Ideas of Sin

by Cooper, R.

  The suddenness of it was what tricked him, beguiled him into turning his head and looking upon James as he began to pleasure him, nothing more, not even the warm, exclamation muttered against his cock at that moment. But he continued to stare straight ahead, watching with wide eyes as James’ full, rosy mouth covered part of him, and then twitching uncontrollably when a curious tongue tasted the liquid that leaked steadily from him.

  It hurt, that simple little touch, and René’s lips fell open the slightest bit, expelling air in small, heated amounts. Fire rushed through his veins and under his skin, filling him to bursting with hot, wicked flames the gathered in his stomach and then lower. They licked him sweetly, teasing as much as James was doing unintentionally now.

  James had been both clumsy and eager in Tortuga, closing his mouth around his cock and sucking wantonly, with little attention paid to finesse and pace. But…René would not allow himself to dwell on the drunken pleasure that had filled him, just as he had not allowed himself to watch James on his knees in the dirt then but had closed his eyes to the sight. He frowned for watching it even now, for wanting it from such an innocent, and he looked out again into the sunlight until it burned his eyes and water trickled from them.

  That he said nothing did not seem to matter to James, his careful exploration continued, just as slowly as he had done months ago on the ship with his hands and a few days before in the tub of cool water. His lips tightened around his shaft’s hardness and then relaxed, the tip of his tongue skimming along and around and then under with the same innocent curiosity, until René clutched fistfuls of the tangled sheets and nearly tore them out from under himself.

  His body seemed to leap upward at the same time, pushing itself further into the mouth he so often thought of as pure, wanting to be inside of it until he could go no further, wanting to be inside of James no matter how wrong it was. He wanted to fuck him now, put off this moment and take James as he should have when he had first seen him here. He ached at the thought, a pleasurable agony building around his balls.

  James grew motionless at his action, surprise reverberating through his body to René’s underneath, but it only lasted a bare moment, and then slowly, almost anxiously, he lowered his head, allowed more of the shaft inside his mouth, until René could feel the head of his cock against the back of the younger man’s mouth. Then James stopped, breathing heavily through his nose, his tongue twitching against the vein along the base of his cock, sending more waves of pleasure roaring through him until René’s hands in the bedding could no longer stop him from releasing a tortured breath.

  It hovered in the air, his half-strangled moan, mingling with the smooth sounds of James moving on the silken sheets, rubbing the ends of his velvet coat against the whispering fabric as he shifted his position slightly.

  René went still as well, heart pounding and body flushed, feeling only the warmth of that mouth and the soft wet pressure of muscles moving against his cock as James swallowed nervously. He was not inside much at all, not as much as René could have taken, but it felt like enough, too much, and yet not close to enough. He hesitated, hanging onto himself for as long as he could, and then jerking, almost imperceptibly, moving his hips upward when he could not take anymore.

  It pleased him, René realized with a dizzy rush of pleasure before repeating the action; it pleased him to be attended to by James like this. Sweat ran down from the line of his hair at his forehead, stinging into his eyes though they were already wet, and he let it. The feeling did not disturb the sensation at all, enhancing it instead as he compared it to the sweetness of James’ mouth. He reveled in both, arching his lower back from the bed. The pain to remind him it was real, and James…James to consume him like hellfire, the sun beaming down on him. So hot and blinding that even closing his eyes could not hide him any longer.

  He arched up again, flinging out his hands until they were buried in long, thick hair and then wrapping around it as it were a collection of golden rings not to be lost.Treasure, his mind whispered quietly, and then as if in reply, James moved at last.

  A strong hand urged René’s hips back to the bed while another curled around his shaft and held it firmly enough that the blood already throbbing there seemed to pound like thunder. Lightening speared through his middle and then coiled so tightly that it hurt, making him shove against the bed toward James, over and over until sweat made his skin slick and his hands lose their hold on the mattress. René did not stop the groan that was pushed from him this time, did not even think to try.

  “Yes, James,” he murmured in any language, he did not know which, and pulled demandingly on the other man’s head as his lips tightened and slid back up. His tingling, aching, wet prick left cold and wanting where James’ mouth no longer protected it, and he shuddered savagely and thrust his body back up.

  “No,” he said, contradicting himself though he did not hear it or care. He trembled when James just continued to pull away until just the tip of his cock remained between his welcoming lips and then jerked his head from the pillow when James moved the hand holding him and increased the pressure slightly. His mouth returned, sliding slowly back tortuously, the only thing that let René fall back onto the feather stuffed silk, gulping for breath.

