by Ruby Moone
“What’s your name?” Grange asked and nuzzled his lips into Milo’s neck. He moved to let him nibble.
“None of your business.” Milo squeezed his eyes tight and gasped at the feel of Grange’s lips on his neck.
Grange pulled Milo’s shirt up so he could get his large warm hands all over his skin, hands that were achingly gentle. “My name is Robert.” He leaned up so he could pull the shirt over Milo’s head.
“I don’t care what your name is.”
“Well, I like to know the name of the man I am fucking.” Robert kissed his way down Milo’s neck, nibbling and kissing his chest and when his lips and teeth closed over his nipple, Milo actually shrieked. The pleasure was so intense it was pain. He writhed and clutched at Grange’s head.
“You are not fucking me,” he panted.
Grange unbuttoned the falls of Milo’s breeches and then in a swift move peeled them from his legs, along with his small clothes, stripping him bare.
Milo wanted to die. His legs were withered and thin and he felt pathetic and ugly against the hard muscled beauty of Grange. “Give them back,” he choked. “Give them back now.” He struggled to sit but Grange went back to kissing his nipple and he wilted. Grange kissed his way down his belly, dipping his tongue into his navel, making him jump. When he started kissing lower Milo couldn’t breathe. He could only lift his head and watch as Grange kissed lower and lower. When he took Milo’s cock in his hand Milo dragged in a shuddering breath.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he whispered but Grange just gave him an odd smile and engulfed his cock in his warm mouth and then sucked. Hard.
Milo shouted, threw back his head and writhed, panting hard. Grange was sucking him and squeezing his bollocks at the same time and Milo was a mess of ecstasy.
“Milo.” He whispered between pants. “Milo. My name is Milo.”
Grange pulled off. “Oh, Milo. How you taste.”
How I taste? Milo was filled with mortification again. He struggled. “You shouldn’t…”
“Should I stop?” Robert asked dropping kisses in the crease of Milo’s thigh.
No! Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop. Milo was screaming over and over in his head but couldn’t say the words aloud. Couldn’t speak at all.
“I once knew a chap that liked to struggle a bit and we played a game.”
“A game?” Milo’s voice came out oddly high pitched as Robert nuzzled against his thigh.
Grange—no Robert—loomed over him and nipped at Milo’s bottom lip. “My lovely Milo, some men like to struggle. Like to carry on when they have said no, but if you really want me to stop, let’s pick a word that you can say so that I know you mean it. If you say that word, then I will stop immediately.”
Milo stared at him, his head spinning. Being held down by a man’s hard body was the stuff of his dreams, his fantasies. Was this what Grange was suggesting, offering? Were there really other men in the world like him? “What sort of a word?”
Robert kissed him on the mouth. “He used…”
“I don’t want his word.” Milo wasn’t sure about this at all, but if he was to play…
“Say…” Robert paused and looked away for a moment. “Say, cheese.”
Milo stopped struggling and gaped. “Cheese?”
“That way you can shout and struggle all you like. If you really want to stop, just say, cheese.”
“You are a madman.” Milo was staring at his smiling face. At the lips that not a moment ago had been wrapped around his cock. “An absolute madman.”
“I may well be. Let’s try it.”
Milo wriggled. “Get off me.”
Nothing.
He pushed at Robert’s chest as hard as he could. “Get off me. Stop this now. I tell you, stop it.” His heart was pounding as he struggled and when Robert pushed him to the ground and pinned him with the weight of his body Milo moaned and thrashed but the excitement that rushed through every part of him was pure ecstasy.
“Cheese,” he whispered, and immediately he was free.
“See?” Robert whispered, his breath shaky.
Milo smiled a little. “Stop it.”
And then he was being kissed. Kissed and kissed and kissed until he was drowning. Milo could feel the hard weight of Robert’s body pressing him into the ground and it was everything that he had dreamed of. When Robert pulled away Milo realised that he was shaking, too. Robert took his nipple in his mouth and worried it with his teeth and then nipped the other between finger and thumb. A peculiar keening sound came out of Milo’s mouth at the sensation. Robert pulled off and stuck two fingers in his own mouth. They came out wet and glistening. Milo jumped when Robert lifted one of his pale, thin legs and probed gently behind his bollocks down between his arse cheeks. When he pushed at his opening he panicked.
