Just a Little Heartache
Page 9
He could hardly catch his breath as he peeled off his shirt and unfastened his trousers. Blake was undressing at a faster rate than he was, and when he tossed his shirt aside, revealing a perfect, muscular chest with a dusting of dark hair that narrowed to a line that disappeared beneath the waist of his trousers, Niall momentarily forgot what he was doing or where he was.
The look of pure lust in Blake’s eyes did nothing to straighten out his thoughts, nor did the way Blake surged into him, knocking him back against the arm of the sofa. Blake kissed him hard, bruising his lips and thrusting his tongue into his mouth as his hands spread across Niall’s sides, exploring. Sounds of pleasure that Niall hadn’t known he could make ripped out of him as Blake stroked his belly and chest, teasing his nipples. It was so much so suddenly, and it was so good that Niall was in serious danger of losing control within seconds.
That danger only grew more acute as Blake’s mouth left his to trail across Niall’s neck to his chest. Blake hummed and groaned as if he were the one receiving pleasure instead of giving it as he kissed and licked his way to one of Niall’s nipples. The sensation was so amazing that Niall gasped and arched into him, grabbing the back of the sofa with one hand and burying his other in Blake’s curly hair.
Blake didn’t stop there, though. His hands made quick work finishing with the fastenings of Niall’s trousers, then pushing them down. Niall let out a strangled sound of bliss as his cock leapt free, straining up against Blake’s touch. The intensity of the pleasure he felt was so powerful that he trembled as Blake cupped his balls and brought his mouth to the tip of Niall’s prick.
Blake barely had it in his mouth when Niall gasped, “I can’t. I’m not going to—”
It was already too late. He came hard in Blake’s mouth, arching and moaning as he did. Blake swallowed, his eyes wide, then broke away, panting.
“I’m sorry,” Niall panted, going hazy in the post-orgasmic glow, but still pulsing with arousal. “You’re just so perfect.”
“It’s fine,” Blake whispered, sliding his way up Niall’s body to kiss him. The musky taste of his mouth kept Niall’s senses reeling. “You’re fine. We’re fine.” Blake kissed him again, still eager. He fumbled with his own trousers, and Niall sucked in a breath as he felt the bare heat of Blake’s cock jerk against his hip. “We’re young. What will it take, fifteen minutes until we’re ready to go again?”
“If that,” Niall panted, throwing his arms around Blake as Blake jerked against him.
A grin teased Niall’s lips as Blake kissed him distractedly, clearly more intent on coming than kissing. Niall helped the process along by sliding his hands down Blake’s back and slipping his fingers into the cleft of his arse to finger his hole.
That was all it took. With a sharp gasp that turned into a loud groan, hot moisture spread across Niall’s belly. Niall closed his eyes and smiled with his whole heart, overcome with the joy of what it all meant. Blake sagged heavily on top of him with a protracted sigh. Their bodies felt so perfect together, chests bared and damp, trousers caught around their thighs, adding an erotic feel to the moment. Niall couldn’t stop touching and stroking Blake’s arse and back and kissing the side of his face as it rested beside him on the arm of the sofa.
“That was incredible,” he said when he could finally manage to form words.
Blake strained to prop himself above Niall by a few inches, gazing into his eyes with fire that was only dimmed, not extinguished. “I want more,” he growled, leaning in to kiss Niall so hard it took his breath away. “I want everything you said you’d do in your letters.”
“Then we’d better move to your bed,” Niall said, one eyebrow arched mischievously.
They spilled off of the sofa, tumbling clumsily to the floor, giggling and giddy in their efforts to shuck their trousers and drawers and hurry into the bedroom. The room and the bed were small, but Niall discovered the sheets were soft and fine as he slipped between them. He reached for Blake, pulling him into his arms. Their legs tangled together and their arms circled each other as they settled on their sides. Niall wanted to touch Blake everywhere at once, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. Everything about the way their bodies fit together was perfection. They couldn’t seem to stop kissing each other, as if kissing were a new discovery and they were determined to master it. They both moaned and hummed with abandon as they tasted and explored each other.
