Lacuna - N.R. Walker Page 0,98

gather this wood in a pile and make a fire before the torch dies.”

With a solemn nod, Tancho helped collect the few pieces of driftwood, and while Crow made a campfire, Tancho plonked his ass in the dirt and watched.

He was exhausted, and he was devastated. He’d let everyone down. He hadn’t just failed his friends. He’d failed his people. As the fire took and the shadows played on the walls around them, Tancho could think of nothing else.

“Tancho,” Crow whispered, scooting over to sit on his haunches in front of him. He lifted Tancho’s chin and wiped away a tear. “We’ll be okay.”

He pulled his face back and used his sleeve to dry his face. “A moment of weakness, sorry.”

“No apologies necessary,” Crow murmured.

“Maghdlm knew exactly where she was sending me,” he said quietly. “And you chose to join me.”

“It was never a choice, little fish. I had to be with you.”

“Because of the bond.”

“No. Because of you. I would choose you, bond or no.”

Tancho’s eyes burned and another tear escaped. “I can’t imagine being here without you,” he admitted, wiping his face. “I’m so thankful for you, even if it means our end.”

“Our end?” Crow smiled sadly. “This isn’t our end.”

Tancho rolled his eyes at Crow’s optimism but was grateful for it all the same. But then he let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for the tears,” he said, wiping his face once more. “I failed my people. I failed my friends, my family. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, Crow. This was not . . .”

Crow took Tancho’s face in both his hands. “This is not our end,” he murmured, before kissing him. Tancho welcomed the warmth, the touch, and the emotion he could feel in Crow’s kiss.

In that moment, in his entire life, he’d never needed anything more.

He pulled Crow closer, deepening the kiss. Opening his mouth and tasting his tongue, but it still wasn’t enough. Not breaking the kiss, Tancho lay back and pulled Crow with him until Crow’s weight settled on him.

Yes, this was what he wanted.

What he needed.

He needed to feel, to feel something good, something borne of passion and desire.

Crow’s weight, his strength, his entire body pressing Tancho into the cold ground. Their mouths fused and tongues entwined. Tancho held him tight, clinging to his broad shoulders, his waist, his arse, grinding their erections together as they kissed, drinking each other in. But it wasn’t enough. Tancho needed more. He pulled at Crow’s armour, his shirt, his belt, and Crow helped him make short work of it all, their naked bodies soon gleaming in the firelight.

This was what he needed. Something to help him forget.

Something worth dying for.

Something worth living for.

And Crow held him, kissed him, ground against him with all the passion Tancho needed in that moment. He felt wanted and worthy, and his whole body was on fire.

Heat licked at his veins and burned in his belly. Fire like he’d never known, his bones were embers of pleasure so intense, he thought he might combust. Tancho was so close, so close to tipping over the edge, he was so close he ached for it. The feel of Crow’s hot and hard cock, slicked with precome, sliding between them, made Tancho beg for it. He wanted it inside him.

He needed it.

Crow slipped his hand between them and gripped his erection. He pumped him, his grip twisting and tight, and just when Tancho was about to tumble over the edge, Crow took his now-slicked fingers and went lower and lower, rubbing, and finally—finally—pushed his fingertips inside him.

Sparks exploded behind Tancho’s eyelids and he gasped as pleasure rocketed through him. Searing and scorching every inch of his body, an ecstasy unlike no other he’d ever felt, Tancho’s whole body went rigid, he tried to scream, to beg, to plead, but could make no sound.

If this pleasure was a fire, he wanted to burn forever.

Somewhere far off but warm in his ear, he swore he could hear Crow murmuring his name, chuckling and smug. And in his bliss-addled brain, Tancho knew Crow was between his thighs, slicking his hole. He knew Crow was using Tancho’s spend to slick his cock, then press it against him. But he still couldn’t form words, his bones were made of sea sponge, and he couldn’t even lift his hand.

Crow leaned over him, pressing against him but waiting . . . waiting. “Is this what you want?”

Tancho groaned and rolled his hips. “Not want,” he managed to