For the Clan

by Archer Kay Leah

  Oh god, she was serious. Roan swallowed back the doubts pounding inside his mind. Had he done to her what everyone did to him, making her out to be a monster when she just wanted to live? Had he misjudged her, assuming she was just like everyone else?

  "Your marriage—it can't possibly survive this. That's not how it's supposed to work. That's not what it means. A marriage is two people, Jace, not two and a third wheel."

  "And I think that's a load of bull," Jace murmured. "Our marriage works by what we think's best. And Cayra's no liar. If she said it's what she wants, I believe her. But if it's not what you want… I just thought…" He leaned back and faced the river. "I remember what it used to be like, kissing you. How we held each other. I hated going back to camp because I knew I couldn't be with you the way I wanted. I wanted to sleep in your arms every night, not alone. And that night, before the soldiers came, I'd made up my mind. I was going to tell my father about us when we got back to camp. Then I was going to ask you to spend the night with me. But we never got that chance."

  "But now—"

  "Now the people who need to know anything about this already know. The permission we need, we've got it. I've asked her a hundred times, and she hasn't changed her mind. She keeps asking me if I've talked to you." Jace clasped Roan's hand. "I don't want to lose this chance. Fifteen years. Fifteen long years of if-onlys, what-ifs, and why-couldn'ts. Then you show up and it's a million times worse. I still want to sleep in your arms. I still want to know what we could have. Please don't tell me you don't feel that. Please don't tell me I'm the only one."

  "You're not," Roan admitted, "but if we do this, if we go up this road, what happens when we hit the dead end? What happens if it all falls apart? Things like this don't just happen. There's always something."

  "Or not. Maybe it's time we try a little optimism." Jace cupped Roan's neck. "Let's find out what hope looks like."

  Roan met Jace's eager lips with his own. Lost in the soothing push and pull, Roan relished the perfect moment, offering every shred of desire he could as though it were the last time they would kiss. Even if they did nothing else, this would be enough. Despite the bitter years spent wondering if everything between them had been the universe's idea of a cruel joke, the whys didn't matter. The questions melted away, abandoned to the sensual familiarity in Jace's touch.

  In a deep breath, Roan sucked on Jace's bottom lip, teasing until Jace moaned. Years of neglect and solitary confinement had instilled something more demanding in Roan: a need he'd tried to ignore, unable to seek satisfaction. Now, that need clawed at his insides, the muscles in his groin tightening. Driving his tongue beyond their lips, Roan took in the taste of Jace, recognizing the mild flavour of herbs lingering in Jace's mouth. Thyme and basil welcomed him like a warm meal on a cold night, seductive to the senses, begging for comfort.

  A questing hand moved across Roan's waist and underneath his shirt, crawling up his stomach. One fingertip at a time, Jace ventured further, pulling the shirt higher. The small movements played havoc on Roan's senses, forcing him to lean into the tantalizing touch. He wanted to feel the warmth of Jace on every inch of his body, without apology or restraint. The only thing he wanted to be sorry for was taking time to recover between orgasms.

  Be careful what you ask for, Roan realized as Jace's fingertips circled one of his nipples, feather-light and playful.

  Shivering, Roan pulled away. "Is this really what you want to do? Here? We couldn't be any more out in the open."

  Jace grinned. "Why? Afraid of getting caught?"

  "Just thinking someone won't want to see this. And yeah, getting caught isn't on my list of things to do. What if someone comes looking?"

  "Then we run like hell or tell them to do the same. There's no place more private. And I can't think of any way more fitting than getting lost beside a river with you. It's just like before. You and me around nothing but trees and sky." Jace straddled Roan's legs. He slipped both hands under Roan's shirt, his palms soft on Roan's chest. "I think that's when you're at your best, away from everyone else. Maybe it's a magic thing. Maybe it's just you. But this is how I want you. This is how we kept falling deeper for each other."

  With deft hands and Roan's help, Jace tossed Roan's shirt aside. Silent except for the audible breath between his slightly parted lips, Jace gazed over Roan's fair skin and drew one palm down Roan's chest. He stopped at Roan's pants, hesitating before pulling Roan in for another kiss.

  This time it was Jace's tongue probing for more, lips pressing harder as if not only begging for Roan's mouth but Roan's soul.

