After a final caress with his mouth, Brien pulled away, his breath ghosting over Scarlet’s upturned nose, the high, pale ridges of his cheekbones, and then he swore silently, muttering a prayer. Then Scarlet’s long lashes fluttered, and Brien’s heart did a somersault. Could it be real? Brien’s desperation overwhelmed him. “I will not let you leave me.”
He clambered onto the altar, scattering and crushing snowdrops beneath him, and gathered Scarlet into his arms. Had he imagined that movement? Scarlet’s head lolled weakly against his chest. “Damn it, boy! Wake up!”
The edge of Scarlet’s mouth quirked in the merest hint of a smile, and Brien hardly dared believe what he was seeing was true. Desperate measures were called for. He wrested tight words from a tighter throat.
“Wake up, Scarlet. I love you.”
Silence. Even the breeze had stilled. Then a vivid blue gaze skewered him. “You…you came for me.”
Scarlet’s voice was hoarse and faint. Brien’s emotion choked him. An enormous salty tear trickling down his cheek, he pulled Scarlet into a kiss.
Scarlet’s warming mouth felt like the gateway to paradise. The woodsman’s arms looped tentatively about his neck, strength building by the second as the kiss heated up. Brien slid his hands downward until he cupped that pert little bottom, squeezing hard. Scarlet moaned, needful, into his throat, and then they broke away, panting.
“Too much?” Brien spoke between gritted teeth. The moment Scarlet had started kissing him back, his shaft had stiffened, and now he was ready to devour the boy—but it seemed obscenely soon. “Do you want…to rest? To talk?”
Scarlet tossed his hair back and laughed, dirtier than ever. “I want you to fuck me hard into this altar and bind me so tightly to you that you can never let me slip away.”
“That can be easily done.”
Moments later he had Scarlet flat on his back, both wrists captured in one of his big palms and stretched above his head. Brien matched Scarlet’s bright smile with his own.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
Scarlet’s lip hitched. “Shut up, my captain, and fuck me now.”
All the horrors of the underworld—even the Wild Men and the giant, squirming catkins—faded fast from Scarlet’s mind.
Brien peeled Scarlet’s loose, white smock over his head, and then, with steady fingers, he unhooked his own fastenings and stripped himself. Scarlet’s vision glided over the corded muscles of the hard body looming over him, energy radiating from every sinew. By the Goddess, Scarlet needed him.
He shuddered with impatience until hot skin pressed against his own chilled flesh. He could feel Brien’s heartbeat thudding next to his, and it was all he could do to focus on breathing. Brien’s hard length dug in against his upper thigh, scrubbing lightly, as if warming Scarlet to the notion.
As if he needed it. Scarlet’s cock jutted out like a dagger. He wanted Brien deep inside him, flooding him with his seed and life.
Once more he saw a question furrow Brien’s heavy brow. Scarlet stretched his eyes wide. “Do I really have to beg?”
Brien still looked far too serious. “Look at your birthmark.”
Scarlet’s heart lurched—but then, he felt nothing. No twinge beside his pelvis, only the galloping of his lifeblood. Raising his head slightly, he looked down, finding himself frowning in unison with his lover. “It’s…faded. I can barely see it.”
Brien’s fingers drifted adoringly over the creamy pale skin. “Do you know what that means?”
“It means I belong to you now,” said Scarlet. “And you alone. So…you’d better just claim me again.”
He loved Brien’s silent answers the best. Scarlet cried out in pleasure as Brien flipped him effortlessly over and pressed him down flat onto the altar. For a wonderful moment, he lay there, shuddering under the delicious pressure of his captain’s weight. Then Brien growled close to his ear, and he felt a hand slip under his belly.
“Onto your hands and knees.”
Scarlet felt weak and shaky, but for all the right reasons. Brien helped ease him up, and then Scarlet arched his back and all but purred. Brien’s fingers slithered over the curve of his spine, over his belly, and then—yes, oh yes—Brien skimmed gently over his cock. Smearing moisture from the tip, Brien lifted his thumb to Scarlet’s panting lips.
“Taste yourself,” he commanded.
