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Fiction~~Ice Wind's Bride~~Ch. 3

Bey kissed him again.  His lips were hot and wet; Silva would swear Bey had found a way to grope his mouth with his tongue. Bey backed away from the door and Silva followed, still kissing.  God but Bey could kiss.  Silva had seen him spend over an hour just moving his lips over some man or woman’s face, but he’d never thought just how fantastic he must be at it.  All that damn practice, he thought vaguely, pulling at Bey’s dark hair and plunging his tongue into Bey’s mouth.  It was drawn in and suckled immediately.  Fire. His belly was already on fire, burning.  His body jolted, surprised as Bey’s strong fingers suddenly dug into his bottom, pulling his hips close to grind their erections together. 

He couldn’t stop his hips from shoving forward as he let go of Bey’s head to pull at his clothing.  One of the ties ripped and he simply continued, yanking at it without releasing Bey’s lips until it was dealt with.  His hands had access to Bey’s tanned, sculpted chest and abs and he sighed shakily as he ran his palms over them.  Bey was compact, sturdy rather than sleek, and Silva didn’t think he’d been so excited to touch someone else’s flesh in his life.  Bey reached up, yanked his hands away, and ripped at his shirt until he was a bare chested as Bey.  With a grunt, Bey pulled Silva close again before he could touch him further.

His own hairless chest slid against coarse hair.  It made his nipples hard and sensitive, every little hair teasing his skin, until Bey moved away, bending his head and using his tongue to tease them instead. Silva grabbed at him, digging his hands into the heavy mane of black hair.  It crackled against his palms and he tugged, trying to get Bey to pull back so he could kiss him again.  He yelped as Bey bit him.  Bey licked the wound once; Silva was pretty sure it would bleed.

“I call the shots today, Princess.  You already got your turn,” Bey growled.  He licked down Silva’s stomach, made him think maybe his lips were heading to his cock, and then he yanked at the front ties to Silva’s pants.  Trying to help, frantic to get them off, Silva grunted as his hands were slapped away.

“Mine. Back off.”

Silva moaned as his erection was released into Bey’s hands.  His lover pulled his pants down to his thighs, licked the head of his cock teasingly, and then pulled the pants down harshly and shoved.  Silva toppled backwards, his knees hitting the foot of Bey’s cot just before the rest of him followed and he flopped onto his back.  His pants snagged on his ankles and Bey growled a moment before he got them free and threw them halfway across the room.

Lying on the cot, his calves hanging over the end, he was just figuring out what had happened when Bey practically jumped on him.  Bey’s hips were between his legs, the rough canvas of his leggings rubbing against his member.  Bey leaned down over Silva just as Silva reached around Bey’s back and bucked into him, rubbing himself against the hard bulge pushing at his groin.  Bey shoved his face down into Silva’s, devouring his mouth again, biting and sucking savagely as his hips slammed against Silva’s.  His fingers gripped and slid through Silva’s hair while Silva hung on tightly.  Silva’s fingernails were digging into the dark skin as he grunted with the effort of keeping the muscles of his chest pressed against Bey’s.  Bey was so damn hot, his skin slicked with sweat and shining and gorgeously male.  He smelled musky and coarse.  It made Silva want to suck on his skin and taste the bitterness of it.  Bey suddenly shoved him down and away, breaking his grip, and his blunt fingers fumbled with the ties at the front of his own pants. 

“Gonna take you hard, Princess.” Bey growled, pushing his pants down past his hips and freeing his own dusky cock.  He pushed Silva’s legs up towards his stomach roughly, his hand gripping Silva’s thighs.  “Fucking married, are we?  Then we’ll fucking act like it.  Take you so hard you can’t sit for a week.” Bey’s eyes were fierce as he looked into Silva’s face. 

Silva swallowed.  His own cock was hard and aching, even the friction of his own stomach against it was too much to bear, but now that it was time, he wasn’t sure.  He could see Bey’s erection between his legs, larger than his, darker, and he felt it press against the entrance to his ass. His nerves tightened.  He wanted this: hard and violent and throbbing.  Bey was so large, though.  How much was this going to hurt?

“Bey, I’m not sure – AAAAAAAAH!”   Bey slammed into him with one hard thrust and he screamed.  Oh God, that hurt!  Burning, slicing pain all the way into his body; it was like being stabbed! 

