A Suitable Replacement (Deceived)

by Megan Derr

  The release struck him like a blow, and he muffled his scream in his arm, trembling hard as he spilled. He whimpered as the fingers withdrew and he was pulled up and back to sit in Kelcey's lap, back pressed to his chest, warm fingers trailing lazily over his skin and soft lips nibbling at the side of his throat. "You are rather wicked yourself, sir."

  "Only a result of your wickedness, I assure," Kelcey said, teeth biting more firmly, making Max shiver as he worked diligently to bring up a mark that would last for days. "No riding crops for you, my lord?"

  It should not have been so thrilling, the way Kelcey kept calling him 'my lord'. Normally that would irritate Max beyond all reason. Instead, he rather wished Kelcey was taunting him with it while pinning him to the bed and fucking him senseless. "Uh. What was the question?"

  Kelcey laughed, breaths hot against Max's neck, body vibrating against him, fingers twitching where his hand rested on Max's thigh. "No riding crop for you?"

  "Um. No. They were not to my taste. I told you, Mavin is far more adventurous. My adventuring ends with misappropriation of cravats and artificial phalluses."

  He had no idea how to describe the noise that Kelcey made then, but it made Max grin. Twisting away, turning around, he pushed Kelcey to the floor and climbed atop him. "I take it you do not disapprove, sir."

  "I think we shall have to go shopping again," Kelcey replied, pulling him down to suck and nibble at Max's bruised lips, licking them when Max gave a low whine.

  "After you fuck me," Max said, grinding back against the cock he could feel already hardening again, his own making a valiant effort.

  Kelcey gave him another one of those slow-burning smiles, dragged his fingers down Max's body, one dipping low and back to shove two fingers into him. Max moaned, braced his hands on Kelcey's chest, shifting to give him better access. "You are going to kill me."

  "Why would I kill you? It's much more fun to fuck you almost to death, so I can do it again and again. You open so easily, it's intoxicating. I bet you're beautiful stretched around one of your faux phalluses."

  "Stop—talking," Max groaned, closing his eyes because watching Kelcey's face as he fucked Max with his fingers was too much.

  He whimpered when the fingers withdrew, cried out when Kelcey's cock almost immediately replaced them, pushing up into him slowly, but firmly, as though Kelcey was determined to stake a claim. Max was more than happy to let him. His nails bit into Kelcey's chest as he took the rest of it, huge and hot and the most he'd endured for more months than he cared to count. His last lover had been a woman with an impressive collection of sexual items that she loved to use on him, but even her largest phallus had not felt as big as Kelcey.

  Whatever challenges accompanied an abrupt, treasonous elopement, it certainly had its compensations.

  Kelcey grabbed his hips, began to move Max up and down on his cock, lifting him up high and shoving him back down as Kelcey thrust up. Max tried to help, move on his own power more, but it was so much more fun to let Kelcey control him, use him, fuck up into him, drive every thought from his head and fill it with pleasure instead.

  He snarled when Kelcey pulled out, but before he could start in with the threats, Kelcey turned him around and put him back on his knees, spread him open, and shoved back inside. Max screamed, fingers digging into the rug as he struggled to brace himself while Kelcey plowed into him. Kelcey's fingers were so tight where they gripped Max's hips that Max happily anticipated finding bruises in the morning.

  He came so hard it almost hurt, left his vision grayed out for a time and his lungs struggling to remember how to work. When he finally calmed, the rug was making his chest itch, and he had a large, sweaty form pressed to his back, a slowly softening cock still inside him.

  Kelcey groaned in his ear, shifted to get his arms around Max, and moved until they lay on their sides. He whined slightly when his cock finally slipped free of Max's body. "You are a distraction."

  "You are not exactly good for my focus either," Max replied. "I want off this floor. Take me to bed." Giving a quiet snort, Kelcey obeyed, disentangling himself and standing up before pulling Max to his feet—then sweeping him up and carrying him across the room. He dropped Max down on the neatly made bed, then climbed over him to settle on the other side, pulling the blankets free and then up over them. Kelcey dragged Max in close, wrapping an arm around him and resting his head lightly atop Max's. "Thank you."

