Dirty Games

by Barbara Elsborg

  While Linton clung to Thorne’s thigh with one hand, he threaded the fingers of the other in Thorne’s hair and they held themselves together while they kissed. They slid from hard and forceful, to soft and teasing and back again. Thorne trailed his tongue over Linton’s teeth and around the inside of his cheeks, sliding over the hard ridge of his upper palate before pulling back to tug at his lip with his teeth. They were both breathing heavily.

  “You are so sexy,” Thorne whispered.

  “You like battered guys?”

  “Only battered fish.”

  Thorne danced his mouth down Linton’s neck then licked and caressed every mark on his chest. He wanted to kill the bastards who had done this except he suspected they’d be more likely to kill him. He didn’t want to not identify the men, but that was what he’d have to do. He felt terrible that this had happened to Linton. In trying to do the right thing, he’d done entirely the wrong thing.

  He eased Linton onto his back on the couch and worked his way down his body. Linton had one fist clenching and releasing at his side, while his other hand stroked Thorne’s hair. Thorne stared up at him. Linton’s eyes were closed, his lips parted as he breathed heavily. The angles of his face made him look younger than Thorne suspected he was. Linton was lightly muscled, long and slender and graceful. His dark hair looked just as good mussed up as it did combed. Thorne wished he could stare into his dark brown eyes. He also wished he was naked but he wanted to take his time. As he slid lower, he felt the hardness of Linton’s cock against his belly, then against his chest and much as he wanted to feel it against his mouth, Thorne slid off the couch onto the floor so he could caress Linton’s lower legs. Every bruise he kissed tor him between guilt and passion.

  “I’m not going to be able to give you ten out of ten. You missed a very painful bit,” Linton said.

  “I did?” Thorne licked and mouthed his way over Linton’s knee and up his thigh, trying not to feel responsible for the damage to Linton, but failing.

  His heart gave a thump when his mouth met Linton’s cock where it tented his shorts. He breathed hard on the wet patch where the head pressed against the material, and looked up to see Linton staring down at him.

  “You have longer eyelashes than me,” Thorne said.

  “Are you sure? Only my eyelashes?”

  Thorne chuckled and ran his tongue around Linton’s navel, smiling against the quivering, dancing skin and rubbing his chin on the treasure trail beneath. Linton sucked in a breath when Thorne’s neck came into contact with his cock. Thorne found himself hauled up and Linton wrapped his arms around him.

  “Not just my eyelashes,” Linton whispered.

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “My hair’s longer.”

  “You don’t have any hair there.”

  “I don’t? What the hell happened?”

  Oh fuck, you make me smile.

  Linton plastered his hands on Thorne’s arse and ran his teeth along the line of his jaw before dropping to the column of his neck. Though he hadn’t intended to, he found himself straddling Linton, rocking into him, their cocks riding together through their clothing. When Linton slid his hand into the back of Thorne’s pants, Thorne let out a long groan. Fingers pressed down on his backside and it was impossible to keep still.

  Thorne shifted his hand between their bellies and onto Linton’s dick, fondling him through the shorts; squeeze and release, squeeze and release.

  “Fuck,” Linton gasped and squeezed the flesh of Thorne’s butt.

  Much as Thorne wanted him to explore further, he was keen to do some exploration of his own. He shuffled down until his mouth joined his hand playing in Linton’s crotch, then breathed along the length of Linton’s dick, his own responding as if Linton were doing the same to him. One long hot exhale on the head, and Linton writhed beneath him.

  As slowly as he could, Thorne rolled down the top of Linton’s shorts until just the tip of his shaft was exposed, uncut, dark and glistening with pre-come. Thorne sucked in a breath, then peeled off Linton’s shorts and dragged them off his feet.

  “Oh fuck,” Thorne said.

  “Was that a good ‘oh fuck’ or I’ve changed my mind ‘oh fuck’?” Linton asked.

  Thorne smiled and dropped his head. He stared up into those impenetrable eyes, wrapped his hand around the base of Linton’s cock, and held tight as he lapped his balls, sucking on them one after the other, licking the soft skin as it wrinkled under his tongue. Pre-come trickled down the length of Linton’s shaft and when it reached his fingers, Thorne sucked it up.

