by Andrew Grey
Chapter Two
“So you like to win,” Duncan replied, his throat suddenly very dry. He hadn’t expected the small man to be so forceful or to dominate a place like this so completely. He’d seen him at the auction and the man obviously knew how to read a situation and do what it took to come out on top. He’d already seen that in action.
“Doesn’t everyone?” The small man simply looked at him, and Duncan had to stop his body from automatically shivering under his penetrating gaze. He loved strong men because Duncan himself was strong, and weakness was something he had a tough time dealing with.
“And what does it mean to win?” Duncan asked. He would normally have signaled the bartender for a drink, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him. He fascinated Duncan, and Duncan had a deep fear that if he did, the man’s attention would shift, and Duncan didn’t want that to happen.
“That depends where the battle is,” the small man replied and then lifted his martini glass to his red, full lips. Duncan blinked and he knew the other man had seen it because he nodded slightly before setting the glass back on the bar. He obviously was giving nothing away. Duncan hoped he’d say something more, but the man simply continued looking at Duncan like he was dinner for a hungry lion.
Duncan shifted slightly. The way the small man continued to look at him was unnerving and Duncan knew he should look away, but he couldn’t. There was something behind those eyes, a spark of desire, or the recognition of something Duncan was definitely missing. “Take the auction, then.”
The small man nodded. “That was business, and winning there meant getting what my client wanted.”
Duncan took a deep breath and slowly released it. “So you weren’t buying the painting for yourself?” A stab of excitement raced through Duncan’s body, fueled by that bit of knowledge, and built on top of the deep longing that kept running up and down his spine, driven by something primal.
“No. I was purchasing for a client.” The small man began to turn away, and that was the last thing Duncan wanted for so many fucking reasons.
“Would it be possible to get your client’s name? I’d like to see about purchasing the painting.”
The man’s eyes darkened. “No. That’s strictly confidential, and I’m not here to talk business tonight. At least not that kind of business.” The leer was back, and the offer or threat inherent in those words cut through Duncan’s inhibitions like a knife.
The painting was very important to him, but he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere further on that subject, at least not tonight. “I’m Duncan Prescott,” he said, holding out his hand. The other man stared at it before shaking, but did not offer his name. “What do I call you?”
The other man had picked up his glass, and he set it back on the bar, pausing for an inordinately long time. “Sir.”
Duncan shivered. God damn, there was something about this guy that pushed all his buttons. He may have been small, and that he definitely was, but other than in physical appearance, there was nothing small about this man. “Okay, Sir, but can I ask for your name?”
“You can ask all you want for just about anything, but that does not mean I’m going to give it to you.” Sir’s voice resonated deep inside him.
Duncan shivered again, and without taking his eyes off Sir, he motioned to the bartender. Sir shook his head and lifted his glass off the bar, holding it up to Duncan’s lips. Duncan never drank martinis, but he sipped from the rim. The alcohol bit and the vermouth cloyed at his throat, but beneath it he could taste a hint of Sir, and it made his dick instantly as hard as steel. The glass slipped away, and Sir drank the remainder before getting up. As Sir walked toward the door, Duncan knew he had a decision to make. He followed without really thinking twice. After less than ten minutes, Sir had gotten hold of something inside of him. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he intended to find out.
Outside, a limousine pulled up and Sir got inside. Duncan hesitated for a second as the door stood open. He knew it wouldn’t remain so for long, so he got inside the car. The door closed behind him, and Duncan stared at Sir for some indication of what would happen, but Sir simply motioned to the driver and the car began to move.
He said nothing to him, nothing at all, the entire ride. Duncan began to squirm slightly and wondered if this had been such a good idea, but Sir sat still and stared out the front window. Eventually the car stopped, and after a few seconds the door in Sir’s side of the car opened, and he got out. The door didn’t close, and Duncan slid across the seat, getting out of the car. After Sir said something to the driver, he walked up toward a small, but immaculate home, and Duncan followed.
