Earthly Desires Read online

  “Stop! Whyever are you doing that?” Efrosin asked, a giddy burst of fear shaking him, and he started to laugh hysterically. “I shall float away if you break the rope.”

  Panicked, he looked down toward Geoffry, who had noticed the bird’s quick work at severing the prince from his tenuous link to the earth. Efrosin descended through the air rapidly in quick, desperate jerks as Geoffry attempted to reel him in before the damage was done.

  “Shoo!” Geoffry screamed. “Sire, kick him away.”

  Efrosin tried, he truly did, but could not move downward through the air that wished to suck him up into its deadly embrace. Then in one dizzy moment he felt it—the moment the rope broke, and he flew free.

  The wind made off with him, rushing him away from the field where Geoffry stood with the long rope coming down on his head, yelling helplessly for Efrosin. Efrosin was pierced with agonizing exhilaration. His destiny was at hand. He could feel it. The sky that had been his nightmare and fascination since youth would bear him away to his end.

  The clouds whispered across his face, and he laughed in mad, spasmodic hiccups until it became quite hard to breathe. It was all so very funny—the Light Prince met his end as an escaped human kite, the people would say. And with his last drawn breath, he could not stop a final laugh.

  * * * * *

  Dmitri walked the familiar path through the woods to check the traps again. It had been a full week since he’d caught anything, though he wasn’t concerned. Fishing had been plentiful, and he looked forward to harvesting fresh berries and vegetables from his garden later in the month. Still, he did need meat to cure and put aside for winter.

  There was only himself to provide for, but he never knew when there might be another drought, as there had been the year Queen Inna died. He had no memory of it himself, having been just a toddler at the time, but his father had told him often of the hunger that gripped the people and animals, and of the scarcity that had ended many lives. It was one of the more exciting stories in Dmitri’s father’s repertoire, and he’d asked to hear the tale often as a boy.

  There were many important lessons in the stories Dmitri’s father told, of course, but one of the most important had been to think well in advance on matters of survival. So Dmitri did just that, always putting away more than enough meat to weather any famine or provide for an unexpected visitor. Not that a visitor happened by very often. Yet when one did, Dmitri wanted to make a good impression, in case they could be prevailed upon to stay longer, or, at the very least, return for a visit.

  As he rounded the bend that would take him to the boundary, a limit he could sense from several yards in advance, he happened to look up. As he did, his mouth fell open and he dropped his sack.

  There, tangled in the tree limbs above him, was an angel. It had to be an angel because his face was inhumanly beautiful with rosy cheeks and lips, and his hair was such a color that it was surely made of gold itself. His white garments were covered with fine silver detail that glittered in the sunlight. He hung there as though weightless, defying the earth’s pull, actually tugging the branches up, instead of causing them to droop with the burden of holding him.

  Dmitri fell to his knees, and as he stared, the angel’s eyes opened, taking him in. A tremulous laugh reached him, and Dmitri blinked in confusion.

  “Blessed be the west wind,” the angel called out. “Or I should have surely been lost forever. And that would have been entirely unfortunate, because it’s my birthday, you see, and no one should be lost forever on their birthday.”

  Dmitri shook his head, trying to clear the strange vision. Had he fallen asleep in the cabin and dreamed of checking the traps? Was he dreaming still? What an odd thing for an angel to say. Dmitri had never given thought to whether or not angels had birthdays. He supposed they very well might.

  “So—you will fetch me down, of course.” “But how will you go back up?” Dmitri asked, noticing now the angel’s distinct lack of wings. Had he been injured and lost them in the fall? Or had they been removed? Was he a bad sort? Tossed from heaven like Lucifer? Would God expel an angel on his birthday? If so, he must have done something especially wicked.

  “Go back up.” The angel chuckled. “Well, that would be easy enough if I wanted to go up, but I assure you that I’ve had quite enough of up to last forever.” The angel shook with mirth again. “Or until tomorrow. Or whenever I’m overcome with the lust for it once more. It’s quite delightful, except that it’s terrifying. Which is, of course, how so many of the best things are.”