  “Oh Christ…Christ…fuck.” Linton sobbed each word and clutched Thorne’s hair.

  Thorne stroked upwards, increasing the pressure around the swollen head before sliding his hand down. Then he repeated the motion, time after time, fast then slow, gentle then harder.

  “Forgive me if I come embarrassingly fast?” Linton gasped.

  “No.”

  Linton moaned. Thorne slipped the tip of the cock into his mouth, squeezed with his lips, rubbed the rounded crest with the flat of his tongue, round and round, then up and down the slit until Linton’s breathing deteriorated to irregular staccato gasps. The tang of salty pre-come filled his mouth and Thorne sucked harder.

  “Ahhh.” Linton tightened his hold on Thorne’s hair as Thorne took more and more of him into his mouth until he was deep throating as far as he could.

  When he pulled back to grab a breath, Thorne asked, “Anything you don’t like?”

  “An…chovies.”

  Thorne grinned, enveloped Linton’s dick and tugged on it with his mouth, and at the same time tightened his hold at the base to stop Linton coming.

  “Anchovies…and bastards,” Linton grunted.

  Thorne pressed his tongue deep into the slit on the cock head, teased out more pre-come and winced as Linton yanked at his hair. Thorne loved everything about this; the heat of Linton’s shaft, the musky scent, the mixed up salty-sweet taste, the different textures of skin, even having his hair pulled because most of all, he loved Linton’s reaction to what he was doing. Much as Thorne adored being given a blow job, there was almost as much pleasure for the giver, somehow especially in this case because Thorne wanted Linton to lose his mind in the delight of it.

  He trailed his tongue up and down Linton’s cock following the soft lines of the veins from the point where his fingers gripped tight, right up to the slippery crown.

  “Have you done this before?” Linton asked.

  You little… Had anyone ever risked a comment to him like that? Never.

  “No. I bite next, right?”

  Linton laughed. Thorne worked him harder, dragging his hand up then his mouth down and Linton shook as his breathing faltered.

  “Don’t worry,” Linton panted. “You’ll get better with practice. But skip the biting… That’s only for advanced practitioners.”

  When Linton’s dick hit the back of his throat he heard Linton’s breathy exhale, felt the guy’s fingers on his cheek, stroking where his cock pressed against the inside and Thorne’s cock jerked in his jeans. He swallowed against Linton time after time, grabbing air when he could while Linton’s cries and gasps grew increasingly desperate.

  “If you don’t swallow, move now,” Linton blurted.

  But Thorne wanted every second of this. He kept up the pressure, smiling around Linton’s dick as it heated and swelled. Linton bucked once and let out a long cry as his cock erupted in Thorne’s mouth filling it with hot salty semen.

  “Fuck, fuck,” Linton gasped and jerked with every pulse.

  Thorne almost couldn’t swallow all of it. Come was escaping from the corners of his lips. He didn’t want to stop sucking but he needed to breathe. When he let Linton loose, he found himself dragged up so they were face to face.

  “And the Olympic gold goes to—” Linton licked the corners of Thorne’s mouth. He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip as he smiled, and with that one simple gesture, broke into Thorne’
s damaged heart.

  “Is that a gold medal for the blow job or for not coming in my jeans?” Thorne asked.

  “Who said it was for you?”

  Thorne laughed.

  “The latter, obviously.” Linton paused. “You didn’t come in your jeans, did you?”

  “No.” Thorne swallowed hard. “Can I fuck you?”

  Tell him, tell him, tell him. “I need to tell you something.” Linton should have told him the moment he walked in but he’d been feeling so lost, so fucking scared that he didn’t want Thorne to leave. He should have told him before they messed around together, but he hadn’t.

  A shadow swept over Thorne’s face and Linton hated that he’d made that happen but if whatever this was between them was to continue, he couldn’t let things go any further until he’d told Thorne the truth.

  Except…if he did, it might wreck everything.

  Would wreck everything.

  So don’t tell him.

  Oh shit.

