by Tinnean
“The Lady Asmara brought the receipt for the soap with her from her home in the Indies. It fell to each successive Lady Laytham to have it made.”
“And Lady Cecily continued that tradition? Fascinating.”
“Yes, although at times it was difficult to find the ingredients.” Especially, according to Aunt Cecily, when we’d been at war with the Monster across the Channel, but she was diligent in seeing it followed to the letter. Of course, Uncle had fretted over the cost, but not to the point where he’d ordered her to use more mundane items.
The scent of the soap was unique and lingered on the skin, spicy and with a hint of the mysterious East. The exotic ingredients were reputed to ensure everlasting love, although I’d never found that to be true, at least not for me, and I rather imagined not for the lady either, especially if the tales regarding King James had any measure of truth in them.
“Hmmm.” Geo, his eyes growing hotter, dropped the flannel into the basin, dismissing everything save what he intended this night. “On your knees, Ashton.”
Grateful not to hear the hated name “Awful,” I sank to the carpeted floor and waited while he watched me. Without my spectacles, the world was something of a blur, and so I was pleased he didn’t ask me to remove them.
His fingers stroked over my moustache. “Such lovely, soft hair. I’ve been thinking of it all evening—what it would feel like on my flesh.”
Perhaps he intended to say more, but I stopped listening. I leaned forward and licked the tip of his prick where it emerged from the foreskin, a broad swipe that bathed the slit with moisture. Then I took the head between my lips and sucked gently while I rolled between my fingers the heavy sac that contained his testicles. His hands tangled in my hair, and he urged me to take in more. I relaxed my throat and swallowed his entire length, and he groaned and began to fuck my mouth.
I braced one hand against his thigh, kneading the firm muscle and lightly running my nails through the fine hairs that covered it, tracing the long scar that I could feel. A souvenir of that Bedouin tribe?
The other abandoned his testicles and curved around to his muscular buttocks, exploring the crack of his arse, teasing the puckered opening.
His hips jerked involuntarily, and I wondered briefly if he would climax in my mouth. I found I was hoping for that. My lips and tongue worked his prick hungrily, while my own prick quivered in the warm air of the room and oozed pearly drops of liquid. His taste was salty and slightly bitter, similar to John’s, and yet different.
His palm on my cheek halted my actions, and he pulled free. “On the bed, if you please.”
I rose to my feet. The covers had already been folded to the foot of the bed, and I climbed on it, balancing myself on my hands and knees.
“On your back.”
“You… you want me that way?” This was not the way John had preferred it, and since I knew Geo had no real liking for me, was only using this act as a means of collecting my uncle’s debt, I assumed he would prefer to sodomize me without looking into my face.
“For this time, yes. Perhaps for….” He paused, then continued smoothly, “This is how I want you now.”
I rolled onto my back, controlling a hiss of discomfort. I’d have to favor it as much as I could without being obvious about it. I closed my eyes and concentrated on keeping my breathing even. My prick, so gloriously hard while I had been fellating him, had become completely flaccid.
“Does the idea of being had by me interest you so little? This will never do!” Geo commented. He settled himself on the bed between my legs and leaned down to take my shaft between his lips.
I gave a startled cry and became swiftly engorged. It had been a very long time since anyone had done this to me—John had out-and-out refused. I pushed him from my mind and struggled to keep from climaxing too quickly.
Geo’s teeth scraped lightly along my length, and his tongue probed the slit. He took my testicles in his long fingers and rolled them gently. I wound my fingers in his hair, but struggled not to thrust too deeply into his mouth; I had learned to be careful of the few lovers who had been willing to do this to me.
Geo released me with a pop. “Much better! Have you any cream or ointment?”
“On… on the bedside table,” I panted, completely forgetting that I’d already dealt with that.
“Ah.” He retrieved the jar I had left there, and I heard him chuckle as he opened it and saw its depleted state. “Someone likes it up the arse!”
I looked away, swallowing hard. I’d have permitted John to roger me if he’d asked, but he’d never cared to ask. I raised my hand to remove my spectacles, but Geo stopped me.
“No. I want you to see me, to see who’s having you.” He swung around and straddled my chest, his head facing the foot of the bed, and urged me to bend my legs. He parted my buttocks and prepared to spread the cream over my anus, then paused and chuckled softly, having discovered I’d prepared myself. “It would seem someone does indeed like to take it up the arse.”
I flushed. “I could not be sure you would take the time.”
His fingers had been teasing the sensitive skin that led to my entrance, but now he stopped. “I assure you I am not the sort who takes pleasure from giving my partner pain.”
I raised my hips, willing him to continue with that slight encouragement. Instead, he shifted off me, and I sighed. “I beg your pardon.”
He frowned and cupped my chin, overlooking my apology. “Who taught you to expect pain?”
