Where the Devil Says Goodnight

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Where the Devil Says Goodnight Page 23

by K. A. Merikan


  “The whip worked best, because it really hurts, and you just stop being in the mood, but then I found those porn mags by accident, and I took them, and I couldn’t help myself. They made me so aroused, as if I had to make up for all the time I refused to think about sex. I’ve been found out, and they sent me here. The archbishop thought a remote village would keep me focused on my goals as a priest. You know how that worked out,” Adam said, listening to the dullness of his voice while the rain tapped above his head.

  Emil hugged Adam more tightly and kissed his neck. “Do you regret it? Meeting me?”

  A voice at the back of Adam’s mind said that he should. Without Emil, he’d have surely kept to his path, but there was no regret in his heart whatsoever. Only fear and uncertainty. “It’s one of the most important things that has ever happened to me. And I wouldn’t take it back even if I could,” he said, squeezing his arms harder around Emil.

  Emil nuzzled his collarbone through the T-shirt. “I know you lost the whip, but you don’t hurt yourself anymore, do you?”

  Adam swallowed hard. For many years, the whip had offered him a sense of safety, but he hadn’t missed it. “You know I don’t. You see me naked all the time.”

  Emil chuckled. “And let’s keep it that way.”

  It wasn’t clear if he meant no whipping, or seeing Adam naked often. Most likely both.

  Adam closed his eyes and tied some of Emil’s long locks around his hand before bringing them to his face. They smelled of the earlier sunshine, and of smoke, and he longed to have that scent, the safest, sweetest aroma in the world, always clinging to him. “Let’s keep it that way,” he repeated in a soft voice, capturing Emil’s gaze.

  The rain tapped the roof of the car in a calming rhythm that enhanced the beauty of the thunder growling in the distance. Something scratched on the metal, and the cawing that followed meant several birds sat on the car, standing guard.

  Enclosed in the warmth of Emil’s arms, Adam felt heard. Unlike the priests who listened to his confessions, Emil offered him understanding. Support instead of prayer and penance. He never thought a day would come when he’d tell anyone his secrets in such detail, but he’d trust Emil with his life. They licked each other’s wounds and curled up in the safety of their den.

  “I never had anyone I could talk to like this,” he whispered and touched Emil’s face, gently pulling him back. His shoulder blade slid off the backrest, and they shifted together until Emil settled on top of him, chests aligned so tightly it stole Adam’s breath away.

  “You wanna wait out the storm in here?” Emil whispered, but it was a silly question, because Adam could’ve stayed there forever and never get bored.

  He leaned in and rubbed his nose against Emil’s before pressing their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss that pinned him to the seat, as if he was an insect immobilized with a pin for Emil’s pleasure. “As long as you’re here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Emil said between one kiss and another, sliding his hands down the sides of Adam’s body. They hadn’t done much sexually and had kept to touching, kissing, and watching each other jerk off as the ultimate pleasure, because that was the restriction Adam had put on their relationship. But he hadn’t expected that this shift in focus would mean he’d get to know every inch of Emil’s body, and that he’d be touched in unexpected places like in the armpits, or on his feet.

  And he loved it. He wanted Emil to leave his scent everywhere, he wanted to mark him in return, until there was only one them. And he was desperate for it. “Take it off,” he asked, pushing at Emil’s open jacket. As soon as Emil rose off him, Adam yanked at his own top, briefly getting it stuck on his face.

  Emil was just as eager to pull off his clothes and his chest was a marvel once uncovered. His pecs, his biceps and wide shoulders were stunning, but the overwhelming emotion in Adam’s heart was about how close he felt to this man, and how much he’d do to make him happy.

  Emil chuckled. “Not afraid someone will drive into the woods in the middle of a storm just to find us?”

  Adam shook his head. “Fuck them. Besides, nobody’s coming. It’s you, and me, and the crows,” he said when something scratched at the roof above. “You and me,” he repeated, his gaze trailing the tempting line of Emil’s throat. Dark hair cascaded down the shoulders, leaving Emil’s neck exposed, and Adam let temptation take hold as he leaned in, rubbing his face over the warm skin.

