Playing With Fire (11 page)

Wintras whimpered, ashamed of his confusion.

Zujan shifted, frowning, scooting even closer. He soothed Zujan automatically, hands sliding down along the slim back, murmuring, “Shh.” The actions eased the pale sorcerer, the long dark lashes brushing his skin, sensitizing it. He shifted again, his cock sliding along the soft, warm skin, and he closed his eyes, his own body betraying him as the pleasure rippled through him. Again, Zujan snuggled closer, rubbing harder.

He moaned, body thrilling to the touch. He could not blame the water or Zujan’s magics either, for he was the master now.

The pale eyes blinked open, staring at him. “You’re warm.” Husky and soft, the voice didn’t sound like Zujan’s.

He looked back, Zujan’s eyes the color of ice water. “You are now, too.”

“Yes. Thank you.” He got a smile, peaceful and warm.

This wasn’t like Zujan at all, and his confusion intensified. “Do you know who I am?”

“I… You said you didn’t like me. You said I was your prisoner.”

“Well…I don’t and you are.” He tried to say it firmly, but his hard cock was rubbing against Zujan’s belly…

“Do you know who you are?” Wintras asked suddenly. Zujan might not remember him. Could the man go through so many nobles as pleasure slaves that he would have forgotten? But surely Zujan should remember who he himself was.

“What?” Those eyes blinked up, curious.

“Who are you?” he asked again.

“I…” Zujan frowned, thought. “I am…tired. I am tired.”

Wintras nodded. “Yeah, me, too.”

It was likely late. They should sleep. Hopefully it would all make sense in the morning. And if not, at least he’d be rested enough to deal with it. He tucked Zujan into the crook of his arm, petting the slender back. It was awfully cozy quarters for his enemy, but he could hardly leave Zujan out in the cold to freeze again.

He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about it.

He closed his eyes firmly.

* * * *

He woke, warm and held close. It felt like a distant magic. He opened his eyes, vision clear and sharp. Bright. The room was familiar—like something he’d seen in a book once, a faded picture. He slid from the blankets, wandering idly from the hearth to the shelves of books, finding a heavy fur to wrap around him.

The long body on the bed stirred, hands reaching out, searching restlessly. He hummed, drawn to the motion, returning to the bed, fingers touching those hands. His companion stilled immediately, fingers sliding to twine with his own, a soft smile playing over the handsome face.

“Mmm…” He crawled close, wrapping the furs about both of them, cuddling in. Warm.

Strong arms wrapped around him, tugging him against the long body, and dark blue eyes opened, looking down at him. He smiled up, fascinated for a moment by the dark, the colors, so pretty. “You’re so different. Like being frozen changed you.”

“Am I? I haven’t been warm in so long.”

“You were frozen, Zujan. The firefaeries had all but killed you. They’re still outside, trying to get in, angry I brought you here. They can’t have you though - you’re mine now.”

“Yours…” He nodded, yes. Yes, that would be fine. He could belong to that heat, that strength.

The man looked surprised. “Just like that? Do you still not remember me? Do you remember yourself, Zujan?”

“I remember…” He frowned. “I remember ice. I remember the firefaeries, the bar’cha eating until there was nothing left but my breath.”

His companion shook his head, frowning, staring down at him for a long moment, and then one shoulder shrugged. “I am Wintras. You are Zujan. You belong to me now, and the firefaeries—the bar’cha?—they can’t have you anymore.”

“Good.” He reached up, stroked Wintras’ face, soothing the frown away.

Wintras smiled and brought their mouths together, tongue pressing into his mouth as he was rolled onto his back. He peeped, lips parting, hands sliding into the heavy hair. Wintras’ body was long and hot, cock hard as it slid against his thigh and nudged his balls. He wrapped his legs around Wintras, cuddling, eyes still caught in midnight blue. Wintras rubbed against him, mouth devouring his, tongue pushing in. He opened, moaning low, swallowing hard. So good. Felt so…big. Long fingers stroked along his neck, down to play with his nipples.

“I…” He arched, body moving into the touches, shivering so hard.

“Cold?” murmured Wintras. “You always were.”

Wintras rubbed against him, sliding and hot, hands touching him all over.

“Not with you. You warm me. Your hands…” He stroked Wintras’ hair, petting. “So pretty.”

Wintras smiled. “I like you like this. You remind me of the boys you enslaved.”

