Page 17

Chapter 17

How are you expecting to get home after all the glasses you just downed?” Rowan asked. Krampusnacht rolled on in a symphony of laughter and dancing that had spilled into the streets while he and Ivy sat in the corner of the shop. Callum vanished into the crowd willingly, he and Finn continuing their act, now expanding it to Krampus, his brother, and his boyfriend who needed a break to rest his leg.

Ivy poured herself another round, wiggling her behind to the music. “Easy. We’re staying in town. The shop has a nice little room in the back set up in case of getting snowed in. And I want to cut loose tonight.”

Rowan blinked. “Finn is all right with that?”

“He’s come to town a bunch of times with me. Sometimes in disguise, sometimes invisible.” She topped off Rowan’s glass. “I think he’s starting to like it.”

“Huh,” was all he could muster. He scanned the crowd for Callum. He wasn’t hard to find, considering he stood a foot taller than everyone else, horns included. He galloped after Hazel and her friends, corralling them towards Finn only to let them duck under his arms in escape. Then he’d shake his fists in the air, bellowing, “Curse you! You have outsmarted me!” before going after them once more.

“You have it so bad.” Ivy gave Rowan a nudge, expression impish.

Rowan tried to hide his smile by taking a drink. “Not that bad.”

“Can’t lie to me,” Ivy chuckled. “You have been floating around like a fairy king since last night. And you lit up like a roman candle when Callum marched into the herd of Krampus…Krampi?” She furrowed her brow looking into her glass. “What do you call a gaggle of Krampus?”

“Good question.” Rowan rubbed his chin. “A torture of Krampus? A chaos of Krampus? Oh wait, I got it. A childhood trauma of Krampus.”

“A lashing of Krampus,” Ivy snapped her wrist. “Whoosh-crack!”

The memory of Callum’s sinister sneer as he waved his false whip made Rowan’s pants shrink two sizes. “Um, don”t say lashing.”

“Oh sorry. My bad,” Ivy giggled. “A horny of Krampus.” Rowan rolled his eyes and she cackled. “Try as you might to change the subject, I’ll always boomerang on back. Admit it, you’re smitten.”

Dammit, Ivy was right. Rowan had been smitten with Callum since they’d first met. The only difference now was he lacked his usual defenses against falling head over heels. Now here he was, spinning out of control with no emergency brake. And if Callum left, I’d be alone. His belly twisted, making his wine taste sour.

“And you’re fighting it.” Ivy added, finishing her glass.

“I’m taking it slow,” Rowan corrected, groping for the talisman that was no longer there.

“Which in Rowan speak translates to fighting it.” Ivy dabbed her wine-stained lips with the back of her hand. “Listen, I’m not trying to shame you or anything. You have your reasons. I’m just trying to give you a little shove in the right direction.”

“And what makes you think moving back to Big Bear, and hooking up with a satyr is the right direction?” The smirk Ivy shot at him said it all. Even if she hadn’t said it, she knew it as well as Rowan did. “Okay. Point taken. I had a rough year and moving all a sudden was a bad idea.”

“You had a rough few years, starting with the accident then ending with thinking one sister dead and the other one dying. I get it. You ran. I truly understand how that feels.” Ivy kissed his cheek. “Just take Callum’s advice and be nice to yourself?”

She sauntered off, grabbing Finn’s wrist and leading him to the throng of dancing bodies. The satyr instantly held her close, bending his tall form to press his forehead to hers. Rowan’s mouth quivered. Love. That was love. And it both melted his heart and tore it wide open. He wanted that. No grand gestures or declarations. No feats of strength of outlandish gifts. Just holding hands. Just…being there for each other. And if you stopped fighting it, you could have it.

Callum lifted Hazel into his arms, giving her a little twirl. Rowan’s chest tightened as he watched the two dance and frolic, not one ounce of fright in the satyr’s eyes. Gods, if something happened to Callum Rowan would be lost. Sensing his gaze, Callum turned towards him with a shattering smile. He walked over, Hazel still sitting on his hip. “My apprentice would like to write me letters,” he said.

“Apprentice?” Rowan looked between their conspiratorial nods.

“I’m going to be a Krampus instead of a hedge witch,” Hazel replied. “It’s more fun. But I gotta write him letters to get lessons so, I need your address.”

“Can you give her that, Witch-boy?” Callum asked.