Scarlet sucked the thumb deep into his mouth, lapping and circling the thick digit with his tongue. He could indeed taste himself on Brien’s skin, but the heavy, salty flavour of his captain was even more exciting. He savored it, groaning deep in his throat, but he needed so much more. When the thumb withdrew, his eyes scrunched shut, his breath growing faster and fresher as he wondered what would come next. He half expected to feel Brien’s needy cock pressing between his lips. But instead a calm hand stroked his buttocks. Scarlet drew a sharp breath and then held it.
“Please…more.”
There was oil on Brien’s fingers, and he circled Scarlet’s tight entrance briefly before slipping inside. Scarlet gasped, trying to relax his muscles and inviting the intruder to plunder as deeply as he dared. A second finger soon joined the first, stretching him—and then, plunging deeply and suddenly, Brien stroked his sweetest spot.
His world swirled toward a wonderful crisis point. Brien took Scarlet’s cock in his other hand again, sliding and teasing with an increased urgency. Scarlet wept and gasped, so swept away with his own bliss that he could scarcely hear his screams.
His balls tightened almost agonizingly as he felt his orgasm build. But no, not yet…he couldn’t come now, not without his captain inside of him, properly filling him. His inarticulate plea was understood.
Brien slipped his hand from Scarlet’s arse and spread his cheeks wide with the slicked head of his cock. A breeze licked the sweat on their brows, and they reveled in the anticipation of their oneness. Brien rubbed the nub of his cockhead over Scarlet’s entrance, probing gently before pushing a little harder, easing inside. Brien’s flesh and heat felt beyond exquisite, so incomparable that all other couplings paled into nothingness once more. Scarlet required little time to accustom; he loved the feel of Brien’s cock inside him too much. He urged his muscles to relax, murmuring his acquiescence. Brien nudged forward, farther in and then back again, still so careful that Scarlet emitted a wanton, needy moan. Then Brien plunged deep inside him, giving a thrust of such awesome power that the altar shook.
Scarlet cried out in pained pleasure, and Brien reared back, the head of his prick resting at Scarlet’s opening, teetering once more on that bittersweet brink. Then he drove forward and unleashed the power of his adoration.
Brien fucked to an accelerating rhythm, hitting Scarlet so hard that he gasped and writhed. But still Scarlet wanted more. Mustering all his energy, Scarlet bucked his hips back as Brien plummeted forward, impaling himself so far that the effort rippled down his spine. Brien’s heavy balls hammered into the curves of his arse, the huge shaft reaching unfathomably deep toward his belly, brushing his prostate again and again. Brien slid his arm around Scarlet’s waist, pulling him closer, and Scarlet willed him onward—yes! He wanted to be fucked deeper than ever before.
Everything disintegrated beyond the feel of Brien inside him and the energy that seared into him from the larger man. He had no power left to hold off his mounting rapture—not that he wanted to. As his captain slammed into him one more time, Scarlet’s cock hardened to a point of incandescent torture; the merest of brushes from Brien’s hand was enough.
His orgasm ripping through him, Scarlet clamped his muscles so tightly around Brien’s cock that it was Brien who gave the loudest roar. White-hot liquid splattered over Scarlet’s stomach and Brien’s hand as the fireball of pleasure finally exploded. Brien gave one last push forward as his own ecstasy overwhelmed him, and his seed coated Scarlet’s insides. Then he collapsed down on top of him.
They lay there on the altar, panting hard and gathering their senses as one. After
a moment, Brien rolled onto his side, making breathing somewhat easier for Scarlet, and hugged him against his chest. Dizzy and blissfully sore, Scarlet felt Brien’s cock pressing into the small of his back, still huge as it softened. He smiled to himself—yet even as he did, a creeping uncertainty reared its head.
“I want to stay like this forever,” whispered Scarlet.
“You can, my love.”
Scarlet breathed out slowly. His worries about Brien’s leaving, which had faded as they both struggled against death, came sharply back into focus. “So…so…you have decided you won’t leave the Greenwood?”
Brien’s chest heaved with a weary-sounding sigh. “I need to leave this place. In fact, very soon, I would like to leave the country. I have a fancy to go travelling overseas.”
