Page 18 of Memories of the Dark

CHAPTER 15

Rocking in Ardan’s lap, running his hands on the man’s muscular, supple back, Alasdair greedily took his husband inside him, moaning and whimpering for more. The sounds of pleasure escaping from his lips fueled the other man’s passion and lust, his thrusts becoming deeper, quicker, more urgent, but as tender as ever.

Even after eight years from when they made love for the first time, Ardan was afraid that he could hurt Alasdair in the heat of the moment, the redhead finding his husband’s care heartbreaking at times, a reminiscent of the time he was subjected to the most horrific abuse. However, it also warmed his heart because it was another piece that proved the profound, endless love the older man had for him.

Locking his eyes with his husband, Alasdair got lost in the intensity of Ardan’s stare, the incandescent light in those magnificent, turquoise eyes an invitation to look into the man’s soul. Smiling, the redhead tentatively brushed his velvety, seductive lips over those of his husband, who responded with the same tenderness.

However, it didn’t take long before the kiss deepened, turning fiercely passionate, the two hungrily devouring each other, like it was the end of the world, and they wouldn’t have the chance for another kiss. The feeling of Ardan’s long, slim fingers running through his hair, descending to his forehead, temples and cheeks, which he caressed with barely there touches, sent shivers of pleasure to Alasdair’s groin, making his cock rock-hard.

Lowering his eyes for a moment, Ardan inwardly smiled to the side, and lips still locked with his husband’s, sneaked a hand between them, wrapping his fingers around the redhead’s painful erection, giving it lazy rubs. A few moments later, breathless, the two men broke the kiss, locking eyes again. On the brink of insanity, Alasdair wildly rode his husband, pushing his cock into the man’s fist, urging him to go faster.

The signature shy smile on Ardan’s lips grew wider and brighter as he wrapped his free hand around his soulmate’s waist, closing the space between them. Crying his victory, he shot his load deep into Alasdair’s tight channel while the redhead spilled himself all over his husband’s fist, grinning happily, much to the man’s delight.

Ardan took a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his and Alasdair’s naked forms, then started to trace the contour of the redhead’s face with his thumb. The feather-light caress made the younger man beam and sigh in contentment, burying his head in the crook of Ardan’s neck. After carefully listening his husband’s silence for a few seconds, Alasdair knew the man had a weight on his heart.

“Talk to me, my Ardan. Don’t let this burden crush you. What’s wrong?” The words were spoken in a soft, warm voice that touched the other man’s heart.

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s only a strange feeling. When Fergus miraculously appeared, I thought everything was over, and he could finally settle into a peaceful life, building a strong relationship with Nico and enjoying the little things that made him smile.” Ardan let out a barely audible sigh, hugging Alasdair to his chest. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

“The two of you act the same way when experiencing a trauma, preferring to deal with it by yourself than to reach out for help, even if it eats you alive. Stop blaming yourself for what happened to Fergus, and maybe he will start talking about it. However, if I think about it, there’s a lot more there. The longing in your brother’s eyes when he thinks no one is looking at him...” Alasdair raised his head, slowly shaking it.

“Yes, I’ve noticed that, too. Also, since he came home, my brother has never mentioned his rescuers’ names. He speaks fondly about the two Mills, even called them Ma Agatha and Pa Roger a few times but hasn’t called their son or his boyfriend by their names, which is very strange.” Ardan’s eyes darkened as he tried to figure out what was hiding behind Fergus’s behaviour.

“We have to talk to him, it’s the only way to find out what’s going on in his head. Fortunately, we have a valuable ally in the guise of Mister Bloom. He has a great relationship with your brother, one based on mutual respect and trust.” Alasdair smiled, running his hands up and down Ardan’s back, sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

The older man nodded, the bright smile returning to his face, and left the bed, extending his hand to his husband in a gracious invitation. Both men stepped into the bathroom and under the shower, washing and worshipping one another’s body in a ritual of love. Arms above his head, back against the wall, Alasdair surrendered his body and soul to his one and only, letting the desire, lust and passion pouring from Ardan’s kiss consume him whole.

