The Wish

by Winters, Eden

  The popping of a bottle lid penetrated the silence, and Alex braced himself for the expected invasion, shocked when, instead of his ass, oil-slickened fingers found his knotted back muscles, working them with practiced ease.

  At his breathy sigh, Paul chuckled. “I told you to relax, didn’t I?”

  Those talented hands worked outward from the center of Alex’s back, easing tension with a thorough massage. He heard the sound of the bottle opening again, and this time his thighs and lower legs were rubbed and kneaded before Paul’s surprisingly strong fingers found his glutes.

  When his cheeks were gently parted, he tensed, though he knew from experience that doing so would only cause more pain. Far from the stabbing penetration he’d expected, a steady stream of cool air blew across his exposed pucker.

  The soft tickle of facial stubble brushed against his ass as his thighs were forced wider apart. Once again, a hot tongue laved his balls before repeating the earlier swiping lick, this time moving from his balls to his hole. Alex hadn’t been entirely truthful when he’d said he never bottomed, but he hadn’t in a very long time. Casual fucks weren’t allowed the privilege. Another puff of air tantalized his damp opening.

  Suddenly, Paul altered the pattern of lick/blow, raising his head to bite Alex’s cheek hard enough to shock, stopping shy of truly painful. The sensation shot straight through Alex’s body and into his cock. Oh, fuck, what was that? Who knew being bitten could be erotic? Even more shocking, he found himself writhing, wanting more.

  What came next was like nothing he’d ever dreamed of. Instead of gentle, controlled exploration, lips, tongue, and teeth launched a full attack, licking, sucking, and biting in an unabashed frenzy up and down Alex’s back and buttocks.

  Paul’s moans created erotic vibrations to stoke Alex’s already raging libido. Even without direct stimulation to his cock, Alex teetered on the edge of orgasm, every fiber of his being screaming for release. Far from fearing penetration, he now hovered on the verge of begging Paul to fuck him.

  The mind-numbing sensations ceased abruptly, and he sobbed aloud in frustration, left hard and aching, denied completion.

  Soft snickers accompanied the now familiar sound of the bottle top. Excited as he was, Alex no longer dreaded the fingers he knew were going to breach him. Thanks to Paul’s attentions, he longed for them, arching back in an effort to speed up the process. After what seemed a small eternity, a well-oiled finger slid effortless inside, quickly joined by another. While they hovered at his entrance, preparing him, they never penetrated far enough to offer satisfaction or relief.

  Alex groaned in disapproval when those fingers slipped from his body. The soft rustle of fabric against fabric announced Paul removing his clothes. The condom Alex spotted on the bed earlier offered reassurance, as he hadn’t thought that far ahead himself—a stupid oversight he’d never made before. What was it about this man that aroused him to the point where he couldn’t think? Or was it that, deep down, he’d never seriously thought Paul would ever take him up on his carnal offer?

  The warmth of Paul’s hand grazed Alex’s hip as Paul patted the comforter, searching, the tearing sound a moment later proving he’d found what he sought. Paul shoved a pillow under Alex’s hips, raising his ass and presenting it like a gift to the lover… no, the man who’d soon take it.

  As Paul lowered himself, Alex longed to see the naked body about to claim him. He tried, unsuccessfully, unable to turn his head far enough. A slight weight covered his back, followed by an insistent nudging. Paul stopped. He inhaled sharply and then released the breath before murmuring, “Alex, do you want this? I don’t care what we said before. I won’t do this if it’s not what you want.”

  In answer, Alex reared back, a bit too hard, resulting in an excruciating burn that caused him to cry out and pull away. Thanks to his bonds, he had nowhere to go, and his erection, full and hard before, quickly deflated. He panted through the discomfort.

  The painful invasion stopped immediately, soft lips and hands tracing his shoulders. “Shh… easy, Alex. If you’re not used to this, we need to go slow.” Paul’s husky voice lulled him. “Relax. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  It humbled Alex that, though he’d ruthlessly taunted and insulted the man, Paul didn’t plunge in brutally, mindless of any pain he caused. They were adversaries, right? Why did Paul take such care to be a tender and thoughtful lover, when by rights he should be cold and unfeeling?

