Chapter Five
Caspian sat on the rocky shore of a natural pool, the water rushing around his bare ankles. A sublime waterfall tumbled down from a rock face across from him. Mist sprayed into the air and kept things cool despite the summer heat. Caspian’s palms kissed the cool stone he sat on.
The air smelled almost like rain, as it had in his dream the previous night. But the setting for this dream was outside and not in the candle-lit bedroom.
It was peaceful here. Tranquil. Caspian moved his feet in small, circular motions and spread his toes. The water felt cold and refreshing against his skin.
“You look peaceful.” The voice spoke softly into his ear, but Caspian wasn’t afraid. He turned his head to look at the stranger. They sat side by side. The stranger’s bare thigh brushed against Caspian’s.
“It’s beautiful here,” Caspian said.
“It should be. We’re visiting your mind tonight,” the stranger replied. “I would’ve imagined you’d want something different.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Caspian said.
“That’s fine. I didn’t expect you to. Your eyes and ears are closed.”
The words made sense, and Caspian could almost grasp their meaning, but he couldn’t complete the connection. Instead, he leaned toward the stranger and rested his head on the man’s shoulder, as if they were well acquainted.
Caspian felt complete.
It was a strange thing to feel. He’d never realized he was incomplete. In all regards, he’d lived a full life. He’d gone to school, earned a degree in a subject he loved, had some lasting relationships. He had hopes for the future, even if he didn’t have a path to get there. One day, he wanted a house and a husband, and children who’d share his love of books.
He wanted a quiet job doing quiet things. He wanted peace.
He found that with the stranger—but he also found more. It wasn’t anything as concrete as hopes for a house and a family, but it spoke to his soul in a way that was both comforting and affectionate. It was the same kind of feeling as meeting up with an old friend and realizing that nothing had changed. Picking up on a conversation started and left years earlier.
“Will you tell me who you are?” Caspian asked.
“Maybe.” The stranger looked across the pool at the waterfall.
Caspian lifted his head. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“It would complicate things. You may go ahead and call me Bran.”
“Brandon?”
“No.” Bran turned his head. There was a look in his dark eyes that irritated Caspian and aroused him all at once. “Not like Brandon.”
“Then like?”
“You are impossible, hatchling. So demanding. Why is what I’ve given you not enough?” The words sounded harsh, but the voice remained calm and soothing with a hint of an accent that Caspian couldn’t identify.
Caspian looked away from Bran and toward the waterfall. Mist tumbled across the surface of the pool.
“Mm. I thought so,” Bran said. He pressed a kiss to the side of Caspian’s head. “Bran it is, and Bran it shall be.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, since this is a dream,” Caspian murmured. Then he slipped into the pool.
Beneath the surface of the water, the light acted in strange ways. It glimmered and shone in beams like he’d plunged into the heart of a jewel instead of a body of water. Caspian couldn’t see the bottom. When he emerged he tossed his head back, his black hair slick against his head and neck and he breathed in deep.
Behind him, he heard a splash. The waterfall already disturbed the pond water, so he didn’t feel any of the ripples as the water displaced behind him. It wasn’t until Bran wrapped his arms around Caspian from behind and kissed the back of his neck that Caspian realized Bran had drawn close.
“You’re so beautiful all wet like this,” Bran complimented. “The water beads on your skin like dew on a petal, hatchling. Your hair is so dark.”
Caspian shivered. The water was cold, but Bran’s body was hot. The firm touch of a chest against Caspian’s back felt invigorating. The sparks were back. The air crackled with electric sparks off their bond.
“Are you going to make love to me again?” Caspian whispered, voice far more delicate than he would have liked.
“Would you like me to?”
“Yes.” He felt his heart swell as he gave the reply.
Caspian closed his eyes. They tread water together, but Caspian knew that Bran was supporting much of his weight. Swimming already made Caspian feel weightless, but with Bran there, staying afloat was effortless. And when Bran’s hand crept down Caspian’s abdomen and took hold of Caspian’s shaft, Caspian had never felt so free.
“Is this how it will always be, hatchling? You, needy, and me, so eager to please?” The words sounded as though they came from a mouth that smiled.
“I hope,” Caspian moaned. Bran’s hand started to stroke, and Caspian exhaled and tried to keep himself steady, so he could truly enjoy the pleasure. Treading water made it difficult.
Bran gave an approving groan. “You really are an incredible creature.”
Caspian hardened. His body was eager to react despite the cold water. Bran teased him to fully erect, then guided him to the side of the pool. Caspian rested his arms on the rocks, facing away from Bran, the tension boiling higher inside of him as he was forced to face away from his lover. Bran mounted him from behind, Caspian gasping soundlessly as Bran pressed their bodies together, his thick cock fitting between Caspian’s cheeks easily. Bran’s crown begged entrance at Caspian’s entrance.
With no idea how it happened so quickly, Caspian let him enter.
As if coated in lubricant, of which Caspian was unaware, Bran’s cock sank in with ease, filling him.
Grabbing onto the side of the pool wall with one hand, Bran began rocking into him, his other hand pumping Caspian’s length.
Caspian dropped his head on his arms. He panted and moaned while Bran stretched him and pushed deep. It felt like coming home.
