by Lynn Lorenz
Altogether a tempting sight. Hugh’s arms wrapped around Jon’s chest, hands splayed, fingers caressed, until his thumbs found their targets. Jon sighed as his buds became hard points under Hugh’s touch.
“Kiss his shoulders.” Will spread his fingers and pressed his hand into his thigh to keep it from fisting. It aroused him to have such control over the lovers. He didn’t want to let it show, but if this went on for long, arousal would be hard to deny.
Hugh’s head fell forward, his eyes locked on Will as his black hair cascaded over Jon’s pale skin. Those two bodies were a beautiful and terrible contrast. Jon’s small, delicate frame and Hugh’s larger powerful body. Jon’s pale skin and eyes, and Hugh’s dark hair and eyes. Jon’s soft vulnerability and Hugh’s harsh ruthlessness.
Jon’s head fell to the side as Hugh’s lips made their way from shoulder to neck, over Jon’s throat to end at his earlobe. Hugh’s fingers continued to work Jon’s nipples.
“He’s beautiful, Hugh. Tell him.”
Hugh’s dark eyes still held Will’s. “You’re right. He is beautiful and he tempts me each time I see him.” His tongue laved Jon’s cheek.
“Don’t tell me, I see his beauty. Tell him.”
Hugh paused. “You are so beautiful, Jon,” he whispered.
Jon’s eyes shuttered. Will wondered how often Jon had heard those words from Hugh. He’d hear more, if Will had anything to do with it.
“Move your hands to his belly, but don’t touch his cock.”
Hugh’s hands slid lower, his fingers passing just under Jon’s waistband. Jon’s cock was at full stand, a long, slender lump beneath the loose woolen breeches he wore.
“Touch him with the tips of your fingers.”
Eyes closed, Hugh kissed Jon’s neck and obeyed Will’s instructions. Jon gasped as Hugh’s fingers brushed against his swollen member.
Even though Will couldn’t see Hugh’s rod, hidden by Jon, it had to be straining by now. His was. Will longed to stroke himself. This game had taken him prisoner also. He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to control himself.
“Untie his laces. Slowly.”
Hugh’s hands found the strings and began working them as his eyes locked with Will’s. Damn, the intensity of Hugh’s stare tore through Will, puckering his nipples and his ass. Determined not to fall into Hugh’s trap, Will shot back a look that he hoped smoldered.
By the parting of Hugh’s lips, Will knew he’d hit his mark.
Jon’s pants fell to the floor. Hugh pushed down the cotton trews Jon wore and freed his rod. Jutting upward, it was as pale and pretty as Jon was. Slender, yet long, its shaft was only a few shades darker than Jon’s skin, but its full head blushed with blood. Desire leapt in Will. Jon’s rod looked truly delicious, as if it were some candied treat he wanted to taste.
“His rod is as pretty as he is, is it not?”
“Beautiful. And so sweet tasting.” Hugh ran his tongue around his lips, tempting Will. To give in would be utter madness. But Will had not lost his reason. Always, in the back of his mind, Jackson stood waiting.
Will spread his knees farther apart, displaying proof of his own endowment and let his hand slide upward to rest on the crease where his thigh met his loins. He rubbed his thumb over the bulge.
Jon stared at Will, his eyes wide, his pupils large and dark. As the lovers watched, Will ran his tongue over his bottom lip. There was no mistaking Hugh’s widening eyes or Jon’s shuddering sigh.
Hugh’s hands reached for Jon’s cock.
“I didn’t tell you to take it, did I?” Will drawled.
Hugh hissed and withdrew his hand. Jon whimpered and thrust his hips forward as if seeking even glancing relief. His cock rose, almost lying flat against his belly. Surrounding its base, blond hair curled like the soft white down of a duckling. A faint line of hair rose upward, faded, then disappeared at his navel. The hair on Jon’s thighs was just as fair and seemed to shimmer as if his legs were dusted with silver.
“Now you can touch him.”
Hugh lost not a moment in securing his grasp on that slender appendage and Jon cried out at being held, his backside pushing against Hugh’s loins. Hugh bent his knees, his hips adjusted against Jon’s ass. He stroked, his hand gliding in familiar rhythm up and down as Will watched. For long moments, all three men were locked in the grasp of mutual arousal, until Will could stand it no more.
