by J. C. Owens
Torin had thought him strong before, but he did not comment. Whatever helped the young man, whatever thoughts and actions gave him comfort, Torin had no right to say otherwise. He would try as he could to protect him, but it seemed unlikely that they would always be together. From what Aidan had told him at Torin’s fortress, Nairat seemed to have plans for the boy, plans that conflicted with him remaining in Torin’s presence.
Or perhaps they would bring them together for public display. After all, they had to convince the populace that there was nothing to fight against, that their own leaders had been put back in place.
He watched Aidan delicately eat the apple, a frown settling on his brow. The thought of Nairat touching that pale skin, of tainting the boy with his evil, made him growl softly, the fingers of his right hand, his sword hand, clench with frustrated fury.
Aiden looked up, questioning.
Torin could only shake his head, unable to voice his concerns.
The door swung open, startling both of them into silence, tension sliding into the room as Nairat and Heratis entered, their eyes flicking between Aidan and Torin with lecherous interest.
Torin could not help himself; he growled, deep in his chest, body tensing as though to spring, rage rising like a wave in his mind. In some part of him, he knew this extreme reaction was still being fuelled by the remnants of the randice, though the original rage was his own. He would never react so primally in normal circumstances. He always prided himself on iron control, and some part of him shuddered in disgust at this display. He rose to his feet, the growl gaining force, and without thinking, instinct caused him to grasp Aidan, tow him to his feet and drag him behind him.
Aidan did not resist. Indeed, he pressed close against Torin’s back, fingers clenching in the concealing sheet.
Heratis sneered. “So sweet. The beast considers the boy his, after only a night. How the mighty Torin has fallen, his morals only dust and memory. Sweet memory that could drive a man mad with guilt and shame.” He glanced at Nairat, reaching out and catching at the other general’s arm as he made to move forward, eyes fixed upon the small part of Aidan he could see. “No, my friend. Not today. Let this act play out for another day or so, until the boy is utterly terrified of him, until he bleeds.” His small pig eyes swung back to Torin. “Until our dear Torin realizes what lies within him. A beast, nothing royal at all. Once the randice takes hold completely, you will be ours—General. Willing to do anything to get the next dose. Every piece of your honor will come undone, all your great strength of mind will be as nothing. A mere drug will overcome all you are, and you will become our thing, our puppet. Your beloved people will bow to us at last—because of you.” His demeanor radiated satisfaction. “I cannot wait to see you crawl.”
Torin drew his lip back from bared teeth, wanting to attack, to destroy, to…
A hand tugged on the sheet at his back, reminding, warning.
He watched the two enemies retreat, mocking laughter trailing in their wake, the thick door shutting behind them, the bolts sliding home.
He slumped then, despair overcoming his irrational thoughts. No matter how he fought, they were right, he could not conquer randice. They might not realize he had not drunk the wine this morning, but sooner or later they would. Then there would be no drink but that which held randice, no food that did not contain the drug. And Aidan… If they stayed together, the boy would be forced to consume the drug also, out of desperate thirst, out of hunger. Was this to be their future? Becoming nothing but rutting animals, completely in the control of their keepers?
Long fingers curled around his, turning him to face determined green eyes.
“They will check tonight, I know it. Check to see if you have taken me. If they think you exhausted, unconscious from the after effects of randice, they will be confident enough to chance it. If we let them, they might continue to doctor only the wine and not the rest. It might give us more time.”
Torin raised an eyebrow, impressed. The boy was thinking, not just reacting, to what was happening. He should have known such a thing, after all it was Aidan who had come up with the original plan on his own, but still, it was odd to see so much cool composure in so young a body. Certainly the young man seemed to be handling this better than Torin himself.
He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He must not fall into their trap of believing himself beyond hope, of believing that he was utterly compromised. The randice lingered yet, making his thoughts scramble, his usual steely control waver. That was all.
“We will be all right. We will find a way to get you out.” The sheer determination in those words made Torin open his eyes to look at the boy’s face, the young features suddenly hardened into something very adult, very old.
“We can defeat them. We just have to find their weakness and play it.” Aidan’s lips twisted into something bitter. “They taught me well. Now, perhaps, that will work against them in some fashion, if I can make it so.”
Torin found himself tugging the younger man close, closing his arms around the frail shoulders. “If anyone can make this happen, make this turn out well, I think it just might be you.”
Chapter Four
The day dragged interminably. They talked sporadically, both unsure of each other, and tentative with this new alliance. They found common ground in their love of horses, though much of Aidan’s knowledge was book born as he had been allowed only supervised interaction with the animals during riding lessons. They got into somewhat heated discussions about tactics and past battles, once again Torin with practical experience, and Aidan with analytical knowledge of the past. The general was impressed with the young man’s almost perfect recall of anything he had read, as though he could see it in front of him. Such a talent was rare, and would be greatly useful to Torin. To not have to wait for a historian to bring him information that could help the present, would be a great gift.