“Are you proud to bear my seed?” Bran whispered into Caspian’s ear, voice pitched low with arousal. “Are you proud to know that you have my everything? That I have chosen you?”
“Yes.” Caspian closed his eyes. His head filled with the thought of his love for his talented lover. “So proud. And I want more.”
“More?” Bran nipped the back of Caspian’s ear.
Caspian shivered and pressed down against him. His balls promised he’d shoot soon, but if they dirty talked like this while Bran stuffed him? Caspian would come much sooner than that.
“So greedy, hatchling. But who am I to deny you?”
It happened so quickly that Caspian didn’t have time to prepare. Heat flooded his guts, and he opened his eyes in surprise from it. Bran hissed low in satisfaction and bucked a few last times, then remained plugged in Caspian’s ass.
He’d shot, Caspian realized. He’d taken another load. Bran’s cum was inside of him.
Fuck, it was hot.
Caspian jerked into Bran’s hand and pushed back against his cock, eager for more. He’d always been so careful with his lovers, but here in his dreams, condoms were the last thing on his mind.
“Do you want more?” Bran asked, voice husky.
“Yes,” Caspian pleaded.
“Climb out of the pool.”
It was agony to part from Bran, but Caspian did so, lifting himself from the pool. Water sloughed off his body and wet the stone he crawled onto. Bran followed him out. He guided Caspian away from the stone and to a patch of soft moss. They laid with each other, and for a while, they did nothing other than kiss and cuddle while Caspian’s arousal spiraled out of control.
He wanted this. He couldn’t explain why, or how it had come to be this way, but his soul knew what it wanted.
When at last Bran was hard again, Caspian rolled onto his stomach.
Bran mounted him again, and this time the penetration was deep and satisfying in a way it hadn’t been while in the pool. Bran worked deep into Caspian’s body and claimed him. He pushed his seed deeper until Caspian was sure it would never come out.
In turn, Caspian tightened around him and pushed back into Bran’s thrusts. He’d never wanted to have sex with someone as much as he wanted to with Bran.
Caspian lifted his hips. Bran’s hand instinctively snaked beneath him to pump his cock. With a startled gasp, Caspian worked down into his palm, then back up against Bran’s cock.
“Come,” Bran coaxed. “I want to feel you come, hatchling. I want you to squeeze my cock and milk the cum from me. I want you to want it as badly as I want you.”
As badly as I want you.
Even in this position, Caspian could hardly believe this perfect man of his dreams wanted him so badly. His body responded naturally to the request, and he was left to groan with profound pleasure as Bran’s words swirled through him.
He wanted to come. All he needed was a little more. Just a little more.
Bran worked into him, rhythmically brushing against the best parts of Caspian’s insides. Each time his balls tightened, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Bran stretched and filled him, taking advantage of Caspian’s slick body.
Bran kissed, then nipped, the back of Caspian’s neck. It was the final layer of the erotic. As Bran pushed into him, Caspian came. The clench was sudden and intense, and he cried out as the orgasm raced through him. The tumbling waterfall ate the bulk of the noise, leaving behind nothing but a muted whisper.
Bran gasped and pressed forward, and Caspian felt his seed spurt up inside of him all over again.
For a while they remained in place, panting to reclaim their breath. Retaining control of their coupling, Bran rolled them over. He held Caspian tight.
“You are perfect,” Bran praised. “Flawless and beautiful.”
Caspian’s cheeks burned.
“Are you going to come back every night?” Caspian asked. “Are we going to make love like this every night?”
“No. I cannot.” Bran kissed Caspian’s nape. “I hope it won’t be long before you don’t have to dream of me at all.”
Their bodies parted. Caspian turned to look Bran over, wondering what he meant. Caspian knew he would have remembered if he met someone half as gorgeous as Bran. His strange, iridescent black hair and the depths of his eyes were otherworldly. His strong but slender body was a work of art. The connection between them sparked in the air and stirred Caspian’s heart.
If Bran were a real person, Caspian would know it. There was no way he could overlook a man he felt for as much as he felt for Bran.
“What do you mean by that?” Caspian asked when he found no answer in Bran’s eyes.
“I mean our destinies are bound. As we are fated souls, I shall have you as my own,” Bran declared.
“But I don’t understand.”
“You will in time.” Bran kissed him, stealing away Caspian’s anxious thoughts as though Bran took them into himself. He whispered against Caspian's cheek, “I have marked you. You are mine.”
When it came to Bran, Caspian was helpless. Every touch was magic. Every kiss was a reminder that he’d found what he’d been looking for.
That strange scent close to the smell of rain clung to Bran’s skin. In the aftermath of sex, it clung to Caspian’s skin, too.
Bran kissed him, and Caspian kissed back, and eventually, Caspian found himself on his back with Bran’s thighs between his legs. This time, when they made love, it was slow and sensual. Bran made Caspian feel valued—whole—like he was the most important person in Bran’s world.
And maybe he was.
Bran came inside of him one more time. Caspian came into Bran’s hand. Orgasm left Caspian blurry eyed and spacey. The world began to shift out of focus. Was he falling asleep within his dream?
Caspian turned his head to look in Bran’s direction as the colors around him smeared like paint across a canvas, but Bran was gone. In his place, feathers showered down from above. Black, iridescent, and beautiful.
Raven’s feathers.