by Vivienne Cox
The cool white hands were gentle and Alexander let himself get lost in the sensation. Ordinarily, he would have finished their business and been on his way but he rather enjoyed the young lieutenant’s passionate response, his embarrassed curiosity.
For just a moment, he spared a thought for Bill, then pushed it away and once more relaxed into James’ touch. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take much longer to get the money he needed to pay off the greedy wogs at the gaol. He was careful now, not to get caught stealing. Wouldn’t do any good with both of them in stir. And this James was a lot prettier than most of his trade these past few weeks.
James’ hands never stilled; they explored and took notice, a man’s lean body at once more familiar and less known than a woman’s. Sated himself, he took his time contemplating the taste of salt on his lips as he kissed lower, hard muscle instead of soft flesh beneath slick skin. He reached up to cup Alexander’s chin, now feeling the very faint coarseness of a beard growing there, testing the texture beneath his tongue before travelling lower, slowly mapping the enticing expanse of bared skin as he drew them both down on the bed.
Alexander obligingly let himself be explored, stretching out on his back, his head turned to watch the wonder in James’ face as his hands moved over skin smoother than expected. He smiled and reached out to push the chestnut hair aside so he could see those wide green eyes. “All yours, love, for whatever ya want.”
With any luck, that scant handful of coin wasn’t the only thing the young man had stashed on his person. Though, he thought, it wasn’t a complete failure as a night. Bill would cut his throat if he knew how he’d managed to keep his friend’s right hand, but that wasn’t going to happen, and Alexander was tired. Being stranded here in Algiers hadn’t been any kind of a picnic and just now, his main object was to get Bill out of that bleedin’ prison before it got too hard to bribe the guards. He didn’t speak enough of the local lingo to pass for a fisherman and Lord only knew, it weren’t the first time he’d traded his body for coin or consideration.
James was too caught up in his exploration to notice anything but salt and skin, so determined was he to use the opportunity and find out all he could, to understand what he had sometimes witnessed in dark holds and to which he had turned a blind eye.
His hand had found Alexander’s hip, gripping tightly around the sharp bone that fit perfectly into his palm; his tongue dipped into the hollow of his navel, as Alexander had done to him before, just more slowly, wonderingly.
As he crawled lower yet, he hesitated for a moment, but then let his tongue flick out against hardening flesh, wondering if he could coax a reaction similar to the one he had experienced.
Alexander’s fingers stroked through his hair gently. “Ya don’t hafta do that, love. I’m here fer you, y’know.”
The tentative lips were soft, inexperienced and felt very good, nonetheless, and Alexander moaned softly at the hot wet of James’ tongue against his prick. He smiled again, and propped himself up on his elbows to watch James with unreadable eyes.
Through the curtain of his hair, already grown long since he had last had it shorn, James glanced up, eyes almost pleading beneath long lashes. “Then let me.” His fingers tightened and relaxed against Alexander’s hips, but he did not move, waiting instead for permission to do something for which he had not paid.
“Ye’re lovely, James.” Alexander’s voice was very soft and he was honestly touched. “Wotever ya like.” He ran one hand along a cheek, tracing the strong jaw and down the pale throat, then lay back obediently. “I’m all yours.”
It was only the second time that Alexander had used James’ name, curling around his lips, such a personal sound, which of course it was not. He was a whore, James reminded himself, someone to whom he could perhaps extend a certain care, but not more. Come morning, no one would be the wiser, and James one, albeit illegal, experience richer. “Thank you, Alexander,” he whispered with the barest hint of a smile, then leaned forward tentatively, first his tongue feeling its way, then his lips enveloping.
Alexander moaned low in his throat at the touch, his breath quickening. He held himself still. This was clearly more than just a surprise to Lieutenant James Whoever-He-Was and Alexander wasn’t about to shock him with the kind of rough thrusting to which he was accustomed. His hands stroked the dark hair encouragingly. “Oh damn, that feels good.” He took in a shuddery breath.
