Page 15 of Lord of Ruin (The Age of Blood #2)

Chapter Nine

Isaac

I saac watched Shan leave with his heart in his hands, wishing he knew the right combination of words and actions to reach her.

But Shan had built herself up so strong and proud that he might as well have been reaching for a statue carved of ice, all his pretty words falling like dust at her feet.

No matter how desperately he wished to mend their bridges, there was an entire chasm between them.

He had helped dig it just as much as she had, through actions great and small, and he would regret that for the rest of his life.

So, he just stared at the closed door between them, listening wordlessly as she spoke with Anton and Bart, the trio of them disappearing out into the night, leaving him behind again.

Well, at least he wasn’t alone. Samuel had remained with him, still nestled close and resting his head on Isaac’s shoulder.

It was a comfort that Isaac knew he did not deserve, and as much as he wanted it—as much as he wanted so much more—there were too many unresolved hurts that they needed to address first. And just like with Shan, the blame was his to bear.

More so, even, because Samuel had never done anything to earn Isaac’s cruel side.

He closed his eyes, took a deep steadying breath, then turned to Samuel. “We should talk.”

Samuel didn’t respond for a moment, just dragged his gloved fingers against the soft skin along the inside of Isaac’s wrist. It was such a strange touch, separated not by claws but a thin layer of cloth, the silken glide raising gooseflesh on his skin. “If you’d like.”

It was an opening, an out, and some craven part of Isaac wanted to seize upon it.

To bury the pain in the past where it belonged.

But he was wise enough to know that there was nothing worse than letting it fester, and he would not lose Samuel to his own cowardice in the same way he was so close to losing Shan.

“I would,” Isaac breathed, taking Samuel’s hand in his. He ran his thumb along the edge of the glove, slipping it underneath to the warmth of bare flesh. “May I?”

Samuel’s hand landed on his, holding it fast. “You don’t have to do this, Isaac.”

“I do.” It hurt him more than he thought it would, but he had to see it for himself. He had to understand what he had done to Samuel if he could ever begin to ask for forgiveness.

Because without that, whatever this was between them had to come to an end.

“Fine,” Samuel agreed, at last, pulling away. “But know that I do not blame you. You did what you had to do.”

Samuel rose, turning away from the bed as he removed the gloves, laying them on the low wooden dresser that Anton had been kind enough to stock with simple clothes for him. Isaac looked away as he heard Samuel shift, pulling his shirt from his trousers.

Ah, this was how it was going to be, then.

Isaac would have to grapple with the full extent of the wounds he left on Samuel’s body, the mistakes of his hubris and his desperation to prove himself.

The Aberforth Gift was a weight that Samuel should not have had to bear, but it had not been Isaac’s decision to make.

The shirt fluttered to the floor as Samuel inched closer to the bed, his bare fingers brushing against Isaac’s cheek. “Look at me, love.”

Isaac allowed himself to be guided, his gaze caught on the full expanse of bare flesh in front of him.

Yes, the after-effects of his Blood Working still lived on, deep, dark scars following the lines of Samuel’s veins, each and every artery sketched out on skin pale like ivory.

It created a map that Isaac wanted to follow, tracing every line with his tongue, even though he was the villain that had put them there.

He twisted his fingers into the bed sheets to keep from reaching out, but Samuel only smiled down at him, daring Isaac to look his fill.

There was a softness to Samuel’s body, now, the life and wealth of his found family allowing him to fill out more, and Isaac wanted to explore each and every inch of it.

But Samuel’s hand drifted to his trousers, slung low across his hips, his thumb brushing against the soft trail of fair hair as his fingers toyed with the button.

“There is more to see, if you are interested.”

“Samuel.” Isaac ground out his name with a growl, but Samuel only smiled, the teasing edge replaced by something softer. The same gentleness and kindness that Isaac had been so desperately smitten with in the first place, treating him with compassion that he did not deserve.

“There is no need for you to restrain yourself,” Samuel said, sinking to his knees at the edge of the bed. The shift brought them eye to eye, close enough to touch.

Isaac still held himself back. “I need you to know that I am sorry.” The confession spilled from him, a jumble of words and wants with little sense. “I should not have done it in that way, I only meant to—”

He was stopped by the press of Samuel’s mouth to his, all his words swallowed as Samuel tangled his hands in his hair.