“Cheese, cheese…”
Robert stopped immediately. He scooped Milo up and held him, rocked him. “Shh,” he murmured into his hair.
Milo was panting. “Do you have any idea,” he said between breaths. “How ridiculous I feel shouting ‘cheese’ at a man who has his finger in my arse?”
He felt Robert laugh. “It worked, didn’t it?” He kissed Milo’s head. “My finger is no longer in your arse.” He kissed him again. “Do you want my mouth on your cock again?”
“No, I do not, you insolent wretch.”
Robert hesitated and then pushed him roughly back onto the grass and Milo went willingly. Robert kissed him, hard, then kissed down his torso to his cock and instantly engulfed him.
Milo wailed and took Robert’s head between his hands. “Move, going to spend…” He tugged, but Robert sucked harder and then Milo’s hips were jerking and thrusting as his whole body erupted, locking him from head to toe in one long tortured contraction of pure joy. Robert just drank him. Drank everything and when Milo collapsed, Robert licked him one last time.
“Oh, Milo,” Robert breathed. “Oh, Milo.”
Chapter 3
When Milo regained some of his senses he was draped over Robert. His head was pillowed on his chest, and one leg drawn up and over Robert’s. He liked that a lot. Robert had arranged him and now held him close. Milo ran a hand down through the soft hair on Robert’s chest and opened his eyes. He could see that Robert was still hard and guilt hit him. He had left the man unsatisfied. He felt awkward. What was the etiquette in such a situation? Did he expect the same? Could he even do that? He rubbed Robert’s belly as he pondered the situation. As usual, the link between his brain and his mouth disconnected and the words that emerged bore no relation to what he was thinking and feeling.
“I suppose you expect me to do something with that?” he said and patted his hand awkwardly over the man’s cock. It twitched and firmed even more.
“I more than expect it,” Robert said, and there was a good deal of gravel in his voice. “I demand it.”
“Well, you can demand all you like.”
“I demand that you take me in your hand and stroke me.” Milo’s heart pounded and to his surprise he found himself growing hard again. He thrust a little against the hardness of Robert’s body and, taking a deep breath, took hold of Robert’s cock and stroked. It was long and hot and Milo was entranced. Robert’s head went back and the man gasped and moaned in exactly the way Milo had, making Milo feel ten feet tall. He moved and took Robert’s flat nipple into his mouth and sucked, copying the things that Robert had done and was rewarded with a whimper. Milo was shaking, hard again, aching again. Robert groaned harshly, and in a swift move, pushed Milo onto his back. Milo gasped when Robert straddled his thighs, lined up both of their cocks, and then lay on top of him. He was wonderfully heavy and Milo felt crushed, trapped, pinned. He almost came again. He thrust his hips and then Robert was thrusting back hard. Milo brought his arms up to hold the man, held him tight as they rubbed together frantically, and then Robert was moaning, moaning and dropping his head into Milo’s neck, and then he threw back his head and roared his completion, pumping
himself hot and wet onto Milo’s stomach. Milo thrust with him and then bit down on his lip when Robert wiped his fingers in the mess between them, grabbed Milo’s cock, and pumped hard and fast. In seconds Milo was crying out and spilling, too.
They clung together for what felt like an age until Robert moved. Milo missed his weight. He brushed Milo’s hair back. “Did I hurt you?”
“Dreadfully,” Milo said, smiling up at him.
Robert smiled into his eyes. “Have you ever done that before?”
“Hundreds of times. Couldn’t you tell?”
Robert bent and kissed him. “I could.” He kissed him again; soft kisses in the shade of the tree amid the sounds of birdsong and the buzzing of bees. Milo kissed him back and awkwardly stroked the back of his head.
