Devoted - Merritt's Story 2 - Chapter 15 (nsfw)

New chapter is here!  There will be a slightly longer wait before chapter 16 because now I'm in crunch time for Lychgate book 3.  But if I can manage to squeeze it in earlier, I will!

In other news, monthly rewards are coming over the next couple days, and my shipment of enamel pins arrives from the manufacturer today!  I'll need to inspect them, design and order the backing cards, and pack them, but we're making good time toward that mid-June shipping target I mentioned before!

Anyway, enjoy the new Merritt's Story chapter! ;)

[Table of Contents]

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Book 2, Chapter 15

Merritt heard nothing more about the embargo until a week later when news erupted that the West would cease all use of underage dogs. According to Odell’s subtly snarky article in the South Sphere Tribune, the West had cowered at the thought of going even a few months without access to the premium imported produce their restaurant industry depended on. After a long, tough negotiation with the South, they reached a deal. The West would continue to funnel select citizens into the dog trade as early as their mid-teens, but their training would consist solely of domestic duties like cooking and cleaning until they reached adulthood.

As far as Merritt was concerned, it wouldn’t be a complete victory until the entire dog trade was obliterated. But he’d take it as a win. This was the first time he’d ever seen changes to the dog trade go in the right direction. Most blue-ties responded to the news with a casual “it’s about time” before continuing on their way, but Merritt itched to commemorate the day.

By some stroke of luck, he was only called into work on Saturday for a few minor issues, leaving his entire evening free. Sitting sideways on the shabby sofa that nearly filled the tiny living room of his quarters, he texted Archer to see what she was up to for the evening. He hadn’t spent time with her in ages. They’d had a few brief conversations before and after board meetings when she substituted for Wilson, but nothing like the deep, private discussions they used to have every Sunday during his poison immunizations. He missed those nights, nausea and all.

A few minutes after his text, she replied that she was stuck in the labs working a tight deadline. Disappointed but not surprised, Merritt leaned back and stretched out across the sofa, closing his eyes. It was a dangerous game; one wrong move, and he could accidentally sleep away his entire night off. But today he was too wired to sleep. His mind buzzed with the echoes of Odell’s victorious news article.

On the counter in his kitchenette, two bottles of South Sphere Deering white wine sat collecting dust. He thought back to the knock on the head Belmont had given him with bottle number three, and he marveled at how much their lives had changed since then.

Kimball, who’d given him the bottles as a gift for keeping her secret when she’d escaped from the North, had called a few days ago to chat. She’d asked him how he liked the wine, and he’d confessed that he hadn’t tried it yet. She’d demanded that he open a bottle the next time he had a reason to celebrate.

Merritt had no interest in drinking alone, but he didn’t know if he’d ever have an occasion to share a bottle with someone else. Wine wasn’t his thing, but all of Belmont’s raving about Deering white made him curious.

Damn, he felt like an idiot. Here he was, sitting on two bottles of Belmont’s favorite wine and wasting the day trying to figure out who he could share it with.

A rush of adrenaline lifted him to his feet. He grabbed one of the bottles and stowed it in his rucksack on his way out the door.

At a quarter past five, he slowed on the side street leading into the headquarters parking lot. Was it rude to just show up unannounced? He stopped along the side of the road, retrieved his phone, and pulled up his text thread with Belmont. Are you home?

A brief pause, and Belmont replied, Why?

I have something I want to give you.

Another pause. Working in the VIP garage. Text me when you get here and I’ll buzz you in.

Merritt hesitated. I’m here already.

Haha.

The VIP garage door slowly opened. Merritt shifted into drive and sped toward it. Inside, the blinding ceiling lights glinted off the slick white floor, and he had to squint until his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. He rode around to Belmont’s prime spot by the elevators. Belmont pointed him toward the private guest spot next to his own, and he parked and hopped off his bike.

Belmont stood between two motorcycles, one parked neatly in its circular spot and the other at the center of a self-service station lined with tools and cleaning supplies. Merritt recognized the parked motorcycle as Belmont’s. The other, which Belmont was buffing with a soft towel, made him stop in his tracks. It was a Peregrine 209, the newest model South Sphere off-road racing bike. It was the fastest off-road bike in the underground, and as far as Merritt knew, no one except South Sphere citizens could buy one.

Belmont looked up, eyeing Merritt’s face and chuckling. “Stop ogling my bike, you pervert.”

“That’s a Peregrine 209,” Merritt said, awestruck.

“I know.”

Merritt approached the bike cautiously like he would a skittish animal. “It’s beautiful. It looks even better in person than it does in the photos and videos. It’s completely seamless.”

Belmont gave Merritt a playful shove. “You’re looking at my bike the same way I look at you. It’s creeping me out.”

“This is a Peregrine!” Merritt cried. “I never thought I’d have another chance to see one of these so close.”

“‘Another’?”

“I won an amateur racing competition once when I was a teenager. The prize was a one-day workshop with a South Sphere racer. She taught me how to ride a Peregrine 186.”

“I didn’t know you were into racing bikes.”

