Tarot's Touch

by L. M. Somerton

  “All ready for you, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers past Conor’s lips. “Suck.”

  “Fuck you.” Conor swore but did as he’d been told, sucking the fingers until they were wet and slick.

  Alex smirked as he pulled them free. Seconds later Conor felt a firm touch as Alex circled his hole. He gasped as Alex pierced him with both fingers.

  He scrabbled for purchase on the varnished wood, but there was nothing to hold onto. Alex pinned him in place, pressing one hand down on his belly and occupying the other in aerobic finger exercises inside Conor’s channel. Alex finger-fucked him roughly, stretching him open. Conor’s skin dampened with sweat, gluing him to the table. He managed to get his heels up and spread himself wider.

  “Slut.” Alex massaged his perineum with the tip of his thumb.

  Conor tensed, feeling his orgasm build. “Don’t stop, Alex! Please…”

  “Oh no you don’t.” Alex stopped moving his fingers then withdrew them.

  Conor whimpered desperately.

  “You’ll come when I say you can. Not before.”

  Alex licked the width of Conor’s stomach, then the length of his rigid cock. “If only you could see yourself, spread for me, so beautiful.” Alex’s pale eyes met Conor’s with a challenge. “Are you ready for me, love? Can you take me?”

  Conor wanted to protest, wanted to resist, but he wanted Alex inside him more. Alex pushed into him, hard and hot. Conor moaned his pleasure, lost all will to resist and pushed back, taking him in deep. The table creaked as Alex rocked forward, pushing harder. Grateful for the solid piece of oak, Conor wrapped a leg around Alex, pulling him closer, encouraging him to thrust harder.

  Conor tilted his arse so Alex’s fierce penetration hit his gland.

  “Alex! Yes!”

  It was too much—he lost control, biting back a second scream as he shot all over his belly.

  “Bad boy!” Alex pumped harder then stilled momentarily before his hips jacked forward, and Conor felt the flush of his release deep inside. Conor closed his eyes and took deep gulps of air as Alex slid from his body with a shudder.

  “I didn’t give you permission to come, Conor.” Alex’s deep voice was low and threatening. Conor opened his eyes and struggled into a sitting position.

  “You didn’t? I could have sworn I heard you say ‘come’.”

  “If I said anything at all, it would have been don’t come, and you know it.”

  Conor fluttered his eyelashes. “So I’ve been bad and you’ll have to correct me.”

  Alex grabbed him around the waist and pulled him off the table. Conor yelped as his skin unglued itself from the wood.

  “Bedroom. Now. I clearly have not given you a thorough enough fucking, as you still have the capacity for cheek.”

  “And there was me thinking that you’d brought me home because I needed to rest and recuperate.” Conor wiggled his arse at Alex as he slipped past him into the hall.

  “Well it seems that the only R&R you are in need of involves…restraints and…rumpy pumpy.”

  Conor fell about laughing. “Oh my God! Finding the R words was a real stretch for you wasn’t it? Rumpy pumpy? Really?”

  Alex scowled. “Well, our bedroom activities will involve me pumping your rump, so what the hell? I was thinking on the spot there. Now get your insolent behind up to the bedroom before I get impatient.”

  Conor giggled all the way up the stairs. He moved as quickly as his bruises allowed, knowing that if Alex got too close, he’d probably be in for a good spanking. In the time it took him to get to the bedroom, Conor grew hard again. When Alex got this dominant, Conor’s body seemed to respond with an enthusiasm that was hard to understand. Alex crowded him into their room and followed him onto the bed, pinning him with his weight. Conor squirmed as Alex stroked and fondled every inch of his body as if he were creating a mental map of every contour.

  Conor couldn’t help himself. He drew his knees up and parted his thighs.

  “Needy little slut, aren’t you?”

  “You promised me rumpy pumpy.” Just the words made Conor snort with laughter.

  Alex cupped his balls and rolled them in his hands, squeezing gently. “You’re not really in the best position to be teasing me, Detective Trethuan. I have important parts of your anatomy in my hands.” He squeezed a little harder, almost to the point of causing pain, but not quite.

