Testing Lysander

by L. M. Somerton

  “We need to pack plenty of lube for the trip,” he mused.

  “Don’t you think we’re going to have other things on our minds than sex? You know…ruthless terrorists, risk of death…” Brock’s laugh sounded a little hysterical.

  “Plenty of sex is essential. It’ll ease the stress. It’s a requirement of the mission. Did I not mention that?”

  “No you didn’t.” Brock yanked the crushed pillows from beneath his hips and tossed them onto the floor.

  “It’s in the small print, alongside the line that says you have to do as you’re told.” Kyle stretched, enjoying the burn of well-worked muscles. “Now, much as I’d like to keep you tied to my bed for the rest of the day, we need to get up. There’s a lot of planning to get done.”

  Brock shrugged. “Well, you keep telling me that you’re in charge… I think you should take the lead and warm up the shower.” He rolled onto his stomach and rested his head on his folded arms.

  Kyle couldn’t resist. Brock’s smooth ass practically yelled ‘Spank me!’ He planted a couple of smacks across the curve of rounded cheeks and laughed at Brock’s offended yelp.

  “There’s room in the shower for both of us. I’ll even let you scrub my back if you’re good.”

  “If I’m good?” Brock protested. “You’re the one leading me astray.”

  Kyle grabbed an ankle and yanked Brock to the edge of the bed. “Get up, or I may be tempted to tow you to the bathroom by your dick.”

  “All right, all right! I’m coming.”

  “Well, you will be soon enough. Get that pretty pink behind into the bathroom. I’m feeling the urge to taste you again.”

  That got Brock moving. He scrambled off the bed and ran the few paces across the landing to the bathroom. By the time Kyle caught up to him, the water was running and Brock’s gorgeous body was beneath the spray. For a moment Kyle just stood and watched as Brock ran his hands through his wet hair. A little pang of self-doubt squeezed Kyle’s heart. Brock was gorgeous. He could have any man he wanted. Why the hell would he fall for a scarred, possessive bastard like me? Maybe his responses, which seemed so unstudied and natural, were just a reaction to an extreme situation. It wasn’t as if they’d just met in a bar or at a dinner party. Kyle had invaded Brock’s home, cuffed him to a chair and threatened his family. He’d forced him to go through a risky test of his abilities and he’d gotten hurt as a result. Kyle could clearly see the tracks of scabbed cuts that marred the pristine skin of Brock’s arm and thigh, left there by the British Army’s brutal barbed wire.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” Brock asked.

  Kyle looked into Brock’s clear blue eyes and saw no doubt. He allowed himself a little hope. Happy ever after wasn’t on the cards for him but maybe happy for now was good enough for a while and if, when this whole affair was over, Brock ran for the hills… Well, Kyle wouldn’t blame him. He stepped into the shower and gripped Brock’s hips, pulling him close to his body. Brock came willingly, pressing against him. Kyle couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to another human being, let alone a man as desirable as Brock. He dropped to his knees and caught the shiny droplet of water hanging from the end of Brock’s dick with his tongue. Without hesitation, carefully covering his teeth with his lips, he took Brock’s length into his mouth.

  “Oh God!” Brock staggered a little and balanced himself by leaning back against the tiles.

  Kyle kept a firm hold of Brock’s hips, holding him in place. Kyle might’ve been the one on his knees but he still controlled the situation. He sucked long and hard, relishing the clean, salty taste of Brock’s skin. Determined not to gag, he paced himself, taking Brock a little deeper, sucking and swirling his tongue in lazy circles. Under Kyle’s ministrations, Brock’s half-hard dick gradually stiffened once more. Through the pounding water, Kyle could hear Brock’s sweet moans. Beneath his fingertips, Brock’s muscles quivered. Kyle would have stayed there, quite happily, for some time but Brock tugged on his hair.

