Not fulfilled whatever destiny Dmitri hinted at.
The truth registered. Peter’s father had hidden him on a pirate ship, keeping him from stressful situations like raids and fighting to avoid his accidental use of magic.
Like Martin’s parents had attempted to hide him. He’d love to remove both pendants and feel their power combine.
The lovers. The card didn’t mean they would become lovers, but that they were already. Two lovers. Reunited. They came together in a flurry of mouths and hands, breath mingling.
The buttons at first defied Martin’s fingers, their trembling rendering them nearly useless. At last, he removed his shirt.
The coarseness of Peter’s fingers should have irritated Martin’s skin, but instead, they shot fire straight to parts of him long immune to the allure of others. His skin burned, craving each touch—yet every touch left him longing for more.
Though Peter’s caresses were tentative, the bulge in his trousers said he desired too.
For a moment, Martin clearly imagined the card: the novice. A man likely unskilled in the joys of the flesh. A man who desired men, living in a community where such was unaccepted, likely avoided the risks of following through on his passions.
Had what little they’d done aboard theSeabirdbeen Peter’s only experience with another man? Or was it Martin alone who caused Peter’s nervousness?
No time like the present to discover the man’s secrets.
A secret for a secret.
Martin sank to the floor, employing grace acquired from hours spent learning dance and fighting moves. Peter gasped, jerking back. Martin gripped slender hips, pressing his face against the hard column of flesh straining inside the confines of Peter’s trousers. Long, slender, but substantial, in perfect proportion to the rest of Peter’s body. The masculine scent of him swelled Martin’s cock further. What an enticing smell. He breathed deeply.
Unlacing the ties on Peter’s trousers, Martin buried his face in rough curls.
Peter stiffened above him. “We mustn’t!” he hissed.
Martin drew back, sorrowfully leaving the wondrous part of Peter he hoped to get better acquainted with. “Why mustn’t we?”
“The… the Father forbids it.”
“Yet you don’t follow the faith.”
“I do not.” Peter deflated.
“You’ve not done this before?”
“Yes, but with… well…”
“Street workers?”
Peter paused a moment before nodding. “And sailors. Here for only a few hours.”
”Is it perhaps that you do not want this with me?” Martin traced his lips over Peter’s hip, pressing kisses to trembling thighs. Peter’s hardness naysaid Martin’s question, but the shy ones needed room to make up their own minds.
Peter? Shy? Where was the fearless pirate lad Martin remembered so fondly?
Hiding in plain sight. Keeping his head down. Not drawing undue attention.
If Peter changed his mind, all for the better, as Martin lacked the power of will to walk away.
“I do… I mean.”
“That’s all either of us needs to know.” Martin opened his mouth, taking Peter deeply, ending any hope of returning to his life unchanged.
When he pulled away, Peter murmured low, “If we do this, I won’t be able to let you go.”
For a moment, panic threatened, then vanished. Petran. Peter. One and the same. And somehow, Martin had been blocked from seeing the truth until now. Here. All alone. No, he’d not be able to let go either.
