by K. Sterling
“Whatever. I’m done for tonight but we’re not giving up.”
Chapter 21
“I believe this is a straight!” Byron declared as he tossed out the 8, 9, 10, Jack and Queen and Alastair sighed as he fell back in his seat on the other side of the small card table.
“I was afraid I’d have to say this…” He groaned and Byron squealed with excitement and clapped. He wasn’t sure who decided Strip Poker was a wise way to pass the time but he’d yet to get Alastair out of his pants and he was tired of sitting across from him in nothing but his boxers every time they played. He was grateful they decided to play in front of the fire, though. He’d probably die of shock if they played at the bigger table again. “Americans have this expression and I’ve never had an occasion worthy of it,” Alastair added and Byron hummed as he set his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands and stared expectantly.
“Is it something we say when we’re dropping our pants and admitting defeat?” He asked sweetly and Alastair chuckled.
“I often say it when I’m taking off my pants,” he murmured then threw out a pair of 10’s. Then three Aces and Byron swore under his breath as his head dropped and he cradled it in his hands. “Suck it,” Alastair drawled and Byron scowled at him. “Did I use that correctly?” Alastair asked and Byron rolled his eyes as he pushed away from the table as he stood.
“That’s so funny,” he laughed sarcastically then wiggled his eyebrows at Alastair as he hooked his thumbs beneath the waist of his sweatpants. “But can you do it correctly?” He teased then winked before he turned and slowly pushed them down until they were just beneath his ass. He might have lost but he wasn’t going to let Alastair win. “A lot of guys don’t,” he said then looked over his shoulder and slid him a cocky grin. Alastair’s eyes were locked on his ass as he nodded slowly.
“I do,” he breathed and Byron winced then shook his head. He turned away from him then pushed his hands through his hair and let out a dreamy purr as they glided down his chest.
“It’s got to be more than just sucking, right,” he mused as his head fell back and he let out an exaggerated, breathless gasp as he pretended to stroke his hard-on through his pants. He wasn’t ready to be in that much pain. Byron bit his lip and glanced back coyly and Alastair was leaning in his seat and his neck craned as he tried to see what he was doing.
“More?” He huffed as his chest heaved and Byron’s tongue dragged across his lips before he nodded.
“Licking is so vital,” he said as he lowered the front of his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock fall out. He bounced on his toes a little, making it bounce and swing and he heard Alastair shifting in his chair. Byron pursed his lips and sucked in a loud breath as he tilted his head and pretended to examine his erection. “Riiiiiight here. That’s my favorite spot,” he murmured and he heard a strained, stifled groan. Byron bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “But I’m sure you know exactly what to do,” he said breezily as he snapped the waist of his boxers back in place then hopped and kicked until his sweatpants puddled at his feet then stepped out of them. When he turned Alastair was pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering a string of inaudible grumbled curses. Serves you right, Byron decided. “Good game,” he said as he cocked his thumb at the card table. “I think we could both use more wine,” he added as he passed and Alastair’s arm shot out and his hand locked around Byron’s wrist.
“Is that what you want?” He asked as he pulled. Alastair’s arm tightened around Byron as he fell onto his lap. Byron fell into their kiss. Their lips fused as Alastair’s tongue swirled and thrust hungrily, destroying the last of Byron’s good sense and self-control. His arm hooked around Alastair’s neck as he swung his leg over his hips and bucked against him.
“I want to see the tree this chair was made from because I don’t think it’s strong enough for what’s about to happen,” he said as ground hard, crushing their cocks against each other as he writhed.
“Fuck… Byron,” Alastair panted against his collarbone. His hands tightened around Byron’s ass as his tongue slid up his neck and the heat was startling. It rolled off Alastair, washing over Byron and making sweat push from his pores as his skin burned and his blood boiled. Alastair’s fingertips dug into the cleft of Byron’s ass as he pulled him hard against him and rocked his hips. He picked up a smooth rhythm as he sucked on Byron’s tongue and a desperate, hungry ache flared in his passage. And the relief was nearly euphoric. It was finally happening, there was no way Alastair could be that cruel. The large, heavy throb of Alastair’s erection was too real and too perfect and too demanding to be denied. Alastair needed to bury his cock as deep in Byron’s ass as much as Byron needed to swallow every inch of it. He didn’t even care that he’d need a throat transplant and a new ass once it was over. He was ready.
