by Lee Brazil
The highwayman groaned, took himself in hand and climbed up onto the bed. Randall jerked his chin, indicating the man should come closer.
He hesitated, "I'm not sure I want to give you that much power."
"Power?" Randall snorted. Again he rattled the bed frame, jerking with all his might against his bonds. "You've done an excellent job of incapacitating me. How about if I promise not to bite?" He flashed his white teeth in a taunting grin.
A sharply drawn breath was his response, then the man crawled up the bed and tapped his chin with the damp head of his prick. "Bite me at your own peril, Gretton."
Licking the swollen head of his prick, Randall let an eyebrow show his surprise. "You do know me, then."
"I know you're a Gretton. I don't know which one, save that you are not Lord Peregrine of White Hall."
"Randall," He blew across the tip, enjoying the shiver of response it garnered, before licking around the knob, then working his way down the thick vein to the furry balls that hung beneath.
"Randy Randall, I might have known." A blunt fingered hand cupped his nape, squeezed him in warning. "Don't tease, Randy."
Snorting at the command as much as the despised nickname, Randall opened his mouth and sucked one ball in, laving it with his tongue for a long moment. Releasing it, he drew in the other, and gave it the same treatment. Nuzzling down further, he licked the delicate skin behind the balls, caught a bit of it in his teeth, just to remind the other man that arms bound or not, he wasn't completely at his mercy.
"Damnation!" His head was roughly jerked away, and Randall smirked up into his captor's furious gaze.
"Might I know your name, sir highwayman?"
"I'm not certain that would be wise," The man growled, swiping the tip of his cock across Randall's lips, leaving a trail of slick liquid that Randall couldn't resist licking away.
"It's fair enough that I know the name of the man who spends his seed in my gullet, don't you think?"
The highwayman tilted his head thoughtfully to the side. He continued squeezing out glistening drops of pre-ejaculate and painting Randall's lips with them. "Oh? And were you of the same opinion when I sucked you dry at Gravesend's masquerade a sennight ago?"
Stealing another lick of the ripe prick, Randall answered. "I thought I knew who you were. You should have told me you were not the man I was seeking." Not that he cared overmuch. Terence was a fine fellow, but notoriously fickle in his affections and a bit light in the brainpan.
"And pass up the chance for what you were so anxious to offer? I'm not a fool, whatever you might think." The highwayman rubbed his thumb over Randall's lips, and Randal parted them willingly, flicking his tongue over it, savoring the salt of his skin, the rough texture. "That's it." The thumb was withdrawn and Randall's eyes widened as it was replaced by the thick prick, swollen and needy.
He let a wordless murmur escape and opened his mouth wider, stretching his lips around the girth of the man's rod. It sank ever deeper, slowly, carefully. Randall swallowed, worked the thick seed-bearing vein with his tongue. He did his best to encourage the man to fuck his mouth and it seemed that his message was as easily received as the smugglers' signals on a clear cloudless night.
Wrapping his hand around the length that wouldn't fit comfortably in Randall's mouth, the highway began thrusting smoothly, barely bumping the back of Randall's throat on each inward lunge, sliding out until his crown rested on Randall's lower lip then surging forward again.
While he appreciated the consideration, Randall found he disliked the control that allowed the man to be so careful, so precise in his movements. He set himself to using every wile he could with his hands bound to strip away that control, to unleash the power in the stalwart frame. He wanted the highwayman so lost to lust that he'd forget to be careful.
His tongue teased the slit of the man's prick on every withdrawal, flicked across the rim and swiped every seeping drop from it. He cautiously set his lower jaw to allow his teeth to scrape delicately against that pulsing vein, dug in just a bit to increase the pressure when he felt the prick swell even further in his mouth. And he sucked. Softly, strongly, slowly, quickly, until a frustrated growl presaged a flurry of thrusts that bumped hard against the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, reflexively.
The swallow was apparently all the further stimulus the highwaymen needed, because Randall found his gullet awash in thick creamy seed as the highwayman jerked and lurched, finally catching himself from collapsing on Randall with a hand on the headboard.
