“It has been a long time for you,” Ben murmured, allowing his other hand to dip into the water. “I want you ready and relaxed.”
Swallowing past the tightness of his throat, Alex nodded. “I appreciate the forethought.”
Ben’s hand went under the water, his fingertips skimming along Alex’s belly. They trailed through the light trail of hairs leading toward Alex’s groin, then brushed the length of his stiff cock.
His breaths quickening, Alex laid back and closed his eyes. “Ben, I … I had hoped we could talk about something important.”
“Is that so?” Ben murmured, his words low and teasing as he wrapped his hand around Alex’s erection. “Very well, then. Talk.”
Alex thrust into Ben’s tight and warm fist, the callouses on his palms abrading the soft, sensitive skin. “That isn’t fair. I can hardly think when you’re doing that, let alone talk.”
“Hmm,” Ben mumbled, releasing Alex’s cock to fondle his bollocks. “Then I suppose it will have to wait. Unless … you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare,” Alex groaned, spreading his legs as Ben’s fingers crept past his balls, pressing and massaging.
Ben chuckled and did as he was bade, slowly working his way between Alex’s cheeks. His first finger pressed against Alex’s hole, then lightly circled with teasing strokes.
“Oil?” Ben asked.
“On the washstand,” Alex choked out.
“Good. On your hands and knees.”
Alex complied, limbs trembling as he maneuvered so that he knelt in the tub, the water lapping at his chest. He flinched when Ben touched him, a strong hand gripping one of his buttocks and moving it aside. The cool air of the washroom left him feeling exposed and vulnerable, Ben’s gaze in his most intimate of places only exacerbating the effect. But, his cock was unbearably hard, begging for stimulation and release.
The oil was warm and slick as Ben trickled it between Alex’s cheeks, and his blunt fingers followed, massaging the taut opening and offering light pressure. Alex lowered his head to the lip of the tub, staring down at the undulating beams of light cutting through the water as he did his best to open himself to the invasion. It had been so long, he’d nearly forgotten the painful pleasure of being stretched and filled, fucked toward a stunning climax. The endless nights of frigging himself to thoughts of Benedict or the images printed in his lascivious books had only ever taken the edge off. Now that he could finally have what he’d been longing for all this time, Alex wasn’t certain he would last long enough to enjoy it. He was a bundle of nerve endings, exposed and raw and ready to be set off at the slightest touch.
Benedict’s finger breached him, slicked with more of the oil. He was slow and patient, working the finger in and out and easing Alex into accepting him. Alex reached beneath himself to grip his cock, desperate for more and wanting it all so badly it hurt.
“No,” Ben commanded, his finger going still inside Alex. “Not yet. Keep your hands at the bottom of the tub or I’ll stop.”
“Bugger you, Ben,” Alex rasped.
“I rather thought I would be the one buggering you, and if you want that, you’ll do as you’re told.”
Alex bit back a litany of curses and insults, knowing Ben’s threat wasn’t idle. If Ben stopped now, Alex was certain he would die.
He winced at the addition of a second finger, the burning sensation heightening. Still, his arousal lost none of its urgency, pulsing and swelling with need. Alex widened his legs as far as the tub allowed and raised his hips, urging Ben on. Curling his fingers in a come-hither motion, Ben found the nub of flesh within Alex that made his toes curl and his insides wind taut.
“Ben,” he rasped, drowning in sensations. “God …”
“You’re almost ready for the plug, I think,” Ben replied, his own voice thick and heavy with lust. “Can you take more?”
No, he wanted to say. No, he couldn’t possibly take more without being torn in two. But then, Ben’s cock was significantly larger than two fingers. Alex would have to grit his teeth and bear this, knowing that the payoff in the end would be well worth it.
“Yes,” he ground out. “Keep going.”
Ben made a low sound of approval, continuing in his teasing ministrations. He added more oil as he worked his fingers in and out of Alex while seeming to determine the right time to stretch him further. Alex swallowed a yelp of agony when the third finger intruded, but Ben’s skilled strokes soon overtook the pain. The tension in Alex’s back eased, and he pushed back against Ben’s fingers. His hands itched to take hold of his cock, but Alex knew better than to test Ben’s threat.
