AllFreeNovel
Share Us
At Enzo’s urging he finally ate—pastissada de caval, as promised, and delivered whilst he slept from he knew not where. Perhaps the kitchens of Enzo’s own noble house. It arrived in a stoneware crock carried in a black hamper. Enzo himself fed it to Fiore, placing the spoon—silver, emblazoned with a dragon crest—into Fiore’s hand and enfolding his own fingers over Fiore’s fist to guide the stew between his lips. The rich and savory meat fell apart on his tongue. Though he managed but half the portion Enzo had dished out for him, its warmth suffused and soothed his aching stomach. And it remained there, to his equal astonishment and relief.
As sunset settled over the city, Enzo supplied him with another dose of anodyne. Then he left Fiore’s side and began spreading his cloak out on the floorboards.
“What’re you doing?” Fiore asked.
Enzo gave him a blank look. “Going to sleep.”
Fiore stared at him. “Not there, surely.”
Enzo hesitated. “Would you prefer I go?”
“No,” Fiore managed to say without hinting at the fear that had seized his heart at the suggestion of Enzo leaving his side. “I want you here.”
And he patted the mattress beside him, lest there remain any doubt.
Too late, as a silence stretched out between them, Fiore realized that perhaps Enzo didn’t wish to share a bed with an invalid courtesan who’d serviced uncounted men before on that very same mattress.
But then that same soft smile of good fortune and disbelief stole across Enzo’s handsome features once more. He swept up his cloak and laid it over Fiore’s chair for safe-keeping. Then he stripped himself of waistcoat, breeches, drawers, and hose, leaving just his shirt to cover him, which meant the elegant form of his legs from mid-thigh on down remained bare for Fiore’s appreciation.
Better still, he slipped into the bed beside Fiore.
To fit his long lean frame into the curved hull of the boat required Enzo to curl his body around Fiore’s smaller form—much to Fiore’s delight. Fiore insinuated himself nearer still, his head settling into the crook of Enzo’s collar as if they were molded for each other. He stared up at Enzo’s face, revealed to him at last. The noble profile, the bristled jaw, the perfect lips, scars and all.
The gaze Enzo cast down at him in turn appeared to echo some of his own admiration, though with an air of confusion, which eventually found its way out in speech. “What are you looking at?”
Fiore reached up to trace one of the knife-sharp cheekbones with his thumb. He felt as much as heard Enzo’s suppressed gasp at this once-forbidden touch. “You.”
A shy smile Fiore had ever-loved to glimpse in those dark eyes now touched the perfect lips as well. “What for?”
“You’ve hidden from me for so long,” Fiore replied. “I’ve a great deal of looking to make up for.”
Enzo had an exceedingly handsome blush. “You’ll weary of it soon enough.”
“Never,” Fiore declared and kissed him to seal his promise.
Enzo returned the kiss with the same tentative hunger that bespoke eons of repressed desires. Fiore felt his own hunger might never be sated. Still, he endeavored to devour Enzo nonetheless.
But anodyne and exhaustion alike conspired to drag them apart. The fading light robbed Enzo’s beautiful face from his sight, as if the night itself wished to mask him again. Even so, Fiore remained reluctant to close his eyes. The faint hint of Enzo’s striking profile silhouetted by silvery moonlight served to feed and tantalize him all at once.
And it was Enzo’s gentle caress that, eventually, soothed him down into true sleep.
~
With the removal of his mask, Enzo’s heart seemed to take flight. His pulse had pounded in his ears as he untied the knot securing it to his skull. Mounting anxiety made his fingertips tremble as he lifted the molded leather from his face. What Fiore would make of what lay beneath, he knew not.
But as the mask fell away altogether, he beheld neither disappointment nor derision in Fiore’s gaze. Rather, a wondrous delight stole over his beautiful features and lit up those enormous dark eyes.
Terror and relief had entangled together in Enzo’s chest to form breathtaking exhilaration. He could hardly breathe.
And then Fiore had reached for him.
It was the first time anyone besides himself had touched—much less caressed—his face since university. Astonishment held him still as Fiore’s gentle palm alighted on his jaw. A shiver ran through him as Fiore’s thumb stroked his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut. Without thinking, he leaned into the caress. On instinct alone he turned to press his lips to Fiore’s inner wrist. The skin there felt as soft and tender as his own heart brimming over with everything he’d withheld throughout their acquaintance. The warmth of it shocked him—he’d forgotten how warm a man’s flesh could feel against his lips, even as he’d lost himself in the heat of Fiore’s throat, after so long spent satisfying himself with the touch of mere hands. Fiore’s pulse fluttered against his mouth whilst his own heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Then Fiore had drawn him down, so near that their breath mingled, only to close his eyes and wait.
And—somehow—Enzo found courage enough to kiss him.
Enzo had yearned to kiss him from the very moment of their first meeting. To have those soft lips pressed against his own at last exceeded all expectation. To his further surprise, Fiore seemed almost as starved as himself. And as hungry as his kisses were, the looks he cast over Enzo’s features in between them proved hungrier still.
