Page 77 of Tethered Fates

And here I thought his digits were curious. He explores my rim and hole like he can’t get enough, humming and burrowing deep, another messy make-out session where the only thing I can do with my mouth is moan.

His slim hand slides between my thighs to roll and pull my tight balls, his other hand reaching around to stroke my hard cock.

The noises I make echo in the spacious bathroom as Teagan works me over until the growing pleasure has nowhere else to go but out.

Yelling, cum pulses out of my shaft to spurt against the blue tiles.

“Well,” I say, amused and breathing hard, as I turn to see Teagan jumping up. “For someone in a cheap shower cap, you’re looking awfully smug.”

On hearing Teagan’s quiet rasping laugh, I realise we’ve been silent until now, and how silence with Teagan isn’t such a bad thing. It is also when I realise I am completely in love with my soulmate.

It shouldn’t be a shock, and yet…I’m floored.

I’m not a cold-hearted bastard; in nine hundred years, there was a time or two when I thought I was in love. But I underestimated the soulmate bond, and Fate, and Teagan. Somehow, this strange little artist tagged me as his, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once we’re dried, Teagan smothers himself in my expensive moisturiser, then does the same with me, a little grin planted on his plush lips.

Instead of getting dressed, Teagan insists we put on the white fluffy robes that are hanging in the wardrobe.

“I’ve always wanted to,” he says, swimming in the one he’s wearing. “It feels right posh.”

Chuckling, I scoop him up to carry him onto the balcony. I turn the heat lamps on to protect Teagan from the chilly wind, then order him two full English breakfasts.

“Will you actually be able to eat that?” I ask him once I’ve added my order of two espressos and a jug of orange juice.

Teagan cocks his head to the side and shoots up an eyebrow, saying without words that apparently I’m the crazy one.

And he proves as much when the food arrives by wolfing down half of one plate before I’ve even taken a sip of my coffee.

“Impressive,” I comment.

Teagan grabs his phone to snap a quick picture before shoving two hash browns in his mouth like I’ve been starving him.

“For my brother, Thomas. We send pictures to each other,” Teagan explains as he tosses his phone to the table. “He’s studying History in Japan.”

I hand Teagan the second cup. “Why Japan?”

Teagan shakes his head, curls bounding around his face. “Coffee makes me buzzy.” I pour him a glass of juice instead, which he gulps down most of before I’ve set down the jug. “Thomas wanted to learn independence and to experience the world. I miss him, but I’m happy for him. Do you have any siblings? Or…is that like a sore spot?”

I relax into the soft back of the sofa, throwing my arm around Teagan’s shoulders. The knowledge of what Emma told me is an uncomfortable stitch at my side. But one I choose to ignore. I’ll tell him after he’s eaten.

“I had three siblings. But they were much older, so our relationship was strained. Even more so as I grew, and my samurai training became serious.”

Teagan polishes off one breakfast in record time, then goes on to his second plate. “What was that like?”

I think back to those long days, carding my fingers through his hair. “Nothing less than perfection was tolerated. My tutors were strict and harsh. Failure wasn’t an option. And it was…boring. Bowing to people who assumed themselves my betters was laughable. The beatings were a sad attempt to control me. The endless lectures insufferable.” I run my palm down from his curls to the wing tattoo spread across his chest. “I craved freedom.”

Teagan blinks up at me. I’ve had many reactions to telling this story, from Vidar asking if I want revenge for whatever pains he imagined I suffered, to Lucero taking me out to drown my apparent sorrows in sex, then Rurik saying I should fight the anger out of my system.

Teagan says nothing; there is no pity or rage, only easy acceptance.

And in that acceptance, I tell him more. “The first boy I kissed was by a river.”

“Was it beautiful?”

“The boy?”

“The river.”