“I’ve been obsessed with them ever since I saw my first televised motorcycle race at the orphanage. After that, my friends and I started racing every weekend, through every trail and back street we could find.” He sighed, reminiscing. “I’m surprised none of us died. We did some crazy things. And it’s a miracle our flimsy bikes held up to the abuse we put them through.” He laughed softly. “For the most part.”

Belmont raised an eyebrow, giving Merritt his familiar half-smirk. “I love it when you get excited like this. It’s fucking adorable.” Merritt rolled his eyes, brushing off the embarrassing compliment. “Let me guess. You were a Samsid groupie.”

“A little bit,” Merritt admitted with a guilty grin.

“Ha! I love it.” Belmont clapped his hands together. “I can just picture you in the stands all wide-eyed, staring at Mr. Biceps-of-the-Gods and trying to keep the drool off your chin.”

“He does have nice biceps,” Merritt said with a chuckle, and Belmont shook his head with amusement. “But no one can get these bikes outside the South. How did you get one?”

“I shouldn’t tell you. You’d lose all respect for me.” Belmont gave the bike’s headlight one last wipe, then tossed his towel into a nearby bucket. “It’s just for show, though. I have no idea how to ride it.”

“Really?”

“No one knows how to ride South-exclusive bikes.” He shrugged. “It’s too bad. If I could figure out how to shift this thing out of park, I’d take you for a ride.”

Merritt cracked a devious smile as he brushed past Belmont, snatching the electronic key from his hand on the way. He popped the seat open, tossed his rucksack into the hidden compartment underneath, and dropped the seat back in place. Then he climbed onto the motorcycle and inserted the key into an invisible port near the fork of the handlebars. Belmont’s gaze followed him reluctantly, as if he was trying to pretend he wasn’t intrigued.

Merritt gave the left handlebar a sideways swipe with his thumb and brought the engine to life. With another angled swipe, he shifted into Drive, shooting out across the marble floor. He rode in a tight circle around Belmont before coming to a stop in front of him.

“Who said you could ride my bike?” Belmont asked, the half-smirk still on his face.

Merritt cocked his head. “Hop on.”

“What do you mean, ‘hop on’? It’s my bike. I should be telling you to hop on.”

“You don’t know how to ride it,” Merritt countered.

“You don’t know how to ride it either.”

“I know how to ride it. Once you learn how to ride a South Sphere motorcycle, you never forget.”

With a begrudging scowl, Belmont climbed onto the bike, his long legs flanking Merritt’s. When Belmont wrapped his arms around Merritt’s waist, Merritt felt a rush of warmth in his chest. He’d never shared a motorcycle ride with Belmont, nor had he ever expected to. It felt… perfect.

He kicked off, rocketing toward the garage’s exit ramp. Belmont muttered, “Shit,” and gripped Merritt tight.

“This is your chance to call it quits,” Merritt said as the garage door opened. “We’re going to get a lot faster than this.”

Belmont ignored the warning. “If you so much as nick the paint on my bike—”

“You can’t nick the paint on a South Sphere bike,” Merritt retorted. He picked up speed as he pulled out of the garage onto the street. The garage door closed automatically as if to signal that they were past the point of no return, and Belmont’s arms wrapped tighter around Merritt.

He hadn’t experienced anything like this in years. The Peregrine felt like it was made for him—like it could read his mind. The invisible touch-sensor controls that seemed confusing on the surface were incredibly intuitive. With the rumbling of the bike, the wind in his face, and the warm body pressed against his back, he was in heaven.

He turned without warning and sped into a dim side alley, zigzagging around a maze of stalagmites to show off the bike’s silky-smooth steering. Belmont let out a comical yelp and clutched Merritt tighter. Merritt wondered if Belmont was really scared or if he was just looking for a convenient excuse to hold Merritt as close as he wanted. He suspected the latter.

He jumped a crack in the unpaved road, following up with another jump off a short ledge. Belmont’s fingertips dug into his ribs, and he muttered another expletive. But despite his grumbling, he took the jumps with perfect form. Merritt knew Belmont was good on a bike; he remembered him casually riding sidesaddle on one during their face-off outside Torrence’s flat. But his test jumps proved that Belmont was ready for more.

With a satisfied grin, Merritt took a sharp turn into an unlit tunnel.

“Where are you going?” Belmont asked. The bike was so quiet he barely had to yell.

“I’m trying to find a place where I can dump your body and make off with your bike.”

“Asshole.”

“The tunnel gets narrower up ahead,” Merritt warned. “Watch your knees.”

Belmont brought his knees closer to Merritt, who slid his hand around the touch-sensitive throttle and picked up speed. In a few minutes they zoomed past the city limits. Merritt took another unannounced turn onto a dirt path along the edge of a rocky cliff.

“Shit!” Belmont cried as they approached the entrance to a cave.

“Sucks to be tall,” Merritt taunted. “Better duck.”

Belmont grabbed Merritt tight and hunched over him, letting out a terrified yell. Merritt could feel the presence of the cave’s ceiling only a few inches above their heads. “Where the fuck are you going?” Belmont yelled.

“You’ll see.”

