Lost & Found: A Silk & Steel Novella, #3.5

by Ariana Nash

  Trey quickened his pace. There was no reason for this to be awkward. They were both professionals. He slipped his key into the lock, acutely aware of Venali’s simmering a few inches to his left, and opened the door. Two steps inside and the door slammed closed behind him, making him jump and pull to a halt. Venali circled around to face him, like a wolf stalking his prey.

  By Alumn, he looked pissed. And he was fucking hot when pissed, his mouth and eyes sharp, his jaw hard and cheek flickering.

  “You left,” he said.

  Trey tasted his pulse. “I have a job to do, the same as you. It was time.”

  “You left.” He stepped closer, close enough that Trey could feel heat crackle off him, or maybe that was Trey’s racing heart.

  “I left you a note.” Alumn, he sounded like a dragon-class dick. Better not to mention the flower too.

  Venali’s gorgeous eyes narrowed. “I didn’t get your fucking note, Trey.”

  Wait, what? All this time he’d thought Trey had abandoned him? Shit. Trey swallowed hard. “I gave the note to Conor, I—”

  Venali clutched the back of Trey’s head. His mouth crashed into Trey’s with stunning ferocity. The sudden, startling contact flipped common sense and reason on its head. Trey threw an arm around Venali’s neck and pulled him in, suddenly, mindlessly, drenched in a torrent of needing Venali plastered against him. He plunged his tongue in, tasting Venali’s warmth and spiciness, his tongue sweeping and demanding all at once.

  Venali pulled Trey’s head back. His mouth scorched a line down Trey’s neck.

  Trey tore at his sentinel clothes, yanking buckles and ties, growling when they wouldn’t easily tear free.

  The back of his legs hit the bed. Venali shoved him down.

  Venali tore his coat off, freeing the rest of the layers until he stood bare-chested over Trey. Fuck, Trey’s mouth watered at the sight of his rippled abs and taut, warm skin.

  Venali fell forward, kissing Trey into the mattress, his gloved hands sweeping all over and everywhere. Trey had his hands in Venali’s hair, pulling his head to the side hard enough to make the sentinel gasp. Trey licked and bit at his neck, his shoulder, scraping sharp teeth across his skin. More, he wanted more. His hips bucked, body blazing with need. He needed all of Venali now. He’d thought of little else all winter. He needed this troubled, clever, brilliant, beautiful male screaming his fucking name.

  Venali kissed him again. His hand dove inside Trey’s trousers, grasping roughly. Trey’s thoughts tumbled, lost in desperation. Hands roamed and stroked and kneaded. Mouths gasped and groaned and spilled filthy words. Teeth bit and pinched, and by Alumn, Trey was losing his mind. He had no idea where the smooth oil came from but was glad for it when Venali grasped his cock and lowered himself over, sheathing Trey deep inside.

  Venali shoved at Trey’s chest, forcing him to lay back, and hovered on his knees. Trey’s hard cock clenched inside him.

  Trey dug his fingers into Venali’s naked thighs and arched, seeking more, throwing his head back. Fuck, Venali still looked enraged, even as he rocked, his ocean eyes whipped into a furious storm. Trey held his glare, meeting its challenge, tasting his fury. He dug his nails into Venali, holding him, never wanting to let go again. Venali rode him hard, his mouth flirting with a half snarl, the tip of his tongue skimming his lips. It was more than that. Stripped of the Ashford sentinel uniform, he was exposed and vulnerable, and raw, and free, and everything Trey loved about him.

  Venali fell forward. His gloved hand swept up Trey’s chest, his tongue swirled and probed in all the right places, and his mouth claimed Trey’s again. How many truly saw him wild, like this? Trey selfishly wanted it to be his secret, his true Venali, and nobody else’s. A foolish thought, but one he hadn’t been able to shake all through the winter months. He’d hated leaving. Hated himself with every step, knowing it had been wrong, a mistake, but his role as messenger meant he’d been unable to turn back.

  He growled, locked Venali against him, and rolled the male over, pinning him to the bed. Venali arched, trying to keep Trey firmly planted inside, but Trey had other ideas. He lifted free, collected the wetness on his fingers, and skimmed Venali’s hole, teasing his exposed sentinel, making him growl in frustration.