This was the same satyr who turned white at the idea of even breathing the same air as another witch. Now here he was, bouncing a witchling on his hip and demanding they be pen-pals. Rowan coughed to disguise his laughter. “You can use the shop’s address. I’ll make sure he gets the letters.”

Hazel narrowed her eyes. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” Rowan swiped an x across his chest.

“There. I told you he would solve the problem. He always does.” The stars in Callum’s mismatched eyes made Rowan’s knees quake, and he wasn’t even standing. He lowered Hazel to her feet, giving her pigtails a pat. “Off to your mother now. I must care for my Witch-boy.”

“Good night, Krampus!” Hazel squeezed Callum’s waist tight doing the same to Rowan. “Good night, Krampus’s boyfriend!” Off she skipped, joining her friends.

“So, you have a pen-pal now?”

Callum puckered his lips, as if trying to decipher what a pen-pal was, then shrugged, giving up. “The girl wanted to correspond, and I know how to read and write.”

“It’s sweet. “Rowan shook his head. “And unbelievable. Just a few hours ago you were planning on waiting at home for me for the rest of your life.”

“I suppose even a stubborn, broken satyr can change.”

“Callum, you’re stubborn, but you’re not broken.” Rowan patted his cheek. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re great as is.”

“Splendid is a better word.”

Rowan laughed. “Okay, we’ll go with that.” Callum took his hand, brushing his knuckles with a gentle kiss. Every nerve in Rowan’s body ignited. Hecate have mercy, he is so good at that. He cleared his throat. “What was that for?”

“For everything tonight,” Callum replied.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Callum pressed another kiss to his hand. “You encouraged me to enjoy this wonderful festival.” Gently, he turned his hand over, lips brushing his palm. “You stayed by my side and ensured my safety.” When his fangs grazed his wrist, Rowan shivered. “You are a marvel, Witch-boy.”

Rowan held his glass up to Callum’s lips before he could move up further. If he did, he’d be grinding on the satyr like a stray dog, and this was a family event. “Here. Finish this up. I’m driving tonight so I’m at my limit.”

“Very well,” Callum laughed, taking a long pull.

A familiar icy touch tickled the back of Rowan’s neck, tickling each vertebra. Something whispered to him, a weak, rasping voice that said “Miiiine.” Rowan spun around, only to find a cluster of pillar candles and boughs of pine. No. It”s not here. Relax.

“Witch-boy?” Callum turned him back towards him, brows tangled with worry.

Rowan spared another glance over his shoulder. The chill was gone, and the only voices were those of the party goers. He rubbed his forehead. “Nothing. I think the wine just got to my head.”

“I can see that. This is a fine brew.” Callum finished off the drink, tongue flicking against the rim of the glass to catch the final drop. Rowan gulped. All thoughts of the shade vanished, replaced by that wicked tongue. “It would taste even better taken from your lips, Witch-boy.”

Rowan wet his mouth knowing he should take a step backwards. This is a family event. A family event! But Callum’s heat was too enticing, and his delicious scent irresistible. Fuck it.You’re finally enjoying yourself. You’re actually happy. Embrace it. “I know you’re having a good time tonight but-”

“Time for an exit?” Callum grabbed Rowan’s hand, pulling him towards the door while shouting to the crowd. “The Krampus bids you all a good night!”

***

The drive back home was quick, yet the journey up the twisting roads felt like eternity while Callum’s desire to bury himself deep into Rowan plagued him. Callum buried his face against the crook of Rowan’s neck, inhaling the clean, crisp, scent of him. So bright and warm. Summer after the longest winter Callum had ever endured. He couldn’t stop himself from tasting the salt of his neck. Soon they were parked in the drive and hurrying up the porch steps.

Rowan’s keys rattled as he struggled to unlock the door as Callum ran his hands under his sweater and up his torso. “You’re not making this easy,” his voice cracked as he missed the lock repeatedly.

Callum shot a glare at the threshold. “Then I should I fuck you in the woods from now on.” The lock clicked and the door swinging open on its own. He smirked, “I knew that would work.”

They tumbled inside, in a ruckus of foot falls, hoof clacks, and rattling brass bells. Callum kicked the door closed behind them, tossing Rowan against it. His cock throbbed as he caged him in with his arms. Rowan kissed him hard, sucking, biting, his tongue delving deep, hands taking a tight hold of his ass. He was hard beneath his trousers, each stroke releasing clatters of bells. Callum paid it no mind as he yanked the witch’s sweater over his head. Gods, he was so hot, heaving against his palms, nipples hardening beneath his fingers.

