Leashed

by Skye Warren

  Drake tugged on the rope, and Sebastian was lifted up, up and over. He tumbled into the strong arms that didn’t even falter as Sebastian struggled. But in a second, he was nudged aside, and the rope went back down for Drake.

  Then Drake was there too, but there wasn’t time to react. He couldn’t bring up the words, the emotions, with this soldier between them.

  “Status?” Drake asked the soldier.

  The man cocked his head back, pointing to the conspicuous glossy black hovercraft behind him. “I have a vehicle waiting with the geocode disabled.”

  “Thank you.” Something flickered over Drake’s face. “You could come with us?”

  The man’s glance flickered to Sebastian then back at Drake. There was the smallest crack in his impassive face, just a sliver, but the light that shone through was blinding. Sebastian recognized it easily because he felt it himself, that gut-wrenching mixture of awe and love. “I don’t think so.”

  “Rory—” Drake started.

  “I’ll be fine. Just… take care of yourself.”

  A smile whispered across Drake’s lips, and Sebastian felt strangely uncomfortable, as if he’d intruded upon a private moment. Then it was over, and Drake and Sebastian continued past the man named Rory and into the waiting craft.

  Drake maneuvered them up high into the atmosphere, where the thick smog obscured even the high beams. They stuck to the skies as they cleared the cityspace.

  Sebastian pressed his fingers to the vents to soak up the warm air, but couldn’t help turning to Drake. “I don’t believe that about you. That you didn’t care.”

  Drake frowned. “You should. I’m not safe for you.”

  So that was what he thought of himself. It shouldn’t have been surprising. Drake carried the weight of the world on him. “You didn’t hurt me,” he pointed out.

  But even as the words left his lips, the response hung in the air. Yet.

  There were no promises between them. Sebastian owed him his life, but he had nothing to offer as recompense. A paltry blowjob would not suffice, nor would Drake appreciate a martyr.

  Drake was so far above him in every sense.

  They rode the rest of the way in silence. Sebastian wondered if Drake regretted his actions. If not now, then maybe tomorrow. He’d just abandoned his career, his life for a street urchin. Sebastian only had himself to offer as recompense, and he was painfully aware of how little he was worth.

  Chapter Four

  The purple-black clouds began to dissipate, giving way to blue skies, and Sebastian knew they’d left the city. When the smog was nothing more than thick smoky tendrils swirling around the hovercraft, he looked back. The dark mass blemished the pale sky like a bruise.

  The craft tilted in descent. Drake controlled the helm with the same quiet intensity with which he had interrogated him, with the same graceful efficiency he had used to break Sebastian from the Ke’lan prison.

  A blanket of lush green puzzled him for a beat. Treetops. He had been to the countryside before, seen the blue of the sky, but he hadn’t ever seen this much plant life in one place. And these trees were thick and clumpy, not the even grid of an oxygen sustainability farm.

  Startling blue gashed through the green blanket. Water.

  That seemed to be what Drake was waiting for, because he rode the river like a track until he brought them down in a small clearing near the bank. The hovercraft landed with a thud.

  The grim mask that Drake wore did not invite questions, did not encourage intimacy of any kind. Sebastian’s stomach clenched, holding in the questions he wanted to ask. What was going to happen next? Did he get to stay with Drake?

  But Drake answered part of it anyway, with a nod toward the babbling river. “Go ahead and clean off. We’ve got a couple of hours to kill before we can head back.”

  Still, Sebastian waited.

  Drake leafed through a supply pack then looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Head back where?”

  Drake sighed, though without apparent anger. “I’ve got a place in the city, outside Ke’lan gates. We’ll be safe there, but we can’t travel out in the open to get there. We’ll wait until sundown and then walk.” His eyes flicked over Sebastian’s welts and bruises. “You should rest now.”

  Sebastian made his way to the riverbank, determined not to limp. What had he expected, a declaration of love? Drake said kind words to him, words that spoke of respect. There was some physical attraction too, but that was all.

  The water groped his skin, stabbing him with tiny icicles that made his breath catch. He sluiced it over his flayed flesh, willing the wounds to clean out and just freeze the fuck off. It wasn’t like the warm cloth Drake had used, but then, nothing was.

