Branded

by Clare London

  “It won’t be long,” I murmured into his ear. “I won’t be long in coming.” The saliva gathered in my mouth, the ache of climax starting deep in the pit of my groin. “Dax, wait a moment, this isn’t the way I wanted you—”

  “Liar!” But he was smiling and his eyes were bright with excitement. “Any way is good, that’s what you’re really thinking, that’s how I want you! Take hold of me. Do what you want with me!”

  I laughed at his eagerness, grasped the loose waist of his trousers, and pushed them down to his thighs. I then ran my hand over his hip and down between his legs, catching hold of his turgid cock, warm and damp against my skin. The hairs at his groin tangled between my fingers, and his heavy balls shifted against my wrist. He groaned aloud, gripping at my shoulders to anchor himself, thrusting his hips against me. “Yes.”

  I pushed my other hand roughly into my own trousers, grasping my own arousal, trying to hold back the excitement at the same time as the briefest touch stimulated it, biting my lip against an impossible task. I was panting loudly, and so was he. I pumped him steadily, the leaking seed from the tip making my fingers slick, the thrill of his hard flesh against my palm making my heart race. He groaned into my neck, his lips tracing words against my skin. “At last,” he seemed to say. His cock throbbed in rhythm with my own frenzied pulse. Then his head went back and he arched his back sharply. “Harder!” he urged, and as I gripped him more fiercely, he thrust heavily against me, limbs shaking with his climax, his seed bursting hot and sticky over my fingers.

  I came moments after him, excited beyond belief by the mere sound of his voice, harsh and deep with need. I couldn’t stop my cock from jumping in my fist, nor did I try to. It swelled inside my fingers, the seed spitting from the head, my muscles aching with the tension of holding myself upright against his sagging body. My own cry of satisfaction was guttural and fierce, and my legs started to buckle beneath our weight.

  We dropped awkwardly to our knees on the ground at the foot of the tree, fallen leaves crackling beneath us, our cries fading as dull echoes among the dense branches. I ignored any pain in my knee: it wasn’t important now. His tunic fell back down over his belly and my arm, the fabric feeling rough on my skin after the hot, smooth texture of his flesh. I gazed into his eyes, wide and bright, the pupils dilated. His face was deeply flushed. And then he grinned at me, the pleasure open and genuine and without any of the misery and tension I’d seen on his face ever since I found him again.

  “I won’t be apart from you anymore,” I blurted out. “I can’t live with it.”

  He reached a shaking hand to my face, cupping my cheek. “I know. I understand. I won’t have it that way.”

  I smiled back. “That sounds like the Exile leader speaking to his soldier.”

  He shook his head; his gaze never wavered. “It’s merely the Bronzeman speaking to his Gold Warrior. I’m yours. I always have been.”

  I touched his face in return, my thumb lightly brushing the pattern of old scars on his cheek. Instinctively he drew back but then relaxed under my touch. When I kissed him again, our mouths were far more gentle, far more tender.

  This was loving.

  WE DRESSED again, and Dax took me to the west edge of the copse, where it merged into the foot of the mountains. There were several openings pitted across the rock face, revealing shallow caves that his group hadn’t found suitable for settlement, but they were large enough to shelter a couple of men. It was dark inside the first one he led me to, but he rummaged at the base of the back wall and uncovered a candle lamp. When he lit the tinder, it illuminated the area with dark elongated shadows. He turned back to me, his hands full with blankets, a stoppered flask of ale, and a selection of dry biscuits, fruits, and oils.

  “You stay up here too?”

  He smiled, his face a balance of light and dark against the candle flame. “It’s necessary sometimes. And it’s always useful to have a network of places for our scouts. We may not be able to match the city forces with our weapons, but they can’t compete with our knowledge of the geography of the mountains and our survival skills.”

  I took some of the ale gratefully, but I wasn’t hungry. Neither was he. We sat together on a blanket, letting our bodies warm up in the enclosed space, watching the reflection of the lamp flickering in each other’s eyes.

  “What will you do now, Maen?”