He thought, trying to figure out what that meant. Was he a slave? No. No, a prisoner. But he had always been a prisoner of some type. Always.

Wintras’ hand slid down and wrapped around his prick, tugging lightly. “I wonder if bringing Furn here would remind you of who you are.”

“Furn?” He took a deep breath, legs moving restlessly.

Wintras nodded, hand working him. “Your favorite.”

“Oh.” His favorite what?

Wintras kissed him again, tugging on his cock, making him feel good. Heat blossomed in his belly, making him jerk, toes curling. “You feel good, Zujan. Soft and silky.”

“Soft. I don’t feel soft…” No. No, he was hard. So hard. Wintras chuckled and kissed him again, thumb pressing into his slit. He gasped, eyes wide, heat pouring from him, pleasure making him ache.

“Oh.” Wintras gasped softly. “You’re beautiful when you come. I didn’t know that.”

“That… Oh, oh that was…so good. So warm…”

“Mmm…your turn. I want you to pleasure me with your mouth.”

“How?” He’d seen that, he knew he had.

Wintras frowned at him. “How? Are you telling me you can’t remember sex either? You’re no virgin, Zujan.”

“No. I can remember, like it was someone else, like it was a story told to me.”

“Yeah? Must be from being frozen for so long. Like, almost a year.” Wintras’ fingers slid along his cheek. “You can tell me about what you remember. After my pleasure.”

He leaned into the touch, nodding, letting Wintras’ hands push him down toward the long, hard shaft. Wintras was beautiful, a strong chest and muscled belly, trim hips all smooth and golden, the curls around Wintras’ cock the same color as his hair. He nuzzled them, breathing in the musk and heat of Wintras, humming.

Wintras lay back, legs spreading. He tugged the furs around and over, cuddling beneath them, tongue slowly exploring Wintras’ sac and shaft. Wintras’ hands slid along his face, into his hair. It was warm here and quiet, only the rustle of the furs and the beat of Wintras’ heart and his own breath.

Wintras shifted, pushing that long prick toward his mouth. He lapped at the tip, purring at the flavor, at the heat. Wintras moaned. “Oh, you do remember how to do this.”

He tilted his head, continuing to lick and touch. He remembered feeling this, tasting this. Wintras’ cock jerked and pushed up into his mouth again as Wintras’ hips bucked. He backed away a little, swallowing and gasping.

“Sorry,” muttered Wintras. “Felt good.”

“You taste good.”

“Then keep tasting.”

He chuckled, licking again, tongue dragging over the tip of Wintras’ cock. He was rewarded with a low groan. Oh. That was good. He licked and nuzzled, sucking softly. Wintras made another sound, the muscles in his thighs trembling, but not bucking. He stroked Wintras’ leg, fingers loving the warm skin. Those long fingers returned to his face, tracing his eyelids, his nose and cheeks. Humming, he took more and more in, sucking harder, wanting more touches, more flavor.

“Oh, Zujan…more. Please.” Yes. Yes, Wintras. He bobbed his head, sucking, moaning.

“I need to move, Zujan…” Wintras whimpered, legs shifting.

He nodded, fingers twining with Wintras’. Another whimper and Wintras started moving, hips pushing, slowly at first. It felt scary, but warmed him, made him suck harder, need more.

Faster and harder, Wintras took his mouth, pushing into him again and again. He held on to Wintras, anchored by their hands, by their heat.

“Oh!” Wintras cried out. The cock in his mouth throbbed, and seed poured down his throat. He swallowed, blinking hard, the excess sliding down his chin. Wintras relaxed back into the bed with a groan, fingers going lax in his hold. He burrowed under the furs, resting his cheek on Wintras’ thigh. Wintras’ hand wrapped around his arm and tugged. “Come here, pet.”

“Pet?” That word echoed inside him, distant and odd.

“It’s what you called me. What you called all your boys. I thought it would suit you.”

“Oh.” He chuckled, settled against Wintras, reaching down to tug the gold curls around the quiescent cock. “You’re fuzzier than me.”

“Have you ever shaved down there? You’d look beautiful totally naked.”

“Shaved? Why?” He looked at his snowy curls, the odd dark strand scattered through. “Were they all black, when you knew me?”

“They were. So was your hair. And shaved because,” Wintras’ hand slid around his prick, fingers carding through the curls. “It would be sexy.”

He buried his face against Wintras’ shoulder, hiding, snuggling.