Rowan arching into his touch. He fumbled with sleigh bells around Callum’s waist, each tug eliciting a loud jingle. “Dammit how do I get this thing off?!” Callum loosened the buckle and it hit the floor with a grand clatter that rattled the house. “Thank Hecate!”

Rowan grabbed Callum’s hips, teeth sunk into his lower lip. The sharp tug made Callum growl. Ivy and his brother had no intentions of coming home tonight. He could fuck his Witch-boy right here if he wished.

The creak of an opening door made Callum’s ears swivel. He stiffened, pushing Rowan away as Aster’s sleepy voice called, “Hello?”

“Shit. I forgot she was home.” Rowan pressed his forehead to Callum’s chest, face hot. “It’s just us, Azzie,” he answered. “Callum and I are home.”

“What was that noise?” she asked.

Rowan was bright red as he meekly replied. “Um…Callum’s sleigh balls, I mean, bells.”

Callum watched the stairs, expecting Aster to come rushing down and demanding details. Instead, she replied, “Okay, goodnight, then! And I’ll sleep with earplugs tonight so have at it!”

“Will do!” Callum shouted back.

The door closed and silence resumed. Well, until Rowan burst out laughing. “Will do?”

“Did you have other plans?” Callum scooped Rowan up and slung him over a shoulder, cackling at the witch’s shout of surprise. “No. You didn’t.”

He bounded up the stairs, two at a time. As soon as they were safely ensconced in Rowan’s room, he yanked the witch-boy’s waistband open. By the Goddess, he was beautiful; fiery hair tousled, mouth swollen with his kisses, and freckles bright against his moon touched skin.

“Not going to lie,” Rowan panted. “The Krampus costume was fucking hot.”

“Was it now?” Callum asked. “The costume or me?”

Rowan shuddered. “You. You’re definitely better than sleigh bells.” The corner of Rowan’s mouth twitched into a smile.

“Indeed.” Callum grinned. “And you want me.”

Desire poured from Rowan, drenching Callum in its waves. “More than anything.”

Callum clutched his nape, jerking his head back to meet his gaze, Rowan’s blue eyes bright as Summer. “Tell me what you want tonight.”

“You,” Rowan replied, He reached for him again, but Callum snared his wrist, pinning them on the wall over his head.

“Specifics.” Callum flicked his tongue over the pulse in Rowan’s throat. “Shall I pin you down and ride you hard? Feed my cock between those plump lips and demand you suck until I come?” Rowan shuddered, eyes fluttering closed. Sweat beaded across his collarbone, his hands fisting tight. “Ah, you like it when I command you, Witch-boy? Then I’ll I take charge of you. Tonight, you belong to me. Only me.” Callum freed a hand to shimmy Rowan’s pants from his hips. He pulled the witch’s cock free, and it pulsed in his palm, moisture beading at its tip. “That’s what you want, yes?”

“Yes,” Rowan moaned.

“And you’ll be my good little Witch-boy and obey.”

“Yes.”

Callum shut his eyes, reveling in Rowan’s closeness, his scent. His warmth. “Kiss me.”

Rowan’s kiss was delicate, trembling and so very delicious. Callum gave him a stroke in reward, a restrained whimper sputtering from Rowan’s clenched lips as his hips bucked. “Don’t hold back. Not tonight. Not with me. I want to hear you bellow to the rafters, Witch-boy.”

Rowan’s mouth trembled. “I…I will.”

He led them to their tree, Callum sitting to untie his loincloth. It was tossed aside and Rowan fixed on his shaft, licking his lips. “Hands behind your back.” Quickly, Rowan tucked them in place, that beautiful blush staining from head to toe. Flushed from shyness? Lust? Either way the witch was eager to please.

Callum gestured to the floor before him. “Kneel.” He took himself in hand, an offering to his witch-boy. “ Kneel and suck me.”

Rowan obeyed, his lips sliding over the head of Callum’s cock. Glorious wet heat surrounded him, and he groaned as Rowan teased his slit with gentle flicks of his tongue. Then he covered him, sliding Callum’s length deep. Callum cupped the back of Rowan’s head unable to stop from thrusting. Gods he was paradise. “More.”