The torment seemed to go on forever, but before long, Ben abruptly eased his fingers free and nudged the tip of the oil-soaked plug against him. Alex followed Ben’s lead, slowly pushing back to take in the plug. He held his breath as the widest part of it passed through the tight ring of his anus, then issued it on a sigh of relief as the rest of it swiftly followed. The throb of invasion dulled as the sensation of overwhelming fullness replaced it. Ben was gone when Alex gingerly knelt up and turned—looming over the washstand and cleaning his hands.
“Take your time coming to bed,” Ben said while drying with fresh linen. “Slow steps.”
Alex could offer no response, too busy maneuvering himself in the tub to finish washing while trying to ignore the plug taking up place inside him. Despite Ben’s directive to take his time, Alex hurried through his ablutions, eager to get on with it.
As a force of habit, he donned a dressing gown on his way to the bedroom, loosely tying it about his waist. The plug shifted and pressed against his inner walls with every step he took, and the abrasion of the fabric against his bare skin sent shivers racing through him.
Ben was seated on the edge of the bed watching Alex, amusement twinkling in his eyes like chips of sapphire. “Ever fashionable, even in the bedroom, eh?”
Alex ran a hand over the silken gold lapel of his robe and smirked. “I cannot seem to help myself.”
Ben slowly came to his feet, his hands drawing Alex’s eye as he began to disrobe. Alex followed those big, powerful hands as they tugged his shirt free and eased it upward, slowly revealing the whorls of hair spread over that hard, muscle-packed torso. The swells of his chest bunched and stretched as he lowered his arms and worked at his trouser buttons—his intimidating cock already showing against the fabric in a swollen outline. Alex watched with parted lips as the trousers fell away, giving him his first glimpse of Ben entirely naked in over three years.
He was more magnificent than ever, etched with grooves and sinews like a Greek statue. Of course, his prick was more impressive than those found in a museum, heavy and long and adorned with thick veins. It took everything Alex had not to drop to his knees then and there, taking that mouthwatering length to the back of his throat.
Instead, he stood completely still and let Ben come to him, his heart beating against his ribs. Ben circled behind Alex, hands wrapping around his waist to tug at the belt of the dressing gown. The robe slid off his shoulders and fell at his feet, allowing Ben’s cockstand to nudge against the back of his thigh. Alex closed his eyes and eased into Ben’s hold, absorbing every touch and allowing his faint memories to tangle with the present. Ben’s hands skimmed up his belly and over the muscles of his chest, thumbs and forefingers tugging at his nipples. Alex groaned, swaying back into Ben’s sturdy body, one hand coming up to cup his nape.
Ben nuzzled his neck, lazy flicks of his tongue and presses of his lips sending a tingle down Alex’s spine. Ben flexed his hips, nudging his cock at the cleft between Alex’s legs, teasing what was soon to come. Alex shuddered and tightened his hold on Ben, waiting for the traveling hands to find their way where he wanted them most. As if he’d read Alex’s mind, Ben let one hand drift downward. His fingers combed through the hairs at Alex’s groin, then circled the base of his cock.
Alex cried out when Ben gave his cock a long, firm stroke, his arse clenching around the plug. He
threaded his fingers through the damp hair at Ben’s nape, holding him tight. Ben nibbled and bit along Alex’s shoulder while steadily working his cock.
Certain he wouldn’t be able to stay on his feet much longer, Alex placed a hand over Ben’s, stilling it.
“I can’t wait,” he panted, already on the edge of a climax. “I want you now.”
“Be patient,” Ben warned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t care. Fuck me, Ben.”
Apparently, it was all Ben needed to hear, because at that moment he propelled Alex to the bed. Alex went up onto the mattress, pulling a pillow toward himself and laying over it, hips up and head down. Ben followed, using a knee to nudged Alex’s legs farther apart, then positioning himself so that their thighs fit together.
“Are you sure?” Ben asked. “You can just wear the plug for tonight, and we can—”
“For Christ’s sake, I’m not some frightened virgin!” Alex snapped, his arousal giving way to agitation the longer he was made to wait. “It’s been years. I don’t intend to wait another moment. I’ll be fine.”