  Was that any way to speak of heaven? Dmitri tilted his head, he took in the angel’s bare feet and the short rope tied to one ankle. “Are you an angel?” he said, deciding it was best to get that part out of the way at once.

  “No. I’m a prince. Surely you’ve heard of me? The Light Prince. Efrosin? Son of Leo, King of Goldenthal? We’re truly quite famous in these parts, given that it’s our kingdom.” The peals of laughter should have been insulting, but seemed without malice to Dmitri’s ears.

  Of course he’d heard of the Light Prince. But he’d thought the tales told by the old crones and beggars passing through were exaggerated, as most tales are. Yet the man hung there before Dmitri in a tree, as though he were a kite, still being tugged by the breeze.

  “Truly, it is life or death,” the Light Prince said. “I know it must not seem very serious given my disposition and inability to stop laughing—because it is incredibly funny—but I assure you that I cannot help that, and should you leave me here much longer, the wind will have its way and I’ll be cast upon the mercy of the heavens again.”

  Dmitri took in his blinding smile and tried to reconcile the chipper tone of voice with the professed circumstances. Hadn’t the travelers who’d told him stories of the Light Prince said that the malady extended to his manner and personality, resulting in a perpetual lack of depth to any grave feeling?

  “If it’s a hope for reward money that has you dallying about, let me assure—”

  “No! Of course not. Certainly I’ll help you, my good prince, but I must admit I’ve never fished a weightless man from a tree before. How do I start, sire?”

  “Start by calling me Efrosin, or I will laugh myself into a stupor with your ‘good prince’ here and ‘sire’ there, and general attitude of obeisance. I am not my father, and it will only make me piss myself with giggles to have you bend and jump at my every breath. So I beg of you to take pity, and not make me laugh any harder than I already am.”

  “Yes, my…Efrosin.”

  “Quite right. Now, your Efrosin believes that Geoffry usually fetches a rope—truly, he always has one handy since I must be tied down so very often. Then he climbs the tree, ties the rope to my wrist or ankle before also tying it to his own, lest he lose his grip on me. The rest I’ll tell you when we are faceto-face.”

  He sounded coy and Dmitri wondered at that but only long enough for Efrosin to burst into gales of laughter. “You should have seen your expression,” he cried. “So shocked! So very funny!” And as his body shook, the branches seemed to loosen their grip on Efrosin’s body. There was no time to waste.

  Dmitri grabbed his sack, ripped the cord from the drawstring closure and started up the tree. He scaled it as quickly as possible, glad the boundary only applied to the land and that the sky had no power to confine him. As he reached the limbs beneath the prince, he grabbed hold of Efrosin’s ankle, the one with a length of rope still dangling from it, and tied the rope to his own ankle.

  When it was fastened, he quickly bound Efrosin’s wrist to his own with the cord and worked to unhook the prince’s silky clothes from the twigs and small branches. Then he grabbed Efrosin’s outstretched hand, jerked, and was shocked when the man flew without any resistance toward him, weighing less than a puff of cotton.

  As their bodies collided, Dmitri gripped Efrosin around the waist, and he stared into Efrosin’s handsome face. Endless laughter filled Efrosin’s blue eyes, and his lush mouth was shiny with a
n abused look about his open lips, as though he’d been biting them in an unsuccessful attempt to stop his mirth. Dmitri had never seen a human being so beautiful.

  Dmitri didn’t understand it, but as he gazed at Efrosin’s lips, he felt a heretofore unfamiliar, and yet compelling surge of need pulse through him, and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed those lips. The answering gasp, followed by more laughter that seemed to fill his own mouth and tickle against his palate, did not discourage him at all.

  Efrosin’s lips were soft and his tongue was slick and he didn’t pull away from Dmitri’s clumsy attempt, but rather deepened the kiss in a way that made Dmitri’s toes curl and blood rush to his cock. For a confused moment he thought he was kissing an angel before he remembered that he was only kissing a prince. A free-floating, beautiful, powerful, laughing prince. Perhaps “only” was not quite the proper word.