“I know,” Samuel whispered back. “I did not want that power, anyway…” He let out a deep sigh of relief.

“I am truly glad that it is gone. As for your methods, I forgive you. I will say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

The dam that was his self-control crumbled at last, and Isaac pulled Samuel onto the bed with him, spread his thighs so that Samuel could nestle between them. Samuel laughed, catching himself on either side of Isaac, his weight a comforting pressure.

“You’re too good to me,” Isaac swore, allowing himself to finally feel all that skin, tracing his fingers through the soft, barely perceptible hair along Samuel’s chest.

“Somebody has to be,” Samuel breathed. “And I am more than willing to be that man.”

If there was one thing that Isaac had regretted, all those months in his cell, it was that he had never had a chance to know Samuel like this.

Their timing had been poor, the very world in which they had lived and the magic in both their veins conspiring to keep them apart.

A handful of stolen kisses and promises never fulfilled, but now they were finally together at last.

Isaac caught Samuel’s lips with his, rolling them so that he pressed Samuel back into the mattress.

His hand splayed against Samuel’s chest, holding him firmly in place, and Isaac could feel the thrum of excitement as Samuel’s heartbeat kicked faster.

Hells, Samuel was looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, the pupils so blown that they were swallowing up nearly all the green, and that dark hunger stirred in him again.

That want he dared not face as Samuel bared his throat to the beast, tempted by the vein that throbbed so prettily, plump and full of blood.

Burying his face in the dip between Samuel’s neck and shoulder, Isaac bit down on muscle with blunt teeth. “Can I touch you?” he begged, desperate to trade one hunger for another, even as Samuel squirmed beneath him.

“I think I might die if you don’t,” Samuel muttered, but kept his hands firmly clenched at his side.

Biting his lip, he stared up at Isaac through his eyelashes, looking suddenly unsure.

“But… is there anything I should know? Any way you won’t like to be touched?

Any things you would not like me to do? Words I should not say? ”

“Oh.” Isaac rocked back on his heels, giving them both some space as the kindness of Samuel’s asks hit him.

Truly, he hadn’t stopped to think about it—his lovers had been few and far between, and with Shan it had been different.

She had been with him when he had begun transitioning, had learned the ways of his body and his pleasure along with him, but Samuel did not have the same base of knowledge.

Still, he was touched by the question, dipping forward to press a gentle kiss on Samuel’s brow. “You’re sweet, darling, and I appreciate that. I am fairly easy to please, but if you’d like details…”

He shifted off the bed, standing proudly in front of Samuel, the feeling of being so on display sending frissons of desire to his core.

Pulling his shirt off, Isaac tossed it to the ground where it landed on top of Samuel’s.

Anton had been unable to provide him with a binder yet, something that Isaac did not blame him for in the least, so his small breasts hung free, Samuel’s eyes latching onto them with an immediacy that made Isaac smirk.

“You can touch me here, if you’d like,” Isaac said, raking his fingers through the dark hair his treatments had sprouted across his chest and between his breasts, circling his thumb across his sensitive nipple as a jolt of pleasure shot straight to his rapidly hardening dick.

“You can use your hands, your mouth, even your cock. Or, if you’d prefer… ”

He trailed his other hand down lower, still teasing his nipples in the meantime, but Samuel’s heavy gaze followed the path down until Isaac hooked his thumb in his trousers, taking care to ensure he snagged the edge of his underclothes as well, shoving them down in one motion before he kicked them to the side.

Samuel’s gaze caught on the heat between Isaac’s legs, his tongue peeking out to wet dry lips.

“Or you can touch me here,” Isaac continued, spreading his lower lips to let his cock bob free, hard and straining. He could feel it throb, eager for touch, but he restrained himself, savoring the ache as Samuel stared.

Samuel swallowed hard, and when he spoke, his voice was low and rough with want. “And do you like to be penetrated?”

Isaac hummed to himself as he considered. “Not often,” he admitted. “I like to be sucked, I like to frot, but…”

“That’s okay with me,” Samuel said. “But… I think I would be open to you doing that to me, if you are amenable.”