  Emil didn’t answer, instead letting his hands talk for him. They traversed the dips and peaks of Adam’s flesh, counted every rib with soft fingertips, making Adam shiver and curl his toes from the tenderness of that touch. Not that tenderness would be all that was on offer, because Emil’s erection was already pressing against his own, both still trapped in jeans.

  This was the moment when Adam would pull away, so each of them could take care of their own business, but this time he slid his hand down Emil’s chest with a sense of purpose. The nipple ring was warm against his palm, and he rolled it along with Emil’s flesh, acutely aware of the way Emil’s breath trembled in response. His eyes locked with Emil’s when he cupped him through denim, and though unease scratched at the back of his head, he knew his touch, however unskilled, would be appreciated.

  Emil purred against Adam’s cheek like a wild beast. Adam’s, even if not tamed. “This feels so good,” he whispered and kissed along Adam’s jaw, all the way to his ear, until Adam arched his back off the seat, catching air in desperation.

  He slid his free hand to Emil’s back, squeezing his flesh as he pulled on his belt, trying to open it in a hurry. “Yes. It does,” he said, shivering with the excitement of that hard length rubbing against his wrist.

  He’d made his choice and had no doubt Emil would gladly follow. After all, if they’d agreed that touching each other was okay, what difference did it make if he touched Emil’s thigh, or his cock? It shouldn’t matter. All of Emil’s flesh was equally addictive.

  The boldness of Adam’s touch was Emil’s cue. He pulled on Adam’s ear with his teeth as he opened his zipper. Just the sound of it was enough to set Adam’s body on fire, a beautiful metallic buzz he could physically feel gliding down his back.

  “I want to make you feel good,” he said, kissing Emil’s neck, and as soon as the pants were open, he pushed his hand in, trembling at the impossible heat trapped there.

  Emil groaned and mirrored Adam’s gesture, sliding his long fingers into the heat of Adam’s jeans. “You always do.”

  Adam didn’t know what to focus on anymore, overwhelmed by sensations of touching and being touched. He captured Emil’s gaze, breathless as he rubbed his thumb against the smooth head before slowly pumping the cock, and the way the handsome features above twitched was worth more than all the other pleasures in the world combined. He was enchanted, and completely dedicated to his lover’s pleasure.

  This felt different to the many times they had jerked themselves off while watching one another, and there would be no turning back from it. He craved to be the one who brought Emil to the edge of orgasm, the cause of Emil’s lust, and the only person who mattered to him.

  Emil surprised him when he moved his hips, dragging his cock back and forth through Adam’s fist in a motion reminiscent of that one time when Emil fucked him. There was no reason or logic to Adam’s need, but he wanted to fuck Emil too. He bucked his hips, staring into the endless depths of Emil’s eyes as they moved together, filling the car with their soft grunts.

  His body was heating up embarrassingly fast, but what Emil made him feel was too perfect to let it stop him as he rolled his body, desperate to keep this man’s attention forever.

  Emil gasped in surprise, but grinned right after. “Do it again,” he whispered, fucking Adam’s hand faster, and squeezing his cock at the same time. “I want to feel your cum dripping down my fingers.”

  It was as if Emil had somehow reached inside Adam and caressed the pleasure centers in his brain. Desire washed through Adam’s body like
a warm explosion, and released between Emil’s fingers, just like he’d been asked. He uttered a loud moan, soon stifled by Emil’s mouth, and as Emil moved faster, rocking his hips against Adam’s hand, it only felt natural for Adam to wrap his legs around them.

  “On me. Please,” he begged, squeezing his fingers around the throbbing cock.

