by Ariel Tachna
Immediately, Rhicer’s hand closed around it, the sensations enough to have Kanath arching with pleasure. Fortunately, his lover’s arm went around his waist, supporting him, else he would surely have fallen to the ground.
Kanath’s reaction was everything Rhicer could have hoped for and more, but it posed a problem he had not considered in suggesting this sylvan setting for their conversation. As long as they were talking, it was ideal, but now, wishing they could stretch out beside each other, he was stymied. He did not even have his cloak, the day being far too warm to require it. Stopping long enough to return to the keep, particularly in the state they were in, was unthinkable, however, which meant he needed to find another solution. He glanced around the clearing again, assessing it rapidly. The moss that grew in the lee of the remaining wall would provide a soft seat, the wall some support for their backs. “Come sit with me,” Rhicer suggested, reaching for Kanath’s hand and leading his lover to his chosen spot.
Kanath followed eagerly, settling onto the moss and reaching for Rhicer. One hand pulled his lover down for another hungry kiss while the other grabbed Rhicer's hand and returned it to his own aching cock.
Rhicer answered the kiss with matching hunger, all thoughts of who controlled what burned away by the heat of their escalating passion. His hand took up a rhythm designed to arouse, his tongue matching it as it surged between Kanath's lips. He wanted his lover mindless with desire, moaning and writhing against him.
Kanath leaned back against the wall, bracing himself to lift his hips into Rhicer's caress. More than once since drinking the potion, he had dreamed of Rhicer touching him this way, but he had never truly believed he would see those dreams realized. Until last night, he would have denied wanting to see those dreams realized, but now, in the shadowy glade, with no one to see or hear but his lover and the birds that flitted idly overhead, he gave voice to his hidden desires, his words tumbling out in an incoherent babble, testament to the power of Rhicer's caress.
“Let go, my love,” Rhicer whispered, leaning close to Kanath's ear, his hand never slowing its deliberate strokes. He had imagined this moment, alone in his room, but he had underestimated the beauty of watching his lover move beneath his hand, arching up into his caress, seeking a release that only Rhicer could give him. Overwhelmed by the force of his emotions, he lowered his head to Kanath's shoulder, struggling for control. Kanath did not realize that, though, hands closing around Rhicer's skull, urging him lower.
Immediately, Rhicer complied, his mouth sliding to the enticing disks he had teased earlier with his fingers. Closing his lips around one tight peak, he suckled firmly in time with the movement of his hand.
The drag of the blond's mouth on his sensitive nipple sent Kanath over the edge, his cock twitching rapidly, coating Rhicer's hand and his own stomach in creamy fluid. His eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed backward, letting the wall support him fully. His breaths continued in sharp little pants as the enormity of what had just happened washed over him. His climax, from little more than the touch of Rhicer's hand, had been as strong as any he had ever experienced. From Rhicer's hand. He was half-sitting, half-lying on a bed of moss, his shirt and breeches undone, his sated cock still cradled by Rhicer's hand... Rhicer's hand. Every bit of a lifetime's worth of conditioning rebelled at the thought, protesting that this must be wrong, that somehow this could not have happened, but he could not deny the evidence before his eyes. Nor did he want to anymore.
That thought surprised him, but denying his feelings had led to guilt, anger, jealousy, confusion. Now, though, he felt none of those things, only a bone-deep sense of well-being that far surpassed anything he had ever known with the women he had consorted with in the past. That realization drew his eyes up to meet his friend’s. A single glance revealed the unassuaged passion that still rode the other man hard. Guilt swept over Kanath as he realized how incredibly selfish he had been. At first, he had been so concerned about keeping things equal, about giving as good as he got, but all those thoughts had fled when Rhicer touched his erection. He was not a selfish lover. He never had been, and he had no intention of starting now. As much as he had fought it, as uncomfortable as the idea continued to make him, Rhicer was his lover now, and it was time to come to terms with that. Pushing himself back up to sitting, he smiled lasciviously at Rhicer. “It seems you have a little problem there, lover,” he drawled, hand stretching out to cup the heavy bulge.
