Chapter Seventeen
Shutting the door with my heel and flicking the lock, I carried my boy back to the bed and sat him carefully on the edge of it. He tried to pull me down on top of him but I ignored the light tugs on my arm and the way the shirt began to tent between his legs as he used his entire strength against me without result. Part of being his daddy was taking care of him, and I wasn’t going to indulge in as much as a kiss until I’d checked every inch of his perfect skin and ensured it remained unmarked.
“I’m fine,” Wyatt assured me, seductively parting his legs and dragging my shirt up to offer delectable hints at what lay beneath. I eyed him with amusement. Having apparently given up on dragging me to bed, he was now trying to coerce me into it, and it was damn near working.
“That’s for me to decide,” I told him, lowering my head and nuzzling along that exposed section of pale thigh until he was gasping out pleas and rubbing his hips shamelessly against me. “Dios, little one, you could have beenkilled.”
“Good thing you were here, then.”
“I don’t want to be your guard, Wyatt,” I said, and then faltered, realising how that might have sounded. “I’ll always protect you, of course, but I…”
Time to fucking say it, Jiron. Don’t let this beautiful man slip away because you’re too much of a coward to let someone in.
I cleared my throat. “I want to be something more.”
“You are,” he said simply, reaching out his hands. This time I let him pull me closer. “Jiron, I don’t need a guard-”
I raised an eyebrow and gave a pointed glance in the direction of the door.
“Well, maybe sometimes,” Wyatt corrected, beaming. “It isveryhot to see you in action, and it means I won’t have to spy on your training sessions anymore.”
I liked to think I was too professional and composed to splutter, but it was a near thing. “Boy,what?”
“You heard me,” he said, fluttering his eyelashes likely because he knew how much it distracted me. This time was no exception. He stared up at me, lust and fondness flitting across his face and mirroring my own emotions. “But I wantyou,” he continued, squeezing my forearms. “All of you, Jiron. The man, the friend, the guard, the lover. All of you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t wantallof me. Not the dark, fucked-up-”
“Daddy,” Wyatt said sternly, contorting his adorable features into an uncharacteristic seriousness that he seemingly couldn’t hold for long, for it soon cracked back into his usual vivacious grin. “I want everything. I may not be very good at fighting or dealing with blood or carrying heavy things, but I’mexcellentat being here for you while you work through it.”
And he really was. Just being around Wyatt was to feel a hundred times lighter. His smile banished the shadows; his cheerfulness buoyed my heart, and his small hand in mine made the impossible seem easy.
I let out a breath. The memories didn’t leave me alone when I was with him, but they were…less intense. And had I not been able to pull myself from them yesterday with the sound of hisvoice? That was more progress than any other I’d made in the six months since I’d been rescued.
Perhaps if I…I’d been so scared of their paralysis over me, the way they infected both my body and mind with terror, that I’d done everything I could to stave them away. Pushing myself with work and training so I would be too exhausted to dream. Avoiding anything that could possibly trigger me. I’d even briefly considered the escape of strong drink, although that had only made it all worse. None of it had helped, so maybe I should try runningtowardsthe fear instead of away from it?
“It’s not pretty,” I said quietly. Unnecessary, for he’d already seen me at my worst and was still here, yet I felt the need to utter the warning.
Wyatt nodded. “Do whatever you need,” he urged me softly, reaching out to trace his fingers down my cheek. “I’ll keep you grounded here, okay?”
I cocked my head. He gave me a playful, mischievous look, slipping between my arms and off the bed. A gentle push and I was seated where he had been, and then it was his turn to drop to his knees for me. My breath caught at the sight.
“It’s only fair,” murmured Wyatt, gathering his hair loosely over one shoulder and eyeing off my rapidly growing cock with keen interest. “You fed me lunch yesterday and breakfast this morning…now feed me something else.”
I groaned when I saw his pink tongue dart out to wet his lips. By the Blessed Five, this boy waseverything.“Then you best open that pretty mouth of yours, little one.”
He nodded obediently, not bothering to speak because he’d already done as I asked, parting his lips and sticking out his tongue before dipping forward to take me into his mouth. Tight, wet heat enveloped me. And he once again surprised me withhow flexible and determined that delicate body of his was, taking much more of my length than I would have expected.
Reluctantly closing my eyes on the arousing sight of that mouth stretched wide around my cock, green eyes crinkled in pleasure, I let myself go, surrendering to the wave of darkness that always lapped at the edges of my consciousness.
I’d never willingly embraced it before. A moment of terror seized my heart at how easy it was to invite those horrors in, but then…I was there.
Back in the basement, blood glistening across my chest and trickling down between my legs. I coughed and it felt like fire in my lungs; hot and acidic and yet just one more pain among many. My head hung low, unable to maintain the strength to keep it up.
I shifted in my restraints, trying in vain to find a position that brought more comfort. But there was no comfort here, just agony and exhaustion and fear and…
And a hot, curious tongue lapping at my slit. I sighed at the unexpected pleasure, thrusting my hips to feel more of it. The eager mouth around my cock willingly obliged, taking me deeper, and it was distracting enough to make me miss most of what the rebels around me were saying.
“…still working on him, sir. We’ve broken all his fingers, given him the taste of the lash once or twice, and a whole host of other fun things to show him his place. But without the Touch, there’s a limit to how far we can go before we kill the royalist prick.”