“Oh, I most certainly am.” The image was burned into his brain just from the suggestion, Samuel splayed open underneath him, taking his strap so sweetly.

He knew he couldn’t do it this night—his cock wasn’t that large, he wouldn’t be able to penetrate Samuel like many other men could, but he was nothing if not creative.

And there was so much fun they would have once they had the right toys, so he needed to make getting them a priority.

“We don’t have the tools for that now,” Isaac purred. “But I’m sure we can think of something.”

He prowled forward and Samuel fell back on the bed, almost instinctively, offering up himself as Isaac slid over him, dragging the heel of his hand against the hard length in his trousers.

Samuel let out a small whimper at the touch, bucking against the stimulation, and oh, was Isaac going to enjoy this.

He had respected the need Samuel had for taking it slow, for ensuring that his gift was managed or contained, but blood and steel, had Isaac wondered how he would be in bed.

If he would be just as needy and desperate as Isaac hoped.

There was a delicious tension bubbling under all their interactions, a heady desire that was always at the edge of boiling over.

And Isaac would not be satisfied until he had all that Samuel was willing to give.

Catching Samuel’s mouth with his, Isaac pulled the other man into a scorching kiss as he worked Samuel’s cock through the scant layers of clothes left between them, using the friction to bring him to full hardness.

“Please,” Samuel babbled, his hands scrabbling at Isaac’s waist. “Please, please, please.”

Isaac couldn’t help himself, he laughed low and dark, charmed by the way Samuel was already unraveling under his touch. “Please what, darling? You need to use your words.”

Samuel’s teeth dug into his lower lip as he blushed, and Isaac was thrilled to see that it spread past his face—his neck and chest turning the same charming shade of pink. “Please,” Samuel begged. “Use me.”

Isaac’s cock twitched. “If you insist.”

He ripped the rest of the man’s clothing off, leaving them both bare, before lowering his face to lap at Samuel’s length.

Samuel keened as Isaac’s tongue made contact with the silky skin, licking up the underside before suckling so gently at the tip.

He leaked into Isaac’s mouth, so wet and eager, and it took all of Isaac’s self-control to not just mount him right there.

This would work perfectly.

Shifting forward, Isaac spread his legs as he hovered over his lover’s waist, positioning Samuel’s cock so that it nestled between his own slick folds.

Rocking back and forth, he spread his own wetness along Samuel’s length, smoothing the glide, before pitching forward to rub his dick against the hardness trapped between them.

It felt so good that Isaac nearly came right there.

But he had waited so long for this, and Samuel’s eyes were wet with tears, his hips jerking forward in harsh, minute thrusts, and Isaac would not let this first time be wasted. He would take Samuel like this, bracing his hands on each side of Samuel’s head, until they both came.

He continued rocking, his muscles burning as he took care to grind his cock against Samuel’s without crushing him.

His breath came in harsh gasps, his words caught somewhere in the back of his throat, but he didn’t need them.

Not when Samuel ran his large hands up his sides until he found Isaac’s tits.

The touch was warm and shocking, Samuel fondling their weight in his palms before catching the nipples between his nails, giving them a sharp tug.

Isaac groaned as the shock went straight to his cunt, leaking even more slick as their rutting grew rougher, more desperate.

Samuel writhed beneath him, more senseless babble falling from his lips as he continued to thrust along the warmth of Isaac’s cunt, as Isaac took and took and took, his pleasure coalescing into a sharp ache.

“Please, I’m… ah… close,” Samuel cried, tossing his head to the side, his neck long and bare and so, so warm.

Snarling, Isaac pressed closer, sinking blunt teeth into the tender flesh off Samuel’s throat and sucking hard—a gentler replacement for the violence he still craved.

And yet, Samuel tensed as he came, his spend splattering between them as Isaac jerked one last time, feeling his cock tremble and throb as he found his own release.

He collapsed to the side, pressed up against Samuel as he pulled the trembling man into his arms. They laid like that for several long minutes, the sweat and the come cooling on their skin, but Isaac did not care.

All he cared about was the steady beat of heart next to him, the contented sigh as Samuel nuzzled into his embrace.

As long as he had Samuel, he could handle whatever came next.