Ben said nothing in response, but he did begin to slowly pull the plug free of Alex’s arse. Alex clung to his cushion, biting his lip as the hard metal stretched him again before falling free. Then, he felt the cool trickle of more oil, followed by the press of Ben’s cockhead.
Panic came over Alex as he’d vastly underestimated the sheer size of Ben compared to his back passage, but he took deep, slow breaths and reminded himself that they’d done this many times before. Ben held fast to his hips, his breaths harsh as he slowly began easing into Alex. The sharp sting and flare of heat stole Alex’s breath as Ben’s wide head pushed through, nearly the size of the largest part of the plug. Alex clenched his jaw, pushing back on the thick length demanding invasion into his body.
“Holy Christ,” Ben gasped as he nudged his way in deeper. “Fuck … fuck!’
Alex might have echoed those sentiments if he hadn’t been robbed of speech as well as breath. He was on fire, the pain of being invaded mingling with a distant pleasure, and the realization that this was finally happening. Ben was here, inside him, close enough to smell and touch and feel. Alex nearly wept from the poignant intensity of the moment, one he had feared might never come.
“All right?” Ben asked, pausing with about one third of his length lodged inside Alex.
“Yes,” Alex ground out. “Keep going.”
Ben obliged, adding more oil before pushing in further, using his grasp on Alex’s hips to pull him back into the slow, forward thrust. Pulling out a little, he then pushed in a bit further, drawing a sharp yelp from Alex at the resulting burn. But Ben gained another inch, then another, and after what felt like an eternity, found his way in to the hilt. He paused, his harsh breaths mingling with Alex’s short, strained ones. Alex let himself experience the feeling of fullness, marveling at the crisp rasp of Ben’s leg hairs along the backs of his thighs, the strength of the hands holding him steady, the solid presence holding him together when he felt he might fall apart.
Ben’s hand slid along his thigh before delving inward, finding Alex’s jutting cock. Alex fought not to push into the fist clenching around him, holding perfectly still as Ben stroked him, the pleasure of it tangling with the ache in his arse until the two were indistinguishable.
“God, the way you feel,” Ben murmured, his lips brushing the shell of Alex’s ear. “So tight and hot. Did you miss me, Alex?”
There were equal parts a taunt and a real question in those words, and Alex decided to be honest and speak to the part of Ben that seemed to really want to know.
“So much it hurt,” he whispered, his eyes prickling with sudden emotion. “Every hour of every day.”
Ben didn’t respond aloud, his grip tightening on Alex’s cock as he rolled his hips. They groaned in unison, the stroke of Ben’s rod sending waves of exquisite pleasure and a heated ache throughout Alex’s entire body. Ben did it again, then again, slowly withdrawing a few inches and plunging, his hand never faltering in its rhythm around Alex’s cock.
Face buried in the counterpane, Alex moved with him, rocking back to meet each thrust, then pushing his cock into the circle of Ben’s fingers. Ben skillfully acted on Alex’s unspoken urgings—the sharp intake of his breath, the arch of his back, his euphoric moans of pleasure. He quickened his pace when he realized Alex could take it, that he wanted it more than he wanted his next breath.
Ben’s weight pressed Alex down into the mattress, one hand working his cock, the other braced on his shoulder. Ben’s pelvis battered at him now, hard and relentless, the path eased by his careful coaxing and the lubrication of the oil. Alex was lost, utterly at Ben’s mercy and never wanting it to be any other way. His climax nipped at his heels, propelled along by Ben’s perfectly angled thrusts and the pulls of his hand. Alex tried to fight it off, praying for more time, but the force of it was too powerful. Alex cried out his ecstasy as release overtook him with limb-shaking intensity. It seemed to go on forever, his gut clenching and his back arching as his seed flooded from him to stain the counterpane.
Ben wasn’t finished with him yet, sweat slicking between his chest and Alex’s back as he chased his own finish. Alex was near collapse, unable to do anything other than accept everything Ben had to give. With a few more frantic thrusts, Ben seated himself inside Alex and spent. His growling groan of pleasure was muffled, his lips pressed against Alex’s shoulder as he spilled his seed.
Ben’s weight slowly eased off Alex, his softened cock slipping free. Collapsing at Alex’s side, Ben freed him to do the same, letting out a relieved breath as the last bit of tension left his limbs.