Exactly as Blake had predicted, they were both hard again in no time. It was almost a surprise to Niall how eager his cock was. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other and laughed as their fingers bumped while trying to stroke and fondle the other. There was nothing organized or planned about the pleasure they gave each other, only the desperation to make each other feel everything they could.
“I want you to fuck me,” Blake said at last, breaking away enough to gaze into Niall’s eyes with wicked heat. “In the arse,” he added, as though that were a necessary detail.
Niall laughed in spite of himself. “God, I want to,” he sighed.
“Then do it.” Blake wriggled away from him, flipping to his stomach and lifting his backside. “Do it now. I want you inside of me.”
Niall laughed harder, stroking Blake’s hip and side. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?”
Blake flushed, twisting to sit facing Niall. “In this way, yes.”
Niall shook his head and leaned in to kiss him. “Well, my lovely virgin, you can’t just go getting fucked in the arse without any sort of preparation.” He paused. “I mean, I suppose you could, but it would be painful and awkward.”
Blake’s determined look of desire faltered. “It would?”
“Would you shove a large parsnip up your dry arsehole?” Niall asked with a sardonic look, one eyebrow raised.
“Maybe?” Blake grinned.
Niall laughed, hiding his face in the pillow for a moment. His heart swelled to the point where it felt like it would burst. He loved Blake, pure and simple.
“Wait here,” he said, climbing over Blake and making sure their bodies touched in as many ways as possible before he got out of bed.
He dashed into the main room to fetch his satchel, taking out a jar of lubricant. When he brought it back into the bedroom, Blake gave him a curious look.
“Thank God this was planned,” Niall said, sinking back into the bed and unscrewing the jar. “I brought this useful little salve.”
“What’s it for?” Blake asked, eyes glittering.
Niall sighed fondly. “God, it’s going to be such a pleasure to teach you everything you need to know.” His heart thumped faster and his balls ached as he added, “Roll over.”
Blake did as he was told, then sucked in a hard breath as Niall spread a generous dollop of the salve over his hole. “Fuck,” he hissed as Niall fingered him.
“If you really want this, you have to relax,” Niall said, using his most authoritative director’s voice. “You have to let go and accept it. Let me in, no matter how alarming it feels at first.”
“God, you’re making me want it even more,” Blake panted. “That feels so good.”
Niall had added a second finger to his teasing, giving Blake a taste of what was to come as he worked to help him loosen up. The entire process was enthralling and, perhaps paradoxically, filled him with a soul-deep tenderness. The level of trust Blake was showing him in baring himself so thoroughly was astounding. The way he lifted his hips and parted his legs farther on Niall’s instructions, panting and making sounds of pleasure as Niall invaded him had Niall’s throat tight with emotion.
“I’m close,” Blake said plaintively after a few minutes. “So close. You’d better—”
Niall didn’t let him finish his sentence. He was hard as iron himself, and after slicking his cock with the salve, he positioned himself behind Blake and pushed in fast, before Blake could change his mind.
They both groaned loudly as their bodies joined. Blake was so tight that it was almost impossible for Niall to go slowly
instead of pounding into him until he found his own release, which wouldn’t take long.
“Are you all right,” he panted, arching over Blake’s back to embrace him as much as he could.
“God, yes,” Blake said, desperation and pleasure in his voice. “It feels…it feels….”
Niall started moving in earnest when Blake was at a loss for words. He finished the sentence for himself as his balls tightened and his body prepared to burst deep inside of Blake. It felt like paradise.
He picked up his pace, but it was only a few seconds before Blake moaned, “Fuck, Niall,” and came on the sheets.
Niall felt the contraction that racked Blake and made a sound of victory and pleasure. That sound continued as he rode on, reaching for the bliss that was within his reach, then exploding with it. He emptied himself inside of Blake, but quickly lost the strength to go on. He pulled away and collapsed to the side, which was fine, as far as he was concerned, because in that moment, all he wanted to do was hold Blake.
