Moon Spell

Their gazes locked as Ashwood glanced over his shoulder. Even in the darkened room, Bellamy could see his eyes were wide and searching, and he couldn’t take it, had to connect their mouths as well as their bodies. He was certain Ashwood noticed the metallic aftertaste on his tongue as he moaned deeply, setting off sparks in Bellamy’s groin.

Bellamy’s thrusts slowed, grew uneven, and he unloaded his seed inside him, Ashwood capturing all his sounds as he shuddered through the kiss, their mouths still fused together. The room whited out as the most perfect of his dreams and fantasies married together.

Once he came back to himself, he realized Ashwood was resting all his weight on him, moments away from collapse. He gingerly scooped him into his arms and carried him to the bed, hoping he would stay with him for one more night.

As soon as they were lying chest to back, this time with Bellamy embracing him from behind, all the tension from earlier finally seeped from his body. Silence descended upon the room, interrupted briefly as Ashwood murmured something, blindly reaching for his hand, then bringing it to rest against his abdomen, right where the worst of the scars were.

Bellamy kissed the place where his teeth had sunk into Ashwood’s skin, only to discover it was already healed. He felt warm and safe and so replete that sleep began to drag him into his dreams.

He only stirred briefly when Ashwood climbed out of bed to dress in the wee morning hours, and he vaguely thought it was for the best to make sure the room next door looked slept in. The bed dipped as Ashwood hovered over him, and he felt soft lips at his ear as Ashwood adjusted the bed linens over him. “You’re right that I belong to you. No one will ever compare, and that will be my curse to bear for all eternity.”

He heard the soft snick of the door opening and closing, and the bed felt instantly empty without him.

Chapter 18

The following morning, they met their driver and coach for the return journey home. He was relieved that Ashwood was acting perfectly normal after what had transpired between them the previous day. Bellamy was still trembling with the idea of finally having him—and Ashwood wanting him just as bad. He would never forget their passionate and tender night together, and though the memory was heart-wrenching, he would not regret it.

Once they were settled inside the coach and on their way, he double-checked to make sure the chain with his mother’s ring was firmly around his neck. He kept his hand against his chest as if the object was producing calming sensations. And perhaps it was because he felt more serene around Ashwood than he had before. Another notch of closure between them, he supposed.

He would not allow those other melancholy feelings to burst through—not yet. He knew full well this would be their last ride together before reality intruded.

Halfway through the journey, he felt Ashwood’s ankle brush against his own, making him shiver, and Ashwood said, “I want to thank you for last night.”

His cheeks flushed in surprise. Was he really going to mention it in detail? “Need we rehash it? We both know what that was.”

“Yes, desire and need,” Ashwood replied, and Bellamy felt disappointed that he sounded so perfunctory. But wasn’t that exactly what he’d requested from him—to lighten the drama? “That’s not what I’m referring to though.”

“Then what is it?”

He shifted on the seat to unbutton his waistcoat, then began pulling his shirt from his breeches.

The action startled Bellamy, and he glanced out the window to ensure no one was in sight. “What are you—”

“Shh, I’m not trying to be obscene. Allow me a moment.”

Bellamy swallowed thickly, giving him the opportunity to twist in his seat and lift the fabric to expose his skin. All he saw was the smooth expanse of his lower back, and he blinked in shock.

“It didn’t occur to me while it was happening. I was otherwise occupied,” Ashwood said with a smirk. “But that bite you graced me with…healed me.”

“It did what?” As if he could not fathom such a thing, he stretched out to trace his fingers along his skin, creating gooseflesh on Ashwood’s back.

“Perhaps not the worst of it, on my stomach.” He winced, perhaps recalling the attack or feeling its aftereffects. “But my leg doesn’t ache as much now.”

“I…I…am not sure what to think,” he sputtered. “I suppose I’m glad I could use my wolf for something good.”

My, how his thinking had been turned upside down. Never would he have imagined uttering such words.

They grinned at each other as Ashwood tucked himself back in, and Bellamy suppressed the urge to go to him one last time, to press their shoulders together and feel his heat. He stayed seated across from him. Besides, Ashwood was a stunning specimen to look upon from his vantage point. He planned to burn every feature into his memory.