“You don't have to—” Rhicer began, only to have his words cut off by a fierce kiss.
“No, I don't have to,” Kanath agreed when they separated, “but I do want to. Let me give you back the pleasure you gave me.”
It was an offer Rhicer could not refuse. He leaned back against the wall as Kanath shifted onto his knees, reversing their position of a few moments ago. Eyes wide with wonder, Kanath unlaced his lover's breeches, freeing the rampant erection within. Pushing aside his niggling doubts, he reminded himself that he knew exactly what to do with an aching cock because he dealt with his own on a regular basis. Tending to Rhicer's could not be so terribly different. Taking a deep breath, he closed his hand around the long, thick shaft.
Rhicer's hips lifted from the mossy bed of their own accord, his entire body energized by the galvanic contact. Already, the sight of Kanath's face transformed by his release had left the blond's control wavering. He had held off, though, hoping for this exact event. He would never have asked Kanath to reciprocate when he himself had only just come to terms with the idea of their sexual interactions, but he had hoped his lover would return his attentions. The reality was far more than he could ever have imagined.
The hard length was heavy in Kanath’s hand, the angle slightly awkward as he knelt facing his lover. He momentarily considered moving behind Rhicer so the movement of his hand would be more like stroking his own erection, but that would deprive him of the vision of his lover’s face etched with passion. He would simply have to get used to the angle. The tip of Rhicer’s cock leaked fluid steadily, coating Kanath’s knuckles. Pausing for a minute, the younger man ran his palm across the mushroomed head, coating his skin with the slick fluid before returning his attention to the long shaft. Rhicer moaned and bucked into his hand, bringing a pleased smile to Kanath’s lips at the thought that he could please his lover as well as he had been pleased. Feeling daring, he used his free hand to reach between Rhicer’s legs and fondle the heavy sac. That unexpected touch broke Rhicer’s control, his orgasm leaving him limp and quivering beneath Kanath's hands.
Blindly, Rhicer reached out for his lover, pulling the other man into his arms. His lieutenant came willingly enough, head cradled on Rhicer's shoulder as it had been so many times before. The difference was in the lack of barriers between them and the incredible climaxes they had each wrung from the other. In harmony with the world for that moment in time, Rhicer kissed the dark curls on the top of Kanath's head, smiling as his lover tilted his face up for a real kiss. Rhicer indulged him eagerly, their lips brushing repeatedly, tenderly, neither deepening the kiss, simply enjoying the moment of post-coital bliss before the real world intruded again. With a sigh, Rhicer relaxed onto the moss, content for the time being to stay as they were. The most amazing sense of well-being suffused him as they lay there in each other's arms. “I love you, Kanath.”
“Rhicer!”
He turned at the sound of his name. “Yes, my Lord?” he asked when he saw his liege lord approaching. It had been a month since the wedding that had ended the war between their country and Mordyna. He had never seen his sovereign looking happier. It seemed that marriage agreed with the older man. Rhicer suppressed a smile as he considered the previous month. He, too, had never been happier, though he had taken pains to hide it, wanting to avoid questions he dared not answer.
“I have been thinking,” the king declared, linking his arm through his captain's and leading him toward his study. “We have been a country at war for too long. It is time we began to think like men of peace.”
Rhicer had the sudden memory of the wise woman, Mistress Rodard, scorning men for their warring ways. “I think that is a marvelous idea,” he agreed. “What do you propose?”
Smiling, the king pulled a rose from the bouquet that adorned his desk, one of the many changes Nische had wrought in the keep, and slid the stem in next to the laces of his friend's tunic. “I find it much easier to think of peaceful things now that I have my lady wife to remind me of them,” he explained.
