If you don't remember what happened in the last five chapters, you can read them HERE. (Scroll to the bottom).
Myths, Secrets and Love 6
Rodric twirled the golden chalice between his fingers before gulping down the remainder of the wine he’d been given. He lay back against the copper tub filled to the brim
He remembered the gentle, tentative press of those lips on his. They had been surprisingly soft for one so rough. Rodric shivered. Once, twice, those carnal bows had pressed against his, waiting no doubt, for him to push him away. How could he? How could he demand he leave when a simple touch of their mouths felt so right? Fergus closed the little remaining distance between them. He was so close Rodric could feel the outline of his erection pressed against his own.
“Tell me now if you want me to stop,” Fergus whispered.
Rodric wet his lips. The words he knew he should be saying becoming stuck in his throat at the sight of Fergus’ lust filled gaze. Fergus touched his arm and he shuddered. Feather light fingertips raced up his arm to his shoulder and green eyes framed by long golden lashes bore into his.
“Last chance, Captain.”
Fergus teased him, a small smile on his lips but uncertainty in his eyes. Rodric nodded. He knew there would be no going back. The truth was he didn’t want to go back. He’d had countless women in his bed, in his life, but no kiss, no touch, had ever felt so intimate as Fergus’ did at that moment.
Rodric heard the sharp intake of Fergus’ breath. The smile vanished and the vivid eyes grew wide and hopeful. Lightly, Fergus’ fingers trailed to his neck and laced at his nape, forcing him to tilt his head as those incredibly soft lips meshed against his again. Rodric moaned. Blood found its way to his limbs again and he discovered he could move. He could draw them closer; he could make them one. His hands grasped Fergus’ waist and brought him tight against him. Fergus’ whimper traveled straight to his dick, fattening it further. The fingers in his hair tightened as he teased the seams of the other man’s lips, beckoning him to open for him. He didn’t need to beg. Fergus opened his mouth and allowed him entrance into the treasure trove. Their tongues found each other, mingling, dancing in a macabre dance of lust that had no end in sight.
Bells sounded in the distance and loud panicked voices filtered from the streets below. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he pulled away, panting. Fergus’ nose wrinkled in confusion. His lips were red and swollen from the force of their kisses and a sense of perverse satisfaction coursed through Rodric at the sight. He reached for Fergus, eager to claim him again but his friend took a step back.
“The bells are ringing.” Fergus’ voice was husky, sensual even in its urgency. Rodric shivered.
“Yes,” he managed to say. It’s what caught my attention,” he decided to explain not wanting Fergus’ to think that he didn’t care.
The voices grew louder, screams rent the air and someone shrieked fire. All trace of passion vanished from Fergus’ eyes as he hurried to the window to gaze outside. Rodric didn’t move. A sudden chill made his teeth chatter. What had he done? Fergus turned to look at him, excitement for what was happening clear in his eyes. Their kiss forgotten and cast aside as another conquest, another jest, another game. Rodric clenched his teeth. What madness had possessed him to allow that kiss? He forced a smile to his lips, feigning indifference.
“Fire, pirates and mayhem,” he choked out in a surprisingly steady voice. “Let’s get to it.”
Fergus grinned and ran ahead. Rodric shook his head and followed him at a more leisurely pace. He too would bury the kiss aside and forget it ever happened. After tonight’s battle, he’d find a woman to comfort him and tend to his needs. He had gone on too long without the company of a woman’s body and that, he decided as he drew his sword and prepared to step aside, was what had driven him to accept Fergus’ kiss. Grinning back at his comrade, he stepped outside into chaos.
“Sir, Sir Belavue.”
Rodric started. His heart in his throat he opened his eyes to discover that the sun was setting and the amiable servant that had tended to him had returned.
“I am sorry to disturb you, Sir, but dinner is ready and Queen Lenara awaits your presence.”
Nodding, Rodric allowed the young man to help him out of the tub. He’d fallen asleep while bathing. He passed the soft linen the servant had offered him to dry with over his face. He hadn't been aware of being so exhausted. Perhaps, he should give up. Fergus was a grown man that could take care of himself and had demonstrated it countless times in the past. Yet-- Rodric licked his lips-- Rum and chocolate...
To be continued...
Now, off you go to read some more flash fiction from great authors