“What?”
The desperation cracked Scarlet’s voice. Turning within the circle of Brien’s arms, he saw his captain’s handsome features were set as loving and placid as he had ever seen them. His own expression strained with horror—and a growing anger. “How…after everything…how could you?”
“I’m not leaving you behind, though.” Brien touched the tip of his finger to Scarlet’s nose, forcing his eyes to cross. “I’m going to give my winnings to Arya to buy back Carseald Hall, and then you and I are off to see the world. We might even wander as far as the Americas to discover exactly what those deeds entitle me to.”
“But…I can’t! Can I?”
Brien grinned his wolfish grin, which had Scarlet nearly exploding with confusion. “I take it that my beloved sister never took the time to explain everything that was in those missing pages from the Aeboda?” One of Scarlet’s braids slipped over his eye as he shook his head; he tucked it behind his ear again. “I thought not. Fortunately Arya is both a faster reader of Old English than I, and very good at explaining. Now let me tell you the rest of the story.”
* * *
Scarlet snuggled under Brien’s arm as they flicked through the missing pages, which Arya and Urhelda had retrieved from the stables, along with the deeds.
The lore of the protectors was becoming familiar to both of them. The leaves showed more figures shooting lightning, and there were gory diagrams of faederswica hanging from the trees. Brien and Scarlet flicked through them quickly, although one particular image grabbed both of their attentions: a brawny protector chained to a tree, a stream of incantations spewing from his mouth as green eyes traced the journey of a second protector—a wanderer. Unlike every other figure in the book, the wanderer was not portrayed in a forest setting. A sea breeze agitated his chestnut curls as a sailing ship bore him away. Absorbing this, Brien turned to the next page, and Scarlet squirmed uncomfortably. The first protector had at once broken his restraints and sunk his teeth into the neck of the wanderer on the sailing ship.
“But we’ve learned about you,” muttered Scarlet. “What about me?”
Brien cast those sheets to the wind, and Scarlet scanned the next. More lore—this time the wanderer was back on his sailing ship, and he was not alone. The strangest little creature accompanied him, a green-skinned elfin being with wild yellow hair and a long, gracefully looping tail. Scarlet bristled. “My hair is much more handsome. And I do not have a bloody tail!”
Brien grinned. “That’s a shame. I’m sure we could think of some interesting uses for it. But aren’t you interested in what the text has to say?”
Of course he was. The picture suggested everything he’d ever dared hope, and the anticipation made his toes curl.
“As we know, a wanderer has none of the restrictions of being bound to the Greenwood—except if he should choose to bind a forest underling to him. These bonds then override all others for both parties, so…where I go, you go. Where you go, I go. You’re stuck with me, Scarlet, and damn it, you’re not getting away from me ever again! I love that little arse of yours too much.”
Scarlet reeled more at the impact of the revelation than at Brien’s cheeky pinch upon his bottom. It all seemed too good to be true. He was escaping, he would finally get out of here…but damn it! A heartfelt flurry of regret diminished his joy. He wasn’t frightened, knowing that Brien would always be with him, but despite everything, he cared about the forest that had nurtured him. Brien leveled his brows inquiringly, and Scarlet flinched. Why were things never simple?
“You’re a protector of the Greenwood. With Jemima gone, you’re all that’s left of the ancient bloodline. Surely you should…stay and somehow continue it.”
The words were a wrench to him. Scarlet watched Brien’s gaze cast out across the tree cathedral to where Arya and her sisters were gathered around the cauldron, preparing the evening’s celebratory feast. Brien let out a contented-sounding sigh, which worried Scarlet further.
“Look, lad, beyond this forest it’s the nineteenth century. The age of feudalism is long past. I told you, I’m going to give my winnings to Arya and help her buy back Carseald Hall and all its lands. In the future, the Greenwood will be protected by those who choose to make it their home. After all, a free man fights much more fiercely than a mercenary.”
Scarlet nodded slowly, starting to understand. “And a free woman no doubt fights most fiercely of all?”
“I should think she does. Especially a Greenwood woman.”
“We will come back one day, though, to visit?”
“I promise we will.”