“Yes. Fuck Byron,” he urged as he pushed his hands between them and into the front of Alastair’s pajama pants. He was long enough to fit in both of his hands and almost as thick as his wrists and Alastair shuddered as his head fell back. “Fuck Byron really, really hard after you’ve punched the shit out of his tonsils with your cock,” he begged and Alastair gasped as he reached for Byron’s face.
“Fuck Byron,” he whispered as if he was giving himself permission. His fingers twisted in his hair and his lips were hard and possessive as their tongues dueled. Byron was absolutely fine with getting a lot rougher.
“Right now,” he added impatiently as he stroked and Alastair nodded as he lapped at his lips.
“Now,” he whispered and Byron’s nose wrinkled as he looked toward his backpack. It was just on the table but he’d have to separate himself from Alastair. He opened his mouth to tell Alastair not to move or even blink but he was looking at the top of the stairs when Byron turned to him.
“What?” He asked as he traced Alastair’s ear with his tongue then sucked on his earlobe.
“Stop!” Alastair cried as his hands locked around Byron’s shoulders. The air caught in Byron’s throat and his eyes almost fell out of their sockets.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he said as he searched Alastair’s face for any sign of humor. Alastair shut his eyes and shook his head.
“I’m sorry. I let this go too far,” he admitted and there was so much regret and pain in his eyes and his voice as he stared back at Byron longingly. It made absolutely no sense. Byron glared as hard as he could as he slowly loosened his grip around Alastair’s shaft then set his hands on the arms of the chair and stood.
“I think we’re done playing,” Byron declared as he turned and snatched his sweatpants off the floor before he stormed around the table. He stopped and stepped into his pants then threw himself at his bed. Alastair quietly turned down the lights and put the grate in front of the fire before he crawled onto his bed. Byron rolled onto his side, turning his back to Alastair. The silence stretched and Byron started to get drowsy until Alastair laughed.
“Punch the shit out of your tonsils?” He asked and Byron’s lips pulled into a petulant frown.
“The heart wants what it wants,” he grumbled and Alastair sighed.
“Byron…”
“Leave me alone.”
Chapter 22
“Byron!” Alastair roared as he pushed open the kitchen door but everything was dark and quiet. The Aga was cold and the burners were still covered and dusty as he hurried past it and into the housekeeper’s quarters. He followed the sound of running water and his nerves settled as he reached for the bathroom door. He pushed it open then blinked in confusion. The bathroom was empty and the tub was filthy and coated in dust and chunks of plaster.
A child laughed and Alastair shook his head as he backed out of the bathroom. He turned and ran from the housekeeper’s room and through the kitchen. His heart thundered in his ears as he passed the dining room then skidded into the hall. It was empty and the furniture was shrouded in covers and drifts of cobwebs.
“Alastair! H
elp!” Byron cried and it bounced off the walls but Alastair couldn’t tell where it had come from. He spun as he searched but everything was dark as rain slammed against the windows.
“Byron!” He screamed then froze when thunder and lightning filled the night. Everything became cold and his heart stopped beating. His fingers and toes were numb and goosebumps rushed down his arms as his skin became clammy. Alastair prayed as his eyes stung and his nose burned as it ran. “Please!” He begged as he turned and his legs buckled as another flash of lightning flooded the hall with white light. Byron was limp and pale as he hung from a long, thick rope. His mouth was slack as his empty, cloudy gaze met Alastair’s. “Noooooo!”
“I’m here, Alastair!” Byron whispered as his arms tightened around him. Alastair couldn’t breathe and he didn’t know where he was but Byron felt real and warm and so solid as he held onto him.
“Stay!” Alastair begged as his hands spread and pulled at his body. “Please don’t leave!” He gasped as his chest heaved. “I won’t move, just don’t go,” he promised as he buried his face in the corner of Byron’s neck and pulled in as much of his scent as he could.
