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Bound & Bound – the Curse and the Captives – - 21. Chapter 21: Blood Betrothal
Chapter 21: Blood Betrothal
I'm fucking pissed.
I storm into our room and don’t care that the door bangs the wall.
Silviu comes in behind me and slowly closes it with a locking sound. My eyes notice the glorious twilight outside our French-doored window, but I do not let my brain acknowledge it.
I pace around, hands on my hips, just daring him to say something – anything.
Silviu comes to the centre of the room sheepishly. "You haven’t uttered a word since the well. Are you all right?"
I launch myself and slam him against the wall. My hand rips at his collar buttons and they go flying. I grab the coin and yank it up from his chest. I can see the gold chain digging angrily into the flesh of his neck, but I don’t care. I spit my words into his face. "Where did you get this?!"
"Emeric," he says very controlled. "You are hurting me."
"Humph." I release the coin and step back. "I know that name – that Hans Schnyder name. At first I couldn't figure it out how, but then today it hit me. I've heard my dad's lawyer say it's one of my father's business aliases."
I come up again and raise an accusing finger to his face. "You are fucking working for him, right? You were never on my side; you're just a paid employee of my dad's."
I back up, hands going to my waist as I pace again. I hear myself shout out in dolorous self-pity, "You bastard! You were only ever a tool of my father's continuing control, even from beyond the grave!"
Silviu looks wretched. He stares down at his hands and boots.
I can't look at him anymore, so I go to open the curtains of the French doors.
Outside, the medieval cityscape of spires and towers is burnished in the most romantic light of a setting sun imaginable, but I barely let myself acknowledge half of it.
Behind me, I can hear Silviu push himself away from the wall and return to the centre of the room. In my mind's eye I can almost see him standing there with downcast looks, and hands thrust open-palmed to me to show how defenceless he is.
"Yes," he says softly. "You figured it out. The coins we wear connect us; we both got it from your dad. Your father set up a contract with Daj and me, and left life knowing that after his death you'd find us. He hired us to be your protectors, AND to be the ones who reveal the blood hex to you, not strangers, so that you didn't have to stumble around in the dark like he did. He was scared to death about what would happen to you after you inherited the curse, so he did what any good dad would do."
I prop hands on the window frame, not knowing if I can be mad at him anymore. Maybe now I'm just fucking sad.
"Emeric," he pleads with me. "You've got to understand. It may have started as 'business,' but that's not what it is anymore." There are tears in his voice. "If you tell me to fuck off, I will leave you alone, and I will always be remorseful that I hurt your confidence and trust in me. I'm…I'm sorry."
My breathing regulates itself; slowly more and more of the beauty of the evening on the threshold of being born edges into my senses. "No…" I stammer no more than a whisper. That stupid movie pops into my head, Miss Honeychurch sitting on the windowsill with George leaning over to kiss her for the first time. Stupid, stupid, stupid – this is real life, and things don’t work out like that.
I'm trapped and caught in my own brain, and hopelessly feel myself shutting down again. This pausing moment drags out into an indeterminate time where I just seem lost. "Don't go…"
And then, slowly, I perceive Silviu come up behind me. He tentatively entwines his arms under mine, caressing my ribs with open hands that settle around my waist in front. The halo of his body spray enters my aura as if part of my own scent. The sides of his head and ear come to rest on my shoulder. Into the nothingness he sees, he tells me softly, "I'm so sorry for you, Emeric. I really am. Your father's actions made you miserable and that hurts me – "
I cut him off by turning and roughly pushing him back a little. "Why did you smoke a cigarette that day?"
He screws up a scowl on his lips. "What..?"
"That rainy day at the shop. I was sitting in my car and you came out and smoked, but you do not smoke, do you?"
"No, I don’t smoke."
"So, what was that then?"
"It was my chance to, to see you. Remember, Daj drove me away."
"You wanted to see me..?" I don’t let him answer. "You lied to me before when you said you never looked at a guy and thought 'he's the one.' You can't fool me – so who is he?!"
He looks both amazed and oddly relieved. That partially conflicted expression clarifies itself into one pure, naked emotion. "You caught me," he says with a choked up grin. "You know me too well – there was one who walked into my life one day, and floored me. It wasn't like the movies make it out; it wasn’t a flash; it wasn’t a bolt out of the blue. But as I slowly watched this mysterious, beautiful young man go down on one knee and invite my little brother Lupasc to join him, I slowly felt 'it.' I knew, 'he's the one.'"
"You mean – "
"I mean you, Emeric Corvin. That day at The Seeing Fox, you changed my life."
He raises his chin and holds my gaze. "Your father's deal with The Seeing Fox may have started out as a cool assignment for me…" Silviu reaches out for my hand, and I let him take it. "…For me to watch over a snot-nose college brat…" He takes my other hand. "…But now, you are closer than a brother to me. I may be powerless to make you return my feelings, which means that I am weak and that hurts, but I love you, college boy. You're the man I love more than my own life."
