Aidan studied himself critically in the full-length mirror. He had inherited from his much-missed mother high cheek-bones, fine bone structure full, pouting lips and a slender physique. Raising his arms he performed a slow pirouette. There was only the lightest of dusting of hair under his arms. His body was smooth, his chest adorned with two large chocolate discs which haloed caramel nipples. A few dark wisps led from his navel to a modest nest that framed his sex.
Like the rest of him, his manhood was smooth and slender. Although he did not remember his Papa as anything other than grey, he had been told by his Mama that his dark eyes and lush, chestnut tresses were from his father. It seemed that they were the only things he had inherited from his tall, masculine sire.
He gazed sadly at his image, wondering what it was about him that his Papa was so keen to be rid of him now he was of age. He had celebrated his birthday just four months before and now his father was hosting a Valentine Ball. He was expected to wear a white rose denoting purity and availability. His Papa making it clear he expected his son to choose or, equally possibly, be chosen as a suitable marriage partner. He sighed. He knew how happy his parents had been and that they had met at such a Ball. However, he had hardly set foot out of their home and its grounds in the five years since his Mama’s death. He had no friends, no confidants; he had not experienced interrelating with people of an appropriate age to consider as marriage partners.
His last two outings at parties that should have begun his integration with others his age had been a disaster. He had been laughed at and ridiculed for his countrified manners and lack of dancing skills. Now his Papa was bringing a friend in to tutor him personally. He had a distant memory of Murron as a big, dark man, but nothing more. He did not want to be chosen, nor did he want to feel forced into choosing. At the risk of incurring his father’s wrath, Aidan had a plan. He was going to hide one of his frockcoats in a tree’s hollow by the wishing well. Then he would exchange it for the coat with the detested rose. No one would know him as the Ball was one where all wore full-face masks and wigs. He would change the coats once more before returning home.
There was one other matter that worried him. He was quite sure his Papa expected him to choose a wife and continue the long and noble blood-line of his family. He was equally sure it would never be. He felt nothing, no matter how attractive the young lady in whose presence he was, when in female company. His heart only fluttered when in the company of men. Aidan was convinced his Papa would be disappointed to find that their family line would end with him. However his Mama had always encouraged him to go with the convictions of his heart and, for the sake of her memory, it was his intention to do just that.
Murron smiled at the bellow of his name from Donal as he entered his friend’s home. He had last been there for Isabel’s funeral and, as he saw the older man striding towards him, he shook his head in amazement. Donal looked no older. He was still tall and powerful, his hair and beard the same grey. It was hard to remember there was twenty years between them as he was swept into a powerful hug.
“You look the same as ever, my friend,” Murron said, admiration colouring his voice. “This county air must suit your constitution. Perhaps I should reconsider living in the city?”
“Aye, Murron,” Donal laughed. “Your face does look somewhat pasty. Not enough good, clean, fresh air.”
The two men laughed companionably.
“You asked if I would tutor Aidan,” Murron said. “‘Tis hard to believe your boy is now a man.”
“Aye,” Donal said, a note of sadness creeping into his voice. “He’s grown so fast and I will not be around forever. I’m hoping that he will find his future at the Valentine’s Ball I’m hosting. Someone he can care for and who will care for him when I’m gone.”
“Donal, he came of age just a few months past. You are asking me to act as his tutor. Is he ready to choose?” Murron had not realised that Donal had arranged such a Ball so soon after Aidan’s coming of age. It seemed to him that Donal was worrying a little prematurely.
The conversation stopped as Aidan came into view. Murron’s tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. This… this was the willowy, gangly boy he remembered? The duckling had indeed become a swan. Aidan was nothing less than heart-breakingly beautiful, with his mother’s delicacy of features and his father’s darkness of hair and eye. Murron could see both female and male alike competing for the young man’s favours. However Aiden moved with timidity not confidence, stilted, not graceful. Murron instantly knew he needed first and foremost to teach the young man some self-belief.
“Aidan, please meet your new tutor. This is my friend Murron. Murron, my son Aidan,” Donal completed the introductions as the two men simply stood and stared at each other.
Aidan was certain his jaw was hanging open and, if it was, he did not feel he had the ability to shut it. This…this was the big, dark man he remembered? Murron was tall, at least as tall as his Papa and equally broad. His hair was dark and hung straight to his shoulders and a goatee adorned his chin. His eyes were a shade of hazel that almost seemed to shift colour in the light. It seemed to Aidan that not just his heart, but every inner organ he possessed was set aflutter by the handsome, powerful male.
