Page 62

“I suppose.” Lyr nods. “And you. Are you happy? Or safe at least? Are you safe with Atticul?”

“He’s a fool, like I said, his foolishness will keep me safe.” Opeth gets carefully to her feet. “And now, you should wait here.”

“Wait here? Why? Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go and tell someone who is looking for you where to find you. He’ll never do it on his own.”

Lyr waits under the willow tree. He can hear the feast going on, distant drumming and occasional shouts and pleasured screams. He lies back on the prickly ground and looks at the dark shapes of the willow branches in the moonlight. He thinks of Jareleezi. He has escaped her. He has come so far. He will not allow Damon to go to her. He feels good. He closes his eyes.

It happens in the dark, without a sound. The next thing he knows, there is a heavy body over him. A heavy chest on his chest. Lips on his. Familiar. A scent of musk and desire.

A kiss and a groan of pleasure Lyr feels in his bones. He kisses back, mouth open, passion breaking over him.

A tongue, thick in his mouth. Taking his mouth. He reaches up and his hands close around a head with hair shorn bone-short, familiar as breath. Damon moans with raw desire as he slips his tongue deeper into Lyr’s mouth. Lyr opens wider and feels like he is opening his whole body.

Damon. Damon.

Reality rushes in only a moment later. Lyr grunts and puts his hands flat on Damon’s chest and tries to push him off. Damon doesn’t move. Damon is so strong and so heavy it’s as if he were carved from rock. Lyr struggles to get his mouth free of the kiss and whispers, “No. Damon. No, we can’t.”

Damon kisses Lyr’s chin like he can’t stop kissing Lyr’s face. If Lyr needs his mouth free to speak, Damon will kiss the places his mouth falls upon. “We can,” he says between kisses, voice thick with need. “There’s no one around. Zai, I want you.”

“Atticul,” Lyr hisses as Damon kisses his neck, “Atticul is here. In your home.”

“Atticul is busy with his own whore. She promised me he would be very busy for the rest of the night. Let me enjoy mine.” Damon runs a hand through Lyr’s hair, holding Lyr’s head in place as he plasters their mouths together again. Lyr whines. He can’t help submitting to it. He’s never known Damon be like this. So free with his desires. So eager to take Lyr’s body. They are both burning with it.

But a moment later Lyr finds the strength to pull out of the kiss and say, “But it’s dangerous. So dangerous.”

“I don’t care,” Damon says, voice somewhere between a purr and a growl, “I have no power left to resist you, slave. I want you naked under me. I must have it now.”

Damon is tugging at Lyr’s clothing. Lyr lets him, helps him. He has no protests left. He lets Damon strip him out of his shirt and breeches. Stopping only to kiss him again like he can’t stop. His kisses are deep, more heated than they have ever been. Damon’s tongue glides around Lyr’s mouth, curious and consuming.

Lyr is spread naked on the earth before Damon. He feels like a sacrifice to some demon. The moonlight through the willow branches glints off the contours of Damon’s skull.

Lyr arches his back, presenting himself for Damon’s gaze and desperate for the way Damon looks back at him. Insatiable. It makes him feel like his insides are dissolving.

On Lyr’s chest, the runes are glowing, brighter in the moonlight than he’s ever seen them.

Damon reaches down and traces a hand over the four symbols. “These magical marks she left on you, what do they say?”

“I know not,” Lyr says, although he does. He knows exactly what they say and why they glow for Damon. But if Damon knew what those runes were truly for, he’d never want him like this. He’d likely kill him. Damon bends his head and kisses each one. His lips send bolts of pleasure through Lyr, from each rune to his roused cock. He cries out.

When Damon is done, he sits back, staring down at Lyr again. His chest and shoulders heave. He is panting with desire.

“Damon, Master, please. Let me see you.”

Damon nods, “Very well, slave.” He moves his hands and unfastens the buckles on his jerkin. He sheds it and the shift beneath. Lyr shivers at the sight of his chest. He’s so big and broad. “Please,” Lyr begs again, so aroused it comes out a broken gasp. “All of it. Let me see everything.”

Damon smiles, a tendril of moonlight glinting off his teeth. He bends and slides down his breeches. Lyr can just about see the shape of Damon’s strong thighs, the dark hair at their join and his big thick cock, hard and flush to his belly, glistening wetness, desire, at the tip. Lyr aches to see Damon roused this way, his desire made flesh.

One Man Army.

Lyr wishes there was more light so he could see Damon more clearly. But it’s enough. Could he even get all of that cock in his mouth? He isn’t sure.

“Oh,” Lyr says and it comes out as more a shiver than a word. “Please,” he says in a rough whisper. “Please let me taste you. Please let me, let me give you pleasure. I want to please you. I have dreamed of it.” Lyr gets up on his hands and knees and crawls to Damon. He wants to. He can’t waste the time it would take to get to his feet, but also, he wants to crawl before Damon. He wants to worship Damon like a God. “Master.”

When he reaches Damon, he kneels up. He runs his hands up Damon’s hard thighs. Damon’s legs are shaking. Damon’s breath is coming rough.

“Suck it,” he growls out, in a tone that makes Lyr weak. Damon always seems to know just what to do to make Lyr burn with arousal. “Suck me, slave,” Damon says, making Lyr gasp. “I won’t tell you again.”