by T. M. Smith
“Wa…wa…water, please,” he begged.
Cillian laughed at him, bending at the waist comically. “Yes, my liege. Would you like a blanket and a bedtime story as well?” Marching past Rian, he slapped him on the back of the head, hard, the pain and dizziness slamming into Rian like a freight train. Gasping, he dry heaved again, for real this time.
“I’m going to try and find some food and water; be a good boy now and don’t get into any trouble while Daddy is away.” Cillian taunted him from the door, shaking a finger at him and winking before disappearing out into the hallway.
Rian stood on shaking legs, moving over to sit on one of the broken metal chairs next to the wires that hung from the metal ceiling. Tugging on them experimentally to ensure they wouldn’t come loose and fall to the floor, he righted himself and sat, waiting for Cillian to return. Of course he could always make a break for it, but he couldn’t remember the layout of the bunker and didn’t want to risk angering the big man before he could set his plan in motion. A sudden pang in his chest and the hollow feeling of anguish played tricks on his mind. Rian could swear Cirian was there with him, calling out to him.
I’m coming, My Love. I’m coming.
Lost in thought, Rian didn’t hear Cillian walk back into the room, only realizing he was no longer alone when a big, meaty paw grabbed him by the arm, jerking him upright. “I said, get up and let’s go.” He growled, pushing Rian toward the door so hard, he almost lost his footing.
Shit! So much for strangling the life out of him with the wires. Where the hell are we going? Distracted, trying to figure a way out of this mess and not paying attention, Rian tripped over the raised doorframe leading into what had to be a kitchen once upon a time. Ankle twisting, he landed hard on his knees, hissing at the pain.
His captor cackled, walking past him, leaving Rian in a heap on the floor. He crawled the few feet separating him from the wall so he could lean against it and rest for a minute, weighing possible options in his mind. The concussion was messing with his mind though, making it hard to think, much less plan an escape. Hand to eye coordination was off, which was proven not ten seconds later when Cillian tossed a bottle of water to him and it sailed past his hand, hitting the beam beside him and making a horrible, loud clanking noise.
Grabbing the bottle and guzzling half in one swallow, he ignored Cillian when he warned against it. “Might wanna slow down there before you toss your cookies.…Oh, too late.”
Cillian laughed long and loud when Rian doubled over as his body purged the small amount of water he’d consumed. Weak from the multiple blows to his head, lack of sleep, food, and water, Rian couldn’t even manage to sit back up on his own. Reaching for the beam, he noticed when his wedding ring made contact, it made a loud, obnoxious noise.
“Don’t make me take that ring and shove it up your ass,” Cillian barked, tossing an empty bottle over his shoulder before unscrewing the cap on a second one and draining it. Standing and stretching, the big man yawned. “Yep, I think it’s time for a nap.”
He headed toward Rian, the maniacal look in his eyes a cause for concern. When Cillian reached into his pocket, Rian thought his heart would pound right out of his damn chest. The relief he felt when Cillian pulled out a pair of handcuffs was comical. At least it’s not a knife. Rian tried to calm his nerves. Grabbing Rian’s arm, he slapped a cuff onto one wrist, jerked Rian closer to the beam and pulled his other arm around it so he could cuff him to it. The absurdity of it all made Rian laugh out loud. Cillian stood and stared down at him. “What the fuck is so goddamn funny?”
“Really?” Rian held his hands up as best as he could, still laughing. “You storm the castle with a pair of handcuffs?”
Squatting down beside him, Cillian grabbed him by the chin and growled. “I can kill you now, asshole, instead of later, in front of your husband.” The look of hatred in Cillian’s lifeless blue eyes gradually morphed into something else entirely as he did a slow once-over of Rian’s battered body. The look was familiar and…oh God, no! Rian knew what lust looked like and somehow, in the past ninety seconds, Cillian’s mood which swung like hinges on a door already, went from pissed off and angry to being horny and, sadly, Rian was the only other person in the room.
The big man sneered at him, standing and pulling Rian to his feet with enough force to jar his insides. With one hand, he shoved Rian’s face into the beam; with his other he pulled at Rian’s pants until they came loose. Rian was not above begging. “Please, Cillian, don’t do this.”
“Shut up.” He snarled, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcefully turning Rian’s face to the side. He licked the path from Rian’s jaw to his ear. “Maybe I should see what a piece of royal ass feels like, eh? See exactly what I’ve been missing all these years while you’ve been warming my brother’s bed.” Rian struggled to hold back the tears stinging his eyes when he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. “You could have been mine, pretty boy, you know that. You should have been mine.” Cillian growled as he took the one thing from Rian, besides his family, that could very well break him permanently.
Summoning every ounce of strength he could, Rian separated his conscious mind from what was being done to his body. He floated high above the palace, like a bird, circling around the grounds while his children played as toddlers. He sat under a tree eating an apple, laughing with the kids while his husband napped with his head in Rian’s lap. When what would have been his brother-in-law, if things were different, finished using him, he bent and lifted Rian’s pants. It took what little self–preservation he had left not to laugh out loud at the gesture. “Damn boy, my brother is one lucky man.” Cillian taunted him, pulling up his own pants and fastening them. “Now shut the fuck up, so I can get some sleep.”