Inside, he looked around, and Sir simply stood, feet apart, in the hallway, looking at him. “What do you want?” he asked levelly and reasonably. Duncan wished he had an answer, but simply lowered his eyes. “I asked a question,” he said with more force.
“I want you,” he finally answered, and Sir stepped closer. Duncan reached out for him, and Sir stopped moving.
“What about the kid you were with at the auction?” Sir asked, his eyes drilling, and Duncan could tell he was looking for any sort of lie or avoidance.
“A mistake,” Duncan answered truthfully. Troy had been a huge mistake from the day they’d met. All Troy was interested in was having a good time with as many people as possible. He almost tried to explain that Troy was a friend, but he was more like a trick that Duncan had tried to make last too long.
Sir moved closer, and Duncan remained still as one of his hands wound behind Duncan’s neck, pulling his head down forcefully. Sir kissed him with such force that Duncan’s knees nearly buckled. Sir’s lips took charge, possessing Duncan’s while sucking on his tongue. Sir nipped lightly, then soothed before nipping again, and by the time it ended Duncan would have sworn he’d seen God.
“Go upstairs, take a shower, and dry yourself. In ten minutes I want to see you naked, bent over the bed in the room directly across the hall from the bathroom,” Sir said with the same tone that someone would use to give driving directions, but Duncan heard a slight edge to the man’s voice and he turned and climbed the steps.
At the top of the stairs, Duncan saw the open bathroom door and stepped inside. Starting the shower, he stripped off his clothes, folded them, and stepped under the spray, closing the curtain. He kept expecting the door to open, and he hoped Sir would join him. For some reason, he knew that would not happen, but he still wished.
Reaching for the soap, Duncan began washing himself. His legs shook and his cock was rock hard, standing at rigid attention. Soaping his hands, Duncan wrapped them around himself, stroking a few times before forcing himself to stop. After cleaning himself up everywhere, Duncan stepped out of the shower and toweled dry. Hanging up the towel, he checked his watch. One minute to go, Duncan made sure the bathroom was clean and walked across the hall. Leaning across the side of the bed, he waited. “I must be nuts,” Duncan told himself as he thought about what he was doing, and he nearly got back up.
Footsteps behind him almost made him jump. Duncan lifted his head to look at Sir. A hand landed on his ass, the smack reverberating through the room. Duncan nearly cried out, but swallowed the sound before it could escape. “Nice,” he heard Sir say, then a warm hand caressed over his butt. “Keep your head down.”
“Yes, Sir,” Duncan responded, placing his hand on the mattress. Sir’s hands made long, slow strokes up his back and then down over his ass.
“Very good,” Sir crooned as his hands slid to Duncan’s inner thighs, and he spread his legs farther apart. “Leave your hands where they are and do not move. No matter what I do, you are to remain perfectly still. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Duncan answered, already vibrating with excitement at the prospect of Sir’s touch.
“Good,” Sir said, and his hands stroked over Duncan’s cheeks, spreading them far apart. Warm breath skimmed over his hole, and Duncan’s breath caught in his chest. “You liked t
hat,” Sir almost sang, and then did it again before skimming the skin with his fingers. Duncan shivered once again, a small moan escaping. Sir’s fingers skimmed over his opening, teasing the skin, and Duncan’s head felt as though it were going to explode—and all Sir had done was touch him. But it felt as though he knew exactly how he wanted and needed to be touched. A snick made Duncan tense, and then a lubed finger circled his opening before pressing inside.
“Fuck,” Duncan said under his breath, and Sir slid his other hand between Duncan’s legs, fingers wrapping around his cock, holding tight but not moving.
“I know exactly what you want,” Sir crooned, his finger curling slightly, and Duncan swore he saw stars, “and I’ll give it to you when I feel you’re ready.” The finger slipped from inside him, and Duncan groaned as Sir’s hand drew away. “Climb on the bed and roll over.”
Duncan moved slowly and did as he was told, his eyes meeting Sir’s, and he watched as the smaller man slowly began to undress. Sir may not have been big, but he had a set of abs to die for, and as the pants slid down Sir’s legs, Duncan saw that everything was not exactly proportional. Holy Christ! “Spread your legs and hold them still.”
