And…his name. Again, and again.
My name.
“Kas, Kas don’t tease me. Kas…”
He wanted to laugh, but he bent forward instead and braced himself on one hand, kissed Myrddin quiet. “No words.” He kissed him again, kept his fingers moving—in, out—slow penetration that was nothing but a tease for both of them, satisfying only in its promise. Myrddin wormed one of his hands between them, took Kas’ cock in his fist and stroked just as slowly.
It felt good, the same tingling touch as that blood on his lips. It made Kas wonder what it would feel like when his cock was inside Myrddin instead of his fingers. Without another thought, he leaned back and pulled his hand away, tried to jerk Myrddin’s thighs wider apart. Myrddin stopped him before he could do what he wanted.
“Kas. Wait, wait.”
Purely aggressive, Kas pulled on his leg. “Again? Wait? No.”
“Yes. Please?”
He paused, crawled forward over Myrddin’s body and licked his last word off his lips. “Please… That word. I like it. It is mine.”
Breathless amusement warmed Kas’ lips. “I’ll say it again, just for you. Please?” Myrddin leaned up, his mouth an offering that Kas was more than willing to take. This time Myrddin slipped his lips away, kissed Kas’ cheek, his throat, his collarbone, his shoulder. When he pushed at Kas’ chest, Kas allowed it, until he sat back on his knees, and Myrddin was braced on his thighs, looking up with lust and mischief in his gaze.
His mouth moved down, down, down, traced trembling patterns of heat and tongue over Kas’ chest, his abdomen, lower and lower until Myrddin was lying on the ground. He used one hand to hold himself up and kept the other at the base of Kas’ cock while his tongue played at the tip, made circles, whorls, spirals, until he leaned forward, took the whole head in his mouth and groaned.
Kas’ breath shallowed, sped. He reached down one hand and tangled his fingers in Myrddin’s hair, stared at his wet lips as they moved down, then up again. He pulled back, and there was tongue again, lapping, sucking, wrapped around his cock. All the while those eyes stared up at him, bright with a spark of mischief and more than a hint of Myrddin’s own pleasure.
Kas’ gaze was fixed on the sight, the most gorgeous submission he’d yet gained. He liked it better when he could see what Myrddin was doing to him, hear it—the lash of his tongue, wet sounds…moaning.
He liked the moaning most of all, wanted more of it and knew how best to get it, but it was hard to make himself move, give up the pleasure. He jerked his gaze away from that mouth, down Myrddin’s back, over the curve of his buttocks.
Wait?
No. No more of wait. Kas dragged Myrddin back off his cock, clutched him close and brought him down under him, back against the grass. A startled sound escaped Myrddin’s mouth, but this time when Kas pushed his legs open, held his thighs apart, Myrddin reached for his hips and pulled him against his skin. “Please.” That word…
Kas leaned down, licked it off his lips again, tasted himself on Myrddin’s mouth and pressed his cock against the tight entrance he’d teased. Myrddin’s eyes opened wider, wider. A dark flush spread across his chest, up to his throat, and he held tight to Kas’ shoulders with both hands. “Kas, it’s too much. I—I—can’t—Kas.”
Kas liked the name even better now he’d heard it in that voice, guttural, stripped of everything but feeling. It was the voice of nerves drawn taut and abused. He knew they were a lie—those words. Myrddin squeezed both legs tight around his back, pulled him closer and urged him deeper into heat and tightness.
He drew back and thrust all the way inside, held himself still when Myrddin cried out and knew then that something, something was missing. What was it? Myrddin beneath him was warm and willing, giving everything he could give now, submitting so fully it was as if he had never tried to run.
Kas closed his eyes, rolled his hips forward and bent to kiss away the moans that poured out of Myrddin’s mouth. What was it? The missing piece… The thing that had to be done. A rite. He had spilled blood with his kisses at the beginning, had tasted soul and spirit overflowing, some immortal well under Myrddin’s mortal promise. He wanted that, just as much as he wanted the body beneath him…and he had said he would help. Our rite.
A wild rustle broke apart the forest canopy as he reached down and wrapped his hands around Myrddin’s throat. He felt the pounding pulse there, beating under the skin, and dug his fingernails into it, nails sharp as talons.