At the discreet cough from Donal, both men remembered their manners and stepped forward, hands outstretched. However, Aidan’s nervousness had once more taken away his coordination. He stumbled as he tried to move quickly and was caught swiftly into Murron’s safe embrace.
Murron stared, almost entranced by the beauty in his arms, but rapidly remembered the boy’s father was present. He set Aidan on his feet and held out his hand once more, a smile on his lips. The blush that stained the younger man’s cheeks seemed only to enhance his exquisite features. Murron kept firm control as a frisson passed between them as their hands clasped together. He was here as the boy’s tutor, Donal putting Aidan in Murron’s care. The older man knew he would have to keep his libido under firm control for the duration of his visit.
Murron materialized by the old stone well an hour before sunset, surprising the dark-haired beauty polishing his manners. Aidan jumped in surprise and stumbled over his books, ending up on his knees before the smiling man.
“Looks like we’ll have to add walking before dancing to the list of things you need to work on,” Murron tried for a jest.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Aidan scrambled to his feet, blushing furiously. Now the older man must think him totally inept. He kept his head down.
“Well, the dance is as yet a couple of weeks away. I expect that we can get you perfected by then. Would you like some extra tuition?” Murron asked softly. He smiled his encouragement as Aidan peeked shyly at him. He smiled wider as Aidan nodded his agreement. He had a thought that perhaps outside of the classroom environment, the young man might feel less inhibited.
By the time they completed the preliminaries, Aidan was so tired that Murron escorted him into the house to retire to sleep and the older man then headed gratefully back to his room. They had covered such pleasantries as approaching a woman, kissing her hand, compliments, dining etiquette and strolling between dances. Murron had assured the obviously concerned young man that, apart from the kiss, there would be little difference if he wanted to approach, or was approached by, a man.
Murron decided he needed strong drink before trying to teach Aidan to dance, not simply follow in his steps, but to have the lithe frame in his arms. Aidan was devastatingly beautiful to the older man’s eyes and he had seen many beauties of both sexes in his time. Aidan was actually trying to mimic Murron’s every move, which the older man found endearingly captivating. From their conversations, it was apparent that Aidan had no real friends and no one who had ever taken the time to truly get to know him.
He stripped gratefully from his clothing, letting air from the open window cool his heated, furred body. Thinking of Aidan had caused his sex to rise. He reached for his manhood, stroking it to full hardness as he let the breeze play about his thighs and sac. He moved to the bed and stretched languorously, spreading his legs wide. He played with the thicket of fur surrounding his shaft and then tugged up the prominent treasure trail before playing with his nipples. He groaned and writhed as pleasure began to suffuse his body. He worked himself harder, faster, pre-come slicking the long, thick column. He slid his fingers to tease his perineum as he began to pant, his breath catching. A fingertip pressing at his entrance pushed him over the edge and pearlescent strands of his seed decorated his torso.
Desultorily, he reached for the towel he had thrown on his bed to clean himself. He was not surprised that Aidan’s face had come to mind as he had reached his apex. Murron’s last thought before he went to sleep was that he would like to take the time to get to know the young man.
Murron was surprised that Aidan was not with them for dinner as he joined Donal for the evening meal at the conclusion of his second day as Aidan’s tutor. He looked at the two place settings.
“Donal, where is Aidan?”
“He has a meal in his schoolroom at the conclusion of his lessons. He is then free to walk in the gardens till the sun sets and then retire to his room,” Donal replied.
“My friend,” Murron said slowly. “You invited me here to polish your son’s social skills, his etiquette and his dancing. You have told me that you are hosting a Valentine Ball at which you will send Aidan out, wearing the white rose, where he can be approached with a view to be taken in marriage with your approval. Yet you still have him completing a childish ritual, not even taking his place as an adult at your table. Have you truly thought this through?” He watched his friend’s face as Donal digested what he had heard.
“I was so much older than Isabel,” the older man sighed. “I did not expect that she would pass away first and leave me alone with our son. I became afraid to let him even leave the house. I’m not getting younger and wanted him to find the one to love him as Isabel and I loved. We found each other at a Valentine Ball.”
“You and Isabel were very blessed,” Murron said softly. “But you cannot simply expect history to repeat itself. Surely it would be better to let Aidan mix with some younger people for a year or two and in that way meet his wife-to-be.”
“I very much doubt it will be a wife my son would choose,” Donal said, watching from the corner of his eye to see his friend’s reaction. He hid a small smile as Murron blinked, his mouth opening and closing silently as that information was processed.
“He would be more inclined to select a…husband?” Murron clarified, wanting to ensure he understood his friend.