  “Have to come… Please…”

  Kyle grinned around his mouth full of cock. He dipped his head and the blunt crown of Brock’s dick hit the back of his throat. He swallowed. Brock gasped and came with a hot gush into Kyle’s mouth. Kyle swallowed again and again, milking Brock dry, catching every drop of his lover’s warm seed. Only when Kyle was certain that Brock was utterly sated did he let Brock’s now-drooping penis slip from between his lips. He gave the tip one last kiss then got to his feet. Brock immediately fell into his arms.

  “Legs don’t work… You’ve turned me to jelly.”

  “Good. That was the general idea so I must have done something right.” Kyle chuckled. He held Brock up with an arm around his waist and used his free hand to squeeze some gel from the bottle hanging from the shower rail. The scent of lemons replaced the aroma of fresh cum. Kyle soaped Brock down, paying careful attention to his pretty cock and balls. Brock groaned pitifully.

  “Stop! It’s so sensitive down there. You’ll get me hard again…”

  “Why would that be a problem? Anyway, it’s my go. Getting you off has made my dick jealous.”

  “I’m impressed by your recovery time,” Brock said. “For an old guy, you have considerable stamina.”

  “I’m not that much older than you, cheeky brat.” Kyle moaned as Brock gave his burgeoning erection a few lazy strokes before palming his balls and giving them a gentle squeeze.

  “Let me help you along a bit.” Brock rubbed the sensitive skin behind Kyle’s sac.

  Kyle groped for the waterproof lube and a foil-wrapped condom. “Can you open this?” He pushed the little square package into Brock’s hand. There was some cursing as Brock fought the slippery foil, but then the rubber was free and Brock managed to roll it onto Kyle’s erection on only the third attempt.

  “We need to get tested. Want you in me without the barrier,” Brock muttered. “It’ll feel amazing. I know it will, and it’ll be a damn sight less frustrating than grappling with condoms.”

  For a few seconds, Kyle couldn’t move. He’d never barebacked with anyone. That Brock wanted to take that step with him meant everything. All the connotations of trust, monogamy and commitment flashed through his mind. His need to fill his lover became desperate. Clumsily he got the cap off the lube and managed to squeeze a dollop into his hand before dropping the tube into the shower tray.

  “That’s going to go everywhere…” Brock commented.

  “So long as it gets to the important places,” Kyle said roughly. He slicked his cock and swiveled Brock in his arms. “Not too sore for this, are you?” The need to take care of Brock overrode even Kyle’s desperate urge to claim him again. Brock’s garbled response was unintelligible but he shook his head, sending droplets of warm water flying everywhere. Kyle got the message loud and clear.

  Penetration was smooth and easy as Brock’s body welcomed him.

  “Still tight. You fit me like a glove.”

  Brock bent forward limply, letting Kyle control the pace.

  “Feels so good…”

  “Feels fantastic. Love that you’re all stretched for me… I’m not hurting you, am I?” Kyle kept up a steady thrusting rhythm.

  “No. Need more. Harder.”

  “You really like it rough, don’t you?” Kyle pistoned his hips in and out—piercing Brock to the core. He imagined what it would feel like without the rubber. There was no question that it would be even better. Fueled by the thought of taking Brock with nothing to separate them, Kyle was overwhelmed with the sudden ferocity of his orgasm. His hold on Brock’s hips tightened. In a day or so, Brock would have ten small bruises marking his flesh and Kyle liked the idea of that. Brock needed his marks. He thrust a couple more times, muscles corded, spine bowed, wringing the last tremors of orgasm from his body. He brushed his hand up Brock’s slippery skin and tweaked a nipple, hard. Brock grabbed his dick with a moan.

  “Can’t come again… Can’t.” But he did.

  Kyle’s cock softened a
nd he slipped from Brock’s grasping channel. The water raining down on them had grown tepid and Brock shivered in his arms. Kyle helped him from the shower and wrapped him in a warm towel before disposing of the condom. Brock rubbed at himself half-heartedly. Kyle chuckled. “You’re almost asleep.” He slung a smaller towel around his hips and helped Brock get dry. “Can you manage to get yourself dressed?”

  Brock scowled. “Funny. This is all your fault. You’ve worn me out.”

  Kyle crooked an eyebrow. “My pleasure.”

