by H. M. Wolfe
Gently, the redhead shoved Ardan to the bed, where he lay on his back, legs spread, hands above his head, in a gesture of total surrender. The redhead climbed up next to him and began to trace the contour of his face with the pad of his thumb. He concentrated on the older man's cheeks, upper lip, and chin, kissing those spots as the contour advanced.
''Time to start our physical examination.'' Alasdair seductively purred, running his flat palm up and down his husband's torso.
''My left pec hurts. Right there.'' Ardan's breath hitched a little when Spitfire touched his nipple.
''When I was little, mom had the best cure when something wasn't quite right with me.'' the redhead twisted the dusky pink bud, hardening it. ''She kissed the area that hurt or ached.'' he continued, flashing one of the grins his husband loved so much. ''Can I use that treatment on you?''
''Yes, please.'' the answer, more like a whimper, came in a thick voice, Ardan already writhing on the bed. ''I trust your mother's methods of treatment.''
''Mmmm, it tastes so good.'' Alasdair darted the tip of his tongue over his full, oh so kissable lips, after sucking the affected nipple, leaving it hard and perky. ''Does it still hurt?''
''No, but the other one has started to show the same symptoms,'' Ardan smirked. ''I think it's even worse than the one you just...healed.''
''Well, what kind of doctor I am, if I can't treat my own husband?'' the Spitfire attacked the nipple with a hungry mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lightly biting, until it also turned into a little pebble. ''You were right. This one was an even worse case. What's next?''
The game continued like that for a good while. Each time Ardan indicated a painful spot, Alasdair healed him by gently nipping, biting, or licking it. There wasn't a single spot on the older man's neck and torso that was left out, his husband's actions making him whimper in need, the look in the turquoise eyes pleading, asking for more.
When Spitfire started to kiss his way down his happy trail, Ardan felt he was close to insanity, his whole body on fire. With a delicate gesture, Alasdair hooked two fingers into his husband's underwear, pulling it down to release his hard as steel cock. Then, he straddled the older man's legs, lowering his head between his thighs, and started to kiss the area around the raging erection standing proud and tall for attention.
At the start of their physical relationship, Ardan used to clean shave his pubic area, but his Spitfire insisted he let the hair grow. They kind of made a compromise, the older man keeping a neatly trimmed bush, that always tickled the redhead's cheek and lips, making him smile, just like now. After setting his husband's groin on fire with soft kisses and fingertip touches, Alasdair took care of the aching, throbbing cock.
He expertly swirled the tongue over the tip and the mushroom head, licking the little beads of precum and humming in appreciation, like they were the most delicious treat. At this point, Ardan's moans turned into whimpers again, the man arching his back and thrashing his head on the pillow, much to Alasdair's delight.
A few moments later, the redhead moved to the underside of his husband's cock, licking the underside of the shaft up and down, then, seeing that the poor man was already on the edge, decided to put an end to the torture and took it in his mouth and down his throat, balls deep.
Ardan couldn't take it anymore and, running his fingers through his Spitfire's curly, fiery red hair, started thrusting into the sinful mouth that continued to torture him non-stop. Alasdair hummed around his cock, a satisfied look in his emerald-green eyes at the lack of control he was showing.
Being on the receiving end of a blowjob was the only thing Ardan was not entirely comfortable with, even then, five years after he and Alasdair started becoming intimate with each other. Somewhere in the furthest corner of his mind, he still associated the act with humiliation and degradation and avoided spilling himself in Spitfire's mouth.
However, that wasn't the case now, because the redhead's actions brought Ardan to the point of no return. He gave a final swallow around the tip, making him lose what little control he still had over himself. With a strangled cry, the man shot rope after rope of creamy cum down his husband's throat, with Spitfire swallowing it all like it was a sort of precious elixir.
Alasdair licked Ardan's shaft clean, then lay next to him, listening to how his labored breath gradually calmed down. Running one hand through the fine hair covering his husband's chest, the redhead couldn't take his eyes off of the man's face, which harbored a peaceful, serene expression.
''That was...'' Ardan started, then stopped, frowning, because he couldn't find the exact word to describe his feelings. ''Epic. That is the only appropriate word for what I felt and what I still feel.''
''I'll tell you what epic really means.'' Alasdair's gentle voice was music to his husband's ears. ''It means being married to a handsome, elegant, sexy, brilliant casino owner. Waking up every morning next to that extraordinary man and knowing he's yours forever.''
''My definition of epic is to have the love of this brilliant, hot as hell young neurosurgeon, who fights death and wins those battles. Also, to see how the said sexy doctor takes care of your son like he was his own, opening new horizons for him and encouraging the kid to pursue his dreams.'' The trademark small smile graced Ardan's features, as he put a butterfly kiss on the redhead's temple.
''Mmmm, I think that little doctor is sexy because you consider him so.'' Alasdair cuddled at his husband's side, his head on his chest, close to the heart that was beating only for him. ''Also, he's this brilliant only because you saw his potential and encouraged him to pursue his dreams.''