Wintras chuckled. “I don’t know what to make of you, Zujan.”

He shrugged. The bar’cha took so much, gave so much. Once they fed from him completely, they took the parts they needed and left…him.

“Well, I suppose it will have to wait. The castle repairs need to begin today. I have to find a replacement for Lavan and see if there are any others who would like to follow in his footsteps.”

“I will stay here.” It wasn’t a question, this was where he belonged.

“No. You will stay by my side.”

“No.” They were out there, waiting for him, hungry for him, and he wasn’t strong enough.

“You are no longer in charge here, Zujan. I am. You will stay with me.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Wintras’ voice got hard.

“No.” The fire blazed in the hearth, his heart going chill.

“I won’t argue with you, Zujan. You are coming with me.” Wintras got up, glaring down at him.

He shook his head, refusing to back away. They would be starving, starving for him. Wintras grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the bed, heading for the door. He curled into himself, body sliding against the floor, legs drawn up under his chin. Sparks flew, all his heat escaping him. Wintras picked him up, tossing him over a shoulder and carried on.

The bar’cha swarmed, fastening onto every inch of bare skin, daring and hungry. Each touch made him ache, sent memories slamming through him.

“Get away from him!” Wintras shifted him back down so he was plastered against the long body, hand sliding along his back, dislodging the bar’cha.

“Take me back.” He looked up, eyes rolling. “Please, don’t let them have me…”

Wintras backed into his room again, the firefaeries screaming as Wintras took him beyond the invisible barrier that protected this room. He whimpered, shaking hard, frightened down deep within.

“Damnation! You should have told me why you didn’t want to go with me.” Wintras held him, back against the shut door, so warm against his skin.

The places where the bar’cha had touched were pale, blue, cold to the touch, and he pressed closer. “Sorry.”

“Do you still say your magic is worth this?” Wintras asked, hands slowly rubbing over his skin.

“Worth?” He shook his head. “I… They have always been here, always.”

“Horrible beasts. They need to be destroyed before they take you for good.”

“Destroyed? I don’t know how. No one knows how.” He pressed closer. “My mother created this room for me as her body burned, to keep me safe.”

“Oh. Painful.” Wintras tugged him closer. “It explains a lot of your attitude.”

“I…” He shrugged. “I can’t remember not having them.”

“I don’t like them. I don’t like them at all.” Wintras carried him over to the bed. “Will you be all right if I leave you?”

He curled up, nodded. “No one can harm me here.”

Wintras nodded. “Well, I suppose I don’t have to worry about you getting away from here either, do I?”

“I want to stay here. These are my rooms.”

“No, Zujan, they’re my rooms now, but I’ll let you stay.”

He looked over at Wintras. No. No, these rooms had his mother’s spirit soaked into the stones. If Wintras was here, it was only by her permission. “She lets you stay.”

“Who?”

He chuckled, closed his eyes. “The Lady Tralane.”

“The Lady Tralane?” Wintras’ eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard that name…”

Oh, it felt so good to be home, to be warm, to be safe. Cosseted.

“Who is she?” Wintras demanded.

“A great sorceress. Magical and beautiful.”

“Well, I don’t see her now, so I don’t see how she has anything to do with my staying.” Wintras did look a little disconcerted though.

“I can’t see her either.” He smiled, breathing deep, breathing in his mother’s perfume.

“You’re insane,” murmured Wintras. “The firefaeries truly took your mind.”

He lifted his head, blinking. “No. No, they took what they’d made of me; they took the thing they made. I have my mind. Not them. Not you. Me.”

Wintras snorted. “You certainly don’t sound like you have your mind, Zujan.”

Well then, he would stop sounding like anything at all. No one said he had to speak. No one at all. He would rest and read and plan, wait. Wintras watched him for a moment; he could feel those midnight eyes on him. Then the man snorted and left, the sound of the door closing over the angry buzz of the bar’cha a relief.

He scooted over, locked and bolted the door then went to find a hidden stash of dried fruits and olives and wine that he had kept here.

* * * *

Having to fight his way through the angry buzz of firefaeries at the door to his quarters did not help Wintras’ humor in the least. Truth be told, he was feeling childish and petulant enough that he happily spent an extra few moments swatting at them, pleased to see them dissolve into sparks and ash at his touch. Beastly, nasty things. And considering how Zujan behaved when not under their influence, they deserved each and every pejorative he could find for them.