James continued, trying to remember what had taken him to the brink of ecstasy, attempting to imitate what little he consciously remembered. He took Alexander as far as he could, but when he gagged, withdrew and instead gripped the base in one hand, stroking as he bobbed his head,fondling beneath with his other hand.
Alexander’s hair tossed back and forth across the pillow, the fingers curled around him a shock of coolness against his overheated flesh. This young man was almost unbearably sweet, his hesitant fingers exploring. Alexander smiled into the darkness. “It’s awright, love. Feels wonderful.” he panted.
His stained and painted hands were in James’ hair, gently guiding his head, until he could feel himself pulsing, trembling on the very brink of release. “Sure about this, love?” he managed to gasp, holding back until he thought his head was going to explode.
James peered up at him from under his hair, a challenging glint in the expressive green eyes that conveyed the smirk even without the aid of his lips. The hands on his head were still, did not demand anything, and that made him all the more certain. Instead of relenting, he bobbed his head down again, sucking hard.
Alexander took two little breaths, then moaned long and low, his fingers tensing a little as he forced his hips still and let a wave of passion wash through him like a gale, shooting between those very insistent lips. For a long moment, he simply shuddered, surprised at himself and at James. This had been the last thing he expected from the night, but it was more than welcome. Funny how it seemed so different from his usual rounds and he almost felt a pang, wondering if it was deserved.
James swallowed as well as he could, grinning around softening flesh as he contemplated the taste. Again, salt, just slightly bitter. Did a man always and everywhere taste of the sea? Was that the reason it was not as appalling as the thought had struck him before? He reciprocated in kind, washing first with his tongue and then with the towel, although his hair was too short to use it for drying. The bed creaked as he crawled up, both of them at eyelevel now.
The dark gaze drew him in, and he was silent, once more hesitating. Then he cast restraint into the wind and knowingly brought his lips to a man’s for the first time.
They were warm and wet and pliant, and it was not so different from kissing a woman, even if the taste of metal, probably from the golden teeth, filled his mouth. He drew back after a while, smiling down.
Alexander simply looked up at him mutely and managed a returning grin. He’d found out right quick that few, if any, kissed a whore. A pity, since he did enjoy it so, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He pulled James closer. “Thank you.” His hands wandered over the strong shoulders, feeling along the bones under the milk white skin. “You’re a lovely one, you are.” His lips curved into another grin.
“There’s plenty more, y’know.” No teasing in the dark eyes. It was all-too-obvious that James was in the throes of a first experience and he couldn’t help feeling a rush of gratitude for the care and curiosity. Better that than the usual, and that was a fact.
James was perched on his elbows, buying himself time with another kiss, again, unusual, soft as he would kiss a woman, but Alexander was never passive, even as he yielded beneath his lips. He withdrew, staring down, shaded by his own hair. “What more is there, then?”
“Oh love, you are new t’this!” Alexander laughed, reaching between them to fondle James as he kissed a trail along that lovely collarbone. “You can do it if ya want, y’know. Bugger me, I mean.”
James breathed in sharply. A hanging offence, even more than what they had already
done, yet tempting as Satan himself, and he no saint to resist. This was not something he had ever done with a woman, and the unknown held the same appeal as before. It was not as if it affected anyone but Alexander, who had given him permission, and himself. “Yes. I mean, yes, I would like to do that.”
Alexander kissed him again, swallowing his smiles. This was too precious and completely ridiculous but then again, Alexander was used to ridiculous situations. They seemed to be created just for him, like getting stranded here in the midst of the Barbary without a shilling and Bill, caught for thieving a bit of fruit. He almost laughed out loud at the delightful blush turning the young lieutenant’s face crimson and stole another kiss. He did love kisses and these were dreadfully sweet.
“Hold on, love.” He uncurled from around James and dug about in those blasted native trousers until he found the sweet oil and stretched out on the bed again, admiring the lean limbs and taut muscle. His fingers were slow and languid, teasing James’ half-hard prick with light caresses.
