“Yes, yes…” He groaned as my lips moved above his waistband, kissing across his taut muscles, teasing lower with each pass. I could feel his hardness through his half open fly, inches from mouth. I pulled his pants fully away and continued my journey, kissing his sides, his hips, his inner thighs as his breath got deep and his gasps came more often. I could feel his arousal grow as my beard raked his flesh, making him wriggle like a fresh caught fish, twisting here and there as if to escape me but both knowing better. When my tongue lapped at his tight balls I thought he might be done there and then the way he cried out, and when his hands reached for his dick I pulled away and took his wrists, giving him a look.
“I can’t trust you to touch yourself just yet.” Frustration ran across his face but was chased off by his need, and he nodded. I let go of his wrists and he put his hands at his sides, grabbing at the blankets as I went at him again, taking him right to that edge and looking over it with him, feeling the dizzying thrill of being on the brink of falling. I danced with him on that ledge, my hands and mouth on his body, knowing every move and touch to make as if by instinct, and the more we danced the closer we got.
“Please…” Brook whispered, and the look of lust and longing he gave me made my heart thump. I knew I held him then, as surely and as lightly as I had first held him. He lay in my palm like a pebble, in my pocket like a pup, and I cherished him. I grabbed his cock as I looked into his eyes, my hand wrapping him in my warmth and strength, and as gentle as the lake breeze I stroked him. His dark eyes rolled white and his head fell back, mouth agape, and his hips began to follow my pace as I slowly led him back to that edge.
“I’m gonna make you come now, Brook.” I told him. He was so close all it would take was a breath, his hands were holding tight to the blanket, heels digging at the bed as if he was slipping, and when I put my lips on the head of his dick he leapt and I caught him. His senses were still dazzled by the force of it so that he was surprised when I kissed his lips, sharing his bliss.
“You taste good, don’t you?” I said between kisses and he replied by sending his tongue seeking for more. We lay like that a long time, exploring this magical intimacy we were fated with, no longer questioning its reason, only living the fact of it. It felt like our fortress, a place that only we two could go, and I longed to spend forever there with him.
I don’t know when we fell asleep. It was becoming harder to tell dreams and memories from what was real when I was close to him. My eyes blinked open to the creased and kindly face of a stooped, old man, his boney fingers gently shaking me awake.
“It’s time, your highness. He is here.” His voice was old paper. Dread filled me, but duty filled me too. This was something that must be done. I rose. The old man beckoned me on and I followed, through a dark passage to another chamber, much larger than the first. In the center was a large, stone brazier, and just inside the arched doorway stood the dark sentinel with its ember eyes. The chamber hummed with power, with expectation, as if it too had a mind and a motive, and seemed to watch me approach the fire as the old man led me on.
“Now kneel, highness.” And I did. His fingers clasped my temples and I felt him step into my thoughts. “Quickly now, just a little further.” I followed him deeper into my mind, and we raced past fragments of memory, too fast make out. Down we went until we came to room that felt familiar, I knew the pattern of the rug and the scenes in the wall hangings as I knew my own hands, and I felt safe there.
“Stay here and wait for me.” The old man told me, worry showing through his consoling look. He took my hand in his, his skin was like the softest leather. “Trust me, highness.”
He turned away, as if hearing something far off, and he seemed to shrink for a moment.
“I must go now.” He told me, turning back to me once with sad eyes as he closed the door. I sat in silence. Then I heard a noise. A knock on the door.
My eyes blinked open to the dark of the room above the bar. I heard a noise. A knock on the door. Shaking my head I sat up, and another knock confirmed that I had not dreamt the other. I chambered out of bed and saw that Brook was still asleep. A third knock.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I whispered, but loud. I found the handle and opened the door a crack, revealing George, his face dark with concern.
“Let me in, Jack. There’s trouble.” My heckles rose. George was not the sort to quail easily, so I quickly opened the door and beckoned him in. He had brought a lamp which saved me lighting one and set it on the table.
“What is it, George?” I asked him. I saw that Brook had woke and was sat up looking on, confusion and shock on his face.
“Men are here. Armed men. Strangers.” George looked over at Brook as he said this last. “They been asking after someone. A lad, your age and looks from what they tell.”
Fear stabbed at me and my senses took on a keenness. I grabbed George by the shoulder. “How many?”
“Three.” George said. “Two look like common bandits, hired swords I’ll wager. The third is some kind of priest out of the north, he seems to lead them.” He shook. “There’s something uncanny about him, I don’t mind saying.”
“Do they know we are here?” My mind was racing now.
“Not from me, and none of the locals will talk to them, but they must know something else they wouldn’t be asking.” He replied, and I knew he must be right. Part of me wanted to storm downstairs with my fists flying, but I knew the odds would be against me, and I didn’t like the sound of this priest.
“George. Go back and do what you can to keep them in the bar.” The innkeep nodded.
“There’s more.” He said. “They also asked about the hermit. Seems whoever tipped them off might have heard you talking about going to see him.” My heart dropped and I brimmed with anger at myself for having put the man in danger. Luckily few enough even of those who live in the village knew where the hermit’s house was, not precisely anyway. He got few enough visitors.
“Then that is where we will have to go. Brook,” I turned to him. “Ready yourself to leave. If we slip out now we can be at Asprey’s well ahead of anyone who might try to follow.” He immediately began reaching for his clothes and pulled them on.
“And after that?” Brook asked. He sounded scared as I felt. I couldn’t show him that, though.
“One thing at a time. We have to get away and make sure Asprey is safe. We can plan from there.” Decided, I began gathering our gear together. Luckily we hadn’t even opened our packs since arriving the day before, so within minutes we were ready.
“Leave through the kitchen.” George told me. “I’ll keep them busy for as long as I can. I’m sure those swords won’t say no to a jar on the house.” His old eyes twinkled with mischief, and I felt a little of the guilt I felt at bringing trouble here lift.
“Do what you can.” I implored him, and Brook and I quietly followed him from the room and down the stairs. We parted at the door to the kitchen.