“I believe so,” Donal nodded. “Not that we have discussed such matters, but I have eyes and ears. It was not my son that told me of the jibes and jests at his expense. That is why I entrusted him to you, a friend who will treat him as he deserves. Perhaps I do need to rethink Aidan’s future,” he added thoughtfully. “However, I cannot cancel the Ball.”
“Nor is there need to,” Murron smiled, now recovered from the shock of Donal’s unexpected revelation. “Just consider whether you want to chance Aidan’s future and happiness on a masked Ball.”
Aidan was surprised and nervous to find that he was to join his Papa and Murron for the evening meal after another session of extra tuition in the gardens. It seemed his feet were more agile on the grass and the ritual had already become one he anticipated with delight. He took a fortifying breath as he reached the dining room door and stepped inside.
The meal passed swiftly, his father and Murron engaging him in conversation that Aidan found most enjoyable. He was even invited into the sitting room afterwards to share in some port with the older men. He was given just a half measure in one of his Papa’s crystal glasses. However, just a couple of sips in conjunction with his active day and nervousness about the meal had Aidan’s eyes determined to close against the young man’s wishes. He lost track of the conversation, listening instead to the sound and inflection of Murron’s speech, a soft smile of contentment on his lips. His mind drifted to their lessons in the garden and he saw in his mind Murron bowing to him and asking him to dance.
“Yes please, Murron,” he murmured, unaware he had spoken aloud until he heard the shocked splutter from Murron and a laugh from his father. His eyes flew open to see Murron’s face tinged with pink and his father grinning broadly. His father supplied the answer to the question his lips refused to form.
“Murron noticed you seemed to be drowsing, my son,” Donal said. “He asked if you wished to retire to bed.”
Aidan’s face positively glowed with embarrassment. What man would ever find him a suitable mate and what must Murron think of him? He mumbled his apology, not daring to meet the older man’s eyes. He was therefore surprised to find his head tilted upwards by an insistent finger.
“Apology accepted, Aidan,” Murron said softly, not wanting to put any barriers between himself and the painfully shy young man. “You have had a tiring day. Sleep well.”
“Thank you,” Aidan whispered. “You, too, Murron. Goodnight, Papa.” Still somewhat disorientated from his faux pas, he bent to kiss his father, something he had always done when the older man had come to wish him ‘goodnight’, but which had stopped over the last year.
Donal felt warmth spread through his body. He had stopped going to his son’s room, thinking the younger man getting too old. He was beginning to realise how little he truly knew of his son. His eyes flitted between Murron and Aidan as they smiled at one another. He was pleased they were getting on so well together. Very pleased.
Time seemed to fly past. Aidan had been an assiduous and adept pupil. However Murron felt that, in truth, the youth was simply proving an excellent mimic. The etiquette and dancing skills he now possessed, as perfect as they were, still seemed stilted and wooden and would remain so on the day of the Ball. The beauty’s heart was not in either and Murron longed to see the ‘real’ Aidan.
Murron watched from the edge of the trees as Aidan practiced his bow and compliments and taking a few little dance steps alone. Away from the classroom, and other’s eyes, the young man was possessed of grace and lightness of foot and Murron’s heart ached to see Aiden so relaxed when thinking he was alone and unobserved. They had dined late that afternoon, as Donal had to travel into town for some last-minute arrangements, but Aidan had still requested the outside lessons.
“That’s a lovely shade of blue. May I have this dance?” Aidan kissed an imaginary hand, unaware of the eyes that followed his every moved. He lost himself in the arms of his imaginary lover, knowing only that he would be tall and broad like Murron and wishing he would possess the same haunting hazel eyes.
“Very good, Aidan,” Murron applauded briefly.
Aidan whirled and almost over balanced.
Murron put out a steadying hand and found himself once more with an armful of beautiful youth. The temptation to kiss the pink lips, open in an ‘oh’ of surprise was almost overwhelming. It took a feat of self-control Murron barely knew himself capable of not to give in to temptation. Donal had entrusted his son to him and he would not take advantage of the young ingénue.
As with previous nights, they added a late-evening class to the one in the classroom. The dancing went well. Murron found that Aidan remained light on his feet although his attention seemed to focus on holding onto Murron and watching his every move.
“Talking would be appropriate, Aidan. Your partner is going to expect a compliment or comment,” Murron gestured with their clasped hands. “Something like; ‘your eyes are as dark and majestic as the heavens’,” he added. Although he used it as an example, Murron spoke the words from his heart.
