Healing Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “Oh.” Ric looked at Dafydd. “How do I say ‘forgiven’ in Welsh?”

  Dafydd seemed surprised at the question. He answered anyway. “Maddau.” Then he repeated it.

  Ric said the word to the baby, certain he was mangling it and unsure if the child would know the word. It did the trick, though. Idris pulled his thumb out and gave him a toothy grin. “Here.” Ric gave the toy back.

  He realized everyone else at the table remained quiet. They were all staring at them. He shrugged. “I guess that settles who’s the boss.”

  “Indeed,” Alex agreed before resuming his conversation with Val.

  Dafydd sat opposite Ric in order to feed Idris. They shared a smile. Nothing needed saying. Dafydd was acting like a real father, and more importantly, Idris was accepting his authority. The small interaction proved that with the right upbringing, Idris could overcome his evil paternal heritage.

  As dinner progressed, Ric felt the weight of the day lift. He was able to enjoy his meal and look forward to having a night with Dafydd to himself. The possibilities were intriguing and nerve-racking. Without Idris to cock-block them both, was tonight the time to take their relationship to another level?

  No, don’t be greedy. You’re taking it slow, remember?

  “Dr. Paz?”

  “Sorry?” He looked down the table at Alex.

  “Has anyone informed you of the accelerated renovation schedule?”

  “Ah, yes, Lucien mentioned it. I’m going to spend this weekend helping Dafydd pick out what he needs for his apartment.”

  “Excellent, thank you.” He leaned over the table and dropped his voice. “Malcolm and Brenin are keen to return.”

  “I think I heard him mention that on the voyage back from Maine.” He wasn’t sure where exactly this conversation was going. Dafydd played with his food, though, obviously listening and trying not to show concern. Ric wasn’t fooled.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Alex glanced at Val. “Not as such, no. It’s only that they intend to bring a couple of their newly-acquired charges from Wales with them, along with Willem and his daughter. With matters unfolding as they are, I want everyone under one roof, as it were, better to be contained in a defensible position. And Annika may prove particularly useful with our guest, if in no other way.”

  Ric figured he understood what the guy meant. The hybrid was a problem. If he were brought here, he could be controlled better with so many alien men to lend a hand. As for the girl…he remembered how strange she was. How that fit in with anything wasn’t obvious.

  She’s not human.

  The truth hit him like the proverbial thunderbolt. While in Scotland, he hadn’t had much time or opportunity to dwell on it. The mission, then caring for Dafydd, had consumed him. He’d brushed off noting that an alien had adopted the child of a dead lover. Now, he could see the obvious. The girl had been preternaturally intelligent and her knowledge of the alien language was impossible for a human. Ric might never do a good job of twisting his tongue around to pronounce Welsh correctly, but at least it wasn’t sounds that required a different physiology. But how had it happened? He’d thought these aliens could only produce sons.

  He shook his head. “Wait…what?”

  Alex held up his hand and glanced around the kitchen. Emil’s human staff hustled about. “I apologize. This isn’t the place and, really, there is nothing to tell until they arrive. I am as mystified as you are, Doctor.”

  Ric reached across the table without thinking and took hold of Dafydd’s hand, who didn’t resist when he clasped it. “This doesn’t present any greater danger to Dafydd or Idris, does it?”

  “No. If anything, it will make them safer.”

  “All right, then. Just tell me what you need me to do and I’m there.”

  Alex nodded. “I’m counting on it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dafydd let Ric hold his hand all the way from Lucien’s apartment to the bedroom. It wasn’t far and it obviously made Ric happy to have the contact. It felt nice, as well, truth be told. Like kissing, it wasn’t something that anyone had done with him, at least not once he’d passed early childhood. There were no bad memories to associate it with, so falling into the habit was easy.

  “Lucien seemed genuinely happy to have Idris for the night, don’t you think?” he asked, trying not to worry that he’d given in too quickly.

  “I think he really is. But, I also think he’s being nice and giving us time alone.”

  “Oh.” Dafydd worried his lower lip. “Perhaps I should go get the boy, then.”