  He needed to stop hoping for more. His time in Ke’lan province was over.

  He’d always been a drifter. This time he didn’t even have his father to bring with him. He’d drift away, but he’d be leaving his heart behind. He was free and alive, and that was supposed to be enough.

  Turned out he was a fool in love, but then it was only fitting. He was a fool in all things.

  Soap would have been nice but insanely cold water would have to do. He ran his hands gingerly over his body, washing away the blood and grime and ferreting out new aches to ponder. He ran his stiffened fingers over his limp cock and tucked balls, trying not to think of eyes as cold as this water.

  Then again, why did he have to deprive himself of such fantasies? Drake wanted his body. It was a little worse for wear at the moment, but hell, Sebastian could make him forget about that.

  He stroked his cock once, twice. Even though his mind was halfway there, his dick was firmly in hibernation mode. Well, that was some consolation—as incredibly hot as Drake was, he couldn’t overcome nature.

  “You’re looking well,” Drake said. Considering hung in the air.

  Sebastian’s hand froze on his cock as he looked over. Drake leaned up against a tree, naked and hard and glorious.

  Drake’s gaze raked him down and up. “Don’t stop on my account.”

  Sebastian didn’t move, but his dick hardened in his grip. So much for consolation. Still, he could not submit to Drake so easily. It had been beaten into him, starved into him that he relied only on himself. He didn’t give up a single inch, not even to someone who helped him. That was for suckers. And if he didn’t want to be that way with Drake, it didn’t much matter. Survival habits were impossible to break.

  “I thought I should rest,” Sebastian said.

  “I did say that,” Drake conceded. “But you seem tense.”

  A smile played at Sebastian’s lips. As come-ons went, this one was pretty blunt, but it suited Drake. “I suppose you can loosen me up.”

  Drake smirked. There was no other word for it. “I might be able to think of one or two ways.”

  “Just two?”

  “Well, you are injured.”

  The contrast between his staid words and naked form was too much for Sebastian. “Don’t hold back on my account,” he repeated Drake’s words.

  Drake’s hips jerked, the tiny motion drawing an answering thrust from Sebastian’s. Fifteen feet away and they were practically fucking. And suddenly, unaccountably, he was shy. The clear, low river left him exposed.

  “Come out,” Drake said, the low rumble like the purr of a large cat. Or a growl.

  Sebastian wavered, caught between disobedience and crippling fear.

  “I didn’t take you as timid,” Drake said. “Unless... Sebastian, if you don’t want to…”

  “No!” Seeing Drake’s uncertainty spurred him into action. It was one thing for him to think Sebastian was a dick, another entirely for him to doubt Sebastian’s desire for him. He sloshed out of the water. The air stung his puckered skin, but he was heated in his core.

  As he crossed the pebbled bank, Drake’s body tightened. It also hardened and lengthened to impressive proportions, giving Sebastian all sorts of ideas. When he came within arm’s reach, Dra
ke pulled him close and slid him against the tree.

  The bark pressed into his skin but didn’t pain him. Drake’s lips were on his, a hard, rough press of need. There was no finesse in that kiss, and Sebastian didn’t want any. He moaned and softened and told Drake with his body what he couldn’t put into words. I’m yours.

  The heat of Drake’s body speared into him. His lips, his tongue felt thick and clumsy under the onslaught of Drake’s clever manipulations. The numbness lifted in increments, like a tactile striptease. A firm hand behind his neck, holding him steady. The pressure of the other hand on his lower hip, pinning him against hard flesh. Soft hairs brushed his with every breath, every murmur.

  It came last, the hot brand of Drake’s cock against his thigh, like a climax of its own. It had seemed impossible in the cold dark of the prison cell. Even in the hovercraft, no. It was a dream.

  But the thick throb against his skin was too potent to be faked. Too perfect to be imagined. He was free, and he was with Drake. If this was all he’d have of his soldier, then he would make sure it was enough.

  “You’re so cold,” Drake murmured against his mouth. Even the soft heat of his breath shot needles into Sebastian’s skin.

  “I’m not,” Sebastian gasped, only then realizing he was breathless. He brought Drake’s hand to his cock. Feel me.