Aidan looked up, a worried frown on his face.
“Talk and dance? At the same time? I can see a catastrophic event in the offing,” Aidan smiled and blushed.
Murron laughed softly. The young man seemed happy to denigrate himself. It was as though he was trying to pre-empt and defuse potential criticism.
“Aidan, do not keep putting yourself down,” he chided softly.” I often find it appreciated when I am dark and brooding. Perhaps that might work.” He knew it would not, the young male he held was too boyish to achieve such a feat, but something prodded the older man into seeing how the younger man responded.
“Oh, yes, Murron, you do it so well,” Aidan sighed. He continued moving almost dreamily, looking shyly up at his dance partner.
They continued to practice, their movements flowing and they waltzed around the glade without a stumble. They stopped by the well and, for a brief moment, Murron felt a familiar stirring at his groin before quickly stepping away from the man in his arms. They practiced dining etiquette again and then it was time for Aidan to retire.
“Thank you, Murron,” Aidan said sleepily, before hiding a yawn.
“It is my pleasure,” Murron smiled, doffing a slight bow.
“No, ’tis mine,” Aidan whispered as he wandered back to the house, unaware that the softly spoken words had been heard. He did not know how or when or even why, but his heart was filled with love for the quietly-spoken, reserved man. However, he was sure Murron only saw him as a pupil, or as his friend’s son. He did not see him as a man or as a possible mate. Aidan was certain that when Murron finally left, his heart would shatter and yet knew not how to confess his feelings. His heart was heavy as he returned to his room.
Donal spotted his son hastening towards the windows that led into the garden and knew he was meeting Murron.
“Aidan, a moment if you please,” he called.
“Yes, Papa?” Aidan asked as he instantly stopped.
“The Ball is but a few days away,” Donal said, choosing his words with care. “Are you looking forward to it?”
“I…I do not want to disappoint you, Papa,” Aidan whispered. He did not know how to answer truthfully that he dreaded it.
“Aidan,” Donal said softly, his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You are intelligent and graceful.” He had taken Murron’s advice and quietly observed Aidan dancing in the garden with his friend. It was quite a different Aidan from the wooden one he saw in the classroom and the sight had given him much to consider. “And even if, which I know will not happen, you stood on your dance partner’s foot in each and every dance you had, you would still not disappoint me. I seek your happiness, Aidan. Always.” He pressed a kiss to his son’s cheek and another to the top of the dark tresses as he was impetuously hugged tightly.
“Thank you, Papa. I love you,” Aidan husked from the broadness of Donal’s chest.
“I love you, my son. Now go and exhaust Murron and have fun,” he added. His smile turned thoughtful as Aidan scampered happily away.
Finally, it was the night of the Ball and Aidan was dressed and staring at his reflection and the image he presented. He wore well-fitting, black velvet pants, a white silk shirt with flowing sleeves and a simple black, sleeveless bolero jacket, in which was the requisite and detested white rose. His shoes were polished to a high shine and his hair tied in a ponytail with black velvet ribbon. He took a deep breath and went to his tutor’s room. Tapping on it he stood and waited for Murron to answer. As the door opened, he turned slowly for the older man’s approval.
Murron felt a glow of satisfaction at his protégé, although he wished there was another word he could employ to describe the beautiful youth.
“You look good, Aidan. Let’s us go to your father. I can already hear the music from here.”
Aiden let himself be passed into his father’s care as Murron evaporated from sight. The young man felt bereft at his absence, but tried to push it from his mind.
“If you are asked by one that does not please you for a dance, or more, you have the right to refuse, Aidan,” his father whispered in his ear. “I want your happiness. I would regret for the rest of my life you chose, or allowed yourself to be chosen, just for my sake. I love you, my son.”
“I love you, too,” the younger man swallowed. He felt his father’s lips on his brow and then there was an insistent push in the small of his back.
“Murron has said how well you now dance. Go and have fun, Aidan.” He plucked the rose from Aidan’s jacket, settling it in a buttonhole for himself. “I should perhaps have told you I had decided against you wearing this sooner. Now you are just one of the revellers,” he smiled. “Dance with whoever you want as much as you wish. I will be near the house and if at any time you feel uncomfortable, come to me.”
“Yes, Papa, thank you,” Aidan smiled back. Relief and joy flooded his system and he hugged his father tightly. He put on his gold mask with golden wig and took a deep breath.