  He didn’t have to ask twice. His words worked like a charm, and Emil drowned him in a kiss as the heat of his spunk shot over Adam’s belly, and all the way to his chest. And he’d been the one to do it, the one to make Emil come so fast and hard. In that moment it felt as if he was orgasming all over again, deep in his head, but it was no less real than the first time. Without thinking, he grabbed Emil’s hand and pulled it up his stomach, through their sperm, and arched off the seat for another kiss, this one deep, thorough, and led by him.

  They became one with the tapping rain as they took their time making out like two teenagers, hungry for each other even after satisfying their lust.

  Eventually, they settled into petting each other lazily, and Emil rested his weight on Adam as he relaxed.

  “I loved that,” he whispered with his head on Adam’s shoulder, eyes closed, as if his mind still lingered on their moment of passion.

  Adam had no idea how one man could be this stunning. But he loved what they’d just done too. And somewhere deep, beyond all the barriers that kept his mind safe but which felt so translucent now, he knew he also loved Emil. That he’d do anything for him.

  “Our own Titanic moment,” Adam said and reached up, tracing his fingers over the steamed-up glass above.

  Emil chuckled. “Only question is which one of us gets to survive?”

  Adam snorted, feeling perfectly content with the sticky mess on his stomach as long as Emil kept holding him with arms that felt safer those of the Church. Safer than anything that was holy. “There was obviously space for two on that door.”

  “But if push came to shove, I’d drown for you,” Emil said, eyes still closed, and a blissful expression stuck to his face.

  He might have as well cut out Adam’s heart and put it on his mantelpiece. “I want to help you too. Will you… reconsider what we talked about earlier?”

  Emil groaned. “I can make my own vodka. It’s okay.”

  “But you still need to pay for the bottles, and other ingredients.”

  Emil stayed silent for a while. “Thank you. For wanting to make it happen so much. But you have to let me pay back every grosz once we’re settled in Warsaw.”

  Adam couldn’t stop the wide smile tugging at his lips and kissed him hard, shifting until he managed to crawl on top of Emil and trap his head between his elbows. He’d never thought he could be this happy to lose the money he’d been saving for such a long time, but at least now the cash had a purpose other than sitting in his bank account and working up a tiny percentage. “Fine. I can let you do that, but until then, your soul is mine.”

  Emil grinned back and slapped his ass. “Greedy monster.”

  Chapter 17 - Emil

  Bottles filled Emil’s house from top to bottom. He and Adam had discussed this extensively and the consensus was to either go big or bust, so Emil needed to have a lot of the alcohol on hand. They’d started producing the alcohol infusions back in August, and since Adam had helped with every part of the process, the work didn’t eat into their time together that much. Though it meant less horse rides or peaceful walks in the forest.

  In late October, the urge to go outside wasn’t an imperative anyway, especially that the last few days have been abysmal—filled with storms, endless rain, and a dropping temperature that spoke of upcoming November. Adam’s superiors had already informed him of his next placement. Only seventeen days were left of his stay in Dybukowo. Seventeen days until Emil would have to walk him to the bus stop and wave goodbye.

  If everything went according to plan, he would soon follow Adam, even though the prospect of uprooting himself—and Jinx—made unease sprout in his head like mold. For the first time in his life, there was an external purpose to guide him away from the life he knew, and while he worried adjusting to life in a city might prove difficult, he also wouldn’t give up on the chance at happiness that had unexpectedly dropped into his lap.

  He didn’t want to let Adam go, and the longer they were together, the more he saw how compatible they were. Mrs. Luty and Father Marek would have noticed if Adam had started spending nights at Emil’s, but he often left the parsonage first thing in the morning and crawled into Emil’s bed as if just lying next to him brought him peace.

  They watched movies together, read books while cuddled up in the sheets, and Adam wasn’t averse to physical labor either, eager to help out with the alcoholic infusions as well as with the mundane work around the homestead. Whatever they did, topics for conversation never ran out. After years of loneliness, Emil had finally found someone whose heart was in perfect harmony with his own.