“On your knees, Hugh.”
Jon groaned. Hugh shot Will a look, eyes narrowed, his lips twisted in a smirk.
“Jon, turn and face Hugh.”
Jon obeyed without hesitation, his hands balled into fists that pressed into his lean hips. He stood at rigid attention, awaiting instructions with all the concentration of a well-trained soldier. Will had no doubt he could march Jon off a cliff if he’d wanted.
Hugh hadn’t moved. A low growl rumbled in his throat.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t been on your knees before that sweet rod.”
Hugh smiled, showing bared teeth. “Many times.”
“Then kneel.” Will flicked his hand in a gesture of encouragement as one side of his mouth turned up in a grin.
If he could get Hugh on his knees, perhaps he could win this battle of sexual wits. Will wanted to best Hugh —inflame his desire, then deny him. It was selfish, Will knew it, but he couldn’t help himself from seeking a taste of revenge. Will’s cock throbbed, an aching sweetness that filled him with desire, but not for Jon or for Hugh.
He wanted Jackson and only Jackson.
Will swallowed as Hugh kneeled, sitting back on his boot heels, his hands rested on his thighs, as he waited for Will to tell him what to do.
Jon’s cock stood at attention. He glanced at Hugh and reached toward him.
“Don’t touch Hugh.”
Jon’s hands fell back to his sides.
“Hugh. Give Jon’s cock a thorough licking.”
Taking Jon’s rod in his hand, Hugh extended his tongue and took a slow swipe over the swollen head. Jon’s eyes squeezed shut as his body shuddered. His hands clenched open and closed at his sides, and his legs trembled.
Not being able to touch was as controlling as being told when, how, and where to touch. This control, this power Will wielded over these two men, intoxicated him as if he’d drunk far too much wine and believed he could do anything. He floated on a hazy cloud of lust, desire, and power that threatened to betray his ultimate mission.
Will fought his way out of the fog. Concentrating on the task at hand, he struggled to remember why he played this game and what was at stake if he lost.
Hugh lapped at Jon’s rod, his pink tongue wrapping around it, bathing the shaft in his moisture until it glistened. His hand held it up as he tasted the underside, tracking the thick vein as it rose to meet the head.
“Suck his stones.”
Without hesitation, Hugh moved lower, took one side of Jon’s sac into his mouth, and pulled away. The skin stretched, then with a pop, Hugh released it. Jon cried out, his fingers pulled at his own nipples as he fought not to bury them in Hugh’s ebony mane.
Hugh repeated his torture of Jon’s sac, moving from one side to the other as Jon wept and his legs shuddered at what incredible pleasure Will could only guess. When Hugh finally ceased and sat back, Jon collapsed to the floor. Hugh sat between Jon’s legs, bent at the knees and spread out as if they were the wings of some fallen angel.
“Suck him.”
Jon groaned and his hips thrust forward in a slow roll, primed to the basic rhythm built into every man. His cock slapped against his belly, stiff as a pole, demanding his lover’s attention.
Hugh sighed as he gazed down on Jon. For the first time, Will saw a flicker of something more than just lust in Hugh’s eyes. Could it be some tenderness? But in a blink it was gone, replaced by the unmistakable look of heated lust.
Bending over, Hugh took Jon’s rod in his hand, while his other hand massaged Jon’s thigh. Mouth open wide, he took Jon deep into his throa
t. As his head pulled up, the sides of his cheeks hollowed with the force of his sucking.
“God, oh God,” Jon cried out. His hands raked over his body and found his nipples again. Jon pinched, pulled, and ringed them until they were hard, reddened nubs.
Will watched as Hugh’s head rode up and down on Jon’s shaft. His own shaft lengthened, held captive behind his leathers, and begged its need to be sucked. Every so often, he spotted Hugh’s tongue as it wrapped around the shaft, then disappeared as Hugh sucked the engorged head. The wet sounds of his mouth and the soft moans that vibrated from Hugh’s throat told Will that Hugh was lost in the moment.
“Jon, you can touch Hugh now.”
