Page 64 of Honeythorn
“I…you must know how much I desire you,” Raphael began quietly, blush deepening. “But…I fear that I might not please you. Sometimes I react strangely to touch.”
A savage, desperate wave of fury and sadness almost choked Milan at those words, but he didn’t let it show.
“Raphael…” He leaned forwards for a moment to press his forehead against Raphael’s chest, wanting to travel in time and rip Jack to shreds.
Milan pulled back again. “Husband…this—us coming together, is not a chore. Not a requirement or an expectation. It’s a joy. All I want is for you to feel safe and wanted with me. I would never—never, Raphael—expect you to go beyond what makes you comfortable and brings you pleasure. It does not matter when or how we are coming together, you can always tell me if you wish to stop. I won’t be upset. In fact, I’ll be upset if you feel ill or unsafe and you don’t tell me.”
Raphael looked at him for a long time, and Milan let the bond speak the truth between them, opening it wide and letting every ounce of feeling for him through.
Eventually, Raphael closed his eyes, letting his forehead lay gently against Milan’s. “Sometimes, I think you are not real,” he whispered.
Milan framed Raphael’s face with his hands, holding him close. “I am quite real.”
Raphael grabbed one of Milan’s hands, turning his head to press a kiss against his palm. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Husband. It takes no effort to be kind to you.”
Milan vowed that, whatever happened, he would not let this man be taken advantage of again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Milan made it a point from then on to respect Raphael’s boundaries and moods when it came to touching, but not to be shy, either. He did not want Raphael to believe that his past made him too difficult a person to handle.
Raphael flourished under the affection like nothing Milan had seen before. He had opened tremendously since he could verify through the bond that Milan did not mean him harm, but now, with all the soft, casual touches just to feel close to each other, he seemed to open petal by petal under the sun.
The increased awareness between them was a sweet torture all on its own. Milan would arrive from the workshop to find Raphael waiting for him, and they would kiss softly, like a truly bonded couple. Instead of sitting in separate seats to read after their work was done, they would curl up together on the couch, sharing this paragraph or that, or teasing or arguing playfully.
Sometimes, when they had not seen each other all day, Milan would pull Raphael into a kiss, and they would stand by the entrance of their home very close together, sharing warmth and smiles, and Milan felt he had everything he had wished this would be.
At night, the electricity between them would hum with a distracting intensity. Tentatively, Milan pressed himself close against Raphael, who immediately moulded their bodies together. They would sleep like that, tangled together.
Milan thought back on the days when he had hated and feared Raphael and wondered at how far his feelings for his husband had come. Milan knew that Katarina was suspicious of the change, but perhaps it was because she had never experienced a bond.
MilanknewRaphael, and he could not deny what his heart felt for him.
**********
“Raphael. Raphael!” Milan shrieked as he looked out of the window for the first time that morning. He could not believe what he was seeing—everything was covered in a soft-looking blanket of white. The sky was blue and all was perfectly still, but the snow glimmered on the trees and the ground. It was like they had been taken to another world.
“What? Are you—oh.” Raphael laughed as he saw what Milan had been shouting about.
“It’s snow,” Milan said in wonder, pressing his hands against the cold glass.
“Yes. Shall we take the dogs out after breakfast?”
“They’lldie.”
Raphael laughed again. “Just the other day you said it looks like the pups are walking on stilts, with how their legs have grown.”
“Yes, but…their poor little paws.”
“They’ll be fine. Come on.”
Despite Milan’s worries, Pax and Lima shot straight into the snow the moment the front door was opened. They sniffed the ground, running their noses against the pristine cover of white before barking and jumping around as if deciding whether the snow was friend or foe.
Milan was just as enthusiastic. “My foot goes right through it!” he exclaimed, demonstrating the phenomenon several times as he jumped in a circle.
Raphael laughed. “Yes, unless it has been trodden on and packed tight, it’s light enough to walk through. That’s why all our boots and breeches and coats are covered in oiled skin—so the wetness doesn’t seep through.”