  “Lovely,” Efrosin exclaimed, pulling away and licking his lips. “I hope you intend to ravish me, because I have always imagined it would be quite fun to be ravished. No one’s ever tried it with me, alas.” Efrosin frowned a little and licked his mouth. “You taste like dirt. It’s delicious, though I’ve never enjoyed the taste of dirt before. How odd.”

  “You taste like clouds,” Dmitri said, hoping it was a compliment.

  “I ate quite a few during my journey to this tree,” Efrosin said. “I…feel a bit strange. Quick. Kiss me again.”

  Dmitri, reminded of Efrosin’s perilous flight, came to his senses, and while he was not willing to say that he would not kiss the prince again, he did think there were just a few things that should be accomplished first. “We must get you down.”

  Efrosin frowned, seeming much less intent on getting back to the earth now that he had company in the tree. “But you will kiss me again?”

  “Once we’re safe.” Dmitri looked down to choose which limbs they should try, and immediately wished he hadn’t. His head swirled with the distance between his body and the earth below. He’d never before climbed so high.

  “Safe is such a thrilling state of being. I can’t remember the last time I felt safe. Grip my hands,” Efrosin said. “Don’t let go.”

  Dmitri took Efrosin’s smooth hands into his own, and Efrosin began to shake with amusement again. “Your calluses tickle. Now hold tight. It will be fun.”

  “What will be?” Dmitri asked.

  “Jump.”

  “What?”

  “We are tied hand and foot, and you have hold of my hands. All will be well. Trust me.”

  It was surprisingly hard to trust laughing royalty. “We’ll die. It’s too far.”

  “Too far? What a silly notion.”

  Dmitri’s last thought when Efrosin kicked his feet out from under him with a

  strong swipe was,At least I got to kiss him.

  They tumbled into the air, crashing into branches below until Efrosin pushed off against the tree trunk, thrusting them both clear. It was only then Dmitri realized how slowly the ground rose up to meet them.

  “Your weight to bring us down,” Efrosin sang in his ear. “My levity to keep us from being quite smashed.” There was more laughter, and then a curl of words in his ear, which, coupled with the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, made Dmitri’s cock stiffen against the hard bone of Efrosin’s hip. “And you will ravish me, won’t you? Once we’re on the ground. You promised. You’re so handsome, and your hands are so big. I’m aquiver at the thought of you on me, in me, touching me—”

  “Oh my God,” Dmitri choked. “Do you speak to everyone who gets you down from trees this way?”

  Efrosin’s face twisted in horror. “Heavens no! Geoffry is nearly fifty years old. And the knights have never kissed me.” The merriment was back, though, as Dmitri’s feet alighted on the earth, and Efrosin’s floated an inch above it. “But I would if the knights ever tried. Especially Sir Carlisle with that beard.” Efrosin eyed him. “You are quite clean-shaven; have you ever thought of growing a beard?”

  “I can’t say I have.”

  “Beards are nice. Scratchy along the skin. I’ve noticed this quite often when Sir Carlisle has carried me, of course.” Efrosin sighed dreamily, causing a strange, unpleasant feeling to twist in Dmitri’s stomach.

  So he kissed Efrosin again.

  “Oh forget about beards,” Efrosin breathed against Dmitri’s lips. “The idiot never kissed me. Unlike very handsome, very,” here Efrosin moved his hips against the length of Dmitri’s cock, “hard you. This is rather lovely. Such a grand adventure. What a good birthday this is turning out to be.”

  Chapter Two

  “You could rope me to that tree,” Efrosin argued, bobbing along just above the woodland path beside the dark-haired, darkeyed man. The man who had saved him from certain death and—better yet—had kissed him. “I wouldn’t complain. It would be amusing, I’m sure, especially if you’ll kiss me more and harder, and then do things to make the great pleasure descend.”

  The man gritted his teeth. “I said no.” Still bound ankle to ankle, and wrist to wrist, so that Efrosin remained upright and floated along beside him not too far off the ground, the stranger pulled Efrosin with him down the path. Gnarled, ancient trees rose above them, twisted branches and thick leaves arching overhead and, in some places, blotting out the sky altogether.

  “Whyever not?”

