Page 91 of Beyond the Ruby River
Euphoria in liquid form. Hot, metallic, clove-spiced euphoria pulled from Daka’s throat to disappear down Mahu’s. One luscious swallow, then another, careful to savor each drop as it was given, all the while thrusting. Thrusting until he was delivering his seed into Daka’s body with abandon. The two mounting pleasures of feeding and coming gripped them in passion’s clutches and didn’t let go.
Mahu’s release sparked a rush of trembling delirium in Daka as he fed off the cresting waves of climax. Daka’s cock quaked and shuddered between them, coating their bellies with slick. He arched and writhed, pressing his neck tighter to Mahu’s mouth.
The scent of blood mingled with the scent of sex to form an intoxicating combination. Mahu, high off the intensity, knew that Daka would be experiencing the pleasant drunken haze that came with feeding. Even the rhythm of breathing was in sync, their desperate panting slowing to a steady cadence.
Gently, Mahu withdrew his fangs from Daka’s throat as his shaft slipped free. Sealing the wounds closed with his tongue, Mahu licked every trace of blood from Daka’s perfect, heated skin. He maneuvered them carefully onto their sides, facing each other, Daka’s body tucked tight in his embrace.
Mahu swept his hand over the silken strands of Daka’s lovely black hair. They breathed as one—soft inhalations that brought their chests together—every motion, no matter how small, to be felt by both.
Daka’s fingers drew circles on Mahu’s lower back, then squeezed. “I can’t believe you’re here, in my bed.”
“I’d rather be here than anywhere else.” Mahu leaned in to press his lips to Daka’s forehead.
“Will you stay?” Daka’s voice came soft, tentative. “I mean… Have you come to stay?”
A hopeful flutter erupted in Mahu’s belly. He held his breath. “Is that what you want?”
Daka’s gaze intensified. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, but it also scares me. I don’t trust you not to leave again. I don’t trust myself when I’m with you.”
No, of course Daka didn’t trust him. Not when Mahu had abandoned him—without a word, without a goodbye, without even a response to his letters until he felt he’d had no choice.
“I’m so sorry, Dakarai.”
Daka shook his head. “It isn’t fair of me to want your apologies, not after what I did to you.”
“I’ve forgiven you for that.” Mahu reached forward to cup Daka’s cheek. “And I am sorry. I’m sorry I took so long, and I’m sorry I never told you the truth once I’d learned it.”
Daka leaned into his touch. “What’s that? What do you mean?”
“Your letters, Daka. I read them all, though I asked Solon not to tell you. At first I could not come to you, though part of me always longed to, despite my anger. I felt betrayed, but my love for you didn’t wane. As a young vampire, I couldn’t have controlled myself around you. I’d have bled you dry. You wouldn’t die, of course, but you’d suffer.”
“I suffered anyway,” said Daka in his small voice.
Mahu let out a sad sigh, guilt lodged high in his throat. “I think part of me wanted you to, in the beginning, so that we suffered together. You made me live without my family, so I made you live without me.”
“I deserved it,” said Daka. Mahu made to interrupt, but Daka stopped him with a hard shake of his head. “I should never have forced you. I shouldn’t have forced Temaj.”
Mahu let the words wash over him, a balm on a sore soul. He dropped another kiss to Daka’s forehead. “Centuries passed before I let that go. The old Egyptian gods faded from popular belief as worship of the Christian god swept the land. I realized, all too slowly, none of it was ever real. No one waited for me on the other side because there was no other side.”
Daka stirred in his arms, bringing them even closer, impossibly close, as if he wanted to share skin. Mahu wouldn’t say no.
“I’m sorry you lost your family, Mahu. I always was.”
“I know, Nedjes. You understood, in your own way, but our beliefs were worlds apart. We had no way to form a bridge back then.”
“I did what I thought I had to do, but I’ll always be sorry it hurt you.”
Mahu thought of his long years on this earth, all the lives he had lived until this moment, all the friendships, the lovers, the heartbreaks, the triumphs.
“I’m glad you did it,” Mahu admitted. “I’m glad to be here now.”
Daka took a deep breath. As he released it, his muscles relaxed further. He melted in Mahu’s embrace. “Why didn’t you come sooner?”
Mahu wrestled with the question. He had no good answer. “Do you remember the letter I wrote to you?”
“Of course I do. I’ve had each word memorized since the day I received it. I have the letter still.”
Mahu wasn’t surprised Daka had kept the letter. He’d kept all of Daka’s. They were among his things at Bran Vigny even now, held safe for him until his return, or until he sent for them.
