Chapter Twelve

Luka paused on the threshold to the bedroom, taking in the bed, bright with quilts, and the heavy oak furniture. He’d made the furniture himself a lifetime ago, from a lightning struck tree in the yard. Coals glowed in the small fireplace set in the wall to the right, heating the room, and his face warmed, knowing Ravan was on the other side. But she had set wards, as he would, and no sound would pass between the walls. The thought alone made his heart jump and rush.

Rhys still held his hand, his smile curious, a teasing light in his eyes. Love was there as well, and need, and desire seared along Luka’s nerves.

“Stand by the bed,” he instructed, though they both knew it was a command. He’d waited long, intensely lonely years for this moment, never sure he’d have Rhys in his arms again. And in the morning, he’d answer questions that might drive them apart. He only had now, this room and this man who held his heart.

Rhys crossed to the bed, body lithe, firelight turning his hair to burnished gold. He was beautiful and Luka’s chest ached as his love overflowed.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, heart pounding, when Rhys faced him. Rhys drew a sharp breath, flushing under Luka’s gaze, but pulled his tunic over his head. The warm glow of the fire caressed the sleek muscles of his chest and stomach, and Luka’s mouth went dry when he bent to undo his boots and pull them off, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement.

Rhys straightened, and a smile quirked his full lips when he unlaced his britches. Luka smiled in return, knowing his love shown in his eyes, but he forced his gaze away. There were things to do first. He went to the fireplace and knelt to stir up the coals and add another log. Pausing, he thanked both the fire and Ravan for the warm room as the heat from the crackling flames kissed his skin. He thought of Rhys standing naked behind him and bowed his head, overcome with the joy spilling through him, and thanked the very essence of life for the gift of Rhys’s love.

Wiping at the tears forming in his eyes, he rose and picked up the bundle of sweet grass and sage Ravan had left for him along with a black raven feather. Bending, he lit the bundle at the fire. Sweet smoke rose in the air, and he straightened, inhaling deeply. His thoughts cleared, the fear and anxiety from the past few days dropping from his shoulders. He rounded the room to the right, using the feather to waft the smoke into the corners and along the walls.

Rhys watched him and Luka could feel his love and pride and mounting hunger. His cock grew heavy, but he ignored it, finishing the room. Once back at the fire, he walked purposefully up to Rhys, who raised his chin, brave and lovely. Luka kissed him gently, savoring his soft lips. Then he stepped back and used the feather to direct the sweet smoke along Rhys’s body and under the feet Rhys raised.

His hands shook as he set the smoldering bundle in a waiting dish on the bedside table, knowing he’d soon have Rhys in his arms. He noted the small vial of oil beside the dish and his blood heated, stinging his face, though he should have expected Ravan’s thoughtfulness. Going to the center of the room, he drew another cleansing breath and brought his closed hands up to his chest. He focused his power, intention clear in his mind, then opened his hands, palms out, and sent the energy outward to encompass the room in a barrier not even Aethan could break through.

“A ward, Luka? I thought Aethan couldn’t find us.”

Luka looked at him, and something in his gaze caused Rhys to flush a gorgeous red. “I want no interruptions,” he murmured, and walked up to Rhys, stopping shy of touching him. “Undress me.”

Rhys’s blue eyes darkened, and a sensual, deliciously naughty smile spread on his face. “With pleasure, Witch,” he replied, voice husky, but instead of touching his clothing, he cupped the back of Luka’s head and tugged gently on his hair until Luka tilted his head back. Rhys’s gaze raked his face, and it was all Luka could do to not ravage the sweet mouth so close to his own.

Rhys brushed their lips together, warm, soft, tempting. Luka held himself still, felt Rhys’s breath of a laugh. Then Rhys moved back and lifted the tunic over Luka’s head. Luka shivered as warm air caressed his skin, teased his nipples. A crease appeared between Rhys’s brows. “I wish I could see you better.”

Luka’s heart jumped, and he sent a thought to the fire. The candles around the room lit one by one until light played across Rhys body, glittered on the drop of moisture gathered on the head of his erect cock. Luka groaned, licked his lips, and forced his knees not to buckle, though he ached to have Rhys in his mouth.