  “No.” Ric shook his head. “I’m only telling you that because I want you to trust that I’ll be honest with you. It’s okay to take a helping hand now and again. You’re doing remarkably well with the baby.”

  The praise warmed him. “You think?”

  “Absolutely. You tamed the beast like a pro during dinner.”

  “Oh, that.” While pleased with himself, he didn’t want to make much of a fuss about doing the ordinary. “I channeled my gran, that’s all. She would have added in a boxed ear, but I don’t want him to grow up thinking it’s okay to handle problems with violence.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly.”

  When they entered the room, Ric dropped his hand in order to go put the laptop he carried onto the dresser. Dafydd missed the contact immediately. Still surprised at his reactions to touch, he stared at his hand and flexed his fingers a few times.

  “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  Dafydd waved the concern away. “No. I like holding hands.”

  Ric was pleased by the admission. “Good. We’ll do it more, then. All day tomorrow on our outing, if you like.” He sighed. “Tonight, though, we have to look at paint swatches.”

  Dafydd took a tentative step forward. “Do we?” He threw his arms out. “We’ve a night to ourselves. I bet there’s all kinds of things we could do instead.”

  He swallowed hard against his boldness. Matters between them hadn’t progressed very far, not much more than what they’d done in Maine. And while he liked the kissing and the cuddling and could feel how he and Ric were getting closer from it, it wasn’t going to be sufficient for much longer. Not only did he know for a certainty that the man wanted more, but he also felt a growing restlessness within himself. Seducing Ric was part of the grand plan for sure, but Dafydd was beginning to believe that his own happiness depended on a deeper, more physical relationship. If he didn’t move forward soon, he worried that he’d be forever stunted by his experience.

  The very thought of it made him want to weep.

  Without thinking, he plowed into Ric and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Please, won’t you fuck me?”

  There was a horrible second where Ric froze, not saying or doing anything. Then he brought his arms around Dafydd and kissed the top of his head. “Sweet Jesus, you surprise me—and scare the crap out of me, frankly.”

  Dafydd buried his face in the man’s chest. “I don’t know what that means. Is it a yes or a no?”

  “It’s a maybe.”

  Dafydd wanted to wail in frustration. He did thump his hand against Ric’s back. “Why?”

  “Come on. Let’s sit.” Ric steered them over to the bed and forced Dafydd onto it, because he gave him no help whatsoever.

  Once they were both down, however, Dafydd flopped backward, taking Ric with him until they lay sprawled across it. The weight of the man’s body caused an initial jolt of panic. He wrestled it back, as this was his idea. If he couldn’t stand this much, there was no hope for it.

  Taking Dafydd’s face in his hands, Ric got him to pull away so that they could look at each other. “Dafydd, please take it easy. If you want to do more than we have, there’s the whole night in front of us. There’s no need to rush anything. And if you don’t mind, I prefer to call anything we do ‘making love’. There’s nothing wrong in my book with using the word ‘fucking’, except that to me that’s a quick, purely physical a
ct. I want it to be more with us.”

  “All right, then. I want you to make love to me.” The words tumbled out of his mouth almost of their own volition. He ignored the frisson that racked him.

  Ric raised his eyebrows. “If you could see your own expression, baby, it’s not very encouraging. And you’re trembling.”

  “With anticipation.” The words were lame and entirely unconvincing, yet now that he’d considered it, he wasn’t willing to let go of the idea of giving himself fully to Ric.

  “Dafydd.” Ric’s tone was laced with the kind of patient tolerance that he might use with Idris. “That honesty thing is a two-way street. I want you to tell me how you really feel, not what you think I want to hear.”

  “I know.” Duly chastised in the nicest possible way, he dipped his head and plucked at his shirt. “It’s the truth that I want to fu—make love. I’m afraid that if I wait too long, I’ll never have the courage to do it.” He stared at Ric. “Can’t we please try, and if I get overwhelmed, we can always stop. Right?”

  “Of course. You have the right to withdraw your permission at any time.”