  It was everything Roan would give freely. Jace would never have to beg.

  Working his hands up Jace's back, Roan slid the t-shirt upwards until the fabric caught around Jace's chest. They parted long enough for Jace to rip his shirt off before their mouths devoured each other again. How many times had they lain on the floor of the forest, chest to chest, but always covered? Now, nothing impeded the touch of their skin. Roan felt everything. Jace's skin was supple to the touch, his muscles straining under Roan's hold. In tandem, their breaths became shallower, driving Roan deeper into the madness overtaking them both.

  When Jace's fingers slipped over Roan's crotch, Roan's thoughts screeched to a halt. In swift movements, the button and zipper of his pants were undone, the pressure from the rough, restrictive fabric around his hips replaced by Jace's tender, seductive palm. As Jace's hand slipped inside Roan's boxers and rested on his cock, Roan's muscles clenched. He couldn't breathe. His arousal shrieked for more, piercing him with pleasure, soaking up the simple touch.

  Without warning, Jace stood. Despite all the words tumbling through his mind, Roan was speechless. Had he done something wrong? Was he missing something?

  Jace started undoing his pants. Roan watched, spellbound. All the words in Roan's thoughts broke apart, scampering into the back of his mind.

  In front of Roan, Jace stripped, baring everything on his tanned body. For the first time, Roan could see the chain links tattooed in brown ink across Jace's chest, curving upwards under his collarbone—the mark of a clan leader. And without a collar to draw attention away from his neck, the Sanskrit tattoo at the base of Jace's neck was more apparent, spanning the back of his neck from one side to the other. The skin over Jace's abs pulled tight and his nipples hardened, making Roan want to ease them with his mouth. His growing erection hung in Roan's reach.

  Just as Roan went to touch him, Jace turned and lowered himself into the river, holding the edge of the bank until he was steady enough to move three steps away and turn back.

  "Jace," Roan complained. The water came up to Jace's waist, lapping him the way Roan wanted to.

  "What?" Jace smiled, his gaze suggesting mischief as he skimmed the water with his open palms. Stepping up to the riverbank, he faltered then settled, folding his arms on the grassy edge beside Roan.

  "What are you thinking?"

  The response came quickly. Positioned between Roan's legs, Jace jerked Roan's pants down. With slow movements and careful footsteps in the river, Jace peeled Roan's boxers and pants off then tossed them onto the bank. He looked up as if challenging Roan to say no.

  The only response Roan could think to give was an eager kiss, his body craving Jace's until he ached. The idea of their naked bodies pressed together hardened him faster than his thoughts could catch up with. To refuse Jace now would be more insane than letting him continue. If the past had taught Roan anything, it was to take opportunities when they presented themselves, not question and balk until he was left wanting something—anything—to fill the gaps. His mind, body, and soul were exhausted from having nothing; they were weary of being tied up in the barbed wires of hate and self-deprecation. What Jace offered in the lightest touch loosened those suffocating wires, threatening to cut them with the sharp blades of what Roan hoped was love.

  Roan murmured his approval as Jace's lips traveled down his neck, sucking the skin in between his teeth. Jace's mouth skipped acros
s what part of Roan's chest he could manage, then to Roan's stomach.

  To Roan's disappointment, Jace stopped. Was that a question scrawled across his face?

  The two of them were in it together, wanting the same thing, Roan would've said, had he been able to make his tongue form the words. Instead, Roan cupped Jace's cheek, his thumb catching on Jace's bottom lip.

  It was enough to put Jace into action again. This time, his lips took to the inside of Roan's thigh. They snuck upwards, delving into the darkness between Roan's leg and groin. Roan jerked and moaned, thrusting against Jace's mouth. Jace's tongue flicked out, tasting the moist skin with just the tip. His strong lips kneaded, claiming the sensitive space as their own, his long exhale dancing across Roan's skin. Despite Roan's fidgeting, Jace's tongue settled low on Roan's balls then stroked upwards. Each caress followed the same deliberate path, but the pressure of Jace's mouth changed each time.