  He could see images in the sunlight now, shifting, wingéd phantoms, and a small cry worked its way through his lips, making him sound as afraid as a child. He pushed his body up to meet James’ descent, thrusting his way further inside of him until James grunted. He tossed his head at the same time, turning from one side to the other, searching, trying to fix on something. The angel on the ceiling was beyond him, too far away to see now, and when James grunted against his prick again, this time something greedy in the sound, René lifted himself up to stare at him. As he had been dying to do.

  His own hands and arms blocked most of the other man’s face. But René could see enough, and could feel what he could not see, something making him shiver despite the sun. James was strong, this stubborn force laving his cock with careful, studious attention and then drawing on it fiercely in the next moment, as though he had had enough of study.Why, some part of René still questioned, but whatever the answer could be was nothing when James looked up over the rim of his narrow glasses and met his gaze.

  René’s breath tangled in his throat and he threw his head back though his eyes remained caught by the warm desire in the young eyes before him. He watched his body push up and down, his cock pumping in and out of James’ flushed mouth, and saw as he did that the heat in James’ eyes never faded.

  “James,” he whispered without being certain why and then gasped at the sudden fierce pull on the head of his cock, the possessive grip that stroked up so firmly that he moaned. His whole body tightened, lurching frantically off the bed to be closer to the hard, dragging suction of James’ lips and tongue. René wondered why again as his thoughts splintered east and west and all that was left was a frantic, feverish pleasure. His want stabbed through him like a saber, and he yanked hard on James’ hair as his body jerked still.

  Hot streams of his spunk seemed to tear out of him, pouring into James’ waiting mouth in painful spurts that left him weakened, and the floating spirits teased his vision with each and every shudder of release just as the sun still burned his eyes, making the other man seem like an image of delirium.

  René closed his eyes at last and fell back, still haunted by the colored angels. For a few moments, he only laid there, unable to do more than watch them as they slowly melted into the light. His throat was dry and scratching, though it was nothing to the ache and hurt in his mouth where he had nearly bitten through his bottom lip to hold in his words.

  Of course they faded, he thought dimly when his mind had cleared enough at last for him to think. Of course they would be gone, he reaffirmed slowly and coughed to ease his hoarse throat. A small cough followed his, and he flung up his heavy eyelids to stare at James in confusion, pressing his head back into the pillows at the same time.

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nbsp; James was used. Traces of his seed still hung from his lips-his red, swollen lips, and his throat was working with his efforts to swallow the rest. Blooms of crimson coloured his cheeks, shame, René imagined darkly, or humiliation. But there was a brilliant sparkle in the brown eyes that met his, and a hesitant smile before James wiped his mouth with his hand. His lips still moved, as if tasting his spunk, and René remembered Tortuga, and how James had spit back up into the dirt, his whole face twisted with disgust.

  Why, Rene wanted to ask as he tried to slow his breathing. Why had James done this now? The word caught in his throat and when he opened his mouth only inanities came out.

  “You are all right?” he asked slowly, his tongue as thick and clumsy as most Englishmen’s. James let out one breath, nodded, and then adjusted his spectacles before responding. “A…and you?” The stumbling René had not heard from him in months had returned, and his cheeks flushed even darker as he spoke. “I mean to say…was it…good?” A frown marred James’ face at that and he did not seem to notice how René blinked several times. Then he grinned, unable to hide the amusement this foolishness gave him. Confused and embarrassed, James was looking to him for guidance, and he pushed his body up with a new energy to answer.

  “You mean you cannot tell? Not with my seed still burning down your throat?” He raised one brow in cool inquiry and saw the spark of anger light the other man’s eyes. His smile disappeared as well, and René felt his pleasure dim, though he continued to grin, for James was off his guard and could not hide his thoughts anymore.

  “I…” James choked and turned his head away. It was shame René saw now, shame and fury that would turn James sick inside until eventually his insides would be as rotted as a corpse in an iron gibbet. His own stomach turned and clenched until it pained him but he merely pressed a hand to it, curling his fingers at the spot where James had kissed the skin.

  “James,” he called out softly and then whispered it lowly once more when James did not answer. A brief look, tight with strong emotion was all the reply he received, and then James moved to get up from the bed.