Rowan took him further, his lips meeting the dark curls at Callum’s groin. His low growl shook his throat, the vibrations bursting along Callum’s cock. So delicious. So perfect. His balls tightened, his seed rising with every slick movement of Rowan’s lips. Closer. Closer.

“Enough!” Callum pulled Rowan away, regaining himself before he erupted. He longed to see his beautiful witch drink him down. But not tonight.

Rowan panted, his cock as hard as stone and drenched in his own precum. The way he ran his tongue across his lips was pure sin as he waited for Callum’s next command. The teasing Witch-boy.

Callum rose to circle him. He ran his tail across Rowan’s chest, gooseflesh rising in its wake. “You loved the idea of my lash, didn’t you?” When Rowan nodded, he snapped the brush of his tail along his backside, eliciting the most delicious cry of delight Callum had ever heard. “Then I’ll indulge you.”

Callum knelt behind Rowan, bending him over the fallen tree. A slap of his tail hit, raising a red welt on the witch’s ass. Rowan moaned, knuckles whitening. Another slap and Rowan’s moan turned into a shout. He spread his knees, laying his cheek against their tree. “Please?”

Callum lashed again and Rowan thrust his hips; jaw clenched. He presented himself for more. And more. And more still until his ass was completely red and he was gasping. “Gods, I want you.” he begged. “Please, Callum. Please. I need you.”

“Tell me,” Callum growled, giving him another lash.

“Fuck me!” Rowan cried, every inch of him pulsing with need. “Please just fuck me!” He was a man possessed, flush faced and mouth trembling with desire.

Callum smiled. “That’s my good Witch-boy.” He dug through his discarded pouch for his bottle of lubrication, slickening his cock before sliding his coated finger between Rowan’s cheeks.

“Oh Gods.” Rowan clutched his wrists even tighter, as Callum coated his rim, fingers sliding in and out before pouring the concoction down his ass. Rowan pushed against his hand, pleasure hissing from between his teeth. He was so eager, so wanting and vulnerable. And all Callum wanted was to give his witch the pleasure he deserved.

Callum placed one hand on Rowan’s hip, the other slowly guiding his cock inside. “Rowan,” Callum groaned. The witch was so tight, his outer ring taking his cock with every frantic breath that puffed his chest. Callum pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. “You feel incredible.”

Rowan rolled his hips, pushing him even deeper. “Gods, so do you.”

Callum’s tail snaked between Rowan’s legs, wrapping around his shaft. He stroked as they found their rhythm, Rowan’s jaw tight as he arched. Callum collared his neck pulling him back to take his mouth. “Say my name,” he murmured through his kiss.

“Callum,” Rowan cried. His name on Rowan’s lips was like a siren’s song.

Callum wrapped his arms around him, pinning him against his chest as he thrust into his slick heat. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Rowan nipped at his lips “I’m yours! Gods, I’m yours!”.

Callum pounded harder faster. His tail tight, determined to stoke every drop from him.

“I’m going to come,” Rowan whimpered. “Gods, Callum!” He howled as he exploded, his hot thick seed drenching his tail, coating his chest.

The sounds of his ecstasy were too much to bear. Callum roared. Pleasure, love, worship, it all poured from him as he followed his beloved Witch-boy into the abyss. Callum belonged to him. He would forever be his.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the sounds of their panting overpowering the crackling fire. Soon they slowed, Callum showering Rowan’s slick back with kisses. With reluctance, he pulled free, turning Rowan’s head to press one long kiss to his trembling mouth. Rowan crawled into Callum’s lap, wrapping his arms around him.

“You make me feel whole again,” Callum confessed.

Tears filled Rowan’s eyes, mouth quivering. “You…you make me feel whole, too.” He sniffed back the emotion with a chuckle. “Glad we kept the fuck tree.”

Callum laughed. “Agreed.” He pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I should clean you up.”

“In a minute. I’m enjoying this.” Rowan curled against him. They lay in silence, Rowan’s heartbeat soothing him into stillness Callum didn’t want to leave this place of peace. This wonderful shelter of Rowan’s body. His mate. Maybe someday Rowan would say the word he longed to hear. Maybe someday they would be bound together in love. And Callum’s heart and soul would belong to this magnificent Witch-boy for the rest of his days when that day came. Until then, Callum squeezed him tight. I’ll keep you safe, Rowan. I will die before you come to harm. My love. My home. “My Rowan.”