The Mysterious and Amazing Blue Billings

by Lily Morton

For a long second, I stare at him. His soft eyes and that long body stretched out on the bed, his olive skin a contrast to the white sheets. “But you will pound me at some point?” I say dubiously.

  He chuckles as he gives my body a slow onceover. “I promise.” The sudden heat in his gaze makes me squirm. “Roll over on your front, Blue,” he murmurs. “Let me see that arse of yours.”

  I roll slowly over, giving him a show and revelling in the low groan he can’t hide. I wriggle into position, resting my head on my folded arms so I can look at him, and then slowly spread my legs.

  His eyes darken even more, and he runs one hand down my back. His fingers are soft, as befitting an artist, and they trace the muscles of my back. I shudder as his fingers glance over a ticklish spot, and the feeling seems to echo in my balls as I giggle and writhe.

  “You like that?” he whispers. He smiles as his fingers return to my back, taking a different route this time and seeming to spread heat wherever they go. I wriggle and groan, and I wonder if my back is lit up under the skin, fairy lights twinkling and tracing the different paths his fingers are taking.

  He doesn’t go straight for my hole or my bum as other men have done. Instead, he touches me slowly and gently, tracing those invisible tracks. His fingers swoop lower every time he makes a circle, and I find myself holding my breath as they perform a lazy figure of eight over the skin just above my buttocks. I spread my legs further, trying to tempt him and not even minding the chuckle he gives as he goes back to tracing my shoulder blades.

  “Teasing bastard,” I mumble. I’m nearly drooling.

  He smiles, and I close my eyes as his fingers glide smoothly down and this time they skim over my buttocks, making me tremble. They slide lower and brush so gently against my balls that I wonder if I’ve imagined it. Then up his fingers go again, but this time when they come down, he traces a long finger down the crack of my arse and strokes my balls with a firmer touch.

  “Oh shit,” I gasp, grabbing handfuls of the sheet under me and writhing at the teasing movement. It’s almost like I’m lying in the sea letting the tide slowly run over me.

  Levi carries on like this with gentle gropes and lazy caresses until I feel his lips touch my back. He kisses my shoulder blades, deviating up to press a kiss into my neck where he buries his face and inhales as if he’s taking my scent in. It tickles my ears and neck, and I push my hips down into the mattress, the sheets abrading my cock.

  His hand stretches down, and he traces his finger up and down my taint while pressing more kisses down my back. Each one feels like fire against my skin, and I moan and pant, lost to everything but his talented hand.

  He’s hard against my hip, the tip of his cock painting a wet stripe, and I sniff, trying to get the scent of him in my nose. I press against his groin with my hip and his breath stutters as he presses back, starting to slide his cock against me.

  Then there’s only cold air as he sits up and moves behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I say blearily, swallowing the extra saliva in my mouth before I dribble.

  “Tasting,” he mutters and before I can say anything, he pushes his face into me and I feel the swipe of his tongue over the wrinkled skin at my opening.

  “Oh my God,” I shout way too loudly. “What the fuck, Levi?”

  When I look back at him, he raises his head, his eyes going very dark, his lips full and red. “I’m going to rim you,” he says hoarsely. “Any objections?”

  “None that a sane person would make.” He hovers, and I stick my arse out. “Come on,” I plead. “Do it, Levi.”

  He bends down and the rough surface of his cast catches my skin. It’s a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue when he slides it along my taint, and it seems to make the pleasure deeper.

  “Oh fuck,” I manage to get out, burying my hot face in the cool pillow. “Oh fuck, that’s so good.”

  “Just wait,” he promises. “This is just the beginning.”

  “I’ve never …” I begin before coming to a stop, not wanting to bring up my past and the fact that punters don’t rim.

  He kisses my right arse cheek. “I know,” he says quietly. “I know, Blue.”

  He bends back to his task without saying another word, and I give way to the feeling of his tongue as he licks me from balls to hole before stiffening his tongue and prodding it against the opening. Then he pulls back and suckles the skin around it. Just those two movements repeated endlessly until my hole is looser and I have to push him off and grab the base of my dick to stop myself from coming.

