Jere was quiet for a moment. “It was mostly that. But a little part of me wanted to protect you from it. I want to protect you from everything that could ever possibly hurt you.”
Wren smiled. “Okay, I believe that was true. But I’m a big boy, Jere. I can handle this.”
“I want everything to be easy for you.”
“It never will be. I’m a slave. You can’t make it easy, but you can share things with me. If I can get beaten and almost raped for you, you can treat me like an equal who’s capable of making decisions.”
Jere looked up at him, hurt. “I never thought you weren’t! I just—”
“You just wanted what you wanted, and you didn’t want to risk me doing something else,” Wren cut him off. “Stop it. You tried to protect me in the most demeaning way. Don’t sit there and act like I should be grateful to you for lying to me. Jere, we were supposed to be in this together. You spent months lying to me, to Isis, to Kieran... what the hell?”
“I was just scared,” Jere muttered. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“No. You weren’t.”
“It was stupid of me.”
Wren kissed him again, rediscovering the lips that he had missed so much while Jere was gone. Jere was scared and insecure, both feelings that Wren had far more experience with than he ever wanted to. Wren wanted to be angry, but there were so many emotions competing for prominence, he didn’t know which ones to attend to and which ones to push aside.
“Please don’t do that again,” Wren asked. “I love you, but I can’t take that kind of deception. It makes me feel like you don’t value my opinion, like you don’t even value my input into my life.”
Jere nodded. “I just don’t know what to say.”
Wren could think of a lot of things to say, but he was pretty sure that he shouldn’t say any of them right now. “This was a huge decision. We should have been able to make it together, like we agreed to. You had so many opportunities to tell me, and you didn’t. You chose every fucking day to lie to me. I was so angry. I’m still angry. But the whole time you were gone, even after I found out, I just kept thinking about how much I missed you and how I didn’t want anything to happen to you and Isis.”
“So, you’re staying?” Jere asked, hopeful.
“Still need time to think about it, Jere,” Wren reminded him. “You’ve had months to process this, you know. It’s new to me.”
Jere nodded, looking away in guilt. “Well, if you want to talk, I’m here. I can’t guarantee that I can be unbiased. You know I want you here with me.”
“I don’t expect you to be. Hell, you could have spent the last few months adamantly trying to convince me to stay. I just need a chance to think. I’m not packing my bags yet, especially not because of this. I’d like to say otherwise, but I might try the same thing if I was in your position.”
“Yeah, and you wouldn’t get caught,” Jere pointed out. “You’ve always been better at planning than I have.”
Despite the joke, it was clear from the look on Jere’s face that he knew he had done wrong. Still, Wren appreciated the playful tone. It was their first night back together. Wren didn’t want to ruin it by being angry.
Wren flipped Jere onto his back, pinning him down so he could kiss him more thoroughly. “You know I love you,” he pointed out, accentuating his words with bites to Jere’s neck.
“I love you too,” Jere agreed, squirming underneath of him. “And I won’t do it again. I promise. Thank you for being so understanding.”
“Remember a long time ago, you told me that what you wanted to do when you were angry with me was to talk about it and work it out?”
“Yeah.” Jere smiled at the memory.
“Well, I guess that’s how I feel,” Wren admitted. “I may or may not have wanted to hurt you in a variety of creative ways the other night, but what I really want is for us to figure out what went wrong. This keeps being a problem, and that’s not okay. It worries me and it hurts me, and yes, it pisses me off.”
Jere gave him a guilty look.
“It’s just... you’re home, now, and nothing bad happened to you or Isis, and I don’t really want to spend tonight fighting about it,” Wren admitted. “I have all these things I want to do with you, and arguing isn’t really on the list. I don’t want to waste tonight being upset. I want to put this on hold, just for a little while, just until we can get connected to each other again. I want you back. Maybe I’ll be angry at you some other time, but right now, I just want you.”
“You have me,” Jere replied, smiling.
“I have something else I need to tell you, too.” Wren tried to think of how to say it, but it just came spilling out. “I got jumped, tossed around a little bit, almost raped... and then, weirdly, saved by Paltrek.”