  I frowned, for I thought I’d made it clear how I felt. “I’ll be with you, go with you, wherever you want.” There was very little space in the small cave, but I could hear the vehemence of my voice echo against the stone walls. “It’s for you to say.”

  “What would you have me say?”

  I laughed, rather bitterly. “I know it’s a risk you may not wish to take on behalf of the camp. Maybe the Queen’s relinquished me personally, but a deserting soldier of any rank is an insult to her reputation. She’ll seek to capture me and execute me.” I reached for him, pressing my hands to his shoulders, then running them down his arms, savoring the tension in his tightening muscles. “If I stay here, any reprisal by her impacts on you and your community.”

  He shivered beneath my touch, his gaze remaining steady. “You really think she’s relinquished you?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe there’s no order out for me yet. Maybe there never will be. I left the city easily enough, without detection.” I couldn’t read the strange, tight expression on his face. “I’m not so arrogant to believe myself important to her now she’s Queen, and I know she has no care for her other men beyond the role of servant. She’s busy with plans for the Convocation and her new duties, and she has many younger, more attractive soldiers to entertain her in her leisure time.” I drew a deep breath. The need to hold him close again was strong and fierce inside me. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “It’s no risk at all,” Dax snapped, startling me. “It’s a certainty! You have no idea how deeply she regards you.”

  I frowned, not understanding his words.

  “Do you think I didn’t see how she was around you? Didn’t see the hunger in her eyes? I knew enough of her while I was in the Household of the Exchequer. We were all fascinated by the Queen-Elect, keen to see someone from the Royal Household. And when I was brought before her, tortured under her own orders, in front of her own eyes….” He stopped, stumbling over his words, then continued more carefully. “She’s wanted you since she first saw you, or so I was told by many of the older Silvers.”

  “She’s had enough of me,” I said slowly. “I’ve been in her Household this last year.”

  He grunted fiercely. “That’s not what she wants—not another soldier, not another slave. Why can’t you see it? She wants you, the man, and it’s because of what you are—who you are.”

  “What I am is here with you. Only for you.” The idea of Seleste showing weakness toward me was an uncomfortable thought and a connection to my life in the city I no longer wanted. I didn’t want to think of Seleste at all. I pulled Dax toward me, shifting on my knees so I could get closer. When we kissed this time, it was deeper and richer. His mouth was warm and had already tasted me several times; his lips parted more readily, our tongues slipped together more easily. Then he sighed and lay back down on the blanket, pulling me with him. My mouth claimed his, the movements fierce and sweet, and my hands ran over his body, sliding up under his tunic again.

  “I want you too,” he whispered. “Maen, the man.”

  I braced myself above him, smiling down at his face flushed with desire. I never thought I’d have this chance again—never thought I’d see or touch him again like this. “And you have me. What time do we have?”

  “Until dawn. I’m gathering the group together tomorrow morning, to discuss the next attack on the city.”

  I tensed up. “Another attack? Another madness.”

  He growled, the sound deep in the back of his throat. “I’m not your soldier anymore, Maen. Don’t question my decisions for the camp. We have our own objectives.”


  “And what are they?” I rolled to the side, no longer leaning over him, no longer touching him as tenderly as before. “I’ve seen your men, and they’re no match for the Guard. You can’t tell me you haven’t suffered terrible losses from your raids, because I’ve seen the injured men in the camp.” I’d also heard the reports from the Gold Warriors of the Royal Household during the course of this last year, their victorious celebrations and their contempt for the ill equipped and badly organized Exile army bands. The Exiles had been a thorn in the city’s side for longer than many of us could remember, but they’d never been considered a serious military threat. Admittedly, Dax’s leadership may have been changing things for the better, but I’d seen enough in my previous visit to know the Exile army still consisted of men and women who had little training and who, despite their commitment to their cause, had never worked together as a fighting unit. Some of them had never even borne arms before now. That couldn’t be addressed in the space of a few months, not even by the most charismatic and experienced leadership.