“I didn’t give you permission to take me out to the middle of nowhere. This is kidnapping!”

Merritt bit down on a cackle. “Don’t make me laugh or I’ll get in an accident.”

“Ahhh, fuck you!”

They emerged at the other side of the cave onto a narrow metal beam barely wider than the wheels of the motorcycle itself. They rode at least seventy feet above a rocky canyon, its treacherous depths concealed in darkness. Belmont’s screaming intensified, and he tightened his grip so hard Merritt could barely breathe. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! You fucking shitbag, you’re gonna kill us both!”

Merritt chuckled to himself. It sounded like Belmont the drama addict was having a grand time yelling to his heart’s content.

The beam only extended halfway through the canyon, ending in a broken stump. Merritt took the bike through another jump, and they descended to an equally narrow beam thirty feet below. Belmont continued to scream.

They entered another tunnel and sped toward a blinding light up ahead. “Only one more jump,” Merritt called.

Belmont clutched Merritt tight. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

Merritt ducked down. “Brace yourself.”

They emerged from the tunnel, and Belmont yelled again when he realized that the tunnel led directly out of a cliff wall with another steep drop. Merritt took his final jump, aiming for a higher hole in the opposite cliff wall. Belmont’s scream blasted his ears.

They barely cleared the landing, and Merritt skipped down a series of jagged rock steps leading out onto a mossy patch of land.

He pulled to a stop, gazing ahead at a sight he hadn’t seen in years. They stood within a vast clearing surrounded by tall rocky cliffs. Unlike any other place he’d seen in the incorporated underground, grass and mossy dirt coated the ground. In the distance, scraggly trees with sparse green foliage capped the highest cliffs.

Beams of natural sunlight streaked down from above, so bright and vibrant compared to the tunnel entrance that Merritt had to shield his eyes. The cave’s ceiling was too high to see past the floating mist, but the radiating sunlight illuminated the mist particles and scattered fascinating shadows across the ground.

Up ahead, a clear blue pond shimmered with golden ripples, the flare of reflected sunlight blinking on and off with the movement of each wave. Streams and waterfalls laced through the surrounding cliffs, feeding into the lake and sending delicate bubbles across the water’s surface.

The air was clean and crisp. Merritt inhaled deeply, letting it fill him with life.

Belmont remained curled over him, clutching him with his face buried. After finally realizing they’d come to a stop, he raised his head. His crushing grip around Merritt’s ribs loosened for only a moment before drawing him in even closer. “Holy shit.”

Merritt leaned his head back, catching Belmont’s gaze out of the corner of his eye. “Worth the ride?” he asked.

Belmont took in his surroundings, his eyes wide with wonder. “What is this place?”

“Just something I discovered a few years back. Didn’t I mention my friends and I used to take some crazy motorcycle rides? We totaled three bikes coming here. North Sphere bikes just aren’t resilient enough to take those jumps.” He sighed. “I was the only one of us who could make the final jump every time. Luckily you can miss the last jump without killing yourself, but getting back home from the bottom of the pit is a pain.”

Belmont shielded his eyes and gazed up toward the ceiling. “Is that sunlight?”

“I think so. It’s a quarter to six. Based on what I know about above-ground seasons, we should get a couple more hours of sunlight.”

Belmont sucked in a breath. “I’ve never breathed air like this. It feels so clean and light. I never realized how stuffy underground air was before.”

“If you haven’t already cracked my ribs, you’re going to any second.”

Belmont reluctantly loosened his grip, but he didn’t get off the bike. “When’s the last time you came up here?”

“Back when I was a private, maybe three years ago. I knew my bike couldn’t handle another round of those jumps.”

They climbed off the bike, and Merritt retrieved his rucksack from under the seat. Then he led the way deeper into the clearing. With Belmont a couple steps behind him, he headed down a row of shallow rocky steps toward the pond. A few steps down, he paused. “You know what’s better than just walking into the water?” He pointed to the far side of the pond. “Hiking up those cliffs and diving from the highest point.”

“Oh, fuck off. Fuck all the way off into the depths of hell. I’m not doing that.”

Merritt laughed. “Had enough jumping for the day?”

“Enough for the rest of my life.”

“Got it.” Merritt sat on the edge of a long, oversized rock embedded in the mossy ground a few feet from the edge of the pond. From his makeshift bench, he pointed toward the water. “This is the cleanest, best tasting water I’ve found in any of the North Sphere. The natural filtration system in here must be something special. I’ve even taken samples back with me for testing, and you won’t find water like it anywhere else.” He rose to his feet and began unbuckling his packs and holsters.

“You’re not going in, are you?” Belmont asked.

Merritt said nothing.

“Are you crazy? You don’t know what’s in there. There could be sharks.”

“I don’t think there’s sharks,” Merritt replied, holding back a laugh.

“Well… you’re gonna… get wet.”

With a teasing squint, Merritt set his packs and holsters aside and then unbuttoned his suit jacket. He folded it neatly, set it beside his packs, and slowly unbuttoned his vest.

“So you’re just going to take off everything?” Belmont asked, sitting on the rock bench and settling in as if watching a show at a West Sphere club.