  Alumn, watching Venali gasp, watching his eyes roll and his sharp little teeth bite his lip, Trey wondered how he’d ever walked away from him.

  Grasping a pillow, he shoved it under Venali’s lower back, propping his hips up, and then the small pot of oil appeared in Venali’s gloved palm.

  “You came prepared,” Trey said, sinking his fingers into the warm oil and plastering Venali’s puckered hole, dipping his fingers inside to find that sweet spot and tease it.

  Venali threw his head back and sighed hard. “I’m prepared for everything,” he said, his voice low and broken. “But not for you. Never for you.” He stroked over Trey’s hair, the touch so gentle and his eyes so damn soft. Trey’s damaged heart cracked some more, letting Venali in. Fuck, this was never meant to mean more, but Alumn, it did. It always had.

  Trey kissed Venali’s mouth, tasting his sweetness and light. He guided his arousal into the sentinel’s tight hole, swallowing Venali’s rasping breaths with every stroke.

  He took Venali’s cock in hand between them, wrapping his fingers around the warm, silken shaft, stroked and caressed, listening to Venali pant, feeling his body clench and twitch and shudder.

  Venali came, clutching Trey’s shoulder, his seed spurting over his flat belly and hip. Trey loosened the hold on his own pace and control, thrusting faster, needing more, needing this glorious male writhing and clutching at him until the lines between them blurred. Ecstasy broke over him, shattering all thought. He came, staring into Venali’s gaze, losing his fucking mind and seed as Venali drank him down, body and soul.

  They tangled together on the bed, fingers stroking, kisses long and lazy. Trey needed to rediscover every inch of Venali, and more. He didn’t know how to say sorry over and over, but he could say it in his touches, say it in gentle kisses. So he lavished Venali in both until they were both spent and buzzed.

  “Was there really a note?” Venali lay on his back, Trey pillowed against his chest. His voice rumbled, rough and warm.

  Trey pulled back and propped his head on his hand, looking down at his messy, sex-drunk sentinel. “Yes. And a flower.”

  Venali’s auburn eyebrows rose. “You’re an asshole.”

  “If it helps any, I haven’t been with anyone else since I left.”

  The sentinel rolled his eyes. “I have. Many times. Must be every assassin by now.”

  A curl of laughter slipped free. “Slut.”

  Venali’s chuckles rumbled. “You use the strangest words.”

  “I pick them up from each village.”

  Venali shifted onto his side and propped his head up, too, mirroring Trey’s position. “There really wasn’t anyone else for you? No quick fuck against a wall, a passing blow?”

  Trey shook his head. He’d had plenty of opportunities, and he’d thought about it, but declined every time. There had been only one male on his mind.

  “Then it must have been lonely on the road.”

  Trey rolled onto his back. “I had my hand.” He grinned. “A lot.”

  Venali teased his fingertips up Trey’s chest. He’d removed the gloves, making his scarred touch a smooth caress. Knowing he couldn’t feel it meant the caress was all for Trey. “No wonder you jumped down my throat,” Venali purred, punctuating the sentence by nipping at Trey’s mouth.

  “That’s not what just happened,” Trey playfully chided. “You jumped me.”

  “I’m supposed to be working.” His kissing-bites found the corner of Trey’s mouth. “Sentinels do not forgo their duties to fuck messengers.”

  Alumn, it was good to see him smile, to feel him purr and strum and know he was okay. Trey had worried about the sentinel with every step that took him farther away. Leaving had been a mistake, but staying would ha
ve been one too.

  Venali nuzzled Trey’s neck and sighed. “I’m going to be missed…”

  You already were. “Did you catch Kalie’s killer?” Trey swallowed the knot forming in his throat.

  Venali withdrew and sat on the edge of the bed, facing away. “No.”

  He wished he hadn’t asked. “Any more deaths?” He rose onto his knees and swept Venali’s hair aside to deliver tiny, tingling swirls of his tongue to the back of Venali’s neck. He tasted so good, so warm and soft and spicy. Alumn, he’d missed him, and only now realized how much.

  “None.”

  It should have been good news, but the answers troubled Trey. Four deaths and then nothing? “Stay in bed with me now.” He nipped his shoulder.