''Love you, my feisty little Spitfire,'' Ardan said, his voice a mixture of tenderness and fierce passion. ''You and Lorcan are the very essence of my existence. My life would be barren and meaningless without you in it.''
''That's exactly how I feel when I think about not having my husband and his son in my life. I mean, sure, there's Dad, Uncle Rayne, Aunt Ava, Grandfather Alastair, not to mention the other uncles, Auntie Willa and the whole bunch of cousins, but still...'' Alasdair sighed in contentment, his eyes half-closed.
''Lorcan messaged me, he and the others are getting ready to hit the bed.'' Ardan checked his phone, the same gentle smile on his face. ''He's a very wise kid; I think we adults should follow his example and get some sleep, too. Tomorrow is going to be another long and complicated day.''
''You're right.'' Alasdair flashed a little grin, ''but at the end of it, we'll be together, in each other's arms, sharing this bed and trying to keep our voices down when we do the naughty, or else Lorcan would spend the whole night awake.''
The two husbands laughed and kissed each other some more until they fell asleep in each other's arms, happiness written all over their faces.
''Are you going on a business trip again?'' Cian's voice sounded flat, as he stared at his mother, busy packing two large suitcases. ''I thought you...never mind.'' he waved his hand, heading to the door.
''It's not a business trip.'' Eve-Marie abandoned the pile of clothes, examining her son's face, but, as usual, she couldn't find the slightest trace of emotion on it. ''Come on, we have to talk.'' she sat on the bed, patting the spot next to her.
''What could you possibly tell me that I don't already know?'' Cian indifferently shrugged. ''The company is important. I am the first place, but you also have to take care of the business. You'll make it when you get back. You promise you'll spend more time with me...did I leave something out?''
''Baby, listen to me for a moment.'' the woman brushed away a few rebel, dirty-blond strands that were falling over the boy's eyes. ''It's not a business trip, and you are going with me.''
''W
hat?! Mom, you can't do that to me! I have two tests next week, an essay to write, a research paper to turn in...I just can't skip school.'' The boy's tone changed from flat to despaired, much to his mother's confusion and frustration.
''You know, honey,'' she started, summoning all her calm and patience, ''so
metimes I don't understand you, in spite of making a huge effort. I'm telling you we are going on a trip together, alone. No business calls, mergers or other transactions involved, and you, instead of being happy, are clinging to school. Would you care to explain?''
''Oh, sorry. I didn't know you wanted me to put on my happy face and act happy.'' Cian's sarcastic answer came right away. ''I don't know anymore what you want from me, mom! How do you want me to act? I thought you wanted a study-oriented son, but now I see how bitterly wrong I was.''
''Of course, I don't want you to neglect your studies.'' Eve-Marie Griesser took one of the boy's hands between her own. ''But that can be solved in many other ways. Those that don't require your physical presence in the school. I don't understand your obsession with being present there in person. I know you hate that place.''
''Indeed, I detest that school, the fancy uniform, the arrogant attitude professors and students alike harbor in the presence of those studying or teaching at regular high schools. And still, it's the only constant in my pathetic, empty existence. The homework, group projects, individual papers...all these keep my mind busy, so I don't think about self-harming or ending my life.''
''Honey, I...'' the woman covered her mouth with a hand, wrapping the other around the kid's very slim waist. ''Why haven't you talked to me? Why do you keep everything to yourself?''
''I've wanted to tell you so many times, but you were busy doing important things or had to attend a fancy party and were always in a hurry. And then, realization finally hit me: I was the also kid, an obstacle you removed by covering it in useless presents.''
''The also kid?'' Eve-Marie asked, only to lower her gaze the next second, ashamed. ''I'm sorry, I really am.'' she tried to pet the kid's dirty-blond strands, but he flinched, moving away.
In the uncomfortable silence that took over the room, the woman remembered. Her heart filled with remorse and regret, how she was using Cian as a pretext each time she didn't want to take care of something by herself, or to negotiate with someone whose abilities were surpassing her own by far.
''There is also my son I have to think about. I spend little time with him as it is.'' was her favorite sentence in such situations. Of course, she only spent a tiny part of the extra time in Cian's company. The rest was dedicated to solving other, more pleasant tasks. Of course, the boy waited for his mother to give him more attention and time finally. But all he got was another present that was returned or lay on the floor, unwrapped, for days.
''I wanted you with all my heart and soul, but I also wanted to preserve my husband's legacy intact, according to his wishes. I wasn't aware one excluded another.'' Eve-Marie started her confession. ''As the priest said, I made a deal with the devil himself to have you, but I'm going to undo all the wrongdoings as soon as we arrive in New York. The two of you won't spend another day apart.''
''Mom, what are you talking about? What priest and who's this devil? Is he my father, the one you never talk about, no matter how much I insist on it? And what do you mean by us never having to spend another day apart? Who's us?'' His mother's words made Cian wake up from his usual apathetic state, stirring his curiosity.