  I stay there, arse in the air, the cold air striking my hole and making the pleasure running through me even more intense.

  “Oh God,” I finally say. “That’s the best thing ever.”

  He chuckles and kisses my hole again, bathing it in wet and getting it lovely and sloppy.

  “I need the lube,” he says softly. “Wait there a minute.”

  I turn my face on the pillow, watching him move away. His arse is paler than the rest of his body. High and tight and nicely rounded. I press my cock into the mattress and pull back with a gasp, feeling the tell-tale tingle in my balls.

  He leans against the bathroom door, watching me as he opens a box of condoms. His colour is high, his eyes dark, and his hair sticks up. I lick my lips. He’s so gorgeous to me.

  “Come here, Levi,” I whisper.

  A shiver runs down his body. It gives me a sudden rush of power that I can affect him like that. With the rush, comes a feeling of tenderness and protectiveness that warns me not to abuse my power.

  I swallow as he moves towards me, the muscles in his body bunching and releasing. He settles on the bed, sitting next to me, and cups one arse cheek possessively.

  “Mine,” he says hoarsely.

  I manage a smile with far too much teeth. I try to give my shrug a careless air. “If you want it.”

  He squeezes the cheek. “I do,” he says solemnly, and I swallow hard. He hands me the condom and lube. “You’ll have to put the condom on. If I try to do it with one hand, we’ll likely be here all night.”

  “Well, we can’t have that,” I say huskily, hearing the click in his throat as he swallows hard. I tear open the wrapper, and as slowly and torturously as I can manage, I slide it on, accompanied by a great deal of gratuitous fondling. The catch in his breathing and the soft groans he can’t hold back are my reward. I grin up at him and he shakes his head, his eyes dancing with humour.

  “Lube now, you little minx. Pour some onto my hand,” he directs. “I’m likely to squeeze out the whole bloody bottle with my left hand, otherwise.”

  I do as I’m told, watching him rub it between his fingers, and then I bury my head in the pillow and shout out as his middle finger presses against my entrance. He circles it gently, making it slippery before sliding the tip into me.

  “Oh shit,” I whisper, feeling the familiar burn.

  He looks up. “Relax,” he directs, and there’s a sudden element of control in his voice. “Let me in, sweetie.” He smiles although it obviously takes effort. His chest is damp with sweat. “I’ll stop now,” he says steadily. “Any time you want it to stop, you tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “That’s not fair,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “There’s no such thing as not fair in sex, Blue. It isn’t about keeping score and it certainly isn’t something you have to do to make me happy. I’m happy with you anyway.”

  I study his earnest face intently, and something inside me that’s been buried so deep, a hard kernel that warns me people can’t be trusted and will hurt me, relaxes its grip and lets warmth through.

  “I trust you,” I say softly. “I want you to do it.”

  His expression softens—he’s glad. He taps his finger against my hole. “Breathe out and relax,” he instructs me.

  I do as he says and his finger finally slides in. I inhale sharply, because it’s been a while since I did this, and it feels awkward. Then he crooks his finger gen
tly, like he’s summoning something. He brushes my insides, and fireworks go off behind my eyes.

  “Oh fuck,” I shout very loudly.

  He kisses my back, rubbing his face against my skin as if coating himself in my sweat. It’s unbelievably erotic combined with that stealthy finger movement.

  I pant and writhe as he brushes the spot again and then cry out in protest as he removes the finger. But he simply holds out his hand for more lube, and when he returns to my arse, it’s with two fingers this time. He plays there for a while, stroking and stretching me until I’m a panting, sodden mess. It feels like he’s jerking me off from the inside, and I push my hips into the bed and grunt.

  His gaze is heavy and intent on me, breaths coming hard from his slightly open mouth.

  “I want you to fuck me, Levi,” I say clearly. “I need it.”

  And even as I say that, I know I’ve never felt it before like this. I’ve never needed sex. It’s always been the other bloke feeling desperate, but now it’s like I’ll explode if he doesn’t get his cock inside me.

