Chapter Forty-Two
White Ravens
Scar
The steam from the high-tech shower enveloped Scar like a living veil.
He held Gage close, his heart still pounding from his proposal.
How had he—a man from the slums of South Side Chicago, who’d charged through life like a battering ram—found himself here, in luxury, fighting for what was right, beside the man he loved, and who loved him back?
Scar lathered the soap over Gage’s shoulders, across the tight definition of his chest, tracing the hard planes and deep valleys between his pecs, showing Gage how much he appreciated what his hard work had done to his body.
Every touch was a silent vow of worship for the man who’d trusted him with his heart—and soon, his body.
Gage reciprocated, gliding his palms up and down his back, with his head resting on his shoulder.
He brushed his knuckles along Gage’s jaw, to his chin, guiding his face upwards. His eyes were closed as he pressed his lips to his. It was chaste and gentle before it began to deepen and grow.
Gage’s moans vibrated against his skin as their hard cocks nudged against each other’s thighs, slick with soap, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through Scar’s core.
Gage arched into him, seeking more.
He loved how responsive he was, and how he could make his body shudder with the slightest touch.
He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over Gage’s nipples until they pebbled, hard and oversensitive.
Gage trembled in his arms, his eyes hooded with raw desire, his dark lashes spiky from the water.
He looked beautiful.
He couldn’t look away from him, mesmerized by every expression. The way Gage’s brows furrowed, his full lips parting on a gasp, the flush creeping up his neck.
The power to elicit such craving in him was intoxicating.
He slid his hand lower, cupping the curve of Gage’s ass cheek, kneading the muscle before he traced a soapy finger along the cleft.
Gage moaned louder.
He paused at the tight, untouched entrance, circling it lightly, the slickness easing the glide.
The realness hit Scar like a thunderbolt to his chest.
No one’s ever had this or touched him here but me.
All this time, Gage has been waiting for someone worthy.
And he chose me. Me.
A swell of pride washed over him, making him feel monumental. Gage agreeing to marry him had erased any lingering doubts he’d had about himself being damaged goods or destined for hell.
Gage pressed back against his finger. “Yes, please,” he begged, in a ragged whisper, laced with desperation.
Gage wrapped his hand around Scar’s throbbing cock. His grip was firm yet hesitant as he stroked him from base to tip with careful touches that damn near made his knees buckle.
He grunted, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. Pleasure coiled in his gut as Gage’s virgin touch ignited a fire that almost demolished his restraint.
He captured Gage’s mouth again, kissing him with all the love words couldn’t describe.
Gage whimpered into the kiss, canting his hips forward.
“I want you inside me. I want it to be you.” Gage’s voice cracked with longing as he squeezed his fingers around his shaft.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Scar gritted.
Gage was making this difficult as hell. Scar’s body was pulsing with love and iron will.
As much as he ached to claim Gage, he wanted their first time to be perfect and in line with Gage’s faith.
“I won’t go into you tonight,” he whispered against Gage’s lips.
Gage pulled back slightly, “But—”
Scar caressed the sharp line of Gage’s jaw, willing him to feel the weight of his vow.
“The first time I make love to you”—he took Gage’s hand and kissed the gold band on his ring finger—“it’ll be as your husband.”
He searched Gage’s face for understanding.
“But…” He took Gage’s hardness in his hand and stroked him, slowly. “I can still make you fly right now.”
Gage buried his face in his throat, kissing and drinking at the water running over him.
He guided Gage backward toward the built-in shower bench. When his legs bumped the edge, he pressed on his shoulders until he sank down willingly.
Gage leaned forward and licked across his abs before Scar dropped to his knees.
Gage’s cock strained toward him, the head deep red and glistening. Scar damn near felt sorry for him.
He bent and placed open-mouthed kisses along the inside of Gage’s thigh, sucking lightly on the tender skin before biting just enough to draw a sharp inhale.
His natural scent, mixed with soap and steam, made Scar want to spend hours tasting and savoring every inch. He tongued and massaged higher until he was making marks where Gage’s thigh met his groin.
Gage was shaking, his moans growing louder and more urgent as he fisted his hands in Scar’s wet hair.
He wrapped his lips around the head of Gage’s cock, relaxed his throat, and swallowed him.
Flavor exploded on his tongue, salty and clean. Scar hummed and hallowed his cheeks until a strangled cry fell from Gage’s lips.
His thighs quivered, muscles jumping under his hands, and he knew, with a thrill of satisfaction, that Gage was already barreling toward the edge.
He gripped the back of Gage’s knee and lifted it, propping his heel on the bench to spread him wider, exposing that virgin territory.
Oh fuck. Scar squeezed the base of his own dick.
The sight of it—pink, tight, untouched—sent a primal surge straight to his balls.
Possessiveness gnawed at him like a beast—take it, stretch it, claim it, and make it his.
Not yet.
The restraint heightened his desire.
He worked Gage down his throat as he reached for more soap to slick his middle finger.
“Scar,” Gage panted.
He circled and massaged the entrance before he pressed inside to the first knuckle.
Gage shattered instantly, convulsing as he shot hot spurts against the back of Scar’s throat.
“Scar!” he cried on a broken sob, head thrown back against the wall, neck corded with tension as ecstasy tore through him.
Scar swallowed greedily, milking every drop with slow, thorough strokes. He didn’t stop until Gage’s gasps turned to overstimulated grunts, as he tried to get away even as he clutched Scar closer.
When he was good and done with him, Scar stood and stared down at his satisfied lover—chest heaving, his eyes glazed and shining like a thin layer of ice.
His own cock jutted out hard and aching, veins pulsing only inches from Gage’s kiss-swollen lips.
Gage clutched Scar’s hips and pulled him forward.
He held Gage’s cheek as he brushed his lips against the tip of his cock with a feather-soft contact that almost made him double over.
Scar was breathing hard at the sight of his pre-cum slicking Gage’s lower lip, but more so at his tentative exploring.
His dick throbbed with insistent need, every nerve blazing. He cupped Gage’s chin gently, grazing his thumb along his pretty mouth.
“Damn, you’re fuckin’ sexy as hell,” he moaned as he fisted his shaft and dragged it across Gage’s soft lips.
Gage parted wider, ghosting a soft exhale over his sensitive head before he peeked his pink tongue out.
Scar tensed in anticipation.
Gage lapped at his slit shyly, so vulnerable and erotic, driving him crazy. It felt amazing, but the visual was too much.
His orgasm crested like a tsunami, balls drawing up tight, fire pooling low.
With a harsh groan, he tangled his hand in Gage’s hair, pulling his head back to expose the long, elegant line of his throat.
Scar jerked himself with tight, desperate pulls, once, twice, three times, before his release slammed into him like nothing he’d felt before, until his vision blurred.
The power of it, the intense love for his partner intertwined with raw need—as he came all over Gage’s throat—left him reeling until the last shudders of his orgasm stopped.
They moved from the shower in a sex-drunk haze, stumbling naked and dripping onto the villa floor, as the night air sent chills across his skin.
He collapsed onto the king-sized bed and pulled Gage on top of him, settling his head on his chest.
He wrapped one arm around his waist while stroking the other through his hair until the strands began to dry.
As Gage drifted off, Scar lay awake, savoring Gage’s weight and the way his heart beat steadily against his own. He stared at the ring glinting on his finger in the moonlight and let it all sink in.
Gage meant more to him than anyone.
Scar had bled and killed for frivolous reasons. Never valued his own life, often times wishing for death.
Gage was the first thing he’d ever wanted to live for.