“I won’t go anywhere,” Byron promised as his fingers swept through Alastair’s hair, making him drowsier and he shook his head.
“I swear, I won’t touch you. Just don’t leave me,” he urged as he held Byron tighter and fought to stay conscious.
“What are you talking about? You can touch me, I won’t go anywhere,” Byron repeated and Alastair sniffed hard as he pulled in a shuddering breath.
“Every time something good happens, especially in my dreams, the house takes you away from me. I’m scared, Byron!” He admitted as he looked at the gallery. “What if this house hurts you, or it makes me sick and I try to hurt you?” He asked shakily and Byron’s jaw fell as he looked around.
“Is that what you’re afraid of?” He asked then frowned at Alastair. “Why? How is the house going to hurt me?” He asked carefully and Alastair swallowed the knot of terror and grief then shook his head.
“I don’t know. I have these dreams…” He squeezed his eyes shut as Byron’s dead, swinging body filled his vision. “The house is trying to kill me then I wake up and you’re here and everything’s fine. We’re fine and something beautiful happens,” he stopped as his face became warm.
“Like romantic beautiful, or dirty beautiful?” Byron teased and Alastair felt a lot warmer and a smile tugged at his lips as the world became more solid around him.
“Both,” he admitted then breathed through a tremor of sorrow. “It’s amazing and hot and so perfect. Then, you’re gone and I can’t find you. Everything’s gone and the house is still locked and empty. I can’t find you until I get to the stairs and you’re there.” Alastair’s voice broke as he pointed at the gallery. “You’re dead and it’s so hard for me to stop seeing you,” he said and Byron shushed him as his lips covered his.
“This isn’t a dream. I’m not going anywhere and the house can’t hurt us,” he swore as his lips clung to Alastair’s.
“I want you, Byron,” he groaned as he pulled at his shirt, shoulders and arms, desperate to get closer. “I need you but I’m afraid I’ll go mad like the rest of them and hurt you because I’m sick,” he confessed as he licked and nibbled. Byron pulled his lips free and his brows fell as he searched Alastair’s eyes.
“Why would you worry about that? There’s nothing wrong with you,” he insisted and Alastair knew he was right but a cold ache settled in his gut.
“Sometimes, I can feel it scratching at the base of my skull. I swear, every time it’s silent, I hear a child laugh and I want to scream. Or laugh with it. I know it’s just this house but I can’t break enough things to make it stop,” he said and Byron groaned as his hands closed around Alastair’s face and their lips crashed. He was hungry and frantic as his tongue tangled with Alastair’s and his hands tugged and pulled at his shirt.
“I’ll make it stop,” he panted as he pushed Alastair’s shirt up his chest then whisked it over his head.
“Please, make it stop,” Alastair breathed as he fell back and pulled Byron with him.
They twisted and shifted as they pushed and tore at clothes until they were naked and urgent. Byron became impatient and demanding, he rolled Alastair onto his back and sucked on his lip before he slid down his body. His hands glided over Alastair’s skin possessively, spreading heat and need. Alastair jumped and hissed at the searing slick of Byron’s tongue as it washed up the length of his erection.
“Fuck, your cock is so perfect,” Byron murmured before his hands and lips wrapped around it and Alastair moaned as tendrils of desire and pleasure flicked at his nerves and his body became hotter and tighter. He licked his lips and tried to make them work as he rose on his elbows and lost his breath. His body throbbed with lust as he watched Byron’s gorgeous lips and tongue bathing his erection.
“I’m going to kill myself if I wake up before this is over,” he huffed as he fell back on the bed and fisted his hands in his hair. He whimpered when Byron released his cock and climbed over his body then jumped as teeth scraped his nipple. He shook his head as he licked and purred.
“This isn’t a dream and I’m not stopping until you beg for mercy,” he warned as his lips washed across Alastair’s collarbone. Byron hummed as he pulled away and reached for the edge of the bed. Alastair gasped in panic as he wrapped his arms around him.
“Don’t go!” He cried and Byron hushed him soothingly.
