderful.” He turned his rich eyes on Cador, and it felt like sunlight breaking through gray skies. “Thank you.”
Their eyes were locked through the aviary’s spindles. Cador felt rooted to the spot, caught in that brilliant sunshine of Jem’s gaze and the joyful gleam of his smile. As the smile faded, they stared at each other. The cool, dank air of the barn seemed to crackle and spark, alive with possibility.
“Do you kiss here?” Jem blurted. His eyes went wide, and Cador imagined he was about to clap his hand over his mouth to block any more words from escaping.
His heart sped. “In the barn?”
“No, I mean—never mind!” Jem studied his boots, his slender fingers gripping the aviary’s spindles.
“You mean do we kiss here on Ergh?” Cador had to chuckle. Did the mainlanders imagine them only rutting like savage beasts? Not that he didn’t enjoy that, but kissing fulfilled a special hunger. Cador’s eyes dropped, and Jem’s tongue darted out to nervously lick his red-pink lips.
After a shaky exhalation, Jem raised his head. “I’ve never been kissed.”
Cador couldn’t breathe. For an endless moment, he and Jem stared at each other. In the wake of the whispered confession, Cador’s resolve crumbled, his surrender complete.
It was only a few strides around the aviary, and he had Jem’s smooth face in his hands before either of them could protest. He dipped his head and captured Jem’s mouth, swallowing his gasp and tasting a trace of ginger.
Cador kissed him hard, then slow and soft. He inched back just enough for Jem to part his lips on a sigh before sweeping his tongue inside. Jem startled, going rigid, his cry muffled by Cador claiming him with patient strokes of his tongue.
Melting into the kiss, Jem swayed closer, moaning. Cador still cupped his face, circling his cheekbones with his thumbs in the same steady rhythm of his tongue.
It was like drinking the sweetest summer mead, and Cador was sure his thirst would never be slaked.
Jem’s whimpers and moans were stirring music, his fingers grasping at Cador’s waist, so trusting as he opened himself, his tongue clumsy but guileless.
He was eager and honest and unlike anyone Cador had ever kissed before.
As Cador eased back and straightened, he slid his hands to Jem’s shoulders. He should have let go, yet of course he didn’t. Now that he’d allowed himself to touch, the tide was too powerful.
He tried to keep his voice light although his throat tightened with foreign emotion he couldn’t control. “Yes. We kiss here.”
Eyes closed, Jem’s little breaths ghosted over Cador’s face. His long, thick lashes fluttered as he met his gaze. “That was…” He ran his fingertips over his spit-shiny lips. “Is kissing always like this?”
Cador bit back a groan. Jem’s innocence was a spark to dry tinder eager to burn.
He hungered for more, unable to deny it as he claimed Jem’s mouth, his tongue demanding, Jem answering the call.
Panting and clutching each other, they licked and tasted, Jem on tiptoes as though he wanted to climb Cador.
Cador couldn’t think about what would happen. The future would come, and they would face it. But not yet. Not for months. He couldn’t deny Jem nor himself this pleasure, especially if peace was fleeting. Tomorrow held no promises. There was only now.
“I want you in my bed,” Cador growled. Ready to beg.
Throat working, Jem nodded, his eyes earnest. “Please. I need—” He nodded again. “Will you show me how?”
Cador couldn’t imagine there was a man in all the world who could resist that plea. He scooped Jem into his arms and strode into the snow-still night, the only sound his boots crunching and their quick breaths clouding between them.
Jem’s slim, firm body fit perfectly in his arms, Jem’s fingers scratching at the short brush of hair at the base of Cador’s skull and sending shivers over his scalp.
Oh, yes. Cador would show him.