“God, I love you,” Blake said breathlessly, twisting to his side and drawing Niall into his arms. “That was everything.”
Niall’s eyes went wide in spite of his overwrought senses as he embraced Blake in turn and met his kiss with surprise and passion. “I love you too,” he managed between kisses, wondering how his life could have turned out so perfectly when so many odds were stacked against him.
“I want to do that again,” Blake panted as the energy drained from both of them, leaving them unable to even kiss as they lay tangled in each other.
Niall laughed, touching his forehead to Blake’s. “I love how eager you are,” he said, stroking the side of Blake’s face.
“This is all new to me,” Blake whispered in return. “I want as much of it as possible. I want you as much as possible.”
“And you’ll have me,” Niall smiled tenderly. His tenderness shifted to teasing. “So much that we’ll both walk around in a constant state of exhaustion, if we’re not too sore to be capable of walking.”
“It’ll be the best kind of exhaustion and the best kind of soreness,” Blake insisted, kissing him and rolling Niall to his back. “And it will last for the rest of our lives.”
Chapter 8
What followed was the most blissful fortnight of Niall’s life. Unashamed, unapologetic, he spent every night in Blake’s bed. They had to make excuses, miss pressing engagements, and ignore previous commitments, but every night ended with them breathless and spent in each other’s arms. Even when evening rehearsals for the play began as the performance date drew near, they found a way to end up naked and transported in each other’s arms.
That didn’t mean the letters stopped, though. Every afternoon, Niall penned a new love letter, detailing everything the two of them explored together in lurid detail, and every evening he’d receive an equally lurid reply. They started reading their letters aloud to each other once they were finally alone and in bed, late into the night, and acting out their wildest fantasies with each other.
By the day of the play’s one and only performance, Niall knew they’d crossed into dangerous territory.
“We should practice our kiss,” Blake said with a rakish, sideways look as they sat side by side in front of the mirrors that had been set up in the dressing room they shared backstage.
“I thought that’s what we’ve been doing all week,” Niall answered with a coquettish flicker of one eyebrow. “John and David think we’re ridiculous.”
“I don’t care what your friends think. We haven’t gotten kissing quite right yet.” Blake grinned, pivoting to face him on his stool. He slid his hand along Niall’s thigh, dipping to brush the spot where more than one bright red mark stood out against the pale skin near Niall’s balls beneath the skirt he wore.
Niall failed to hide his giggle as he thanked heaven the heavy skirt of his costume did far more to hide his excited state than trousers ever could. He wasn’t one to dress in drag, but he could suddenly see how it had its advantages. Blake’s costume was far less concealing.
“We should probably run those lines one last time, just to be sure,” Niall said in a playfully sensual voice.
Blake stood, extending a hand to help Niall to his feet. “Come, my darling. Let us celebrate our union instead of denying it. Let all the kingdom celebrate with us.”
Niall sagged easily into Blake’s arms, slanting his mouth over his and indulging in a kiss that was absolute madness, considering the dressing room door stood open behind them. He couldn’t help but sigh as Blake’s tongue danced with his. Blake’s taste was so familiar to him now. He knew every contour of Blake’s body, but still couldn’t get enough. He circled a hand around Blake’s waist and let it drop to his backside—a backside that was now very limber and used to intimate invasion.
“How much time do we have before places are called?” Blake whispered against his cheek as he moved to kiss Niall’s neck, as he loved to do. He loved it so much that Niall had had to starch his collars and conceal the evidence with stage make-up in the last few weeks.
Blake’s question was answered by the approach of heavy footsteps, and a moment later, Paul stuck his head into the room to ask, “Do you want to lead us through vocal warm-ups? Because Ian just told me that the lobby is already crowded with people eager to see the play.”
“That’s a good idea,” Niall said breathlessly. He’d leapt out of Blake’s arms well before Paul caught a glimpse of him, but he was overheated and knew he looked as guilty as sin all the same.