Aidan was full of surprises, and the rebel general found himself liking the boy more and more as the day wore on. He kept thinking he would uncover some huge flaw, some part of the imposter that would wear on him, as people so often did. Torin had never been a man to truly enjoy the company of others. There were a select few that he held close, such as Paulsten, but for the most part, he was aloof, guarded in manner and action. He had lost too much, found that people were never what they first seemed, and yet…this boy called to him, found a niche within a weary, jaded heart.
He firmed his will, guarded his emotions. This could not possibly end well. He had learned that lesson all too thoroughly.
* * *
As the light faded in the two narrow slit windows, they lit two candles and prepared for bed.
Aidan felt insecurity wash over him, his determination of the night before nowhere in evidence as he watched Torin wash himself in the small basin full of cold water. The light from the candles played over the general’s muscles as he dropped the sheet. He seemed completely unselfconscious of his nudity, as he ran the wet cloth over that hard, taut body, and Aidan swallowed with great difficulty, trying to tear his gaze away, to give the man some privacy.
They were not lovers, nor would ever be. They were simply two men caught in a situation. That was all it was.
He focused on one of the candles, nervously twining his fingers around each other. What had seemed so clear before, now became shadowed, complicated. This man had taken his body, been more intimate with him than any other, and yet, now, it seemed that they were further apart than as strangers.
“Aidan.”
He started nervously, staring at Torin as the general walked toward him, dark skin glistening.
“What is the matter?” A large hand cupped his chin, raised his face so that he had to meet concerned brown eyes. “I will not hurt you. Tonight, I can give you the pleasure you should have had.”
There were no words for the anxiety that he felt, and he had no way of deciphering where it had come from, or why it had arisen now, after the fact. He was no virgin now
to shrink from a man’s touch. Torin was not under randice’s sway now.
And yet, he could not rid himself of the words that rang in his ears, how the general had sounded last night, the passion and the love that had escaped his control.
Amadan. Torin had called that name with such love, such want and need.
What would it be like to have that passion, that caring? He could not even imagine it. No one had ever counted him as their beloved, and as things stood, most likely never would.
A thumb traced along his jaw, and he blinked, coming back to himself, chasing the useless thoughts away. He was being self pitying. There was no place for such a thing right now. He need only keep one thing in mind. This might be pleasurable, and he might admire Torin keenly, perhaps even feel something more than that, but there was no future for them.
He smiled then, a little forced, and began to disrobe, a flush rising on his cheek that he could not control.
“I know you would not hurt me, my lord. I am just being foolish.”
Torin smiled very slightly, and bent to kiss him, softly and carefully. “I think it would be strange if you had no reservations, my boy. You hardly know me. This has been forced upon us both, and like you have pointed out, we have to turn it into something of our own making. I can only promise to take care of you tonight, to show you what this should be.”
Aidan felt his nerves settle with the kiss. He could do this. There was even a very faint anticipation that made him shiver, his cock begin to rise. Torin’s promise of pleasure was tantalizing, and his newly awakened body was eager for instruction. He had to stop thinking, and just let this happen, let the experience unfold. For this moment, they were safe, however long that may last, and he would allow himself to feel, to…
His thoughts scattered as Torin drew him close, sliding powerful arms around his slim form, pressing their naked bodies tightly together. The feel of damp skin against his, the ridges of muscle, the warmth and power, made him want to give in return, uncertainly reaching out to wrap his own arms around Torin’s back.
Torin explored his mouth with slow, deep thoroughness, taking his time, tasting every crevice, withdrawing with languid strokes that invited Aidan’s tongue out to play.
Aidan reciprocated tentatively, trying to imitate what he was experiencing, hoping to give the older man as much pleasure as he was receiving. He felt safe in the circle of these arms, something he had never experienced before, something that made no sense in these surroundings, and with this man.
Torin broke the kiss, trailed his lips down Aidan’s neck, laving the skin one moment, nipping softly the next.
Aidan became aware that he had tilted his head to the side, a submissive posture that made Torin growl ever so slightly and bite a little harder. Aidan flushed as a moan escaped his lips, but the sense of domination awoke something inside him, something that wanted desperately to be claimed, to be possessed utterly. He had never realized that such a thing existed within him, and the discovery was both confusing and freeing at the same time.
Torin backed him to the bed, pushed him down upon it, controlling every movement with utter ease, as though it were second nature to him. Aidan could only be grateful for the older man’s experience. He himself was lost in the moment, clinging to Torin’s shoulders and arching up to press his chest against the general’s, glorying in the feel of hot flesh against his.
His cock was rigid with need, weeping copiously, and Torin gathered some upon his fingertips, bringing the moisture to Aidan’s entrance.
He tightened against the touch, uncertain, remembering the initial burn of such an invasion, but Torin whispered in his ear, hot breath making his eyes roll back as a full body shiver overtook him.