  Venali groaned. “I have to work.” Turning his head, he smiled. “Bring your bags to my place. Stay with me while you’re here? I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Surprised? I have many talents, messenger. If you stuck around, you’d know this.”

  Trey sheepishly frowned. “I’ll be there.”

  Venali dressed and left after kissing Trey like he was afraid Trey’d leave again.

  He was the better male. Trey might not have been so forgiving of his action. Or perhaps Venali didn’t care that much to begin with. But he seemed to care, didn’t he?

  He was too damn good at hiding his feelings. Trey’s feelings were all over the place when it came to Venali. He cared for him, more than he should, and it wasn’t just the soul-scorching sex. The winter had been the longest of his life for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with walking away from Venali.

  Walking away had been easier than staying. Did that make Trey a coward? He had a lot to make up for.

  After dressing, he retrieved his bags, and headed for Venali’s room on the other side of Ashford.

  The main door was unlocked, so Trey went ahead and dumped his bag inside, then took the opportunity to look around. Venali had the kind of subtle eye for beauty in small things. Old, colored glass decorated what would have been stark white walls. He clearly liked light—what elf didn’t?—but he’d decorated his rooms in a way that embraced light. The times Trey had visited before, he’d been too distracted to really look.

  He eyed Venali’s bedroom closet and then took a peek inside. The gorgeous clothes made Trey’s traveling outfits look like rags. Each garment was cut and stitched to perfectly fit Venali. Trey salivated at the idea of seeing Venali in every single item and then unwrapping him out of them.

  Trey’s reflection in a floor-length mirror caught his eye. He wore the same as always, dark-colored trousers, snugly fitted but not too tight, and a sweater that sported a few threadbare patches and holes. Trey looked again at the contents of the closet. Venali wouldn’t care if he borrowed something? Just a shirt, maybe a pair of trousers. Venali was slimmer and marginally taller, but the differences were negligible. Trey selected something simple, a boned shirt, clearly designed to emphasize a narrow waist, and black, straight-cut trousers. His reflection told him he cleaned up pretty good. He gathered up his hair, tying it in a loose bun. When he thought of Venali seeing him, flutters shortened his breath. Shit, he was a damned elfling all over again, crushing on the Order assassins because they were the dark and brooding type. It had always been the assassins he’d lusted after, since the second he’d started looking at males differently as a maturing elfling. So proud and strong and heroic. He knew now the truth was far more complicated.

  “Venali, about the other day…”

  Conor’s voice sailed through the main room. Trey winced. Appearing in Venali’s clothes was perhaps not the best way to greet the male who’d chewed him out several months ago.

  When Trey emerged from Venali’s bedroom, Conor was staring at the traveling bag and Trey’s blade. He looked up and frowned. “You’re back.” His mouth formed the strangest wooden smile. “And getting comfortable, I see.”

  “Venali invited me to stay.” Why was this awkward? It never had been before. Trey approached Conor and the male’s tension eased some as he took in Trey’s attire, apparently liking what he saw.

  Trey would welcome that hungry look more once Conor answered a simple question. “Why didn’t you give him the note?”

  His brow pinched. “The note? Oh, shit, yeah…” He lifted his hands and laughed softly. “I know what you thought you were doing. I get it. You didn’t want to hurt him, so you left. That note… Trey,” Conor shook his head, “that note would have hurt him. It was better you break away clean, like yanking off a bandage—”

  “That wasn’t your call to make.” Anger frayed Trey’s nerves.

  “I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “I… I didn’t think we’d see you again.”

  And that was the truth. Ditch the note and forget Trey. “I always come back around, Conor.”

  “Messengers die all the time. You get distracted in other places, with other lovers, maybe you never come around again. We couldn’t rely on you. He couldn’t rely on you. So I did you both a favor.”

  “Wow.” Conor wasn’t wrong, but shit, Trey had feelings too.

  Conor cleared his throat. “You’re right, I guess. I… fucked up.” He dropped his head and sighed, and when he next looked up, regret showed on his face. “I had the best intentions. Forgive me?”

  He was damned lucky Venali didn’t seem to have taken Trey’s sudden absence too hard. “Sure.” It would take more than saying the words to forgive him, but Trey didn’t hold grudges. Life really was too short. “I guess I’m sorry too.”