The vial in Alexander’s hand was small and translucent, and when James guessed its purpose, his prick literally leaped to attention under the teasing touches. Still, he leaned back and let himself be touched as Alexander had done, watching, his breath hitching into a gasp every now and then.
Alexander continued to touch and tease, then opened the bottle and warmed the oil between his hands before using both to anoint James’ cock with it liberally, taking the opportunity to stroke him in a slippery grip. He stretched one leg to the floor, balancing on his knee and poured out a bit more of it, reaching around to make sure he was amply prepared: the hard prick was not of inconsiderable size and he arched one eyebrow with a grin before kneeling, looking back over his shoulder, one glistening hand reaching down to trail droplets of oil onto James’ balls.
James moaned again and he was shuddering, every muscle tensed with the attempt to keep still. Alexander worked with effortless grace, grinning at him. The stroking hands, lightly calloused beneath the slippery oil were slick bliss against him, and he bit his lip to keep from moaning and whimpering like a boy.
The braided black mane streamed down over Alexander’s back and he winked, waggling his arse with a laugh. “Go on, love. I won’t break.” The hollows of his hips swallowed the shadows, his small backside rounded and the colour of dark amber.
James blinked, but then laughed as well, a little strained as his hands slid up Alexander’s thighs to his hips, steadying as he pushed in slowly, thinking that it might well be him who would break. The heat beckoned for him to thrust, and so he did, albeit carefully, a distant part of his brain realizing that the sheer tightness might be pleasant for him, but certainly painful for Alexander.
Alexander bit down on his lower lip and forced himself to stay relaxed, his eyes widening as he was filled. Oh yes, a very healthy Englishman, this lovely young man was! He took a deep breath and pushed back, exhaling and letting James set his own pace, his head dropping to the pillow.
James rocked slowly, the sweat already pearling on his forehead and his trembling arms, the price of his restraint. A whore Alexander might be, but he had shown a certain kindness and understanding, and James saw no reason to hurt him in the pursuit of his own pleasure. It cost nothing but a bit of rapidly dwindling self-control.
He had one hand around Alexander, on the firm stomach just beneath prominent ribs, and he slid it down to curl around Alexander’s prick, teasing and touching in an attempt to give some pleasure in return for his own.
Alexander’s head shot up at the touch, surprised, and he smiled over his shoulder. “Go on, love. Ya won’t hurt me. We’re both slippery as a bucketful o’ eels.” James’ fingers were gentle as Alexander shifted his weight further forward, his back bowed, arse upended and face buried in the stale linen. James thrust in again and he breathed a gasp of pure pleasure, stiffening under the long, pale fingers.
James halted for a moment. It was difficult to concentrate, but he was almost certain he had not caused this reaction with his hand. He pushed in again, and again Alexander gasped, briefly tightening around him. He shifted his weight, balanced on one arm as he slowly fell into a rhythm, which grew harder and faster when Alexander did not protest. His hand continued stroking, in time with his thrusts, without conscious thought. “This is… wonderful.” His breathing was coming shallow and fast.
“Ooh yes! G’wan love. Fuck me good an’ hard as ya like.” Alexander’s voice was muffled in the pillow, his fingers gripping the sheets as each stroke set his head whirling. He was drowning in sensation, his body beginning to quiver, blood roaring in his ears and he stifled a low drawn-out cry as the wave crashed over his head and his insides spasmed, as the pounding coaxed him over the edge a second time.
“God, Alexander!” Taken completely by surprise, James cried out sharply when Alexander convulsed around him, pleasure so searing it was almost pain, forcing his release and leaving him to fall forward, rolling off Alexander with the last bit of strength he seemed to possess. He lay there on his back, eyes wide open, breathing harshly.
Alexander pushed his hair out of his face and looked over at James, his knees giving way. He could feel the slow trickle of cool wetness behind his balls, and reached out to touch James’ cheek with a smile. “Not so very strange, then, is it?”