  The pain lessened gradually, and Alex’s breathing returned to normal. “Better?” Paul whispered, lips gently sweeping the back of Alex’s neck again.

  Alex nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  Paul tentatively maneuvered back and out of Alex’s body. The pop top snapped and more lube dripped on Alex’s opening, worked in by slick fingers. Paul repositioned himself, and this time, when he breached the tight ring of muscle, the burn was far less intense. Paul took his time, carefully working himself into the tight, seldom penetrated passage, stopping frequently to allow Alex time to adjust.

  At long last, Paul’s balls rested against his ass, cock buried completely inside. As slowly as it had entered, the cock that felt enormous eased out of Alex’s stretched passage. The slow, unhurried motions continued until Alex grew achingly hard again and ready for more. Raising his ass to meet Paul’s next controlled thrust, he silently pleaded for a more aggressive coupling. Paul gave him what he asked for.

  Paul rode him, varying speed and depth, angling his hips to ensure Alex received the maximum amount of pleasure with each forceful penetration. When Alex moaned, a thrust was repeated, until Paul knew exactly what excited him most, giving it in good measure.

  Once again hovering on the edge, Alex groaned his disappointment when Paul slowed and eventually stopped, sliding out once more. Paul turned Alex and gazed down with an expression far removed from the open hostility or sneering triumph Alex expected. Wasn’t there supposed to be humiliation and getting even for the snide comments and ill treatment? Instead, Paul painstakingly saw to his comfort, ensuring the bonds weren’t pinching before leaning down and capturing his mouth in another searing kiss. If Alex hadn’t known better, he would have sworn Paul meant the passionate gesture.

  Their lips parted, and Paul used his knee to separate Alex’s legs, repositioning the pillow under him. He kneeled between those splayed legs, gazing down appreciatively, like a craftsman admiring his handiwork. Alex caught his first glimpse of his captor fully naked, surprised to see a completely hairless chest, abdomen, and groin. Paul sported a full and heavy cock, as long as Alex had believed, and much thicker. He felt a rush of gratitude for Paul’s careful preparations; thoughtlessness might have caused serious injury.

  “Like what you see?” Paul whispered in a voice gone husky.

  Alex saw no use in lying. “Yes.”

  Paul’s beamed a guileless smile as he positioned himself again, his weight braced on one wiry, muscled arm. He bent one of Alex’s legs out of the way and guided himself back to Alex’s stretched opening, leaning in and sinking his teeth into a muscled shoulder. He slowly worked his way in and then out, driving Alex insane with impatience.

  Hissing sharply through clenched teeth, Alex arched his back and pulled hard against his makeshift bonds, wrapping his legs around Paul’s thighs, trying hard to hurry the wickedly slow pace.

  Paul teased for a few minutes, then relented and gave him what he craved. Bringing Alex once again to the brink, Paul settled into a steady, driving tempo, his hand finding and stroking Alex’s cock in a frantic rhythm.

  Deepening his plunging thrusts, Paul pressed further into Alex’s ass and stilled, his cock pulsing and spasming deep inside. His hand faltered as he groaned out his completion. Alex found release a split second later, rendered more intense by the repeated denials.

  With a heady sigh, Paul collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs, still firmly embedded in Alex’s body. He mumbled incoherent words against Alex’s chest.

  Careful as Paul was
, Alex still winced when the man’s spent flesh slowly eased from his body. He suffered another brief moment of panic when Paul disappeared without a word. The sound of running water prompted a sigh of relief.

  Bare feet padding across the floor announced Paul’s return. He carefully released the tie, raising Alex’s abraded wrists and examining them before bestowing a gentle kiss on each.

  Paul’s intense brown eyes locked with Alex’s as he wiped away the evidence of their encounter with a damp cloth. Never had Alex witnessed such heated passion directed at him, and for a moment he imagined the pseudoadoration to be love instead of the mysterious, unknown emotion it actually was. Triumph, perhaps?

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Paul tossed the soiled cloth to the floor to join their discarded clothes.

  Alex shook his head, fully prepared to be abandoned now that they’d satisfied the terms of their agreement, the idea depressing beyond his reckoning.