“I’ll let the rest of the cast know,” Paul said. He leaned away, then his face pinched slightly as he stepped forward again. “You may want to fix your lip rouge before you leave this room. It’s a little obvious what you’d been up to.”
“We aren’t up to anything,” Blake said, a little too quickly.
Paul merely laughed and stepped away, into the hall. A moment later, they heard his voice call, “Vocal warm-ups on the stage, now.”
Niall’s heart beat in his throat, and it was all he could do to swallow it and gather his wits for the job ahead of him. It didn’t help that when he turned back to Blake, Blake’s lip rouge was smeared. He darted a look in the mirror to discover that his was just as messy.
“He’s right,” he sighed, reaching for a square of cloth to wipe his mouth, then started over with the make-up. “It is obvious.”
Blake swore under his breath and leaned toward the mirror, hurriedly cleaning himself up and reapplying his own make-up.
Niall sighed as he touched a brush with a feminine shade of rogue to his lips. “We can’t keep this a secret indefinitely, Blake. Too many people know the truth already.”
“We have to keep it a secret,” Blake said in a dangerously flat voice, staring straight ahead into the mirror.
“Secrets have a way of getting out, whether you want them to or not,” Niall insisted.
“We’ll just have to deny everything.”
Niall put down his rogue brush so fast it clattered across the table. “You want to deny everything?” His voice was pitched too high and his chest squeezed in fear.
Blake sighed and lowered his head for a moment. “No,” he said, finishing with his lips then tossing his brush aside. He straightened and faced Niall. “I don’t want to deny anything,” he said in a soft, strained voice. He peeked past Niall to the open doorway. The sounds of warm-ups starting drifted down the hall. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but how are we going to do that?”
“We’ll find a way,” Niall said, resting a hand on Blake’s cheek. He took a breath, steeling his courage, not for the performance that was about to happen, but for the impossible task that they’d have on their hands once that was over. “It’s been done before, you know. Plenty of times. Men like us lead perfectly normal lives together. Quiet, unobtrusive lives.”
“Do you really think either of us is destined to a lead quiet, unobtrusive life?” Blake asked with a grin.
“Niall! Blake! Are you com
ing?” Paul’s voice boomed from the hall.
“As frequently as possible,” Niall answered with a teasing flicker of his eyebrow before turning and heading out of the room.
Blake followed him. They were all smiles and excitement, joining the rest of the cast on the stage to warm up, but Niall felt an uncomfortable tension underneath their high spirits that hadn’t been there before. The moment had come. The play was on. And as soon as it was over, he and Blake would have to face the thing they had spent the last month not talking about, not thinking about, and not considering. Decisions would have to be made.
As soon as their warm-up was finished, the house was opened and the buzz of dozens of people taking their seats slowly grew to a nerve-rattling crescendo.
“How many tickets did we sell to this show?” Ian asked as the cast paced restlessly across the stage, the full impact of what they were doing hitting Niall square in the chest.
“I heard that we sold out,” Morton said with a huge smile. “It was all my doing, of course. Half the ladies of York wanted to come see the show once they heard I was the lead chorister.”
A few of his friends laughed. Even Niall found it within him to laugh.
“I know my father and mother and Edward are here, and so are the Cannons,” Ian said, sidling up to Niall’s side as though they were the best of friends. “And your parents too, Stanley.”
Niall whipped to face Blake, his eyes widening and his breath catching in his throat. “Your parents are here?” he asked in a strangled voice.
“They arrived in York the day before yesterday,” Blake confessed, looking guilty.
“It’s a shame that they had to stay with Lord and Lady Fairport instead of my parents,” Ian said, chin tilted up in victory. “I’m certain your father would have loved to make Mr. Cannon’s acquaintance.”
“The Cannons were at Lord Fairport’s most of yesterday,” Blake said, fiddling anxiously with the cuff of his costume, then humming a few bars of his first solo.