  They lay quietly for a few minutes, Ric staring at a spot on the ceiling, running his hand along Dafydd’s shoulder. He could all but see the man’s mind racing over what to do. Having made his wishes clear, Dafydd knew he was at Ric’s mercy. While it was nothing new, it was the first time that Dafydd hoped a man would put his own desires above noble intentions. He dared to try to move things in the right direction by reaching for Ric’s dick. It pressed against the zipper of his jeans, apparently not conflicted about what it hoped the night entailed. If Dafydd could urge it along…

  “Uh-uh.” Ric grabbed his hand before it made contact. “My cock doesn’t get a vote in this. It can’t be trusted to be enfranchised. But I think I have a good idea,” he added with a quick peck on Dafydd’s nose.

  Next thing, Ric was rolling off the bed and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. I want to get some stuff from my toiletry kit. You make yourself comfortable, baby. Sit up against the headboard and settle in for a show.” He winked as he disappeared around the doorway.

  For a few seconds, Dafydd merely stared after him, then did as he’d been told and propped himself up with the mound of pillows Lucien had given him. He crossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap, unsure of whether he should take off his clothes. Except no, if Ric had wanted him to, he would have said. The good thing about giving oneself over to another was that it cut down on the thinking. Maybe someday he’d want to be the boss of their relationship, but he doubted it. Dafydd hadn’t been raised to be anything other than servile, and in truth, he didn’t mind so long as his master was a good one.

  He didn’t have long to wait. Ric reappeared with something in his hand that he placed by the laptop. It looked like a small tube. The man had shucked off his trainers and socks, leaving his nice, bare feet on display. Dafydd leaned forward to get a better view, and Ric laughed.

  “Seriously, my feet?”

  Dafydd shrugged. “And why not, then? It’s a thing, isn’t it, for some people? A fetish, like? Back in my day, a man with such clean and pretty toes, no bunions or calluses, would have been a god in the eyes of most.”

  Ric cocked his hip. “Well, feel free to gaze upon them as much as you’d like. I hope the rest of me is as pleasing.”

  That got Dafydd’s attention. Pulling his knees up, he rested his arms on top of them. “Are you going to take off your clothes?” When Ric nodded, Dafydd reached for his own shirt hem. “Shall I join you?”

  Ric held out his hand. “Wait. Not yet, okay? I want this night to be all about you. To that end, I figured I’d make my stripping enjoyable.”

  Dafydd didn’t have time to pose a follow-up question. After pulling his phone out of his back pocket, Ric added it to the pile on the dresser and pushed a button. The room filled with the sounds of a familiar song.

  “Is this the one from the ship?”

  “Yup. It’s 5 Seconds of Summer’s Youngblood. Forget the lyrics and just watch, baby.”

  With that, Ric started to move his body in time to the music. His hips and, yes, those pretty feet, swayed and twisted in sensual ways. It was nothing elaborate, not like the complicated routines the boys practiced downstairs, yet it was sexy and entertaining. It lured in Dafydd’s avid attention with an irresistible invitation. As the beat picked up, Ric bucked his hips, a different kind of solicitation that Dafydd had no trouble understanding. Ric twirled around the room with the same grace and enviable ease as the go-go boys. The lack of polish was adorable. He had been right about Ric being qualified to work at the club.

  When Ric turned sideways and wiggled his way toward the bed, gnawing at his lower lip and eyeing Dafydd with an unspoken promise, Dafydd’s body flushed with a strange warmth. He fisted his hands on top of his knees and his breathing sped up. A tingling sensation infused his lower parts. His cock was swelling and straining. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he felt an urge to reach out and grab Ric as he twirled closer.

  The man dipped away just in time, putting himself out of reach, then tugged the hem of his shirt up his smooth, cocoa-colored chest and over his head. He whirled it around his head before tossing it aside. Dafydd giggled at the over-the-top display. His breath caught on a gasp, however, when Ric unsnapped his jeans. Dafydd hugged his knees to his chest in anticipation. But the song ended and Ric froze. Disappointed, Dafydd opened his mouth to urge his lover to keep going, music be damned.

