by H M Wolfe
''Thank you, Master.'' Warrick's breath started to hitch. ''I'm...not...worthy...to serve you, to...Oh, god,'' he let out a cry of pleasure, reacting to the Dom's hand sliding on his cock.
''That's right, pet. Let it out, unleash yourself. Tell me how much you like it.'' Ian encouraged him with a smile in his voice.
And so he did, bucking his hips, thrusting into Ian's fist. He sped up the pace until everything became too intense to bear, and his vision blurred. But the perfect submissive Warrick that was couldn't stand to disappoint his Dom. He couldn't fathom even the idea of it, so he steadied his breath, closed his eyes, and waited for permission to cum.
''Cum for me, sweet, little pet.'' Ian seductively whispered, his voice music to the younger man's ears. Just as soon as permission was given, he erupted, shooting creamy ropes all over his Master's hand. ''Yes, just like that. Look at all this cum, just for me. Aren't I the luckiest Dom in the world?''
''Yes, Master.'' Warrick's answer came in a breathy, barely audible voice. ''Thank you, sir, for all the good words, I'm the lucky one.''
''Hush, pet, let's get you nicely washed, dried, and dressed in some comfy pajamas; and to bed with you. Tomorrow is going to be another busy day at the office, and you need to be well-rested.''
''Thank you, Master. For everything you did for my family today.'' Warrick whispered as he looked into Ian's eyes, his head on the older man's chest.
''I take it, you talked to your brothers,'' the Dom's voice was satisfaction-filled, his eyes shining.
''No, and I don't think I'm going to any time soon,'' the answer came in a sad but firm voice. ''There are too many things left unspoken: too many misunderstandings, secrets, and betrayals. Unearthing them won't do any good. However, they changed their perception of father and Papa Sebastian, and that makes me very happy.''
''Really? Why didn't you tell me earlier? We would have celebrated the event.'' Ian ran his fingers through the sub's thick, chestnut hair. ''You used the word betrayal if I remember correctly,'' he gently spoke. ''Who betrayed whom?''
''I was betrayed by them, twice.'' Warrick sounded defeated. ''That fateful day, after the guests were gone. I wanted to disappear...forever, but I heard them giggling and decided to live for them. Little did I know that my brothers didn't care about me. All they wanted was to...”
''Yes, that explains a lot. Including your reaction at the club.'' Ian nodded in understanding. ''When was the other time your brothers betrayed you?''
''It was only Vin when he married that poisonous hydra.'' Warrick bitterly spat the last words. ''She convinced him to drop out college and become an associate in her father's construction company. She made him give up his lifelong dream of becoming an architect. I asked him to reconsider, pleaded, and begged, but he refused to listen.''
''They were Vinson's dreams. It was his right to give up on them. I don't understand why his decision affected you so much.'' Ian furrowed his brows in confusion.
''Yes, but it was my work, sweat, and sleepless nights that paid for all the sketch pads, special pencils, instruments, and books. We dreamed those dreams together, all three of us, and he just...'' Warrick stopped, unable to continue, his stare empty.
''Talk to them, pet, tell them what you feel, but also listen to their side of the story. Sometimes, some things get lost in translation, and the whole meaning of the book changes.''
''I'll do it, Master, but I still need time. Maybe now that they'll visit Father more and we'll spend more time together...I don't know...'' Warrick hesitated.
Ian decided to leave things as they were at that point, so he didn't insist. He just started petting his sub to sleep. There were so much sorrow and pain in his poor sub's life. Putting pressure on him at that moment would do more bad than good. Protectively wrapping an arm around the younger man, he started to think about the relationship the two of them had and where it was heading to.
One thing was sure; he would never abandon his sub, especially when he was in such distress. It would violate the moral code every Dom worthy of that name lived by. Suddenly, in the silence of the night, Ian realized something: the man sleeping next to him wasn't only his sub. He was Warrick, the man he loved.
It was still dark outside, but Joraan couldn't sleep anymore, and he was staring at the ceiling, hands folded under his head. The trademark, bright, tender smile was playing on his lips, as he was thinking about Vinson and Valeran bringing the children to visit them later that day, and about the joy, Vincent's heart filled with when his son called and told him about it.
The man went above and beyond, so the little ones would enjoy their first visit there. He'd purchased and installed a giant swing set in the backyard and turned one of the guest rooms in a child-friendly space. It was where they could play but also nap. Vincent had also bought a lot of fun children's games, as per Ian's advice.
Letting out a soft sigh, Joraan thought about the man who was providential for them, in so many ways. Not only that, he'd taken Warrick under his wing, offering him the care, attention, and affection the poor soul needed so much. But he'd also managed to convince the jury of the former Senator Mannion's guilt, and stopping his attempts to hurt Nicholas and his children.
At that point, Joraan shifted so that he could face the forty-two-year-old. He was a sight to behold, with his full, sexy, kissable lips slightly parted. That was an invitation for the redhead to claim them. And he took advantage of it, brushing his lips over that sensual mouth. He got an instant reaction from the half-asleep Nicholas when he did. The man instantly granted him access.