“No one.” I was reluctant to admit I was more familiar with emotional pain than physical pain.
“And yet you expect it of me.”
“Not in the least. It was simply that I… I did not want anything to interfere with the pleasure.”
“Ah. In that case….” He resumed his position over me and returned to stroking the lotion into me.
I sighed again, this time in relief that he hadn’t pressed the issue. The sigh became voluptuous as he dipped in deeper with each touch, pausing only to gather more of the lotion before inserting two fingers.
I palmed the curves of his firmly muscled rump, traced the crease and tickled his own sac. He angled his hips up a bit, and I was able to get my hand on his prick.
He was rock hard and slick from the nectar that seeped from it. I licked my lips, and then scooted down a little further to lick the flushed tip, gathering the drops on my tongue. I swallowed as much of him as I could at that awkward angle.
“Ashton, what…?” He sounded surprised. Did he think I’d just lie there and not reciprocate? I tried to encourage him to sink his fingers deeper into my arse, his prick deeper into my mouth.
He withdrew his fingers, and I moaned in protest, the sound vibrating around the mouthful I had. “Let me go!” he whispered, and I obeyed reluctantly. Before I could blink twice, he was lying over me, my legs pressed back by his muscular forearms, and his spit-slicked prick entered me easily.
It had been a very long time since I had been mounted, but he had prepared me well, and the feeling of fullness, of being invaded, the electrical spark as my lover caressed that spot inside me drove me toward fulfillment.
And then his full weight forced my back into contact with the mattress. With a cry he mistook for passion, I arched my shoulders up off the bed, trying to spare my still-tender back.
It was impossible to maintain that position for long, however, and I sank down once more, too overcome by the remnants of pain to be even remotely interested in what Geo was doing to me. I bit my lips raw trying to suppress my moans.
He nibbled along the side of my throat, twined his fingers in mine, and brought my arms above my head, pressing me even more deeply into the bed. It was more than I could bear.
“Please,” I gasped, managing to free a hand and push at his shoulder.
“What the devil? What’s wrong?” He stared down at me.
At any other time I would have taken great pleasure from the feel of him on me, but not just then. “You’re
too heavy,” I lied. I couldn’t tell him I had been whipped like a recalcitrant schoolboy; that was too shameful. “I can’t….”
He grunted and eased off me and onto his back, arms and legs sprawled over the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. “I was that wrong about you?”
“I’m… I’m not denying you, Geo. Please believe me.” I eased onto my side facing him, hesitantly extending my fingers toward the pale flesh of his torso. I wanted desperately to touch him, but John never liked being touched once the act of coupling was completed. I withdrew them. “I would not go back on my word.”
“What is it, then?”
“If… if we could do it another way?”
“I won’t have you facing away from me!” He turned his head, and I could see the tight line of his mouth. “I won’t have you lying here pretending I’m someone else!”
Was it that important to him? “I’m not facing away from you now.”
“No. You’re not.” He rolled to his side and pulled me closer to him, and as if of its own volition, my right leg rose to curl around his hip, opening my body to him. Once again his fingers teased my fundament, stroked over it, dipped into it, and my hips jerked, causing them to slide past the loosened muscle. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Tell me you are!”
“Yes!” I moaned.
Geo tipped my chin up, and I stared into eyes that seemed to burn with passion. For me? The broad, blunt head of his prick replaced his fingers, and I whimpered as he entered me once again, only this time there was nothing to distract me from the pleasure.
I tried to angle my lower body toward him, trying to take him deeper, but his palm on my hip prevented me from doing that.
“Geo, please!”
“Hush, Ash. Let me take care of you.”
My breath hitched. No one had ever called me that shortened form of my name save for those who worked in the stable—the grooms and Mr. Ruston. Certainly John never had.
Abruptly the import of Geo’s last words struck me, and my breath hitched again. Could he mean…. I dared not let myself read too much into it.
And then his actions drove all thought from my mind. His palm caressed the spot where hip and thigh joined before moving to find and fondle my prick. He smeared drops of the liquid it oozed over the tip and along the shaft, toying with the foreskin, all the while driving into me with a steady pace. I shivered at the combination of sensations that buffeted and bombarded my senses.
For the first time in longer than I cared to remember, I was filled, plundered, enjoyed. Geo murmured words in my ear, first in English, and then in some language I didn’t recognize. His words, his actions, the warmth of his breath whispering into my ear pushed me, drove me toward the mountaintop. I clutched his shoulders, knowing that when I went spinning off, someone would be there to catch me.
Geo stroked across that spot inside me as he pumped my prick, and I climaxed, filling his hand, pouring myself over him. Another few thrusts, and I could feel him quivering in my passage as his scalding heat flooded me.