Jon’s hands shot out and buried themselves in Hugh’s hair. Moaning, whimpering, Jon thrust his hips with rapid spasms as he lost control.
“I’m coming!” Jon cried out.
“Take him, Hugh. Swallow it down.”
Frenzied, Jon fucked Hugh’s mouth. His grip on Hugh’s head never lessened as he held on, searching, reaching for his release. For his part, Hugh’s attack on Jon’s rod never halted, the strength of his sucking never faltered as he brought his lover to orgasm. Jon shouted out Hugh’s name as his hips rose off the floor. Back arched, eyes closed, Jon gave his cream to Hugh.
Will almost spilled in his breeches.
The only sound in the room was the hard breathing of the three men. Jon lay on the floor, eyes closed, tears leaking from their corners. Hugh, his chest heaving, sat back on his heels as his tongue licked the last of Jon’s cream from his lips. Will struggled to control his panting, forcing his hands to lie still on his thighs.
One man had been satisfied. Two men left.
Hugh’s hungry gaze rose to meet Will’s in an unspoken promise of who would be next.
Jon rolled to his side and pushed himself up, his rod limp against his thigh.
“Jon, put on your clothes, and the both of you get out.”
Hugh’s head jerked. He glared at Will. Will’s lip curled up on one side.
The two men stood. Jon slipped into his clothes. The impressive outline of Hugh’s hard cock showed against the black leather he wore. His narrowed eyes never left Will, who was sprawled in the chair.
Jon tied off his laces and turned to leave. Hugh strode to the door and jerked it open.
“Jon, come here,” Will commanded.
Jon padded across the room to Will.
“May I give you a kiss goodbye?”
Falling to his knees, Jon shuffled between Will’s legs and placed his hands on Will’s thighs as he leaned forward. Cradling Jon’s head in his hands, Will took Jon’s mouth with a savage kiss, his tongue delving past Jon’s lips to taste his sweetness. As Will broke away, Jon whispered, “Help me.”
Will tilted Jon’s head and trailed a kiss or two to his ear. “After dinner. Here.”
Then they separated. As Jon rose, his hand brushed against Will’s erection and a flash of pleasure coursed through Will.
Hugh’s furious glare spoke of pain, agony, death. Will fought the urge to laugh. Did Hugh expect a kiss? Hugh may have wanted that and more from him, but Will would die in a cold field before he’d let Hugh touch him.
Jon scurried out the door.
“William, you will dine with me tonight. Alone. In my room,” Hugh growled and left, slamming the door behind him.
Will stood, walked to the bed, and fell onto it. Then, he untied his laces. Closing his eyes, he pictured Jackson and sought rough, rapid relief.
Chapter Fourteen
Will dressed for dinner with Hugh. Removing his vest, he pulled out the string that closed his shirt. As he gazed into the mirror, he assessed what he saw reflected. The braid that held his hair back emphasized his blue eyes, but his long hair was one of his best features. It certainly pleased Jackson. Will smiled.
For Jackson, he reached behind and undid the braid until almost all his hair hung free. Soft waves embedded from the braid rippled through the blond locks. Running his hand over his chin, he considered shaving, but that might be too much preening. He didn’t want to appear as if he cared how attractive Hugh found him.
All he wanted from Hugh was information about Jackson, and he was determined to get it. If not from Hugh, then perhaps from Jon. His hushed plea had sent shivers down Will’s spine. What the hell was going on here to make Hugh’s lover beg him for help?
The only reason Will had agreed to see Jon was because he’d been here when Jackson arrived. Chances were he knew just as much about what had happened as Hugh, and Jon might be more easily persuaded to tell it. Hell, Will knew he could charm the young man into telling him anything, but he didn’t wish to use Jon as Hugh had.
It was night now and the lantern light played his shadow on the nearby wall. The knock would come soon and he’d have to attend Hugh alone in his room. The bed would be right there.
Will snorted.
When had he and Hugh ever needed a bed to fuck in?
They’d fucked all over this castle, from the battlements at midnight to against the wall of the hall outside his door in the dawn. Hugh loved flaunting his sins, and the more risk of being caught, the more exciting for Hugh, and the better to shock his father.