Rhicer froze, his eyes caught by the rose. He and Kanath had returned to the ruins frequently over the past month, always to find the rosebuds there ready to burst into bloom without ever opening. He had given up trying to explain, simply accepting that it would be that way. He had even come to think of the flower as their own personal sigil. Though the keep was often decorated in the lush blooms, the flowers were always open, releasing their soft fragrance. He wanted to throw the flower away, to reject what would surely be his king's next comment, but he dared not raise the man's suspicions. ”You certainly seem happier now,” Rhicer allowed neutrally.
“I am,” the king agreed. “It is past time you had a wife of your own.”
Rhicer shook his head. ”No, I cannot. It would not be right,” he protested immediately. “My heart is already taken.”
“By a woman dead these twenty years,” the king reminded him. “You have mourned her long enough, Rhicer. She threw her life away needlessly, and now you are doing the same thing. Would she not have wanted you happy?”
Rhicer was not sure, given Eldvese's mind-set before her death, whether she truly would have wanted him to be happy, but he did not say that aloud. “I am happy,” he said instead. And it was true. Despite the necessary secrecy, despite the time that passed between their assignations, he was happy with Kanath, happier than he had been even when Eldvese was alive. They managed to slip away to the ruins together three or four times a week, the stolen hours filled with passion. They had not yet made love, Rhicer being nervous about broaching the subject, but Kanath's hands and mouth were pure magic, and he did not even feel the lack.
King Emyl's expression clearly conveyed his disbelief. “You need something to live for besides your duties,” he insisted. “We had no choice these many long years, but that time is over now. You are free to dedicate yourself to something… someone else.”
He already had. Telling the king that, though, was not an option, not when his friend would then immediately demand to know who.
“Really, your Highness, I am perfectly content as I am,” Rhicer insisted.
“Perhaps ‘your Highness’ would believe that, but I am speaking as your friend, not your commander. Surely you can understand my desire to see my joy shared by others,” Emyl continued. “Mistress Todan, perhaps. She is young enough to give you children still, but not some flighty miss who would drive you crazy with her silliness.”
Uncomfortable now, Rhicer shook his head, trying to find a way out of this conversation as quickly as possible. “She is a lovely lass, but not really what I am looking for,” he demurred. She was not at all what he was looking for. She was not Kanath.
“No?” the other man asked, surprised. “Well, perhaps the Widow Bytor, then. You are more of an age with her, though she is still young enough to retain all of her beauty.”
Objectively, Rhicer could admit that they were both beautiful women and would make some lucky men wonderful wives, but they could no longer spark his interest. He suspected, though he had no intention of finding out, that neither of them would even be able to rouse him. Marriages were arranged for many reasons, but he hated the thought of condemning a woman to a loveless marriage with an unfaithful husband for no good purpose. The king was clearly determined, however, which meant finding a way to delay until he could invent an excuse his sovereign would accept. “I will consider it,” he allowed, “but if you will excuse me, I promised to meet Kanath so we could adjust the patrol schedules now that we are less under threat.”
“You work too hard, Rhicer,” the king reprimanded gently.
“I work hard so you don't have to,” Rhicer countered, walking to the door. He bowed slightly and left, wondering how he was going to explain all of this to his lover.
He was still pondering that question when he reached Kanath’s chambers, where they had agreed to meet to discuss patrol schedules. As he knocked, he mused that one of the advantages of conducting an affair with his lieutenant was the number of excuses their shared responsibilities gave them to spend time closeted together discussing strategy. People were used to seeing them together so no one looked beyond that to the rest of what they were doing.
Inside the room, Kanath paced nervously. It had become his routine as he waited for Rhicer, mind racing as he wondered what would transpire between them this time, his body aching for his lover’s touch, his mind afraid this would be the time Rhicer did not come, the time when his lover decided it was too much work hiding like this. Those doubts faded the moment Rhicer took him in his arms, but the minutes leading up to any meeting were fraught with tension. He imagined, sadly, that they would always be this way, for he would never have the kind of public, permanent commitment that would ease those fears forever. His eyes fell on the bouquet of rosebuds on his dresser. Flowers now adorned many of the tables and chests in the keep, giving Kanath an excuse if anyone ever questioned the buds in his room. Only Rhicer knew where those blooms came from, for they had gathered them together the last time they had gone to the ruins.