  Instead of leaving, Paul folded the comforter down and urged Alex to crawl beneath it, climbing in afterward to snuggle against Alex’s side.

  “Paul, I…,” Alex began, without any real clue of what he intended to say.

  “Shh…. We’re still playing by my rules,” Paul replied. “Let’s not try to talk tonight.” He kissed the sting out of the words, delivering another soul-searing kiss Alex feared might prove addictive. Burrowing into the covers, Paul yawned and said, “Good night.” Soon steady, even breathing confirmed Paul was asleep. More sated than he ever remembered feeling, Alex wasn’t far behind.

  BYRON hovered outside in the hallway once Alex and Paul climbed the stairs, decorum dictating that he not spy on two of his favorite men. When the moans and guttural cries quieted, he couldn’t help himself and chanced a peek into the blue room.

  Gliding over to the bed, he fought the urge to crow in happiness. Observing the peaceful sleepers lying entwined, he exulted that they’d finally put aside their differences and given in to their mutual attraction. Oh, how Byron loved being right.

  Satisfied his work there was done, the spirit of Byron Sinclair, now beginning to assume the shape he’d worn in life, sped away to keep watch over his own sleeping lover.

  10

  CONSCIOUSNESS slowly surfaced, and Paul registered deep, even breaths from across the bed. A hairy leg brushed his ass, inspiring a hopeful twitch from his cock. He jumped and rolled away, gazing through bleary eyes at his bedmate.

  What have I done? After weeks of holding Alex at bay, he’d finally given in to temptation. The only thing truly stopping him before had been the reasons behind Alex’s pursuit. In those piercing blue eyes he was damned anyway—might as well earn the title he’d been given. Despite Alex’s opinions, Paul wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy and should’ve shown more control. Grieving was a poor excuse to seek comfort from the enemy.

  Depressed, lonely, and missing his uncle, the offer, however facetiously made, had come at the worse possible moment. He told himself he’d merely needed the comfort of a willing body, and Alex had been available; it wasn’t personal. Paul sighed. He’d never made a convincing liar, telling himself half-truths to justify doing what he’d wanted to do anyway. Now, in the cold light of morning, could he live with the consequences?

  Warily watching Alex for movement, he patted the nightstand for his glasses, blinking hard to clear his vision once he’d put them on. His breath caught at the sight beside him—the man he’d come to realize he wanted and had never hoped to have. Last night had been a one-time deal, one he’d expected to satisfy his desire and banish it from his system. His night with Alex, in fact, had only added fuel to a fire already burning out of control. Jordan had certainly never inspired such deep cravings.

  Deeply asleep, Alex appeared more innocent, more approachable than he did while awake, his eyes darting randomly behind closed lids, long, sweeping lashes brushing his high cheekbones. The silvery moonlight shining through the window added burnished gold highlights to the wavy blond hair, a feature handed down from past Andersons that Paul knew from going through aging photographs. Alex was the last. Oh, some second-cousins-eight-times-removed or something similar hung out in Boston, but other than Alex, Alfred, and Alfred’s eighty-seven year old widowed aunt, the Anderson legacy was at an end.

  What a shame the man’s DNA wouldn’t be preserved for posterity. Alex made a nearly perfect specimen, at least physically. Too bad he insisted on acting like such a prick.

  It was hard to reconcile the conceited jerk Paul knew firsthand with the stories he’d heard from his uncles of the considerate and thoughtful young man Alex had been in his younger years. Where had that person gone? Was it possible to get him back? Every once in a while, Paul caught brief glimpses of a caring soul, normally kept hidden by a mask of indifference, and Paul had made love to that caring person last night. As much as he wanted to believe goodness lived within Alex, the finer parts of the man’s personality were kept under lock and key by the paranoid creature who believed Paul capable of seducing Alfred for money. Paul nearly laughed aloud at the sheer absurdity.

  He knew he was deluding himself that anything could come of his wanting, and yet he lingered a moment longer to indulge in the illusion of Alex as his lover. At last, with a sigh of resolution, he leaned over and touched his lips to the sleeping enigma’s. One last kiss. Bidding farewell to bittersweet fantasy, he rose and hastily dressed, abandoning the comforting haven for his own lonely bed, after briefly checking in on Alfred.

