“Yes.”Cai didn’t know howthis creature had come to be waiting beneath him—this barely tamedman, not a bit of his wildness abated, letting him decide.It feltlike embracing a storm.“This time, you show me.Fuckme.”
Fen’s pupils widened.He took Cai infor a long moment more, as if assessing him—for strength,intention, what his flesh, bone and muscle would withstand.Then hepushed up, rolling him powerfully down onto his back.“I want youstripped,” he growled.“I want to see every inch of you.Now.”
Now the cassock fabric was unbearable,a hot, tight skin.Cai sat up far enough for Fen to start rippingit off him, and they fought over girdle, sleeves, the tussle ofgetting the thing off over his head.Immediately Cai seized Fen’srobe to return the favour, but Fen stopped him, hand locking hardround his wrist.“In a second.Gods, Caius—let me look atyou.”
Cai propped himself on his arms.Hebore the inspection as best he could, although blood seemed to riseand burn beneath his skin wherever Fen’s gaze focussed.He wishedhe could see himself through those firelight eyes, see whatever itwas that was making sweat sheen on Fen’s brow, in the hollow of histhroat.All he knew of himself was that he was ordinary—hairrumpled, bits of hay caught in it, his body just the stocky, toughframework that had carried him about his business for so long in adifficult world.He was scarred.The hair that marked his chest anda midline down his stomach was black and wiry, an inheritance fromBroc.But Fen was running his fingers over the old injuries, thatdark line.His face was rapt.
Cai shivered.“You’ve seen it before,you know.”
“Yes.Down at the rockpools, when you decided to wash me.But I was sick then.I couldn’tappreciate it all.”
“It’s not so much.Just ahill farmer.”
“You have noidea.”
Cai released a groan.He tipped backhis head and shut his eyes.Fen continued a fingertip caress downacross Cai’s navel.He bypassed Cai’s shaft with a brush of hisknuckles.Cai gasped in frustration, but Fen reached deeper,closing a short-lived grasp on his balls, then pushing up betweenhis buttocks, one finger finding target.
“God!”Cai managed, with anemphasis that startled them both.“Yes.There.”
“Very tight.Not yourfirst, am I?”
“No, but it’s been a longtime.”He writhed, trying to find the beautiful touch again.“Iknow it’ll hurt,” he added stoically, to prove that he wasn’tafraid.“I won’t mind it.Go on.”
“I won’t hurtyou.”
“How can you not?It’s notlike with a woman.And Benedict’s cell was next to mine.Oslafsometimes sounded as if he was dying.”
Fen quirked a smile.He leanedforwards and kissed Cai’s throat, then the sides of his neck, allthe while rubbing at the entrance to his body, until Cai thoughthis heart would tear out through his ribs.“You don’t thinkBenedict and Oslaf found ways to ease such…dreadfulsuffering?”
“I don’t know.I neverthought about it.I…”
“Be quiet.Here, myunimaginative doctor.Look.”
Fen let go of him long enough to reachinto his cassock’s side pouch.He withdrew a glimmering bottle Caiinstantly recognised.“That’s the wheat oil and rosehip I getHengist to make up for me for winter, to cure coughs and chestailments.It lubricates… Oh.”
Fen made a valiant effort not to laughat him.His hair had grown back, long enough for a bright bronzecurtain to shield his face as he turned aside, uncapping thebottle.“I took the liberty of stopping by your supply cabinets onmy way out here.And I made no assumptions, before you get yourback up, you stiff-necked Celt.But the moon was full—the night sowarm—and I knew you were out here alone.”
He was pouring the oil into one palm.Cai’s protest about the raid on his supplies died unspoken.Thenext time the touch came at his body’s entrance, it was warm andslick and he had no resistance to it, the tight ring of muscleconvulsing but not rejecting the inward slide.The first pang ofbroaching over, the push was delicious, as if Fen were reaching forsome stray fragment of heaven—the golden fruit that had suddenlygrown deep in Cai’s guts, perhaps, pulsating just in front of Fen’sreaching fingers.“There.Ah, there!”
“Yes.I know aboutthere.”
Cai gave a sobbing chuckle.“Notyourfirst, either, then.”
“No.Many fine brotherwarriors.None of them anything like you.”
“And your people don’t mindit?”
“No.Not any more thanyours do, outside of mad enclaves like this.It’s expected, amongmen who travel without women, although…” He leaned forwards andkissed Cai, lingeringly, tongue shoving deep in time with hisfingers.“Although Sigurd was fretting that I’d never get himheirs.”
It was the first time he had said hislord’s name without bitterness, and Cai, although he could barelyspeak, tried to attend him.“Your brother, though—”
“Ah, yes.Gunnar has doneit for both of us, time and time over, the women willing or not.But men fall fast among the Torleik, and Sigurd likes a broodgrowing up around him, of good blood and ready to replace us.Now—before you die of this, my beautiful monk—kneel for me.Up onyour hands and knees.Now.”
Cai couldn’t have done it exceptat those soft-voiced commands.His limbs had turned to water,desire washing strength out of him.He grunted in protest as Fenwithdrew his fingers.The emptiness inside was unbearable, his cockso stiff against his belly that one touch would have finished him.Fen was sitting back, stripping off his cassock, and Cai closed hiseyes to that in case it had the same effect.Awkwardly he scrambledonto his knees.Hewoulddie if Fen kept him waiting, die of shame at being soready, laid so open.
“Fen,” he rasped, a dreamcoming back to him—the dream of the wolf from the sea.“Fen, forGod’s sake, fuck me now.”
The wolf had turned into a man.Thisman, whose advent had been written into Cai’s dreams, his veryblood, before he’d ever seen him.Crying out, Cai lowered his browto his wrists, his hands clenching and unclenching in the hay.Thewait ended instantly.Fen’s thighs pressed to his.The oil’s warmmusk filled his nostrils, and he knew without looking that Fen wasrubbing his shaft with it.Fen’s hands closed on his hips, holdinghim still.