  Another tune filled the room, something about counting stars. He knew this one, too, sort of. What mattered to him, though, was that this time, the lyrics seemed to mean something. He heard a promise in them and saw it in Ric’s expression. He danced around with his zipper part-way down, the swell of his ass tantalizingly visible, yet not nearly enough. Dafydd couldn’t keep his gaze off the man’s every move, waiting for more. He bounced and rocked along, feeling a part of the show—and not only as an observer. The appeal of the club to its members became clear to him.

  Finally, the pants and the underclothes, as well, came slithering down and off. Ric kept his eyes on Dafydd as he exposed his hard dick. With such intense concentration, it was obvious the man was looking for signs of distress, notwithstanding the sexy little smile he was shooting Dafydd’s way. It didn’t present a problem, however. Dafydd wasn’t disturbed in the least—or rather, it was a good kind of disquiet. The sight of how much Ric wanted him was enticing, not frightening.

  Dafydd licked his lips, unsure of how to convey his interest. Playing the coquette was beyond his experience. He for sure didn’t want Ric to think his obvious arousal put him off. Unfurling his fingers, he dared to raise his hand and beckon his lover. Ric’s eyes blazed for a few seconds before he went to shut off the music and sauntered over. Normally the sight of a hard man coming his way would have scared Dafydd or disgusted him. Not so now, although he did have to tamp down a bit of nerves. While he knew that Ric would be gentle with him, he also didn’t think he’d ever get used to being invaded by a man’s cock. Thank God, being human meant Ric wasn’t as large as the monster had been.

  Don’t think of him! You’ll lose your bottle and hurt Ric’s feelings.

  When Ric was only inches away from the edge of the bed, Dafydd’s heightened senses permitted him to smell the man’s arousal. His stomach clenched just for a moment before he forced it to relax again. He couldn’t be surprised that his body had these automatic responses. It was merely a matter of his intellect and desire overriding the visceral memories threatening to derail the night’s plans. It helped that Ric smelled delightfully of cologne, as usual.

  Ric palmed himself. “I don’t want you to be afraid of this…of me.”

  Dafydd lowered his legs so that his own erection was visible. “I’m not. Not really, like.” He swallowed his nerves back down. “It’s only my past trying to interfere with my present. I won’t let it.” He tugged at his shirt with a sudden fury, determined to get as nak
ed as Ric.

  “Wait. Let me do that. Please?” Ric didn’t give Dafydd any time to respond. Instead, he knelt on one knee at the edge of the bed. “I want tonight to be all about your pleasure. And peeling those clothes off you would make me very happy, if you don’t mind?”

  Dafydd shook his head and, letting go, lay back against the pillow. “All right, then. I don’t mind a bit of pampering.”

  Ric’s face lit up, as if he’d been given a wonderful treat. “Thanks, baby. I’m going to show you all of my best moves. I hope you like them.”

  “I will.” He grabbed Ric’s hand before he could do anything. “But promise me you’ll show me how to please you, too?”

  “Believe me, what I’m about to do makes me very happy.”

  There was no more talk, only touching, as Ric slowly pulled first Dafydd’s shirt then his trainers and socks off. Dafydd couldn’t help wondering what the man saw. Dafydd didn’t have nearly the physique that his lover had. Lying there bare-chested, he felt too thin and pasty. He put his hands across his chest and looked up at Ric from under his lashes.

  “Don’t be shy, baby. You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m skinny, like, and pale as milk.”

  “Oh, Dafydd, have you no idea how utterly perfect you are?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft, mun. I’m a dirty village boy for all that I’ve been through.” It was the way he saw himself—a serf grubbing around in the muddy fields and dusty roads at a time when bathing once a week was considered high living. When he looked in the mirror, that was mostly what he saw. He was almost frozen in time since he’d been abducted, both growing into someone different and not.

  Ric cupped his face and placed a short, sweet kiss on his lips. “You’re more than that. I’m going to show you how much.”

  Slowly, Ric reached for the snap on Dafydd’s jeans. The sound of the parts uncoupling was loud to Dafydd’s ears, as was the rasp of the zipper going down, down. His unimpressive dick happily peeked out from its confines before standing fully erect when the cloth was pulled away. Next to Ric’s, it looked puny, but there was no denying that it was hard, with a tiny pearl of milky white clinging to the slit. He stuttered out a breath at its sight.