  Dax’s eyes met mine with an expression of both pride and despair. I realized in that moment that he was not a leader of his men in the same way a Gold Warrior was. Much as I might now abhor the blind loyalty and obedience of a city soldier, I appreciated its contribution to the creation of a strong, cohesive army. It would be many more years before the Exiles could compete with that. It made it all the more brave—and foolhardy—that they sought to attack the city so often.

  “I said it before,” I said more gently. “I don’t want your men to be killed.” This time, I leaned across and touched my lips to his neck, adding, “I don’t want you to be killed.”

  Dax frowned. “Life is dangerous here, and I can’t avoid it. Why should I want to? We have to be aggressive, else we’ll falter and die as pathetic victims.” I turned my head and kissed him. His hand slid to my belly, stroking down my tunic, tugging at my belt to loosen it. Yet he still argued with me. “There are things we need from the city. We’re lost without medical supplies. Many of our tools are old and in need of replacement, yet we don’t have the metal. If we have a short hunting season, we have no preservatives to cure meats for winter. All of these things you take for granted in the city, but we have to steal them for ourselves.”

  “You’re committed to these people.” It wasn’t a question, but he answered it as such.

  “Yes. I have no loyalty left to the city. Can you doubt that?”

  “No.” I shrugged off my belt and peeled my tunic off over my shoulders. The air was cool on my bare torso but not uncomfortably so; the muscles in my belly contracted only slightly at the change in temperature. The cave was small enough to retain our heat, and the wind blew past the open mouth rather than in around us. Whatever the reason, I didn’t feel the cold tonight.

  Dax’s eyes glowed sharply in the dim shadows. “You said you’d be with me, go with me wherever I wanted. You have to know what that means. You’ll be an Exile too, Maen. You’ll lose everything you have in the city, and she’ll pursue you to your death unless we stop her somehow.”

  “I don’t have anything in the city to lose.” I knelt at his side and unlaced the ties of his trousers. He pushed off his boots, and I tugged the legs of the garment down over his hips. “The only thing I treasured, I’d already lost. I won’t let go of you again.”

  I rolled his tunic back up and over his head, and he sucked in another sharp breath. Then he relaxed back onto the blanket, kicking his trousers off at his feet. He lay there naked, unashamed, smiling up at me. There were new scars on his legs and hip, obviously from campaigns against the city, though nothing too deep. But the wound that had been the cause of his reported death was a long jagged scar down the left side of his torso, an angry slash of fresh, shining pink flesh. He saw me looking at it.

  “It only gives me trouble in the cold and damp.” He shrugged. “The bandage is only on occasionally for support, for it needs exposure to the air now. I lost plenty of blood, but Veli sews a wound well and packed it with the right kind of herbs to speed up the healing process. The sword cut mainly through flesh, and I’ll be able to fight again as soon as the muscles tighten up.”

  I still stared.

  “Maen?”

  The pain inside me was too much. I wished I’d taken the blow for him; I wanted to suffer any pain and threat of death instead of him. I’d continue to want that, for all my remaining life span. I wanted a lot of things to be different—to have been different—for him. For us. The sound that came out of my mouth was like a sob.

  “Don’t.” His voice was soft. He reached for me and stroked gently down my back, pulling me down against him. “Don’t regret anything. You took so much injury for me, both from the Exiles and your own people. Yet you never spoke against me, you never gave them evidence against me. I shouldn’t have blamed you for letting me go, because you were saving me as best you knew how. You didn’t abandon me—you saved my life. Forgive me for what I’ve brought you to.”

  “No!” It was never like that. I’d never regretted anything to do with him. I lay down against him, kissing his neck gently, then his shoulder, running my tongue across his skin. My caresses grew more forceful as I grazed my teeth against his flesh, as I felt his nipples tighten up under my lips. He gasped at it all with pleasure. I licked across his chest and down his ribcage, then farther on down, savoring the taste of his navel, his belly clenching at my touch. His cock swelled, bobbing heavily at his groin, nudging its warm tip against my chin. I smiled and lapped at the bead of moisture that leaked out. He groaned aloud.