The silence of the room was disturbed only by the rasp of our panting and the crackle of the fire.
How wonderful it was to lie in someone’s arms! I relaxed against him, sighing with repletion, and nuzzled the hollow at the base of his throat. “Thank you, Geo.”
He softened, and I clamped down internal muscles, but still he slipped out of me, and I grew tense, expecting him to leave. Instead he dropped a soft kiss on my shoulder and drew me closer, lightly petting my back.
I pressed closer against him. Would he, perhaps, stay the night with me? But no sooner had that thought crossed my mind than he grew still and released me. The mattress shifted then settled as he rose and left the bed, and I was left alone on it.
How foolish of me to hope for the moon. My vision blurred; I would not watch as he left. I rolled away, removed my spectacles and fumbled to place them on the table beside my bed, and buried my face in my pillow, barely paying any heed to the dry, scratching sound of a match being struck.
There was a gasp. “Hell and the devil! Ashton, what has happened to your back?” Geo had lit a candle.
My head shot up, and I peered myopically over my shoulder but could not discern the condition of my back. He ran his fingers over it, over shoulders and spine and lower back, his touch feather-light, and I shivered and opened my mouth to prevaricate.
“Do not tell me it was a stupid hunting accident, that you fell from your horse and were dragged. Father said your only redeeming feature was that you were a bruising rider to hounds! These welts and cuts were caused by a whip!”
“A crop, actually.” I gave a short laugh. “I am surprised to know your father thinks I have even one good quality.”
“Ashton.”
I looked away. “He told you so much of what happened here at Laytham Hall, but he was never here when my uncle was here, and I’m sure Aunt Cecily would never mention Sir Eustace had a very uncertain temper.”
“He did this to you?”
“That surprises you? Did you think that because I was the heir I was spared his choler? Oh, go away, Geo!” I reached out to snuff the candle, but he removed it from my reach.
“I do not think so, Ashton. I’ll be spending my nights here. Become accustomed to it.”
My eyes widened and my lips parted. He leaned forward and kissed my mouth, then set down the candle, and I stared at him in stunned surprise. No one, ever before, had done that.
“Now,” he continued, all business as he emptied the basin into the chamber pot, poured in fresh water, and dipped the flannel into it, “spunk itches like the very devil when it dries.”
“Much like soap?”
He chuckled and urged me onto my side, and first ran the flannel down my chest and abdomen and then his own, clearing the residue of our passion from our bodies. The water was cool, but it felt refreshing.
I touched the tip of my tongue to my lip. “Why did you do that?”
“I told you. Spunk—”
“Not that,” I said with some impatience. “Why did you kiss me?”
“It pleased me to. You had best learn now, Ashton, that I do as I please.” He climbed back into bed with me. “I do hope you don’t purloin all the covers.”
I had no idea. No one had ever spent the night with me.
His eyes locked on my mouth, seeming fascinated with it, and he took my chin in his long fingers. I grew still as he drew me closer to him, murmured something against my lips, and kissed me again.
I inhaled, a sudden, startled breath, and his scent—the scent of musk and male and something essentially Geo—flooded my nostrils until I was almost drowning in it.
What a clever mouth he had! His lips teased, at first gently, and then with more pressure until my lips tingled and parted to grant him eager entry. He licked at the smoothness under my upper lip, and my own tongue stroked tentatively the ridged underside of his tongue as it explored my mouth. I shivered with rising need.
Dear God, why had no one ever told me the magic, the splendor, the wonder that was contained in a meeting of lips?
With a soft groan, I leaned into him and simply surrendered, and he took my mouth with teeth and tongue. I let him have his way with me, losing myself in the sensation.
Sooner than I would have liked, Geo pulled back slightly. My lips felt full and swollen. And abandoned.
“It’s too soon to have another go. Go to sleep.” He ran his thumb over my moustache, then smoothed his hand over my hair and settled his palm at the base of my skull, his fingers stroking the indentation, causing me to shiver again at the voluptuous sensation. “I shall want you at least once more before I must return to my own room.”
“Must you go?” I asked, somewhat wistfully.
“Wouldn’t do to startle the housemaid.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Quite.”
I turned onto my other side, my back to him. “Good… goodnight, Geo.”
He reached over to blow out
the candle, then curled around me, his arm firm about my waist. He took care not to press up against my back, but his prick was nestled snug against my arse, and his hand clasped loose around my prick. “Goodnight, Ash.”
Chapter 7
My room faced the east, and since I had forgot to draw the curtains, sunlight spilled into my eyes, waking me.
It was later than I normally woke, and while I was sore, I felt remarkably rested. I relished the feeling.
Geo was not only a careful, thoughtful lover, he was also a very skilled cocksman; he had brought me to fulfillment again and again, and the memories of what he had done to me saw my prick rising to tumescence.