Allowing a satisfied smile to cross his face, Randall writhed restlessly on the bed. "If you have a minute, might I trouble you for some...assistance?" He smiled winsomely. "I'm at a disadvantage, and the ache in my balls just officially outstripped the one in my arms..." He trailed off, eyeing his leaking prick hopefully, then glancing back into the highwayman's laughing eyes.
"You're a cocky bastard, aren't you?" He sounded breathless, still beneath the hood.
"Alternatively, you could untie me, and I'll take care of the matter myself."
A snort of amusement stirred the domino. "No doubt, you could."
Randal huffed in displeasure. "Please," he muttered. "I'm not too proud to beg, in this instance."
"Are you not? Then very definitely you are a Gretton of a different sort than the lordly Peregrine."
"You've some grudge against my brother; I can see that, but I assure you, keeping me on the edge like this will not avenge you well on him. He's the most sexless creature I've had the misfortune to encounter."
That thoughtless jibe at Peregrine's much vaunted prudery garnered a fulsome laugh that even in the midst of his unassuaged lust made Randall warm a bit with a sense of accomplishment.
The highwayman slung a leg over Randall's middle then slid down so he lay full length alongside him, one thick, hard-muscled thigh between Randall's legs. Randall groaned at the full pressure on his thickened prick, couldn't help humping up against the rough furred thigh.
Hot breath stirred the cropped hair at his ear, a warm wet tongue traced a path from his ear lobe to the tender spot where neck met shoulder. Randall shuddered, rubbing his prick against that thigh, feeling sparks shoot from his neck to his groin and pool in the center of his belly.
Letting his eyes close, he inhaled deeply, the scents of leather and seed stirring his senses further. Each tremor of pleasure seemed to build the fire in his belly, stoking it. His ballocks tightened further, drawing up hard. His breath came heavy.
Harsh fingers twisted his nipple, and Randall cried out. He hadn't expected the touch, but the little nub hardened in response, and sent more ripples of sensation to stoke his lust. His hips pumped up, rubbing his prick furiously against the press of that thigh.
Randall choked back a cry, as his body stiffened, thighs straining. Each brush of wiry hair over his sensitized crown made him shudder. The highwayman sank his teeth into the tender spot he'd been licking and sucking and Randall bucked furiously. A few creamy drops of seed splattered his stomach, followed by a warm gush of fluid that both eased and teased.
Another spurt, and another and he heaved a great breath, relaxing into the mattress as tension melted away with his release.
Chapter Six
"What the hell was I thinking?" You weren't, he chided himself. You wanted to find Robin Hood again, and when he stumbled into your path, you took advantage. Now, this mess had to be cleaned up, without murder or bodily harm.
Jason watched Randall sleep regretfully. What to do now? He brushed the brown hair back from the man's brow. "Never should have brought him here." He muttered. "What am I going to do with you?" He tore his gaze from the man beside him to stare at the wall opposite.
"Well, you might begin by telling me your name."
Startled, he swung his head around to face Gretton. "Randall, I thought you asleep."
"I slept the whole time you were gone, then through the night again. I merely closed my eyes to catch my breath." His gaze followed each
lithe muscle as Randall stretched, joints popping. A wince crossed his brow and Jason realized the man's arms had to hurt, pulled over his head like that.
"If I untie you, will you give me your word of honor not to escape?" He held his breath, not sure what response he hoped for.
"You'd accept my word?"
Nodding shortly, Jason explained, "I am somewhat acquainted with your brother. I cannot fathom that anyone raised in the same household as he would be less than honorable."
A flash of some unknown emotion brightened the blue eyes for a second, then Randal spoke. "You have my word of honor that I will not attempt to escape."
Jason scooted up against the headboard and untied the cravat, one hand on his pillow, the easier to reach his weapon. Accustomed to dealing with men who would say anything to get the information they wanted, indeed, being one of those men himself, he was fairly certain Gretton would keep his word, but better safe than dead.
Gretton watched him thoughtfully, a faint frown marring the smooth brow. He rubbed his wrists, reddened from the tightness of the bindings. "You still haven't told me your name."