  “I… there’s been no other man….”

  I sighed. Did he think I wouldn’t be gentle with him? My desire was fierce, but it wasn’t cruel. I ran my hand along the inside of his thighs, pushing them apart, stroking gently down underneath his balls. He arched his back and moaned with pleasure. My head dipped over his groin; his cock slipped wetly across my lips and I opened my mouth to take it in.

  He gave a sudden sharp cry, a word I didn’t recognize, and pulled himself up onto his elbows, looking down at me as I started to suck him. He laughed, sounding shocked. Then his head fell back and his eyes closed and his whole body started to move in rhythm with me. He slid in and out of my mouth, the flared head catching on my tongue, the taste of his flesh slightly salty on my lips. After a while, the sliding became more like thrusting, and he began to pant heavily. I slid my mouth down farther over him until my nose nudged at the dark blond hairs of his groin, and I gently squeezed his balls. I wanted this to last forever—but I also wanted to bring him swift, delicious ecstasy. I wanted it all. He cried out again and groped blindly for my head, gripping my hair. He thrust his hips up, burying himself deeper in my mouth, and at last he came, the seed bursting onto my tongue. He bent his legs up, trying to capture my shoulders between his knees, but his limbs were shaking too much for him to hold the position, and he fell back down flat.

  I let his spent cock slide from between my lips, and I sat back up beside him. He was gasping, and his skin still shivered from his satisfaction. I ran my fingers along his side, watching small bumps of sensitivity rise up along their path.

  “Take me now.” He was almost breathless. Groping to where he’d pushed the fruit and bottles to one side of the blanket, he grasped a bottle of oil. “This will be enough.”

  I raised my eyebrows, my fingers still trailing on his flesh. “You said there’s been no other. It’s a very long time since we coupled.” I shook my head slowly. “It’s late, and this is a primitive place to enjoy each other. There’ll be other times.”

  He frowned. “And they’ll be even better. Are you scared?”

  My eyes widened. “Scared? Of course not.”

  He pulled himself to sitting, the sweat at the top of his thighs glinting in the sparse light. “I’m not scared of anything you can do to me. I welcome it!” He shifted, unstoppering the bottle awkwardly with one hand and tipping oil out onto his cupped hand. As it warmed, he massaged it into
the skin of his palms, letting it trickle between his fingers, covering the digits. Then he reached down between his legs, stretching them out even farther, letting his knees fall wider apart. The muscles at the top of his legs tensed, exposing the beginning of the dark crease between his buttocks where it ran back behind his balls. With one hand, he prized his cheeks apart, catching up the heavy drop of his cock and balls against his thigh so they didn’t obscure my view. Then I watched, fascinated, as his other hand reached back farther and he slid his middle finger inside his ass. He pumped it gently, slowly, as the muscles puckered up around his knuckle. When he slid another finger in beside the first, I glanced quickly back at his face. He didn’t look in any discomfort; he didn’t look nervous. In fact, he grinned at me.

  “I don’t need you to feel scared for me either,” he said. “I’m not made of clay. No one’s broken me yet. No one’s broken us!” There was mischief in his eyes as he watched my expressions. “Are you just a spectator, soldier? That’s good for me, but you haven’t been satisfied yet, I think.”

  I couldn’t reply; my throat was too tight. Dax laughed at the look on my face. The front of my trousers was wet with leaking seed from my arousal. I pushed them down in a ridiculously impatient rush, wriggling awkwardly to get the clothing off my body, to release my legs.

  Dax lay back, sighing, his hand still busy in his ass, his hips thrusting up shallowly. His bare feet gripped the blanket beneath us. I knelt carefully between his outstretched legs to allow my knee to adjust to the weight on it, and I put my hands on his thighs. He didn’t stop pleasuring himself, but he slowed down. When I gazed at his face, he was still smiling at me, but there was something very bright and fierce in his eyes. I slid my hands around under his buttocks, and then I tilted his hips up to meet my own. My cock was fiercely erect, bloodred with its need. As I pulled him to me, it brushed against his and he hissed aloud.