A King Awakened by Cooper Davis

Author:Cooper Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: TKA Distribution
Published: 2018-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Sam walked quietly in his stockinged feet down the hidden passageway that connected his own chamber with Thomas’s. It was a path he could take blindly, after so many assignations with his lover these past two years.

The pathway’s privacy had always sufficed, but tonight—with that vile Vincent skulking about—Sam knew to be extra cautious. With a glance in each direction outside the entry to his apartment, Sam raised his candelabra high. Illumination fanned out and long, until—there. In the distance, Sam caught sight of a familiar, beloved form. He quickened his steps, a pace to match his own heartbeat.

Thomas surged forward, matching Sam’s urgency. As the light spilt over the other man, his brown hair gleamed like copper, red highlights shimmering to a burnished sheen. Thomas lifted a fingertip to his lips, and then they were face-to face.

Sam hurriedly placed the candelabra on the outcropping above his head, a slot covered in wax drippings from assignations of decades past. Then he reached with both hands, pulling Thomas into his embrace. He nuzzled the other man’s neck, drawing in a long inhalation of that familiar scent of lemons and tobacco smoke. “I’ve burned for this,” Sam murmured, not bothering to hide his desperation. “Burned.”

Sam couldn’t lie; not about this. Not to Thomas.

Thomas clasped Sam’s upper arms, pushing him to arm’s length. “We can’t,” he whispered achingly. “We mustn’t, Sam. Not . . . not now.”

“Then when?” Sam asked, voice cracking. He understood what Thomas meant, but he refused to acknowledge it. “Thomas, I-I’ve waited for tonight. Weeks, we’ve all waited. Lucy’s waiting for you now, in our bed. Your bed.”

“Sam, this must end. It should’ve ended long before now.” Thomas shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was still here, enmeshed in a painful ménage. Sam began to reach for him, but Thomas withdrew as if burned. “I cannot be touched by you. Please, just”—Thomas made a shaky gesture toward where Sam stood—“stay there, in that precise spot.”

Sam held both palms up, determined to reason with his skittish lover. “Sweet love,” he said, “you are forever reaching this decision, and you start off meaning it. Until whatever daft guilt’s been eating at you passes, and then you rush right back into our arms. Usually even more eager than your last turn in our bed.”

Thomas frowned. “I’m a married gentleman, Samuel. It’s not ‘daft guilt’ to realize I’m not much of a husband, carrying on with—”

“It is love. And well you know it.”

Thomas gasped, a palm going to his cheek. He stood, eyes bright, but said nothing.

Sam circled closer. “It is love, and you know it, man.”

Thomas began to tremble, his gaze lowered. Still, he said nothing.

Sam’s heart was slamming in his chest. “It is love,” he growled, “what we share. You never—ever—loved until me. Your words. Yours.” Sam groaned, then grit out, “It is love.”

“Yes, it is love,” Thomas cried, clutching his chest. “I am in love, Sam. With two people—neither of whom is my own spouse.

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