Laughter—voices—whispering—he heard them growing in the shadow of the trees as blood spilled like water over his fingers. He felt Myrddin’s gasp in the smooth skin under his palms, drew his hands back and bent to kiss away the shining ghost that rose from his parted lips. There was still no surprise, no fear. It was as if Myrddin had been waiting for him to do this…or something like it.
Myrddin’s kiss tasted like spring, and green things sprang up from the flow of his blood, but he never stopped rocking, lifting his hips and thrusting back against Kas. He showed no pain, despite his life flowing away. Perhaps he felt no pain. His eyes were wide and glassy, his lips parted, his heart beating so fast Kas could feel it in his fingertips. Then it was still.
For a single instant, so sudden, so swift it had vanished before he could acknowledge it, Myrddin died in his arms. Then…he breathed, moaned, lifted himself against Kas’ body.
“Kas… Finish it, Kas.”
Kas stared into Myrddin’s mismatched eyes, shifted his hips and watched them widen. He buried himself all the way inside, then pulled back and did it again—again—again.
“Yes. Yes. Give me more. Yes, please.”
That word. Kas jerked Myrddin up off the ground, licked all his please off his lips and kissed him. He moaned against Kas’ mouth, shook in Kas’ arms as he gave in to his pleasure. Heat wet Kas’ belly, his chest, and Myrddin squeezed around him tighter.
Kas shuddered, clutched Myrddin close against his body, and thrust once, twice, while he spilled himself inside. As he did so, more than pleasure filled him. There was a sense of rightness, the missing pieces slotted into place. He knew another truth then, but he had no words with which to share his understanding.
He was Death, and Myrddin was…someone who needed that. As Kas needed him. Even if it was counterintuitive, even if it made no sense—even if he couldn’t comprehend the why, he knew it was true, and was satisfied. He had the word he needed most anyway.
Mine.
Myrddin lay in Kas’ arms, breathing hard, more than willing to give in to his kiss, his easy strength. He had been shattered, broken, and now the pieces that were left wouldn’t give. For the first time since his mother had left him, Myrddin felt like he could breathe, even though he was still panting with the effort of his pleasure, the release of his power. He felt his own blood sticky on his skin and blinked at the profusion of greenery that had burst out of the ground around him.
“Hmm…ohh.” His first movement as he tried to sit up reminded him that his new lover was still inside him, still aroused. The thick heat of Kas’ cock was a pleasant pressure. He tried to push himself off it, but he only moved a few inches before Kas grabbed his hips and slammed him back down again. “Nnn—ahh!”
He sucked in breath, felt Kas settle him against his body, all the way inside, throbbing now, hotter, harder. Myrddin shook a little, bit his lip, tried again to lift himself off Kas’ cock, but the moment he thought he might escape, Kas seized him again and pulled him down. The shock of being filled so much, so suddenly, forced another cry out of him. Kas laid him back against the ground, hovered over him and held his arms down against the grass.
“My word. Give me my word.”
Myrddin stared up at him, pinned, gasping, then sucked in a breath and let it out on one, long syllable.
“Please…” The long, slow withdrawal of Kas’ cock from inside him was followed immediately by its return. One of his hands curled around Myrddin’s erection, thumb rubbing under the head, up and down and
his wrist twisting just so—Kas didn’t have to ask for the word this time. “Please, please, please—”
“Mine.”
“Ohh. Ohh—”
Without the distraction of his own soul overflowing, the strange sensation that was death without pain, without staying dead, the pleasure was more. Much more. Myrddin reached up Kas’ back, tangled his fingers in the wild fall of long dark hair and tugged him down, licked at his lips until he parted them, then gave in to his kiss.
Everything Myrddin tried to take, he ended up giving instead, but he couldn’t protest. There was something arousing about this wild strength, the desire in the black eyes. Kas. He smiled at the thought of it, then groaned before he could say a word. So deep. “You don’t—you don’t make any sounds, Kas. You don’t—mmm. Ka…ohhh.”
He sucked in a breath, arched his back off the ground with Kas’ next thrust and felt Kas’ hands slip from his cock and his hip down to his buttocks, part them wider, open him up. He sank deeper, and Myrddin felt Kas’ body shaking, quiet huffs of breath passing his lips. He was laughing. “You make sounds. Make sounds.”