Bey stayed inside him, still watching his face, and Silva bit his lip to keep from crying out again.  He could tolerate this.  He’d done this to Bey, hadn’t he?  If the man had taken Silva inside his body, Silva could do the same.   He just hadn’t thought it would hurt so badly to have someone enter him!  He closed his eyes.  It had to get better.  Men would never agree to bottom more than once if things didn’t improve from this point.  Bey groaned and leaned forward against Silva’s legs. 

“Shit.  Fuck.  Dammit to hell’s outhouse.  Forgot you haven’t done this before; don’t even know when to relax, do you?  Dammit, didn’t mean to hurt you like that.  You and your tight little ass are gonna fucking kill me, Silva.” Bey’s breathing came in pants as Silva opened his eyes to see his angry, frustrated face above him. 

“It’s not too bad,” he lied hoarsely.

“Bullshit.  You look like you’re getting an arm sawed off, for fuck’s sake.  I totally bungled this.  Dammit.” Bey started to pull out and Silva pulled at the ends of his hair before he could totally withdraw.  This might be the last sex he ever had!  It didn’t matter if it was painful; he wasn’t going to have it end like this!

“No, you don’t have to stop!  I’ll get used to it.”

Bey raised one eyebrow at him, obviously surprised, and smiled slowly.  The heated look on his face made Silva’s cock twitch.  

“Silva, you’re out of your mind if you think for one second that I’m done with you.  That, and you’re forgetting who the hell you’re talking to.” Silva flushed and let go of his hair.

“Then what –“

“Supplies, Princess. Just because I fucked up for a minute doesn’t mean I can’t make it feel a hell of a lot better.”  Bey let Silva’s legs drop and he moved until he could reach the one poorly made drawer by the cot.  He reached inside and pulled out an old glass bottle of rosy colored oil.  “Now we can play rough and everybody’s still happy.”

Silva watched nervously as Bey poured the oil over his own cock, and then drizzled it over Silva’s body as well.  He corked the bottle, dropped it back on the table, and then began to rub the drops of oil into Silva’s skin.  His hands slid smoothly over Silva’s cock and balls, rubbing and teasing them until they ached.  Silva thought he might even come, and then one heavy finger slicked over his anus and pushed in, dragging the oil with it.  Silva tensed, but the intense pain of before was absent.  There was a strange, full sensation that made him squirm as Bey pushed his finger in deeper, moving it slowly.  Bey watched Silva’s face as he withdrew and grabbed the bottle again, adding more oil and tossing it aside.  Two fingers pushed in slowly, twisting in ways that caused Silva to shiver.  Bey suddenly grinned fiercely and he rubbed something inside that made Silva’s eyes widen and his body arch off the cot.

“Now THAT is what I’m looking for.  Let’s try this again, huh?”  Silva thought he might be in shock as Bey removed his hand and grabbed Silva’s legs again.  Bey thrust in just as suddenly as he’d done the first time, but the pain was so much less.  More full and strange than painful.  Bey leaned over Silva’s body and he leered.

“Now we can have a good fuck.  You just lay back and hang on for the ride, Princess.  I am gonna blow your little mind.”

Blow his mind?  Silva winced at the slight pain as Bey withdrew and thrust again, leaning so that Silva’s legs were up high and wide.  He couldn’t have controlled what Bey was doing if he tried.  His erection was rubbing against his stomach with each thrust, still hard and aching.  He reached up, grabbing at Bey’s head again, and tried to pull him down to kiss those full, wide lips and take his mind from the pain.  Before he got there, Bey shifted and the next thrust made him gasp at an unexpected shock of pleasure so sharp it stung. 

“Gotcha.” Bey murmured, and let Silva take his head.  He kept his hands pressing against Silva’s legs as he began to thrust into Silva’s body, forcing hard thrumming near-orgasms with each penetration.  Silva plunged his tongue into Bey’s mouth, refusing to let him go as his body began rocking from the force of Bey's thrusts.  The pain was washed over with gut clenching pleasure that built, winding itself around Silva’s erection, clenching his balls tight.  He tried to arch up and move, failed, and finally hung on as his body soaked up the heat and pulsing bursts of lust coming from his ass and his chest and…

“Aaaaaah! God, Bey!  Bey, please!  Bey!” 

With a hoarse grunt, Bey slammed himself into Silva’s body so hard that Silva began to slide up the cot.  Silva would swear he felt Bey coming inside his body, pouring into him.  Bey reached between them, releasing one of Silva’s legs to grab his cock, and he pumped his hips slower in time with his hands until Silva came, crying out against Bey’s mouth.  He thought he might be weeping. 