Jere stared at him wide-eyed, and Wren could feel through the connection how much it terrified him.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, recalling the events as quickly as possible. Jere deserved to know. “I got a few scrapes and bruises, just because the person who was levitating me dropped me a few feet onto the ground. They scared me; that was all.”
“They would have done worse!” Jere reminded him.
“They didn’t,” Wren countered. “I’m all right. We know to be more careful now.”
“Wren, I’m so sorry,” Jere said, still horrified. “I never should have left! I shouldn’t have made a bullshit announcement that I was leaving, and I definitely shouldn’t have been out acting like I was going to get another job somewhere.”
Wren shook his head. “No. It’s not your fault. This didn’t happen just because you left. It happened because you left, and because we pissed off the town by threatening to take away their doctor, and because of the way slaves are treated, and because Kieran and I were careless, and because people are terrible. It happened because I can’t defend myself here. I don’t have that right, or that ability. And it’s fine, because you have friends here, and I guess I do, too. You can heal the bruises I have from where they dropped me and we can work through this.”
“Where are you hurt?” Jere asked. As always, he seemed so eager to do what he did best.
“You can heal me before I fuck you tonight. And then we won’t talk about it anymore, at least not tonight, because it is still upsetting, and I don’t want that sort of thing in bed with us tonight. Just you and me. We can get back to unpleasant things tomorrow, after I thoroughly have my way with you.”
“Okay,” Jere nodded, instantly agreeing. “Whatever you say, my love. I’m yours to command. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”
Wren grinned, looking up with an evil glint in his eye. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not done with you, yet. I want to be there when you tell Isis, and when you tell her that you’ve been keeping it from her. That’s how you can start by making it up to me. Well, after the sex. God only knows what she’ll request of you. Probably ice cream; she’s a hell of a lot easier to please than I am. Even if she requests the special-order kind that comes from actual cow milk, it will be easier than making this up to me.”
Jere made a face, the idea of telling the most volatile member of the household that he’d been keeping secrets clearly not appealing to him. “That’s just cruel. But I guess I deserve it.”
Wren smiled. Isis needed to know anyway, there was no reason why he shouldn’t get to enjoy the telling. There was a small, sadistic part of him that enjoyed the idea of Jere suffering through the discomfort of confessing this to Isis, and essentially being indebted to both of them. The very thought of enjoying that was a little unsettling, but Wren had learned to accept the darker part of himself.
“Now, let me give you something else you deserve,” Wren whispered into Jere’s ear. “Not to mention something I’ve been missing out on for a long time.”
Chapter 25
Hot Passion
Jere was thrilled at Wren’s words. He had honestly expected Wren to be angrier at him, but perhaps Wren really was just hap
py that he was home. Maybe there would be hell to pay later, but right now that didn’t seem important.
What seemed important was the way that Wren’s lips were nibbling and biting at his earlobe, working their way down across the sensitive skin of Jere’s neck. Jere turned his head, trying to catch Wren’s lips with his own, but Wren was quick to respond, grabbing him roughly by the hair and turning his head away again, exposing his neck even more.
Jere complied instantly, going nearly limp and breathing deeply when he felt a sharp bite on his skin. He loved it when Wren was controlling like this, and clearly, that was the plan for the night.
“Feels good.” Jere’s voice came out much shakier than he imagined. He would never get used to how quickly Wren could make him unravel with just his mouth and his hands.
“We haven’t even started yet.”
Wren’s voice was harsh and threatening, the words growled into Jere’s ear quietly.
The mood set, Jere lay back and waited.
“I said you were going to heal me first,” Wren reminded him, his voice still low and growly in Jere’s ear. “Or were you going to try to skip that until later?”
“No!” Jere protested, only to be shoved away as Wren stood next to the bed and started undressing. For a moment, Jere worried that he had really offended his partner, but Wren gave him a slight smile. Jere watched in silence as Wren revealed the red skin, bruised and torn from gravel, along his hip and ribs and arm.