Donal nodded his approval as Aidan moved forward. Those few simple words had been enough to clearly infuse confidence into his boy. Aiden’s movements went from wooden to graceful and his head was high. His friend had been right. Aidan needed freedom to find the right one to love and who would love him equally in return. The thought in his mind, Donal’s smile suddenly widened. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, plucking at his beard as was his habit when thinking deeply. An idea had been blossoming in his mind for some days now. He decided it was time to see if it bore fruit. With a last affectionate look in the direction of his son, he moved swiftly away. If he was right, he would be a very happy man.
Aidan bowed as he left a young woman glowing from their dance. She had stood aside, as he had done so often, and he had felt impelled to draw her from the shadows. He grinned behind his mask to see that there were now two potential partners for her to choose from.
“You dance very well.”
The voice made Aidan start and he whirled quickly. His mask muffled his gasp at the man before him. He was tall and broad, so achingly similar in build to Murron that the young man bit back a soft groan. He was dressed in figure-hugging, midnight-blue velvet pants and matching jacket. His shirt was cream and ruffled down the front. His mask was silver and decorated with peacock feathers, so it was impossible to detect anything of the man’s face or eyes. A white wig fell to his shoulders.
“Thank you, sir,” Aiden said with a slight bow. “I had an excellent teacher,” he added, his voice unconsciously wistful.
“She must be proud of you,” the stranger replied.
“He,” Aidan corrected instantly. “And I would like to think he is.”
“Would you care to walk with me, perhaps dance?”
Aidan considered the request and nodded his acquiescence.
They walked in silence down the slight hill through the tree-lined grove, passing men and women in brightly coloured dress and elaborate masks and wigs. Some were engrossed in their dancing, bodies pressed tightly together.
“Here,” his companion selected, choosing the secluded niche where the well stood. “Where I may have you to myself.”
Aidan blushed to the roots of his hair, glad the other man could not see. He could not help but wish it was he and Murron dancing together by the well. Then he found himself whisked into strong arms and whirled effortlessly and expertly around the small clearing. He was surprised at how comfortable he felt in the strong arms. One dance was followed by another until Aidan was panting from the exertion.
“Please, sir, I must catch my breath,” he gasped.
“I am reluctant to let you leave my arms,” the older man rasped.
Aidan felt a sudden frisson and pushed with a strength his boyish frame belied.
“I…I am sorry, sir,” he said, quickly putting distance between himself and the bigger male. “I did not mean for you to expect more from me than a dance.”
“You are already spoken for?” the other man asked.
“Yes…no,” Aidan said, his head dropping. “No,” he whispered. “But I do wish to be loved by them, sir.”
“He does not return your love?”
“He does not even know how I feel,” Aidan sighed, not even noticing that the stranger had said ‘he’. “Even if he did, I do not know that he would return my feelings or that my father would approve.”
“And if you thought he could return them, you would be happy?”
“Oh yes, sir,” Aiden replied, his eyes shining.
“What makes you so certain it is love? You sound very young. Have you loved before?”
“No, sir,” Aidan whispered. “I never mixed with others to learn of love, my father became very protective after my mother died. Yet when I am with Mu…with him, my heart soars and I feel as though I could fly and reach the heavens,” Aidan said, quickly covering up the name of the man he loved. “There are times when he gets a kind of glint in his eyes and his left eyebrow raises just before he makes a remark which makes my stomach flutter and his laugh…I wish I could make him laugh and his eyes shine like that all the time.”
“Look at me, Aidan,” the man husked and slowly removed his mask.
Aidan’s eyes widened as Murron stood before him and then he was in the bigger man’s arms as the world suddenly greyed and he felt he would swoon.
“Are you ill?” Murron asked as he held the young beauty. He removed Aidan’s mask quickly in case it impeded the youth’s breaths and watched as impossibly long lashes fluttered against a too-pale cheek.
“Murron?” Aiden whispered. He mourned the loss of the strong arms as he was released to stand before the other man.
“Aye, ’tis me,” the older man whispered. “Your father came and asked whether I felt more than friendship for you and I confessed my heart. I had held my tongue lest he thought I had taken advantage of you in some way. He believed and I prayed that you might feel the same for me and it seems we were correct.”
Aiden’s small hands reached and framed the face of the man he had fallen in love with.
“If I am still able to make my choice this night, Murron, I choose you, if you will have me?” Aidan’s voice was tremulous. It was one thing to have let the older man know how he felt, but did Murron feel enough in return to want Aiden as a life-mate.
“How could I refuse?” Murron whispered. “No one has ever made me feel as you do. Let me kiss you, my sweet one, please.”
Aidan blushed and nodded hesitantly. His eyes fluttered closed and lips opened on a sigh as he was enveloped in strong arms once more.