Robert pulled away and kissed the tip of Milo’s nose, making him feel foolish again. “Would you like to sit in the sun and dry off? We could probably get our clothes dry.” Robert was peering out of the shade of the tree. “You might need to take care not to burn though.” Milo watched him stand, naked and completely unashamed, and gather up their items of clothing. He moved out of the shade and lay everything neatly on the grass. When he had done he put his hands on his hips and nodded as if satisfied. He looked like a gladiator, a warrior, a god. Milo pushed himself up so he was sitting and dragged up his knees so as much of him as possible was hidden from view. His own pale, thin body felt feeble by comparison.
Robert came back under the shade and sat beside him. “Probably best we stay here. Do you burn easily with all that gorgeous pale skin?”
“I have no idea. I have rarely been out in the sun. How many men have you been with then?” The words were out before he could think.
Robert looked puzzled for a moment, and then tilted his head with a wicked smile. “Do you want the dirty details?”
“Most certainly not.” He did.
“Well, there have not been that many. There are quite a few chaps like us, but you have to be so terribly cautious.”
“Quite a few?” It wasn’t just him?
“For a long time I thought it was just me and there was something dreadfully wrong with me.” He flashed a boyish smile at Milo. “Did you?”
Milo nodded, no doubt with his mouth open.
“Then I saw two of the farm hands where I grew up. They were both big strapping lads, probably seventeen or eighteen, and I adored them. I used to follow them everywhere.” He paused, apparently lost in reflection.
“Go on.”
“Well, I followed them out into the fields and beyond, and eventually they disappeared into the woods. I lost them for a bit, but when I found them….” He paused and ran his hand through his hair. “When I found them they were kissing. Kissing like men kiss women, you know, and it was so…so beautiful.”
Milo inched closer so their shoulders touched. “I’ve never seen men kiss.”
“Neither had I, but they did more than kiss.”
“What did they do?” Milo’s heart was thundering.
“Patrick pulled a bottle out of his pocket and then stripped both of them naked. He…he leaned Alfie over and made him hold the top of the wall, the bottle had oil in it and he spread it all over his cock, down Alfie’s crease and…and fucked him. Standing up, he fucked him so hard…” Robert ran a shaking hand through his hair.
Milo let his head drop onto Robert’s shoulder. “It’s not just us,” he whispered.
“No. Not just us. But we’d be hanged if anyone found out.”
Milo was quiet.
“I’ve been with a few people,” Robert admitted. “Nothing like this though, nothing like with you.”
Milo’s breath caught. “You mean you’ve never done it with a cripple before?” His tone was harsh and cold and matched the icy blast that brought him back to reality despite the warmth of the sun. “Get me back to the house. Go and fetch the chair.” He couldn’t bear to be held naked in Robert’s arms, couldn’t bear…Robert stopped him with a kiss and pushed him back onto the grass and lay on him.
“Idiot,” he murmured against his lips. “I meant I’ve never been with someone who is so beautiful, so handsome, so utterly,” he stopped for another kiss, “utterly desirable and lickable.”
Milo sighed, and smiled. “Lickable? Is that even a word?”
“If it isn’t it should be.” Robert ran his tongue up Milo’s neck. “Lickable, kissable,” he stopped and kissed his mouth, “and…fuckable.”
“Well, you are not fucking me.”
“Do you want to fuck me?”
Milo opened his eyes and stared up at him. Did he mean what he thought he meant? His exhausted cock started to take and interest and he felt Robert stir, too. “Yes.” His heart and head pounded as he waited for Robert to reply. He couldn’t actually think of how he might do it, but the thought had him hard and aching in a second.
“Then you shall, but not now.” He rubbed against Milo. “I want to recover enough to enjoy it.”
* * * *
Milo was awoken at a ridiculously early hour by Robert pulling back the heavy drapes and letting the sunlight stream into the room. He groaned and peeled open his eyes and blinked. “What the hell are you doing? What time is it?”
“It’s past eight and as I’m your new valet I have come to serve you.”
Milo rubbed his eyes and stared. “You look like a bloody farmer.”