  Drake groaned and tightened his fingers. Sebastian bucked gratefully, fucking the circle of his fingers until Drake pulled away. Sebastian moaned.

  “So impatient,” Drake chided.

  Sparks ran through his body, electrifying him to the point of madness. Hell yes, he was impatient. But he wouldn’t beg, not so soon.

  Instead he gave it back, starting with a lick to his brown, pebbled nipple. He caressed Drake’s taut stomach, relishing the ripple beneath his fingers. Lower, lower, to the velvety hardness that belied Drake’s cool countenance. It jutted from his body, thick and ruddy and eager.

  Sebastian allowed himself to slide down the tree, accepted the abrasion of the bark to his tender backside. Let the world batter him to bits. He couldn’t stop them, couldn’t control Drake. He could only love this man, with his body, his heart. For a bit of rubbish caught under Ke’lan’s heel, that was more than enough. It was everything.

  He grasped Drake’s cock and pulled it, stroked it, owned it, if only for this moment. He looked up through his lashes. Drake’s cold calm was gone, taken over by feral lust. His lips twisted into a grimace of postponed pleasure. He looked like a man at the end of his rope, and Sebastian was just getting started.

  Sebastian darted his tongue out, a quick exploration, and came back with a smooth, salty musk on his tongue. His mouth watered, and he reached again, this time circling the broad head, laving the folded underside. Drake granted sounds only sparingly—a gasp, a rumble cut short—like a king bestowing favors.

  Sebastian pushed deeper, impaling the warmth of his mouth onto Drake’s buoyant cock. The tip scraped the back of his throat while his tongue played at the shaft. He forced a breath out and back in, before forcing it into his throat in small, short punches.

  The coarse hairs below his abdomen tickled Sebastian’s nose. Drake let out a hoarse, wordless groan of an animal suffering. Sebastian would have smiled if his mouth hadn’t been stuffed full.

  With a wet sound, he pulled almost all the way back and savored the picture of a beautiful man brought low. Drake’s arms rested heavily on the tree behind Sebastian’s back, his thighs shuddered with the effort not to thrust.

  Sebastian licked his lips. “Did you want more?” he asked innocently.

  “Hell,” Drake answered, though the sound resembled rocks grinding.

  Sebastian looked up, pretending to think. “Which did you like?” He swiped at the tip of Drake’s cock. “This?” He swallowed it whole then retreated. “Or that?”

  Drake grasped Sebastian’s hair, guiding him to the cock. “Don’t tease.”

  Sebastian sucked complacently, pouting.

  In reprimand, Drake slid his hand to the back of Sebastian’s neck, holding him steady for a slow, deep thrust.

  Sebastian wanted to prolong it, but the sweet pleasure of Drake’s dominance sang through him. A moan erupted from him, sending vibrations that ran along Drake’s cock and out of his mouth, as if they were one being.

  Drake thrust inside Sebastian’s mouth to the steady beat of bliss, bringing them both higher. Sebastian ached with the effort not to touch himself, and failed twice, earning himself a yank to his hair. But still, Drake did not come.

  He had the control of a martyr, but Sebastian was determined. He lightly touched his teeth to the vein on Drake’s cock. A guttural gasp warned him that he’d gone too far, caused pain or too much pleasure. How was he to know which other than to do it again? The second time, Drake bucked—hard—and Sebastian had to yank his mouth open to avoid biting down. Yes, Drake liked that.

  He allowed his teeth to scrape at the delicate skin, snagging it like a calloused finger to fine silk. Drake’s body thrust without rhythm, held on the brink of release at the edge in a state of pleasurable agony.

  Drake tried to pull away, and Sebastian knew he was coming. He held on, with his lips set against his cock, his hands clinging to hips. Caught in his snare, Drake roared out his frustration, his release, his ecstasy to the open country sky.

  Warmth spurted onto his tongue, and he closed his eyes and drank it down, tucking away the elation that filled him so that it could warm him on some cold, future day.

  * * *

  Drake would never get enough of him. Sebastian lounged, his body bruised but still beautiful. His eyes were dark and smug with carnal knowledge. It should have been a challenge, that look, but Drake drifted peacefully on the last waves of orgasm. There was nothing Sebastian could do to him that he wouldn’t welcome. There was nothing Sebastian could take from him that he wouldn’t give willingly.