Murron moved closer and gently kissed trembling lips. ‘Sweet, just as I knew he would be’, he thought as he looked at the vision of loveliness he held. But Aidan’s eyes remained closed and simply swayed closer in Murron’s arms. He licked his lips unconsciously and Murron found himself watching that small movement, wanting to feel the wet, pink muscle entwined with his own.
“I think I need another, my sweet” he husked as Aidan’s eyes finally opened slowly and gazed into Murron’s, shining with the depth of emotion the younger man felt. Murron reached out and pulled the unresisting body tightly against his, feeling Aidan’s soft body encased in silk and velvet. One arm was at the small of Aidan’s back, the other across his shoulders, melding the slender frame tightly to his.
Slowly, he lowered his mouth to the tempting lips that were still parted and slid his tongue into the honey-sweet depths. Aidan opened as Murron pressed deeper and Murron found the different tastes and textures more intoxicating than anything he had ever experienced. They were both gasping for breath when he finally drew back to look at the young man. Aidan’s faced was flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed and his body aroused. The bulge at the dark beauty’s groin was so irresistible that Murron covered it possessively.
“I love you,” he husked. “Are you certain you want me? I could not bear it if I were offered paradise only for it to be cruelly taken away in the light of day.”
“I love you, Murron. I want you. I will not change my mind. Come, let us find Papa and let him know. Will you believe me then?”
“I think I shall only believe I have truly awakened from my dreams when I have you naked and writhing beneath me,” Murron growled. The low moan and hitch of slender hips, pressing the enticing hardness into his hand almost undid the older male. He forced his hand to move away. “However, I will be appeased for now by speaking to your father.”
A year went by, for two with interminable slowness, for one faster than any preceding year.
For the sake of Aidan’s reputation, Murron moved out of his friend’s house. He briefly went home to arrange for its sale and when he returned, took up lodgings in the town. He met with Aidan daily and they walked in the gardens. It became more and more difficult to refrain from touching hidden sweetness, but Murron was determined that Aidan would remain virgin till their wedding day.
For Donal, there was a wedding to arrange with all the intricacies it involved, invites to be penned and sent and his wedding present to the couple to complete; a lodge in his grounds. He was building them a home that was big enough for the couple to be comfortable in, far enough away from his house for their privacy and yet near enough that his son could wander to visit him easily every day. He was glad that he had heeded Murron’s words, and more, that he had recognised the hidden feelings his friend had for his son. He had never seen either man look so happy. The Valentine Ball, although in unexpected ways, had resulted in Aidan finding love. It was all Donal’s heart could ever have asked for.
Aidan and Murron burst laughingly into their bedroom. All the necessary formalities were over and they were finally… finally married. They had stayed for the post-wedding party for as short a time as was decent and required of the newly wedded. Then, with a quiet farewell to Donal, they had literally run to their new home. They gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes and Aidan slid into Murron’s arms and then that laughing mouth was on his and they were sharing a breath that seemed to last forever. The older man’s lips moved across his cheek and down his neck, trailing fire in their wake.
“Do you feel ready to go further this night, my sweet love?” Murron husked in a voice like dark velvet in Aidan’s ear.
“Oh, yes, Murron,” Aidan arched at the fire that ignited when Murron moved his mouth from his ear and nibbled at the base of his throat. The heat seemed to radiate in waves and made him ache for more.
Slowly, reverently, Murron denuded the lithe physique, a low groan of adoration escaping his lips as the beauty of Aidan’s nakedness was revealed to him. He fell to his knees, stroking the soft skin of Aidan’s thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses across the warm belly. The youth’s manhood was erect and a glistening pearl caught Murron’s eye. Leaning forward, he licked it away, the taste as sweet and addictive as he had known it would be. The soft cry and bucking of slender hips reminded him of Aidan’s innocence. Murron stopped what he was doing and moved back up to stand beside him. His dark eyes were tender as he gazed at his young, virginal mate.
“Show me how to please you, Murron,” Aidan begged,
“Aidan, you are beautiful, gentle and loving and every touch you give me or permit me is a gift that I have never received before. The unique gift of yourself and that pleases me more than I can ever put into words.”
Aidan blushed scarlet and reached up a trembling hand, still hardly believing that he could, that they were truly here, and married, about to consummate their love and brushed the hair from the brow of his husband. Murron caught the small hand and nestled a kiss into the palm that sent a shard like lightning up Aidan’s arm.
“There is so much more to experience, Aidan. Let me show you.” Murron’s dark eyes glowed with barely controlled desire.