  He pulls his fingers out, and I give a disappointed whine, but he lays on his back and grabs the base of his dick, holding it up.

  “Climb on,” he says, his smile is almost pained. “I can’t use one arm, so you can ride me instead. Makes it easier.”

  I narrow my eyes, because I bloody well know that the only person he’s trying to make this easier for is me. “And next time you’ll be on top?” I clarify.

  He grins, a sudden flash of white in a wide, warm smile. “Every day if you want it,” he promises. He slaps my hip gently. “Come on, Blue.”

  I sit, sling my leg over him, and take hold of his cock. I cup both of our dicks in my hand and rub. It’s intended to show him who the boss is now but it backfires slightly because even as he arches and cries out, I have to back away to stop myself from coming.

  “Bloody hell, I’m so close,” I say hoarsely.

  Even now it’s hard to believe it’s me with my cock throbbing, desperate to get a man’s knob in me. But it is, and I revel in it. I scoot until his cock is knocking against my backside, and then I rise up, and, steadying his dick, I sink down until the head is against my entrance. I rub against it, feeling it stir the nerves in my passage. I take a deep breath and slowly lower myself onto it.

  It isn’t easy despite how open I am, but he lies still, letting me edge down his cock, the only sign of his agitation the fist he clenches with his good hand in the bed linen underneath him. Finally, I sit fully on his dick, feeling his wiry pubes against my arse and the length of his cock hard and throbbing inside me.

  “Alright?” he asks in a stuttered voice, sucking in a breath as I move experimentally.

  I bite my lip and throw my head back, letting out a deep groan as his cock brushes my prostate. I’m drawn into a trance-like state as I lift up and sit down again. I go slowly at first, crying out as he rubs me just right, and then faster until I’m bouncing on his dick. I let out short cries as he helps me lift and lower, one hand holding my arse tight enough to leave bruises.

  His dick pistons into me, the slap of flesh and the low groans of two men fucking echoing around the room. I want to spin it out and tease him, but I can’t, and my balls tighten.

  “Oh God, I’m so close,” I mutter. “Touch me. Ungh!” I cry out as he grabs my cock in his fist, and I shuttle through it a couple of times before come bursts from my dick in three long spurts, painting his stomach and chest with spunk.

  “Blue!” he shouts. He lifts his hips, battering into my arse for a couple more thrusts before he arches his back and groans. Heat blooms inside me, and for a wild moment I wish he was bare and I could feel his come in me. I’ve never had that before, never even considered it, but tonight the thought is enough to make me spurt another tiny amount of come.

  I fall down onto him. “Christ,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve never…”

  “No,” he mutters, drawing me close. I bury my head in his chest and he kisses my forehead and chuckles. “You now have come in your hair,” he informs me.

  I sniff. “I’m surprised it’s not on the ceiling. I’ve never come like that before.”

  Levi stares at me, and I feel a little embarrassed. He’s probably had that loads. He was in a five-year relationship. The irony is that I’ve more than likely had many more men than him, but in this bed with him I was almost a virgin. For a second I wish passionately that I had been. That I had come to him clean, and not dented and battered by all the years I gave this away in return for bed and money.

  “Hey,” Levi says softly. “Me neither,” he says very clearly, holding my gaze. “It’s never been like that for me before.”

  “Really? Wasn’t Mason any good?” I say happily. I usually avoid thinking about them in bed together, but this revelation is very cheering.

  “It was good, don’t get me wrong. I was always very happy with the sex, but now I know it was lacking something because apparently there’s another level that nobody told me about.”

  I try to ignore the warmth in my stomach and settle for humour. “Were you missing the stage of getting spunk in your partner’s hair? Because babe, it feels like I’ve got a natural hair gel in there.”

  He chuckles and, grabbing the base of the condom, he levers me up slightly and pulls out. I grunt at the unpleasant feeling and he reaches down with his good hand and pets my hole, massaging it gently.

  When he pulls me back down to him, I protest. “I’m covered in come.”

  He laughs. “So am I. What does it matter?”