  Thorne stared at him expectantly. Linton knew he was giving mixed messages. One moment he’d been joking and now he was deadly serious, but his head was a jumble of emotions. There was something between them, some spark, some link, something worth pursuing. Thorne waited and Linton couldn’t do it. If he could show Thorne how much he meant to him, show him he wasn’t with him because of Owen but because he wanted him for himself, then he’d tell him.

  Coward.

  Horny coward.

  His phone rang and saved him. It was the letting agent. “I have to take this. Sorry.”

  Thorne rolled away from him and Linton sat up.

  “Hi, Pamela,” Linton said.

  “I have good news about your lease. I was just pulling together the statement when I had a call.”

  She’d made it clear he had to pay until the end of his lease and he’d asked her to see if there was any way she could make that not happen. He hoped that was why she was calling.

  “I have a guy who’s prepared to move in next Saturday.”

  Christ. That gave him hardly any time to find somewhere else.

  “Are you collecting a bonus?” Linton asked. “Share it and I’ll…comply.”

  “We could just make you pay for the period you contracted to rent.”

  Bitch. “Then you’d lose a…client.” He’d almost said tenant. Linton didn’t want Thorne to know how much of a mess he was in financially.

  “Fine. Two hundred pounds to leave on or before Friday,” the agent said.

  Linton guessed the new tenant was paying them a lot more than that to get in quickly. He mentally crossed his fingers. “Three fifty and it’s a deal.”

  “Okay.”

  She agreed so fast he wished he’d asked for more. He powered the phone down and turned to Thorne who was leaning against the wall. “Work thing. Sorry.”

  The moment between them had passed, Linton knew it. Well, for fucking anyway. He gathered his courage. “I have to tell you something.”

  “So you said.” Thorne’s jaw twitched. “Can I say something first?” He carried on without waiting for Linton to speak. “I get the feeling you don’t want to tell me whatever this thing is or you’d have just blurted it out. Do I really have to know? So long as you’re not involved with another guy, there’s nothing I need to be told. I like you. I want to go on dates, have fun. See if it leads anywhere. But we can keep it as casual as you like.”

  Linton stayed silent.

  Thorne took a deep breath. “Ever been to Moon? We could drink champagne on the roof terrace. Or we could check into the Ritz. Eat at Gordon Ramsay’s. Buy the latest toys in Hamleys.”

  “That all sounds expensive.”

  “I’ll pay.” The moment he said it, Linton saw Thorne register he’d made a mistake. “I get it. Okay, then we could stroll along the Thames Path eating fish and chips. Feed the ducks in Hyde Park. Go and gawk at the mummies in the British Museum. Or would you rather leave the city?”

  Linton thought about Budak and the idea of being out of his flat appealed. “Yes.”

  “Trust me to come up with something?”

  Linton nodded.

  “So we’re okay? You’re not going to blurt out you’re actually an alien and your space ship’s arriving soon to take you home? I think I’d rather hear that than the—it’s not you, it’s me speech.” Thorne rushed on. “If I’ve done something to put you off or freak you out, you can tell me that, but otherwise can’t we just see where this goes? With no baggage? No hang-ups? The only thing I care about is that you’re not cheating on someone.” He took a deep breath. “Is there someone else?”

  “No.”

  Thorne strode forward, pulled Linton to his feet and caught his jaw in his hand. “That’s all I need to know.” Then he kissed him.

  Linton told himself to swim back to shore even as Thorne pulled him further out to sea. The kissing grew more intense and Linton began to drown. His chance to convince himself this was a bad idea sank to the bottom of the ocean and became buried in sand.

  Thorne gently eased Linton onto his back on the bed.

  “Lie there and don’t do a thing,” Thorne said.

  “Am I allowed to breathe?”

  “Yeah, you can breathe. But no moving.”

  Linton’s dick twitched as it swelled and Thorne laughed.

  He lay and watched as Thorne stripped, his heart pounding in his throat with each item of clothing that was removed until all that was left were Calvin Klein briefs, tented by Thorne’s dick. Thorne was more muscular than him, had better defined abs, small taut nipples and a darker treasure trail. Linton swallowed as Thorne gave him a cheeky smile and peeled off the last item of clothing. Linton’s cock went the rest of the way back to full hardness. Christ, he’s big. All those fucking jokes and he’s really big.

