Page 44 of On the Mountain

“Why?” he asked gently, as if the question scared him. Or maybe it was my possible answer that did.

The thing was, in some ways, my mouth wanted to just open and let it all spill out, to tell him the truth, tell him everything, not because I wanted him to know or because I wanted to relive it, but because I didn’t want to deny Cyrus anything. It was so damn confusing. “I don’t understand why I struggle to say no to you.”

He nudged me with his arm. “Maybe it’s my charm.” I turned his way, cocking a brow, and Cyrus chuckled. “Okay, so apparently, it’s not my charm. Maybe it’s just…we get each other. Deep down to the bone, something about us is connected. I feel it, Crow.”

I sighed because I felt it too. Part of me wanted to evict it, to incinerate it because no good would come of it, but the other part wanted to hold tight, to fucking imprint it into myself.

“Because I was The Chosen’s son. More was expected of me in every way.” More Enlightenment, more Clarity, more pain, more Worship.

“Your dad—”

“Chosen,” I cut him off. He was not my dad. He hadn’t wanted to be, either, not in the typical way that families existed. Not in the way they were in books I’d read.

“Chosen…what kind of things did he expect from you?”

I didn’t know how to answer that, or maybe I just didn’t want to. This was already exhausting. My chest squeezed tight, breathing becoming more difficult.

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry for being nosy.” Cyrus’s warm, gentle hand rested on my forearm, and I tensed. “I’m sorry.” He pulled away. “Sometimes you’re okay when I touch you, and others it seems to be harder.”

“I didn’t get affection the way you did. Chosen had rules about emotions and affection, especially with me, especially as I got older. My mother was rarely allowed to hug me. Everything I needed I was supposed to get from him, and he didn’t think I needed that. It was all to make me strong. To make me into someone who would blindly follow him, to take scraps he gave me, like Hillary.”

But I did like it when Cyrus touched me, even if I didn’t show it to him. I liked it when he would rest his head on me and suck my cock for hours…

“Jesus, Crow. Why didn’t your mom—”

“She tried,” I snapped, cutting off his words before he could go any further. My heart already spiked just hearing that.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. It feels similar to when people asked me why my mom didn’t stop doing drugs. It’s not that easy. People like to throw stones at others for their choices, when most of the time, we’re just doing the best we can.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Somehow I knew he would get it.

“He brainwashed her, and you, and everyone else. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t their fault either.” My brave little lamb surprised me by pushing the wood away and jumping onto the table. “Come here, Crow.”

He tugged on my shirt, and I let him lead me to stand between his legs. He wrapped them around me, then his arms too. I let him do that as well.

“If you’ll let me, I’ll hold you and touch you every damn day.” He dropped his forehead against mine, and I reached up, held on to his hips. “I want to kiss you, Crow, but I won’t. One day I hope you’ll let me, but if not, that’s okay too.”

He brushed his nose against mine, and damned if I didn’t tremble. When I inhaled, it was Cyrus’s breath I was taking into my lungs. My hold on him tightened. The things I wanted to do to him…the way I wanted to consume him.

“I love the way you smell.” His lips ghosted close to mine, but they didn’t touch me. I growled in response. “The way you feel. The way you make me feel. If I could, I would take away every bad memory you have and replace them with something good.”

This time it was me who moved, but I didn’t go far, just burying my face in his neck and letting my teeth bite into him. I didn’t break the skin, but Cyrus gasped. His hold on me tightened, a hand fisting into my hair.

“Yes…please, Crow. Mark me. Make me yours.”

I sucked his skin hard, drawing the blood to the surface with my mouth in pull after pull. My dick throbbed, but this moment wasn’t about fucking him. I’d finally given him my mouth on his cock, and while he wanted it on his lips, I couldn’t give him that yet, but this I could and would willingly do.

I moved to the other side, only briefly seeing the red splotch on his throat before doing the same in a new spot. Everything between us was animalistic, which suited me well. I knew I wasn’t like most people, that the years up here alone had altered something inside me, but I was okay with that. But he… Cyrus needed it too. I felt it in the way he touched me, saw it in the heat that blazed in his eyes.

When the proof of whom he belonged to was in his skin again, this time it was me who pressed my forehead to his. I didn’t stay long, though, instead dropping my head to the side. With my hand on his nape, I led Cyrus’s mouth to my throat.

“Crow…” he said breathily, before pressing soft kisses to my skin. It made me tingle, made my skin feel like it glowed as he kept doing it over and over again, making designs on me with his mouth before he did what I did to him, drawing me in, biting and sucking until it hurt. I wouldn’t stop him, though. I would have let him keep going and taking what he needed from me, but Cyrus stopped. “Being up here with you is the first time I’ve felt like there isn’t something wrong with me…which is strange because the things we do…most people don’t do them.”

“We aren’t most people.” We were outsiders. Outcasts. And I was going to hold on to that for as long as he allowed me to have it with him. “Let’s make your chair.” Cyrus nodded and jumped down. “See this spot? You missed it. There’s a rough area.”

“Okay.” He smiled at me like I’d just given him a gift. “Will you teach me how to make other things?” I nodded. “And to work on the truck.” I nodded again. “I’ll make it so you never regret bringing me here.”

“I never will, little lamb.” I couldn’t.

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