But he put out a hand, stopping Craig momentarily in his tracks. “Don’t. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me.” Alun ran the rest of the way into the room and would have shut the door in Craig’s face, except he didn’t let him. Instead, Craig entered right behind him and shut them both in.
Alun scurried to the other side of the bed. “Leave!”
Craig pulled himself together. He had to get this right for the sake of their relationship and Alun’s sense of self-worth. This wasn’t really a surprise. When he’d slipped his hand down Alun’s pants, he’d felt bumps and ridges, and some part of him had known at the time that it was scar tissue. He’d thought it might have been from a C-section. And there was certainly a long vertical scar that had to be from giving birth. Alun hadn’t been given the benefit of a bikini cut, like Craig’s sister-in-law had. It had been a different time and no one had given a shit about Alun’s body anyway. It was the rest of it—scars and burns damn near everywhere—that made him see red, much like the color Christos’ eyes had been. Alun’s body was a road map of torture.
“I’m upset,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “It hurts to see what you endured. It’s like a physical pain, but it’s nothing like what you must have suffered. I knew you were strong and brave, but this…” He shook his head. “Baby, I’m in awe. You’re amazing.”
“I’m hideous.”
Craig shook his head again. “No. Not at all. You’re beautiful.” He walked toward him, careful not to spook him with sudden movements. He was rather afraid that Alun might bolt right out of the open window behind him. A nice breeze filtered through and the voices of some of the others drifted up. The big, brass bed between them would be a wonderful place to lie down together. It would be the perfect bed for fucking, except that was definitely the wrong thing to think.
Or maybe not.
“You believe I can’t see you past the scars?” When Alun nodded once, Craig continued. “You’re wrong. Here’s how you know that I’m telling you the truth.” He pressed the heel of his fly, willing his cock to get with the program. He’d been hard for the entire trip, his boner deflating only because of how angry he was about Alun’s brutalization. It didn’t take much to coax it to life. All he had to do was picture that towel slipping to the floor.
“Do you see what you do to me?” Removing his hand, he held open his arms to display his obvious desire. “If you let me, I’d lay you down on this bed and make love to you.”
“You can’t mean that,” Alun whispered. Someone outside laughed loudly, making Alun flinch. “I can’t do this. I don’t know why I ever thought I could. I’m less than useless. I want to go home, but I don’t know where that is and I can’t leave without Merlin. I’ve failed him all his life. I can’t do it again.” He looked at Craig with tears in his eyes. “Tell me what to do.”
Even though lording it over another was not something he, as a descendent of slaves, could ever be comfortable with, Craig understood that Alun’s pain and clear need overrode his reluctance. It was up to him to give this man some relief from his anxiety and hopefully give him confidence at the same time.
“Take off your towel.” He held his breath, not certain this was the right tactic. Instinct told him that Alun’s angst over the mission stemmed from his perception of his own personal lack of value.
Alun hesitated long enough that Craig feared he’d made the wrong call. Then the man opened his hand and the cloth fell away. All those hideous marks on his skin faded into the background as Craig’s gaze homed in on that perfect, lovely and uncut cock that was revealed. It was also rather big, considering how almost delicate everything else about Alun was. The quick and furtive hand job a few hours ago hadn’t revealed its full glory. Craig stared and stared as he walked closer and closer. A grin broke out before he could stop it.
“Oh, Lord, was that worth the wait.” He focused his eyes on Alun’s face, but couldn’t make contact with the man because Alun’s were closed. “Alun, open your eyes and look