“I—” But the moment Myrddin opened his mouth again, Kas pulled back. His thrusts forced out another groan, then another, and another as he drove in faster, clutched Myrddin tighter. Myrddin reached down and took hold of his own erection, bit his lip to keep back the eager moan that wanted to crawl out of his mouth. Having been told to, he didn’t want to give in. Was that all he could do? Was that—all—? “I won’t. I won’t.”
“More sounds.”
Kas’ hands moved along his thighs, spread them wider. A hitch of breath he couldn’t control escaped him when Kas pushed his fingers away and took hold of his cock again. Myrddin looked down his body, then up, met a black gaze so focused on him he couldn’t bear it and squeezed his eyes shut, bit his lip again. “No—”
“Stop?” With one last, agonizingly slow thrust, Kas did as he said. “Wait?” One more stroke, and he stilled his fingers. When Myrddin bucked against him, tried to make him move, touch him, stroke him, take him—anything—Kas stayed still, stared down at him…so obvious, his hunger.
No one had ever wanted Myrddin as much as this, or if they had, they hadn’t shown it, but maybe he couldn’t expect anything else. Death for my lover. He choked on a groan.
He shifted, back and forth, lifted his hips, brought himself as close as he could to Kas’ body, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t make Kas move—did Kas even know what he was doing to him? Myrddin reached down, slipped his fingers around his cock again, but in the same moment Kas lunged over him and dragged both his hands above his head. Kas held them, pinned them there and managed to startle another cry out of him with how suddenly deep he was.
“More. Sounds.”
“You want everything, everything, don’t you?” But there was something so knowing, so precisely sure in the black stare fixed on him that he almost laughed, moaned breathlessly instead as Kas shifted, started to take him again. “Death. You… I’m going to…going to…learn what that…means. That’s what you want.”
Kas bent over his mouth and bit his lip, almost gently, not quite…chastisement. “Not words. Sounds.” His fingers sprawled wide across Myrddin’s wrists, so that he could hold them with one hand, and Myrddin felt the other slip down his body again, hot in the narrow space between skin and skin until Kas gripped his cock, stroked swift and smoothly while he licked Myrddin’s lips of the hundred sounds he could no longer contain.
It wasn’t fair. He’d spent so long learning how to be the one in control, how to tease and take what he wanted from anyone—everyone. Not fair—
“Not fair.” Sharper, harder, Kas’ thrusts brought him to the knife’s edge of pain and his own release, kept him there with some perfect, impossible knowledge or his own power. “Not fair—nng. Kas, I need to—more please, please…” That word he didn’t seem to mind.
The onyx edges of Kas’ stare grew darker and brighter at the same time, and Myrddin felt his cock swelling thicker inside him. He let go of Myrddin’s wrists and held his chest against the ground instead, and Myrddin felt the harshness in his thrusts, stuttering in his hips now, the smooth rhythm shattered, brutal, still perfect.
He clutched at the back of Kas’ head, lifted his legs as he wrapped them around Kas’ back and heard himself begging, moaning, crying out without words. It didn’t matter anymore. All he wanted was the peak just beyond his reach, the waiting tension of it strung through his body in lines of fire and sensation. The fingers wrapped around his cock stroked with perfect pressure, and every thrust awakened pleasure like shooting stars, a cascade of ecstasy so intense it bordered on agony.
A wail escaped Myrddin’s control, and he heard, as if Kas were suddenly satisfied, the faintest sigh of breath in harmony below it. Suddenly every single one of Kas’ thrusts was at just the right angle to hit that place inside him, too much and so good he was suddenly holding back, trying desperately to make it last.
One more drive of Kas’ cock into his body, one more squeeze of his fingers around Myrddin’s cock, and he cried out again, dropped his head back against the grass and choked on his own sounds. His whole body spasmed, and Myrddin arched up off the ground and pressed against as much of Kas as he could.
