Page 10 of Winds of War

That happened two years earlier and at that time, Ardan's son thought it was caused by excitement, but looking back, he wasn't so sure. Almost without realizing, Cian asked himself if he would have felt the same had Joaquin had been the one who would have hugged him. Although he couldn't answer that question, there was one thing the boy knew for sure: torn between two men who might love him or not, his heart didn't belong to him anymore.

Meanwhile, unaware of the storm in Cian's mind and soul, Ardan and Alasdair stepped out of the children's room. They closed the door behind them, careful not to wake up Paisley and Axel who, after two bedtime stories and a lot of tickling, finally fell asleep, and made their way to their bedroom in complete silence.

Once there, Ardan let out a low growl and captured Alasdair's lips in a dominant, hungry kiss that made the redhead weak in the knees. The husbands started to undress one another with quick, urgent moves until there were no barriers left between their bodies. Tightly hugged, skin on skin, devouring one another's mouths, the two men advanced to the ensuite bathroom, dancing to the music in their hearts.

In the shower, the ardency was replaced by tenderness, with Alasdair washing Ardan all over, taking care of his husband's body, worshiping each and every part of it. A radiant smile on his face, eyes shining with adoration, Ardan returned the favor, mapping Alasdair's body with butterfly kisses as droplets of hot water cascaded over them, washing the suds away.

Hopping out of the shower, the two dried one another, then stepped back into the main room holding hands. Ardan climbed on the bed, sat with his back against the headboard and patted his lap, lowering his gaze. Alasdair nodded, and after taking the bottle of lube from the nightstand's drawer, joined his husband in bed, straddling his waist.

Ardan prepared his Spitfire, putting in the act the same care and tenderness as in the lovemaking itself, then liberally coated his cock with the slick substance. Alasdair, who was burning with the need to be possessed, lowered himself on his husband's cock until Ardan's hardness filled him.

Wrapping his arms around his husband's neck, the redhead moved his hips in a dance of seduction and lust, his tight channel massaging Ardan's cock, driving him crazy with desire, pushing him closer to the edge. Thrust after slow, gentle trust, he felt his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach like a ball of fire that got bigger and bigger.

With a lazy smile, he spat in his hand and slicked Alasdair's swollen, rock-hard cock, slowly stroking it, then gradually speeding up the pace, his smile turning mischievous. The redhead started to fuck Ardan's tunneled fist, riding the man's cock with urgency until both of them fell into the abyss of pure pleasure, shooting their loads almost at the same time.

My Spitfire and I were meant to be together. We are a unit, a whole, the perfect halves of each other, Ardan thought, his hands gently sliding down Alasdair's sweaty back. Our love is indestructible, and, through our children, we will live forever.

CHAPTER 8

“I know that expression,” Alasdair whispered, kissing his husband's jaw. “So calm, so serene on the outside, doing your best to hide the storm raging inside of you.”

Ardan closed his eyes, a long, heavy sigh escaping from his lips. “From the first day Lorcan came to The Base, you welcomed him with open arms and took him in your heart, then did the same with Cian. These two boys are my sons, my own flesh and blood, but you were a better father to them than I ever was, always too busy playing the superhero.”

“You were not playing the superhero. You were doing your best to save innocent lives from the claws on the monsters who damaged their bodies and broke their spirit. Lorcan and Cian were mature way beyond their young age, and as soon as they understood what kind of place The Base is, they worshipped you.” Alasdair's voice was calm and soothing, but his heart ached for his husband.

“Tonight,” Ardan continued, ignoring the redhead, ”I realized what a pathetic excuse of a father I am. Cian...only gods know how deep his insecurities are, how much pain is in his soul. I never really talked to him or listened to what he had to say. And Lorcan...it was you who inspired him, helped him choose his future career...” Ardan shook his head, a mix of disappointment, bitterness, and anger all directed at himself taking over his features.

“Cian was always reserved, it was in his nature, and his mother's death made him isolate himself from the rest of the Crazy Bunch. The only one who could really reach him was...”

“Soames.” Ardan cut Alasdair short in a pain-filled voice. “And I, like an insensitive bastard, kept interrogating him about Don Joaquin, failing to see how embarrassed, confused, and pained he was. You know what is going to happen next?” Ardan inhaled sharply, then continued, anger seeping into his voice. “Cian will put a stop to whatever he and Soames have, thinking that I want a union between him and Don Giuseppe's successor.”