  Brock’s lips twitched and he smiled. He ducked his head and looked at Kyle from under his lashes, his creamy cheeks flushed with pink. He exited the room, leaving Kyle with the urge to laugh out loud from sheer delight.

  * * * *

  Brock stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. He leaned against the cabinets and hoped that the trembling in his thigh muscles receded soon. He didn’t need any reason for Kyle to keep teasing him.

  “Blushing like a fucking lovesick teenager. What the hell is wrong with me? The man’s a pain in the ass.” He shifted a little, enjoying the ache. “Literally.” He sighed. “You’re falling for him, Brock. Falling hard. Dangerous territory.”

  “Talking to yourself? Should I be worried?”

  Brock jumped as Kyle’s voice sounded from the door. He chuckled nervously. “Maybe. You have to admit that I must be a little mad… Agreeing to photograph South American terrorists.”

  “Certifiable.” Kyle reached into a cupboard and brought out a couple of plates. His tight T-shirt rose a little. Even that tiny glimpse of bare skin was enough to distract Brock from his task.

  “If you hadn’t… I mean if… Oh hell, never mind,” Brock stumbled over the words.

  “Talk to me, Brock. It’s okay. You can ask me anything.”

  Kyle’s gaze was so steady and unblinking, his voice so calm. It gave Brock confidence to put voice to his thoughts.

  “If you didn’t…like me, would you have gone through with the whole charade of forcing me to do the job in Colombia? Would you have left me thinking that my family was under threat if I didn’t comply?”

  “I have a job to do, Brock, and it’s an important one,” Kyle replied. “You and I are only a small part of this operation. It’s taken a very long time to set this up, a great deal of time and money. My employers are demanding people and they don’t like excuses so yes… I would have gone through with it.”

  Brock leaned on the counter, needing the support.

  “I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I won’t lie.” Kyle took a couple of steps back. “Not anymore. I needed you to agree to the mission and I took a chance that you would do it willingly if you knew a bit more about it. I shouldn’t have done that. It went against protocol and all my training—but I had a strong feeling about you. If that feeling hadn’t been there, I would have let you think that you had no choice.”

  “I don’t know how that makes me feel. I suppose deep down I knew that would be your answer and I don’t want you to pretend otherwise. I think I just want to be more important to you than the job.” Brock spooned fresh ground beans into a cafetière and poured boiling water onto them. He set out a couple of mugs. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters.”

  Brock flinched as Kyle pressed against his back and massaged his shoulders.

  “You are very important to me and not just because I need you. When this is all over, perhaps you’ll let me show you?”

  “When this is all over, we could both be dead,” Brock commented.

  Kyle worked Brock’s muscles harder. “Either one of us could walk under a bus tomorrow. Nobody can predict the future—I wish I could—but believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  “I want to get to know you better, Kyle. This has all happened so fast. If we do make it back, I want to start again. Take it slow.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll look forward to our first date.” Kyle stopped his massage and pulled Brock into his arms. “You do put out on a first date, don’t you?”

  “Are you suggesting I’m a slut?”

  “Only for me and only when I tell you to be.”

  Brock squirmed, trying to escape Kyle’s grip.

  “Hold still.”

  Brock responded to the order instinctively. He relaxed and rested his head on Kyle’s shoulder. Fuck it. I finally found the perfect man for me, but in a couple of weeks he could be gone. This could end thousands of miles from home, with a bullet or a knife. “I shouldn’t give in to this.”

  “To what?” Kyle asked.

  “To you. I’m not stupid, Kyle. You’re not just dominant in the bedroom. You want a submissive.”

  “That shouldn’t scare you… You’re a natural sub.”

  “Maybe…”

  “Maybe nothing. You are a responsive, stunning submissive. You just haven’t found the right man to bring it out of you—until now.”

  Brock tilted his head back and looked into Kyle’s dark eyes. There wasn’t that much of a height difference between them, but in Kyle’s arms Brock always felt more delicate. Kyle was much more muscular than Brock and Brock always felt that Kyle was holding himself back, aware of his strength and that he could hurt Brock by accident.

