Bee Among the Clover (220 page)

R
OMAN was amazed at how quickly he recovered his strength. It was
almost as if he had never been ill at all. This was further reinforced by the smoothness of his thigh, without any kind of mark to indicate where he’d
been branded. The scientific turn of his mind compelled him to ask Aron
what had happened, but almost as soon as the conversation started, he gave up and decided he didn’t want to know. He was alive, and that was
all that mattered.
Roman did understand the need to make sure his recovery seemed
slow, and that was no easy prospect. He spent the day in Aron’s company
and tried to ignore the sounds at night. His stomach twisted at the thought of Wulfgar touching Aron, and he was furious at the thane for making
Aron sleep in the bed with him instead of letting him return to the pallet.
He comprehended Wulfgar’s reasoning, but it didn’t make his resentment
any less.
However, right now wasn’t a time for angry thoughts. Roman smiled as Aron helped him out into the sunlight. It seemed like it’d been months
since he felt its warmth on his face. Aron had convinced Wulfgar to let
them have the day outside, arguing that the fresh air would be good for him, and to their surprise, the thane had agreed. He knew exactly where he
wanted to take Aron. Today he wasn’t going to worry. Not about getting
caught or Osric. Today his thoughts would be only on them being
together.
Aron used the pretense of Roman still being weak to wrap his arm around him as they walked through the yard. He was smiling, and Roman
knew he was looking forward to the day as much as he was. They were
going to be alone, the whole afternoon to themselves. What could be better
than that?
“Did you want to just walk for a while, darkling? We could head up
to the tor, or perhaps into the forest and find a tree for you to climb,” Aron
suggested in a teasing voice, his eyes sparkling.

Roman smiled in return, shaking his head. “Actually, there’s somewhere specific I wanted to go, if you don’t mind?”
Aron grinned. “Not at all. I’m in your hands, love.” They spoke quietly since they weren’t far from the yard and didn’t want to risk being overheard.
As they made their way out of the gate, Roman felt the guards watching them. He wasn’t concerned about Wulfgar checking on them, despite the bundle Aron carried, which contained some bread and cheese. He was supposed to be an invalid, so the thane would be secure in the knowledge they wouldn’t get far. Soon he’d have to drop the pretense with Wulfgar, but not today.
Once they entered the trees and Roman was sure nobody was following them, he took Aron’s hand and tugged him down a faint path. His laughed under his breath. “Whenever I think of you, I think of you in this place.” He couldn’t wait to show it to him.
Aron arched an eyebrow but smiled as they wended their way through the trees. “How long is it going to take us to get there?”
“It’s not far.” Roman squeezed Aron’s hand. “But it’s far enough from the hall that our privacy should be assured.”
Aron grinned and let Roman lead him down the overgrown path. Eventually, the underbrush and trees parted, and they stepped out into a small clearing, the grass a brilliant green and covered in a thick carpet of clover. A small stream burbled over rocks along one edge, the sunlight filtering through the trees and sparkling off the water. Roman’s smile was bright as he turned to Aron to see what he thought of his special place.
Aron’s eyes widened, a slow smile curving his lips as he looked around. Then he met Roman’s eyes and his expression softened even more. “Beautiful….” His quiet tone made it quite apparent he was talking about Roman and not the clearing.
Roman flushed and sucked in a soft breath, stepping closer to Aron, his free hand coming up to caress the back of his neck. “I’ve had a hundred different fantasies of you here, Aron. It used to be my quiet place and now it seems inundated with you. I didn’t think….” He cut off what he had been about to say: that he hadn’t thought he’d ever get to show it to Aron when he’d left. He shook his head and smiled instead. “I wanted to share it with you.”
Aron cherished every soft touch Roman gave him, the ones that happened without prompting. And it seemed to happen more often as his darkling gained confidence. Aron glanced around the clearing. He could picture Roman here sitting by the stream or out in the sun with his books and quills, with ink stains on his fingertips and a serious expression on his face.
His thoughts were interrupted when Roman leaned into him and gave him a fleeting kiss. Before Aron could pull him closer, Roman turned and walked toward the center of the clearing, looking back over his shoulder at him, his eyes glimmering with a clear invitation.
Aron’s heart tripped. At this moment, his darkling seemed like a magical creature who could slip through his fingers and disappear forever. He hurried toward Roman, who had stopped and was standing with the sunlight falling fully on him. He caught Roman around the waist and kissed him soundly to make sure he was real. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Right here, Aron, right here.” Roman’s arms stole around his neck, and he pressed his forehead against Aron’s. “I want to make love right here in the sunlight, Aron, with the song of the bees in our ears and our scents mixing with the crushed clover. I want to remember this day and think of you with the taste of honey on my tongue.”
Aron felt the force of those words like a fist to the stomach, knocking the breath from him, and the loving heat in Roman’s beautiful eyes filled him with an aching desire. He smiled and brushed their lips together, tongue slipping out to taste his soft, full lower lip.