Bey continued moving, slowly, his hips gliding now, until Silva and he drifted down.  When Silva’s breathing softened, he released Bey’s hair and lay limply draped over the cot. Bey let Silva’s other leg drop and pulled out of his body.

“Scoot up.  You’ll feel like shit if you leave your legs hanging over the edge like that.”

Silva opened his eyes to look at him and fumbled his way up until he was fully on the cot.  Bey got in beside him and lay sideways, watching as he reached over and played with a stray hair coming out of Silva’s braid.

“That,” Bey said quietly, his breathing still irregular. “Was fucking worth the wait.”

Silva laughed softly and let Bey fiddle with his hair as he tried to come to grips with what had just happened.  So.  That was what bottoming was like.  His ass burned, but the rest of his body was so sated and thrumming that he didn’t honestly care.   He reached up and touched his tattoo gently.  Maybe it would never happen again, but it felt right that they had at least one time to remember.  The fact that it had been wild and sweaty and painful and amazing seemed so utterly ‘Bey’ that he laughed again to himself.

“You’re a very rough lover, Bey,” he finally said.

“Depends on my mood,” Bey responded nonchalantly.  “Next time, I’m gonna fuck you softly for hours until you beg for mercy.”

“Next time?”  Tentatively, quietly.

“Well, yeah.  We’re still friends, right?” Bey looked up at him, suddenly uncomfortable and showing it.  “That didn’t piss you off too badly or anything, right?  I mean…it was just sex.”

Silva’s post-sexual high faded a little, but he smiled automatically.  “Of course.  Just sex.  We’ll have to do it again sometime.”



Bey’s flushed, happy feeling dropped like a stone. Best sex he’d had in who knew how long, and this was Silva’s response? He’d heard Silva use that tone of voice before, but only when he was giving someone the brush off.  He knew he’d hurt him in the beginning, but he’d thought the end had made up for it.  Fuck.

“Princess, if you don’t wanna fucking do it again, just come out and say so.” Dammit, it really pissed him off sometimes, how Silva would be so polite instead of saying what he really thought.

“No, I didn’t say that,” Silva said quickly.  “We can do it again.”

Bey looked at him.  Something was off.  He didn’t know what the hell it was, but Silva wasn’t acting right.   Well, he was really uptight and all.  Maybe he was always this way after sex or something?

He’d have to pay attention and see next time.  And overly polite responses or not, there was so definitely going to be a next time.  That had been way the fuck too fantastic not to repeat.  Silva’s ass was damn tight, and the way his breath had caught in his throat with every little moan he made was the biggest ego boost Bey’d ever had.

Silva smelled good, too.  Which was weirder than hell, because Bey usually didn’t care about crap like that, but Silva’s smell had been a total turn on.  Kind of cool and minty.  Bey rolled closer, plopping his arm over Silva’s waist just because he could.  Silva’s body felt nice, sleek and strong and smooth.  Warm.  Silva shivered and Bey scooted in a little closer. 

He wasn’t a big fan of cuddling and all that post-sex shit, but Silva was hot enough that he could snuggle without feeling weird about it.

“Bey,” Silva’s voice was soft.  “We need to talk.”

Bey yawned.  “Talk away, Princess. I’m just gonna fucking pass out, but don’t let that stop you.” He grunted as Silva pinched his forearm.  “Ow!  Pinching? What are you, a freaking girl?”

“This is serious, Bey!  The marriage…”

“Yeah, still pissed about that.  You should drop it.” Bey felt himself starting to get angry again, although not quite as much as when Silva had tried to walk out on him.  Marriage, in his opinion, was giving someone power over you for the rest of your damn life.  You married someone, then they had the right to bitch about spending money, drinking, sex, whatever the hell they wanted to.  He’d never met anyone he fucking trusted enough to give that power to, and now he was stuck with Silva. 

But Silva was damn well stuck with him, too, so what the hell had Silva thought he was doing, trying to go out when Bey was still pissed at him?  Idiot.  He could fucking go out when Bey was damn well ready for him to. 

He was surprised he’d even tried, though.  Out of everyone he knew, Silva was the most stuck on marriage.  The little priss actually lectured some of the married men when they went out carousing and got too frisky with the tavern wenches. Yet he hadn’t been married a full day before he’d tried to go out to show off his little ass at some tavern.  He’d better not go thinking he had the right to go out on his own, not until Bey figured out what the hell he was going to do.