Aidan found himself panting, aching, fearing and wanting all at the same time from the knowledge of what Murron wanted to do with him, to him. Aidan gasped as he was swept into Murron’s arms and carried with ease to the bed. It was a magnificent four-poster and as Aidan regarded it with mounting excitement and trepidation he could see the single, red rose that adorned the white, linen pillow. He was laid on a thick, soft coverlet of forest green and could not resist writhing as Murron climbed to straddle him.
“Now I believe my dreams have come true,” Murron rasped as he covered the slender body with his own.
Aidan’s movements increased at the sensations flowing through his body and the words spoken in such desire-drenched tones. The thick hair on Murron’s chest and legs tickled his smooth skin. Curls enmeshed where their groins met and Aidan could not help but arch into the solid body that covered his, wanting, needing something to ease the ache in his throbbing manhood.
Murron dropped his head to capture Aidan’s lips as his lover’s hands clutched his shoulders to pull him closer. Their tongues moved in a slow, sweet dance whilst one of Murron’s hands slipped between them and gathered both shafts in one powerful embrace. His fingers pressed swollen flesh together, increasing friction, pre-come flowing freely to help them slide together.
Aidan felt his blood rising and heating and desperately sought release. But more than his own pleasure, he wanted to give Murron the gift of glory. He was uncertain of how to achieve his aim and his brain was partially befuddled with the actions to his own body. However, his hands began to move down the powerful, muscular back and fell of their own volition on the narrow hips, pulling Murron closer in time to his own upward thrusts. He moaned and writhed as pleasure built on pleasure until nothing existed but heat and passion and he began to pulse out his release. With a surge of delight he heard Murron groan and his lover’s cream poured onto his tingling skin.
They lay in a satiated afterglow, their harsh breathing slowly returning to normal. Aidan had never felt anything like this before. He had stroked himself and attained release, but this feeling seemed to envelop him in softness and boneless contentment as Murron nuzzled at his breasts, sucking each in turn. He was taken unawares as his body, despite its completion, began to respond to Murron’s ministrations. He gasped and wriggled erotically as his lover’s tongue bathed his body, cleansing him. Then his eyes widened as Murron ran his finger over his own body to collect some of the crème that adorned his skin.
“Taste us, love,” he whispered. “Taste how sweet we are.”
Aidan opened his mouth and sucked in the two digits offered to him. There was saltiness as well as sweetness, but the thought that it was Murron he tasted sent dulcet bolts to his lower belly, his groin tightened and his sex twitched. He moaned encouragingly as Murron resumed the intimate caresses he had begun earlier. He spread his legs wider, offering himself as large hands trailed languidly down to his sac, squeezing the precious orbs, gently sliding them together and apart. Then Murron was kissing him again and Aidan moaned when one thick, oil slick finger breached his most private place. He tensed instinctively as muscles tried to clamp tightly, but Murron just moved the digit in and out slowly, mimicking the movement with his tongue. Aidan slowly relaxed, curious as to what came next.
“It gets better, love. Just relax, just my fingers for now, my sweet,” Murron whispered encouragingly, running his tongue around Aidan’s ear to tickle the sensitive skin.
“I trust you,” Aidan murmured as Murron moved down to suckle on one of his nipples. “Oh, that feels so good.”
The pleased rumble against his chest sent a wave of need through his body and when Murron’s finger slid out he felt bereft. Then there were two pushing inside him, wriggling around in little movements. The fullness had grown comfortable when the fingers surged even deeper and Aidan screamed as pleasure ignited within him. He bucked and writhed, his eyes opening wide with shock. He looked to Murron for reassurance and saw the older man regarding him with a tender smile on his lips.
“What was that?” He cried out as it happened again, flames of passion sending a torrent of heat to suffuse his lower body.
“It is pleasurable?” Murron asked, watching him closely.
Aidan moaned, pushing back onto the tormenting fingers and Murron relaxed and smiled.
“I think ‘yes’,” the older man murmured. Murron moved his other hand to a firm grip on Aidan’s resurgent sex.
Aidan did not know how to deal with the dual stimulus. He wanted to push down and thrust up and the fire was raging inside him. He thrashed, almost mindlessly, pleas spilling from his kiss-swollen lips.
“Murron, what can I do for you? Show me how to make you feel as good,” he pleaded.
Murron’s eyes seemed to blaze with the same inferno consuming Aidan.
“I need to be inside you, so deep that I reach your heart. It will hurt at first, I will not lie, and I am willing to wait as long as you need, my sweet. It need not be this night. We can stop here.” Murron made the offer although the older man wanted nothing more than to sink into his beautiful mate’s virginal heat.
