Ever-ready medieval crusader Sir Dami loves his liege, the more
reserved Lord Adam, with all his heart and soul. When Lord Adam dies,
a rash promise binds Sir Dami to protect Lord Adam's widow, Lady
Jordan. Sir Dami is also cursed with an unnaturally long life, thanks
to a magical gift from Lord Adam. Can a man who is all heart keep a
promise that separates him forever from the one he loves? When all
else is gone, will Sir Dami's honor sustain him for all eternity?
Dami pressed into that familiar heat and strength, stepped
back to loosen the padded vest he still wore--he’d removed the weighty
armor that went over it hours ago. Busy as he’d been, the vest had
seemed a trifle, hardly worth bothering about, even in the sticky
midday heat. Now he tore at the bindings that held it in place.
Adam helped, but his fingers slipped against the fabric, a sign of his
weariness. It was good that they had time to rest before the
afternoon battle tomorrow. Adam wasn’t bouncing back from these
ordeals as fast as he once did.
At last, Dami embraced Adam with nothing but their thin tunics between
them. Adam buried his fingers in Dami’s hair, an old, beloved gesture.
Dami gripped him harder, as if he wished to absorb the other man into
his flesh. Adam’s shaft swelled between them, wide and long, bending
just a trifle to the left as it always did.
Through the tunic, Dami cupped his liege’s length with a hand long
accustomed to lance throwing and practice with sword and axe. Adam
thrashed against him, head thrown back, and Dami saw how tightly
leashed Adam had been all evening, waiting for this.
Cruelly, he stopped, keeping Adam on edge, crying out for release.
Adam whimpered a blind protest.
“Shh.” Dami kissed his face and eyelids, then tore the tunic off him,
admiring the scarred, strong body revealed in the light of the fire
they’d lit for warmth.
Still erect and unfulfilled, Adam trembled under his gaze but met his
eyes, brave in love as in war.