He closed his eyes as he tried to think clearly. There weren’t that many options. He could ignore the tattoos and pretend it had never happened. He could use his new status as a married man to get some of the women who liked to feel they were stealing someone away from someone else. He could…stay married and act like it was real.

He started laughing to himself.  When hell froze over.  Feeling Silva’s skin underneath his hand as his lover shifted, he licked his lips at the other possibility.

He could use this as an excuse to screw Silva blind until he was tired of it, and THEN act like it had never happened.

Bey opened his eyes to slits and examined Silva’s face as the man stared at the ceiling, his forehead crinkling in worry.  Silva was damn sexy, his body was tight and responsive, and he was conservative as hell.  Bey wasn’t sure why the big baby had tried to walk out earlier, but he did know that if he pretended to go along with the marriage, Silva would too.  He knew Silva; the man’s honor was like a pole perpetually shoved up his ass.  He’d completely throw himself into being married. 

He’d be willing to have sex with Bey whenever Bey wanted.  And right now, he thought he was going to be wanting it a whole hell of a lot.   It would be a week, at least, until they’d exhausted his sexual imagination.  His cock firmed slightly as he thought of what he could do to Silva, and what the man might do to him as well.  A few weeks, maybe.  And when the sex started to get stale, he’d just say it wasn’t working out and Silva’s honor would be satisfied and they’d go back to the way things were before.

That was definitely the way to go.  He’d be able to have a fantastic bit of sex and still have his friendship intact at the end of it.  And another plus: he could never be threatened by father’s wanting him to marry their ‘pure’ daughters after this, if he was already married.

This marriage thing wasn’t too bad at all, now that he’d had a minute to look at it more clearly. 

Bey felt himself getting harder and opened his eyes a little more, letting them trace the contours of Silva’s ivory skin down his chest to the silvered hair of his groin and his soft cock lying there.  How would Silva taste?  His mouth was delicious, his nipples were yummy, but how about his dick?  He wanted to find out. 

How far could he push this?  What kind of marriage did the elementals have, anyway?  Was one of a couple the dominant one?  He had an image of Silva bound and helpless and caught a moan before it left his throat.  Yeah.  They had to try that once, whether or not Silva wanted to.  He would just look too damn hot all tied up, especially if Bey undid his hair.

And if there WAS some sort of role they were forced to assume, it could really work out for him. Maybe he could order Silva to take over cleaning duty or something.  God, that would be a relief.  He hated cleaning.  And Silva wasn’t too bad at it, when he exerted himself.

“…listening, Bey?”

Bey blinked and realized Silva was looking right at him.  He wiped his expression clean. “What?”

“Bey, pay attention!”

“All right, don’t get your corset strings in a knot.  I’m listening.”  And thinking of taking him again.  Totally cliché, but Silva was pretty fuckable looking when he was pissy like this.  And it wasn’t like they were going anywhere else tonight.  Maybe Bey would just take Silva’s cock in his mouth and see how long he could make it last before Silva lost it. 

“We have to leave town, Bey.”

Bey looked at him blankly, barely registering Silva’s face as he saw Silva moaning in ecstasy in his mind’s eye.  “What do you mean, leave?  You want a wedding trip or something, Princess?”  Bey thought about getting time off and spending a week down south in one of the pleasure baths with Silva.  He began to smile lasciviously.  “I could do that.”

Silva was already shaking his head. “No, we have to leave town for good.  We can’t come back, Bey.”

He started to laugh.  “Fuck, don’t be such a little kid.  Just because we got married doesn’t mean we’ve gotta go run away with our tails between our legs.  You have gotta just get over caring what everyone thinks, Princess.”

“That’s not it!  It’s not safe here any longer.  Now that…”

He stopped and Bey’s eyes sharpened at the nervous twitch to his lips.  Bey pushed himself up with his arms until he was sitting on the bed, looking down at Silva.  Silva started to rise as well until Bey pushed a hand on his chest and shoved him back down.

“Now that what?”

Silva closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the end of the bed before he spoke.  “Now that my father knows where I am.”

Bey blew a raspberry. And here he’d thought it was actually something serious. “How the hell would he know?”

“When we got the tattoo –“

Bey rolled his eyes. “What, elementals can read minds once you get married?  Don’t be fucking paranoid.”