  “I’m not about to tie you to a tree and fuck you. We’ve known each other minutes. Is this how it’s usually done in the royal court?”

  “Perhaps? It seems quite likely.”

  “Well, don’t you prefer it to be a little more…I don’t know…romantic?”

  Efrosin had never felt anything like this before. His body seemed to burn for the man’s touch. Even his prick had woken from its slumber, and Efrosin chuckled over how odd it felt, heavy and aching in his trousers. What did his tutor tell him it was called? Ah yes. Lust. It was a rather divine and entertaining sensation, now that he knew it. He thought of how silly and desperate men behaved when consumed by it, and he hoped to be just as silly and desperate, indeed.

  He licked his mouth to taste the man’s spit still on his lips and stood up as straight as he could considering he was floating. “I am not a girl and nor are you. I do not need to be treated with kid gloves. Besides, what on earth could be more romantic than being taken in a hard and desperate manner by my rescuing prince?”

  “I’m not a prince.” His eyes were on Efrosin’s mouth, and he stumbled a little over a tree root in his distraction. Efrosin licked his lips again with a slow swipe of his tongue. The man sighed. “Do stop that.”

  Efrosin knew that the man wanted to get back to the relative safety of his home, where there would be no risk of Efrosin floating into the sky. But Efrosin could tell that resolve was weakening. “You can have me in your house too,” Efrosin said. “In fact, I insist upon it.”

  His rescuer appeared flustered. “Would you not like to get back to your castle?”

  “But why? I’m having a great deal of fun imagining what you’re going to do to me.”

  The man frowned, a wonderful little line forming between his eyes, and Efrosin marveled at his urge to lick it. He’d never understood the term “wanton” until now. This delirium was lovely.

  “This is all very confusing. I left my house an hour ago to check my traps, and now I’m tied to a floating prince who is trying to get me to bugger him, and doesn’t even know my name.”

  “Sir, must we exchange names? It seems too amusing to think that I might never know what you are called. Don’t tell me.”

  “Dmitri,” he said, frowning. “My name is Dmitri, and the idea of you not knowing does not amuse me at all.”

  Efrosin’s mouth formed the name silently, and then he said it aloud. “Dmitri.” The strangest thing happened—his toe dragged on the ground.

  He tried it again. “Dmitri.” And again his toe brushed over roots and rocks as he was pulled along, tied as he was to Dmitri’s wrist and a
nkle. He found he didn’t want to laugh about it. That alone frightened him more than his brush with the earth. But then it passed, and he felt as free of weight as ever.

  “Yes, that’s my name. You say it like you’ve never heard it before. Is there no one else named Dmitri in all your kingdom?”

  “Oh yes, quite a few. There’s a stable hand, and a footman and a little snottynosed chimney sweep who coughs all the time. I rather dislike them all, actually. They always seem…wrong.”

  Dmitri listened to these revelations with a flat expression.

  “Do you think it comes with the name?” Efrosin asked. “Are you a bit wrong?”

  His lips curved into a small, rueful smile. “I should say so.”

  Efrosin said, “I don’t know. You seem quite entirely right to me.”

  Dmitri ignored his appraisal. “Smoke signals would be an option were the woods not so dangerously dry this spring. But a single spark could set the forest alight. No one comes by this way again until late summer. Even the river flows in the wrong direction, but perhaps we could send a note downstream anyway.”

  “Oh do end with all this worry. They will find me by and by. The wind could not have blown me too very far. What is the distance to Castle Goldenthal? Two leagues? Five?” How delightful the thought was of being such a long way from home.

  “More like ten, sire, or so I hear. I’m afraid I don’t know firsthand.”

  “Thrilling! My birthday party starts at seven. It seems that I will miss it, which is a shame. There were to be elephants and singers, and a brilliant cake made to look like a river. It was to be quite long and very blue.”

  Dmitri stared at him slack-jawed.

  “But never mind. You can make it up to me with kisses.” Efrosin leaned forward and took one. Dmitri’s mouth was better than cake or elephants or singers. It was so good Efrosin didn’t know how to categorize it or contain it. So, of course, he laughed, and Dmitri jerked away.