Ghost's Sight (4 page)

Ghost wriggled again as the dawn light crept through the window, the only shade coming from the tree in the yard. He flung one arm up to cover his eyes, a pink nipple peeking out from under the blanket. Gerry had to bite back another groan, this one coaxed forth by Gerry’s desire to tease that tender nub with tongue and teeth until Gerry had Ghost writhing, eager and willing to be loved.

As if in response to that mental image, Ghost turned back toward Gerry. Gerry’s eyes widened as he felt the hard bulge in Ghost’s breeches. Ghost’s pale blue eyes opened slowly as Ghost’s arm fell away from them. A perfect pink bloomed on Ghost’s cheeks.

“Oh,” Ghost said, which seemed to sum it all up in a single word.

“You stayed,” Gerry said, touching Ghost’s cheek. “Thank you.” He meant it. He had thought Ghost would slip away in the night, and it only now struck him how glad he was that Ghost had stayed.

Ghost looked at Gerry, his fingers reaching up to touch the back of Gerry’s hand. “I fell asleep. You were warm and I felt safe.” He swallowed hard, looking into Gerry’s eyes. “I didn’t want to go,” he added in a tone of wonder.

The shy admission brought a smile to Gerry’s face. “I’m glad. I’m really glad.” Before Gerry could change his mind, he brought his face closer to capture that sweet mouth in a gentle kiss.

Ghost’s eyes widened as Gerry’s mouth settled on his, the kiss tender, not demanding anything more than for him to accept it. Gerry felt the softness of Ghost’s lips, softer than the hunter imagined they would be, as Ghost’s fingers moved of their own volition to stroke the stubble along Gerry’s jaw.

When Gerry lifted his lips away, Ghost made a small sound of protest. The apprentice leaned closer to Gerry, pressing those sweet lips against Gerry’s lips, asking for more in a silent plea.

Gerry lingered longer this time, with more need than before. The tip of his tongue slipped past his lips to trace the swell of Ghost’s full lower lip, as succulent as Gerry had anticipated. He felt the faint tremor that ran through Ghost, a delicate shiver as the slender body moved closer. Gerry’s cock strained against the confines of his leather breeches, the pressure close to painful. He thought he smelled his own arousal as he tasted that inviting mouth.

Ghost’s lips parted as Gerry deepened the kiss. The younger man pressed against Gerry, the thin fabric of Gerry’s singlet rubbing against Ghost’s nipples. Ghost gave a whisper-soft moan as Gerry felt Ghost’s member pressed between them. Ghost’s cheeks grew darker while his hand wandered along the column of Gerry’s throat, traveling down to slide over Gerry’s chest.

The pale hand that slid along Gerry’s chest radiated heat far beyond what Gerry expected. The delicate little moan Gerry coaxed from the slender young man ran like lightning along Gerry’s spine. Gerry’s hand slid along the high cheekbone and into the thick white hair, to hold Ghost in place as Gerry plundered the sweet mouth that was offered without hesitation. Gerry could not help a moan of his own when Ghost pressed against Gerry, the evidence of Ghost’s interest pressing into his hip.

“Please,” Ghost whispered. The apprentice’s pale eyes were wide, but there was no fear in them, no hint of tension that Gerry could see. If Gerry had to put a name to it, he would have said that Ghost’s expression was one of wonder. Ghost’s next words only reinforced that impression.

“I think I’ve been waiting for this all my life.” Ghost tilted his face up, offering his lips again, that almost imperceptible tremble running through him as his lips parted.

Gerry kissed Ghost again, and this time Ghost kissed back, sweet and clumsy like all first kisses should be. Gerry broke the kiss only when they needed to breathe again, reluctant to relinquish that tender mouth, Ghost giving him a tentative smile.

“Oh, that was sweet,” Gerry murmured. He returned the smile, watching Ghost’s eyes light up. “I could kiss you all morning.”

Ghost’s cheeks pinked up even more, and he shifted a little. “I think I need -- my breeches feel tight,” he said. He made a small sound as Gerry’s hands dipped under the blanket to find his laces.

The hunter’s own cock was aching to be freed from the confines of his leather breeches. Once Gerry had unlaced Ghost’s flies, he turned to his own with a groan of relief. The groan thickened to something more when he felt Ghost’s hand stroke the hard shaft as it sprang free.

The younger man’s cheeks were a dark rose by now, but his eyes were locked on Gerry’s eyes. “I’ve never actually -- you know. With anyone.”

Gerry shifted to align his cock with Ghost’s cock, wrapping his hand around them both, covering Ghost’s fingers as well. “You told me, I think. Last night.”