Rian didn’t know how long he sat there on the floor, handcuffed and broken. So many thoughts swam through his mind, it made his head hurt even more. Would Cirian still want him after this? No! He couldn’t think like that—of course he would, their bond was forged over decades of love and acceptance. As Rian sat limply, leaning against the beam, thoughts racing, he remembered a lesson he was taught when he went through training for The Order. He waited until he was certain Cillian was out cold before he started tapping his ring against the metal joist. Using the band that bound them for life, Rian prayed his bond with his husband would survive the coming storm. Three short taps followed by three long taps, then three more short. Please God, let this work.
Chapter 17 | Undeniable
August followed Hector through the maze of halls, confused and disoriented. Thinking he was being taken back to the room they started out in, August was more than a little bit shocked when he realized they were in the heart of the palace just before they entered a spacious bedroom. Hector reached into one of the bags on the bed, pulling out some clothes before shoving it and the other bags under the bed. He beckoned August into the room with a wave of his hand. “Here, sit, I’m going to get cleaned up.”
Dumbfounded, it took August a minute to comprehend he was being left unattended. “Wait, you’re going to leave me out here, alone? You don’t think I’ll try to escape?”
The expression on Hector’s face was one of amusement. “You won’t.”
“Really?” August folded his arms over his chest, refusing to move away from the door.
Laughing, the infuriating man shook his head before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. August stared at the closed door for a few seconds before crossing the room to sit down on the edge of the large, four-poster bed that took up more than half the space in the room. Running his fingertips over the soft blanket, he closed his eyes and thought about what the material would feel like on his naked skin. Even better—what the sexy man in the shower just on the other side of the door would look like splayed out beneath him. His long, wavy hair fanned out under his head. Those beautiful brown eyes staring up at August, the lips of that fucking tempting mouth opened as Hector gasped for breath while A
ugust drove himself into Hector’s body over, and over, and over…
“August?” Hector’s hand on his shoulder caught him off guard, and before he could think about it, August grabbed his hand and stood as he twisted Hector’s arm behind him and pulled him close. He barely flinched, eyeing August with a look that spoke more of need than of pain. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered, his eyes lowering to stare at August’s mouth.
It would be so easy to lean in and kiss Hector, to feel his lips, to taste him. “What are we doing here, Hector?”
“Waiting.”
“For?” August challenged. God, but he wanted to throw Hector down on the bed and fuck him in the worst way.
Hector stared at him for so long, silently, August didn’t think he was going to answer. “Why are you protecting me, Hector? What do you want from me?”
Reaching up, Hector cupped August’s cheek with one hand and his traitorous eyes drifted closed. His body betrayed him as well, leaning into Hector’s touch. “I think you know, August.”
Hector held August’s face in his hands, their foreheads touching, and August knew he was in trouble. When Autumn had talked about Maeve, how just the simplest touch or gentlest kiss had made her stomach do somersaults, August hadn’t believed his sister. But now, standing here alone with this man that had captured his full attention right from the start, August understood what Autumn had meant. There was no doubt in his action when August leaned in and kissed Hector. When Hector sighed and melted into him, August slipped his tongue past the seam of Hector’s lips and licked his way inside.
He pulled Hector close, reveling in the way the man reacted to his touch. Lifting the lithe body in his arms off the floor, August turned and fell onto the bed with Hector’s body underneath him, their hips instantly rocking back and forth. Pulse racing, heart hammering in his chest, August let go of rational thought and let himself enjoy the way their tongues danced together erotically.
Hector pulled away, his head falling back and he moaned. “Oh God, August.…What are you doing to me? Why do I want you so fucking much?”
August licked and nibbled his way down Hector’s neck, pulling the material of his shirt off his shoulder so he could bite down on Hector’s collarbone, making the man buck and writhe under him. There was a tiny voice in August’s mind telling him this was a very bad idea, one of epic proportions. Then there was the loud, booming shout in his head, screaming for August to take the man that was so willingly offering himself up. Of two things August was certain.…First, he would be dead as soon as Rian was found. It was anybody’s guess which member of House Gaeland would end him, but he wasn’t long for this world. And second, he needed to be inside Hector more than he needed air to breathe. He needed to leave a mark on this world, on this man, one that would shine like a beacon long after he was dead and buried.
“Hector, look at me, please.” He waited for the man to open his eyes, cursing the gods when he did. Pupils shot, eyes glassy in a haze of want and need, Hector licked his lips and August could feel his dick twitching. Forcing himself to focus, August gave Hector one last chance to walk away unscathed. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me now because I’m fixing to strip you naked, cover every square inch of your body with my tongue, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll still be walking crooked when you’re ninety.”
Blinking a couple of times, Hector stared up at him. “August.” Fuck, but his name sounded like a prayer when it fell from those lips. “Please, take me.”
