CHAPTER FIVE #2
Atticus smoothed his palms over Wyatt's thick dark hair, needing more touch or contact.
His body was trembling while Wyatt took his length down his throat.
The pressure and heat on his sensitive cock sent dizzying pleasure through his body.
He had to move and began thrusting as the climax was building and overruling everything else in his mind.
He came with a force that wrecked his body.
Wyatt never slowed; he took it all, swallowing everything Atticus had to give, and when finished, he pulled back and looked at Atticus with a devilish grin.
Atticus parted his lips slightly as he panted softly and returned the smile. "Fantastic." He said, and his smile grew larger.
***
"That's just the beginning, my love." Wyatt turned Atticus to his side and moved up behind him, lifting Atticus' leg, bending his knee up toward his chest, giving Wyatt a clear view of his tender hole.
Wyatt was so hard he thought he'd shatter if he didn’t get inside his beloved at once.
He stretched him some more, plunging inside three fingers, filling him and making him squirm salaciously.
Life did not get much better than this, was the thought that pervaded his mind.
Atticus reached back and wildly grabbed for Wyatt's arm and then his hip.
It was a frantic need for more, and Wyatt recognized his beloved's gradual meltdown into an erotic haze, and it was lovely.
This perfectly formal, buttoned-up, sophisticated man was coming completely apart in Wyatt's hands.
"Are you ready for me, Atticus?" He teased, his voice low and breathless. His response was instant and direct.
“Yes, yes, yes.” His breath was rapid and his body so tense it quivered.
Wyatt entered him slowly, gradually sinking inside one slow inch at a time. He listened to Atticus, the tightness of his grip and the sound of his breathing; he was enjoying this and made an attempt to appear otherwise. This was his beloved: honest and open and real, so real.
Once seated inside the hot, velvety embrace of Atticus, his control broke, and the ability to go slow and stretch out this first time together was lost in a flash of desire that consumed him like an inferno.
He held him and thrust inside over and over; the sensations were so sharp and overwhelming he felt his body tighten and his breath catch.
The tension took him, and his release was powerful and fierce; his body shook, and he wrapped Atticus in his arms as he sank his teeth into the Necromancer's throat.
The first taste was fiery hot and a little dangerous, and Wyatt was instantly addicted.
He drank deeply, feeling the essence of this man fill him and become part of his consciousness.
The bond wove itself together amidst the pleasure and the amazement that coursed through him.
It suddenly slammed into place, sending a shockwave of sensations roaring through his mind, and he saw him; he saw the Necromancer, the man and the illusion.
His thoughts were there, sharp and decisive, and his feelings were present, wanting and waiting to be seen, to be understood.
Wyatt understood, and he wanted this man more than he wanted life and breath.
He licked the wound, healing it instantly and leaving a scar a significant scar because he wanted everyone to know at first glance that this man belonged to him, and he would kill anyone who dared lay a hand on him.
"You're mine; you belong to me, Atticus, and I will never leave you.
I see you, I understand you, and I want you forever and a lifetime.
" He never spoke like this to anyone, and yet he wanted to bare his heart and soul for this man.
He wanted to shower him with all the love and tenderness in the world.
He smoothed his long hair back from his face and kissed him while slowly turning him onto his back.
Looking down into Atticus' face, he saw the same love and tenderness he felt reflected back at him.
"How did I ever survive these centuries without you, Wyatt?
You are the gift I never knew I needed." He wrapped his arm around Wyatt's neck and pulled him down for a more thorough, ravenous kiss.
The Necromancer had let his wild side loose, and Wyatt was the delighted recipient; he was the only recipient the Necromancer belonged to, body and soul.
They lay together, Wyatt holding Atticus to his chest and mindlessly stroking his lovely hair.
They were silent for some time, just taking in the magnitude of the changes that suddenly came into their lives and realizing they did regret a thing: Fate had brought them together, and their lives were now one.
"I love you, Wyatt. I have never said that to another being, not even my parents.
But my parents weren't the type to inspire love or even affection, so that's probably not a good comparison.
" Atticus chuckled, and Wyatt felt his heart stir with an unfamiliar fondness; it touched him in a place that was possessive and greedy for every part of Atticus and every moment of his time.
"I never said it to my brothers." Atticus amended his statement.
"I esteemed them and respected them, but I had never felt the power and fire of true love until you. The word belongs to no one but you.”
"I am a very lucky man," Wyatt responded.
"Thank you for giving me a chance. I've known little happiness since the fall of my home coven and had come to terms with the belief that I would end my days alone, and then suddenly there was you.
The odd assignment of protecting the Necromancer turned into the greatest thing to ever happen to me.
I met you, and my life will never be the same, thank God. "
"No one blames you, Wyatt," Atticus stated, and Wyatt stilled. "You saved everyone you could, and the ones you saved have gone to live full lives. The dead do not hold you responsible." Atticus spoke with such conviction and certainty.
“How do you know this?” Wyatt spoke in a whisper.
"They spoke to me; those that you carry with you have spoken to me.
You can let them go; they need to rest, Wyatt.
They want you to let them go." Wyatt didn't know what to say.
He thought of the men he lost and the friends he could not save, and one by one he released them.
With each one, a lightness took their place.
Atticus held his hand, assisting him in letting go. He could see what Atticus saw, and it was understanding and the need for peace. The process took no more than a few minutes, but the effect was staggering.
“I saw them.” He mumbled as the last one passed over.
“It was time.”
"Thank you." He said for lack of a better response. What do you say to someone who gave you your life back whole and sound? He held him, pressing Atticus' head against his chest. Atticus embraced him tightly, and they stayed like that for a considerable time, just breathing and existing together.