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When Caelan did so, Lachland pushed his legs open. “Hold yerself like this.” He guided Caelan to hook his arms around his knees, thighs parted.
He watched enraptured as Lachland oiled his thickness. The cock glistening in the lamplight.
Then he met his gaze as the thick head prodded at his entrance. “Have ye ever been taken like this?” Lachland asked.
Caelan shook his head. “No.”
Lachland pushed in slowly, this time allowing for Caelan to relax at the intrusion. The thickness of the man’s cock stretching him to his limits. It was a wonderful pain being stretched so wide.
“Ahhh,” Caelan moaned as the head of Lachland’s cock hit a special place inside that sent his eyes to roll back. “Ohhh,” he exclaimed when he hit the precise place again and again until Caelan could not keep from crying out.
To quiet him, Lachland kissed him, driving his tongue deep into Caelan’s throat swallowing his cries of passion. The primal act all he needed to come a second time.
Lachland moaned into his mouth, the warrior’s solid body shuddering as he came with so much force it spilled out and between his bottom cheeks. The warrior collapsed on him, the weight of him perfect.
For a long moment, they held each other. Both were struck speechless, unable to utter words, or to breath evenly. There was so much tumbling around them. Questions, sensations, rawness and more than anything, a sense they’d never forget this moment.
It was moments later, that Lachland rolled from him and both lay side to side, shoulders touching.
Caelan turned to study Lachland. Thick curls wet from perspiration framed his handsome face and arm up over his head, he was the picture of perfection.
“I cannot promise ye anything,” Lachland said, not looking at him. “I do not wish for any...”
There it was the rejection he’d been dreading. He interrupted quickly. “I expect nothing from ye.”
It was the truth. Although his hoped Lachland would feel as strongly, it was obvious all he wanted was what happened in the moment.
“I leave tomorrow,” Caelan said before rolling to face the wall. “Stay and sleep if ye wish.”
Sometime during the night Lachland left.
Chapter Five
It was interesting to Caelan how quickly life went back to normal. Although in the first days since returning from Taernsby he’d often thought about the night with Lachland, he’d somehow managed to push it farther from his mind. Now two months later, he was glad to have experienced something so pleasurable. One day he’d be with a man again and he accepted it would not be Lachland.
On patrol, it was a blustery day, and he was glad for the wind on his face. It smelled of nature and freshness.
Brock motioned toward a gathering of trees. “Someone is there, perhaps more than one. They hide.”
Pulling their steeds to a slower pace, they went toward the grouping of trees.
“Who is there!” Brock called out.
Instantly men raced away on horseback. They were no match for the archer’s huge war horses and soon they were able to catch them and pull them from their mounts.
“What were ye doing back there?” Brock screamed at the one he held by the scruff of his tunic.
The other man sat on the ground looking defeated. “We did nae mean to hurt her.”
Instantly Caelan tied the man on the ground up and jumped to his horse heading back to where they’d spotted the men.
On the ground was a woman, her clothes had been torn and she was curled into a ball, seeming to be lifeless. He jumped from his horse and hurried to her.
Her eyes were expressionless, staring past him to the sky. “I want to die.” Her voice was faint, but he heard her despair loudly.
“Ye will nae die.” Caelan wrapped her in his tartan and lifted her to his horse. With the woman in his arms, he raced to the camp.
Thankfully other warriors saw him, and they went to go help Brock, while he continued to the guard house. The entire time, the woman was still, her head bent.