''When I decided I wanted a child, I looked for a place that could provide absolute discretion.'' Eve-Marie started in a shaky voice. ''The in vitro fertilization clinics were out of the discussion. My husband's relatives would have discovered my plans. Then, someone recommended me this guy, Alexander, who, in addition to his legit companies, also provided escort services.''
''My father was paid to have sex with you? Are you trying to say a male prostitute conceived me?'' Cian stared incredulously at the woman who'd given birth to him.
''Both of you, yes.'' she lowered her gaze, afraid to look into her son's eyes. ''You have a twin brother, who currently lives in New York, and we are going to meet him when we get there.''
''A twin brother? What's his name? Were you aware of his existence, or did your husband's relatives plot with the doctors, and they took him away? How did everything happen?''
The questions flew like a torrent from Cian's lips, and his mother didn't try to stop him. She only started to talk after the boy fell silent, listening to her with great attention, and, although he didn't say a word, his face expressed all the emotions the kid experienced during his mother's story.
Every time she mentioned Alexander's name, Cian felt an instinctive repulsion, for a reason he couldn't explain. Although the teenager partially understood the reasons behind his mother's choices, he couldn't stop wondering how his life would have been had his brother lived under the same roof as him.
''There is still one thing I don't understand. Why did this Alexander guy need one of your children? Couldn't he procreate, or...?''
''At the beginning, I didn't understand it, either.'' Eve-Marie Griesser, the authoritative businesswoman, said in a barely audible voice. ''Initially, I thought he wanted to groom him as the next leader of the crime empire he had built. However, according to the priest, a terrible fate was reserved for my poor child.''
''You mentioned this priest before.'' Cian frowned. ''Who is he, and what was his role in this story?''
''Father Peter Donovan is the priest from the Catholic church that runs the orphanage where Lorcan grew up. He watched over your brother the whole time, keeping him out of trouble. More than that, when one of Alexander's former henchmen, still loyal to him, came to collect the prize, the good father made him disappear, taking the boy to New York.''
''Where is Lorcan now? Did this priest place him in someone else's care? Is he safe there?'' Cian started to bombard his mother with questions.
''According to Father Donovan, the place where Lorcan was taken is called the base, and it's a kind of shelter for abused and neglected children. People from there placed him in a gay couple's care.'' Eve-Marie said, a tinge of disapproval in her voice.
''Are you not comfortable at the idea of my brother being raised by two men in love with each other?'' Cian frowned. ''Well, think about the alternative, at what could have happened to him had Father Donovan not intervened. Besides, what if Lorcan or I am gay?''
''I...I didn't think about that possibility.'' Eve-Marie stuttered, surprised at how well her son, who was spending so little time in her company, read her. ''Are you?''
''I don't know, mom.'' the kid bitterly huffed. ''It's not like legions of friends surround me, so I can figure out who I am attracted to.''
''All these things are going to change when we find Lorcan.'' the woman tentatively touched her son's dirty-blond strands. ''He'll accompany us back to Brisbane, and you'll never be alone. Neither of you.''
''Did you ever think that he might not like here? I would understand him if he didn't.'' Cian whispered.
''Then we'll have to move to New York permanently.'' his mother replied in a determined voice.
Alasdair smiled as he looked at his husband's sleeping form. It was so innocent-looking, so happy, the worry lines creasing his forehead forever gone. Ardan's transformation, from the lonely man scarred by a horrible past to the loving husband and dedicated father, surprised everyone in his entourage, especially those who were by his side from the beginning, in the best of ways.
Carefully, so as not to wake up the older man, Alasdair got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. It was Saturday, one of the two days of the week, when it was his turn to cook breakfast while Ardan was sleeping in. The Spitfire smiled at the thought of pampering his husband by serving him breakfast in bed, and, while frying the eggs just the way his beloved liked them, he took a trip down the memory lane.
After the two of them became engaged, three years earlier, Ardan had reorganized his life so that he could spend more time in the company of his son and then-fiancee. At Tyler's suggestion, he bought all the land around the base. He then started building houses for the guards and the members of the staff who were married or in a relationship.
Some of the new houses were offered at a fraction of the rent to the teachers and school
counselors working with the kids at the base. Many of them were attracted by the offer, signing up for permanent jobs instead of spending only a few months there, then quitting because of the difficulties commuting to and from work posed.
At Alastair's advice and backed by his financial support, Ardan turned the shabby gambling places into luxurious casinos, where the richest of the rich spent small fortunes every night. The elegant, discreet presence of the manager acted like a magnet to the gamblers, women and men alike, making them come back and spend even more money. However, although he was polite, charming even with everyone, his heart belonged only to his Spitfire.
As for the base, it had a collective leadership based on the Dragons' House model. He split the responsibilities between Lothier, Landon, Drew, and Seymour. Alexander's ex-guard was in charge of security, Landon and Drew took care of supplies, and Seymour did the paperwork. He also interviewed those who wanted a job there, closely collaborating with Tarquin in checking their backgrounds.