Page 43

Somehow, Jackson misses where the slope begins and immediately trips. I grab the rope to stop him from tumbling forward, but he falls into my arms, which sends me falling backward onto my ass. Now I’m sliding down the side of the dune with Jackson sprawled across my lap, facing the difficult, furrowed landscape of sand and stone that stretches between us and the well. I drive my heels into the sand, trying to slow our descent, but it’s no use. When we reach the bottom, my heels catch on firm sand, and the sudden stop flips us forward. Jackson’s face plows into the sand as he skids onto his hands and knees, and I slam into his upturned ass, my hands instinctively gripping his waist for balance. Even through the layers of cloth between us, I can feel the shape of him pressed against my cock. I immediately pull away just as Jackson tries to leap forward, but the rope snaps taut between us, and he falls backward while dragging me down on top of him.

His cheek is scratched and bleeding, peppered with bits of dark sand, and his pregnant belly touches my abs as it rises with his breath. He looks stunned, and for a moment I'm worried that he has hit his head in the fall. I then realize that my right leg is pushed firmly between his legs, and his heat is blazing against my thigh. He blinks, and focus returns to his eyes.

"Airos," he growls. "Get off of me."

Jackson is proud and strong-willed. I respect that. He’s a soldier, after all. But his hardheaded resistance is confounding. I hate that he ignites every protective instinct I have. There have been moments over these past days when it seems clear to me that we’ve been fated to cross paths, moments when our minds connect in ways that feel like we’ve known each other for lifetimes. But he fights against this connection with the same ferocity he fights everything else. Maybe it won't ever be possible for me to understand why.

And perhaps I shouldn't need to.

All that matters is seeing him and his child safely to the Great Phoenix's temple. To do this, I don't need to understand him. I don't need to be close to him. I don't need to care about anything more than his physical protection, so why does every angry look and every harsh word feel like a rejection? I should be impervious to such trivialities, especially coming from him. So what is wrong with me? Why can I not ignore the way he makes me feel?

Jackson

I feel the places where Airos's body had been for that split second. The heat from his hands lingers on my waist, and so does the impact of his body against my ass. That brief moment of being on all fours, ass up like a goddamn bitch in heat, is burned into my head. I can't get rid of it. I can't shake the feeling that it actually feltgood.

It didn't feel good, goddammit. It was a fucking accident, and you're a fucking idiot.So get that image out of your head.

But I can't. I'm trapped in those three seconds. My imagination is going out of control, playing out what could happen if Airos went ahead and did what my body is craving.

No! This ain't no fucking craving. This is delirium. You're not gay. You don't want that.

But now he's on top of me, his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. And his leg... It's pushed between my thighs, pressed right against my fucking taint. I feel my cock acting on its own accord, swelling up, my tip becoming a thousand times more sensitive to every movement. And my ass... God, I've never felt this feeling of literal emptiness before. It's a deep ache, a need to be filled with something.

With what, Jackson? Admit what you want inside of you. You know what it is.

These conflicting voices bombard me from every direction. They pull me like children fighting over a stuffed toy ready to rip at the seams. I want to tear my brain out and smash it into paste.

Then, beneath the simmering arousal is something else—a heat deep within my body, from where my phoenix power comes from. No, wait, itismy phoenix power. One is feeding into the other, slowly replenishing the phoenix source.

My immediate reaction is to pull away from this feeling. It's dangerous.

"Airos, get off of me." I have to force the words out of my mouth.

"With pleasure," he says.

I stand up with him and take a moment to dust myself off. Really, I'm just trying to get myself under control again. My heart is beating so fucking fast.

"Are you alright?" he asks after a moment. His voice is thin.

"Fine," I reply, not wanting to make eye contact. I really don't want him to see what I'm trying to control. I touch my stinging cheek and wipe the blood onto my cloak. "Let's go."

Both of us are worn down. Is this my limit? Is this really what breaks me?

We move side by side across the rugged landscape. Neither of us looks at each other or speaks. Good. It's better like this.

The little hills of sand are like moguls on a ski course—just big enough to make traversing them incredibly annoying. We can't go too fast, or else one of us will snag the other and fall, and the constant climbing and descending is hell on my stamina. I look up at the sky. I'm useless without a compass. Does Airos really know where he's going? Our footprints trail off behind us, but at this point it's impossible to know exactly where we've come from. Everything looks the same.

I don't know how much time has gone by. We've fallen into a pace that somehow keeps us from tripping into each other or stepping on each other's feet.

And then, the terrain changes. And I thought the moguls were shitty. Now, the ground is rocky and cracked with empty river channels that present sudden vertical walls, forcing us to shift direction until we find places where we can safely climb up or down. But with the rope, even low scrambles feel like climbing a fence with no arms.

"We could just cut this damn thing," I say as Airos extends a hand to help me climb. "No one would know."

Airos doesn't say anything. And I don't reach for any one of the many sharp-edged rocks littering the ground. We just keep trudging forward. Climb up, climb down. Put one foot in front of the other. It's all I have the energy to do at this point.

But if you could dothatagain...

That moment on the sand suddenly occupies my brain by force, and I'm powerless to put up any resistance. What would happen if Airos had wanted to fuck me? What would happen if I had let him?