Joraan started to knead the younger man's ass, sliding him closer and eliciting sweet, little sounds of pleasure from the sub, much to his delight. The commotion woke up Sebastian and Vincent, who were sleeping in one another's arms. They parted, flanking the younger men. Gently at first, they touched Nicholas and Joraan all over, setting their bodies on fire.
Soon, the room was filled with the sweet, sounds of love, passion, and lust, as the two older men prepared their partners for the lovemaking ritual. Fingers spread their channels open and slicked them for penetration. Smirking, Sebastion and Vincent took their slow, sweet time entering the younger men. It drove them crazy with desire, each slow thrust bringing Nicholas and Joraan closer to their heaven.
Bringing one hand between them, Joraan started to stroke his younger lover's cock, his gesture imitated by Nicholas shortly after. Drinking their mouths dry, wildly pumping each other's cocks, and being taken by Sebastian and Vincent, the two of them couldn't take it any longer. They soon fell into the abyss of pure pleasure, their climaxes spreading between them. Their lovers quickly followed them, filling the men with their hot, creamy release.
In the peace and serenity following their orgasms, Nicholas and Joraan became the center of their partners' attention. The men showered them with gentle caresses and sweet kisses. It was Sebastian and Vincent's way of expressing their gratitude for the pleasure the two gave them, and for being a part of their life.
They smiled at each other, just four mature men with the hearts and innocence of teen boys who were in love for the first time. Except for Nicholas, they were all in their early fifties, but they didn't feel the weight of years on their shoulders. Young, wild and in love, Vincent thought, smirking as the sun started to rise, announcing the beginning of glorious days.
CHAPTER 8
''H
alf an hour until the kiddies' invasion.'' Nicholas took off his apron, a smile of satisfaction on his beautiful face at the sight of the pot and pans still simmering on the stove. ''I confess I'm a little nervous.'' He turned to Joraan. ''I hope Wilmot and Marinette will like the food.''
''Oh, come on.'' The redhead patted him on the shoulder. ''What's not to like about it? All the good, tasty veggies in that pesto soup, and then the roasted chicken with that delicious side dish of peas and baby carrot sticks, plus the steamed broccoli with that lemon and olive oil dressing as a salad...I bet the little ones will be thrilled with it!''
''If you say so, Mas...Joraan, sorry.'' Nicholas lowered his head, blushing violently. ''I keep forgetting I shouldn't call you that in front of Vinson's children.''
''Don't worry. You'll remember at the right time,'' the redhead said reassuringly, ''and even if you don't, we can say it's a pet name between the four of us. Just like calling them prince or princess.''
''Are you talking about Wilmot and Marinette? Because they are going to be the only royalties around here. That is unless Margot, Salome, and Sophia also decide to join the party.'' Vincent stepped into the kitchen, a massive grin on his face.
''Oh, no, poor Wilmot.'' Sebastian appeared from behind his lover, speaking in a deep, sexy voice. ''You do realize the delicate situation that poor boy will end up in, surrounded by three irresistible little ladies?''
In a blink of an eye, all the weight on Nicholas's shoulders was gone. And the kitchen filled with the sound of the four men's sincere, wholehearted laughter, as they waited for Vinson and Valeran's arrival to bring the kids. A new generation, the hope for a bright future, Nicholas thought, anticipating the moment when Mattias and Armina would make him a grandfather, too.
Meanwhile, Vincent's sons were as nervous as they could be, getting the kids ready for their first informal visit at their grandfather's. Over the past few weeks, they'd come to know the four men's hearts and weren't afraid that they would make any comparisons between Daniel and Tarquin's children, on the one hand, and Marinette and Wilmot, on the other hand.
Still, they were worried about a lot of things, including the possibility that Vinson's kids wouldn't enjoy their stay at Vincent's. Since their mother had left, they preferred each other's company rather than engaging in group activities. Their father thought the situation would be the same with the adults, especially the older ones, as Vincent and his partners were.
''I still don't think it's a good idea,'' Vinson whispered to Valeran, as they were heading to the Grant residence. ''But I'm doing this for Warrick. You saw the smile on his face when we promised we'd take the kids over to father. We don't get one of those every day, so...''
''Relax,'' Valeran lightly ran his flat palm up and down his brother's thigh, ''your children are heartthrobs. Just like their dad, no one can resist their charms. And yes, you are right about Warrick, I haven't seen him this happy in quite a long time.''
''Oh, I don't doubt all the men in that house will pamper the hell out of those kids. They'll be trying to win their trust and affection. I'm worried that they will be disappointed once their attempts are rejected.''
''Again, relax and think about Ian. If Wilmot and Marinette can become fond of that stern, career-obsessed man, why wouldn't they do the same with father, Mister Bloom and the others?''
''Yes, I guess you are right.'' Vinson let out a long, heavy sigh. ''What will be, will be. What can go wrong? Worst-case scenario, the kids will push them aside, and they won't insist on bringing them there another time.''
''Here you are!'' Vincent greeted them, half an hour later, hurrying to help Valeran to get Marinette from her car seat. Sebastian was right behind him. ''Hello, princess. What a beautiful girl you are! Nice to meet you, sweetheart!''