“Bey, there’s a reward out for me!  Once that tattooist knew my name, he’d have sent information to my family.”

Bey smirked.  “A reward?  Well hell, your dad’s as freaky about life as you are!   But so the fuck what?  Not like you’re a little kid, Silva.  He can’t put you over his knee or something if he doesn’t like who you’re fucking right now.”

Silva sucked in his breath before he spoke again.  “No, but he could have you killed.”

Bey stared at him.  “Well, can’t say I was expecting that.” He shifted and leaned over Silva’s legs until his shoulders rested against the wall.  Silva’s dear old dad must have a real temper.  “You sure the tattooist would pass on the info?  How much was the reward?  Maybe it’s not worth it.”

“Bey…”

“No, honestly, how much? “

“35,000 gold pieces,” Silva’s voice was flat and Bey’s brain stopped working for a few crucial minutes.  Long enough for Silva to glare at him, shove him off his legs, and get off the bed.  Bey lost another minute just watching Silva’s ass and his limp, frazzled braid as he walked to the other side of the room.   He gloated at the braid.  Ha, gotcha, you silky little cock tease.  You tap that ass again and I’ll just grab it.  He smiled and caught the boot Silva threw at his chest.

“I’m so thrilled you find this amusing.” Silva was up on his high horse again: icy and prissy altogether.

“Eh, calm down.  It’s not like I’m the one turning you in for the money.  Although I think you should gimme some kind of reward for that level of restraint.” Bey looked at Silva’s hips and worked his way up.  He gave him a practiced leer.  “Don’t worry, I’m willing to let you work it off.”

He grunted as his other boot almost got him in the face.

“We should leave by tomorrow.” Silva continued as though Bey hadn’t interrupted him.

“I’m not going anywhere, you idiot.  Your father comes here with some stick up his ass about you marrying a commoner or something…”

Silva froze with his arms halfway into his sleeves.  His face flushed. “C-commoner?  I- I don’t know what you-“

“Please, do I LOOK stupid to you?  You have better manners than members of the council.  Everyone in the guards knows you come from wealth.  We’re just too polite to ask about it.”

“That’s ridiculous, everyone has been quite happy to ask about everyone’s business…”

“All right, so maybe I threatened to kick a little ass if anyone got too nosy.  Same difference.  Thing is, your old man can’t do anything here, so stop freaking out about it.  And will you stop packing??” Bey got to his feet and started across the room.

“You don’t understand,” Silva muttered.  “Don’t forget, my father is one of those ‘elementals’ you were so blithely discussing earlier.  He will take me back, which I’ve been damn well trying to avoid since I came here, and if he doesn’t kill you outright, it’ll be…  It’s best not to think about it.  Please, for once in your stubborn life, just trust me. Get ready to leave.”

“Not gonna happen, Princess. Sorry, but I’m not running away from someone’s damn father.” Bey sighed as he realized Silva was now fully dressed.  There went his hopes for the rest of the night.  Unless he could sweep his legs and pin him just right.  Hmmm.

Silva bit his lip before he snorted.  “I seem to recall you running down Golden Avenue clutching your pants the last time Eva’s father caught you two together.”

“That was different.  The man owns a stable; do you know how many animals he’s gelded?”

“What if I told you my father might do the same thing?”

“I’d say you’re full of shit, but nice try.” 

“Bey, you need to leave town!  Both of us do!”

Bey shook his head, drawing closer.  “Like I said: not gonna happen.  But I do have something that might take your mind off of it.”  Silva had his mouth open to respond when Bey grabbed at him and pushed at the same time, knocking him back onto Silva’s bed.

“Bey, quit being such a juvenile – mmmmph.”  Bey came down onto him and grabbed his hair with his hand as he plastered his lips over Silva’s.  He plunged his tongue in, burrowing his other hand underneath Silva’s tunic and playing with his chest and nipples until Silva stopped struggling and started kissing him back.

He pulled back with a smug smile.  “You can talk to me about leaving later, Princess.  After.”

Panting, Silva tried to push up at him. “Bey, we can’t be intimate all night!  We need to finish discussing this!”

“Hey, we got married, didn’t we?  We’re supposed to be screwing each other every free moment.  It’s a damn law.”

“Bey!  Will you stop it, Bey!”

“Later.  I’ve got people to do right now.” Bey brought his lips back down onto Silva’s and he was happy to notice that he didn’t hear another word about leaving for the rest of the night.