For a long while, only the rhythm of their breathing could be heard as they lay back to back, each absorbed in the aftermath of his own climax. Eventually, the mattress shifted and dipped as Ben turned onto his back. Alex followed suit, but a pang through his rear had him on his side facing Ben.
Running a hand over the fleece on his chest, Ben sighed, turning his head to look Alex in the eye. Alex found himself hypnotized by the sapphire depths, fringed in those spiky, pale lashes. Ben was softer just now, more at ease. Through the haze of exhaustion and ecstasy, Alex could imagine Ben as he had been at eighteen, twenty-one, twenty-five. The furrows in his brow hadn’t been so deep, and scorn didn’t show at the corners of his mouth. He smiled with genuine joy and not derision. He laughed with freedom instead of sarcasm.
His heart had not yet been broken.
They stared silently at one another, but before long Ben looked away, that ever-present frown pulling on his lips.
“Ben,” Alex ventured.
“Not tonight, Alex,” Ben whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m not stupid. I know you dragged me out of London so I would be forced to hear you out. But we just arrived, we are both exhausted and in no condition to start inviting the ghosts of the past to join us.”
Alex bit his lip, not wanting to admit that Ben had a point. He was tired, and barely had the strength required to rise and wash before falling face-first back into this bed. They would both think clearer after a few hours of indolence and a good night’s sleep.
“Even I like a reprieve from self-pity and anger from time to time,” Ben added. “I’ll give you my ear tomorrow, though I must warn you, it is only to end your ceaseless wailing. It won’t change my mind, so this will simply be an exercise in futility, but one that will allow you to ease your guilt.”
Alex laughed, shoulders quivering as he stared at Ben’s profile. “Why can’t you look at me while telling such outright lies?”
Ben snorted, but his eyelids remained lowered. “I’m only too exhausted to open my eyes right now. My God, why would you ever suggest something so ludicrous?”
Alex was trembling with laughter now, which he tried and failed to muffle with pinched lips. “Fine, Ben. Have it your way. I will ease my guilt and you will continue on uncaring and unfazed.”
“Quite right,” Ben d
rawled.
“We are agreed.”
“Indeed.”
“So, we will talk tomorrow?” Alex teased. By now, he was simply enjoying being a thorn in Ben’s side.
“Yes, tomorrow, as I’ve said already.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Alex chuckled as Ben heaved a sigh, turning his back on Alex and leaving the bed to go wash. Alex took his time following, still snorting and snickering at the ridiculousness of their conversation. They took turns at the washstand and then returned to the bed, clean and drowsy. Pushing aside the soiled counterpane, they flopped beside one another and promptly fell asleep within the cocoon of the lowered bed curtains.
When Benedict rose at dawn the next morning, Alex was still snoring into his pillow. He raced through his morning ablutions, then donned his worn trousers and favorite training shirt. Boots tightly laced, he made his way to the dining room within seconds before Fisher’s arrival. The man had a footman on his heels, the servant carrying a silver tray with a large ale mug perched on it. Benedict’s stomach quivered with dread as he was presented with his pugilists’ gruel—the revolting mixture of salt, water, and raw oats. However much he may hate it, Benedict had to admit its effects were noticeable, resulting in a more svelte form, and increasing his energy. More energy equaled faster reflexes, which was of the utmost importance for men fighting in the heavyweight class.
So, he choked the concoction down without complaint, hoping to convince Fisher to take it easy on him for the first day of training in weeks. He was not as fortunate as he had hoped.
Fisher was in rare form, insisting that Benedict had gotten slow and fat and needed to be whipped into shape. So Fisher had coaxed a groom from the stables as the first light of day sent orange tendrils into the blue void. With the groom driving him alongside Benedict, Fisher yelled obscenities and aspersions on Benedict’s speed. Meanwhile, Benedict ran along the uneven path, searching for the best places to plant his feet as he fought to remain abreast with Fisher’s wagon. He ran Benedict until the sun beat down on them, then pushed him through a gamut of training exercises for flexibility and strength. They returned to the house long enough for Benedict to be served a breakfast of ham, eggs, and soft, buttered bread. He devoured it with enthusiasm, chasing it with black coffee.
Chasing Benedict (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 5) Page 16