Blood of a Dragoon

Part Four: A Dragoons Thirst

Morgan slightly flinched as Tavington ran his fingers over his wound. The commander was knelling in front of him his eyes tracing the delicate sweep of the gash. One of the Colonels hands was resting on the younger mans waist, his long tapered fingers spread across his back to keep Morgan steady as he was examined.

Tavington slightly snorted tracing the now thin cut with the tip of his finger. Though his face remained emotionless his eyes held a certain gleam of satisfaction. "You are healing well…which is surprising due the amount of…" He trailed off glancing up at Morgan's face, amused at the shade of scarlet that graced the young man's features.

Grinning like the edge of a curved dagger he leant forward and kissed the soft skin of Morgan's belly. The soldier gasped his fingers curling around the edges of his chair. Tavington laughed against his skin, licking a fiery trail to the edge of Morgan's breeches. His eyes shifting up only when he felt long fingers tangle in his hair.

He stopped his actions his fingers softly running along silken ribbon that laced up the crotch of Morgan's pants. His eyes suddenly snapped to the partially open flap of his tent. Faintly, they could hear soft thud of hoofs. Tavington slowly stood from his knelt position catching Morgan's lips in a fierce kiss. "We will continue this…examination when I return."

Morgan nodded his eyes rolling to the opening of the tent their amber depths holding a trace amount of fear. Tavington sighed his fingers brushing the side of Morgan's neck, "Don't fret I'm sure it's just a scout." Pulling on his jacket the Commander took one last longing glance back Morgan before he ducked out of the tent.The young man remained motionless from a moment trying in vain to slow his racing pulse. He smiled, leaning back in the chair, the whispers of Tavington's fingers still ghosting his skin. His Colonel was right; the gash was healing very well. He placed his palm over the wound and closed his eyes.

Tavington stood leaning casually against the support post his tent. His hat was tucked under his right arm, and he held his pistol loosely in his other hand. He eyed the scout before him with certain…disdain. Yes, that was an accurate description. To be even more honest the sight of the young heralds garrison colors made him slightly…nauseated.

The young man reined his horse the huge beast slowing to a trot before stopping before the irritated Colonel. There was a haughty glint in soldier's eyes as he gazed down at the Commander from his high position. With out even bowing a greeting he reached into his tunic and drew forth a sealed scroll. He casually tossed it to Tavington his voice carrying more authority then the commander thought necessary. "General Cornwallis expects your presence in Kingstown two weeks from this day…be sure you attend…."

Tavington gazed up at the arrogant little whelp a strained smirk plastered on his face. He nodded his hand tightening on the handle of his gun and when he spoke his voice was laced with venom. "Of course…I hope the…General is in good health…. Send him my regards wont you…boy?" The young man slightly reddened and opened his mouth only to hear the noise of a hammer being pulled back on a gun. "It would be wise to keep a civil tongue in your head because sometimes soldiers like you …often have unfortunate, nasty accidents…."

A smirk tugged at the corners of Tavington's mouth and he leveled the nozzle of the gun at the young man's head. "Now, kindly remove your worthless carcass from my garrison." The herald before him snorted his voice laden with suppressed anger "My uncle will hear of this…."

"Go ahead and tell him," Tavington snarled a smile creeping across his features his voice becoming laden with sarcasm "I am sure he will hasten down here and kill me."

For a moment Tavington thought he had gone too far and that Cornwallis's nephew was going to swing down off his horse and fight him regardless of the pistol. He glared at Tavington his lips pulled back in a snarl his eyes flaring with rage.

Then the young man abruptly spun his horse, showering Tavington with dirt. The beast's iron shod hooves gleaming dully in the shadows of the trees as he trotted off. For a moment the Colonel thought of leveling his gun at the young mans retreating form and sending a bullet through his empty skull, then blaming it on the rebels. 'Oh, how deliciously tempting.' Reluctantly he lowered his weapon…it would have been a waste of ammunition anyway.

When Tavington strode back into the tent he found Morgan just as he had left him. The young man glanced up at his lover and managed a weak smile "I didn't hear any gun fire…." Tavington sighed and laid his pistol on the table, his eyes smoldering with unspent anger.

He returned Morgan's smile and drew in a deep breath forcing the rage from his body. He reached forward and laid his hands on Morgan's shoulders softly nuzzling the side of the young man's face. Gently he let his finger slip down his lover arms until they reached his waist. He smiled against the soft skin of Morgan's neck as the young man shivered at the graceful, spidery touch.