  The harder, demanding touches drove Roan almost as wild as the light brushes of Jace's lips. By the time Jace's mouth wrapped around Roan's balls, his tongue rubbing the underside while he sucked gently, Roan was ready to tell Jace to skip them and pay attention to his cock. Every time Jace's face grazed it, Roan fought the urge to thrust hard. It was becoming more difficult to fight. How much more of this sweet agony could he take?

  As if sensing Roan's desperation, Jace drew the head of Roan's cock into his mouth and hummed. Roan groaned and rocked, the vibrations overtaking him in a wave. Jace's mouth inched further, the tip of his tongue teasing the shaft and the foreskin's edge, trying to get in between the two. His lips pressed and pulled, urging the skin back before raking his teeth downwards.

  "Jace!" Roan clawed Jace's back, desperate to stay in control.

  The urgent cry only enticed Jace to continue lavishing attention on Roan's shaft, moaning as he swirled his tongue around the tip. The tremble in Jace's throat made Roan gasp. How many times had he dreamed about this? How many times had he woken in a sweat and found himself coming?

  This was nothing like that.

  Jace's hands glided over Roan's rocking hips to his buttocks. He pulled Roan closer until the end of Roan's cock hit the back of Jace's throat. Easing off, Jace sucked rhythmically, his tongue supporting from beneath, no longer playful but nurturing. Roan closed his eyes, the image of Jace's mouth on him burning onto his memory. It wouldn't take long before he'd come. Jace knew what he wanted, and he was getting it. Although a year had passed since Roan had last gotten off, Roan's body remembered what to do.

  A whole freaking year. Please don't tell me anything came of it. Hear that, God—whatever Your name is? I don't want anything to come of it. Don't let me be responsible for someone else's hell.

  The pleasurable agony pounding through his cock dulled. Fear attacked desire, thrashing it around until stuffing it into a void above his groin, trapping his need as if a gate had slammed shut. The rhythm of Jace's mouth was too familiar. Up and down, similar to the clear tube that doctors had strapped to Roan's cock more than a dozen times. The way Jace sucked hungrily reminded Roan of one of the machines he hated, draining his life away. As Jace hummed again, Roan swore he heard the sickening drone of the extraction unit.

  Roan sipped breaths. His stomach turned. He needed to flee. Scream. Fight.

  Jace pulled on him again, his grip tightening.

  Roan pushed back. He squirmed, trying to pull his cock from Jace's mouth. When Jace groaned in protest and touched Roan's arm, Roan flinched.

  Jace's mouth stopped moving.

  Roan clenched and unclenched his fists, fighting the urge to punch Jace. If Jace didn't step away on his own, Roan would push him. Either way, this couldn't happen. This wasn't pleasure. This was latent torture.

  Jace released him, his puzzled expression crushing Roan's emotions.

  How could he tell Jace the truth? He felt enough shame. To admit he didn't enjoy this disgusted him. He couldn't ruin the moment for Jace, too.

  Swallowing back the selfish guilt ravaging his desperate joy, Roan caressed Jace's face. "No, not like this. This isn't how I want it to be." He touched Jace's lips. "It's not you. Just trust me. Let me do something else. Anything else. Let me lead this time."

  Roan nudged Jace back before lowering himself into the river, thankful the water wasn't cold enough to kill his erection faster. The memories were frighteningly efficient at completing the task all by themselves. If he didn't do something, the entire situation would crash to a halt with neither of them satisfied.

  For the harrowing seconds it took to make a decision, Roan felt like a teenager again, shy and terrified of rejection. In his uncertainty, Roan kissed Jace, finding comfort in its safety. It was the one thing he could scramble back to in order to start again. At first Jace's lips were weak, confused, and Roan could taste the salty essence of himself inside Jace's mouth. Determined to show Jace they weren't yet finished, Roan held him tightly and leaned against the riverbank. Not wanting to rush, Roan caressed the inside of Jace's thighs. Fingers flittering across the end of Jace's shaft, Roan elicited another moan from Jace, then a tremble.

  Already his desire returned, clambering to give Jace what he wanted. He refused to be a complete disappointment.

  "Let me make love to you," Roan whispered, leaning his forehead against Jace's. "Like we should've then; like we wanted."