  Dusk darkened the sky, but they still had time left, and besides, he owed Sebastian something. As soon as the weight of pleasure lifted enough for him to move, Drake tumbled Sebastian onto his back in the grass. Heavy-lidded eyes watched him.

  “You’re pleased with yourself,” Drake said. His voice came out hoarse.

  “Hell,” Sebastian mimicked the rough way Drake had spoken earlier, clenched as he was in need’s grasp. Impudent man. Adorable, fuckable man with a mouth that defied belief.

  He had overwhelmed Drake with only his touch, but Drake wasn’t without weapons. The long, graceful cock that pointed to the sky worked for him, and Drake planned to use it to full advantage.

  He surveyed the rest of the body with remorse. Sebastian had been hurt, and Drake hadn’t been there to stop it, not in time anyway. There were things he wanted to do to that body, all of it strenuous, some of it painful, but that would have to wait. Now he owed Sebastian only pleasure.

  “What do you want?” Drake asked, putting his hand on Sebastian’s cock. Not firm enough to provide pleasure but sure enough to claim possession.

  “Whatever you want.”

  Drake removed his hand. Wrong answer.

  Vulnerability flickered in Sebastian’s lust-drenched eyes. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Satisfaction worked its way through Drake, and he allowed it to show on his face. “I didn’t already do that?”

  A dull flush pinkened Sebastian’s bronze cheeks. “You know what I mean. There.”

  Drake delighted in the sudden shyness from the man who seemed so comfortable with his sexuality, when Drake hadn’t had any at all in years. Whatever well it had been pulled from, Drake wanted to wrap that sweet innocence around them both, shielding them forever from the harsh realities of a world at war.

  “You’ll have to tell me what you mean,” Drake cajoled. “I couldn’t guess.”

  The light flush bloomed to a crimson red across Sebastian’s cheeks and chest. “My ass.” His teeth were clenched. “I want you to fuck my ass.”

  Drake rewarded him with a caress down his cock, soot
hed him with a palm across his thigh. He tightened the grip on his cock to a fist. He slid his hand under the thigh, pushing it aside. Despite the fact that he’d just come, and come hard, his cock raged at full mast.

  He spread Sebastian’s legs wide, baring him open. His cock sloped upward, his balls hung heavy, and the dark shadowed prize waited beneath them. Drake probed the closed pucker, feeling it tense and release.

  Drake paused as uncertainty battered his lust. He’d never done this before. It had been years since he’d had sex with his wife. Since then he’d experienced only the occasional touch or taste with a soldier while they made camp. He wasn’t ashamed of what they were about to do, but he didn’t want to hurt Sebastian.

  Sebastian seemed to understand. He sat up and took Drake into his mouth again, laving it with slickness. When it was thoroughly wet and Drake could take no more teasing, he pushed Sebastian back into position and placed his cock at the entrance.

  “Let me in,” he said.

  Sebastian threw his head back, and Drake knew he tried to relax but failed. Drake dipped his head and licked the glistening tip of Sebastian’s cock.

  The bud under Drake’s finger only tightened farther, but he pressed on, suckling at the tip until the waves of pleasure swept Sebastian away. On a gasp, Drake pushed the tip of his finger inside. Immediately Sebastian clenched around him, small and hot, but he refused to retreat. He ran the flat of his tongue under Sebastian’s cock and slid his finger deeper.

  Drake worked the length of one finger into the unbearable tightness of Sebastian’s channel. Sebastian wanted it, he knew, but his body was unaccountably nervous, skittish, and so Drake went slowly, carefully. His finger coaxed and cajoled the trust necessary to accomplish their end goal. His mouth distracted and teased, methodically dismantling whatever fears Sebastian might hold in his mind.

  When the first finger could move with ease, the second tucked inside with it. Without grease this would be an arduous task, but Drake was never one to back down from a challenge, not when the reward would be so sweet. He wanted to see Sebastian’s face in rapture while his cock was buried deep inside. He needed Sebastian to lose himself, to come and come and forget all the pain he’d endured.