James blinked once, then forced his eyes to focus. He rolled to his side and shook his head. “No. Not at all. I think I do understand now.” He remembered Alexander spasming beneath him, finding release in a way he had never thought possible to be shared by two men. As he looked up, the shyness seemed to return, tempered by a boyish smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re very sweet, love.” Alexander stroked back the sweat-damp hair from James’ forehead. What was this young man? Not much more than a lad, really, for all his fancy uniform. Alexander idly wondered how long he’d been at sea but stilled his runaway tongue. No sense in getting himself nicked by the Navy, no matter how pleasant the evening. Bad enough he’d been babbling under so lovely a fucking. And hopefully those elegant fingers weren’t guessing too hard at the tell-tale lashmarks on his back. He smiled and kept silent.
“You keep telling me so. Do you tell that to everyone you pick up on the street, or just the blushing virgins?” James closed his eyes and felt the caress, now that his head had cleared, aware that it was impossible that Alexander had always earned his keep like this, nor for long. He was extraordinarily beautiful, but probably not older than James, and the callouses on his fingers spoke of manual work, perhaps even a sailor. He wondered if he had earned enough indulgence to ask, but did, anyway. “You are not doing this for a long time, at least not for money, are you?”
Alexander grinned at him, trying to extricate himself from his pleasant lethargy. “Doin’what I need to, love. Tha’s all.” He tried to think, but his head was deliciously foggy. “And ya’re lovely.” That was no lie. James was not only handsome and enchantingly inexperienced, but so gentle and he’d been treated with much less than gentleness for too long. “How about another drink? Sure you could use a bit of a bracer.” He rolled off the bed and padded to the corner where James had left the bottle and brought it back, uncorking it with his teeth and handing it over.
Although his curiosity was not appeased, James did not question further, knowing evasion when it faced him, and although he was disappointed, he had no right to press the matter. He accepted the bottle and drank deeply, welcoming the sharp burn. He was sated and exhausted, some answers and more questions swirling around in his head.
Alexander saw the querying eyes and bit his lip. “No, to be honest. Haven’t fer that long if that’s what you’re wonderin’.” He could have kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth and covered his nerves with a long swallow.
There was not much more left in the bottle, and James only took a small sip before he gave the remainder to Alexander. He nodded, but otherwise gave no reaction. “Are you a sailor?” He grew more and more certain of that, not only bec
ause of the callouses that perhaps came from handling the rigging, but also because there was something about Alexander that reminded him of the sea.
Alexander toyed with the bottle, his eyes lowered. No sense denying it. Besides, he was more than proud of that. “Yes. Bit of a workin’ shore leave, as it were.” He grinned. It was a lot more than that: it was a right mess, to be honest, what with Bill stuck in that gaol. And these parts it didn’t do to get caught stealing unless one wasn’t particularly attached to one’s right hand. He looked up and smiled at James’ face, soft and young in the dim light.
“I see.” James cupped his chin and kissed him again, again tasting salt and rum. “I thought so.” There were many options. Alexander could be a deserter: many fled to faraway ports, but if he was, it had been long ago, the ridiculously long hair bore testament to that. He could be a merchant sailor out of luck, or one of the many other peculiarities sailing these waters. He did not ask what ship Alexander sailed. It was better he did not know.
Alexander returned the kiss lustily. The young lieutenant kissed as inquisitively as he did everything else, and he found himself truly enjoying it. It wouldn’t be long until he and Bill could ship out of this blistering desert, so temptingly close to shore. A little more and he could get Bill sprung. Then, it was a matter of choosing a ship. Alexander grinned at his own thoughts. Lucky for them, he was familiar enough with the coastline to know exactly where they could go to avoid detection, enslavement or worse. And he would be damned if he was going to sign on to some ungainly foreign merchant vessel. There were plenty of small sloops, perfect for them. He could have left a dozen times over these past weeks, but he was not leaving Bill behind for any amount of coin.