  Jace's response came immediately: a nod ending in a long kiss. They breathed in one another and exhaled together. Without speaking, they switched places. Turned towards the bank, Jace leaned forward as Roan's hand slid down the middle of Jace's back and in between Jace's buttocks. He pressed against Jace, hoping the contact would encourage his body to recover what he'd lost. He'd wanted this for too long to give up the moment. It wasn't about finding it later—he already knew what could happen on the other side of that. No, it was about being in the now; being who he was at this moment and finding the joy right then. It was about who they were together, reclaiming what someone else had taken. In their adolescence, they'd been full of desire and wonder, but too scared to explore.

  It was time to find out who they were as men.

  Roan slipped his finger inside Jace, slowly testing how far he could go. Jace sucked in a breath and reached for the grass on the edge of the bank. Carefully, Roan drew out slightly then pushed back into the wet tunnel of tight skin. Jace's hips rocked with each entry and withdrawal, the water moving around them in a soothing to and fro. Each time Roan entered him, Jace pushed himself further.

  When Roan laid his palm on Jace's back and encouraged another finger inside, Jace groaned and jerked, pushing into Roan. Jace's hip rubbed Roan's hardened cock. The agony returned, weaving through Roan in twisted threads of heat. Each time Jace made a sound, wanting more, the agony flared stronger.

  The sensations blazing through Roan's palms were no better. His hands felt as if they were on fire and freezing all at the same time. They prickled and burned. He could swear his nerves twitched beneath the skin, firing off messages a million times faster than normal. And in his head, nothing made sense. Every word was gibberish, a mess of numbers, colours, sounds, and images that didn't belong together. Roan fought to focus on massaging Jace, stretching Jace with the gentlest touch he could give. It was the only thing that settled the pinging inside of his skull. If someone had asked him for his name, he wouldn't have been able to answer.

  This was what he would give to Jace. Complete control. Utter vulnerability.

  Everything he was.

  "Roan," Jace murmured, his voice catching on a moan. He held onto the riverbank, rocking harder, disturbing the flow of the water around them.

  "I know, Jace. I know." After a lingering kiss to Jace's shoulder, Roan maneuvered over the rocks and vegetation of the riverbed. Clutching Jace's hip, Roan worked his cock into Jace with small movements. Each time Roan paused, Jace took a breath and pushed back, driving them together until he took Roan to the hilt.

  Roan coaxed Jace closer to the bank, giving him the chance to strai
ghten and relax. Pressed to Jace's back, Roan lifted his arm under Jace's and touched the bank. He kissed Jace's neck and rested his other hand on Jace's waist.

  Roan's stomach flipped as Jace's hands covered his. When Jace leaned back, resting his temple against Roan's, Roan swallowed back a sob. The simple actions said more than Roan could've thought. They screamed trust, something he hadn't had in a long time.

  "You've got me," Roan whispered, stroking Jace's cock. "I'm here, inside you. I'm yours."

  Barely able to endure his own mounting orgasm, Roan guided Jace towards release with a hard, quickening grasp. Jace gripped the bank, panting and rocking in rhythm with Roan's thrusts. Water splashed around their hips, unable to drown the sound of laboured breaths and begging moans. Roan couldn't think. He couldn't let go of Jace. This was who they were now. This was what they would share.

  Jace came with a cry and shudder, throwing himself back into Roan.

  The force of Jace's body drove Roan to his brink. Jace pleaded between whimpers and gasps for more. Roan's heart leapt out of its rhythm. The agony inside him exploded. Arms tightened around Jace, Roan came hard and fast, his mind going dark. Throughout his body, the alternating sting of fire and ice stabbed him worse than pins and needles.

  Even while their bodies recovered, the pain persisted.

  "Fuck," Roan muttered. How was he still standing? The sensations were worse than anytime he used his magic.

  "Yeah, exactly." After several moments, Jace drew away from Roan and laid his palms on Roan's chest. "Shouldn't you be dead?"

  "What?" Roan asked, breathing deep.

  "Your heart. It's got to be four times faster than mine. And apparently, Vens aren't supposed to get racing hearts. They can't beat faster without killing you."

  Roan swatted the air. "Urban myth. It's no different than yours, just double time. The body's based on that. Besides, that would really suck. None of us could have sex. And I know that's bullshit. Unless I'm dead, and you're not telling me."