''Are you my granddad? Because you don't look like one.'' the little girl examined the man with a critical eye. ''Are you a friend of Uncle Ian's? He also calls me princess and bows before me.'' She flashed him a grin, showing all her teeth.
''Sebastian Bloom, at your service.'' The sapphire-blue-eyed man bowed his head, a stern expression on his face. ''The gentleman holding you is your Granddad, Vincent. And these, Your Highness, are your loyal subjects Joraan and Nicholas.'' he pointed to the younger men, who'd gone to the other side of the car to greet Wilmot.
''Welcome to our humble home, little prince.'' Joraan took the nine-year-old in his arms, hugging him warmly.
''Thank you, sir.'' The answer came in a polite, little voice. ''Are you, my grandfather, too?'' he asked, studying the man with unmasked curiosity.
Deep in his little heart, Wilmot was thirsty for that special affection only grandparents can offer. Mister Hoskins, as his mother's father insisted on being called by his son-in-law and grandchildren, had always treated the three of them with contempt. He shooed the little ones away and called Vinson, the poor boy, in a non-affectionate manner.
As for Maeve, her son's wife forbade the woman from visiting the children the day following Marinette's first birthday party. Once Isobel walked away, leaving the little ones in their father's care, she reprised her visits. But the love shown from both parties was awkward more often than not, and communication was almost nonexistent.
His thin arms wrapped around Joraan's neck, Wilmot was waiting for his answer. It soon came in a smooth, gentle voice. ''Yes, my prince. If that's what you want, however, we'll have to ask your father first.''
''Daddy, please. Can this kind gentleman be my granddad, too? He seems so good, speaks in a nice voice, and doesn't frown, either. Please, I promise to...''
''If he agrees to it, I don't see why not.'' Vinson cut his son short, his eyes shining with unshed tears. ''Did you asked the others? Maybe they want to be your granddads, too.'' He winked, gesturing to Sebastian and Nicholas.
''No!'' Marinette replied in a surprisingly firm voice for a five-year-old. ''They are my loyal subjects, I won't allow it.''
''We can be your loyal subjects and Wilmot's granddads at the same time.'' The younger of the two men spoke. ''How about that? It would make your brother very happy.'' He threw his final argument into the balance.
Marinette didn't say a word; she just solemnly nodded, then extended her little arms in Joraan's direction. He quickly got the message, stepping as close as he could. The little girl wrapped her arms around Wilmot's neck, planting a sticky kiss on his cheek. She then started to giggle, in cascades, much to the men's delight.
''Well, boys, since their Highnesses here agreed on sharing their loyal subjects, you are no longer needed.'' Vincent gestured to Vinson's car. ''You have places to go and things to do. That restaurant reservation won't wait forever.''
''I can't believe this man.'' Vinson shook his head, feigning shock. ''Now, that he has the kids, he doesn't even know who we are.''
''Of course, he does.'' Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly. ''You are two young men who need to spend some quality time in each other's company. And that's what you are going to do. The little ones will soon be enjoying their meal, and after that, they'll be busy exploring their surroundings and doing whatever they want to.''
''OK, father. Thanks a lot for agreeing to babysit. And you're right; we have to go. You have mine and Vale's numbers, call us in case something...''
''Everything will be just fine. Now go,'' Vincent shooed his sons to the car, ''otherwise, you'll never be on time.''
''Masters, you have to come and see this!'' Nicholas came running from the house, a big, radiant smile on his face.
''What is it, pet,'' Vincent spoke smoothly, catching the younger man from behind. ''Who's responsible for that joyous look in your beautiful eyes?''
''Can I have seconds, please? It was delicious.'' Wilmot's voice made the little group stop in the kitchen's doorway.
''”Of course, my little prince,'' Joraan's tender voice answered. ''What about you, princess?'' he turned to Marinette, whose plate was also empty.
''Yes, please.'' The answer came in a melodious voice. ''The broccoli salad is de-lish-ous,'' the little girl gave the redhead two thumbs up.
''We never did have something this tasty at home.'' Wilmot started to talk again, between two bites of his chicken. ''Mom didn't like to cook, and dad doesn't have time. Uncle Vale tries hard, though.'' His little face, sad until then, brightened.
''Not enough, his porridge tastes hoooo-rri-ble!'' His sister intervened, grimacing. ''But his pudding is tasty.''
''Well, you'd be surprised to find out how many kitchen disasters happened before I managed to cook a decent omelet.'' Vincent plopped down on a chair, an amused expre
ssion on his face. ''Your Uncle Vale must have taken after me. He's my son, after all.''
Wilmot didn't say anything, just nodded, and continued to eat the homemade food. That food had been cooked with passion and love by two men he'd never met until then, and who weren't related to them by blood. Despite this, both of them were fussing over him and Marinette, as if they were royals who'd come to visit.
The young boy had heard his father and uncle say that the man with the gentle voice and kind eyes was their father, and was incredibly prosperous. He had wondered if his fortune was more considerable than Mister Hoskins's. Wilmot wished it was, and he wanted to go to his other grandfather and say it to the mean old man's face. He would also tell his mother's father how much love Vincent and the others were giving him and Marinette.