He arched as the finger sank within him, but his attention was more on the sensitivity of his ear, the way the general’s voice and the little gusts of air drove him to distraction, goose bumps rising all over his body.
He tried to move his head away, but Torin merely gave a low chuckle, pursuing him, continuing the torment, or was it pleasure? Either way, it took time for him to realize that there were now two fingers within him, and that there was no pain with their presence. He felt tight, full, but it was nothing like the initial experience.
Aidan reached out with clumsy, uncertain fingers, tracing over the thick column of the general’s cock, marveling at the differences between them, how much bigger the older man was than Aidan’s own slender, curving member.
It seemed amazing to him that it could possibly fit inside him, and yet it had, bringing pleasure in the end.
The fingers within him delved deeper, twisted and scissored, strange and yet…he gasped as they slid over that spot with him, rubbing and pressing.
He stared blindly at the ceiling, as his body writhed mindlessly, pure sensation overwhelming his senses.
Torin tormented him, ruthlessly manipulating that spot, watching now with glittering eyes, lust evident in the way he bit his lip, all attention on Aidan, on how he was affecting him.
Aidan’s lips parted, to plead or to cry out, or…the tightness coiled within him, rising, curling, his breath failed, a silent scream rising from his lungs, then sweet, sweet release, pleasure so intense he thought he might die from it, body held suspended, rigid. Dear gods…
He fell back to earth, straining for air, not sure he was truly part of his body again, or if he was still floating somewhere else.
He dimly felt the press against his entrance, but was too dazed to tense, too caught in the fading throes of his release, sweet echoes still making him spasm.
The head of Torin’s cock slid just inside, caught, held there by the tightness. Aidan barely had time to take in the sensations, before the general pressed farther, his thickness spreading Aidan’s body open.
He took in a heaving breath, fingers clenching upon heavily muscled shoulders, feeling the older man loom over him, covering him completely as those lean hips thrust, pulling back a little, then forging ahead once more.
It was too big, surely, yet there was no true pain, only an aching soreness that perhaps lingered from the first experience.
He writhed upon the impalement, uncertain, half believing that pain was inevitable, settling only as Torin’s hands came up from underneath, curling over his shoulders and drawing him further down upon the invader. Held so, he could not evade even a little, a choked whine escaped his lips as the general surged the last few inches, finally settling deep in Aidan’s body, securely held.
Aidan pulsed around the thickness, twitching uncontrollably, his body as unsure about this as his mind was. This all seemed more powerful, more real than the initial taking. He was taking in details, feeling things more. It must be because he had already come. His mind was more aware. His attention not diverted.
He bit his lip hard as Torin withdrew, the sensation strange and distracting, then arched into the returning thrust with a small cry. He felt the head of the general’s cock slide over that spot and he whimpered, almost too sensitive as his body came down from its orgasm.
Torin’s hands tightened, pulled him down with each thrust, the thickness driving deeper than before, conquering new territory with each pass. He looked up, riveted by the expression that contorted the older man’s face, eyes narrowed, lips curled into a snarl of need and want, a flush on those lean cheekbones.
He was beautiful, and Aidan’s heart gave a small skip. Without thought, he raised his head and bit at the sweat streaked throat above him.
It seemed to trigger something within Torin, who threw his head back, breaking the bite, as he shuddered hard, hands tightening upon Aidan’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. He thrust hard and harder, then his hips shuddered and Aidan felt hot pulses within him, a deep groan escaping Torin’s gritted teeth.
He held himself rigid for long moments, his breath laboring like bellows, then collapsed upon Aidan.
Breathless himself, Aidan tentatively, reverently, stroked Torin’s tousled hair from his face. In the dim candlelig
ht, he could see the mark of his bite, and he reached out to touch it, wondering at his own daring. He let his fingertips trace it then curl away, a sense of shame rising within him.
He did not have the right to mark the man. He was not Aidan’s and never would be.
Whatever had possessed him?
He could only hope Torin would not be angry at the liberty he had taken. He had no idea if such a thing was normal, but he doubted it. It seemed something that only true lovers would allow between them. Something more than just a sexual necessity as this had been.
Still, he could not refrain from stroking Torin’s hair, savoring the softness of the black strands and letting it smooth through his fingers wistfully. If only he could always have the right to such intimacy. He shook off the melancholy, determined to grasp the moment.
And what a wonderful moment it was. He smiled a little, closing his eyes and letting himself drift, loving the weight of the other man pressing him into the bed. Torin had been right. This had taught him only pleasure.
* * *
He woke groggily, a touch on his bare hip. He froze then, completely aware that it was not Torin, although how he knew, he could not say. He could dimly see the guttered candles on the other side of the bed, but there was a glow behind him, lending faint and flickering light to the room.
Nestled up to Torin, held tightly against his chest, he had felt safe. Until now. He knew all too well who was behind him, who touched him with such possessive familiarity. Fingers trailed over his buttock, tracing his flesh, and he could hear harsh breathing picking up behind him, lust thick in the air.