“Do you mind?” Ghost asked. He made a soft sound as Gerry’s hand began to move, taking his hand with it, caressing the two shafts at the same time. His hand was caught up in Gerry’s hand, moving with it, while Gerry saw Ghost’s cheeks flushing with pleasure at the touch.

“That I’m your first? No.” Gerry leaned in to kiss Ghost, tasting that yielding mouth. “I like it, to be honest, knowing that there’s never been anyone else.”

Gerry ran his thumb over the head of Ghost’s cock, feeling the slick moisture that gathered there. Ghost gasped a little as the digit continued on to stroke the cleft underneath the head, while the feeling of Ghost’s warm cock moving against his own ignited the heat in Gerry’s belly.

“So if I don’t know what to do--” Ghost began, until Gerry kissed him into silence.

“We’ll take it slow,” Gerry promised. “We don’t have to do more than this for now. There’s always next time.”

Ghost’s free hand crept up to fasten on Gerry’s shoulder, his fingers digging in a bit as Ghost writhed in response to Gerry’s stroking. “Next time?” Ghost gasped, his eyes fluttering closed.

Gerry could smell the heavy, musky tang of his own arousal and a sharper scent that was Ghost. He licked his lips, the feeling in his belly demanding release in some manner, and soon.

Gerry’s voice was thick, his strokes picking up speed. “I’d like there to be a next time. I want to get to know you. Not just this, but talking, too.” He could feel the pressure in his balls that meant he was close, a heavy feeling.

The younger man nodded, his breath ragged. “Yes,” Ghost managed, before his eyes widened. He let out a moan as his cock jumped, before he spilled over his hand and Gerry’s hand. Gerry felt Ghost stiffen, and the hunter saw Ghost’s pale cheeks darken. Ghost shuddered against Gerry before he went lax, subsiding into Gerry’s embrace as he drew a shaky breath. Gerry could feel Ghost’s heart hammering, and Gerry’s own heart sped up in response.

Gerry muffled his own cry of pleasure in a kiss, capturing Ghost’s mouth as he came, his seed mixing with Ghost’s as their joined hands gave a few last erratic strokes. He was no virgin, but Gerry was sure he had never had a sweeter orgasm, made even more so by the unselfconscious pleasure that transformed Ghost. Ghost’s cheeks were flushed, and a few tendrils of hair clung to Ghost’s face, the younger man’s pale eyes shining like the morning sky. Gerry nibbled soft kisses as Ghost’s breathing slowed down, his free hand cupping Ghost’s face.

***

Gerry blinked when he heard a sharp rap on the door, having dozed off for a bit. The door opened to admit the Witch. Ghost burrowed closer to him, nuzzling into Gerry’s shoulder and mumbling something that Gerry could not make out.

“You’re awake?” the Witch asked. “How does the leg feel? Have you tried to stand?”

The hunter blinked again, his brain trying to catch up with the rapid-fire stream of questions. He looked down at Ghost’s snowy head as he realized he had no idea what to say to the Witch. Ghost had been adamant about not being her dependent, but it still felt awkward. There were proper ways to go about courting a dependent, after all, especially if you were thinking about striking out as an alpha yourself. Somehow, Gerry did not think that this counted as proper. The Witch had not taken offense, or so it seemed, but he had spent the night with her apprentice, or dependent, whatever she chose to call Ghost. Gerry had not asked the alpha’s leave, and his muzzy state after the healing was no excuse.

It seemed safer to stick to the questions asked, so Gerry cleared his throat a bit. “I haven’t tried to stand yet, but it’s not aching too much. Less than last night.” He watched the Witch, wary, as Ghost mumbled something else incomprehensible before looking up at Gerry.

Gerry’s breath hitched. Ghost’s eyes were bright, his expression serene, his fingers tight around Gerry’s fingers under the blanket. Gerry could feel the sticky mess of drying seed on their joined hands, but that look drove everything else from Gerry’s mind, aside from Ghost. “Hey, good morning again,” Gerry whispered. Ghost smiled, tilting his face to invite a kiss, as the Witch cleared her throat.

“I left some hot water in the washroom, and I’ve got porridge cooking. Clean up, the two of you, and get yourselves to the kitchen for food. Your alpha will be here soon enough, lad.” The Witch turned to leave but paused in the doorway, not bothering to look back. “And open the window a bit in here. The place reeks of sex.”