“It’s clean,” Wren commented. “Just needs healing. Itches like hell.”
Jere waited for his cue. “May I?” he asked, finally.
“Crawl.”
Jere’s breath caught at the casual command; Wren had been picking a speck of dirt off of his skin, but when he spoke, he flicked his eyes up to meet Jere’s. They were cold, quiet, and hard. It took Jere a minute to realize what he was even supposed to do, but when he did, he obeyed, crawling across the bed on his hands and knees.
Wren smiled as Jere reached him, and Jere was encouraged enough to place his hands lightly over the injured skin and heal it, making it flawlessly smooth in just seconds.
“Good boy,” Wren said, reaching out and giving Jere a pat on the head. It could have been demeaning, but Jere craned his head, closing his eyes slightly as he tried to stay in contact.
Before he could process it, Jere felt his hair gripped tightly again, pulling him away, then pushing him down on his back. He gasped and let Wren get him started at his own pace, knowing that any attempt to take control on his own would be rebutted. Jere enjoyed the way that Wren took charge, and he happily relinquished his control over the situation.
Poised above him like a predator, Wren worked his teeth and tongue across Jere’s skin, tasting his lips, biting his earlobes, licking and biting at his neck. Even the slightest attempt by Jere to change the course of their explorations was met with sharp, swift punishment—a roaming hand pinned down, a twitchy leg smacked, an adventurous tongue shoved away by a rough hand. Jere just relaxed, content to respond to Wren’s touches.
It seemed like forever before Wren even bothered to move below his shoulders, and when he did, his actions became goal-driven and almost methodical. He stripped Jere’s shirt off in one quick motion, unfastened his pants roughly, and jerked them off, along with his underwear, leaving Jere naked. Once he finished, he sat back, giving Jere an appraising look. Stripping wasn’t the fun for tonight; being naked was.
Jere smiled, reaching for him. “Now that you’ve unwrapped me, are you going to play with me?” He felt like a toy, given to an eager child.
Wren just gave him a dark smile. He didn’t bother reaching for Jere’s hand. “I think I want you wrapped up in something else.”
Silently, he got up off the bed, still staring Jere down. Jere lay back, waiting.
“Get off the bed.”
Jere obeyed, getting out of bed and standing next to it, waiting for further instructions. He smiled; he liked playing games like this with Wren, taking orders from him.
“Now get on your knees and close your eyes.”
Again, Jere obeyed, dropping to his knees, closing his eyes, and feeling his arms dangling at his sides, seeming out of place. It was only seconds before he felt Wren grabbing them roughly, pulling them above his head, tying them tightly together with some of the soft rope they had purchased. Wren let them go and brought them in front of him of Jere, who was unable to get too comfortable because of how tightly and thoroughly they were tied. The knots went from Jere’s wrists, almost all the way to his elbows, not just restraining his arms, but immobilizing them. Jere resisted the urge to open his eyes and admire Wren’s handiwork.
He didn’t have to resist for long, because he quickly felt a blindfold placed over his eyes, tied tightly behind his head. He waited, feeling his muscles tense as he waited for the next contact, the next command, anything from Wren. It seemed like he waited forever.
A hand in his hair pulled him to his feet, and he stumbled, unprepared. Wren caught him around the waist before he could fall, turning his body and all but throwing him onto the bed. Jere couldn’t help but wonder whether that little accident had been planned, and he grew hard at the thought. It was rare that Wren manhandled him this way, and he was enjoying every minute of it.
Wren positioned him on the bed like an art display. Jere had landed on his stomach, and Wren was quick to hold him there, pinning him with a hand in the middle of his back until Jere stopped trying to turn over. Once Jere went still, he felt Wren move, taking Jere’s bound hands and attaching them to the headboard, pulling the rope taut so Jere’s arms were stretched. Once he finished with that, Wren went to Jere’s legs, tying each one separately to the foot of the bed, leaving Jere wide open and exposed. Jere waited, eagerly anticipating the touches or kisses that he hoped would come next.