  “More!” Conor craved the spike of lust that came with rough handling. He grabbed at his cock as he rested his calves on Alex’s broad shoulders. Alex slapped his hand away.

  “Oh no you don’t, sunshine. That’s mine. Keep your hands off. I wish I could cuff you to the bed, but I think your shoulder needs a couple more days’ recovery time.” He slid the tip of one finger into Conor’s channel and wiggled it.

  Desperate for some friction, Conor took a chance that Alex wouldn’t notice and went to get a hold of his cock again. He moaned as Alex lowered his legs to the bed.

  “I can see you are not to be trusted.” Alex rummaged in the dresser then returned to the end of the bed dangling two pairs of shiny, padded cuffs from a finger.

  “Arms out to the sides. You may not be able to stretch them over your head, but I can still keep them away from that luscious cock.” He cuffed Conor’s wrists to the side rails of the bed and gave a satisfied sigh. “Much better. Now, where was I?”

  He resumed his position, kneeling between Conor’s spread legs and lifted them to his shoulders again. Holding the bottle up so that Conor could see what he was doing, Alex applied a thick coating of lube to two fingers. “Now, I know you probably don’t need stretching, but I do so enjoy keeping you waiting—and wanting.”

  He thrust two fingers into Conor’s body, hitting his prostate almost immediately.

  Conor gasped. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. Conor wanted more.

  “Want to be filled, love. Sir. Please.”

  “Beg me for it, Conor. This is all you get until I hear you pleading to be fucked.”

  Alex stroked his gland steadily but far too slowly to bring him to orgasm. It was utter torture.

  “Bastard! More! I need more.”

  “What do you say, Conor?” Alex probed a little deeper.

  “Screw you!”

  “Wrong answer.”

  Alex must have added a third finger because Conor felt the stretch but still Alex didn’t do enough. All Conor sensed was a light pressure, little more than a tickle. Then it would stop for a few seconds before starting again.

  “I can wiggle my fingertips all night if need be.”

  Alex sounded utterly implacable, and Conor realized it was pointless to resist him. He needed too badly. Alex stared at him expectantly and he caved.

  “Please! Oh, please, Alex… I need you. Need you filling me.”

  “That’s better.” Alex adjusted his position and spent a few moments slathering lube over his cock. “There, nice and slippery.”

  “Fuck, Alex! Less commentary, more action!”

  “Oh, you really are in brat mode this evening, aren’t you?”

  Alex plunged his swollen cock into Conor’s receptive channel, filling him completely. Only a few powerful thrusts later, lights danced behind Conor’s eyes as his orgasm swept over him in unstoppable waves. Alex pounded into him. His arse burned, his wrists ached, every muscle screamed with tension. Alex’s pale eyes gleamed, bored into the heart of him. Conor recognized the moment that Alex lost control because his pupils dilated. Alex jerked and shot deep inside him. In that moment, Conor felt love so deep it hurt, and as Alex collapsed against him, he sighed with contentment and peace. Alex’s grin was feral. “You look deliciously fucked.” He stroked Conor’s hair and kissed him.

  Conor rolled his eyes. “You are so bloody smug, Alex.”

  Alex flicked a nipple. “I deserve to be. And you came twice without permission. When your bruises are all gone, I’m going to punish you properly.”

  Conor blinked and tried not to appear please
d.

  “Oh! You like that idea don’t you?” Alex practically purred.

  Conor groaned. Alex could see right through him and he wasn’t going to be allowed to forget this in a hurry. He had no doubt that Alex would make good on his threat.

  “Unchain me, love. I really need a shower.”

  Alex quickly unlocked the cuffs. “Aren’t you going to invite me along?”

  “Stop with the puppy eyes! Much as I love showering with you, you know what’ll happen if we get in there together.”

  “Oh, I do.” Alex smirked.

  “Well my arse needs a break, so unless you fancy bottoming for a change…”

  “Fine. Don’t use all the hot water.”