He slowly knelt to his former position, his fingers tracing a light pattern across Morgan's hips to the very top of his breeches. Leaning forward he softly kissed the young mans healing wound, running his tongue over the new skin, reveling in his lover's soft cries and gasps of blurred passion. He was beginning to writhe in his chair his fingers gripping Tavington's hair so hard it was almost painful. The Colonel

He bit down on Morgan's hip relishing in the soft groan the escapes his lover's lips. Shifting his hands so that they stilled the younger man's wriggling hips he drew his head back to look at Morgan. His lover's eyes are closed tight and a light blush dusting his cheeks and neck, he was biting his lower lips so hard that a thin rivulet of blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Tavington spoke softly his eyes dancing with passion tainted with an animalistic lust. "Look at me, my Morgan." Slowly the young man followed the order settling his glazed on Tavington. The Colonel was smirking up at him, "Do not take your gaze from me…understand?"

Morgan nodded swallowing his breath suddenly hitching in his throat as his lover trailing rough kisses to his to his lower belly. Tavington softly laughed dragging his tongue across the silken ribbons that crisscrossed against the crotch of Morgan's breeches. The commander lapped at the silk, drawing forth wanton cries and moans from his lover. Tavington drank in these sounds moving his fingers from Morgan's hips to stroke his inner thighs.

The young man groaned his head tipping back tearing his gaze from the man knelt at his feet. He jerked when he felt a harsh bit on the junction of his hip and thigh. "Look at me Morgan," another nibble this one less rough "do not make me have to ask again."

Morgan's reply was ragged and tainted with a gentle sob "My apologies Commander…." and for a moment Tavington's breathe left him. The intense urge to pull Morgan from his…modest position and throw him into bed and ravish him until the next morning made him ground his teeth.

Softly snarling he drew in a shallow breath, cursing the heat that flared in his lower belly at Morgan's gasping need. Making sure that Morgan's eyes were unwavering he returned to his task. Holding his lover still he gently nipped at the fabric now tightly stretched across Morgan's crotch, silently enjoying the hardness beneath his lips. Thirsty for more of his lovers delicate, keening cries his fingers began to unlace the confining, silken ribbons of the Morgan's breeches.

The younger man gasped when he saw Tavington take him, his eyes rolling back in his head as his commander's heat consumed. Forcing him self to refocus on the enchanting figure knelt between his thighs, he lightly threaded his fingers through Tavington's hair. The older man drew away his hands slithering back up to the tops of his lovers hips. Hooking his fingers in the fabric of Morgan's breeches he slowly drew the garment down. Kissing and nipping at the new flesh that newly exposed skin, Tavington lightly trailed his fingers along Morgan's heat. His lover shuttered, a moan slipping unhindered from his lips, his eyes blurred trying, in vain to stay focused on his lover.

Tavington smiled enjoying watching the younger man squirm. He waited…patiently until her was sure that he had Morgan's full, undivided attention. Smirking he bowed his head, running his tongue along his lovers length to his the soft flesh of his inner thigh. He bit down hard. The thick, hot taste of blood filled his mouth and he moaned sucking at the shallow wound he caused.

Faintly he could hear Morgan's panting breath his voice pleading with him, begging him to take him, to end this torture. Tavington shifted his eyes up, staring into Morgan's amber eyes, desire turning their dark color to a shimmer brown that smoldered with unsatisfied fire. He grinned, his teeth tainted with his lover blood and slowly stood. Reaching forward he took Morgan's hand and drew him to his feet. Wrapping one arm firmly around his waist Tavington roughly pulled his young lover to him. He kissed him possessively hard, his other hand cupping the back of Morgan's thighs.

Tavington gently took a step forward pressing Morgan back to his bed. The young solider gasped when the backs of his knee's struck the side of the cot hand he was pushed backwards. Before he regain his sensed Tavington was upon him straddling his waist, grinding his hips forward at an agonizingly slow pace.

Morgan choked back a sob his voice spilling from his lips, begging "Please Colonel….I want you to…Taving…." His sentence shattered into a ragged moan as Tavington thrust hard against him.

The Commander's voice suddenly hissed in his ear, hot and thick. Morgan shivered at the words his Colonel hissed in his ear. "What do you want me to do Morgan?..."