Heat pulsed inside him, an accent of sensation, an unnecessary addition to what was already beyond bliss, and Kas slipped his hands around Myrddin’s body, from his hips to the small of his back, then up along the high, tight curve of his spine to hold him close. He relaxed a little at a time, but Kas’ hands did not. He lowered Myrddin to the ground, but descended over him even as he did so—held tight, then tighter, as if he had no intention of ever letting go.
The grass was cool and comforting against Myrddin’s oversensitive skin. His nerves felt raw, rough, ravished. He slid his legs down his lover’s back by inches, tangled them with Kas’ legs and turned his head into the crook of Kas’ shoulder. The minutes passed slowly, and he savored the freedom from his own internal burdens for a long while—until he wanted to move and couldn’t.
Kas held him against his chest with lean, strong arms, his fingers occasionally moving over Myrddin’s shoulders, up the back of his neck and into his hair. More than that, Kas’ cock was still inside him, a pleasant intrusion that had him breathing faster the moment he was aware of it.
As if he, too, only became aware the moment Myrddin did, Kas hitched his hips closer, bent his head to lick at the pulse beating in Myrddin’s throat. His mouth traveled slowly along the line of his neck, up to the curve of his ear.
“More, love.”
The hush of his breath roused a whole new set of shudders, but Myrddin shook his head and pulled back as much as Kas’ hold on him would allow. “Lover, Kas. Not love, lover.” He was uncomfortable with even the thought of love. They’d only just met, and that was fine for some things, these things, but love? Not love. “Lover…”
He lifted his mouth, and Kas kissed him, twitched his hips forward again, tightened his arms around Myrddin’s back and brought him back down, skin to skin, almost completely on top of him.
When he finally pulled his mouth away, Kas smiled. “My lover.” His voice was husky with heat, and Myrddin grinned, relieved, but Kas wasn’t through. “My lover, my love. Mine.” The soft promise of it stole Myrddin’s breath—and then again, “More, love.” Kas took him by the waist and moved him the rest of the way on top, settled him down on his cock.
“Kas, no—no…no…nn…nnng. Ohhh.” He was so full, and he could feel Kas getting harder inside him, stretching him more.
“Kas, I—” But Kas took him by the waist and held him still so he could thrust up, once, twice, enough to jar all the breath from Myrddin’s body and start those stars falling inside him again. “Aren’t you…aren’t you ever satisfied? I c-can’t…”
Kas leaned up on one elbow, reached out and took Myrddin’s chin in his hand. He had no choice but to meet that dark gaze while Kas spoke
chidingly, shaking his head, reminding him, “Sounds. Sounds, love.” He moaned, and Kas made a soft hmmm of approval, started thrusting up again.
Myrddin choked on a curse, leaned back to balance himself on Kas’ thighs, and gave in to the inevitable—gave in completely.
Chapter Three
Myrddin was trembling with exhaustion when Kas finally stopped. He lay shivering in Kas’ arms, every nerve overstimulated, teased and sated past endurance. Kas took one more kiss from him, though his lips were parted with panting, then laid Myrddin back in the grass and only touched him gently, soothing, easing. His hands were warm on Myrddin’s back, his arms, Kas’ fingers warm on his cheek, his lips, across his collarbone.
He made soft sounds, dozed for some hours, then startled awake and stretched slowly, slowly, before he lowered his arms around Kas’ waist again. “Still here, Kas? Or are you sleeping?”
Kas bent to his cheek, nuzzled him and kissed him. “Not sleeping. Still here. You were sleeping.”
There was humor in his voice again, but it was faint, though the black of his eyes was just as intense. Myrddin shifted, as uncomfortable under that stare as he had been with the idea of love, but Kas only kissed him once, then sat up and said it again.
“More words now, love.”
“Kas, you…you can’t call me that.”
Kas frowned, and the ground beneath him was suddenly drained of all its energies. The green that had grown out of Myrddin’s blood went to brown dust and dead stalks in an instant. “You call me Kas.”
Myrddin opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t the same thing, not the same at all, but Kas licked his lips in a way that made Myrddin’s whole body shudder.
“Words. Words for me, love.”
The sound of it ached with defiance, and this time Myrddin only sighed, succumbed to the soft pressure of Kas’ mouth on his lips and tried not to moan. Everywhere they touched, his skin tingled, and he was lightheaded now…and drowsy.
Deathless Page 3