  "I like to keep my husband happy," Kelcey replied, nuzzling against him.

  The words should be alarming. At least a stern reminder of why they were married, why Max should not forget that. He preferred to ignore everything a little while longer, enjoy himself for a brief time. It was something he had not done in a very long time, and he deserved it. "You are doing well so far, though if you really want to ensure my happiness you will make a habit of such activities."

  "Yes, my lord," Kelcey replied, voice low, a bit rough, making Max shiver as he settled in to sleep, anticipation curling through him at what might happen when he woke.

  Chapter Seven

  "Why are you being coy as to where we are going?" Kelcey asked.

  "What part of 'surprise' are you having trouble comprehending, sir?" Max asked with a soft huff, giving him a look. "For a man whose job must rely on patience, you are certainly lacking in it."

  An expression flickered across Kelcey's face that Max could not mark before it was gone, but he definitely recognized the brooding look that settled in its place. "I'm not accustomed to positive surprises," Kelcey finally said, managing a small smile. "I guess they make me anxious."

  Max frowned, moved closer to him as they walked along the street, and tucked his hand into Kelcey's elbow. "Well, the point of this is not to make you anxious. There is no fun in that at all. We are going to the local history museum. Not quite as impressive as the royal museums, but still a reputable one."

  "Has any of your work made it into a museum?"

  Coming to a halt, Max reached up and kissed his cheek, feeling quite warm despite the brisk sea air. Drawing back, they resumed walking.

  "What was that for?" Kelcey asked, smiling.

  Max gave a half shrug. "No one has ever asked that before. I do not think anyone outside my groups of like-minded scientists takes my work seriously. Those that do respect my work know it's not really the sort that gets displayed in museums. Although …" He tried not to feel excited about the idea, but it was something he and the others on the expedition had discussed countless times sitting around a campfire or gathered in the main tent. "When the lectures and further studies and such are complete, it's possible some of the items we dug up on my expedition could make their way to the public museums. Most of the time anything close to the Goblin Wars winds up in private exhibits, if not buried in warehouses and vaults, but some of the items might escape that fate. It's hard to say for certain. But if they do, my name should be on a placard somewhere." He smiled wryly. "Probably a very small one."

  "I'm certain one day it will be a very large one." Kelcey grinned. "You're smart enough to deserve it, anyway, but I sense Mavin will see it done or remove many heads."

  "I am fairly certain she is banned from the science halls of our old school for getting into shouting matches with various professors," Max replied, rolling his eyes. "It was after I had been dismissed from a class for arguing with a professor myself, after he called me a crackpot and an embarrassment to my family name, and I should count myself lucky it was no longer acceptable practice to burn witches."

  "That is not the way a teacher should behave."

  "Thankfully he was an exception rather than a rule." Max made a face. "That being said, I was happy to see the end of those days and move on to pursuing my private studies. Being a spoiled brat, I never had to worry about funding quite the way many of my peers did, which is another reason many of them have always resented me."

  "One would think they'd attempt to forge a friendship that would make you free with funds."

 
Max shrugged again. "You'll have to ask them why they did not go that route." He gestured sharply with his free hand. "My studies are not the point of this outing, sir. This is the point." He stopped them in front of an enormous limestone building, the stones rough with age, all the windows framed by bright red shutters. A banner hanging between two of the columns in front of the doorway proclaimed it to be a museum of local history.

  A small group came out of the building, laughing and talking, nodding politely to Max and Kelcey as they bustling past. "This one is locally sponsored," Max said. "Fortunate for us, hmm? I do not think the crown would be amused by either of us being on royal grounds right now."

  "You don't say," Kelcey said with a soft, snorting laugh.

  Max let go of his arm as they stepped inside the cool, dark building. There was a small reception desk to one side but nobody at it. A wooden sign affixed to the front of it bid visitors to venture forth as they liked. "I've not been in a museum in some years. Most of that is due to being out of the country, of course, but even before that I was too busy."