  “It’ll matter when we can wallpaper a wall with what’s sticking us together.”

  Despite that, I don’t move away from him. He pulls the covers up around us, and I snuggle in.

  “Lie here with me a bit, Blue,” he whispers. “We’ve still got time.”

  Chapter 16

  Levi

  While we wait for our guide outside the pub as we were told to, I sneak a glance at Blue. He’s looking contemplatively down the road, and I can’t work out whether he’s seen someone alive or dead. His expression is tranquil, but those pale eyes of his are full of thoughts. And plotting, I think with some amusement. Always plotting.

  He stirs, and I immediately focus on the pub sign. I shift position, feeling the slight ache in my leg muscles from the sex earlier. Heat rushes through me, and I can feel it staining my cheeks. Images of sex flick through my head. Blue’s slumberous eyes, the way he lay spread across the bed, all that creamy skin on display and my fingers stuffed in his arse, and later the feel of my cock disappearing into his tiny hole.

  I lick my lips, imagining I can taste him even though I know I can’t. He’d tasted almost sweet. I have a sudden flashing image of his face when he’d come. Surprise and abandonment to the pleasure had been written all over him, and I swallow when I recall the feel of his come hot on my hand and coating my fingers.

  I bite my lip and try to think of other things, but I can’t. He’s all I can think of. I’ve never had sex like that before. I feel almost guilty towards Mason for thinking it, but it’s the truth. I was with him for five years, and, although I enjoyed sex, it had never felt as consuming as it did today.

  Consuming. I roll the word in my mouth. It fits what I’d experienced with Blue in that bed. I’d felt almost burned alive, my only focus him and his scent of peaches. Having his come on my hands and his spit in my mouth felt like the single hottest thing I’ve ever done.

  I look up to find Blue watching me. Those wolf eyes of his are peculiarly intent, and I swallow. They’re filled with the same heat I know he can read in mine. We watch each other warily until he moves closer to me.

  He opens his mouth to say something, but at that second we hear a loud and very posh voice say, “Hello.”

  I turn and see a tall man standing in front of us attired top to toe in Victorian dress. He’s thin with a long hooked nose and a rather wild-looking mop of black hair, but he has a wide and happy smile
on his face.

  “Good evening, folks,” he says in his rich voice. “Ready for some tales of foul murder tonight? Led by me, your estimable host, Julian Prince.”

  I want to smile when I see Blue staring at the man with a great deal of admiration in his eyes. I shake my head instead, and then I’m jerked round with the force of Blue’s grasp as he propels me down the road after our guide.

  The Ripper tour is fascinating, despite the fact that most of the murder sites are long gone now, lost to the encroach of time and housing and the bombing during the war. Still, Julian’s voice is rich and he certainly knows his stuff. The group follow him eagerly, but none are more rapt than Blue, and the vast majority of my enjoyment is coming from watching him watch the other man. They’re obviously soul mates if we count a flair for the dramatic and a love of a good story.

  Eventually, the tour winds down, and he allows questions as we stand in the murky gloom of a streetlight. The usual questions are asked about injuries and who he thinks the Ripper really was, and he fields them with aplomb. Whether he’s right, I have no idea because I know next to nothing about the Ripper. My attention drifts slightly to the way the breeze is lifting the silky strands of Blue’s hair and how the light hits his face, turning the dips and hollows mysterious and beautiful.

  When Julian’s voice turns slightly anxious, I drag my attention back. He’s listening to a young man who’s standing at the front of the group. I noticed him earlier because he seemed to have a permanent sneer on his face, making jokey asides to his friend which set the mood of the group slightly against him. You could sense it like a slight change in the wind direction as people stood a little apart from him, disassociating themselves from him. By the last murder site, even his friend had stepped away.

  “I don’t know why you won’t say it,” the young man says insistently. Blue glares at him. “You made yourself look a right tit over that book.”

  “I’m thrilled that you read it,” Julian says smoothly, but there’s an edge to his voice, and he looks rather sad. “But let’s not dwell on that. It was rather an unpleasant time for me.”