Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

flesh, willing the wounds to clean out and just freeze the fuck off. It wasn't like the warm cloth Drake had used, but then, nothing was.
    He needed to stop hoping for more. His time in Ke'lan province was over.
    He'd always been a drifter. This time he didn't even have his father to bring with him. He'd drift away, but he'd be leaving his heart behind. He was free and alive and that was supposed to be enough.
    Turned out he was a fool in love, but then it was only fitting. He was a fool in all things.
    Soap would have been nice but insanely cold water would have to do. He ran his hands gingerly over his body, washing away the blood and grime and ferreting out new aches to ponder. He ran his stiffened fingers over his limp cock and tucked balls, trying not to think of eyes as cold as this water.
    Then again, why did he have to deprive himself of such fantasies? Drake wanted his body. It was a little worse for wear at the moment, but hell, Sebastian could make him forget about that.
    He stroked his cock once, twice. Even though his mind was halfway there, his dick was firmly in hibernation mode. Well, that was some consolation – as incredibly hot as Drake was, he couldn't overcome nature.
    "You're looking well," Drake said. Considering hung in the air.
    Sebastian's hand froze on his cock as he looked over. Drake leaned up against a tree, naked and hard and glorious.
    Drake's gaze raked him down and up. "Don't stop on my account."
    Sebastian didn't move, but his dick hardened in his grip. So much for consolation. Still, he could not submit to Drake so easily. It had been beaten into him, starved into him that he relied only on himself. He didn't give up a single inch, not even to someone who helped him. That was for suckers. And if he didn't want to be that way with Drake, it didn't much matter. Survival habits were impossible to break.
    "I thought I should rest," Sebastian said.
    "I did say that," Drake conceded. "But you seem tense."
    A smile played at Sebastian's lips. As come-ons went, this one was pretty blunt, but it suited Drake. "I suppose you can loosen me up."
    Drake smirked. There was no other word for it. "I might be able to think of one or two ways."
    "Just two?"
    "Well, you are injured."
    The contrast between his staid words and naked form was too much for Sebastian. "Don't hold back on my account," he repeated Drake's words.
    Drake's hips jerked, the tiny motion drawing an answering thrust from Sebastian's. Fifteen feet away and they were practically fucking. And suddenly, unaccountably, he was shy. The clear, low river left him exposed.
    "Come out," Drake said, the low rumble like the purr of a large cat. Or a growl.
    Sebastian wavered, caught between disobedience and crippling fear.
    "I didn't take you as timid," Drake said. "Unless... Sebastian, if you don't want to…"
    "No!" Seeing Drake's uncertainty spurred him into action. It was one thing for him to think Sebastian was a dick, another entirely for him to doubt Sebastian's desire for him. He sloshed out of the water. The air stung his puckered skin, but he was heated in his core.
    As he crossed the pebbled bank, Drake's body tightened. It also hardened and lengthened to impressive proportions, giving Sebastian all sorts of ideas. When he came within arm's reach, Drake pulled him close and slid him against the tree.
    The bark pressed into his skin but didn't pain him. Drake's lips were on his, a hard, rough press of need. There was no finesse in that kiss, and Sebastian didn't want any. He moaned and softened and told Drake with his body what he couldn't put into words. I'm yours.
    The heat of Drake's body speared into him. His lips, his tongue felt thick and clumsy under the onslaught of Drake's clever manipulations. The numbness lifted in increments, like a tactile striptease. A firm hand behind his neck, holding him steady. The pressure of on his lower hip, pinning him against hard flesh. Soft hairs brushed his with every breath, every murmur.
    It came last, the hot brand of Drake's cock against his thigh, like a climax of its own. It had seemed impossible, in the cold dark of the prison cell. Even in the hovercraft. No. It was a dream.
    But the thick throb against his skin was too potent to be faked. Too perfect to be imagined. He was free, and he was with Drake. If this was all he'd have of his soldier, then he would make sure it was enough.
    "You're so cold," Drake murmured against his mouth. Even the soft heat of his breath shot needles