“No,” Aidan insisted, reaching for Murron’s prodigious manhood, stroking it hesitantly. “We both need this and then we’ll truly be as one. Please, Murron, consummate our love.”
Murron tenderly cupped his lover’s flushed face, kissing Aidan’s soft lips.
“No one has ever offered such a beautiful gift to me,” he husked. Murron then began an amatory assault on every one of Aidan’s newly discovered weaknesses, sucking an earlobe, nibbling down the expanse of exposed throat, a gentle bite to nipples hard and proud from earlier attentions.
Pleasure built on pleasure within Aidan until his entire body was ablaze with need. He moaned continuously, allowing Murron to touch him as he willed. He felt unable to move under his own volition except to writhe. Tormenting fingers, slick with oil, delved deep inside him. A third crowded inside to stretch him wide. Aidan was bereft when the fingers withdrew and he was positioned on his side away from the bigger male. He whimpered needily, reassured only when Murron crooned in his ear. His hands then clutched the bed linen when Murron spooned up tight against his back, nudging his legs upwards, his iron-hard phallus like a brand against Aidan’s buttocks.
“Relax, Aidan. Breathe deep,” Murron’s deep voice instructed him. “I’m going to enter you.”
Aidan obeyed but before he could exhale, Murron pushed in. Aidan cried out at the unexpected pain, his virginal sheath clenching in protest and he tried to pull away. Strong arms kelp him in place and he struggled to find breath.
“Relax and breathe, Aidan,” Murron pleaded, willing to withdraw if his lover could not cope. Then a small hand gripped his thigh. In response, the older man’s hands stroked soothingly up and down Aidan’s chest, tweaking each taut teat and fondling flaccid flesh whilst he remained unmoving within the tightness of Aidan’s body.
Aidan took a deep breath as instructed, then another. Slowly, he felt his muscles unclench and tentatively relax around the desired intruder. Pain became a dull ache and the fullness grew satisfying. His hips moved fractionally and, at the almost subliminal invitation, Murron slowly slid completely home and for Aidan only the delicious feeling of being filled with the man he loved finally remained.
“Aidan, you are mine.” Murron had never experienced such tight, searing heat. It was sublime, paradise, and he knew he would never want another. The man in his arms was truly the other half of his soul.
Murron’s words were spoken hotly into his ear, and the heat of his breath seemed to scorch Aidan’s very soul.
“Yours,” he ceded on a sigh, content to lie that way forever. He felt loved, desired and completed in a way he never knew possible.
Murron began a careful slide backwards making Aidan restless, but as he thrust forward he brushed Aidan’s jewel, making his lover cry out in delight. As his hips moved faster, urging him closer towards glory, Murron became lost in passion. It was ecstasy, it was destiny. He had never experienced this level of pleasure or depth of connection for any other than the special young man he loved. It seemed as though the tight sheath of Aidan’s body had been designed especially for him or his flesh to fit perfectly inside his lover. Or just that they were made for each other.
Aidan twisted the linen in his hands, pushing back in instinctive movements, but Murron held his hips still and thrust with a controlled power. Aidan slowly became a being that existed for pleasure. The flames of passion burned higher, brighter, more intense, infusing Aidan’s body with an almost irresistible need to erupt or combust. Murron’s hand reached around and stroked his maleness, flicking a practised thumb over the increasingly sensitised head with every upstroke. Finally the fire within could be contained no more. Aidan erupted, his release fountaining free, his voice a scream of pure bliss. Dimly, he heard an echoing shout from the bigger male and he felt pulse after pulse of liquid fire filling him.
Murron kissed the man in his arms. Passion was currently no more smouldering embers but he knew it would take but a look from Aidan to fan them back into an inferno. He felt himself slip from paradise and he so he turned and cradled his new husband to his chest, stroking the slim arm that draped leadenly across his waist. So soft and yet so strong, he thought. He smiled into sated sienna depths.
“I thought the Valentine Ball would be my doom,” Aidan whispered, his throat hoarse from screaming. “Instead it brought me my destiny. I love you so much, Murron.”
“And I you. I never thought that answering Donal’s plea for help would lead me to my heart’s desire and yet I have it here in my arms. Happy Valentine’s Day, my sweet.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Aidan replied.
Their lips met and Murron moved to take his place between his husband’s spread thighs once more. As their tongues sinuously slid against one another, passion ignited anew and, as darkness fell, the sound of lovers lost in mutual pleasure permeated long into the night.