  EROTIC tenderness in a well-used part of his anatomy greeted Alex upon waking, and he lay still, feigning sleep and listening, until it became clear he slept alone. He sighed. Going against his normal policy of fuck ’em and leave, he’d hoped Paul would spend the night, allowing them a chance to talk, although he didn’t know what he’d say. Reality hit him like a smack in the face. No, too much risk of Alfred finding out if boy toy wasn’t in his room at night. Oh, shit! Uncle Alfred! What had he done?

  Last night had been about conquest, Alex told himself, a onetime encounter rating less than a casual fuck, or at least that’s how it started out. Only, instead of conquering, he’d been conquered. When given the upper hand, however, Paul had refused to exploit his dominance. Instead of forcing his will, he’d taken the time to be an exciting and attentive lover. For the first time, Alex believed he was dealing with an equal, despite Paul’s lack of pedigree or old money. Also for the first time, once wasn’t enough. Far from wanting to kick Paul out and forget him, Alex wanted Paul’s exquisite cock inside his body again. The man he’d avoided for most of his life intrigued him more than anyone else ever had.

  Reality returned, reminding Alex of his original purpose for seducing Paul. Any benevolent thoughts vanished, replaced by guilt and suspicion. Paul wasn’t an equal. He was one more man willing to sleep his way up the social ladder. How easily the fickle gold-digger betrayed the hand feeding him, even if he’d given in to put an end to unwanted advances.

  Something occurred to Alex. Now that he’d gained the hard evidence he’d sought, would running to Uncle Alfred do more harm than good? What if Alfred truly loved Paul? Would this betrayal, following on the heels of Byron’s death, be too much to bear? For that matter, was Paul still after money now that his deceased uncle had undoubtedly left him comfortably financed? “One item” could translate into a sizeable bankroll.

  Alex shifted in bed, his soreness a reminder of how he’d spent the evening, and an image appeared in his mind of Paul, poised above him, claiming him. Forcefully banishing those thoughts, he rose and entered his bathroom, where an opened drawer revealed the lubricants and condoms Paul had searched for the night before. Alfred kept the guest bath supplied? Well, this was the room chosen for him—it made sense. Paul knew they were here. Maybe Paul’s bathroom was similarly stocked, something Alex didn’t want to dwell on.

  He tried in vain to push reminders of the man from his mind and focus on his shower. Steady streams of hot water beat against his back, renewing his strength. Memori
es of the sexy seducer kneeling before him wouldn’t be denied. He’d wanted desperately to wrap his fingers in dark hair and fuck that talented mouth, but hadn’t had the chance to indulge properly. Now, visualizing his erection sliding past those pouty lips, stretching them wide, he tightened his grip to nearly painful levels and thrust violently into his clenched fist.

  Moaning and bucking his hips, he stifled a yell, his orgasm slamming into him like a tidal wave. In his mind, Paul’s mouth filled and overflowed, a greedy tongue capturing every drop. Panting heavily and bracing against the slick shower walls, Alex watched the evidence of his fantasy circle the drain before disappearing in a whirlpool of water and soap. Oh, shit, was he ever in trouble. The only man he’d ever fucked and wanted more from was off-limits.

  Later, toweling off, he stopped to stare in shock at his reflection. Purpled bites decorated his shoulders and chest, leading up to his neck, and he shivered at the unsubtle souvenirs from a night when he’d been well and truly owned.

  BREAKFAST was a quiet affair, mostly because Alex ate alone. Alfred couldn’t eat or drink before checking into the hospital at ten o’clock, and neither Bernard nor Martha had talked to Paul all morning. Maybe the conniving little schemer had conceded defeat and given up.

  Alex supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him to find the missing conundrum in his uncle’s room, busily packing a suitcase, something the hired help should have been doing, in his opinion.

  “Good morning, Uncle,” Alex began cheerfully, pointedly ignoring Paul, who retreated into the walk-in closet without acknowledging him.

  “Good morning, Alex,” his uncle replied. “I trust you had a pleasant evening.”

  More loudly than actually necessary, he answered, “Why, yes, sir. Most memorable, indeed.”