  Conor rolled out of bed and chuckled at Alex’s sulk. He had no problem with the fact that Alex didn’t ever bottom. He had no desire to top anyway, but the threat was a useful weapon at times.

  “Are you sure you’re not up for a little wet and slippery time?”

  “I’m not going to be ‘up’ as you put it, any time soon.” Conor examined his flaccid dick. “I think you’ve broken it.”

  “I’d be very happy to kiss it better.”

  His dick twitched and showed a bit of interest, despite Conor’s protests.

  Alex licked his lips.

  “Your attempt at looking innocent is failing miserably.” Conor rolled his eyes. “Oh, I give in.”

  Alex beat him to the bathroom.

  One fantastic blow job and a soothing shower later, Conor sat up in bed. He plumped the pillows then pulled out the first of Adrian Hamilton’s files, which were piled on the bed next to him. There were about fifteen manila folders to go through, all neatly labeled. Some were stuffed full with papers while others only contained one or two sheets. Conor just started at the top of the pile and worked down. It soon became apparent that the journalist had aspirations far beyond local news. He’d been researching several stories, most of which seemed to center around suspicions of fraud. He’d been targeting businessmen and women who lived locally but who had business interests that were national and international.

  “He’s been looking for his big break, poking his nose around in all sorts of things,” Conor murmured as he scanned the pages. “Could have upset any number of influential people.”

  He went through six folders and was beginning to despair of ever finding anything useful. Most of Hamilton’s research seemed to have involved searching the web and the gossip columns. It was hardly earth-shattering stuff. He picked up the seventh folder and his mouth dropped open when he saw its title. Written in black marker pen on the top right corner were the words ‘Queen of Cups’. That wouldn’t necessarily have meant anything to most people but Conor had spent most of the last few days reading everything he could get his hands on about tarot and he knew immediately that it was the name of another card.

  “Shit!” He fumbled through his bedside cabinet and dug out the book on tarot cards and their meanings that he’d bought from Arcania. He’d read it cover to cover already so flicked quickly to the page about the Queen of Cups. He scanned it quickly, skipping to the reversed card meaning.

  Appearing in a reading reversed, the Queen of Cups is implying that you are not to rely on this person, and also that you may be deceived. You are not being told the whole story. You need to exercise caution if you meet a woman—or cross a woman—who is apparently distinguished and popular, as she may turn out to be untrustworthy and not all that she seems to be. When the Queen of Cups appears reversed, it may be an indication of someone who comes across as aloof and mysterious, and one who may lack depth. It may be indicating that you are unaware of the full details of a situation, and you are to be aware of deceptions and hidden truths.

  He yanked the contents of the file out and spread the papers across the bed. “Fuck! Why didn’t I look at this one earlier?”

  Adrian Hamilton had been investigating an extensive ring of suspected fraudsters all working under the guise of palm readers, psychics and card readers. All fakes, the group was highly organized. Hamilton had apparently found enough evidence to identify the ringleader and had given her the code name, Queen of Cups. The final sheet he came to had a grainy photograph pinned to the back. Conor turned it over and gasped. The image was blurred but it was clear enough for him to recognize the woman in the image. She had been behind the counter at Arcania when he’d bought his tarot book. The long red hair and narrow features were unmistakable.

  “Alex!” Conor yelled from the bed.

  Alex had disappeared downstairs to his small study to do some work after they’d finished showering. Seconds later footsteps thumped up the stairs and Alex appeared at the bedroom door. He wore his bathrobe and his hair was still mussed and damp from the shower.

  “What is it? Are you okay?” He paused. “Jesus, Conor, why are you working?”

  Conor flapped the photo at him. “Shut up and look at this.”

  Alex came over and sat on the side of the bed next to him. Conor thrust the picture in front of his startled eyes and explained. “We have to talk to this woman quickly—she’s linked to the tarot cards and to Leather and Lace through Adrian Hamilton.”

  Alex examined the picture. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know her real name. Hamilton calls her the Queen of Cups in his file. He identified her as the leader of a major fraud ring. She sold me my tarot book in Arcania.”