I am stunned; I am speechless.
"Emeric…" He begins to cast teary glances to the right and left, now his voice is emotional. "You were never just a job to me; you were – are – someone who was dealt a rotten hand in life, and someone who needs protection and guidance, but I've messed it up, and now you – "
I cut him off by whispering: "You think I don’t return your feelings?"
His eyes lock back onto mine. "What?"
My thumb goes to brush away a tear from his cheek. "I love you too."
"You – what..?"
"I fucking love you, crazy man – but you scare the shit out of me."
He blinks like I had just stabbed him. "I do?"
I break free of Silviu and walk towards the bed rubbing my forehead.
"You just don’t know how hurt I am to find out you are only another instrument of my father's control. Fuck. You just don’t know."
I turn to face him, and the glorious colours of the sunset begin to silhouette him against the French window.
"I won't ever understand, unless you tell me."
"Okay, Silviu. Two years ago, the day I got this haircut because I thought it would draw my dad and me closer together was the day the man I loved with all of my heart dumped me. I had to know why, and tracked Erich down as he was packing his suitcase. 'Why?' I demanded in tears. He said he loved me, but that my father had threatened his life, AND paid him off handsomely to stay away from me.
"That's when I enrolled in university full time and moved out. I could barely look at my dad, much less speak to him. And this fucking hair? – I kept it. Kept it so that every day, when I'd look in the mirror and see his face looking back, I'll remember how much I hate him; hate me; hate Erich most of all for being such a fucking coward."
A movement from Sil makes me look up from the carpet. He stays in one spot, but raises his hands which land flat-palmed on top of his head; his torso twists slightly to the light, and I see tears falling freely down his cheeks.
My hands go to my thighs, just above the knees. I feel myself almost wanting to crumple under the weight of this whole nightmare – instead I push myself upright and face Silviu. No more thoughts of 'I'll deal with this later.'
"Erich broke my heart doubly hard. I'm scared to commit to you, Sil, lest you hurt my faith in love again. I don’t think I could stand a third betrayal."
He can't look at me anymore. "Just tell me the truth then. Tell me to fuck off, and I will," he says without hope to the twilight.
"The truth is, I don’t want you to go anywhere. I fucking love you like mad, you crazy Romani. You've been driving me insane and deeper and deeper in love since you grabbed me in that Bucharest alley and told me what a shit head I was."
Hands still on top of his head, he turns to look at me; he's smart. He asks, "But…there's always a but."
"But, this is not about love. It's about trust, and I don’t know if I have that with you."
Sil twists around suddenly and drops his hands to his sides. He strikes the attitude of a supplicant with open fingers and dropping shoulders towards me. He cries, "I will not betray you."
"I'm asking you not to hurt me, okay?"
In a moment the self-doubt and waywardness of Silviu's beautiful face disappears. He sniffles and grabs at his coin. He lifts it off of his chest and holds it so I can see it; a new glimmer of hope peeks out from his baby blues. His voice rings out in quiet confidence, "I know a way, a way to prove to you that I will never take advantage of your trust, or hurt the love for me you may build in your heart."
I come in close to him, lowering his coin for him. "How?" I wipe his tears.
He holds out his hand for me to take, and after I swallow down one sceptical moment of doubt, I take it. He opens the window and lets the air come in to flap the curtains. He poses me right in front of the beautiful setting and digs out his pocketknife. "Once a life force is shared," he says as he opens up the central blade and lets it glint in the vermillion light. "My people believe the partner's blood in him will strike him dead if he ever betrays their love." Silviu holds the blade between our faces, and his eyes sparkle behind it.
"Sil, what are you – "
As am I speaking, he cuts a gash in the tip of his middle finger. "I'll commit to you, Emeric Corvin, now and forever. And any betrayal of it will strike me dead. Also, don’t worry, I won't hold you to the same oath."
Silviu's azure eyes are as pure and selfless as any wedding vow should be. I bring his right hand up – the hand with the knife – and use it to cut the tip of my own middle finger.
I press our bleeding gashes together, and feel his heartbeat enter my body as an onrush of warming heat.
"If I betray you, Silviu Vasile – ever – may your blood in my body seek out its revenge."
Silviu inhales in what sounds like immense relief. After another prolonged moment of feeling our pulses through the other's skin, and slowly having our heartbeats sync up, he guides my cut finger to his lips. At first he smears some blood on his lower lip, then he draws my finger in and lightly sucks on it.
He pauses to tell me, "Emeric Corvin, I take you into my body and soul. If I ever betray your confidence and your love, may your blood in my body strike me dead."
I lift his finger to my mouth. The taste of his life force is tinged with iron, and that earthiness soothes my last concern. I am grounded, and I can let go. No room with a view was ever more perfect, if my Silviu was in it.
Our eyes close, our fingers slip out, and our mouths come together.