  "What did you do before you left? I swear I never encountered you or Lady Mavin before she helped me at the Chesterton party. Granted I am not of your set, but I found my way into many of the events anyway. I would have thought I'd have seen you at least once."

  Max waited to reply until they were were through the grand archway at the back of the entryway and in the first room of exhibits. The whole place was cool, somewhat dark, the sconces scattered about to light up the exhibits only barely managing to do so. "Our parents died about six years ago. Mav was tied up with taking over the estates, resolving problems my father had let fester. She was also mired in getting rid of a former paramour who proved to be quite despicable and, in the end, dangerous. When I was not helping her with that, I was hiding from everything else by focusing on my experiments, or picking fights with my peers, pushing through papers. I heard about the expedition and poured all of my energy into that. I am fairly certain it was my overzealous working habits that won me a spot as much as my knowledge in the field. By the time I heard of my acceptance, everything had started to calm down again." He shook his head. "I really should have known that would not last."

  Kelcey shared the grin Max offered him. "I do wonder why you left her unsupervised."

  "The decision was a dubious one, I agree, but …" He glanced away, stared at the exhibit in front of them without really seeing it. "It's proved to have its merits."

  Kelcey did not voice a reply, but his hand pressed briefly against the small of Max's back. "So what are we looking at here?"

  "A sword," Max drawled. "I would have thought you familiar."

  "Don't be a brat." Kelcey tugged sharply on a loose strand of his hair. "What makes this sword so special? I can't read the placard because you're in the way."

  "Supposedly it belonged to the woman who founded the city, once upon a long ago time. Lady Cynthia Amora."

  "The Lady Without Fear," Kelcey said, practically thrumming with excitement, as though holding still had abruptly become a difficult thing to do. Max had never seen him so, save when he spoke of that book and play he loved so much.

  It was cute; there was no other way to describe it. "Just so. You're familiar, I see."

  "I read about her in school when I was a boy, and was completely captivated by her story. Told my mother all about it, and how I wanted to know more. She seemed pleased by my interest." His mouth twisted. "Embraced me and everything." He glanced at Max, then back at the sword. "My parents were always busy, and even when they had free time they generally did not spend it with me. In retrospect, it's obvious they were busy with their rebellion." He shrugged. "At the time, I was just happy for anything that drew their attention. I learned everything I could about The Lady Without Fear, reported it all back faithfully, studied her as much as a child could. By the time I was the grand old age of ten, I had declared myself an expert." A half-smile curved his mouth. "My mother had long-since stopped caring, and of course the harder you study anything the more the shine comes off and many ugly truths out—but I still loved Lady Cynthia fiercely. She's still my favorite historical figure." The smile slipped away again. "At ten years of age I was quite determined I would go to all the fancy schools like the boy down the street, and become a professor who knew everything about Lady Cynthia and her city, and lots more history as well."

  He finally turned and looked at Max. "Not long before my eleventh birthday, all of those dreams were quite neatly dashed, of course. Not that my family would ever have had the money to send me to university, even assuming they'd have wanted to."

  Max tilted his head, regarded Kelcey pensively. "Why not go to school now? Well, when we are allowed to return home, or at least settle in one place long enough."

  "I'm a little too old to sit around classrooms blathering about dead people," Kelcey said, stepping away from the exhibit, head down. "Nevermind the cost involved."

  Max snagged the sleeve of his jacket, pulled hard, then got a firmer grip on his arm and made Kelcey turn to face him. He jabbed a finger into Kelcey's chest. "Excuses, sir. You said yourself that a benefit to this marriage was the money. Use it to do something you want—that seems perfectly fair to me." When Kelcey just scowled and opened his mouth to argue, Max jabbed him again and added, "I think after last night it is obvious I like it when you use me."

  Kelcey's words turned into a peculiar choking sound that turned into a coughing fit that had him bending over with his struggle to breathe properly again.