Merritt stripped down to his tank, removed his shoes, and rolled his pants up to his calves.

“Boo,” Belmont called through cupped hands. “That’s not what I paid for. Take it all off!”

Merritt stripped off his tank, wadded it up, and threw it playfully into Belmont’s face. After Belmont tossed the tank aside with an exaggerated huff, Merritt fingered his tie and said, “I’m taking this off too.”

Belmont let out a low whistle.

Out of some strange sense of North Sphere modesty, Merritt turned toward the water before undoing his tie. He folded it carefully and set it in the grass. Then he took a seat on a low rock ledge, letting his legs dangle in the water.

He glanced over his shoulder, shooting Belmont an inviting grin. Belmont stared blankly at him at first; his gaze lingered on Merritt’s bare skin. Clearly he liked what he saw. Merritt couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so powerful wearing so little. 

At last unable to resist the temptation, Belmont stood and unbuttoned his jacket. After setting aside his jacket, vest, weapons, shoes, and socks, he rolled up his slacks and sat beside Merritt. Hesitantly, he lowered his feet into the water.

Merritt looked up at him, eagerly awaiting his thoughts.

“I can’t believe this place,” Belmont said with wonder. “This water is as clear as a swimming pool. And it’s not as cold as I thought it would be.”

Merritt was about to respond when a thought occurred to him. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He leaned back, grabbing his rucksack and unearthing the bottle of South Sphere Deering white. He held it up for Belmont to see.

“You have more?” Belmont asked. “What the fuck.”

Merritt stabbed the cork with a knife from his pack, deftly levering it out of the bottle. Then he handed the bottle to Belmont.

“You can’t drink Deering white straight out of the bottle,” Belmont said with a haughty scoff. “It’s sacrilege!”

Merritt raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“Oh, fuck it.” Belmont took a swig. “This is wrong. This is so wrong.”

“How is it?”

“Shut up.” Belmont took another long swig.

“What? I’ve never had it before.”

Belmont sipped again.

Merritt tried to grab the bottle, but Belmont shook his head, holding it out of reach. “Nuh-uh. I can drink it out of the bottle because I’ve had it before. The first time you have Deering white, you have to drink it out of a glass.”

Merritt grabbed his rucksack, fishing around until he found a small tempered glass cup. Made with the North’s proprietary technology, the glass was millimeters thin but nearly impossible to break by accident. “Will this do?”

“Close enough, I guess.” Belmont poured a few ounces into the cup and handed it over.

Merritt took a sip of the smoothest, lightest, most complex wine he’d ever tasted. “Wow.”

Belmont grinned. “I know, right?”

Merritt took another deep sip. For the next few minutes, they drank in silence. Then Belmont pointed at a blinking light in the distance. “Is that one of those things?”

“One of those things,” Merritt repeated with a giggle.

“You know what I mean,” Belmont grumbled, nudging him in the side. “Those bugs on the surface with the light-up asses.”

“Fireflies,” Merritt supplied, laughing again at Belmont’s description. He inched closer to Belmont. “You’ll see more of them when it gets darker.”

Belmont pointed toward a patch of tiny, violet-rimmed white flowers at the water’s edge. “Do you know what those are?”

“No idea. But they’re nice.”

Belmont took another sip of wine from the bottle. When Merritt’s cup started to get low, he topped it off. They passed a few minutes pointing out various plants and rocks to each other, inching closer together with each exchange. Belmont continued to top off Merritt’s cup in between sips straight from the bottle. When Merritt’s cheeks reddened and he started to get giggly, Belmont pursed his lips. “How the hell are we going to get back home with you in this condition?”

Merritt wasn’t worried. He wasn’t drunk; he was just giddy with happiness. Besides, the return trip wasn’t nearly as treacherous as the trip into the cave. But Merritt didn’t feel like explaining. Instead he flopped back onto the ground, grinning. “I guess we’re stuck here until I sober up.”

“Whatever you say,” Belmont replied, sounding less than devastated. He drank more of the wine and then flopped back beside Merritt. He gazed up at the sky. “I think I just saw a bird.”

“You probably did.” He pointed at the trees atop the cliff. “I saw a bird’s nest in there once. Not the usual pigeons—some species I’d never seen before.”

They continued to stare up at the misty canopy, watching the rays of sunlight shift and skip. After a few minutes, Merritt suddenly rose to his feet. He stripped off his pants. Wearing only his pale blue boxer-briefs, he jumped off the edge of the rock ledge and into the pond, disappearing under the surface before popping his head back up. He flicked his hair back and sucked in a breath.

Belmont sat up, watching with interest as Merritt treaded water. “How deep is it?”

“Over here, my feet graze the ground. If you go out farther, it gets much deeper. Too deep to reach the bottom without equipment.”

Belmont undid his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. Merritt watched him undress, eyeing his bare chest. He’d never had a chance to truly appreciate Belmont’s body before. The only time he’d seen him with his shirt open was during the West Sphere invasion. Whatever healing product he’d used, he was left without a scar.