“I’m just getting my backpack. I have condoms and lube,” he said and Alastair’s eyes widened as he fell back on the bed. He curled an arm behind his head as he watched Byron hunt for them.
“You brought condoms and lubricant?” He asked accusatively and Byron slid him a wicked grin. It doused the last of Alastair’s nerves and made his cock twitch.
“I thought I might sneak into town if things got a little slow around here,” he said then winked as he flourished a long strip of condoms and a large pump bottle. Alastair gave him a flat look.
“I think you over estimated the prospects, I don’t think there are that many gay men in town,” he stated dryly and Byron’s smile widened.
“Why do you think I brought the big bottle? I was prepared to entertain myself,” he said and Alastair’s nose wrinkled.
“While I was here?” He asked and he wasn’t sure why he was slightly offended at the thought. Byron shrugged.
“You gotta sleep sometime,” he said then laughed. “But I’ve been good. I only touched myself when I touched you,” he said silkily as he crawled over Alastair. He groaned as he pulled Byron’s lips to his.
“God, you were so good,” he huffed as his heart raced and he became dizzy with desire and anticipation. “I need you to fuck me,” Alastair begged then didn’t bother to hide his disappointment when Byron shook his head again. “You only bottom?” He clarified and Byron laughed as his teeth dug into his neck.
“I switch but I really love getting fucked,” he panted into Alastair’s ear as he straddled his thighs. “All I’ve been able to think about is riding you,” Byron breathed against his skin as he pushed his hands up Alastair’s chest. Alastair nodded quickly as he rose and stretched toward Byron’s lips.
“You should do that now,” he decided as his tongue flicked at his lips and he felt them curve before Byron pushed off Alastair’s chest and sat on his heels.
Alastair trembled with awe and overwhelming lust as he watched Byron’s hands as he stretched a condom down the length of his erection. He hissed as his shaft was thoroughly coated with lube, Byron took his time, winding Alastair’s nerves tight. He was strikingly beautiful and it was all too good to be real as he rose over Alastair. He was mesmerizing and Alastair held his breath as Byron lowered and slowly took his pulsing length into the exquisite tightness of his body. His head fell back and a fragile gasp slipped from his lips. Alastair sat up and pressed his hands to Byron’s back as his tongue
slid up his throat. Byron’s fingers twisted in his hair and they both moaned as he rose on his knees. Byron’s name became an endless prayer that poured from Alastair as he rode him with a smooth, steady rhythm that matched the pounding of their hearts.
Alastair was always very careful when it came to sex but he knew how to extract every bit of pleasure he could from a man’s body. Even if his partner wasn’t that good, he knew how to take his time and let pleasure build and make it good for both of them. He wasn’t selfish and he took a lot of pride in his performance. But Byron was completely enthralling and Alastair was in ecstasy as they rocked, writhed and ground against each other. It became almost spiritual and astoundingly sensual as their bodies became slick and tangled.
Byron pushed against Alastair’s chest and he fell back on the bed, spellbound as he watched him stroke his long, thick, glistening erection. Alastair’s only regret was that he couldn’t taste it as he watched Byron’s clever fingers twist and slide around his cock as he rode him harder and faster.
“Fuck, you’re sooooo good, Alastair,” Byron moaned as his hips rolled, grinding against Alastair, taking him deeper. Alastair nodded as his hands swept down Byron’s chest. He pushed Byron’s hands away and he gasped and arched as Alastair’s hand wrapped around his length. “Yes! I’m close!” He cried.
“Christ! You’re so tight and I’m going to come so hard,” Alastair groaned as he tugged at Byron’s heavy, throbbing erection and bucked beneath him. His sack tightened and pressure pushed up the length of his shaft as Byron jumped and froze. He pulled in a long, deep breath then screamed as his body jerked then convulsed. Alastair swore as heat and pleasure swelled and his body shattered. Byron hissed and arched as ropes of scalding come splashed on Alastair’s chest and poured over his fingers. Excruciatingly sublime, gripping heat pulled at his cock and Alastair’s eyes rolled as liquid heat and bliss flooded the condom causing him to shiver and twist on the bed.