Over the past month, they had turned the little clearing into a haven for their love, arranging some of the tumbled stones to form a cairn where they kept a blanket on which to recline as they explored each other’s bodies. His hands and lips knew Rhicer’s body from head to foot now, as Rhicer’s knew his. Vivid images assailed him, of Rhicer’s hands stroking him to completion, of Rhicer’s tongue licking him clean. The first time his lover had done that, Kanath had almost pulled away, but Rhicer’s hands had stopped him. “Let me see if you taste as good as you feel,” he had murmured, and Kanath had been helpless to resist. Rhicer’s tongue was as talented as his hands, and Kanath had felt himself hardening again despite his recent climax. Rhicer had just smiled at him and licked a little more, until he was completely clean.
It had taken several more encounters before Kanath worked through the reservations holding him back from reciprocating. He always made sure Rhicer found his release, but it had taken several amazing orgasms from—and in—Rhicer’s mouth before he finally worked up the courage to push his lover back onto the blanket and take the straining cock in his mouth. Even then, he had choked on it the first time, trying to take too much, too fast. Rhicer had not seemed to notice, though, too aroused by the whole situation to care. Kanath had taken his time after that, licking along the entire length, his hand caressing what his mouth did not cover. The slightly bitter taste had surprised him at first, but it had not been unpleasant, just unexpected. A few more tentative tastes had been enough to convince him he could do this. After that, he had relaxed and concentrated on the sounds of pleasure escaping Rhicer's mouth, letting them guide his movements. He had gagged a little when his lover's creamy fluid filled his mouth, again because it was unexpected rather than unpleasant.
The next time, he had swallowed it all with no problem.
A knock interrupted his thoughts, and his heart leapt as he started toward the door. His memories had left him eager for Rhicer's touch, Rhicer's taste. He only hoped his lover was alone, because hiding the erection in his trousers would be impossible.
Only Rhicer stood outside his door, but for once, the sight of his lover was not reassuring, for a rose adorned Rhicer's chest, not a rosebud like the ones in his room, but a full-blown bloom. Jealousy exploded inside him. He had no idea who had dared attach their symbol to his lover, but he would not stand for it. He grabbed Rhicer's hand, dragging him inside and pinning him against the wall.
“What is this?” he demanded, pointing to the rose, while a small,
still rational part of his mind pointed out that Rhicer would never be so cruel as to flaunt a betrayal in his face this way.
Rhicer sighed. He had hoped for a reasonable conversation to figure out how to dissuade Emyl from his plans, but that was clearly going to have to wait. He lowered his head and kissed Kanath tenderly. “Our king is in love,” he observed, “and thinks that the entire court should share his happiness.”
“He gave you this?”
Rhicer nodded. The frown on Kanath's face did not ease, though. “Why? What did he say?”
There was no point in avoiding the truth. He would have to tell Kanath eventually, and the sooner he explained, the sooner he could weather the storm and move on. “He thinks I should marry. He wants me to be happy.”
“You don't need to get married to be happy,” Kanath protested. Rhicer could not get married! He had just found his lover! He could not lose him now! His thoughts brought him up short. Only a few short weeks ago, he had dreamt of finding a woman to love, to marry, and had been angry when the love potion interfered with that. How things had changed! His only thoughts now were of Rhicer, of losing Rhicer, of being forced to watch the man he loved marry someone else. He could not do it. He could not bear that.
“So I told him, but since I cannot tell him about you, he saw no reason to believe me,” Rhicer explained. “He has several suitable candidates in mind.”
“No,” Kanath declared firmly, snatching the rose from Rhicer's tunic and throwing it to the floor. “They can't have you! You're mine.” He stalked away from Rhicer to the vase of rosebuds they had collected the day before. He snapped one off and prowled back to his lover, sliding the stem into the hole where the other rose had been. “You're mine,” he repeated.