  Linton tried not to wince as he shifted to make room on the bed for Thorne. They lay on their sides staring at one another.

  “You’re hurting,” Thorne said. “You should sleep.”

  “You mean we’ve taken our shorts off for nothing?” Oh fuck, shut up, you idiot. You’re supposed to be putting an end to this.

  “I’m trying to be good.”

  “I know I’m not very tempting. I look a mess.” Linton sighed.

  “You fucking don’t to me.” Thorne pulled him round until they were spooned together, his cock pressing into Linton’s arse, his mouth welded to Linton’s neck, teeth nipping, tongue lapping. “Go to sleep.”

  Linton laughed. Thorne rocked against him.

  “How am I supposed to sleep?” Linton asked.

  “I’m rocking you, aren’t I?”

  He’s probably going to hate me anyway. Why not do this?

  Because it’s wrong. You’ve already let this go too far.

  But…

  Linton had little enough in his life to look forward to. He pushed back against Thorne’s cock.

  “I don’t want to take advantage,” Thorne whispered.

  And I do. “Lube and condoms are in the top drawer. You can buy me more if you use them up.”

  He heard the catch in Thorne’s breathing. “Sure?”

  Stop offering me an out. “Fuck me.”

  Thorne leaned over to kiss him, tugged Linton’s upper lip between his teeth, then sucked and nipped. My bloody heart. It physically hurt. He reached for the back of Thorne’s head and held him tight as Thorne ground his cock against him. Linton liked to top as much as he liked to bottom, though he detested those words, the implication of them. He had no idea whether Thorne would let himself be fucked.

  It’s not going to happen anyway, is it? This is all I can have and I shouldn’t have this.

  Lust had Linton in its claws, welding him and Thorne together. He forgot his aches and pains, forgot why he shouldn’t be doing this and let himself fall.

  “Fuck, you are so hot.” Thorne breathed the words into Linton’s ear.

  Linton felt hot, on fire with passion and need. He moaned when he lost the heat of
Thorne’s body, then sucked in a breath at the trickle of cold lube that slid down the crease of his butt.

  “You have the best-looking backside I’ve ever seen,” Thorne whispered. “So perfect. Not too rounded. Not hairy. Smooth skin. Christ.” He laughed. “Why did I not just think all that and not say it?”

  Thorne dragged his finger down the lube and into the crack of Linton’s butt. He pressed his face into Linton’s shoulder as he massaged the lube around the ring of muscles, and Linton’s breathing quickened. A finger slipped inside and goose bumps flashed over Linton’s skin. Thorne was kissing his neck, nipping his ear, licking his cheek, sliding his finger in and out and Linton dissolved into the bed. One curl of his finger found that magic spot and Linton tensed with a deep groan before he let out a long sigh and relaxed again.

  “Say something,” Thorne whispered. “I like dirty talk.”

  “Yeah? When a male penguin falls in love with female penguin, he searches the entire beach to find the perfect pebble to give her. Round and smooth…like my backside apparently.”

  Thorne chuckled.

  “Don’t you think that would be a perfect research project?” Linton sucked in a breath as Thorne pushed two fingers into him. “Sitting on a beach, making notes about shapes and sizes of arses, I mean pebbles.”

  “If it was a hot tropical beach maybe.” Thorne slid his fingers in and out, loving the way Linton pushed back against him.

  Linton grunted. “Female penguins engage in a form of prostitution… They’ll have sex with males that aren’t their mates…in exchange for pebbles to build nests for their…arggh…babies.”

  “You can stop talking now,” Thorne said. “I was hoping you’d tell me how turned on you were.”

  “Your cock doesn’t feel as big as it looks.”

  Thorne bit his ear.

  “Ouch.”

  The burn of stretched muscles began to fade as pleasure became the overwhelming sensation. He heard the rip of foil, vaguely wondered how Thorne was doing that when his still had his fingers buried in his backside, then he stopped wondering and shuddered as the head of Thorne’s cock slid along the crease of his arse.

  Thorne grunted. “Any more about penguins?”