The kiss was intense, all tongues and teeth warring for dominance. August bit down on Hector’s plump bottom lip, making him gasp. Slowly, he pushed himself up, never taking his eyes off Hector as he methodically relieved them both of their clothing. Starting at the tips of his toes, he made good on his promise to taste every damn inch of Hector’s beautiful bronzed skin.
August had only been with a handful of men in his young life, but this time it felt different than it ever had before. He’d never had a lover as vocal as Hector—that much was certain. His moans, groans, and the delicious pleas he offered August were magnificent. “Mmmmmmm, yes, more,” Hector begged. When August finally took Hector’s thick cock into his mouth, the man’s back bowed up off the bed and he cried out, digging his heels into the bed. “Oh God, August, you feel amazing.”
Lord God almighty, but this man was good for his ego. He sucked and teased until Hector’s body tensed and he sat up, gripping the base of his cock to stop him from coming. “Not yet.” August shook his head, laughing out loud at the look of frustration on Hector’s face. In a flash, August was on his back on the bed, Hector straddling him. Lightning struck when their cocks touched, and August swore he saw stars.
Lifting August’s arms above his head, Hector held them there, their fingers twined as he bent and kissed him. The rightness of their union, the fact that August felt at peace with this man didn’t go unnoticed. Rather than overthink it, August wrapped his hand around Hector’s cock instead. It was like velvet steel, hot and dripping on his stomach. Hector leaned back, bracing himself on August’s knees and slowly undulating his hips, his shaft sliding, rocking in and out of August’s hand as August’s prick slid up and down the crease of Hector’s ass.
Leaning all the way back, his head hovering above August’s feet, Hector snatched a stem from the allive plant sitting on the bedside table. Upright again, he reached behind him and crushed the stem in his hand against the rigidity of August’s cock, successfully lubricating it. A quick brush of fingers over his own hole before lifting up on his knees and then August’s cock was being engulfed by tight heat. His eyes rolled back into his head. “Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned, grabbing Hector by the hips to slow his descent. He wanted to savor every goddamn second of this and there was no way he was going to let Hector rush it.
Then again, judging by the raw, primal look in Hector’s eyes he could probably get the man to come more than once. Easing his grip, August let Hector take the lead again, sitting back and enjoying the ride, literally. Eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head, Hector rode his cock with abandon. He ran his hands up and down Hector’s torso, feeling his muscles contract and quiver every time he took the full length of August’s cock into his body. Hips rocking back and forth, the sexy man that made August question…everything, looked like he was right where he belonged.
“August, yes, more, deeper…oh God…right, oh, right there.” Hector begged and pleaded, the word God enunciated with several extra syllables if that was even possible. Bracing his hands on August’s chest, Hector rode the waves of pleasure as he fell over the edge, thick ropes of come painting both men’s abdomens, a drop landing on August’s chin. His slender, lithe body jerked and convulsed as his beautiful brown eyes rolled back into his head.
Giving him time to enjoy every last spasm, August rolled them until he was on top, grabbing Hector’s hands and pinning them to the bed. “Brace yourself baby, it’s my turn.” He growled, slamming into Hector over and over and over, and the reality of fucking the man was far superior to his thoughts of the act.
“Kiss me,” Hector begged, gasping when August drove into him so hard it moved them across the bed a couple of inches. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated, rattling their teeth as August continued to fuck him relentlessly. “More…deeper, please!” Hector was wild and uninhibited and obviously, wanted August to leave his mark on him as much as August felt the need to mark him. They’d made it to the headboard, Hector reaching up and placing his hand between his head and the unforgiving wood, probably to stop himself from being pounded through the wall.
“Oh God, Oh God, OH GOD!” Hector shouted, each time growing louder and then his ass tightened around August’s dick to the point of pain, pulling his orgasm from his body by force. August fell onto Hector, boneless and spent. His entire body was on sensory overload, so he was surprised he even noticed Hector had come again, the feeling warm and wet between them.
As the feeling in h
is legs returned so did a sense of dread, spreading out over his limbs like fog on a dreary day. Looking down at Hector, seeing the happiness in his face had August cursing himself. “Hector, I…” What did he say? Climbing out of bed, he stood and walked over to the window that looked out over the rocky edge of the palace grounds.
“Talk to me; what’s wrong?” Hector asked.
August laughed grimly. “This, you, us—everything. I woke up yesterday morning determined to do something I know now was wrong, and I’m thankful you talked me down. But, damn, it’s all so much so fast, Hector.” There were more words and insane thoughts just out of reach, but August let his voice trail off instead of giving them a voice.
Hector sighed, the soft sound resonating throughout the room. “I know it’s fast, but can’t you feel it? We’re drawn to each other, August. Why I can’t say, but I really want to figure it out. Don’t you?”
He didn’t respond, just stood silent, watching the breeze move the trees outside the bedroom window. “August, come here.” Hector’s voice was firm, like cold ice water down his back. Turning and leaning against the window, he glared. Who the fuck was this man to demand anything of him?