OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES (10 page)

"Good," said Nicholas. "That's so good. I love you so much …"

"I love you, too," he replied. And he watched as Nicholas arranged him, he watched Nicholas and let himself be arranged. His feet were slid up close to his butt, and his knees gently pressed as wide apart as they would go. His arms were stretched out to each side. There was nothing for his hands to hang onto, but he figured he could cope with that, he could keep them there.

Nicholas knelt between Dave's spread thighs, and slid his hands around Dave's waist; grasped him either side just above his hipbones, and gently encouraged him upwards. "Come on … arch your back the way you like to."

He did - happily, obediently - feeling that delicious curve shaping his backbone, feeling his thighs widen further still, his head tilt back and press into the pillow. He felt glorious, and then there was the silk shifting against his skin - Nicholas had been so right about that - and the ribbons adorning him, Nicholas adoring him…

"Now, stay exactly there, my darling man …" And Nicholas bent to take Dave's cockhead into his mouth, and suckle as sweetly as he'd treated Dave's balls; it was the only contact between them, and it held something of the divine.

Dave moaned raggedly, loving the feel of Nicholas's mouth on him with no barriers, no protection. They'd had the tests done weeks ago, but then with nothing being said, they'd taken a step back, somehow agreeing to save this experience for this night, to help make it all really count. Which meant that soon - soon - not soon enough - Nicholas would be fucking him for the first time without a rubber, there'd be Nicholas and Dave and nothing between them. Dave groaned in need, and arched up just a little more, opened his thighs, opened himself a little more, pushing the boundaries a little further. Nicholas chuckled around his cock, and the tremors made Dave
shake
….

Then a well-lubed finger slid into him and he was lost … lost … lost in warm golden darkness and a pleasure so intense. He tossed his head and a moan reverberated through him. He wasn't sure - he'd meant to ask, but he had no words - he wasn't sure if he was allowed to come yet - but the pleasure went on forever, for impossibly ever - and with no warning the end was upon him, and Nicholas rumbled appreciatively around him which meant it was permitted, it was approved - and the pleasure surged through him, making him quake so that even though he grabbed at the sheets with either hand, he couldn't help himself, he shook loose and lost the pattern he was meant to keep - his feet planted firmly and his thighs pushed him up - but that was all right, for Nicholas was holding onto his hip with one strong hand, staying with him, Nicholas's mouth and finger drawing every last ounce of pleasure through him and then returning it tenfold.

"Oh …" he groaned, collapsing back at last, sprawling back … "sorry, I'm sorry …"

"You beautiful man," Nicholas said fervent and low.

"God, you're incredible, you taste like the purest nectar." Then he was kneeling up between Dave's thighs, pushing in close and hauling Dave's rear onto his own thighs - intent - but not so intent that he didn't take care to ask, "All right? David?"

"Please," he said. "Please."

Dave's legs were too heavy with satiation to move, but Nicholas lifted one to hook a heel on his shoulder, bent the other leg around his waist - and then was pushing in, his cock lubed and
hot
and hard and it was so fucking intense, so fucking good - Dave cried out as if sundered, his eyes closing, his hands clutching, but Nicholas was wise enough to hear that right, to read that, to know that Dave was feeling it and loving it. And Dave gasped, and opened his eyes, opened himself further, let Nicholas's gaze pour down into him, and fill him, so they were two made one.

And they didn't last long, how could they possibly last - Nicholas's guttural groans rolling through them both, his long pale fingers digging into Dave's flesh as if hanging on for life itself - and then Nicholas was crying out and coming, his seed pulsing deep within Dave, a wet blessing deep inside him, Nicholas's seed becoming a part of him now - and the pleasure impossibly surged through Dave again, just once in an aftershock, leaving him weak and dazed and wonderful -

At last Nicholas collapsed down beside him, and they managed to shift, to hold each other near, Nicholas peppering kisses to whatever of Dave he could reach, until eventually the giddiness ebbed away and they both quietened, and then slipped away into a peaceful doze.

eight

Their wedding night had been spent in the luxuries of the best room in a manor house; their honeymoon would be spent in an isolated cottage on the Lizard Peninsula of Cornwall. Not that they were exactly roughing it, as the cottage belonged to a friend of Robert's and had been done up in a suitably traditional style but with no expense or mod-con spared. Also, Dave had to laugh at the English definition of 'isolated', as the village of Lizard was no further away than a ten-or fifteen-minute stroll.