An hour later, while the two husbands were soundly asleep in each other’s arms, Fergus lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts roiling inside his head like a hive of mad bees, keeping him awake. Coming back home didn’t solve his problems, on the contrary, they were more complicated than ever, and there was no sign that the situation was going to change.

Overwhelmed with joy at the news he had a son, Fergus soon realized that expressing his affection for Nico was a very difficult thing. He wanted to hug the kid tight and never let him go, caress his golden hair while cradling him to his chest but was afraid that the boy would be scared by those demonstrations of fatherly love.

Back when he was a child, Fergus was only rarely held, hugged or caressed by his adoptive parents, who had different ways of expressing their affection. They always talked to him in a low, gentle tone, never raising their voice or bringing him down. His adoptive parents encouraged Fergus to pursue his dreams and supported him in everything, including when he came out at seventeen.

No dramatic scenes or threats of being disowned followed his confession, no hateful words were spat in his direction. It was the moment the then-boy realized the depth of his parents’ affection and appreciated their warmth and understanding. The thirty-six-year-old Fergus wanted to be even closer to Nico but didn’t know where to start.

The difficulties he had in building a relationship with his son was just one of the many problems the man had to deal with. On the second night following his return to Ardan’s house, the dam holding back Fergus’s memories broke, and he relived all the horrors Greenwood put him through on the fateful day Xavier and Dehaan found him in a body bag, barely breathing.

Fear, pain, heartbreak, loneliness, horror—the feelings hit in waves, again and again, making him cry with loud sobs until he was completely drained of energy. While laying in bed, exhausted and empty on the inside, Fergus realized he couldn’t tell anyone about what happened in that warehouse.

However, keeping things from the caring but fiercely protective Fabian Bloom or his own brother, Ardan, wasn’t as easy as he initially thought. Both men had come to know Fergus very well and noticed almost instantly the change in his behaviour, asking him what was wrong in a soft, worried voice. The man wanted to let everything out but couldn’t afford to risk it. That burden was his alone to carry, even if it would crush him under its weight.

Dehaan would understand, Fergus thought, he would tell me what to do, how to come to terms with it. But the younger man was in his biker boyfriend’s strong, protective arms, where he belonged, too busy to even think about the problems of a man who became a mere stranger to him. As defeated as he felt over his own situation, Fergus was happy for his rescuers.

Everly, on the other hand, didn’t think the same, although he had been the one who encouraged Xavier to go to Dehaan and openly express his feelings. He missed the biker’s company, longed to fill his lungs with the man’s inebriating scent, yearned to hear the deep, rumbling voice that did things to his body.

In the end, Everly didn’t have any other choice but to admit that his chances of getting Xavier’s attention were reduced to none and putting distance between them was the only decent thing to do. Suddenly, an idea crossed Fergus’s mind, making him sit upright, face brightened by a smile for the first time in days.

He would move back to England, and no one would be surprised by his decision. Freed from under Greenwood’s tyranny, the man could finally take charge of the family’s hotels and motels spread all around the globe. That position involved travelling a lot, so he wouldn’t have too much time to think about what he’d left behind.

Fergus continued to smile, daydreaming. He would have to talk to Nico, explain the whole situation to him. Maybe the kid would want to accompany him, it would be a great way to start building a father-son relationship. And even if the teen didn’t want to accompany him, the two of them could still spend a lot of time chatting on webcam or talking over the phone.

Suddenly, Fergus’s disposition changed as he realized he also had to talk to Xavier and Dehaan. He owed them that much, especially after avoiding them like plague during the last few days of his stay at the Mills’ house. To his eternal shame, from the moment he was reunited with Ardan and Fabian Bloom, he almost completely ignored Xavier and Dehaan, much to his twin brother’s and protector’s surprise.

I will go there just to thank them once again for saving my life and to bid my farewell, like any educated, well-mannered gentleman would do,Fergus thought, sliding under the covers. A few minutes later, he drifted into a profound, dreamless sleep.

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Dehaan stretched with feline grace, arms above his head, eyes half closed. “I love being with you, it makes me feel so protected and cherished... Your warmth, the comfort of your embrace, your voice when you whisper praises into my ear... everything feels so good, so right...” A melancholic smile played on his lips as he opened his eyes, staring deep into Xavier’s.

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