Daniel had looked untamed and half mad standing on the edge of the camp
watching Harry as if he were stalking his prey. Harry knew he needed to gentle
him, and had been planning to argue, cajole, beg for a kiss, but he hadn’t
needed to. For the first time Daniel came to him. And it was as glorious as
he’d thought it would be.
Daniel felt exotic and dangerous, as if he were a wild
animal leashing the violence within him for Harry. It was a heady thought. But
Daniel also felt familiar and so, so dear to him. For a brief moment he was
afraid to touch him, afraid to press his mouth against Daniel’s and open his
lips and thrust his tongue inside as he’d been longing to do. And then he
remembered it was Daniel, and he liked it that way, liked Harry to ravage him
like that. And so he gripped the back of Daniel’s head, his dark curls a silky
tease against his palm and between his fingers, held him tight against his
mouth and proceeded to devour him. Daniel tasted sweet and then he moaned and
his desperation was like dark, heavy wine on Harry’s tongue.
Daniel ripped his mouth away, gasping for air, and Harry
pressed his lips to Daniel’s neck, tasted the salty tang of sweat and fear.
“Harry,” Daniel said, his voice so tired it made Harry ache.
“I’m here,” he whispered. It had been like this the last few
times, ever since he’d started going out on missions again. Daniel needed him.
It was exhilarating. Harry had never been needed like this before. If the
circumstances were different he’d revel in it. Instead he lived in fear every
waking moment they weren’t together. He hated what Daniel did now. When he’d
chased him through the woods that night, seeking adventure, it had excited him.
Now it sickened him. This life was killing Daniel. And Harry couldn’t see how
to stop it. He had no right to. He didn’t own Daniel. Hell, he didn’t even own
himself. He had promises to keep and a future mapped out for him. One that
didn’t include Daniel. But he didn’t, couldn’t, care. Not when he held Daniel
in his arms like this, craving his need and his surrender.
“I need you, Harry,” Daniel whispered, gripping the edge of
Harry’s lapel in his fist. “I need to have you.”
“You can have me. You know that.” Harry bit Daniel’s earlobe
and sucked on it. Daniel loved that. He smiled as Daniel moaned.
“You don’t understand,” Daniel said, shoving him away
unexpectedly. Harry stumbled a bit, but Daniel caught his wrist and steadied
him. “I need to be inside you tonight, Harry.”
Harry paused, suddenly uncertain. It wasn’t that he was
opposed to it, he’d just never done it and was a little concerned he wouldn’t
be very good at it. After all, it was clear Daniel was in dire straits tonight,
and Harry didn’t feel up to that challenge.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I mean, I don’t think it will be what
you need. Want. It won’t work. For you.” He sounded like a ninny.
“You don’t understand,” Daniel said, and he sounded as if he
were gritting his teeth. “I don’t care. I want it. That’s what I want.”
Harry opened his mouth to protest again, but shut it immediately.
He wanted to be here for Daniel, didn’t he? And Daniel certainly enjoyed being
on the receiving end of a prick. Why shouldn’t he? There didn’t seem to be much
to it, actually. “All right,” he said.
The words were barely out before Daniel was on him. He undid
Harry’s falls so quickly Harry feared he’d lost a button or two. Daniel pushed
him toward the nearest tree and Harry caught himself on his hands. They’d been
out in these woods so often lately the feel of bark under Harry’s palms was an
old friend. Daniel pressed on his shoulders and Harry went to his knees facing
the tree.
“Like that,” Daniel muttered. Harry looked over his shoulder
and saw Daniel pulling off his jacket and then his cravat and shirt, tossing
them aside recklessly. He was in a bad way tonight. He loosened
Marco Malvaldi, Howard Curtis