He’ll have a new scar where I drilled into his skull. How many more does he carry where no one can see them?
Why is this the first time I’ve asked myself that question?
“Lorcan is your friend, is he not?”
“Since childhood.”
I stride across the room and root around in a closet until I find it. Brandishing a child’s wooden spear, I turn to Tovian and pretend to throw it. He throws up his arms and rolls flat on the bed. If I had thrown true, he’d have easily avoided it.
“Hey now, Sunshine. I was only asking questions.”
“Lorcan taught me how to use this when we were kids. His father was a knight assigned to rotation at River Bend for a summer. Later, he became the captain of Zosia’s mother’s guard.”
I feel my forced smile crumple.
Tovian, laid out on my bedspread, lifts one hand and gestures for me to come near. I prop the spear against my wardrobe and crawl over his torso so I’m laying on top of him. It’s immensely gratifying to feel the ridge of his cock pressed against my low belly. I prop my chin on my hands. Tovian tenderly brushes my hair away from my face.
“I want to fit in with your friends.”
Shock stills me. I study the planes and edges of his face, trying to formulate a response.
“You will.”
“All the places you’ve been…the things you’ve seen. Cities. Continents. Languages. I knew the outside world was vast, but until I met you I never understood exactly how big and magical it is.”
A familiar ache blooms within me.
“Zosia was fascinated by it, too. You would have loved going to school in Scotland with us.” A lump forms in my throat. How different would things have been if Tovian were there? Would I have gotten over my epic crush on Lorcan sooner?
“I wish you could have been there, Tovi.” I lower myself down to kiss him. He greedily palms my ass. The tension changes in a blink from maudlin memories and wistful hopes to outright horniness.
“Someday, I’d like to take you there.” I duck my head so he can strip my shirt off. I straddle his hips, rocking my weight along the ridge of his cock.
“Where?” He hooks his thumbs into my waistband and pulls it down over my ass. “Tell me about these places.”
“London. Paris. Beijing.” I name the cities I’m most familiar with, knowing that to him they’re abstractions.
“New York?” he asks, and I’m reminded that he’s been sneaking into Oceanside to learn about the outside world for years.
“I’d like to go there too.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asks between kisses.
“Too many guns. Cata and Lorcan said it wasn’t safe.”
“Fucking guns.”
“Yeah. I really hate those things.”
“Efficient for killing,” Tovian muses somberly.
“No honor in it,” I complain. “No skill.”
“Hitting a target takes skill. It took me weeks of practice to aim reliably.”
I don’t argue, partly because he’s right and partly because he’s captured my breast with his mouth. Licking. Sucking. Grazing it with his teeth. I’m so desperate for him I’ve lost the thread of our discussion. Besides, who wants to talk about guns.
I want us to be together. I want us to go and see all the wonders of the modern world. I want us to live here, in our home country, which begs the question of which tribe we’d choose.
