Page 31 of King's Warrior

“Of course I do.” It was time to put thoughts into action and show this man how much Niam cared. He rose from the floor, gently tugging Rufe's hand until he, too, stood, though he placed most of his weight on his good leg.

Niam framed Rufe’s dear face with his hands, melding their mouths together. Rufe let out a moan.

Niam led him toward the bed, allowing Rufe plenty of time to stop if he felt the need. He didn’t stop.

The dressing gown came off far easier than Niam’s clothes until Rufe stood by the bed in all his scarred, beautiful glory, his stiffening cock ensuring Niam that he wasn’t pushing too far too fast.

He took in Rufe, from his tousled black curls to the long toes currently digging into the rug, every inch of him gorgeous. Niam placed his hand on his lover’s scarred chest. “Lie down. Let me take care of you.” He half expected an argument, but Rufe settled on his back on the bed, lodging his uninjured arm under his head and watching Niam with a raised brow.

Niam unlaced his tunic and let it fall to the floor. He removed his boots, trousers, and undergarments to stand before Rufe naked. Showing his body always made Niam self-conscious, exposing his pale skin marred with freckles.

“Come here,” Rufe beckoned, voice husky. The admiration in his eyes revealed his appreciation for what he saw, easing Niam’s fears. Rufe held out a hand.

Niam accepted the offered hand and kissed the palm again before climbing onto the bed, careful not to jostle Rufe’s bandaged arm, leg, or foot. He straddled Rufe’s body, pausing to take a good look at the man. Balancing his weight on his arms and legs, he bent to take Rufe’s sweet mouth, moaning when Rufe opened for him and stroked Niam’s tongue with his own. Slow, sweet, unhurried. This man was made to be worshipped.

Niam ran his open mouth over Rufe’s jaw, down his neck, and back up to nip an earlobe. Rufe’s curls tickled Niam’s skin. Niam trailed kisses downward to bury his nose in the mat of hair on Rufe’s chest, running his tongue over a particularly vicious scar and gently taking a nipple between his teeth.

Rufe sucked in a breath, muscles tensing. Oh, someone liked that. Niam repeated the attention on the other nipple. He skated his hands down Rufe’s belly, marveling at the firmness beneath his questing fingers. Solid. Dependable. Loyal.

Exactly the kind of man Niam wanted in his life and in his bed. He ran his fingers over Rufe’s powerful thighs, raising chills.

Rufe’s cock strained against his belly, a clear drop of fluid clinging to the tip. Niam licked it away, startling a gasp from Rufe.

Niam rolled his gaze upward, winked at Rufe, then settled between his thighs, making sure not to bump his injured leg. He lifted Rufe’s cock, rubbing the swollen length against his lips. Rufe stiffened, throwing his head back onto the pillow, digging his fingers into the bedcovers.

The man's enticing scent caused Niam’s mouth to water. He took the bulbous head between his lips, running his tongue over the smooth skin. Rufe’s moans provided a map of the places he wanted attention, the suction, and the speed—the depth.

Niam rolled Rufe’s balls in his fingers while worshipping that beautiful, long, thick cock with lips and tongue.

Rufe rasped out, “Keep that up, and this will be over too soon.”

As much as Niam wanted to taste Rufe’s spend, he had other ideas and reluctantly pulled off, rising onto his knees, straddling Rufe and lining up the tip of Rufe’s cock with Niam’s hole.

“Wait! You’ll hurt yourself,” Rufe protested.

Niam grinned. “No, I won’t.” He slowly lowered himself, enjoying the burn as Rufe’s length opened him, slowly sliding into him, connecting them. He hissed between his teeth, but not with pain—with sheer pleasure.

“I don’t know if I should be grateful that you prepared yourself in advance or hurt that you’d planned how to best break the news that I wouldn’t be going. Ohhh!” Rufe released a long moan, gripping Niam’s hips. “Grateful. Definitely grateful.”

Exactly the reaction Niam hoped for while slicking and stretching himself before entering the room. He rode Rufe, memorizing the intense concentration on his face, the way his muscles flexed beneath Niam’s fingertips, and how Rufe filled Niam so perfectly.

Niam set a slow pace, resting his weight on his arms to seal their mouths together, then straightening, placing both hands on Rufe’s chest for a more energetic rhythm. Rufe thrust up, meeting Niam’s plunges, rocking together in time.

Their heavy breathing, moans, and groans harmonized with squeaking bed ropes and the crackling fire in the hearth. Niam panted, “I’m close.”

Rufe’s fingers tightened on Niam’s skin, and he threw back his head, releasing a growl. All his muscles stood out in stark relief as he cried out, bucking into Niam as he came.

Niam grabbed his own cock, desperately pumping. So close. So very close.

Rufe’s eyes popped open, and the sheer emotion in their dark depths sent Niam over the edge.

They held each other as they settled back into themselves, the steady rhythm of Rufe’s heart throbbing against Niam’s ear as he laid his head on Rufe’s broad chest. Soon, Rufe’s breathing evened.

Like a coward, Niam took advantage, dressed, and slipped out the door. Rufe’s words rang out in Niam’s mind:I cannot love you, nor you me.

He was so, so wrong.

Chapter Twelve

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