The shadows drew back from Scarlet’s heart. He snuggled close again, and they both fell quiet for a little while, reveling in the intimacy and in the peace of the forest.
But too soon they both became restless. Brien began to sing, the melody trickling deep into Scarlet’s consciousness.
When he sings, the valley rings,
And he makes my heart full o’ joy
Go where ye will,
And I love him still,
He's my darling woodsman boy.
No, they didn’t need to rest for long. Soon, very soon, Scarlet would dance forever to the melody of that voice. When he spoke, his voice grew more and more animated.
“I still can’t believe I’m going to escape. I’m going to cross those oceans, drink those wines…try on the finest fabrics from London, Paris, India…the world! I will see them all with my captain.”
Brien grimaced. “First things first, lad. I need to confess that I’m no longer a bona fide captain. I sold my commission well over a year ago.”
Scarlet thought about it for less than a heartbeat and then laughed. “Well, that doesn’t matter. You always will be my captain.”
“Fair enough. I like that.” Brien laughed with him, before his expression grew serious again. “But there’s a few other realities you need to grasp before you demand I take you on the grand tour. It sounds like you might just bankrupt me again. And you do understand we will have to be careful? We can never lie together like this in St. James’s Park or under a tree on a Parisian boulevard, my lad.”
Scarlet bit down into the plush fullness of his lower lip. Yes, he knew of the existence of strict codes of conduct—and copulation—in the world beyond the boundaries of the Greenwood, and that such a world might be strange and fear-provoking. He would need Brien to guide him, yet he couldn’t help it. He could already picture himself dancing on a long, sweeping table as he basked in the admiration of every masked stranger in a Venetian salon, while knowing, proudly, that only one man would ever dare touch him.
“I may become a little wild,” he admitted. “I think you’re just going to have to keep me on a very tight rein.”
In one swift, fluid movement, Brien had Scarlet pinned beneath him again. His hand slid up Scarlet’s pale throat, squeezing gently over his bouncing pulse.
“Don’t you worry about that, boy. I won’t even need the excuse of misbehaviour to constrain you in whichever way I see fit.”
The kiss was a devastating one. Scarlet yielded to the sudden onslaught, letting Brien’s tongue explore every inch of his mouth that his captain had so thoroughly claimed.
Pulling away, Brien sucked and tugged at Scarlet’s lower lip, glowering possessively into his eyes. By the Goddess, his cock was hard again. Both their appetites were insatiable. Brien rolled him over and slapped his arse, hard.
“Take me again!” yelped Scarlet.
The second swipe stung twice as much. “I love you,” growled Brien. “But I’m going to make you beg for it this time. So beg like you’ve never begged before.”
Epilogue
North America, One Year Later
Brien watched Scarlet as his jaw dropped lax. He, too, felt a strange sensation in his spine, a surge of anticipation. But Scarlet—Scarlet had started shaking. He’d been transfixed from the moment they’d left the horses to proceed on foot, to confirm that what they glimpsed on the horizon was really true.
Of all the wonders they had seen in the past year, nothing compared to this: the trees of the Americas, their deeply grooved trunks standing three, four, maybe even five times as tall as any great English oak, their crowns brushing the bellies of the clouds that sailed above. They had been told that these forests stretched onward over lands so vast that they could swallow up the whole of old England within them.
Scarlet stumbled forward over the spreading roots so he could place his palm flat on a gigantic red trunk. “It’s girth,” he murmured. “This old man must be…fifteen feet around—no, twenty, at least.”
Brien grinned. “They’re big boys. But we need to head back to the settlement now. It’s going to get dark.”
“No. Not yet.”
The forest was silent apart from the gentle murmur of the wind. The creatures here had no voices—or had chosen to remain hushed. Scarlet hooked a braid behind his ear and then turned, the pink flush on his cheek matching his new silk neckerchief.
“Can you hear them? Can you hear the spirits calling us?”
Brien’s senses heightened. Something was shifting, something primeval, and he realized it spoke a language he didn’t understand. “No,” he said gruffly, reaching out his hand. “Come on, lad. It’s not safe to stay here long.”
Bound for the Forest Page 21