Robert looked down at his serviceable brown clothing and then grinned. “I could always take it off?”
“Dear God.” Milo threw his arm over his eyes, thankful that the coverlet hid his arousal. If he had Robert as his valet he would have to live with a perpetual erection. He listened as the man moved about the room and then felt a rush of air. He lifted his arm to see Robert flinging open the windows and setting a tray on a table he had placed by the window. He came back to the side of the bed and offered Milo his green silk robe, helped him into it, then picked him up and sat him by the window so he could see out over the grounds, feel the sunshine and air on his face, and he could actually breathe.
“I brought toast and coffee. Brownlow said you don’t eat much in a morning.”
Milo glanced at the table. There was enough toast for an army. “Are you attempting to feed me up?”
“No, thought if I brought enough you’d share.”
Milo had to put a hand over his mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. “I regret to inform you that valets do not eat with their masters.”
“Ah, but most masters don’t want to fuck their valets.”
The laugh bubbled free and Robert laughed, too. “Sit and eat, you insolent wretch.” Robert pulled up a chair and together, in the warm morning sun, they ate and drank in companionable silence, passing the marmalade back and forth. Milo could not remember ever eating such a comfortable breakfast with another man.
Robert swallowed his toast and dabbed his lips with his napkin. He had very good manners. “Might I ask a personal question?” he said.
Milo rolled his eyes. “I suspect you will ask irrespective of what I say.”
“Why do you live upstairs? Why don’t you move your bed to the ground floor, pull up the carpets, and make it so that you can move about.”
“Do I look like I am able to move furniture and carpets?”
Robert scratched the back of his neck. The day out in the sun had left him looking outrageously healthy. His dark hair shone and his skin was a little tanned. There was a patch of pink on his nose where the sun had burned him. “Well, I could help?”
“Do what you want. I don’t care.” Not for the first time Milo wondered why he couldn’t just say something pleasant, sound grateful, but he seemed incapable. “Get me dressed,” he muttered and some of the light went from Robert’s sunshine eyes again.
Chapter 4
Milo wondered how Robert could ever have any sense of respect for him when he had to manhandle him in and out of bed, in and out of his small clothes and breeches. The indignity of having someone dress hi
m, clean him had always stung but this was crushing.
“You could help a little, you know,” Robert said after a while and Milo’s temper soared.
“Oh really. What would you have me do? Dance around the room?”
“You could lift up and lend a hand. You are not a complete invalid. Remember yesterday? You were able to move your hips plenty then.”
Milo, for the first time in his life, was speechless. He could only stare and feel the heat burn his cheeks.
“I’m right. Come on, lift up.”
Milo grabbed that handles of the chair and heaved his arse up, allowing Robert to get him into his breeches more easily. He moved away before they were fastened. Milo sent him a questioning look.
“You want me to button them? Is there something amiss with your arms?”
“Get out.” Milo hissed. “Get out of my sight.”
“Do you want to go outside again?”
“Get out of my sight!” Milo was shaking all over and so angry tears pricked the back of his eyes. Robert gave him a long, speaking look and left.
* * * *
It felt like hours before Robert returned. Judging by the noise there was a great deal of activity going on downstairs and Milo felt horribly isolated. More than he ever had. The sun continued to shine and the room became warmer and warmer. When the door opened he didn’t move, he just stared at the carpet.
“I’ve come to take you to luncheon.”
That made him look up. “Take me?” Milo frowned. “Take me where?”
Robert moved towards him with purpose. “Down to the dining room.”
“I eat in here.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. If you eat downstairs, we can go out again. I wager I could get you in the small carriage. How long is it since you went out for a ride?”
Milo knew his mouth was hanging open but he couldn’t help it. He had never been out to ride just for the sake of it. Journeys were arduous and inevitably humiliating. The last time he had been in a carriage was the journey that had brought him to Bingley Hall five years ago. He had reached his majority and on his twenty-first birthday he had inherited the house from his grandmother. His guardian dropped him off, and that was that.
