Page 24 of The Cordial Bride

Ian practically choked on his spit. “You are a menace, darling. Allow this old man to regain his strength.” When Calan snorted at that remark, Ian grinned. “I’m thirsty. How about you?” He sauntered over to the small table that was once again filled with small bites of food and a decanter of a dark liquid. He picked it up. “What’s this?”

“Brandywine. Mistress Emelda makes it in small batches. How kind of her to provide us with some.”

“Ah. I happen to like the version made in Moorcondia.” Unstopping the decanter, he sniffed the liquid before pouring a glass. “Do you want some?”

“No, thanks. It’s too strong for my tastes. I’m not thirsty anyway…unless you count my craving for your cum.”

In the midst of sipping the brandywine, Ian spit some of it out. He whipped his head around. “You little beast! Remind me not to eat or drink anything without gagging you first.” He put the glass down, the warmth of the drink seeping into his belly. He took only a moment to wipe his dick clean from the remnants of the fucking. He wanted Calan to always enjoy the taste of him.

Keeping his gaze on his wife, he all but leaped onto the bed to straddle the boy. He trapped Calan’s arms to his side, using his legs to hold him in place. “Open up, greedy boy.” Calan stared at him without flinching as he opened his mouth wide.

It took effort for Ian to stay in control as he fed his dick into that welcoming warmth. He didn’t stop until he bumped the opening to Calan’s throat, making the boy gag. Although the urge to keep going was strong, rational thought prevailed. He pulled back to give Calan a chance to breathe, then thrust his dick to the back of Calan’s mouth again. It went a little deeper this time, and he’d have to be content with that. His wife’s lips were spread wide around his shaft, stretched obscenely. Calan’s eyes watered and yet he tried to keep them open. That proved impossible once Ian started face-fucking him in earnest. In and out, he drilled with his dick, grabbing the headboard for leverage. Calan was present as always, not simply taking it, but laving Ian’s cock with his tongue and sucking, even as Ian forced the shaft farther down his throat.

With a roar, Ian came again, flooding that small mouth with so much cum, one would have thought he hadn’t orgasmed in months. He forced his eyes back open to watch how his cum dribbled past Calan’s lips. As he pulled his dick out, he sat flush against Calan’s groin and rocked. The boy’s cock swelled against his ass and released itself. Once again, they lay entangled in each other’s arms, spent.

* * * *

Calan quietly put a topped-up glass of brandywine and a slice of the bread he’d baked, slathered with butter and honey on the table by the bed. He liked the idea of leaving his husband a small meal that he’d had a hand in making. It was a more intimate form of caretaking than he was used to as a healer and a small way of supporting a powerful man. Ian had everything at his fingertips. There would be little for Calan to do once they returned to Charteris that wasn’t already being done by someone else. Right here and now, he had the opportunity to pamper his man in private.

As Calan turned away from the bed, Ian shot his hand out and grabbed him by the arm. “Where are you going, darling?”

Calan smiled at the sleepy question. “I want to go back to my workshop and gather some more things to take with me. I was a bit rushed before and perhaps muddle-headed from our…you know, time in the forest.” He blushed at the thought of all the ways he and Ian had made love. He wondered whether he would ever become sanguine to such matters.

Ian squeezed once before letting go. “Hurry back, wife.”

A warmth of arousal spread through his groin. “Yes, husband. There’s food and drink here if you want.” He slipped out of the room and headed outside.

He half-expected one of the constant guards to stop him from leaving. Instead, one of them stepped to his side and walked with him.

Calan stopped. “Oh, that’s not necessary. I mean I’m fine on my own.”

“Your pardon, Countess, but the count has given very explicit orders. You are to have at least one guard accompany you at all times—for your safety, of course,” the man added with a shallow bow.

“I see.” He supposed he would have to get used to the idea that he was no longer simply a boy helping his aunt. He was of the Moorcondian nobility, and they apparently were used to being surrounded by protectors and servants wherever they went. “Thank you.”

In the early dawn of the day, there weren’t many people around. That served Calan’s mood. He wanted a quiet moment to say his good-byes to his homeland, and it proved easy to ignore the presence of the soldier in his wake. If he thought too much of how he was about to leave the only place he’d ever known, he might cry. That wouldn’t do. He was happy—deliriously so—and didn’t want anyone to misinterpret his mood. Far from being a sacrifice to his people’s needs, he felt blessed to be married to a man who treated him with such care and brought him to a level of pleasure that he couldn’t have dreamed of. It was hard to leave Shadow Valley, but exciting, too. He had no doubt his new life would be filled with adventure simply because it was new.

As he slipped into the workshop, he made a mental list of what he wanted. Ian had said there was plenty of room for Calan to take whatever he desired. Still, Calan had prioritized his personal belongings and now having seen the size of the storage carriage, felt confident that there was room for a couple more baskets worth of dried flora and pastes. He would only be taking his own stock, nothing of his aunts, so he pushed away any guilt over what he intended.

He pulled up short when he saw that Celia was already in there. “I-I’m sorry, Aunt. I hadn’t realized you’d be here.” She was an early riser, yet typically went foraging first thing if she wasn’t visiting the sick.

Celia looked over her shoulder and continued to pound something in her mortar. “What are you doing here? I would have thought the count holds you on a short leash to keep you handy to slake his lust, not that I expect you to want to stray too far from his bed.” Her words were spoken matter-of-factly and yet there was an obvious undertone of disapproval if not disgust.

“I’m not a prisoner, Aunt.” He strove for patience, understanding that his leaving was hard on her.

“Really? Tell that to the man looming behind you. I’ll wager the count won’t let you go anywhere by yourself now.”

“That’s probably true, but only because he’s worried about my safety. This marriage will be a successful one on a personal level, I believe, as well as benefiting our people. I’m happy,” he added, not sure if that made a difference to the woman. Probably not.

Aunt Celia turned with her fists planted on her hips. The look she gave him was terrible. “No doubt, being in the man’s bed pleases you very much. As for what’s best for our country? Don’t take me for a fool. Once Moorcondia has you under your husband’s thumb in their territory, you will have to give them everything they want. They’ll pry the formula out of your head no matter what you decide, and you’ll be good for nothing more than to warm the count’s bed. The treaty will be useless. And anything new you create will belong to them and them alone. Shadow Valley will never benefit from your healing gifts again.”

Calan frowned. “No, that’s not true! The Moorcondians are honorable people. Ian married me to make the treaty stronger, not to subvert it. And I would never betray my country like that. While it’s true that I will always explore and experiment to find new medicinals, Ian says the treaty requires Moorcondia to share them with others. You must know that, given how you were there when it was drafted. I’ll make sure the terms are complied with.”

“If you believe that you have any choice or control over your life, now, you are naïve to a dangerous degree. I won’t be there to help you when you find out that your husband owns you and can do as he likes, regardless of what you want.”

She turned her back to him again and leaned on the table, muttering under her breath. “There is no hope for it. It had to be done. You must be protected for your own sake as well as for the rest of us. In time, you will see that this is all for your protection as much as anyone else’s. You belong in Shadow Valley.”

Unease shot through him. He took a step closer to Celia. “What are you saying? What do you mean? Ian and I are leaving this morning. I’m going to Moorcondia.”

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