Chapter 11 #3
He makes a sound against my mouth. Surprise, then satisfaction. I feel him smile.
“Fucking finally,” he mutters into the kiss.
Then he deepens it, claiming my mouth with passion. It overwhelms every sense I have. His tongue explores every inch of my mouth, sliding against mine in conquest. He turns the kiss into a fucking battle. I try to match him and take back control, but he’s too good at this.
His hips grind against mine in a rhythm that makes coherent thought impossible. Each stroke of his hand on my cock matches the stroke of his tongue in my mouth. The dual sensation is overwhelming.
Garrett’s orchestrating my destruction with perfect rhythm. The pleasure is so intense I almost pass out.
When we finally break apart to breathe, I’m shaking.
His eyes are wild and dark. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
Garrett’s hand works me faster, grip tightening until I can’t hold back anymore. The pressure builds too fast and intense. My vision whites out as I come hard, release shooting up between us in hot spurts.
It hits Garrett’s chest, his stomach, streaking across that perfect skin. I watch it happen through half-lidded eyes, see my seed marking him, and something primal shivers through me at the sight.
“Fuck,” I gasp, trembling through the aftershocks.
But Garrett doesn’t stop. His hand keeps moving, still stroking me through the sensitivity, wringing every last drop from me until I’m shaking against the tree.
“Garrett, I can’t—”
“Forgive me, Wolf. Lend me your hand for a bit,” he says, taking my hand and wrapping it around both of us together. His cock pulses hot against mine, both slick with my release.
I can hardly breathe through the intensity of his touch.
“Watch,” he commands. He starts moving our joined hands, fucking up into the grip. “Watch what you do to me.”
I can’t look away. His cock slides against mine with each thrust of his hips, using my hand, my body, my release as friction.
“That feels so damn good,” he mutters, as his breathing goes ragged, desperate. His free hand braces against the tree beside my head while he chases his own finish.
“Wolf,” he groans, and then he’s coming. I feel the pulse and throb of him and see his release mixing with mine over our hands, our cocks, making an even bigger mess between us.
His forehead drops to my shoulder while we both try to remember how to breathe.
My chest heaves against his, our hearts pounding in the same frantic rhythm.
His hand is still wrapped around both of us.
The night air feels cold against my overheated skin.
We stay like that for a moment, pressed together against the tree.
Then I push him. Hard.
He stumbles back, catching himself against a tree. His eyes are glazed, unfocused.
“Fuck,” I mutter, looking down at myself.
I’m covered in both our releases. “I have to bathe again.”
Garrett laughs, the sound echoing through the dark night. “Sorry.”
I glance down at the mess covering my stomach. “No you’re not.”
“No,” he agrees, still grinning. “I’m really not.”
I walk back down to the river, cursing under my breath the whole way. The water is even colder now. I wade in and start washing, scrubbing away the evidence.
Behind me, I hear a splash.
Garrett wades in a few feet away. He starts washing himself silently. The playfulness from before has faded into something quieter. We wash side by side. The river runs between us and around us. Neither of us speaks.
I watch him from the corner of my eye. Moonlight catches on wet skin, tracing the lines of his shoulders and collarbones.
Water streams down his chest in rivulets, following the path of muscle and bone.
He’s being careful not to touch me, maintaining the space between us even though minutes ago we were pressed together with no space at all.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
All my life, I’ve never been attracted to another guy.
I never questioned it. In Tiamat, such relationships aren't forbidden exactly, but they aren't celebrated either. The guild doesn’t care who you fuck as long as you complete your contracts. But there’s always been an unspoken understanding that you keep certain things quiet.
I remember a story Shade told me once. I’d laughed at it then.
Two Dunethar assassins, he’d said. Deadliest pair the guild ever produced.
Both guys swore up and down they had no interest in each other.
Started some stupid game between them of who’d step back.
They kissed, they fucked and the dare went on for years.
The two ended up opening an orphanage in the valley past Tiamat.
Both of them are retired, living together, raising kids, and still telling anyone who asked that they have no interest in each other, waiting to see who'd flinch first.
I thought it was funny then. I’m not laughing now.
Shit.
I wade out of the river without a word and pick up my suit by the riverbank.
Garrett stays behind, giving me space I desperately need.
I make my way back to camp and dig through my pack for dry clothes.
The wet breeches peel off with some effort, replaced by clean ones that don’t smell like river water and Garrett.