  When he was certain Kelcey would not actually expire, Max snickered and headed for the next exhibit.

  He was reading about a battle he vaguely recalled from his school days when Kelcey wrapped around him from behind, settling so heavy against Max's back that it forced him to bend. "Oof, sir."

  "You're incorrigible."

  "Yes, I believe that has been well-established." Max turned as Kelcey drew back. He studied his carefully shuttered face, having a pretty good idea of the want and indecision simmering just beneath the surface. If Kelcey had married Mavin, would he have done it? Better not to push it. "What say we stop making this museum tour such a serious affair? It was meant to be a pleasant surprise for you, a lark before we are stuck on that damned ship. I'll convince you about other matters later, over dinner."

  Kelcey smiled faintly, and held out his hand. "We'll see."

  Max took it, and they wandered the museum that way through the remainder of the morning and the majority of the afternoon.

  Getting Kelcey to talk, to ramble at length about a million bits of history that Max had never even suspected he knew, proved to be easy. He was not Max, who preferred solitude. Hopefully someday he would be able to attend all the events he wanted, not be allowed to relax and enjoy them properly.

  Listening to him talk at length about a topic he so obviously adored was something Max could happily do forever, and not simply because Kelcey had a pleasant voice. The man who seemed to know something about everything in the museum was nothing like the generally quiet, but prone to loud outbursts, figure he had first met and probably knew better. Certainly different from the filthy-minded, dirty-mouthed hellion he was coming to know in bed. Taken together, they made Kelcey irresistible. Not that Max had ever worked terribly hard at resisting.

  If only they had been able to meet in a proper fashion, perhaps enjoyed a real engagement. If he had not gone on that expedition, would they have met and grown close? Not that he was sorry he had gone, but he did wonder if perhaps this all could have happened in less of a frenzy. If it could have been a friendship that turned into a love affair, instead of being something tenuous and desperate.

  Would the gods strike him down if he tried to pretend for the day that they were real lovers—spouses—and this entire matter was not instead likely headed for a disastrous end? But the idea of pretending turned his stomach. Living in a fantasy never brought anything but pain.

  Max hid a yawn in his sleeve as they left behi
nd a display of an enormous green vase covered in gold butterflies and silver vines and flowers. Something about a Countess and body parts, but he hadn't caught all of it, too distracted by his own tumultuous thoughts.

  "I'm sorry," Kelcey said. "This must be—"

  "No," Max said, clapping fingers over his mouth. "I have enjoyed this day very much. The first truly pleasant day I've had since my return, I promise you, sir. My yawn was not provoked by boredom, but depleted stores. I think we should perhaps seek out an early dinner and then determine how to spend the rest of our evening."

  Kelcey took hold of his hand, kissed the fingers briefly, then pulled it away from his mouth. "That sounds a fine arrangement, my lord. I apologize to have kept you overlong if you are hungry."

  "I would have spoken up had I truly minded." Max laced their fingers together. He turned them toward the entrance, keeping to a leisurely pace as they made their way back through the museum.

  There was a woman at the desk when they reached the entrance hall, and she gave them a polite smile and nod, bidding them a good evening. Max returned the nod, and left several notes on the desk.

  Outside, the afternoon was just beginning to take on the long shadows and faded look of encroaching evening, the wind carrying a nip that would be a full, chill bite come nightfall. The streets were mostly empty, only a few scattered persons about.

  Kelcey smiled at him, squeezed his hand. "Where would you like to eat?"

  "Hmm …" Max pondered the question as they walked down the steps and down the street. "What about …" He trailed off as he looked up and saw … he hated to admit it, but the look on Kelcey's face was rather a frightening one. The sort of expression he would expect to see on a real highwayman's face.

  He followed the direction of Kelcey's glare, expecting to see someone dangerous coming up behind him—but all he saw were a few people down the street. A woman and two children on the opposite side of the road, a man in a long, dark blue jacket briskly walking the other direction, and another man he just saw as he stepped into a shop, the bell above the door ringing in the otherwise quiet street.