Ghost waited until the Witch left, closing the door behind her, before he let out a nervous chuckle. Gerry shrugged, leaning in to take the kiss Ghost had offered. Ghost returned it, his body relaxing all at once

“Sorry about that,” Gerry said. “I’ll talk to her later, and let her know I’ll be talking to Mother, too. I meant it, Ghost. I want there to be a next time, if you’re willing.” He tried to remember not to hold his breath as he waited for Ghost to answer, wondering how much his expression revealed. It seemed to convey a great deal, because Ghost’s smile lit up the younger man’s face.

“Yes. I’m willing. This feels right,” Ghost said.

“We should get up, I guess, before the Witch comes back to yell at us, or worse.” Gerry sat up, Ghost moving with him to slide off the bed and lead the way to the washroom.

Ghost had to make a grab for his breeches as they threatened to slide off his hips, and he blushed as he tried to wrap them around himself without having to tie them. He gave Gerry a sidelong glance, as if daring the man to laugh, but Gerry did not laugh. Gerry just looked at him with frank appreciation, while Ghost’s blush darkened and his smile lit his eyes.

“She won’t yell,” Ghost said, ducking his head. “She just bangs the porridge bowls on the table.”

Chapter 4

The Witch was as good as her word, and there was ample hot water for washing. The smell of cinnamon and apples greeted them when they emerged, Ghost’s stomach growling as he balled up the sheets and blankets before he put them aside for washing later. He found his knitted tunic where he had dropped it. He pulled it on, watching Gerry lace up the supple leather tunic, Gerry’s boots at the foot of the bed where Mother had left them.

Gerry was limping. Ghost felt a chill in the pit of his stomach again as he watched Gerry move. A hunter with a bad leg was at a disadvantage, while a guard who limped was next to useless. It was simply how it was, and Ghost could not see Gerry happy as a merchant. It must have shown on his face when Gerry turned and looked at Ghost.

“What is it?” Gerry asked, his hand cupping Ghost’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ghost shook his head. “Your leg. You’re limping.” He could feel his heart pounding hard. He was having trouble deciding if it was fear over Gerry’s leg or because Gerry was touching him. “Only a little, I know, but you’re still limping.”

Gerry smiled. “The Witch told me last night that I might limp for a couple of days, no longer than a quarter-moon. Things got banged around pretty good, but it should be fine. It doesn’t hurt to walk on it, really.” His smile widened. “Are you really worried about me?”

He felt himself blush, but Ghost did not duck his head. “Hunters need two good legs. You like to hunt. I can hear it in your voice.” He shrugged one shoulder as they entered the warm kitchen. Ghost’s Sight had seemed to indicate that Gerry would heal, but sometimes it was easy to get turned around in visions. Faces were hidden, and there were no clear voices to help him understand.

“You took long enough,” the Witch said, but she scooped generous bowls of thick porridge cooked with cinnamon and bits of dried apple, setting them on the table without banging them down. She poured hot water into mugs, the fragrant aroma of tea mingling with the porridge. A pot of honey sat on the table, although Ghost ignored it and just tucked in.

“Thank you kindly for the food,” Gerry said, polite. He began to eat, his spoon ringing against the bowl.

The Witch watched in open amusement while Gerry ate as if food had never crossed his lips, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. Gerry sat up when it seemed he had taken the edge off his hunger, his muddy green eyes curious. He looked closer at the Witch, and Ghost could tell he was taking in the wise eyes and the slender fingers, the fine bones of her face under the screen of lank, gray hair. It was a clever fiction that she wore, Ghost knew. She was nowhere near the hag anyone thought her to be.

“Nothing’s ever what it seems, lad,” the Witch said, as Gerry’s eyes widened. “Take you, for example. I do believe you’re usually brighter than to stumble over a sind’s hole, but you were doing what you’d learned to do so well. You were protecting your family.”

“Mother told you what happened?” Gerry asked. “Conn screamed and I just ran to him. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t. But oddly enough, that speaks well of you. It makes me think that you’d care for my little one here just as well.” The Witch chuckled. “You keep looking at him like you want to put him in your pocket. It doesn’t take a great deal of wit to figure things out. The fact that he’s not hiding in the drying shed says even more.”

Ghost looked up from his porridge, aggrieved. “I don’t hide in the drying shed. And this is different.” He looked at Gerry. “It’s not all people that make me get quiet. Only the wrong ones.”

“Like Conn,” the Witch replied, her voice thoughtful.

He could see her making connections to things he had said the day before. Ghost huffed a little sigh of frustration. He hated when she used his own words that way, to pry more information from him. He had told her what he could, and there was nothing new to say. Ghost’s Sight did not always give him clear knowledge. It was a guessing game at times, a puzzle to be teased apart to find the prize.