"I'd like to, but...I have business in the area that isn't quite legitimate, you might say. It wouldn't be safe for you to know my name." For either of us, he added silently.
Randall sat up, keeping Jason's attention as he twisted and stretched his muscles some more. "How can knowing your name harm me? It's not like I could describe you to the magistrate, is it?"
The mask had served its purpose well enough on that score. "No, that's true enough. All right. You may call me Danny." It was only half a lie, after all, he soothed the tiny part of him that protested.
"Danny," Randall tested the name. "Are you hiding blue eyes and red hair behind that mask Danny boy?"
He laughed and cut off Jason's protest with an out flung hand. "No, no. I'm just teasing. My sister would tell you I'm a terrible tease, I understand you cannot reveal more of yourself to me. I must return home, though. My sister is probably frantic, my superiors searching for me. I had an appointment this afternoon, and if I do not attend it, my absence will be remarked in quarters that will be highly uncomfortable for you."
"I have an idea about that." Jason admitted. "But you might not like it."
A dark brow rose in challenge. "Try me."
"I could knock you out again and return you to the place I found you. Regretfully, I had to cut your boot open and you won't be able to wear it. But you could, with the aid of stick find your way back to town."
Grimacing in distaste, Randall shook his head. "Thank you very much, but no. I've had enough of being unconscious and at the mercy of the unknown. Why don't you just lend me the mask. If you put it backwards over my head, it will block out my sight well enough, and you can lead me to the place we met. I'll go into Chaldon from there, and you can retreat to your hiding place without revealing yourself."
The idea had merit. "Except that if I remove the mask to put it on you, you could see my face."
"You trust me, do you not?"
"I want to trust you, Randall. God knows why, but I have to be honest with you. I have not met many men who merited the trust I held in them. The honor some men hold dear is just a surface thing... underneath they are full of corruption and deceit." He stamped down the guilt over his own lies. "Trust doesn't come easily to me."
Offended, Randall frowned. "I dislike that you've been betrayed by someone in the past, Danny, but a Gretton's word is his bond. I swear by all that I hold sacred that I will not steal a glimpse, or report you to the magistrate for highway robbery. Leave the room. Throw my clothes and the mask through the door, and when I have them on, I'll sit on the bed and I'll call you. You can see through the key hole that I everything is as it should be. I'm not stupid. I know you have the pistol you carried when you stopped me, and probably any number of other weapons about this place."
He caught his breath and stared hopefully at Jason. Jason swallowed his doubts and nodded. "If you deviate from this plan, I will have no hesitation in knocking you out again." He warned. Randall smiled, and the sheer beauty of it made Jason's heart stop for a moment. "Damn...when is this appointment?"
"At half past four. There's plenty of time..."
"You are a tease indeed," Jason murmured, rolling Randall beneath him smoothly.
"Danny?" The hesitant tone of Randall's voice surprised Jason.
"Yes?" He rubbed his velvet-covered cheek over the man's bristled jaw, blew hot breath through the fabric to warm his ear. "I'd like to taste your skin, to feel it against my lips. Would you like that Randall?"
"What I'd like, Danny, is for you to fuck me." There was no denying the erotic effect of the crude word uttered in the deep, cultured voice.
The blunt statement set him aback for a scant moment. Then the impact on his body was immediate and undeniable. His prick surged to fullness, his heart raced. "Turn over." The gravelly quality of his voice astonished him. He slapped one firm muscled thigh, sending Gretton scrambling over onto his stomach.
Their hushed breathing filled the little room. Jason slung a leg over Randall's hips, and nestled his prick in the crease of the man's ass. A stifled hiss greeted his action. Randall arched, pushing his buttocks into Jason's touch. Jason swayed, dropped down on his elbows. He rested his chest along Randall's back and brought his mouth to the man's ear. He peeled back the mask and tongued Gretton's ear lobe before biting it softly. "This way, we both get what we want. I'm going to trust you not to anything, Randy." The tenderness that made his chest ache annoyed him, so he continued. "But I am fully prepared to kill you if you do."