“The taste of you puts anything the bees can make to shame, love.” His arm tightened around Roman’s slim waist, and he lifted him off his feet, bearing him gently to the ground, brushing his hair back from his face. There weren’t any words for what Roman was to him. Before coming to Wulfgar’s household, he’d always thought this was a myth; love this strong wasn’t something he had ever imagined. But now that he had it, he’d do anything to keep it, to keep him.
Roman looked up at him, eyes wide in his face, nibbling on his upper lip and smiling when Aron’s tongue slipped out to draw it into his mouth. He moaned low in his throat as they kissed, soft and gentle, slow and deep: a kiss not of heated passion or scorching desire, but of love, pure and beautiful.
Roman slid his hand up into Aron’s thick hair and held him closer. Aron groaned as Roman grew bolder as they continued to kiss. His darkling’s hands slid from Aron’s hair and ran over his body. Roman had a way of touching him, watching him when he wasn’t being ordered to, that was distinctly different from the times they’d shared in Wulfgar’s bed. Aron lifted his head and smiled down at Roman. How he’d thought he could walk away from him was beyond him.
Roman smiled back at him, his hands slipping underneath Aron’s tunic to brush against his skin. Aron groaned; it had been an eternity since that night in the tent. Roman must have thought the same, because his fingers were greedy on his skin, as if he needed to reaffirm the bond they shared.
Aron reached behind him to catch his tunic and drew it off, tossing it aside. He grinned at the appreciative look on Roman’s face and the way his hands shifted to caress the newly bared places to explore. His own hands were eager for the hot silk of his darkling’s golden skin, and with that in mind, his fingers caught the hem of Roman’s tunic and tugged it up over his head, eyes roaming over him.
By the gods, he was breathtaking, with his parted lips and eyes halflidded in pleasure. Lowering his head and capturing one flat nipple with his teeth, Aron chuckled at the soft, surprised sound Roman made when he gave it a stinging nip.
Roman couldn’t tear his gaze away. No one had ever affected him the way Aron did. When they were alone and making love, his lover treated him as an equal. It’d been a long time since he’d felt like one. And the pleasure went beyond physical and into the realm of magical when Aron touched him.
How it’d frightened him at first, this depth of emotion, the intensity that stole his breath. He’d known it could be his undoing, but what he hadn’t realized was it could also be the key that unlocked him from the prison he’d been living in. Roman’s hands moved possessively over Aron’s back. His… his… his…. He wanted to kiss every spot Wulfgar had touched and make it his own again. It was a silly thought. The thane would do what he would do, but it was supremely satisfying to know it was a slave, not a thane, whom Aron thought of every night.
Aron’s tongue traced a glistening path from his nipple down the center of his chest to his navel. Roman bit his lip, trying to hold back a laugh and not squirm as his lover’s teeth nipped and his lips and tongue soothed. Then he thought of Aron’s marks all over his body, and he ceased being ticklish. He wanted them. It would still be at least a week before Wulfgar would call him to his bed, if he ever did again, and for once, the prospect of Wulfgar rejecting him didn’t scare him. Aron was the only one he ever wanted to be with now.
Aron unlaced Roman’s trews, nuzzling at the thin line of hair that traveled down from his navel. The sun shone down warm on their skin as he finished undressing Roman, his eyes roaming over his naked form as Roman met his gaze without any trace of self-consciousness. His hands came up to cup Aron’s face, and he slid his fingers back deep into his hair, tugging Aron’s head down to his stomach again.
“Mark me,” he said, the words slipping out without thought, and he immediately blushed, meeting Aron’s surprised gaze. He’d rarely asked for anything he wanted before and bit his lip, wondering if he should take it back. Then Aron grinned, a wicked light springing to his eyes that made Roman gasp.
His lover pressed his lips just under his navel, and Roman’s stomach jumped in response. His lover moved, and his teeth scored the slave’s hip. Roman’s breath caught as he waited for Aron to continue, and then Aron moved again, settling himself lower between his spread thighs. He kissed the unblemished skin where the brand had been.
Aron’s head lifted, a silent question in his eyes. An ache rose from Roman’s heart to lodge in his throat so he couldn’t speak, but he nodded his head, holding his breath as Aron lowered his mouth to that spot again. His eyes stung, but he kept them on Aron as he felt his lover’s tongue stroke his skin, then Aron opened his mouth wider and sucked, and Roman whimpered as the paralysis in his throat broke.
His fingers tightened in Aron’s hair as the power of it washed over him. With every tender nip of his teeth, every swipe of his tongue, the remembered pain and fear dissipated a little more, until there was nothing left but the loving sting of Aron’s mouth on his thigh. When his mouth finally lifted, Roman looked down and groaned at the sight of the reddish brown mark against his skin.
He sat up then and met Aron as he rose, sighing against his lips as he kissed him hard. He unlaced Aron’s trews and opened them, slipping his hands around and down the back to cup Aron’s buttocks, giving him a slow, seductive smile before pushing him onto his back amongst the clover. He shimmied down his lover’s body and tugged his trews down and off.