Still, they had a magnificent view all to themselves, with the only other human construction in sight an old circle of standing stones on top of a steep rise to the north of them. Otherwise there was grassy moorland, with a sheltering hill close behind them, and in front - to the west - nothing but the edge of a high cliff, with the ground to the north descending to craggy rocks, then continuing on until eventually curving round to the west. Beyond all of that was the ocean. The beautiful, powerful ocean stretching all the way to a distant horizon. The place was quite breath-taking.

"Stunning," was Nicholas's muttered verdict on their first evening there as the sun began westering. "Stunning." He was, unnervingly, loitering almost right on the cliff edge, and with his hands jammed in his jeans pockets, too, so he wouldn't be able to grab onto anything if he tripped over his own clumsy feet or lost his balance.

"Mate," said Dave, easing up near him - though not too near. "Come back here, won't you? I am
not
going to lose you when we've only been married a day. And especially not over a cliff. It would make me seem - a bit too laid-back."

"But take a look down here! It's like we've got our own little private beach."

First Dave had heard of it. He sidled a little closer, and carefully peered over. A
long
way down - a long way down at the foot of the cliff, there was a crescent of pure white sand between two sharp dark outcrops of rock, with gorgeous turquoise water lapping gently on this mild day. "Beautiful," he said. And he'd thought Australia had cornered the market on beautiful beaches. But then he looked at the surrounds, which were mostly sheer cliffs. "We're never getting down there, though. I don't know if you'd even want to land a boat. They have pretty high tides here, don't they?"

"Not as high as South Wales, but two or three metres on a regular basis."

"And all those rocks," Dave continued, figuring he'd better quash any of Nicholas's whimsies before they turned into wants. "Not the place to go taking chances in boats."

"No," Nicholas agreed. "This area is known for its shipwrecks. All the 'romance' of the high seas!"

"Right. Not exactly the sort of romance we're after just now." Dave turned away, and looked for alternatives. "We could go explore those standing stones."

Nicholas obligingly came away from the cliff edge, but cast him a wry look. "Now who's being reckless… ?"

"Reckless?" Dave considered the stones, which had obviously been standing there for hundreds if not thousands of years. "Well, you'd be pretty unlucky if one of them happened to fall on you, after all this time."

Nicholas laughed, but followed along as Dave started ambling in that direction. "Where's your imagination, David Taylor? You - maybe one day the custodian of a Dreamtime site!"

"Oh." All right, that had probably been pretty stupid. "I don't know anything about standing stones. I guess they're full of religious significance, then?"

"We don't know. They were made so long ago that their purpose has been forgotten. The knowledge hasn't survived like it has for the Aborigines in Australia. All we have are theories. And superstitions."

That didn't sound like so much fun. Not that Dave really believed in any of that kind of stuff, but here they were, alone in an isolated cottage with nothing but a circle of standing stones for company. And a very high cliff just beyond their front door. Dave was beginning to wonder if it would actually be a very good idea to spend the entire honeymoon in bed. He was just about to suggest this notion, when Nicholas continued, "There's probably a ghost story or two about these stones. We should ask around."

"Or not," said Dave. "Don't you think it's better not to know? Then we can just admire them as … as a feat of engineering. Something kinda beautiful, created by people who were probably every bit as smart as us. Or most of us, anyway … Certainly a lot cleverer than me!"

They were almost at the stones, and both remained silent for the last short climb up the steep rise. Then they were in the circle - what must have been at one time a pretty much perfect circle of tall stones, a total of-

"Don't count them!" blurted Nicholas.

"What?" Dave scowled at him. "Too late, anyway. There's - "

"
No
! Don't tell me!"