He jumped as he felt a scratch instead. It wasn’t that hard, it was surprising more than anything, as Wren dragged his short, perfectly maintained nails down Jere’s back, heating up little lines as he did. Jere couldn’t tell whether the heat was from the scratching or Wren’s gift, and he didn’t care. It felt good, despite the pain.
Wren was strangely silent. Jere hadn’t noticed it too much at first, but as they continued, it became increasingly apparent. There were no little whispers of affection, not even teasing comments, there was just touch. Not that Jere minded; he was quite enjoying what Wren was doing to him. Even the silence had its own appeal, forcing him to focus more on everything else that was happening. Combined with the blindfold, Jere felt like all he could do was wait for Wren to touch him. The feeling was mostly sexy, but given the conflict between them, it left Jere a little uneasy as well. A part of him wondered if it wouldn’t serve him right if Wren just left him there, alone, all night.
He probed slightly at the mind connection, wanting to make sure that everything was okay. He was allowed access for a moment, and he found pretty much what he had been expecting. Quite a bit of lingering, residual anger and confusion, hurt, gratefulness, and underneath it all, the deep, lasting love that he had come to associate with Wren. Jere started to smile, then he yelped, feeling a hand connect smartly with his ass.
“Ouch!” Jere protested, trying to turn his head to give Wren a dirty look. The position he was tied in made it difficult, not to mention the blindfold.
A matching slap landed on the other side, gentle this time, and it was followed up by a light, soothing caress.
“If you have a question, you could ask me,” Wren pointed out, his hands squeezing Jere’s ass cheeks, abusing the already stinging skin.
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Jere mumbled, embarrassed at being called out like that.
Wren continued kneading his skin, then gave his ass a few more slaps, all lighter than the first one. “You like that?” he checked, pausing.
“You know I do.”
“Yes, and when I want to check, I ask you,” Wren replied, landing a few more smacks, harder now, but still arou
sing. “It seems like you’re having difficulty with the asking part.”
Jere made the connection quickly, he wasn’t that stupid. Checking the connection first instead of simply asking was right up there with keeping secrets from Wren in terms of underhanded things he had done. “Wren, I’m sorry, I—”
“Hush,” Wren ordered. “I don’t want apologies. I want to play with you. Not another word until I’m finished with you. And if you even think of using the mind connection, you’ll regret it.”
Jere went silent, a little fear starting to enter his mind. He didn’t dare probe the mind connection at all; while Wren hadn’t made any sort of real threat, and while he trusted that Wren wouldn’t actually do anything bad to him, he knew he would regret it. Wren was trusting him to play along, and more than anything, he would regret breaking that trust again.
Wren was still and silent for a few minutes, leaving Jere to grow increasingly anxious. He could still feel Wren’s weight between his legs, his warm hands resting on his ass, the lingering burn of the scratches down his back. Jere shivered, more out of excitement than anything, and a few moments later, he felt Wren resuming, slapping lightly at his ass and legs once again, warming the skin there. After a few passes, the slaps stung more, and Wren drew it out, moving so slowly for someone who could move so quickly when he wanted to. Jere whimpered and squirmed, torn between the light pain and the almost overwhelmingly arousal.
It seemed to continue forever. The slapping and scratching, the warmth—Jere was positive that Wren was using his gift now, adding heat to his already scorched skin. He struggled to stay still, and when it was too hard, he struggled against the ropes that restrained him. They were tight, very tight, and Jere was thankful for it. He started to whimper as Wren continued relentlessly, slapping him over and over again, stopping only to scratch red hot lines of fire across his ass.
Just when Jere thought he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t bear another little bit of pain on his already inflamed skin, he felt it stop, and he felt Wren’s hands spreading his ass cheeks apart, dripping some lube that rolled down his skin, stinging as it came in contact with the fresh scratches Wren had left him with. Wren had to have known; he was dripping it all over, from all angles, and Jere tried not to squirm too much in response. Wren was quick to work it inside of him, opening Jere up with his fingers in a greedy, possessive way.
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