I settle on the bedroll and lay out my weapons within easy reach. Daggers, throwing knives, the short sword. Everything positioned exactly where my hands know to find them in the dark. The familiar routine of cleaning my blades should calm me.
It doesn’t.
I hear Garrett return to camp, water still dripping from his hair and clothes. Footsteps move around the clearing, quieter than usual. The soft sound of fabric being arranged, his bedroll being laid out. Then the distinct scrape of it being dragged across the ground.
Closer and closer.
He’s moving it right next to mine.
The bastard.
I lie down with my back to him, facing the darkness beyond the fire. Behind me, the rustling stops. I feel the heat of him settling down.
“I won’t try anything,” he says quietly. “I promise.”
Relief washes through me. Good. We can pretend this never happened.
Except there’s something else underneath the relief. Something that feels uncomfortably like disappointment. A small, stupid part of me that wanted him to try.
I want him to ignore his promise and reach for me in the dark.
No. I shut that thought down hard.
I’m relieved. That’s all. Nothing else.
Silence stretches between us. I close my eyes, willing sleep to come and erase this entire night. But Garrett’s right there behind me. He is close enough that I can hear every breath he takes. Each exhale is a reminder of how little distance separates us.
My heart is screaming for me to eliminate that gap entirely, despite every logical thought in my head telling me to keep him at arm’s length.
I feel him move closer. His forehead presses against my back, cold from the river. His arm slides around my waist carefully, giving me every chance to pull away.
“I’m not trying anything, I swear,” he murmurs against my shoulder blade. “I’m just freezing my ass off from that river and you’re warm.”
A smile tugs at my mouth before I can stop it, small and private in the darkness where he can’t see. I don’t pull away. My body stays still, letting him press close. His arm settles around my waist like it belongs there.
Garrett’s forehead stays cold against my back where river water still clings to his skin, but his breath comes warm across my neck.
The fire crackles and spits sparks into the air while wind whispers through the branches overhead.
Night settles heavy around our camp, wrapping us in darkness and quiet. Neither of us speaks.
“I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at me,” Garrett murmurs quietly against my back.
Silence hangs between us for several heartbeats. I don’t answer right away, choosing my words carefully. “You have a family. Parents who love you. A home. Safety. Everything. How the hell did you become—”
The words stick in my throat.
“So fucked up?” he finishes for me.
I feel the air leaves my lungs as soon as he says that.
“I have loving parents, a good home, every advantage and every opportunity,” he continues, his voice rising. “I should be perfect and well-adjusted right? But instead I’m this… and you can’t understand it. How someone with everything could be so broken.”
The thought I’ve been circling all day. He’s put it into words before I could.
“I don’t want you to become...” I pause, searching for the right word. “...something you can’t come back from.”
“Why do you care what I become?” Garrett murmurs into the darkness.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I don’t want you to end up like me,” I say finally.
His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer against him. “What do you mean?”
“Because taking a life stains your soul. There’s no redemption for what I’ve done.” I stop, realizing I’m revealing too much. Showing him the rot underneath. “Every person I’ve killed leaves a mark. Eventually there’s nothing left but the marks.”
“Wolf.” He shifts, and I feel his forehead press harder between my shoulder blades. “You chose not to kill that merchant’s son. You took the punishment rather than murder an innocent. That’s not the soul of someone beyond redemption. You’re brave.”
Brave? I’m a fucking coward, Garrett.
We fall silent again. His hand stays at my waist, warm and steady. The tension between us shifts into something softer.
“You can be angry with me. Just don’t hate me,” he whispers, his voice sounding fragile and vulnerable.
“All right.” I manage.
“You can’t leave me either.” His grip tightens at my waist when he asks.
The requests keep coming, don’t they?
“I’m not going anywhere.” The promise comes out steady, even though I’m not sure I can keep it.
His breath against my neck comes out shaky. “Good.”
“What will you do?” I ask. “After you’ve killed all twelve and avenged those children.”
He’s quiet for so long I think he won’t answer.
“I don’t know,” he says finally. “Ask me then.”
“The five that are left. I’ll find them.” This vow I’m certain I can keep.
“I know you will,” he says. I can’t see it but I feel it, the weight of his gaze. “You’re the best tracker I’ve ever seen.”
I scoff quietly. “What makes you say that?”
“Because you found me,” he whispers into the darkness.
I feel him settle more fully against my back, his body molding to mine. His breathing starts to even out, growing slower and deeper.
The grip at my waist loosens just slightly as sleep begins to claim him. His voice drops even lower, almost too quiet to hear. “I’m glad you found me, Wolf.”