Now, there was no one to shock and no one to hold Hugh in check. What would Baymore be reduced to with him in charge? Not his business, Will told himself. What happened inside the walls of a keep could be kept a secret, but only with discretion. Will knew that from living at Holcombe.
Hugh had no discretion, only immense self-importance.
Will shook his head and his hair fell about his shoulders. There. Good enough. Any more and it would be too obvious. Will had never really practiced the art of seduction—he’d relied on finding willing partners in his travels.
Hugh drew men to him as moths flew to a fire, especially young men. Hugh was a master at seduction. The heated look, the soft touch, the sweet words. Will remembered his own fall into that sweet pit and swore it would never happen again. It would be a careful line he’d walk tonight. One misstep and he could find himself in deadly trouble.
The rap came. Will stood, took a deep breath, and walked to the door. He opened it and looked at the young page standing in the hall.
“His Grace wishes you to join him for the evening meal. In his room.” The lad held out his hand to guide Will to Hugh’s room.
“I know where it is, lad.” Will stepped out and made his way down the hall with the page right behind him. He stopped at the door and let the boy open it.
Will stood in the doorway, crossed his arms, and leaned his hip against the frame. “I hope your cook is as good as the one at the inn.”
Hugh stood near a small table with his back to the door and answered without turning around. “He is. One thing my father actually did right.” Hugh turned and their eyes met.
Will felt the jolt to his bones. He wasn’t the only one who had dressed for the meal. Hugh wore only his leather breeches and a long white silken robe over it. The robe was unfastened, the belt ends hung, exposing Hugh’s chiseled chest and rippled belly. In the soft light of the lantern, Hugh’s hair shone blue-black. He was not a subtle man.
Will sauntered into the room. He was no longer an impressionable youth, infatuated with an older, more experienced man. Hugh may be older, but Will’s experience certainly matched his former lover’s. Reaching the table, Will leaned past Hugh and scanned the meal. He chose a small potato, popped it into his mouth, and chewed.
“Well?” Hugh raised an eyebrow.
“Delicious.” Will pulled out the chair and sat.
Hugh sat across from him and poured their wine.
“Not too much for me.” Will smiled.
“Afraid you’ll get drunk and I’ll have my way with you?” Hugh smirked.
“No. Have you forgotten you’ve already had your way with me? It didn’t suit you.” Will picked up his goblet and took a sip. “It’s good.”
“From my vineyard.”
Will n
oticed the ease in which Hugh called Baymore his, as if it were an old slipper worn for years. “Another thing your father did well.”
“Touché, William.” Hugh nodded. “I didn’t remember if you like duck,” he tossed off. Duck was Will’s favorite and at one time, Hugh had known that.
“Duck is fine.” Will shrugged. They both played their parts well, affecting the disinterest and boredom of the nobility.
Hugh placed a small roasted duck on Will’s charger as Will raked several potatoes onto it. There was a plate with a wedge of cheese and a loaf of bread. Pulling his blade from his boot, Will sliced a hunk of cheese off and placed it on his plate, then slipped the knife back.
The men ate. Blue eyes watched brown ones as teeth bit and tore meat from bones, tongues swiped juices from lips and chins, fingers were slowly sucked clean, but not a word was spoken until the last bite had been finished.
“The meal was fair.” Will gave Hugh a tilt of his head.
“I hope dessert will be better.” Hugh smiled as he leaned back in the chair, arm hooked over the back, his chest displayed. Dark, tight nipples sat on top of the sharp planes of his chest. A scattering of black hair covered the space between them and trailed invitingly down to his navel. A weaker man didn’t stand a chance against him.
“What do you plan on serving?” Will ran his finger around the rim of his goblet.
“That depends on you.” Hugh raised his cup toward Will, then sipped.
Will sat back, tossed his head, sending his mane cascading over his shoulder as his gaze raked Hugh’s body.
“Tell me of your father, Hugh. Had he been ill long?”
Hugh rolled his eyes. “Aye, for some time. But the physician ordered him to bed only a month ago. He had been worsening ever since.”
“The talk in town is that you poisoned him,” Will said, watching for Hugh’s reaction.
Hugh laughed. “Do you think I would be so foolish?”
“To poison your father?” Will raised an eyebrow.