He wanted to taste every inch, truly worship this body that haunted his dreams and the man who owned his heart like no other ever had or ever would. His hands stroked Aron’s strong thighs as he dipped his head and dragged his tongue from the base to the tip of his cock, and satisfaction filled him at the way Aron groaned and arched for him.
Roman’s mouth closed around the head of Aron’s cock, and he drew him into his mouth, sinking down with deliberate slowness until he felt him touch the back of his throat. His hands slid up Aron’s thighs and curled around his hips as he began to bob his head, his tongue stroking the length as he moved. Roman groaned, meeting Aron’s eyes, liquid heat pooling in his stomach, and Aron gasped.
Roman watched him through his lashes, and when Aron moved to reach for him, he drew his mouth away and gave him a slight smile, shaking his head. “Later, Aron, right now you’re all mine.”
Aron nodded with a shaky half-smile. “Yes, darkling, all yours.” He reclined back on his elbows, one hand sliding down and threading into Roman’s hair as he sank his mouth back over Aron’s cock.
Roman felt a searing ache in his chest as Aron agreed, told him he was his. He hadn’t ever had anyone be his before, not to love. And he was so glad it was Aron. He had been in sexual relationships before he was captured, but he’d never given anyone his heart, not fully and of his own free will, as he did with Aron. Here, now, in this place and for as long as he was able, he’d give himself to Aron just as freely, and when Aron was gone, Roman would still be his.
Aron’s breath caught as Roman began to bob on him again. The soft, wet heat of his mouth, the delicious suction, and the sight of him all combined to cause his downfall. He curled his fingers into his palms, clinging to his control. Roman was trying to kill him. That was the only explanation, Aron thought, a wave of sharp, tingling fire sweeping through him as the slave’s words echoed in his thoughts. All his. By the gods, he was. Roman belonged to him, but he belonged to Roman as well.
Aron drank in the vision of Roman’s slender, long-fingered hands on his body, the contrast of their skin tones where they lay tangled together, the look of pleasure and peace on his face. Groaning, Aron let his head fell back, his own hands itching to touch Roman. He promised himself he’d have the chance later, when his darkling was done playing with him.
Roman slid his hands back down Aron’s thighs, tracing the bottom curves of his buttocks. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking Aron’s cock a little harder, and Aron groaned, rocking his hips. Then he felt one fingertip circle his entrance, the touch almost hesitant, and a shiver raced through his body. Just then he remembered how he’d responded to Roman’s touch first, not Wulfgar’s, and almost laughed at the surge of triumph which went through him. It seemed the thane had not won at all… but thoughts of him were for another day entirely.
His legs spread wider, and he arched, hips lifting to meet Roman’s mouth. He gasped as Roman’s finger pushed into him, and his body instinctively relaxed. It was so good he feared he’d come apart. “Marcus, gods, darkling, I love you.”
The sound of that name still had the power to startle Roman. It had been so long since he’d heard it. Were anyone else to try to use it, he’d strike them down where they stood, but on Aron’s lips, he thought it was the most beautiful word.
Both nervousness and excitement tugged at Roman. Under normal circumstances, he’d never consider making love to Aron, and if he never did so again after today, he’d be content. He’d never considered himself a jealous or possessive man until Aron came along. Now all those instincts had come out, and he didn’t want Aron’s only experience of being penetrated to come from Wulfgar. He wanted Aron to feel him and remember
him
. The idea had consumed him from the time he’d thought of it. At first, he’d been uncertain whether Aron would want him that way, but his lover didn’t seem inclined to stop him.
Roman sank his finger deeper and pulled his mouth off Aron’s cock so he wouldn’t over-stimulate him, kissing across his stomach as he began to thrust it inside of him. “I love you, too, Aron,” Roman said, his voice husky with all the emotion locked inside him that tried to choke him up whenever he spoke.
Their eyes locked, and Roman drank in each reaction that crossed Aron’s face. He could tell when he brushed Aron’s spot by the way his blue eyes would darken and the way his body jolted in response. Roman groped for his trews with his free hand, searching for the small vial of oil he’d concealed there before they left. He showed Aron the small bottle and cocked his head, looking at him in question.
He hesitated, drawing his upper lip into his mouth and worrying it. His training told him to offer Aron the vial and simply pretend he’d never intended to make love to Aron, but Aron didn’t want his training; he’d told him so. As if to confirm his thoughts, Aron rocked his hips harder. “Don’t stop now, darkling.”
Roman smiled and withdrew his finger, pouring some oil onto his hand before slipping his now-slick finger back inside of him. Aron groaned, clenching around him, and Roman’s heart beat wilder as Aron seemed to accept what he was doing. He began to work another finger into Aron, giving him a chance to adjust before beginning to stretch him. His tongue flickered out over his lover’s stomach, moving up his chest, and he yearned to kiss him, to feel his body underneath his own. He arched over Aron, his mouth coming down, seeking Aron’s, a smoldering fire burning inside of his blood as Aron captured his mouth and drove his tongue inside.