  “It’s true my previous relationships haven’t been particularly satisfying, but that doesn’t mean I think of myself as a submissive.”

  “It’s not something you have to think about, sweetheart. Just accept it. It’s who you are, not a decision you have to make. Your previous boyfriends”—Kyle sounded as if he had a nasty taste in his mouth when he said the word ‘boyfriends’—“were undeserving of your grace. Power exchange is not something to be played at or taken lightly. It’s the ultimate act of trust and it honors me that you place your body into my hands.”

  Brock had to admit that his world had never felt more right than when he allowed Kyle to control him. “Wait a minute… How the hell do you know about my previous relationships?” He pushed Kyle away.

  Kyle scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Choosing you for this job wasn’t a decision taken overnight. I followed you for months and researched every aspect of your life. How do you think I knew where to find you at your brother’s house? I know all about you—the awards, the front cover stories, the respect that other professional photographers have for you. I even know all about the crazy risks you take to get the perfect shot. The test I put you through on Salisbury Plain was a walk in the park compared to your day job.”

  Brock frowned. “Every time I put it out of my head that this is just a job to you, something reminds me. That’s not going to change. It’s probably best that I accept things for the way they are. I’m not going to build my hopes up about a future beyond Colombia. I’m just going to take each day as it comes.”

  “If that’s the way you want it…”

  “It’s the way it has to be.” Heart heavy, Brock went back to making coffee and breakfast.

  Chapter Five

  With breakfast done and the dishes tidied away, Brock followed Kyle through to the lounge-diner. He pushed down his sadness about Kyle’s job being such a wall between them and focused on the mission.

  “We have a lot of work to do today,” Kyle said. “To begin with, I want you to take me through all the stages of expedition preparation.” He settled into an armchair and sipped from a second mug of coffee. “Oh God, that’s good!”

  Brock shook his head. “You and coffee… Anyone would think you were sipping on ambrosia.”

  “But I am. Didn’t you know that? Dear me, Lysander Brock, your education has been sorely lacking in so many important areas. All that honey stuff is nonsense. The Greek gods drank coffee. Did you know that ambrosia was supposed to confer longevity?” Kyle leered.

  “I think that referred to long life, not… Oh my God! Why am I even engaging in this conversation? Can we please get back to reality and talk about Colombia?”

  “It wasn’t me who changed the su
bject.” Kyle had another sip of his drink. “I need to know all the details about how you plan an expedition, however boring or insignificant they might seem to you. I’ll be traveling with you as your assistant and, if I’m to make a credible attempt at passing as that, I have to sound like I know what I’m talking about.”

  “Fine. Get comfortable then because this may take a while.” Brock took the seat opposite Kyle. He didn’t want to get too close because he would end up mesmerized by Kyle’s eyes, or his denim-hugged thighs, or… Fuck. Concentrate, you idiot. Try to keep the life-threatening situation in your head. Brock caught Kyle smirking at him, looking as if he knew exactly what Brock was thinking about. Brock sighed.

  “I’ll try to go through this in roughly chronological order.” He paused and sorted through the stages of preparation in his head. “As the photographer on any expedition—whether mine or someone else’s—I have three main responsibilities. The first is to make a comprehensive visual record of the entire expedition from preparation through to the time we return home.” He counted off on his fingers. “Second is to produce visually stunning images that satisfy my sponsors and that suit their publications. Have you ever even read National Geographic?”

  “Of course,” Kyle replied. “My dentist’s waiting room has a whole stack of them.”

  “You might want to buy a couple of recent editions to read on the plane.” Brock let sarcasm flood his voice.

  “Sweetheart, I’ve read almost every magazine you’ve ever had anything published in. Research, remember? What’s the third thing?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You said the photographer—that is you—has three responsibilities. You’ve only given me two.”

  Brock rolled his eyes. “Oh. The third is to work in a manner that respects the peoples, cultures and environments the expedition encounters—to ensure that other photographers coming after me don’t have a hard time because of something I’ve done.”

  “Hmm. Not sure you’re going to be able to fulfill that last one,” Kyle muttered.