Chapter Seventeen
A s the dull echo of Massen’s steps reached the barn, Jem’s pulse raced.
Crouching, he arranged twigs and pine needles and scrub from the underbrush into a pleasing aviary floor.
Derwa watched from her perch on the side of the crate, which Jem had tucked in the aviary’s corner.
Gray feathers mingled with yellow, and her chirp was merry, not a constant cry of hunger.
Jem should have been angry with Cador. Sitting in the mud when Bryok and Delen appeared, he’d felt foolish and cast aside. Cador had ignored him, and given what they’d just shared, it was a blow.
He should still be angry now, but his hurt had been defeated by Cador’s simple apology and tender, remorseful kisses.
Jem couldn’t seem to regret it. After all, they were wed.
Would it be so unthinkable that they find happiness together?
Comfort and laughter and desire? Even love, although Jem knew he shouldn’t dream of that.
But surely Bryok wouldn’t object to his brother’s contentment.
Nor was Jem sorry he’d spent another night in Cador’s bed.
He definitely could not regret having Cador’s prick buried inside him again.
Although his fantasies had been rougher, his heart swelled at Cador’s continued restraint.
His arse was undeniably sore, and he had to be patient.
The problem with patience was the niggling fear that this chance for discovery wouldn’t last.
Cador hadn’t entered the barn yet, although he could hear Massen’s chuffs in the clearing.
Jem had been flushed and half-hard all day.
He throbbed with it. He’d always taken pleasure in, well, pleasuring himself.
Now he itched to touch himself almost constantly, although he didn’t, the urge to be touched even stronger.
He waited for Cador’s return like an animal in heat, pacing and impatient. Perhaps this should have shamed him, but he found it absolutely delicious, eager for Cador’s touch, for his cock. And especially those kisses.
As Cador finally appeared, Jem turned a smile to him. His stomach clenched at Cador’s stricken expression. Standing in the aviary, Jem asked, “What’s wrong?”
Cador shook his head, his voice hoarse. “Nothing. It’s—you’re—” He cleared his throat. “You’re inside.”
Jem motioned at the twisted iron bars surrounding him. “There’s plenty of room for me. Certainly for Derwa.”
Cador’s blond hair had grown just enough that it looked a richer gold in the torchlight. Jem’s fingers itched to touch as Cador asked, “How is she?”
Jem smiled. “Come see for yourself.”
It was warm enough that Cador hadn’t needed his fur-lined cloak.
He stripped off his outer leather shirt and hung it on a hook on the barn wall.
He was left in a leather vest with no sleeves that clung to his torso.
He tugged at the laces on the vest, opening them enough to scratch at his sternum, his blunt nails rasping through his chest hair and over the tusks of his tattoo.
Closing the barred door behind him, Cador kneeled in the aviary, offering his extended finger to Derwa. She eagerly hopped onto this new perch, and he brushed her growing feathers with the fingers of his other hand, his touch careful and light. He dwarfed her dramatically.
“Hello, little one,” he murmured. She chirped happily, and Cador beamed at her. When she wobbled, he instantly cupped his free hand under her. “Careful.” He slowly returned her to the safety of the padded crate, smiling as she hopped and flapped.
Jem watched, affection melding with a roar of desire.
Still kneeling, Cador glanced up at him and jolted. “What?”
“Come here.” Jem had meant it as a command, but it had come out breathless.
Cador’s gaze roamed up and down Jem’s body, a teasing smile tugging on his lips. “Is there something you need?”
He groaned. “ Yes .”
“What might that be?” Cador tilted his head with a bland expression of mild curiosity.
As impatient as Jem was, he had to laugh. He never would have thought Cador would make him laugh so much. “You know . It’s been all day!”
Cador’s lips twitched, but he kept a calm expression. “All this time an innocent, and now insatiable.”
“Yes. Get up here.”
Trying to hide a smile and failing, Cador stood, his head inches from the aviary’s roof. “What will you do with me now that I’m your prisoner?”
Jem could hold back no longer. With a grunt, Cador caught him in his arms, his surprised laugh cut off by Jem’s tongue in his mouth. Jem’s feet didn’t touch the floor as he clung to Cador’s broad shoulders and kissed him noisily, panting and moaning.
Cador kissed him back with an answering hum, tasting faintly of the ale he carried in his tusk flask. When they broke apart, he lowered Jem to his feet and nuzzled his hair, inhaling deeply. Jem rubbed his cheek against Cador’s chest, reveling in the scratch of hair on his skin.
Mine.
He unlaced the tight vest down to Cador’s ribs so he could get his hands in, scraping with his nails, marking him.
The scent that made him think of moss on stone filled his senses, and he kissed and licked, catching a nipple in his teeth.
