Arianne had the patience of a Saint, but then Wesley was one of the few who knew the true identity of her Mate, so he understood how she’d coped all those years. It was a secret few would ever know.
Whenever he and Guido came home to them though, they’d bring boxes of gifts from Italy, and lavish them with all kinds of treats.
Arianne did love her notebooks and journals.
As far as Wesley was concerned, they deserved the very best for keeping his Mate in the world, when to every rational intent he ought to have been long gone. In fact, his gratitude was often hard to fully express in terms that could be readily accepted, but Arianne knew, and her patience with the pair of them never failed, even when they’d still been working their respective ways through the early stage of their Mating Bond, learning about each other’s particular needs and desires, and how to cope with their histories together.
It hadn’t exactly been simple, but then he didn’t imagine it was easy for anyone, no matter the circumstances of their meeting, or the baggage they brought with them. The centuries since then, had permitted him a finely honed sense for when his Mate’s emotional state was reaching collapse, and he would, if at all possible, ship the two of them safely to the isolation of the Scottish Highlands where silence, open space, and crisp fresh air were guaranteed to cleanse almost every Soul of it’s ills.
Sometimes however, there was nothing better than to be surrounded on all sides by the most comforting of things, in the surety of absolute safety. And this had become one such moment as Guido’s increasing agitation and sleepless frustration roiled through their Bond like an approaching hurricane.
Wesley had, years ago, come to accept that he could do nothing to prevent it, but he could certainly curtail it, and one of the most satisfying ways to do so, was the pillow fort.
His Sire had first suggested it back in a time when it didn’t actually have such a cute sounding name. But no matter the modern connotations, it worked brilliantly at defusing the dreadful mixture of socially enhanced pressure, anger, and abhorrent self-loathing that Guido could only contain for so long.
Arianne watched him then from the living room doorway, as the space they’d made in the middle of the floor was steadily transformed into a veritable pillow fort work of art, that she rather liked to think of as more like a ‘pillow cavern’.
It took just about every cushion in the house, several sheets, and the contents of her blanket chest to construct.
Wesley then added a string of softly colored LED lights that gave the whole thing a warm glow on the inside, and he finished it off with a tray of his Mate’s favorite snacks and some of their favorite oils for various and sundry purposes.
“Perfect?” she asked.
“Yep!” He beamed proudly.
“You’re a Master Fort Builder,” she assured him. “And just in time too.” She could hear her own Mate back from having dragged Guido out on a long, and hopefully exhausting walk. “Go upstairs and get changed. They’ll be in shortly.”
Wesley kissed her on the cheek as he dashed past her, and she closed the living room door firmly, so as not to spoil the surprize.
Whatever it took to keep her boys contented, she was totally good with. She just hoped her occasionally dense husband caught on to what was happening, before giving the game away.
Thankfully, however, the noble Roman she’d managed to corral in the kitchen, didn’t realize anything was amiss until he plonked himself down on one of the barstools and grunted in pain as his backside met wood with nothing in between to soften the blow.
By that time, Guido was safely ensconced in the ‘Pillow Fort of Epicness’, being slowly stripped naked by his linen shirt and leather pants clad Mate, who was lingering over every inch of him, and drawing him steadily into a haze of sensual comfort that swept away all the fears and torments of the past before they could became far too real again.
Their Bond was positively aflame, as kisses deepened and skin was laid bare to the finest of touches.
Wesley knew what Guido needed was to be reminded that his body was capable of so much more than pain, and with all the time in the world at their disposal, nothing could pressure them to hasten or doubt.
No one could reach them.
Touch them.
Stop them.
They were as one in that place, always together, always united.
There was some teasing and a little laughter to break tensions, but there was no physical restraint, no hurt, no torture.
Wesley had learned well from Master David how to build desire using every single inch of Guido’s body to explore along the way, with hands, lips, and tongue, until he had his Mate whimpering, purring and climaxing without effort or stress.
It was fun to challenge himself so, given that his own sexual predilections leaned firmly toward more painful lusts and violent fucking, and he rather enjoyed the release from being taken hard and spanked into submission.
Guido too had learned many lessons in helping him achieve such a desire. But that was for another day entirely.
Wesley had to concentrate on his Mate’s needs above all else at that point, without getting carried away in the wrong direction. Though he had to admit, straddling Guido’s waist as his ass was cupped by those big, solid hands of his and squeezed through his leather pants, that he was craving any and all expression of their mutual need for each other, whether soft and slow, or rough and hard.
“I want to be inside you,” Guido murmured, when his caresses had the desired effect on Wesley’s increasingly rampant cock.
He loved the sensation of those deliciously soft pants against his own bare flesh, and it had already gotten him hard just being naked under Wesley’s oh, so very innocent gaze. For there had never been a time when his Mate had failed to look upon him with a very special sense of reverent awe.
Not that Guido felt his deserved it.
Far from it.
Yet Wesley insisted that he would rather worship on his knees before his Mate, than do so at any other man’s bidding, regardless of faith.
And so Wesley took his time wriggling out of his clothes, teasing and grinding over his Mate’s erection, until they lay, skin to skin, panting slightly.
“I’m already prepped for you,” he whispered, licking a path down Guido’s neck.
They had always used rich scented oils as part of the sensuous experience, but there were times when he surprized his Mate with pressed olive oil, or grapeseed that had virtually no smell. And it pleased him greatly when Guido chuckled dirtily.
Rising up, he positioned his Mate’s swollen cock head at his willing hole, and lingered there, watching Guido’s expression, a soft smile on his face.
“I love you,” he murmured, bracing his hands on Guido’s abdomen as he sank back down with a slow, steady self-control that had taken him some considerable practice to master without shaking or trembling.
It was infinitely pleasurable, and so well worth the play of emotions that crossed their Bond in the process.
Guido gripped his Mate’s buttocks possessively when he was fully inside the tight warmth of Wesley’s body. “I love you,” he said softly in reply. “So much. So very much…”
And the wave of unspoken gratitude that flooded through them both, was enough to bring tears fast behind it.
“I know,” Wesley whispered, bending to kiss his lover’s fluttering eyes. “Let me take care of you.”
And he always would.
He had sworn it before Father Kiernan in a tiny chapel in Rome when they’d first been struggling to reconcile faith with need, and past with future.
He’d never broken that vow.
Not once.
And he swore it again as he tightened himself on the rigid flesh buried inside his body.
It would be ever so.
Just the two of them.
Safely together.
Interesting