...Gaige captured his cheek in one of his hands and his mouth closed over Keiran’s, his lips chilled, but his questing tongue hot as flame. It felt as if Gaige were trying to imprint himself on him. And Keiran responded in kind. Their tongues tangled, their teeth clashed, their groins thrust together.

“Need you. Now.” Gaige tore his lips away long enough to speak, his words part plea, part demand.

“Here?” Keiran asked, surprised…and yet somehow not.

“Yes. Here. Before…” His fair brows furrowed.

He didn’t have to finish. Keiran knew. Before they got into the camp and their lives became not their own again. Before those who wouldn’t want Gaige here could stir trouble. At least that was Gaige’s perspective, and the root of his desperation. And Keiran had no will to deny his mate anything. In spite of the man’s exhaustion and pain, he’d give him whatever he wanted. He’d share his strength, his love, and anything else he could if it gave Gaige the assurance he needed.

Without further questioning, Keiran grabbed his hand and tugged him into a dense stand of tall pine trees where they’d be less conspicuous should anyone from the camp be wandering out here along the border near the shield.

Gaige was already dropping his pack, bow and quiver as Keiran pulled his own off his shoulders. And then they were kissing again, mouths fused in greedy worship, hands seeking, finding skin, fingers spreading against flesh at their waists, then moving to the front to fumble in frantic unison with the laces on their pants. The soft whoosh of leather sliding down signaled freedom, as did the chilled air against hot, moist genitals. The sharp contrast had them both sucking in gasps…until their needy cocks bumped together, and the gasps became low groans of pleasure.

As much as Keiran loved being inside Gaige, as much as he craved losing himself in the consuming depths of his lover’s body, he didn’t think here, in the woods, in a raw, wild fucking was the way to ease Gaige back into the pleasures of being penetrated. Not with the cancerous memories of being raped by Byram still haunting him, and Byram’s marks on his body not yet fully healed. “Do me,” he urged. “It’ll be easier for you.”

“No.” The insistence in Gaige’s voice caused his pulse to race. “I need you in me. Need to be yours again, Keiran. Fuck me. And don’t hold back.” His cool hands kneaded Keiran’s ass, inciting flames that licked through his body.

“Shit,” Keiran whispered, barely able to get anything past his suddenly dry throat. “Are you sure?”

“Keiran!” His name was an exasperated, desperate growl.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He kissed his lover again, then turned him and pushed him against one of the massive tree trunks, lust and love spiraling at his deepest core, driving him beyond all need for civility. Gaige anchored his hands on it without question and spread his legs as best he could with his pants around his thighs.

Keiran pushed his lover’s cloak to the side, exposing the pale flesh of his ass. The sight, intimate and sexy, only fueled the fire burning in Keiran. He stroked the muscular globes, eliciting grunts of appreciation from Gaige that were obvious pleasure, not pain. When he slid a finger along his crease and pressed the tip against the tight ring of muscle, the grunts grew breathless and pleading.

The sounds, erotic as hel, almost undid him—his cock wept in response, wanting to be buried in that welcoming hole. But first things first…

He dropped to his knees and pressed his face against the cool, damp skin. With a sense of urgency, he kissed and licked over each of the bold red welts, the thin, raised, angry cuts, and the yellowish-green bruises that marred what should have been smooth perfection. It took all his control to keep his fury at Byram, the fucking evil bastard, under a tight leash. Instead, he directed that energy at covering every mark with his own more intimate attention. Gaige made soft moaning noises in the back of his throat as Keiran worked, but didn’t move, as if he needed this as much as Keiran did.