Suave. He cursed the pride that made him say something so idiotic and waited to be bucked to the floor.
Randall pointedly pressed his face into his arms, bracing them on the mattress. "I told you, my word is good. If you continue to question my honor, I may have to call you out." The taut buttocks flexed, squeezing him unmercifully.
Grunting, Jason kissed his way over smooth muscles to the base of Randall's neck, then down his spine. He paused to lick the sensitive skin, smiling at the goose bumps that followed in his path. Taking a handful of flesh in each hand, he squeezed and massaged the taut buttocks, urging Randall up to his knees. "I haven't any cream to ease this, Randall."
Randall vouchsafed him a snort in reply, then spread his knees, presenting his perfect pink hole to Jason. "I'm not looking for easy, Danny. So spit on it, and do it already."
Chuckling to himself, Jason leaned forward and blew across the tight hole. The muscle constricted under the light caress. He licked his thumb and then pressed it to the opening. It tightened under his touch, then as Randall let loose a long slow breath, loosened, and softened. Jason rubbed the opening, then licked his palm, smoothing it over his leaking cock.
Holding Randall in place with one hand in the small of his back, he guided himself into position. Applying, steady pressure, he stroked Randall's back, muttering soothing words of encouragement.
"That's right, relax. Let me..."
Randall groaned and shuddered, the tight ring of muscle slowly stretched and he hissed. "Yes..."
Jason let himself sink inward, feeling the muscles clench and soften, enclosing him in a hot grasp that threatened to strip his hard held control away. "Don't let me hurt you," he bit out, gritting his teeth against a wave of pleasure.
"Just...fuck me. Move! Hell fire!" He undulated sensuously, rocking back into Jason, sending his prick deeper. "Yes...like that, there!"
Noting the shudder of ecstasy, the escalation of the man's breathing, Jason withdrew slightly and slid forward again, striking the same spot inside. Randall's body clenched around him. Jason reached around and took his prick in his hand. He stroked in time with his thrust, dragging his thumb over the leaking tip on each upward movement.
Randall rocked back into every thrust, groaning and swearing and demanding that he give him more, and Jason set his teeth and slammed forward with all the force he could muster, praying that the
slow building burn in his gut would hold off long enough for him to bring Randall to completion.
His chest heaved, his lungs burned and his vision blurred as he thrust into the tight heat that rippled and clenched around him. "Come on, Gretton." He growled, leaning into his stroke and dragging Randall back to him by the shoulder. "I can't hold back much longer."
"No...need." Randal choked out, body tensing as his prick swelled in Jason's grasp. Jason dragged his prick out, catching the ridge on the rim of Randall's hole, then surged powerfully forward. Randall shouted, a burst of warm seed coated Jason's hand, and he sighed in relief, letting himself go. He pumped Randall's prick, milking every last drop of seed from it as he thrust unrelentingly into the man's passage, groaning and shuddering, finally jerking into stillness as his own release overcame him and he shot his seed into the clenching passage.
They fell forward into the mattress, Jason tugging the mask back down into place before tumbling to the side.
Chapter Seven
The room the shady looking butler showed him into was shabby, the furnishings ancient and worn. Still, it was clearly a room that Haytor spent a lot of time in, as it seemed to have achieved some of its master's personality. A decanter of, by damn, French brandy sat on an oval table between two brocade armchairs in front of the grate. No fire was lit in the grate. A faint chill lingered in the late afternoon air, even as a chill lingered between the two of them.
There was a time he'd counted Caleb Jeffries as a friend. Before he'd seen just how perfidious the man could be, how sunk below reproach his manners. Once, he'd even had hopes of a match between Jeffries and Cecy. Despite the man's precarious financial situation, he'd have approved of Cecy's choice. Until he'd come upon her crying and the whole sordid tale of Jeffries's betrayal had spilled out. Perry should have sent someone else to Devon to deal with this particular gentleman. The urge to challenge the man to a duel he'd felt on that occasion still lurked, and he had to put it aside, thanks to Perry's insistence that the fellow would be helpful, and try to work with the man.