Merritt admired the smooth, graceful curves of his chest as he continued to shed his clothing. His gaze followed the thin strip of hair leading from Belmont’s abdomen down past the waistband of his flashy purple briefs. His eyes lingered longer than he’d intended.

Belmont set aside his clothes and glasses and slid into the water beside Merritt, bobbing up and down with the movement of the water. “I feel plants between my toes. This is so weird.”

“You’ve never gone swimming in a pond before?” Merritt asked. “My friends and I used to sneak out of the orphanage and swim in the fishing spot outside Norwood all the time.”

“I swim in pools,” Belmont replied. “Heated, sanitized pools. And I visit the occasional West Sphere bath house, but I don’t do a whole lot of swimming there.”

Merritt pointed behind him. “Let’s go out deeper.”

They swam toward the center of the pond until they no longer felt the ground beneath them. Merritt turned to Belmont, watching the filtered sunlight shimmer off his wet chest.

“I’ll tell ya,” Belmont said, glancing up at the misty sky, “this is not how I expected to spend my day off.”

“What would you have done if I hadn’t dragged you out here?” Merritt asked.

Belmont shrugged. “I probably would have just gone out to Yackley’s. Or maybe a West Sphere club. But I’m getting kind of sick of that. Just the same routine over and over.”

“Ugh, West Sphere clubs,” Merritt muttered.

“Ugh, judgy perpetual duty soldiers,” Belmont retorted.

Merritt rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I just don’t understand the appeal of West Sphere clubs. I probably never will.”

“That’s because you’re too fixated on the dogs. Some people go to West Sphere clubs for the dogs, but I mostly go for the dancing.”

“But you dance with dogs,” Merritt replied, remembering the time he’d watched Belmont grind on a dog at the Brighton Rose after the poison trap project.

“I dance with anyone who can keep up with me. It just so happens most dogs are trained dancers and most blue-ties can’t dance for shit.”

Merritt shrugged. “Well, I can’t dance either, so West Sphere clubs don’t do much for me.”

“You really can’t dance?” Belmont asked, cocking his head. “You’re a trained martial artist. If you can grapple, you can dance.”

“You just made that up.”

Belmont shot him a teasing grin. “Well, maybe I can teach you sometime.”

“Heh. Maybe.” Merritt kicked off into a backstroke, swimming in a wide, leisurely circle as he stared up at the sky. After a minute of swimming, he circled back to Belmont, noticing that his hair was still bone dry. He chuckled to himself before calling, “Hey.”

“What?” Belmont asked warily, noticing the mischievous glint in Merritt’s eyes.

“I tasted your favorite wine,” Merritt replied. “Now you have to taste my favorite water.” He leaped forward and grabbed Belmont’s head, dunking it under the surface.

Belmont splashed back up, coughing and sputtering amid Merritt’s laughter. “You fucker!” he cried. “I grant you touch permission, and that’s how you—”

Merritt jumped him again, pulling him back under. After a few seconds of underwater thrashing, Belmont fought him off, splashing him in the face as soon as they emerged to the surface. “Here!” he yelled, sending out a second splash. “Have some of your favorite water!”

Merritt shielded his face and returned the splash. Then he ducked under, swimming behind Belmont and jumping him again. Belmont turned and caught him, lifting him up as far as he could before tossing him down into the water. He got a good throw, earning a startled gasp from Merritt. They splashed and wrestled, their yelled threats breaking off into unguarded laughter. Merritt couldn’t remember laughing so freely since he was a kid.

Their roughhousing carried them toward the cliffs, their laughter merging with the rush of the waterfalls. They found some rocky footholds, and Merritt used his leverage to try to dunk Belmont again, but he was too sturdy. Belmont tried to catch Merritt, but he was too slippery. Belmont tried again. Merritt’s chest slipped against his. Wet hair brushed against wet skin, Belmont caught hold of Merritt, Merritt grabbed him back. Lips brushed against lips—

Suddenly they were locked together—arms interwoven and gripping tight, lips pressed hard against each other, their kiss as fervent and wild as their grappling had been moments ago. Merritt couldn’t kiss Belmont enough. He squeezed him, opening his mouth to him, seeking out more of Belmont with his tongue. Belmont pressed back hard enough to arch Merritt’s neck. Lips grinded against teeth, turning to a rough bite then back to a desperate kiss. Merritt clutched Belmont’s wet hair, then his muscled back, then the back of his neck. His palms slipped and squeaked against Belmont’s skin.

This was what Belmont felt like. This was how Belmont tasted. It was everything he wanted, but he wanted more. He could barely breathe through his exhilaration.

Belmont pulled his face away, gazing at Merritt with unbridled intensity. He wiped a dribble of water off Merritt’s cheek, then stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. His breaths came out as quick and shallow as Merritt’s.

Merritt dove in for another kiss. He needed to be in Belmont’s arms again, to feel his lips again. Belmont returned the kiss and held him as if he never wanted to let go.

At last their lips parted. Belmont rested his forehead against Merritt’s, taking in a deep, desperate gasp for air. “Fuck,” he whispered. After a long pause, he shook his head as if words had failed him and pulled Merritt closer.