Jem was fully hard, and he rubbed himself on Cador’s hip, not caring how wanton he seemed. Loving it.
Cador chuckled warmly. “What do you need, my little prince?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I wasn’t trying to be subtle.”
Chest rumbling with laughter, Cador kissed him, sweeping his tongue lazily through Jem’s mouth before pulling back. He whispered against Jem’s lips, “Tell me what you want.”
He brimmed so full with desire that Jem hardly knew where to start. He wanted everything . But, yes, there was one fantasy that had recurred through the day. Taking a deep breath, Jem rubbed his hand over the bulge of Cador’s hard prick through his snug trousers.
“Mmm.” Cador pushed his hips forward. He traced a finger down Jem’s cheek. “You want my cock?”
“Yes,” Jem breathed, rubbing harder. “In my mouth. Can I?”
“Can you?” Cador echoed.
Jem hesitated. “Er… May I?”
A laugh boomed from Cador’s chest, his cheeks dimpling. “I’m not worried about your fucking grammar.”
Head spinning with joy, Jem asked, “Then what…?”
“ May you what?”
Jem swallowed hard, his throat gone dry. Knowing that Cador wanted him to say it aloud in greater detail made his own prick strain in his britches. “May I suck your cock?”
“Oh yes, you can suck me morning, noon, and night.” He groaned. “Go on, get that pretty mouth on me.”
Dropping to his knees on the twigs and pine needles, Jem asked, “Like this?” He burned to know what Cador wanted. It was a thrill to give him what he desired, like a perfect circle of need and response.
“Mmm.” He caressed Jem’s head, threading his fingers into the curls that he seemed to enjoy touching.
Jem opened his mouth—then clamped it shut as a burst of chirps filled the small aviary. They both looked at Derwa perched on the crate, barely more than an arm’s length away. Jem playfully hissed, “Shh!” at her and tugged at Cador’s trousers.
But Cador batted away his hands. “She’s watching!”
“She’s a bird.” Truthfully, he’d rather not have her there, but Cador’s prick was inches away, and Jem’s mouth watered.
“Yes, an innocent little creature! It’s not right.”
Jem’s chest warmed with laughter. “So the barbarian hunter is suddenly shy?”
In response, Cador hauled Jem to his feet, out of the aviary, and over his shoulder before Jem could do more than squeak. Cador strode to the cottage, Massen barely glancing at them as they passed.
Inside, Cador ordered, “Take your clothes off. Let me see you.”
Jem almost tore his tunic getting it over his head.
When he was naked, the stone floor chilly under his bare feet, Cador lifted him.
Jem wrapped his legs around his waist. Before the fire, Cador lowered him to the hearth.
Jem’s knees were cushioned by the soft pile of furs, and the glowing embers warmed his bare skin.
He stared up at Cador towering over him, still clothed. A thrill rippled through him, and he licked his lips, not even minding that Cador still wore his muddy boots. Tentatively, he spread his hands over tree-trunk thighs and leather trousers worn and soft.
“You want it like this? On your knees for me?” Cador asked in a rumbling whisper. He traced a fingertip over Jem’s lips. His prick had swelled, and Jem eyed the straining bulge hungrily.
Nodding, Jem unlaced the rest of Cador’s vest so he could rub his face against the trail of hair leading south.
He freed Cador’s thick shaft from his trousers, peeling down the leather so he could cup his heavy bollocks, coarse hair tickling his palms. Faced with it so closely, it all seemed quite large.
Cador’s chuckle was low and intimate. “Suck me. Go on. You can do it.”
And he could. He’d imagined it countless times since he was a lad, and now he was finally doing it. Although he was the one on his knees, he felt empowered and strong. Free. He could do this, and by gods, he would.
He began with fleeting kisses and licks, breathing in Cador’s musk greedily. Cador stroked his head and murmured encouragement as Jem explored and experimented. “That’s it,” he said with a moan. “I like that.”
When Jem was ready, he opened his mouth and sucked on the head of Cador’s cock, tasting drops of early seed. Cador groaned heartily, tightening his fingers in Jem’s hair. “Suck harder.”
Jem did, easing down the foreskin and bobbing his head. His lips stretched around Cador’s thick shaft, his jaw wide. He sucked until he choked, coughing and dribbling spit. Cador pulled out, caressing his cheek and rubbing the tip of his cock on Jem’s lips.
“Slowly,” Cador murmured. “Good boy.”
Jem cried out softly at that, his prick pulsing, close to coming without even touching himself. He sucked Cador again desperately, gripping his leather-clad hips, nostrils flaring. His jaw ached. He could hardly breathe. He loved it.