"Oh, for God's sake …" Dave rolled his eyes, while Nicholas either looked at Dave directly or at their general surroundings rather indirectly as if not even letting his subconscious pick up the pattern. "Right." There were nine stones in the circle, with their surfaces worn but most of them standing true, and only one looking as if it had been broken off at some stage. Then there was a tenth stone, squarer than the others and lying flat in the centre. There was a margin of bare dirt around the latter, as if the grass had been worn away by visiting feet. Dave wandered up to it, and propped his own foot on one edge. "So, what was this for, then?"

Nicholas shrugged. "We tend to think of them as altars, and I suppose they probably were. That's where some of the stories come in, anyway. People were sacrificed or executed or murdered on that, and their ghosts remain to haunt us."

Dave squinted at his partner, who was standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders hunched as if his hackles were up. "D'you believe in ghosts, then?" Dave asked, trying not to sound quite as sceptical as he actually was. "I thought you were a scientist!"

"I don't know … Not really …"

"You
do
, don't you!"

"Well, everything's made of matter and energy. 
We're
made of matter and energy. When we die, where does that energy go? If it's a good death, a peaceful death, maybe it just … transforms into other, entirely natural forces. If not …" And Nicholas actually shivered. "If not, maybe it lingers."

Dave considered him for a long moment, then walked back over to him and ran a hand down the underside of his bare forearm. "You know what?"

"What?" Nicholas looked at him, unsmiling.

"This is our honeymoon, remember? I reckon we should just head back to the cottage, and get settled in. And then we can climb into bed, and seriously try spending the entire two weeks there."

That earned him a grin, though Nicholas still seemed a bit shaky. "Sounds like a plan."

"It
is
a plan. Nothing and nobody is going to bother us there. Everyone knows a blanket will protect you against anything, ghosts or otherwise."

Nicholas laughed. They had already left the stone circle, and were ambling back down the hill. "Will you let me have one afternoon out of bed, though? Just one?"

"Dunno. Depends."

"I just want to - " Nicholas looked about him. "The coastal path must run round the back of the hill behind the cottage. If we pick that up and head north and then west for a mile or so, there's this place called Kynance Cove. It's meant to be really gorgeous. All dramatic rocks and pale sand and green sea water."

"All right," Dave agreed with a great show of reluctance. "As long as it's just one afternoon."

"They say it's very
Famous Five
, you know? That's- "

"Enid Blyton, yeah. Read the books as a kid."

Nicholas was back to glowing happily and walking freely, rather than being hunched and spooked. "This is just the place for an adventure, isn't it? All smugglers and spies, and great long hikes with bars of chocolate in our backpacks."

Dave laughed. They were almost back at the cottage. "I've got the perfect adventure in mind right now."

Nicholas's grin grew broader still. "Does it take place in bed?"

"It does."

"Will there be chocolate?"

"Yeah, I think we can manage some chocolate. You'll need your sustenance, after all."

Nicholas laughed, like a joyous peal of bells. "Then lead the way!"

The following morning Nicholas and Dave ambled into the village to say hello to the woman who acted as housekeeper and caretaker for the cottage when the owners weren't in Cornwall. Along with her mother and daughter, she also ran a small grocery store and news agency. Nicholas and Dave introduced themselves, and she shook their hands with a pleasant smile. "Margaret Widgery. This is my mother Joan, and my daughter Maeve."

The older woman smiled on them benignly from her comfortable chair placed directly in the sun pouring through the front windows. The younger woman said "Hiya" and finished tapping out a message on her smartphone before slipping it away into a pocket and returning to the task of shelving new stock. She had a flower - a white daisy - tucked into her abundant curly red hair.

"I hope you found everything shipshape at the cottage," Margaret was continuing. "It's just as Mrs Brett and her family like it, but you must say if there's anything you want done differently."

"No, it's great," Nicholas said. "I'm sure we'll be very comfortable there."

"I stocked the fridge, of course, but I wasn't sure whether you'd be wanting to eat dinner out, or cook for yourselves …" She paused, and confided with a hint of a blush. "I understand this is your honeymoon, but other than an extra bottle or two of champagne I didn't know - "

"We'll be fine," Nicholas assured her. "We can fend for ourselves, if need be!"