Chapter Forty-Seven
White Ravens
Scar
Scar opened Gage’s apartment door with deliberate slowness.
He stepped inside and called out, “Gage? It’s me.”
Silence.
His quarters was dark as always and Scar was getting used to moving around the dim outlines of Gage’s furniture.
He closed the door behind him, his stomach clenching with a mix of regret and worry.
He’d fucked up downstairs, he knew that. But after watching what really happened, fury had blinded him, and he’d acted like a Neanderthal, demanding vengeance for his lover.
But Gage wasn’t some fragile thing that belonged to him. He was his own man, a Raven, sharp as any blade, and Scar’s overprotectiveness had stripped him of that in front of everyone.
Guilt stirred in his chest, hotter than his initial anger. He hoped he hadn’t pushed too far and made Gage question their relationship days before their wedding.
He caught the white noise of running water from the bedroom.
His steps were reluctant and heavy as he crossed the bedroom and eased the bathroom door open.
The steam veiling the room was thick and warm, and filled with the scent of Gage’s powdery soap.
He stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his belt, then kicked off his boots and pants, leaving everything in a heap on the floor.
He went to the glass shower door, through the haze, he made out Gage’s form.
His toned shoulders were hunched and his hands braced flat against the onyx wall. He had his head bowed, letting the hot water pound over the tension knotting his neck and back.
Scar gritted his teeth at the sight of the red scratches on Gage’s sides and lower back, a taunting reminder of that obsessed fucker’s hands on what was his.
He forced calm, taking several deep breaths before he tapped lightly on the glass.
When Gage didn’t turn around, he slid the door to the side.
“Can I join you?”
“I’m finished,” Gage said flatly, brushing past him.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, watching Gage yank a towel off the shelf and leave the bathroom.
The rejection stung, but he wasn’t giving up.
He stepped under the spray, washed fast to rinse the day’s grime off, and was out three minutes later.
Scar toweled off roughly, cinched it around his waist, and followed Gage.
He was already in bed, gray silk sheets pulled up to his waist, lying on his side with his back to him, the curve of his spine a perfect shadow in the dark.
Scar stood at the edge of the bed with his heart in his throat.
“Gage, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough with sincerity. “I never meant to…y’know…make you feel like that. Like you couldn’t take care of yourself.”
Gage didn’t speak or move.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, hating how vulnerable he sounded.
After what felt like an eternity, Gage’s answer was barely above a whisper. “No. Stay.”
Relief crashed through him, loosening the knot in his chest.
He tossed his towel aside, got in the bed, and eased up behind Gage, careful not to crowd him too fast.
He draped his arm over Gage’s waist and pulled him close, his lithe body fitting perfectly against his chest.
Scar moaned. Gage was so warm from the shower, his skin impossibly soft and smooth.
Gage’s voice was muffled against the pillow. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
He pressed his lips to the nape of Gage’s neck. “Me either.”
Gage turned in his arms. “I just wanna forget about it.”
He kissed Gage’s shoulder, tasting the tenderness of his skin.
Gage’s breath was hot against his throat as he licked him with a slow, tentative swipe of his tongue that sent heat pooling beneath his waist.
“Make me forget.” Gage tilted his hips forward, brushing his soft cock against his thigh.
He nodded and whispered. “Anything you want, handsome.”
Gage’s hand found his jaw and guided their mouths together.
The kiss started gently, soft and exploratory, a sweet touch that intensified when their tongues met. A slow simmer until it became a full-on fire.
Scar groaned into it, the sound vibrating between them. Gage moaned back, raw and needy.
His cock thickened against Gage’s the more he moaned into his mouth.
He rolled onto his back, pulling Gage with him until he was straddling his hips. Gage settled all his weight on him, light but consuming, and full of quiet strength, as he began to grind against him.
“Touch me, everywhere,” Gage begged, rolling his hips, sparking friction.
He knew what Gage was asking.
He wanted the violation of Adrian’s hands erased and overwritten with his touch.
“I love you,” he whispered fiercely into Gage’s ear before he sucked the pulse throbbing on the side of his neck, drawing a choked gasp from him.
He slid his hands down Gage’s back, careful of the scratches, before trailing lower.
He squeezed his ass cheeks, massaging the firm muscles, kneading deep to pull louder moans from Gage’s throat.
Their dicks were hard now, rigid and leaking against each other. Scar aligned them as they ground together, the languid slide of skin on skin already becoming too much.
He gripped Gage’s hips, guiding the motion, showing him how it’s done.
The pressure crested, twisting tight in his balls as Gage’s cock throbbed on top of his.
“I need you so badly,” Gage panted, dropping his forehead to his shoulder.
He traced Gage’s parted lips with his thumb before he eased his thumb inside. Gage sucked it eagerly, circling his tongue around the pad, wet and hot.
Surrounded by blackness, his world narrowed to touch alone, just like his lovers.
Every sensation was amplified. The velvet slide of Gage’s tongue, the warmth enveloping his finger, the subtle tremors in Gage’s jaw as he sucked.
It made everything rawer, more intimate, forcing him to savor the textures and rhythms in his mind’s eye.
He slid his finger free, slick with saliva, reached around, and pressed it against Gage’s hole. The tight ring clenched instinctively, then yielded as Gage pushed back with a low, keening sound—the sexiest fucking noise he’d ever heard.
“Yes,” Gage cried, voice breaking. “More.”
Scar breached him slowly, the warmth inside gripping him like a vice. Gage’s thighs shook around his hips as vibrations, rippling through his body.
Gage eased his shaking hand between them, wrapped both their cocks in his palm, and stroked them in a ragged rhythm.
Scar groaned, toes curling as he imagined his cock buried there instead of his finger, imagined Gage’s virgin heat clenching around him so tight but willing…just for him.
He pushed his finger deeper, and Gage shattered, his back bowing as his cock pulsed in their joined grip, coming in hot ropes between their stomachs.
It was so intense it triggered Scar’s own release seconds later.
His spine locked as he jerked his hips up and came hard, his forehead pressed against Gage’s.
Panting, Scar flipped Gage onto his back, straddling him now. He rubbed his cum over Gage’s chest and abs as a low growl rumbled in his throat.
Gage was his, body and soul.
And in three days, he would make a vow to him that only death could break.