Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

the general and his men had not.
    He heard the sound of leather on rock and started to turn, and then was slammed against the wall of the cave, his skin burning, his head spinning. He gasped, grappling with Sai, his hands digging into the other man's sodden clothing. They wrestled, going to the soft dirt floor, rolling and struggling until Sai's shirt tore away under his hands.
    "Dammit, Sai, let me talk!"
    His answer was a fist to the jaw. Arick fell back, his head slamming hard against the floor. In a flash, Sai was on top of him, raining blows over his face and head. Arick brought up a knee, catching Sai in the diaphragm. As the other man gasped and choked, he slipped away, retreating to the entrance of the cave. He waited, making sure Sai hadn't suffered any serious damage. And then he looked out into the rain.
    Where could he go? The entire mountain was alive with rushing water. The encampment was gone; if there were survivors, they were up on the mountain somewhere. He turned just in time to catch movement from the corner of his eye.
    "Aren't you finished yet?"
    Sai staggered forward, his fists up and his head down. This time, Arick took the fight to him. He was taller but Sai was broader; hitting him was like slamming into a wall. He was magnificent in his rage: fury burned in his blue eyes, his wet hair straggled around his face in chunks and strands. The rain had washed away the dirt and blood, revealing that beautiful, brutal face.
    Distracted, Arick was unprepared when Sai attacked, twisting his arm and slamming him face first into the wall. He grunted in pain at the pressure on his arm. And then a heavy body covered his, an iron-hard cock pressed into the muscle of his ass. In a heartbeat, all the pain vanished, all the fear and despair faded away. The years were as nothing and all he could absorb was that he was pinned to the wall, submissive, willing, and desperate for Sai's touch. He laid his forehead against the chilly rock, stifling a groan.
    Those same hands spun him, pushing him back against the wall and they were face to face, just inches apart. Now lust spiced the fury in Sai's face. A glimmer of pain and despair lurked there as well, and it was all so clear. All these years, Sai had been grieving. All these years, he'd set aside everything to hunt for Arick, and when he found him, it was in the worst possible place: at the wrong end of a sword.
    Arick opened his mouth to speak, but strong hands were in his hair, holding him in place. A solid, heavy body crushed his and his words were blocked by a bruising kiss. Teeth struck, Sai's tongue thrust into his mouth, and the softness of love was absent. The burning embrace held only anger and lust and painful despair. Submitting to Sai's fury, Arick opened his mouth and stopped resisting, no longer fighting, no longer defending himself.
    If Sai wanted to fell him where he stood, he had the right.
    With lips bruised and skin bleeding, he dropped his head back against the wall, eyes falling closed. He reached, stroked a hand along the other man's naked skin, groaning at the memories. So many memories: Sai at his forge, lost in the magical world of fire and steel, water and wind. They were sparring; he was shocked to discover that the Sword Master was a master of swordplay as well. They'd fought side by side more than once, staggering away from the battlefield to fight and fuck and love each other until consciousness slipped away.
    A rough, calloused hand gripped his cock, jerking Arick from his memories. Sai pumped and pulled at him, drawing him to painful erection. He gasped, his knees going weak.
    "Face the wall," Sai growled. Arick obeyed, opening his legs, knowing just how far to spread, how far to bend.
    "Spit." Sai's hand was in front of his face. Arick's mouth suddenly went dry. He swallowed, trying his best to summon the saliva that would spare him a measure of pain.
    The Sword Master didn't bother to finish undressing. Arick heard the rustle of fabric, and then felt the sudden, overwhelming presence of his body, fingers tearing away fabric, probing and thrusting, barely lubed by Arick's spit. He winced and grimaced, but made no sound. The fingers retreated and the head of Sai's cock took their place, pushing, a hard, formidable presence. So familiar. So painful in so many ways.
    He didn't make it all the way in, nor did he last long. Sai went deep enough to sear white-hot pleasure through Arick's body. One hand dug into his hip, the other