On the Mountain by Riley Hart

Author:Riley Hart [Hart, Riley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, M/M
Publisher: Riley Hart
Published: 2024-01-23T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Crow

I couldn’t stop painting and drawing. I hadn’t done it at all since I’d brought Cyrus home, unable to leave him alone and definitely unwilling to share this part of myself with him. When I was young, Chosen had told me that my “doodling” was a foolish endeavor, a waste of precious time. I needed to be proving myself, bettering myself, standing out from the others in The Enlightened because if The Chosen’s son wasn’t worthy, it would reflect poorly on him. So I’d always done my best to work harder, worship harder, take pain better and more often than anyone else to make him proud. It had never been enough.

I brushed my finger over where I’d drawn the arch of Cyrus’s back, as if it was the same as truly touching him. I craved his skin beneath me all the time, yearned for it in a way that was unhealthy and Chosen would have tried to beat out of me. It was okay to fuck because that’s what men did, but the need I felt for Cyrus would have been a sin because we weren’t supposed to put anyone or anything over our love and devotion to Chosen and God.

I slept with Cyrus.

My guard was always up, of course. Had he moved from beside me, I would have woken. I’d learned to stay alert because sometimes Chosen would perform drills while we slept. Chosen and his handpicked elders would sneak into our rooms, test us. Take us to the Clarity room, which was where they inflicted pain or did a mock drill of outsiders coming to attack our compound so we could show how we would defend our Chosen.

He was first. Always first.

My pulse accelerated, so I concentrated on the curve of Cyrus’s ass, the way I’d drawn his cheeks open for me to take him.

The way he gave himself to me…there was nothing like it.

I worked until it was almost time to start dinner. I’d needed to draw even though it was hard to leave him alone for that long.

After cleaning and putting my supplies away, I locked the room and returned to the house. When I walked inside, I immediately smelled him. The sweet scent that always clung to his skin filled my home, and that made something inside me rumble.

I took off my coat, then went to the couch where Cyrus was curled into a ball, sleeping. His face was flushed slightly, which made his freckles pop against his skin. His hair was messy, sleep rumpled. He looked so content, like he was able to shed while he slept all the hurt and bad things that happened to him. I watched him breathe for a moment, studied each and every freckle that danced across his nose and cheekbones, mapped out a route on his pretty face that only I would know.

My eye caught on the purple mark on his neck, the one I’d put there with my mouth, staking my claim on him. Seeing it made my chest puff out, made me feel like the king of this mountain.

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