Duncan complied, watching every movement Sir made as he climbed onto the bed, even as he rolled on a condom. Duncan’s mouth watered as Sir settled between his legs. He could feel his heart pound as Sir settled over him. To Duncan’s surprise, Sir moved closer and kissed him, hard, taking complete possession of his mouth, and Duncan wanted it. “Please, Sir,” Duncan mumbled, and he felt Sir breach his body. Duncan’s eyes rolled back as Sir sank into him without stopping, slowly filling him completely. The burn was exquisite, and Duncan reveled in every sensation as his ass stretched to accommodate Sir’s hardness.
Sir locked their eyes together and leaned over him as he began to move. This was no slow seduction that built gradually. Sir fucked him with near complete abandon, driving into his body with surprising force. Duncan could feel Sir’s eyes drilling into him with the same intensity as his mammoth cock. “Fuck me, Sir!”
Sir drove deep and stilled. “This is what you needed, isn’t it? You needed to be fucked by someone who knows exactly how you want it.”
“God yes!” Duncan clutched at the bedding as he was fucked into the middle of next week. Hard and raw, just what Duncan needed, that’s what Sir gave him without being told and with barely a word being spoken between them. It almost felt as though Sir could read his mind.
“You don’t come until I tell you,” Sir instructed, and Duncan nodded. There was no way he could speak. Hell, he could barely breathe as Sir’s cock dragged over the spot inside him with each and every amazingly accurate stroke. Duncan wanted to come, but he needed to please Sir more, and after a while he felt himself shifting to a state of euphoric bliss that had his mind floating. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Duncan had had plenty of sex, even rough, demanding sex, but no one had ever done this to him before.
“Please, Sir,” Duncan begged, wanting to come so badly and yet not wanting this feeling to ever end.
“You aren’t ready yet,” Sir told him through clenched teeth, and Duncan grunted a note of pleasure knowing he was having an effect on Sir. A hand smacked one cheek of his ass and then the other, the sound echoing through the room. Duncan grunted with each one, but Sir kept fucking him, never missing a beat, and Duncan was too far gone. Smack followed on smack, each becoming firmer, and Duncan registered in his hazy mind a warmth spreading from his ass through his entire body. “Now—” smack, “—you’re—” smack, “—ready,” Sir gritted out. “Come for me right now.” The last word was punctuated by a deep thrust and a hard smack on each ass cheek that Sir soothed with his hand. The change in the touch combined with the fucking of a lifetime sent Duncan’s mind reeling, and he came without being touched, his entire body throbbing through his tsunami-intense orgasm.
Duncan floated for a long time as wave after wave of endorphins rushed through his body and mind, taking him to a place he’d never been before. When he opened his eyes, Sir had slipped from his body and the condom was gone. He was sitting next to Duncan on the bed, lightly rubbing his chest and crooning soft words to him. “You’re okay, just relax and breathe,” Sir said in a voice completely foreign to him: soft, sweet, and intensely caring. “Deep breaths,” he said as he stroked Duncan’s cheek like a baby. “Don’t try to move.”
“What happened?” Duncan asked and tried to sit up anyway, and his head spun.
“The experience was so intense for you that your body needs a few minutes to process everything that’s going on. Just give it a few minutes and you’ll be just fine.” Somehow, Duncan doubted that was the case, but he laid back and closed his eyes, letting the floaty feeling take over again. Sir kept stroking his skin lightly and slowly, and Duncan felt the sensation of clouds leave him and he drifted back into himself.
“Wow,” Duncan murmured when he opened his eyes once again. Sir reached to the bedside table and grabbed a towel. After wiping Duncan carefully, Sir threw the towel on the floor. “What the hell happened to me?”
“You know what happened,” Sir told him. “It was what your eyes said you wanted at the bar, so I gave it to you.” Sir settled on the bed next to him and the light clicked out. “Close your eyes and sleep,” he said softly in Duncan’s ear, and Duncan complied. His mind threatened to try to ask a million questions, but he didn’t have the energy. Sir lay behind him, his chest pressed to Duncan’s back, an arm protectively around his waist.
