“Do you hear that, Kadan?”
Kadan turned to look down at the young man huddled against him, wrapping the blanket tighter around the both of them. His younger brother was the spitting image of his mother. With skin lighter than some of the village maidens’ and rosy pink features that the village elder once described as “made for sin,” Kiran was teased incessantly by the men in the village. Such a beautiful face would never be cut out for men’s work, they’d said, and so Kiran elected to work under the healers in spite of the fact that he had the soul of a fighter.
Kadan, on the other hand, was much more handsome than he was beautiful, though not by far. His father always said it was because of how much he loved their mother that the two of them looked so much like her.
Having to constantly prove one’s worth, however, made Kadan weary and think that his outward appearance was more a curse than it was a blessing. Especially in these trying times.
“What is it?” Kadan asked, patting his younger brother on the shoulder. “What are you hearing?”
“The omen owls are hooting. Don’t you hear them?”
Kadan frowned. “Kiran, you do know that it’s a dangerous sign to hear the omen owls.”
Kiran’s eyebrows furrowed. The unmistakable sign of fear was clear in those cocoa-bean-brown eyes of his. “I know, big brother.”
Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Kadan listened more closely to his surroundings. It was faint, but Kiran was right. There was the sound of hooting echoing through the woods.
An ill portent, if there ever was one.
Kadan cleared his throat. “Go to bed, Kiran. If there’s any danger, you know the crier will tell us.”
“Unless they get to him first,” Kiran replied grimly. “It’s always the village crier who gets cut down first, big brother. Why do you think people are reluctant to train for the job nowadays?”
“Smart mouths get fed last,” Kadan retorted. “Now go to sleep, brother. I’ll keep watch for us tonight.”
Kiran looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not sure our home is going to provide us any protection if there happens to be an attack tonight,” he said, sounding obviously unconvinced as he waved a hand around their hut-like dwelling. “Or any night, for that matter.”
But he curled up on the floor, laying his head against the sack of soft grains he’d been using as a pillow, and turning away from Kadan. It was definitely very Kiran-like to want to have the last word in the conversation.
Kadan merely rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics. The momentary distraction was welcome, however, because if the omen owls were hooting, it only meant that trouble was brewing, and Kadan definitely didn’t want any trouble tonight.
He turned to look at the horizon. Each of the homes in the village was beginning to douse their own flames. Only the night watchmen were holding up their torches as they traveled around the stone walls that helped protect their home. The glimmer of actually-forged spears glinted under the light of the fire as they traveled along the perimeter of the village.
To live so close to the edge of the village was daunting. Kadan despised it. They were one of the first to receive the brunt of an attack if any ever happened. He didn’t know what spirits possessed his mother and father to have them live so close to the edge of the village, but it was a price they had already paid when the village was attacked only a few months back.
The sudden loss was painful, and it had changed Kadan and Kiran’s lives forever. Still, they knew not to dwell on it. It would dishonor their parents’ memory to have the two of them stagnate because of their sadness.
Kadan realized that the only thing he needed to do was to protect his brother. They only had each other now, after all.
In the forests that surrounded them, Kadan could see the faint flickering of soft, yellow lights. Perhaps they were fireflies, or some sort of insect. Some may have been predators stalking through the night. Whatever the case, they were as safe as they could be behind their walls, and inside their home.
But to be as safe as one could be given the circumstances still wasn’t actually very safe at all.
Kadan didn’t want to fall asleep. He was tired, yes, but he wanted a clear head if anything happened that night.
Still, the call of sleep was too much to bear for a growing young man. As his eyelashes fluttered to a close, he gripped his spear even tighter against his body. He continued to pray his little prayer, closing and squeezing his eyes tight. Hopefully, the gods would hear and answer his plea.
Please don’t let there be a raid in the village tonight.
“Maybe you should be my bodyguard,” Arik said, trying to be helpful but only succeeding in making Kadan grin. Arik pressed up against him and kissed at his neck. “We can look at this with a clear mind, my little spitfire, but I’m sure we have to let go of some stress first. Please?”
Then Arik walked up the steps to his living chambers. Their living chambers.
Gods. In spite of the flurry of emotions inside of both of them, tempestuous like a blizzard, they both wanted this. They wanted each other right then and there.
So naturally, Kadan gave in. Not without first rolling his eyes, of course. “Fine. But later—”
“Later we can talk about what you want to do for the tribe. Together. But now…I need to make love to you, my little spitfire.”
Throwing caution to the wind, Kadan followed him up the stairs towards their now-shared living chambers, and when the door closed, Kadan found himself pushed against the wall, Arik’s lips pressing against his. Arik clasped his hands around his mate’s wrists, placing them above his head as Arik pushed his tongue into Kadan’s mouth, claiming him.
Kadan immediately allowed Arik in and, though he squirmed at their closeness, settled against the wall. Arik had slowly brought both of his arms above his head, removing his loincloth almost immediately and wrapping the fabric around Kadan’s wrists without so much as a second thought.
They’d made love plenty of times in the past few days, more than twice a day, even, and to feel Arik claim mastery over him made Kadan’s toes curl.
He started to be thankful that Arik’s servants seemed to be constantly replenishing the little boat of oil they’d been using every day for their lovemaking.
Either way, their frantic pace hadn’t stopped. Kadan found himself with his face pressed against the wall, his back now pressed up against his lover. “I’m going to have to make sure you know that your place in my life is permanent and important, my little spitfire.”
With that said, Arik slathered one hand with oil, pumping his heavily erect shaft with it, all the while pressing the tip of cock against Kadan’s hole.
Kadan could only push his rear back in response, smiling. He could feel the spade-like tip push against his pucker, slathering Arik’s warm, slick, copious pre-cum all over the ring of his rear. He licked his lips. He could feel his heart thunder inside his chest.
Their constant sex had helped loosen him up, especially when Arik locked himself in place with his knot. It made it easier to make love, definitely, and it felt really good to have Arik cuddle up against him. Dragons were just…amazing.
With how the past few days had been, and how often they’d spent them intertwined in each other’s arms, it didn’t take long for Kadan to feel the slick, wet, inferno-like heat of Arik’s dick to push into his ass. He was enveloped by the pleasurable sensations once more. Inch after inch of that solid, throbbing length, with its ridges rubbing up inside him. No matter how many times they did it, it always felt like the first time. Just as good as always, especially when he felt Arik’s body press up against him. It felt as though his dragon was dominating him.
The lines of their bodies were pressed against each other. Arik’s hard, muscular chest was braced against his back, and Kadan could feel the tightening of every muscle on his body when he nudged his hips back, and then surged forward.
“Do you feel that, my little spitfire?” Arik asked. Kadan turned his head slightly. “That’s how much I want you. How much I’ll always want you.”
“Then take me already,” Kadan almost demanded, but the words only spurred Arik on, making him push his body down against Arik until every inch of their bodies were pressed up against each other. Arik’s lips were so close to Kadan’s ear that he could hear every hitch in the dragon’s breath, and he could even feel the throbbing of Arik’s heart like a tribal war drum.
But the best part was feeling Arik’s not-oil-slick hand move from his shoulder, up to where his wrists were bound above his head. He grabbed onto Kadan with one hand, and placed a feather-light kiss against his temple.
Then, with one carefully aimed stroke of Arik’s hips, Kadan gasped.
It felt so good whenever Arik pushed himself inside. Like the perfect fit to the emptiness inside of Kadan, Arik’s cock pushed past his defenses with an audible, slick little sound, and then his other hand went straight for Kadan’s chest, grasping at the necklace he was wearing.
“I already have you, my little spitfire,” Arik whispered against Kadan’s ear. “I love you.”