He started when Rhys ran tender fingers along the deep scars on his chest. They’d never spoken of them and now was not the time.

“My pants?” he managed, silently urging Rhys to hurry before he lost control. Rhys knew him well, and while Luka always attempted to drive him to a fever pitch of need, Rhys did the same to him, toying with the knot, brushing his straining cock. He finally had them undone and Luka let them slip down around his boots.

Rhys knelt and undid the laces, and Luka put a steadying hand on his shoulder as Rhys removed his boots and pants, pushing them out of the way. Rhys looked up, and Luka gasped at the passion on his face, making him bewitchingly lovely. Unbidden, Rhys licked Luka’s cock, making it jump, and Luka lost his breath when soft lips closed around the tip. Rhys moved, gradually drawing him into his mouth, and a moan was pulled from him as his dick disappeared between his lips, the contrast of his dark flesh and Rhys’s white skin shatteringly erotic.

He gently moved his hips, and the moist heat and pull of Rhys mouth sent waves of pleasure spiraling through him. But at this rate Rhys would have him coming and that wasn’t what he wanted at all. Not yet.

Gently caressing Rhys’s golden head, he eased back, and Rhys let his dick slide from between his glorious lips. Rhys looked up, eyes bright, face flushed, and licked his swollen lips, making Luka groan again. He wanted to push inside him, right now, and spill into his lover’s body while Rhys came in his hand.

Instead, he pulled Rhys up into his arms, kissing him over and over, ravaging his lips of their sweetness. Rhys stepped tight against him, slipping a hand between their bodies to grip both their cocks, stroking them together. Luka permitted the unparalleled pleasure for a moment, then gripped Rhys’s wrist, nudging him back.

“On the bed,” he said thickly, breathing hard, hovering on the edge of orgasm. Rhys nodded, though he gave Luka one last squeeze before complying, mischief and lust flashing in his eyes. Rhys stretched out on the bed, hair spread on the pillows, firelight playing across his porcelain skin. Luka came undone; the love swelling in his chest came close to choking him. Never in his life had he thought he’d have such a beautiful lover, intelligent and kind and brave, and the faults that made him human made Luka love him all the more.

He climbed onto the bed, but instead of taking Rhys in his arms as he ached to, he crawled to the back of the bed and sat at Rhys’s feet. Rhys rose up on his elbows and raised a questioning brow.

“It will be difficult to fuck me from way back there,” he observed and flexed his ass, making his cock jut skyward. Luka laughed, joy once again running through him.

“Stop being naughty and lie still,” he said sternly, though he could feel the wide grin on his face.

Rhys watched him a moment then dropped his head back in surrender. “Do whatever you’d like,” he said, sounding a trifle breathless.

Luka looked up the sleek body, the white thighs and beautiful cock waiting for him, and swallowed hard. Gathering the energy not being used on the ward, he picked up Rhys’s foot, kissed the bottom and ankle, and then did the same to the other. He moved with intention along his legs, each kiss on Rhys’s body an invocation for protection.

The lush balls and cock in its nest of golden curls distracted him and he licked and sucked at them, taking Rhys into his mouth before letting him slip out. Thrilling at Rhys’s whimper of need, he came close to swallowing him down again, but he wasn’t finished. He continued on, his arms beginning to shake as they held him suspended over Rhys, his energy practically spent. But he couldn’t help pausing at Rhys’s pale nipples, licking and teasing them until Rhys squirmed beneath him. Chuckling, he moved to each side, kissed Rhys’s fingertips, palms, arms, the slim column of his neck.

Luka took his time on Rhys’s beloved face, kissing his eyes, the eyelids fluttering against his lips, his ears, the forehead tasting of sweat. He looked deep into Rhys stormy eyes to his fiery soul and blessed that as well, Rhys’s sharp breath ringing in the room. Heart full, he softly kissed his plump lips and Rhys’s breathing turned ragged.

“Please, Luka, I can’t… I’m on fire! I need to come,” he pleaded.

Luka gave a broken laugh and heard the strain in his own tones, “So do I.”