My Gypsy stud's scent overwhelms my senses as flavour freshly come over my nose and palate – it was never his body spray that attracted me after all, it was all him. I greedily part my lips to take him in deeper. Our tongues meet, and although I had expected Silviu to take an aggressive role, he moans into my excited breaths as I penetrate him deeply.
Both of my hands go up and grab onto the back of his head so I can drive it deeper. His panting exits his nose as flashes of steaming heat on either side of my cheeks.
Our bodies come together, and his stiff cock presses fully against the length of mine. My fingers quickly glide down his side, reach back and grab onto his ass cheeks. I pull up and out, and my man shudders in his whole body. I embrace him tighter, lifting the back of his upper thigh with a rough yanking motion until he wraps that leg around me. I slightly bend my knees so my hand can get back and explore the seams of the fancy jeans underneath. He moans again, only this sound is more like a whimper of supreme pleasure.
We continue to kiss, more gently, and methodically now with open eyes on one another. His fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, and mine set his leg down and work his belt buckle.
As he slips the yoke of my shirt off my shoulders, his lips glide off of mine to kiss the nape of my neck. It's my turn to moan, and to crane my head. My hands however are not idle – I find and draw down his zipper.
With the same hand I reach in and stroke his rock-hard dick. It's just as impressive as I spied when he was slipping on or off his pants. I peek down and let his lips caress my forehead just above my nose. His beautiful member is pressed up and over to his right in bright neon-yellow briefs. I stroke it with just the tips of my fingers, and he sighs in ecstasy on my cheek. The girth is impressive, and I find that the way it flares under my caress stiffens my own cock more than anything else. The very tip – which is pressed tightly by the fabric to be up near where his waist becomes the top of his thigh – gets raked tenderly by the points of my thumb and index finger making a circuit there. I can feel the flaring tip is crowned royally.
Sil lets go, then with an impish stare, glides to his knees. Still looking at me, his hands work to loosen my belt, copper waist rivet, and then one – pop – by one – pop – he undoes my button-fly – pop – with maniacal slowness.
He tugs on my boxers, and I flop out to him with a helpless breath escaping me; my fingertips fly to stroke his ears and spiky hair.
He pulls out my balls and lets the elastic of my shorts come back to form an impromptu cock ring from underneath.
He sucks me, and I need to sightlessly guide him to the task, because my eyes have to close and my head has to loll back in intense pleasure.
"Fuck…" I moan to the ceiling.
"Um hum," Sil gurgles with wet lips.
Silviu takes his mouth off of me and strokes me expertly with his open palm. The ribbing and bumpy feel of his chunky silver bands gliding over my most delicate skin feels incredible.
I glance down to him, and in the same fluid motion pull up his chin so my kiss can gently stroke his mouth. After we feel our breaths becoming hot and excited again, I pull back and whisper in a gravelly voice, "Tell me what you want…"
His face grows expectant and round, his eyes bluer than ever, and his tone is tender as he tells me, "I've wanted you in me for a very long time."
"You want me to fuck you, hmm?"
A quick sigh escapes him. "More than anything."
"Okay, but from now on, we have to be versatile."
His glossy lips part with a mercurial lilt. Colour rises on his cheeks. "No problem," he says with a wink. "I've wanted to get inside of you for just as long."
˚˚˚˚˚
Sil is kneeling on the bed. His arms are flayed flat out on either side of him, and his cheek is rhythmically smashed into the pillow as I give him what he wants.
It feels fantastic; not the sex per se, but the lovemaking with someone I care deeply about.
Yes. I do love this sometimes crude, but always honest and plainspoken man. I love him; I love him; and I am scared too.
Silviu rises on his right elbow and allows his left arm to cross under his belly.
What if the curse is too much to deal with; what if I only end up dragging him down?
"Em, oh Em!" Sil pants.
"Yes, baby?"
"I'm about to cum, are you – "
"Silviu – come for me!"
"I want us to cum together."
I grab onto his shoulders, and lean down to kiss the back of his ear. I whisper: "I fucking love you, my Romani stud." I feel his whole body tense under mine, and then settle into protracted rhythmic contractions.
The sensation of his grip, release, grip, release sends me over the top.
I grunt loudly, feeling my own moist breath radiate back onto my lips from the side of his neck. I let go, and orgasm in total convulsive delight into my man; a pleasure not a little increased at the feel of Sil's hand stroking the back of my head.
He moans into the pillow, "Now I'm yours, Emeric. And God, how I love you."
I turn him over and collapse onto him with open mouth and exploring tongue.
In the back of my mind, the only thought I can find is a dark one: 'Time will tell.' I feel more vulnerable than ever – and this blood betrothal of ours is a supreme display of trust from the both of us.
I think, 'Love is all right, it's not so frightening to be in love…I hope.' I kiss Sil's cheek as he snuggles up to my side and starts to go to sleep. 'But not if I can't rid us of this curse.'
At least now, Silviu is fully correct when he says – we face this thing together.
- 21
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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