Page 46 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Absolon slammed him against the wall, his mouth mashing painfully against Ragnar’s. A wave of sadness washed through him, and Absolon scrambled like he was trying to push through Ragnar. He shuddered, and the berserker fit passed. A heavy, harsh sob erupted from Absolon’s throat and lodged in Ragnar’s unprotected heart. Absolon cried into his mouth, a bellow followed by tears. Ragnar hugged him close and broke the kiss to whisper close to his ear.

“Give it all to me, Absolon. Give me what I deserve.”

Absolon stepped back, wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, and looked at Ragnar with sorrowful determination. Ragnar didn’t change a muscle in his body or face. He barely breathed. The fit had passed, but Absolon was still unstable. One wrong move and any hope he had of turning this to his advantage would shatter. But thoughts of escape drowned as the sweaty mass of Absolon stood before him. Ragnar wanted him more than he’d ever wanted him before.

“Fuck me, Absolon. Fuck me like you hate me.”

Absolon charged, grabbed at Ragnar’s trousers and ripped them from his body, exposing his already hard cock, and with breathtaking strength, grabbed the chains and ripped them from the wall. How strong was he? But the thought didn’t linger as Absolon spun him around, wrestled down his own trousers, and pressed him against the wall. He spat on his cock and pressed it against Ragnar’s hole, barely giving him a moment to gather himself before pushing his way inside.

Ragnar cried out silently as Absolon impaled him, a burning that made him hiss and grit his teeth. Absolon was not gentle, but Ragnar took it. He took it all as Absolon drove into him again and again, until pain gave way to his pleasure. He struggled to keep the moans from escaping while Absolon hit the sweet spot deep inside. Absolon was big and riding his cock had always brought him great pleasure, but now, his desperate fucking overrode his silence and he swore aloud as Absolon ploughed him. He begged for more and didn’t care that he sounded like a harlot. He pushed back onto Absolon’s thick shaft, forgetting this was meant to be for Absolon and Absolon alone. If he were going to die, he wanted his last fuck to be memorable.

Absolon fucked him hard and fast, digging his fingers into Ragnar’s hips with such force he’d leave bruises, but for now all pain was good pain. Absolon’s breath shortened, hastened, ramming into him for a few good strides, and came with a heart-wrenching guttural cry that left Ragnar’s body quivering. Absolon gasped for air and let his head drop onto Ragnar’s sweat-soaked back.

They stayed like that, Absolon’s cock pulsing inside his ass, making Ragnar’s own cock twitch for attention. But he dared not push back and derive more pleasure for himself while Absolon was so still.

Then he heard it. His stillness gave way to trembling, his silence to sobs, and tears soaked into Ragnar’s shirt. Absolon wept and the sound and the heaviness of his body weighed on Ragnar’s heart, grinding it into pulp. He had done this. He had always thought the worst he could have done was take another’s life, yet here was a destroyed man.

A man he had destroyed.

“Sol?”

When there was no change, he repeated himself and Absolon pulled out of him slowly and turned away. Ragnar hated how empty he felt. And though the manacles were no longer attached to the wall, he was in no way free.

“Sol, tell me what happened.”

Absolon wiped at his red eyes and sniffed up the snot in his nose. “You don’t want to hear it.” He tucked himself away.

“I do.”

“You’ll think I’m a monster.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Those words:I promise. Ragnar had never trusted them himself, and he’d already ruined Absolon’s eternal trust in everything; why should he trust him now? But Ragnar gathered the rug around himself to hide his nakedness and sat on the stool, keeping away from the door, away from any potential Absolon might see in him attempting to escape.

“There’s nothing you can say that will make this any worse.”

Absolon’s mouth hitched up in the corner, like it was a joke that Ragnar hadn’t been allowed into. “After you tied me up and…and abandoned me, I tried to get free.” He put his fingers to his mouth and plucked at his bottom lip. “You…” He blew out a breath. “You broke my heart and…and I thought…” He paused, his gaze flicking to Ragnar then away again. “I thought that once I got free and found you I could…I could make you see your mistake.”

He pulled at his lip again like he was trying to drag the words out of his mouth. His eyes looked into the past.

“I still believed that you loved me. I thought it was a test.” He bunched his fingers at his mouth, then closed them into a fist. “Or a game, or anything, but the truth was…the truth was you didn’t want me anymore.”

Ragnar wanted to correct the record but held his tongue.

“When I couldn’t get free and when you didn’t come back, I went berserk.” He closed his eyes and the old shame fell over him. “The fit came and I tried to escape, but it was no use. I collapsed and lost all track of time.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at Ragnar. “All I could think of was what had I done to deserve such contempt.”

Ragnar shivered and held the blanket tighter. Guilt coated his heart in cold grease; he closed his mouth lest he gag.

“But my yelling brought someone to my side. I became aware of them and thought—hoped—it was you, but it was the Devil. A devil named Lysander.”

Absolon leaned against the doorframe and blew out a long breath. “He was refined, like you. Handsome and wicked, like you. He broke my bonds with no more strain than you would have breaking a twig. He held out his hand to me and asked my name and called me beautiful, called me a jewel, and asked me to go with him.”

His hands had closed into fists, but noticing this, Absolon opened them and stroked his index finger with his thumb, as if coaxing out the story.

Or poison.

“I said I was grateful for freeing me but there was another I needed to go to. He grew jealous and asked who it was, so I told him. He called me a fool for wanting to go to the one who’d imprisoned me and encouraged me to go with him. At first, I was cautious, but soon his words made more sense and my anger at you grew. Lysander kept me calm, he promised me a way to find revenge, and then he fucked me. He fucked me a lot.”

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