He stretched to reach the small vial of oil on the bedside table, then moved back to straddle Rhys’s thighs. Rhys’s body shimmered with sweat as did Luka’s, and he tasted salt when he licked his lips. Rhys stared at him, eyes wide, wild, and Luka’s hands shook, making it hard to remove the cork from the vial. He accidentally spilled some on Rhys’s thigh, but shrugged and dipped a finger in the fragrant oil. He nudged Rhys’s thighs apart and at long, long last, rubbed his finger against his hole. A hard shudder ran Rhys’s body with the contact, a deep moan escaping him, and delight surged through Luka. So responsive!

A finger wasn’t enough. He scooted back, pushed Rhys’s legs up and apart, and pressed his tongue against that warm opening. Rhys gasped, clutching at the quilts as Luka pushed harder, sliding his tongue in. Rhys’s thighs fell open in surrender and Luka fucked him with his tongue, Rhys shaking beneath him. Rhys’s balls pulled up and Luka moved swiftly, removing his tongue and replacing them with a slick finger. Another, and Rhys cried out as a fingertip slid over that spot inside that drove a man wild.

Luka swallowed Rhys’s engorged cock to the root, pushed his fingers in deeper, and Rhys bucked, sobbing Luka’s name as he came. Luka greedily swallowed, licking at him until Rhys whimpered, tossing his head helplessly on the pillows.

Rejoicing he’d made him come, Luka released his dick to look at him. Rhys lay boneless, eyes closed, an expression of bliss on his face, sated. Luka worked steadily in him, mesmerized by his dark fingers disappearing into his pale body. He ached to have his cock in there, the muscles hot and tight around him.

Leaning forward, he plucked Rhys’s nipples with his free hand, pinching lightly then harder the way Rhys liked it. He licked at his dick again, thrilling when he at last hardened. Now. Removing his fingers from Rhys, he oiled his dick, stroking it a few times, pleasure rippling through him.

Rhys opened his eyes, wonder suffusing his face. “Luka, what did you do to me? I feel more alive than I ever…” He took in Luka palming his dick and his eyes widened. Moving on the bed, he hooked his arms under his knees and pulled his legs up and open.

“Now, Luka,” he said hoarsely. Luka surged forward, sliding easily into him, groaning as heat and flesh engulfed him. Rhys pulled him into his arms and Luka buried his face in his shoulder, overcome with the beauty of the moment. They fit together perfectly, as if Rhys had been made for him. He laughed a little at the absurdity, but then he moved and pleasure exploded in him, driving all thought from his mind. They rocked together, Luka stifling his groans against Rhys’s neck. Rhys thickened again, crushed between their bodies, and in a moment gave a guttural moan, and Luka felt the warmth of his come between them.

Luka thrust again and again into him, grown desperate, sweat dripping from his brow, and only by degrees became aware that Rhys stroked his hair, his back, his words becoming clearer, “All is well, Luka. We’re here, together. You can let go.”

His orgasm ripped through him and Luka cried out in joy and pain as he came, his love and the anguish of the long years without Rhys spilling from him. He trembled when it was over, overcome, and Rhys kissed away his tears, holding him close, secure.

“I love you,” Rhys told him firmly.

Luka let out a quivering breath and rolled to his side, pulling Rhys snug against him. “I’m sorry,” he said, finding it hard to meet Rhys’s gaze. “I hadn’t meant to lose control like that—”

Rhys’s shout halted his words. “Luka, you were amazing! Never apologize for showing your love to me.” He stretched and laughed in delight. “What did you do? All my senses were heightened. I felt the lightest of your touches. Every inch of your girth—”

“Rhys!” Luka laughed, somewhat shocked by Rhys’s candor, but his heart sang at the mirth and fondness shining in Rhys’s blue eyes. He rose up on his elbow to look down at him and couldn’t help brushing a thumb across the wide mouth that could give him so much pleasure. Rhys smiled in such a way his heart thumped with gladness.

Rhys gave a sleepy yawn, but then a frown grew between his brows, and Luka wondered where his thoughts had wandered. “I’m sorry I lost the stone you gave me,” he said at last, the vexed tone directed at himself.

Luka laced their fingers together, bringing Rhys’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “It’s not lost at all,” he murmured, and laughed out of happiness at Rhys’s wondering look.