Duncan remembered nothing more until he woke in the morning to light streaming through the windows. Sir still held him tight, but as soon as Duncan stirred, he heard Sir’s voice. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Duncan realized a number of things. His ass was sore both inside and out, but in the best way possible. He also felt like all the cobwebs had been removed from his mind and everything seemed crisp and clear. Duncan wanted to roll over and kiss Sir, but he didn’t know if it was allowed, so he lay where he was and let the other man take the lead. “Wonderful,” Duncan answered, and he heard Sir chuckle slightly. He hoped for some sort of repeat from last night, but the covers lowered and he felt the bed shake slightly as Sir’s weight shifted. Rolling over, he watched Sir move around the room. Dark hair, tanned skin, everything in perfect proportion—well, nearly everything anyway.
Sir shrugged on a thin robe, tying it closed around his waist before leaving the room. Duncan then heard water running and he figured it was time to go. He’d been given one of the most amazing nights of his life, but it was obvious that Sir didn’t want him to stay. As he was gathering his clothes, Sir walked back in the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Duncan could feel Sir watching him and he wanted to sit next to him and kiss him. A realization struck him that he wanted Sir to hold him like he had the entire night. There was this feeling from deep inside him that nothing could hurt him as long as Sir was there, and Duncan hadn’t felt that in a very long time. Once he was dressed, Sir stood up and walked to him, eyes once again boring deep into Duncan. Sir reached around his neck, tugging Duncan down for another deep, intense kiss that almost had Duncan begging to stay. The kiss ended slowly, like both of them knew that was the end, and both wanted it to last. Once Sir’s lips stopped sucking on Duncan’s, he felt his lower lips slide back into place and the pressure on the back of his neck lessen.
Standing up, Duncan had no idea what to say. Sir nodded slightly, and Duncan turned and descended the stairs, walking through the hallway and out the front door. As soon as it closed behind him, Duncan felt as though he’d just let go of something important, but it was too late now. Taking a steadying breath, Duncan pulled out his phone and called a cab. Luckily there was one in the area and he didn’t have to wait very long.
Opening the back door, Duncan got inside. “Cudahy Towers,” he told the driver, and the car pulled away. Everyone in town knew the location of that posh and coveted address. Sunday morning traffic was light, and Du
ncan arrived home rather quickly, almost too quickly. He paid the driver and strode into the building, taking the elevator almost to the top floor. Getting out, Duncan unlocked his door and walked inside, the door closing the only sound he heard.
Duncan showered and changed clothes before wandering through the condominium, wondering what he should do. He had a million friends he could call, although most of them would probably still be in bed, and that held little appeal. Instead, he found himself dragging a chair over to the corner windows with their view of Lake Michigan and the city as it sprawled toward the northern suburbs. As he sat, he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering what Sir was doing right now. He didn’t even know his real name, and yet he was almost all he could think about. Sir was also the only connection he had to the painting that he’d started out to purchase, and he had to track down that portrait before it disappeared for another 20 years. He knew where he could start, because others at the club would probably know who Sir was.
Picking up the phone, Duncan said to hell with it and called Ryan.
“Why in hell are you calling at this hour?”
“Good morning to you too,” Duncan quipped. He knew it was all bluster. He and Ryan had been roommates at Madison, and from experience he knew Ryan was already up, probably in more ways than one.
“This better be good,” Ryan told him, and Duncan explained what had happened the night before, leaving out a few things, but Ryan got the idea. “Jesus, it sounds like you hit the jackpot. But you don’t know his name?”
“Nope,” Duncan answered.
“And you want to find him?” Ryan was clearly awake now, and Duncan heard a male voice in the background behind his friend, followed by loud slurping. Yup, Ryan was definitely up.
“Yes. He’s the only link I have to the painting,” Duncan explained, and even to him the words sounded hollow. On the other side of the line, Duncan heard a small, swallowed moan.