Under the water’s surface, their bodies glided against each other. The bulge of Belmont’s soaked briefs pushed into Merritt’s, setting off a spark of heat between his legs and rocketing his heartbeat to double speed. He reached down, feeling Belmont through the thin layer of fabric. He looked longingly into Belmont’s eyes.

Belmont gestured with his head toward the shore. They paddled out side by side. Once the waters were shallow enough to walk, Belmont ducked low and grabbed Merritt around the hips, hoisting him into the air. He slung Merritt over his shoulder and carried him back onto the shore.

“Hey!” Merritt cried, letting out a startled laugh. For a moment he tried to twist free, but Belmont’s grip didn’t waver. As they passed the rocky ledge and their abandoned clothes, Belmont grabbed the wine bottle by the neck and continued onward. Belmont set Merritt down in the grassy clearing and rolled on top of him, pinning his wrists at either side of his head and gazing deep into his eyes. His hard length pushed firmly against Merritt’s, feeding the tantalizing ache that left Merritt panting for breath. Merritt rocked his hips, rubbing against Belmont, begging for more.

Belmont wrapped a hand around the back of Merritt’s neck. He ran his thumb over Merritt’s jaw and then his lower lip. His lips met Merritt’s as his hips continued to rock and thrust.

Merritt moaned into Belmont’s mouth. Their kiss grew urgent and hungry. Merritt locked a leg around the back of Belmont’s, inviting Belmont to grind harder against him. Belmont’s hips worked magic, rubbing and gyrating in all the right directions. Merritt let out another desperate groan, suddenly shrinking back. Belmont was too good; and if Merritt wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t last.

Belmont read Merritt’s desires as if they’d been lovers for years. He rose to his knees and retrieved the wine bottle. With a sultry half-smile, he drizzled the last of the wine slowly onto Merritt’s chest, spilling a line down past his navel. Then he leaned in, lapping it up as it rolled across Merritt’s wet skin.

Merritt gasped at the feeling of Belmont’s tongue on his chest. Belmont licked and nibbled and sucked, traveling slowly downward. The tickling tongue at his navel made him squirm and wriggle. Belmont stopped, raising his head just long enough to whisper, “You taste better than the wine.” Then he ducked down again, continuing to the waist of Merritt’s soaked boxer-briefs before suddenly withdrawing. He straddled Merritt’s waist, leaning down and kissing him again.

Merritt tasted the wine on Belmont’s lips, then pushed deeper to taste more of Belmont. He needed Belmont. He needed his lips and his hands, his warmth and his scent. He could see the passion and pleasure reflected in Belmont’s eyes, and it set him on fire.

Belmont climbed off Merritt. He stared hungrily at Merritt’s soaked and clingy boxer-briefs before peeling them off and casting them aside. Then he took Merritt eagerly into his mouth.

Merritt gasped out loud. Belmont’s lips tightened around him, his hot tongue stroking and cupping. Merritt writhed, trying to squirm free. It was too intense, too fast. If Belmont kept it up, he’d come too soon. Belmont read his cues again, withdrawing until Merritt’s taut muscles began to relax before diving in again. He coaxed Merritt back to the edge, and Merritt went rigid again, his back arched off the ground and his moans loud enough to echo through the clearing. He gripped Belmont’s hair tight between his fingers. Belmont raised his radiant green eyes, and the sight of them made Merritt’s breath catch. He’d never expected to see them at that angle, and they were so stunning he almost lost control of his brimming desire.

Belmont backed off again, stopping Merritt just before he crossed the edge. Merritt moaned in agony. “I hate you,” he whispered with a choked laugh.

Belmont flashed a devilish grin before lowering his head again. He resumed licking and sucking, bringing Merritt back to the cusp in no time.

Again, he stopped short before Merritt could reach his peak. Merritt groaned, covering his face with his hands. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” Belmont murmured, exactly as Merritt had said during their motorcycle ride. He dove in again, this time taking Merritt into his throat. Merritt’s hips bucked in reflex, but Belmont didn’t shy away. He descended until his lips were pressed into fine blond hair. Merritt squeezed his eyes shut, his hips still flexing against Belmont’s face. Belmont caught his hips, pinning them in place and giving his length a teasing lick from base to tip.

“Belmont,” Merritt gasped. He could barely control his body’s tremors.

Belmont paused at the sound of his whispered name.

“Please,” Merritt groaned. His face was strained, brows furrowed and eyes squinting. He rocked his hips against Belmont’s grip, begging for release. “Please.”

Belmont lowered his head, lips and tongue dragging against wet skin and sending out tingling sparks of electricity. At last he loosened his grip, and Merritt bucked hard into his mouth. He clenched his fists so hard he tore up handfuls of grass. The pulsing, tingling pressure built between his legs. “I-I’m gonna—” He gave Belmont’s head a warning push, but Belmont shoved his hand away, wrapping his arms tight around Merritt’s hips. He pulled him close and took him in deep.

Merritt flinched, pleasure overtaking him. He was overcharged, unable to contain the pressure Belmont had built up within him. Each wave of climax pulsed so hard it hurt—but in the best way. Belmont’s lips and tongue didn’t miss a beat, pulling every last drop of pleasure out of him. He didn’t withdraw until Merritt was entirely spent, shaking and gasping as he lay sprawled on the ground.

