Page 89 of Seth
“Hurt me,” Ignaz demanded. His eyes widened, pupils blown, and he constantly swallowed. “Hurt me.”
“No.”
With unsteady feet, Ignaz staggered to Seth and grabbed his wrist. “You don’t understand. I need this.”
“You need to rest.” Seth tried to reason, but angry palms slammed into his chest, knocked some air out of his lungs.
“No!” Ignaz yelled. For the first time, Seth saw anger in his face. It was such a desperate expression that it didn’t provoke counter-aggression, only an acute realization that even if Ignaz was the one, Seth was probably too late.
“Red!” Seth’s mouth twitched as he used the most common safeword. He stepped back, wincing.
Ignaz paled. “Why?”
Holding both ends of the rattan cane, Seth broke it against his knee, and tossed the splinters aside. It felt like the end when Seth said, “I don’t know what you are using me for, but I don’t enjoy it. Find someone else.”
He turned on his heel and tried to leave the room, but Ignaz’s fingers caught his elbow.
He faced the boy. Blue fevered eyes glinted on the pale face as Ignaz asked again, “Why? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to be the reason for your pain. I want to be the reason for your pleasure.” Seth’s brows drew together as he swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. On an impulse, he bent forward and brushed his lips against Ignaz’s.
When he pulled away, Ignaz stumbled back, mouth twisting in pure horror. “I’m sorry, Seth.”
Seth closed his eyes. Rejection stung. It always had, but he was long used to it. Tearing his lips apart, he still managed to keep his voice neutral. “Go to your room. I’ll come and treat your back in a moment.” When Ignaz didn’t move, Seth added, “Don’t worry. I promise you; my hopes are down.”
* * *
They hadn’t exchangeda word since the incident in the basement. Right after treating Ignaz’s back, Seth retired into his studio and didn’t leave once. Judging by the hollow feeling in his chest and the silence falling over the villa, Ignaz had left, and Seth didn’t want to go out and confirm the suspicion. His mind blanked the way it always did when he was tired. He knew he should sleep, but after what had happened, his possible dreams scared him. He knew the desert would rage again, the god’s carbuncles would reopen and ooze ichor, and there would be no sign of Ignaz.
He lowered into his reclining chair and rested back, looking up at the curved flank of the moon hanging behind the window. He blinked, blinked again, and a heavy dream swept over him.
The desert layflat around his hooves, silver and black in the deadened light of the moon. The sandy dunes, as if flirting with the myriads of stars forming the grayish curve of the Milky Way, twinkled. Set turned on his hoof, as a sense of someone’s presence touched the back of his mind. His teeth bared, hair bristled on the back of his head, and a low growl escaped his torn throat. But as soon as he faced the blue eyes, that even in the night looked like deep water, his aggression melted.
Ignaz lay by his feet, shivering. He’d scooped a pile of sand to use as a pillow. His knees were tugged to his chest. The night dew sparked in his hair as cold prickled his skin.
If Set’s muzzle were capable of expressions, he would be smiling. He lowered on a knee and extended his palms forward. Threads of sand, rising from the ground, formed a blanket and covered the boy. Ignaz stopped shivering, and the god promised the only thing he did best.
“I’ll destroy everyone who ever hurt you. No pain will ever touch your soul, no sorrow. I give you the word of Set.”
He took the boy’s hand in his clawed palms, and with a long tongue, he licked the inner side of Ignaz’s wrist, healing the old scars crisscrossing the thin, transparent skin.
Seth emergedfrom sleepinto the slender fingers framing his cheeks. The stolen touch that explored his face retreated, and Seth instantly missed the skin-to-skin contact. Ignaz sucked in a loud breath and stumbled away, dressed in only a linen shirt. “I didn’t mean to…”
Am I still dreaming?Seth looked around, then habitually touched his face, tracing the same spots the boy had been exploring a second ago.
Ignaz licked his lips, swallowed, and his slim fingers reached to his collar. With a mortified expression, he unfastened the top button.
“What are you doing?” Seth rasped, barely hearing his voice behind the violent drumming of his suddenly too awake heart.
“I…” Mental turmoil jerked Ignaz’s cheek, and he drew a half-circle in the air with his chin. His fingers tangled in the fabric. The shirt parted on his chest as he finally undid the buttons. The linen fabric slipped off his shoulders and folded around his feet.
Every cell in Seth’s body froze, paralyzed. Once again, he looked at the light hair triangle and the soft, gentle curve of Ignaz’s cock hanging over the hairless balls. Nude, Ignaz was breathtaking.
Slowly, unwillingly, Seth raised his eyes. Pink with embarrassment, Ignaz looked young, almost too young. Seth cleared his throat, not trusting his voice before he asked, “What’s happening?”
“The way you look at me makes me feel guilty because I like it.” Ignaz dropped his chin. Seth bent forward, picked up the linen shirt, and got up from his chair. He rounded Ignaz and set the garment back on his shoulders.
“It’s okay. I understand,” Seth lied; he didn’t understand a thing. Right now, Ignaz was an enigma, and his emotions couldn't be more alien to Seth. He didn’t know what guilt felt like. It was just another elusive word for him, along with pain and temperature. Something he couldn’t comprehend. But he certainly didn’t want to accept a sacrifice driven by it. “You don’t need to do this.”