  Alex flicked through the rest of the file quickly. “You’re sure this is the woman from Arcania?”

  “Absolutely certain.”

  “Okay.”

  Alex grabbed the phone from the bedside cabinet and began making calls, snapping orders at various people, setting up a morning raid on the shop.

  Within half an hour, it was all arranged.

  “That’s it. We’re set for the morning. There’s no point stomping around tonight when we know we can catch her when she opens the shop. She may not live there and we don’t have a name. We’ll be in place by seven o’clock, in case she arrives early and I’ve put an unmarked car on the street to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

  “This could be the break we need, couldn’t it?” Excitement at the possibility of a new lead in the case dissolved the tiredness that had gradually been building in Conor’s aching body.

  “I hope so, love. I really do.” Alex cleared the pile of paperwork onto the floor. “But now, you need to rest. I’ll just go and turn the lights off downstairs then I’ll be back, so don’t even think about picking up another one of those folders.”

  Conor settled back into his pillows and closed his eyes. There was too much going on in his head. He needed to sleep but wasn’t sure he could.

  The bed dipped as Alex returned and joined him.

  “Can’t sleep.”

  “Sure you can. Count sheep,” Alex whispered.

  “I’d rather have a cuddle.” Conor wriggled back until he pressed against Alex’s warm, firm body.

  Alex snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. Conor hummed his contentment as the hard ridge of Alex’s cock nestled between his arse cheeks.

  “There’s lube under the pillow.”

  “Oh is there? And why would I need that?”

  Conor grabbed Alex’s hand and guided it to his own aching cock. “You want me to rest and there’s no way that’s going to happen unless you do something about this.”

  “Oh well…if you put it that way.”

  Alex made an uncoordinated scramble for the lube. Conor allowed himself a smug grin, safe in the knowledge that he was about to get exactly what he wanted.

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite wearing each other out very thoroughly, sleep came late and was too fragmented to be restful. Up before dawn, without the need of an alarm to rouse them, they went through their morning routine on automatic pilot, speaking only when it became absolutely necessary. Conor would have liked to discuss the day’s plans but he understood Alex’s need to think everything over. Alex planned
every operation in detail. However simple it seemed on the surface, making a clean arrest required coordination and organization. Too many cases failed at the last hurdle on a technicality that could easily have been avoided.

  They had almost reached the station when Alex finally became communicative.

  “I’ll drop you off at work and then head off to the rendezvous point. I want you to stay in the office. I’ll check in with you later when it’s all over.” Alex looked coldly determined.

  Conor twisted in his seat, trying to look Alex in the eye. “What? No! I want to come with you. I’m part of the team too.”

  “Absolutely not. You’re not fully fit yet.”

  “Alex…” Conor fought back the feelings of hurt, wondering why Alex didn’t trust him to be part of the operation.

  “No.” Alex sighed. “I’m sorry, love. This isn’t about me protecting you or not trusting you. I promise. I can’t have anyone on the team who could put others at risk, and you aren’t one hundred percent yet. This isn’t open to debate. Please understand.”

  “Sorry. You’re right, of course. I should have realized that this is you doing your job, nothing more. I’m being far too sensitive.”

  “No, you’re eager to be a part of everything and I wouldn’t expect anything else. You found the lead. If it wasn’t for your injuries, you’d be right there with me, but I can’t allow it.”

  Conor let the cold chill of worry settle on his shoulders and accepted that it would remain there until Alex returned.

  “Promise you’ll let me know as soon as you have her in custody?”

  “Of course I will.”

  Alex stopped the car a little way down the street from the station. He pulled Conor’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “And I’m always right.”

  There was no answer to that. Conor squeezed Alex’s hand then got out of the car. He stood on the pavement, feeling a bit lost, as his lover drove away. He headed inside to the office and settled down to wait for news. With the rest of the team supporting Alex, Conor had the room to himself and being on his own did nothing to make the time pass. The clock hands moved like treacle. Conor came to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to keep himself busy and he threw himself into work. It didn’t take away the worry but it distracted him enough that the knots in his stomach eased a little.