At last, Belmont raised his head and sat back on his feet. Merritt struggled to catch his breath, his body aching and oversensitive from the too-potent release.

“Worth the ride?” Belmont teased, and Merritt mustered up the strength to flip him the bird. Belmont responded with a quick, grinning kiss on the lips.

Merritt felt warm and weak and indulgently satisfied. The only thing outweighing his desire to settle into the fatigue was his desire to take Belmont to the same place Belmont had taken him.

Belmont rose to his feet and turned away. Merritt wanted to call out to him, to ask if he was really about to walk away unsatisfied, but his mind was too muddled in the wake of his release to get the words out. Instead he clumsily caught Belmont’s ankle. When Belmont gave him a puzzled glance, Merritt simply raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Belmont asked, smirking. “That was just for you. Bet no one’s ever done that for you in the Yackley’s stairwell, right?” He turned away again.

Merritt crawled forward, determined to catch him before he could head back for his clothes. He stopped in front of Belmont, still on his knees. Gazing imploringly up at Belmont, he bit his lip suggestively.

“Really?” Belmont asked with a sly smile.

Merritt grabbed the waistband of Belmont’s briefs and pulled them down, taking a steadying breath. Belmont’s size was startling. Intimidating. The sight of it made his heart pound and his blood race. He glanced up, excited to see Belmont watching him. He leaned in and licked tentatively, letting his tongue trace over smooth, soft skin. He licked again, more firmly this time. Another few licks, and then he wrapped his lips around Belmont.

He found Belmont’s hands with his. For a moment, they squeezed each other’s hands, then Merritt slid Belmont’s hands onto his head. Belmont took the hint, gripping Merritt’s hair and guiding his head. He flexed his hips, gently stroking in and out of Merritt’s mouth.

Merritt wanted more. Again, he looked up, meeting Belmont’s gaze. Belmont responded by pushing in deeper. Merritt nudged him, and Belmont raised an eyebrow. He pushed forward, descending into Merritt’s throat.

Merritt gagged. He fell back, gasping.

“Don’t ask for what you can’t take,” Belmont teased.

Merritt looked up at him, narrowing his eyes in challenge. He gave Belmont that same nudge again. Belmont gave him an incredulous look, but he gripped Merritt’s head hard and pushed forward again. The force of the thrust choked out Merritt’s breath for a moment, but this time he didn’t withdraw. It was just what he wanted.

He let Belmont into his throat, timing his breaths and coaxing Belmont to hold his head harder. He could barely take Belmont’s length, but at last he was rewarded with what he’d been waiting for: Belmont’s gasp of pleasure.

He tightened his lips and pulled back, then returned to work with his tongue. Belmont’s fingers tightened in his hair, and a pang of excitement coursed through him. He closed his eyes, listening to Belmont’s quickening breaths.

Belmont moaned through gritted teeth, and the sound of his passion heated Merritt past the boiling point. Merritt sucked deeper, teasing with his hands and his tongue. He felt Belmont’s muscles tighten, and he looked up as he continued to suck. He wanted to see Belmont’s face.

Belmont’s eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tight together. He looked like he was trying desperately to keep his body under control, but Merritt hungered for the sight of him losing it.

He stroked relentlessly with his tongue, dragging his lips tighter. Belmont’s breaths quickened. His muscles strained. Suddenly he pulled Merritt’s hair, choking out a helpless gasp as he tipped over the edge. Then his face softened, brows raising and relaxing, eyelashes quivering. Merritt watched, transfixed by the sight of his face shifting from hard and feral to beautifully vulnerable. Belmont had stripped off his clothing long ago—but only then was he finally exposed. He surrendered his mask to Merritt, letting his most honest face show as his body shuddered with release.

His fingers lingered in Merritt’s hair while his electrified body slowly softened. He stroked Merritt’s head gently, affectionately. Then he guided Merritt up to his feet and nuzzled his neck. They pressed their hands into each other’s, fingers intertwined. Belmont gave his neck a firm bite, just hard enough to make Merritt jump. He didn’t loosen his teeth right away. Merritt sank into the sensation. Once again, they were locked together.

When Belmont finally released the bite, he raised his head and looked deep into Merritt’s eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

Merritt pulled him into another embrace. He didn’t need words right now. He just wanted to hold Belmont. Without pulling away, Merritt gestured with his head toward the entrance. “Did you want to go back?”

“I’m not in any hurry,” Belmont murmured into his neck. “Are you?”

Merritt shook his head.

Belmont took a step away, grabbing Merritt’s hands again. “Back in the water?”

Merritt nodded.

Hand in hand, they headed back down the rocky steps and let the lapping waves greet them.

*   *   *

“Have you ever thought about what’s up there?”

They lay side by side in the grass, still naked, gazing up at the ceiling of the cave as the last rays of sunlight turned from warm orange to violet to blue-black.

“It has to be the surface,” Merritt replied. “Right?”