  Determined to leave with him, Emil swallowed his pride and accepted a loan of Adam’s money to pay for the ingredients needed, but while he was also the main force in terms of preparation, Adam made calls on Emil’s behalf in an attempt to turn the alcohol infusions into cash. And while Emil knew how crazy it was that he chose to uproot his life to become the secret lover of a Catholic priest, a man who would never openly acknowledge their relationship, Adam’s dedication to their cause confirmed that it was the right decision.

  He hadn’t told Adam yet, but he’d decided to sell the house to have the financial cushion for a good start in the big city. The thought of permanently parting from the mountains awoke a deep longing inside of him, but none of that mattered in the face of what could be.

  He was thirty. It was about time for him to do something radical. To change his life. To stop hoping for miracles, and take destiny into his own hands.

  Maybe once Adam served his penance in Dybukowo, once he put the fear of demons behind him, he would be able to open up sexually as well. Because there wasn’t a day when Emil didn’t dream of pinning Adam’s gorgeous ass to the mattress. Or being the one to take cock, for that matter. Either way worked for him as long as Adam was in his arms, panting, and whispering love confessions.

  In terms of intimacy, they were still in that innocent teenage stage, but he assumed that might change. Losing control over one’s body would have been a traumatic experience for anyone, so Emil decided he’d be patient.

  Neither had declared their feelings out loud, but Adam surely understood the depth of Emil’s emotions, because why else would he have come up with the idea of them both moving together?

  Emil stirred the fresh elderflower infusion one last time and started pouring it into bottles when Adam emerged from Grandfather’s old bedroom all pale and moving stiffly, as if he’d been left in the cold for too long. “I found something weird.”

  “What is it?” Emil cocked his head and put down the precious bottle. He hadn’t changed anything in that room since it had been vacated, but, like Grandma’s chest upstairs, it contained items that might seem strange to someone unfamiliar with local folklore.

  Adam licked his lips and joined Emil by the kitchen table, but when he opened his hand, Emil’s face fell, because he had no explanation for the item in Adam’s palm. In his palm lay a small figurine with a lock of black hair woven through a hole in the torso. The wood it was made of had gone dark from age, but the horns on its head, and the simplified lines that made up the face were clear as day.

  It was a devil, or one of the many folklore creatures associated with him.

  Emil’s face flushed with heat as he silently scolded himself for leaving the damn figurine where he’d found it in Grandpa’s things a few weeks back, when he’d finally chosen to look through the old man’s things in preparation for the upcoming move. Adam felt at home in his house, so of course he’d act like it too and open drawers when searching for something.

  “There were some notes too,” Adam said, and when his hand shook, he made a point
of putting the figurine on the table and stepping back. A couple seconds later, he walked up to the sink and washed his hands, as if he were afraid the thing carried a disease.

  Emil groaned. Yes. Notes. His grandmother’s notes on the best ways for attracting Chort, which ranged from placing bowls of food in four corners of the house to human sacrifice, but the latter was such a freaky thing to be written down by his lovely grandma that he chose not to mention it to anyone ever. He could only hope Adam hadn’t read any of it yet.

  “I didn’t want you to be scared. It must have been my grandma’s.” Emil took the little sculpture into his hand and stared into the red smudges it had for eyes.

  Adam exhaled and placed his hands on the table top, for a moment so still it seemed like he wasn’t all there. “I just… it’s such a weird thing to have in the house. And that hair— It’s like yours,” he added in a lower voice.

  Emil pulled on one of his waves and compared it to the lock attached to the figurine. “Maybe. But my grandma’s hair was like this too. She’d worn it long all her life, and it never turned gray.”

  Adam took a deep breath. “You can tell me if it is yours.”

  “What? Why would it be mine?” Emil stared back at him, strangely cold in the cozy space heated by the big tiled stove.

  “I don’t know… tradition? Like those offerings?” Adam asked but was already grabbing Emil’s hand.

  “I’m telling you it’s not mine. But I think it’s used to attract Chort.”

  Adam’s eyes went wide. “And you keep it in the house?!”

 

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