Eternal Samurai (49 page)

“There is something else I’d like to feel coming off my tongue,” Arisada stroked Tatsu’s semi-hard cock.

“Oh yes, that feels so good. But give me a moment.” He heard his own voice, rough as if he’d swallowed gravel. No not gravel. Arisada’s creamy cum. Gouts of it. Damn it was sure no myth about a vampire’s libido.

“How many times have we fucked?” Shit, he knew how man. The delicious ache deep in his belly, the pulsing rawness in his rim, told him.

“You know how many times. And don’t be so smug about it, sexy boy.”

“Boy? Technically, I’m only a year younger than you.”

“Age is immaterial.
Gomen
. I know you are sore. I’ve fucked you five times.”

“I love how you say fuck. Better, I love how you do it. For an ancient Buddhist monk, you sure talk dirty.” Tatsu shifted closer, nudging his prick into the vampire’s groin, loving the feel of that too. And loving the pain in his throbbing, oh-so-very-fuck ass that he figured he wouldn’t be sitting on for days.

“Impertinent boy, I may be an old Buddhist monk, but I’m no eunuch,” Arisada’s laugh reverberated against Tatsu’s chest.

Suddenly, Tatsu wanted to know everything about Arisada. Good and bad. “When did you learn to speak English?”

“In Nagasaki, from a British cabin boy. The poor lad had visited a pleasure house and passed out from too much wine. When he awoke, his ship was many hours gone. I found him huddled in a doorway, soaking wet from the rain, sobbing his heart out.
Mochiron,
I took him home. At first, he was inconsolable. It was not only the abandonment by his crewmates, but that he was in love with his captain and feared he’d never see the man again.”

“How old was he?” Tatsu felt a quick pain as he identified with the young boy leaving home, everything familiar. Perhaps never again to see his family, his homeland.

“He arrived at
uzuki,
April, in 1610. He thought he was perhaps sixteen, maybe seventeen. He was never sure. We were together for two years. He taught me to speak English, and I taught him all the ways men could enjoy their bodies.”

Tatsu propped himself up on one elbow to look into Arisada’s face. “Did you love him?”

Arisada reached up to brush a tangle of hair away from Tatsu’s forehead. He noticed the small frown between his beloved’s jade eyes. “Don’t be jealous, Su-kun. I was fond of him but I have had only one soulmate in my unseemly long lifetime. Only you.”

“Not jealous, just sad for him.” He curled back into the comfort of Arisada’s arm. “Did he know you were
kyūketsuki
?”

“No, he believed I belonged to an eccentric religious order, and my duties took me away during the day.”

“Did he reunite with his captain?”

“His ship never returned. He died of a fever.”

Tatsu shivered at the statement. “You couldn’t save him?”

“I was gone for several days. Sometimes it was necessary to allay suspicion. I mourned him. He was precious to me.”

“Have you had many like that, precious I mean?”

“No, my oath to the Daimyō always put my lovers in danger. Just that boy and two others, including Fornax.”

“Your Primary.” A statement not a question. Tatsu had seen the love in Fornax’s eyes when he spoke of Arisada.

“He was a gentle man who followed the Eight Fold Path. I should have killed him. But soldiers interrupted me. Later, I took him as my companion.”

“Were you his only lover?”

“Oh no. He had many lovers before Sadomori mutilated him. He was gorgeous and vampire and human alike bedded him often. Recently, I sensed he’d given his heart to someone, although I do not know who.”

“His body was not found. Maybe he survived.”

“
Tabun
, perhaps. I am not ready to grieve his death yet. I have lost too many.”

Tatsu tightened his arm around that too-slim waist and staked his claim. “I’m not going away. Ever.” Tatsu nuzzled closer, loving the musky odor of sex-ladened sweat. Arisada’s sweat.

The vampire sighed. He wanted to believe in the promise, in those words, but, oh, their precious naïveté. The harsh reality of their true difference lay between them. Tatsu’s lifespan would be only a handful of decades. Arisada could live for centuries. No, not centuries. Not even one day longer than his beloved. He would commit
seppuku
within the hour of Tatsu’s death.

“Can you make peace with time, Su-kun? How it is different for us?”

“As much as I can. I am at peace with that. Besides, no one can predict the future. I just wonder what is going to happen in Seattle. A lot of folks are blaming vampires for destroying the Needle. Things could get ugly. And Tendai has no leader.”

“Tendai has a leader. I am the natural successor to Sadomori.” Arisada sounded as if the idea was distasteful.

“Oh, if you become king, I will be queen.” Tatsu’s laughter spilled out. And in that, all the hurt from years of hatred and bigotry dissolved. How wonderfully queer to experience such healing from the love of a vampire!

The logic of the situation burst upon Arisada. “Su-kun, with you by my side we can forge peace between Seattle’s two races. We can rebuild the city.”

Tatsu sat up, his jade eyes sparkling. “I have a degree in bio-engineering. I know where improvements could be made.”

The vampire interrupted by pulling him down against his breast. “I believe this is how our
karmas
will atone.

Arisada drew the sheet over them, “Enough talk, sweet boy.
Nete, kudasai
. Sleep, please.”

Arisada listened to his lover’s breathing as it deepened into sleep. He reached down and found Tatsu’s kimono on the floor. Dug out the battered lighter and pack of Kings, lit one, took his first drag in decades. A mild rush of nicotine hummed along his nerves. He watched the lazy curl of smoke. Wondered about the end of his servitude to Ukita Sadomori.

He was not convinced Sadomori was dead. Old, cunning, paranoid, the Daimyō always had an escape plan. And even if dead, Arisada knew Sadomori’s legacy of torture and rape would always haunt him and his
koibito.

But for now, Arisada let peace flow into his soul. His soulmate lay wrapped around him, clinging tight even in sleep. He extinguished the smoke, pressed against Tatsu and enclosed him with a fierce possessiveness. His leg, draped across Tatsu’s hip, felt the responding nudge of his semi-hard cock. Arisada traced his forefinger over his lover’s sleeping mouth, lips parted around the tip of a pretty, pink tongue.

Saito Arisada whispered prayers of gratitude to the gentle Buddha Amida for guiding him in the Way of the Samurai, granting him honor and love.

And for Tatsu Cobb, whose beautiful
tamashii
had restored the honor of Koji Nowaki.

B. D. Heywood, 2012

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About the author:

Born and educated in England, B. D. Heywood lived in several countries before moving to the United States. On the way to a career as an award-winning journalist, Heywood worked as a researcher, teacher, lecturer and construction estimator with a short, side trip into demolition.

Heywood’s study of Buddhism and martial arts evolved from a long-time admiration for the culture and history of Japan. The Battle of Mii-dera in Japan in 1180 inspired the story for
Eternal Samurai
. A love for all things samurai and vampire and hard-hitting erotica led to the creation of this unique, cross-genre story.

According to a playwright friend, whose productions have sizzled the stage for many years, the novel contains “the best damn, gay erotica” he has ever read.

In addition to working on a second M/M novel and an anthology of erotic gay stories, Heywood provides editorial services for clients in the medical, engineering and environmental industries. Any spare time goes to training horses, advocating for gay rights, and supporting several community organizations including an equine rescue operation.

To reach the author, please e-mail: [email protected]

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ICINI Publishing Co.

P. O. Box 39746
Phoenix, AZ 85069

ISBN-13: 978-0988300002