“What do you think it’d look like if we just popped our heads up there?”

“We could never do that. It’s too high up.”

“Just for a second, don’t think about what we can’t do.” Belmont folded his arms behind his head. “Let’s just pretend we can.” He stared up at the sky as if deliberately avoiding Merritt’s gaze. “If you could get up there, if you could get out of here… would you?”

“Hmm.” Merritt closed his eyes, considering Belmont’s words. “That’s a tough question.”

“Sometimes I think about what it would be like to set one foot onto the surface, like they do with South Sphere escapees. If I put my foot up there, I’d be a free man. I wouldn’t owe my life to anyone. I could do anything I wanted. I wouldn’t ever have to come back down.” At last he turned his head, gazing at Merritt with an odd sort of longing in his eyes. “You don’t ever think about that?”

Merritt shrugged. “I don’t even know what I would do with that kind of freedom.” He hesitated, about to say more, but then he stopped.

“What?” Belmont pressed.

“I don’t know.” Merritt crossed his arms loosely over his chest, fighting back a chill as the night air grew colder. “It’s weird to hear you talk like that. You’re a right hand. You’re at the top of the ladder in a sphere that’s practically made for you. Why would you want to leave when things are going so well for you?”

Belmont laughed off the question, but his chuckle didn’t sound particularly humorous. “Yeah, I guess I don’t need to leave.” He raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward their surroundings. “We could just stay in here forever instead.”

With a smile, Merritt said, “I’ll call you the Unconquered, and you can call me the Golden One.”

Belmont turned to him with a suspicious squint. “Don’t tell me you actually do like Ayn Rand.”

“Of course not,” Merritt laughed. “But I have read her.” He gazed back up at the sky. “It’s been months since I’ve had time to read anything new from the surface. I want to study above-ground religion, but there are barely any books about it in the pirated ebook library.”

Belmont grinned up into the darkness. “Maybe I’ll build you a big-ass library. The South smuggles in books from the surface all the time. I’ll grab a bunch of them, and then we can start an above-ground book club.”

Merritt chuckled softly. “I know you’re joking, but I’d do it in a second.”

*   *   *

By the time they could convince themselves to get dressed and return to the Peregrine, it had grown so dark they had to rely on Merritt’s headlamp to lead the way. As they walked, Belmont said, “Damn. I don’t want to go back to the real world. Ever.”

“I know that feeling.”

Belmont’s shoes crunched on grass. “You know a lot about bikes. What’s the best kind to make this sort of trip regularly?”

Merritt pondered. “None of the bikes available to the North Sphere are great for it. They’ll all wear out in a couple of trips.”

“Aside from North Sphere bikes.”

“I’d say the South Sphere Mantis. The Peregrine is second best, but the Mantis is a pure off-road bike that jumps and handles rough terrain while the Peregrine is still technically a racing bike.”

“I’ll get you a Mantis, then.”

Merritt let out a stunned laugh. “And what South Sphere woman will you have to kill to pull that off?”

“Come on, give me a little credit here. I have more ways of getting what I want than just killing everyone.” Belmont glanced at Merritt. “I can get one for you. I just have to pull a few strings.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Merritt protested. The thought of someone giving him something so valuable was too outlandish to even comprehend.

“Yes it is. I want to come back out here, but I don’t want you to wear out my Peregrine.”

Merritt’s eyes widened with hope. “You’d come back?”

“Hell, yeah. This is the best day I’ve had in ages. Maybe ever.”

Merritt smiled, but then his smile faded. “I’ve always dreamed of having that bike. But I just can’t accept something so big. South Sphere bikes are expensive.”

“It’s a gift. What does it matter how much it costs? I’ll give it to you, and you can forget about where it came from. Besides, you’re General of the North Sphere Army. You shouldn’t be riding the same bike you had when you were a private.”

Merritt wasn’t sure how to respond. “I… I don’t know.”

“I do. I’m getting it for you.” Belmont stopped, suddenly turning toward Merritt. He grabbed Merritt’s shoulders hard, his gaze surprisingly intense. Merritt stared back at him, startled. “But I mean it—forget where you got it from. Don’t tell anyone I gave it to you. Don’t tell anyone about what we did here.”

Merritt’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on? Is this a problem? I thought you said we didn’t have to worry about fraternization rules.”

“This isn’t about the rules. This is about people finding out about us.”

Us. Warmth blossomed in Merritt’s chest. This wasn’t just a one-time thing to Belmont. This was the start of “us.” Merritt wanted to revel in the joy of hearing that word, but Belmont’s apprehension made him hesitate. “You never worried before about people seeing us doing things together.”

“It was different before. No one would look at me twice if they saw me hooking up with some random hot ace. But you’re not some random ace anymore—and this isn’t just a hookup.” He paused, looking deep into Merritt’s eyes. “Right?”

Merritt nodded—no doubts, no hesitation. “Right.”

Belmont’s lips tightened into a thin line. He looked torn between satisfaction and worry. “But that makes things… more dangerous.”

Merritt swallowed.

Belmont stared at Merritt for a long moment before finally releasing him and turning back to the motorcycle. 

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