”Talk to your son, then, and explain to him what your real intentions are.” Alasdair caressed his husband's face. “My Ardan, don't bring yourself down like that. You are one of the best, most loving, understanding, and caring fathers ever. If you don't believe me, look in the eyes of the children at The Base.” Alasdair gently kissed his husband's temple. “They all see you like the father who makes all the monsters and nightmares go away.”

“And there is Tarrin, of course,” Ardan continued, hugging the redhead to his chest, “whose romantic life is beyond complicated, and he hasn't even turned seventeen. Until a few months ago, I thought he and Ira were a solid couple. I imagined those two growing old together, then all of a sudden, my younger son started to spend a lot of time in Abernathy's company, and I saw them holding hands more than once.”

“That one doesn't talk to me, either.” Alasdair grinned. “You should go to your Pater. I have the feeling he knows almost everything about Tarrin's beyond complicated romantic life. And anyway, as long as he's not hurting, it shouldn't be your business who your son is holding hands with.”

Ardan nodded in response, Alasdair's heart aching at the sight of sadness and regret clouding his husband's eyes. As he traced the contour of the other man's face with the pad of his thumb, the redhead realized Ardan's insistence for them to have a baby of their own had very little to do with continuing Alastair's bloodline.

It was, in fact, the expression of Ardan's greatest wishes, which was to experience the blessing of being a father with all its everyday miracles, ups and downs, worries and hopes. With Lorcan and Cian, whom he was forced to conceive, Ardan was robbed of all the joy, fulfillment, and happiness being a father brings in a man's life.

“I'm trying to say that it's time for me to be more of a father to my sons and less The Base's boss. I thought of a successor, and as soon as this war madness is over, I intend to make the official announcement.” Ardan spoke in a smooth voice that had a tinge of firmness in it.

“You want to step down, to retire because of the atrial fibrillation? We had this talk a thousand time. All you have to do it's slow down a bit, that's all. Or are you feeling tired, drained of energy?” Alasdair examined his husband with a critical eye. “Maybe I should talk to Doctor Rogers, the director of the Institute's cardiology department, and schedule an appointment...”

“I love when you are in full doctor mode, my little healer.” Ardan gave the redhead a tender smile. “I'm as fine as I can be, given the current circumstances, and I don't intend to retire in the next thirty years or so.” The man winked. “It's just that...”

“You want to spend more time in Lorcan, Cian, and Tarrin's company,” Alasdair finished the sentence, letting out a long sigh of relief. “However, don't you think that appointing a successor when you are not even in your forties will be perceived as a sign of weakness by our allies? Not to mention the bastards who want to take you down, especially in these troubled times?” Worry clouded Alasdair's emerald-green eyes as he waited for his husband's answer.

“I will continue to be the front man, the face and voice associated with The Base, while my successor will watch and learn.” Ardan sighed. “There are a lot of things I could have done better in the first years after I established The Base, had I had someone who showed me the ropes.”

“I see now.” Alasdair ran the tips of his fingers through the fine dust of hair covering his husband's chest, the worry from earlier replaced with a mix of relief and admiration. “You are one of the wisest, smartest men I ever met, and you're mine.” The redhead kissed the corner of Ardan's mouth. “Lorcan will benefit from your experience and knowledge, plus the two of you will spend a lot of quality time together.”

“After a thorough evaluation of all the potential candidates to the position of The Base's next leader, I've decided to appoint Elias.” Ardan gently covered Alasdair's hand with his. “I know this comes as a shock for you, and probably others will be surprised, too, but I've chosen him for good reasons, and I won't change my mind, no matter what.” Ardan's voice, although very soft, had a hint of warning in it.

“I...whatever you think it's best,” Alasdair hesitantly said. “You've built The Base from scratch with your own two hands and wouldn't have made that choice had you not been absolutely sure it was in the best interest of everyone living and working within its walls.”

“Lorcan wants to follow in your footsteps as the next star of the Van der Meerwe Institute. Cian is great around kids of all ages, but totally uninterested in all the other aspects of running The Base. Gavin is loyal, dedicated, but also very impulsive. However, I trust Brennan and Lothier will shape him into a great chief of security.” Ardan smiled brightly. “The Base will be in the best possible hands, you'll see.”

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