  Conor sidled closer and reached toward Trey’s face. “Can I make it up to you?”

  An uncomfortable sense of wrongness soured Trey’s mood further. The three of them had something, but it was nothing like Trey felt when alone with Venali. And in truth, he didn’t want to share. Not anymore. Trey caught his hand and lowered it between them. “Conor, the times we were together… they were good, but I—”

  Conor’s hands gripped Trey’s hips and yanked Trey hard against him. “You look real good in his clothes.”

  He lunged for a kiss, the attack so sudden, Trey barely managed to turn his head away. Conor’s mouth skimmed his jaw, and then his wet tongue probed at Trey’s neck. One of his hands sank to Trey’s ass and the other lifted, coming around the back of Trey’s neck, pulling him down.

  Trey reeled and stumbled against the counter, surprise making him giddy. He didn’t want this. He got a hand between them and shoved at Conor’s chest, but Conor twisted and plunged in again. His tongue thrust into Trey’s mouth, hands suddenly everywhere. Trey didn’t remember him being this strong. Trey shoved a second time, tearing his head back.

  Conor’s fingers wrapped around Trey’s wrist and yanked, pulling his arm behind his back. “Dammit, Conor, stop!”

  The cool edge of a dragonblade kissed Trey’s neck, under his chin.

  He froze.

  “You never fucking got it, did you?” Conor hissed, pushing on the blade.

  Cooling blood trickled down Trey’s neck. A twitch and there was no coming back from a blade across the throat. “Stop,” Trey hissed. “Remove the blade.”

  “You don’t get to tell me when to stop.” The blade bit harder. Conor yanked on Trey’s shirt, ripping it free of his pants and plunged his hand down Trey’s waist, groping inside, his fingernails scratching Trey’s stomach. “Neither of you got it! I made it happen. IT WAS ALL ME.”

  “Con—” The blade cut deeper. Trey closed his eyes and tasted fear’s acid bite on his tongue. “Whatever this is, you can talk to me, all right? Just ease off and we’ll talk. Nobody needs to know. I’ll help you.”

  Let me help you, Nye. I want to… You don’t need to do this…

  “Fucking ease off?” Conor thrust his free hand into Trey’s hair and pulled, yanking Trey’s head to the side. “You don’t know what it’s like. You can’t know. But I’ll show you… I’ll fucking show you.” The words were more animal than e
lf. “He was mine. He was always mine. And you got between us.”

  Old wounds reopened, old hurts Trey thought he’d buried deep and far where they couldn’t ever hurt him again. I love him, Trey, not you! Trey heard Nye’s voice again, his final words before that toxic love had gotten Nye killed.

  Trey gritted his teeth against the rage and fear. History was coming back to haunt him, repeating itself over and over like a curse. Nye had been lost to love, and Conor was too. Trey should have seen it sooner, but he hadn’t, because it still hurt. Everything hurt. “Get the fuck off me, Conor!”

  “It’s your fault.” Conor yanked him around and shoved him back against the counter. He hissed the next words against Trey’s mouth, “They all died because you got in my way.”

  Oh Alumn, no. Not like this, not Conor. Trey looked into his eyes. Madness looked back. “Please…” Trey whispered, not caring the tears on his face fell for someone else. Someone lost just like Conor was now.

  It was happening again.

  And Trey’s heart couldn’t survive it. Not again.

  Conor grasped Trey’s wet cheeks in his cold fingers and plastered his snarling mouth over Trey’s.

  It was too much.

  Anger thrashed through his veins and snapped free.

  Forgetting the blade against his neck, he jerked his knee up into Conor’s crotch. The blade pulled across his throat, opening a bloody line, like the lines in Kalie’s wrists. The blade… was it the same one used to kill her?

  Trey’s breath snagged. Conor’s hand twisted in his hair and punched Trey down. The counter’s edge raced up. Pain exploded through Trey’s forehead. And then there was silence.

  The breeze gently caressing his cheek stirred him awake.

  Trey smelled grass and rain and blood. Alumn, his face burned. Heat throbbed down the side of his head and across his neck. Breath sizzled in his throat, and when he lifted his head off the ground, groaning out the pain, the noise snagged somewhere behind his tongue, catching on broken pieces.