  His blood coursing through him so furiously that his heart seemed to skip, René leapt up, startling James he was sure, since the younger man froze and turned to look at him with wide eyes. René hesitated on his knees for the barest moment in time, and then pounced, taking advantage of James’ surprise and throwing him back onto the mattress. He leaned over him in the next moment, and tore the linen of his pants in order to sink his hands under the smooth fabric and touch James more intimately.

  He was aroused, thick and hard against his hand and René let out a small, relieved breath before glancing into James’ sparking, furious gaze. The other man had landed awkwardly; his head was only a handsbreath away from the edge of the bed, and his knees were bent where he had been kneeling before. One of his hands was on the bed beside him, the fingers spread widely. The other, James brought up and slapped around the wrist of the hand steadily stroking his prick. It forced René to stop, though he did not remove his hand, and René frowned at James, frustration making him curse.

  James glared back with his damned English stubbornness and tightened the grip on his hand, demanding an explanation and René was disconcerted to realize that he did not have one. He searched his mind for a reason and then wrapped his fingers around the firm warmth of James’ cock until James shifted the smallest amount underneath him. Then he made himself smile.

  “You have not yet had your pleasure,” he murmured lazily and saw James’ eyelids flicker. The shaft under his fingers twitched. Oh yes, James knew that he offered him pleasure. But he still did not move, and the muscles of his legs and stomach remained hard and unforgiving.

  He did not like that, both that James was upset and that James was resisting him and he scowled in irritation. More than irritation, anger,rage, that James was asking things of him, defying him. He did not have to give pleasure, it was his choice. Hischoice.

  “I do not have to please you!” René shouted at him, biting back other words with an effort that left him shaking. James’ eyes grew round, his mouth gaping slightly and René recalled how it had tightened around his cock in those first few moments with an innocent desire to taste him. His body tingled painfully at the memory, the blood stirring and rushing between his legs in a throbbing flood until he was stiffening for the second time in the few moments they had been awake. The sweet mouth that had prayed for him had pleasured him and he wanted it again now, to hear it call his name and say that it wanted him.

  “I want you.” The words were hoarse and quiet, and he uttered them with his eyes on the cloth of James’ still-buttoned waistcoat. It was only so that he might continue; ease the ache that James had once again created in him. James did not seem to hear, or did not wish to respond, and the silence was like the needle pushing into his torn skin to bind it together with thread.

  “Do you seek to cozen me, Mistress?” James wondered finally in a hushed voice, and René raised his head with a frown of bewilderment. James was watching him intently with one raised eyebrow and René’s displeasure increased to see it. There was a secret amusement in James’ eyes, as if he had spoken something clever and full of wit, and it was most certainly a jest at his expense.

  “ Que signifie-t-il, cozen?” he demanded immediately, ignoring for the moment the female title that James had given him. He fisted the hand resting on James’ stomach until the fabric filled his palm and mangled it. The hand still wrapped around James’ cock tightened as well, making the blood throb more insistently against his fingertips. James shifted his hips slightly and pulled in small gasping breath before speaking.

  “Do you seek to…?” James stopped there, his gaze dipping down to his chest and René’s fisted hand, seeming to search for what to say. René narrowed his eyes; the sudden smile to curve the other man’s lips could not mark anything other than scorn to answer his mockery before. A flush stained James’ cheeks, the colour of ripe berries, and then James raised his eyes. “…Lie with me?” he finished softly, the same embarrassment that coloured his face making his voice a whisper.

  His eyes were warm, bright. Laughter and desire melted together in them like the sweet sugar and spicedchile water in Spanishchocolate. René stared back at him without blinking, trying to think or understand the strange English phrase. Instead his mouth only thirsted for a taste of the drink now. He had never cared for it before. He felt as if he would die for some at this moment he wanted it so badly.

  He licked his parched lips and then blinked at last, focusing again on James. “Lie with me,” he repeated slowly, and felt his heart swell and pound in his chest when James nodded. “No,” René shook his head instantly and slid his hands away from James’ cock, lying next to the other on his stomach, knowing that he still did not fully understand. He smoothed the wrinkles he had created and then flicked a look upward into James’ confused eyes. The move brought him down closer to James, though he was not yet lying down.

  They were very different from the words James usually chose to describe passion, and he could not quite grasp the meaning of the phrase. Two people lying together seemed a thing of peace, for children and old married people. It also made him remember when he had woken to see James next to him, and had wanted him. He still wanted him; he burned with it.

  The English, he decided at last, would come up with a thousand ways to talk of fucking instead of simply fucking. But the words would not leave his mind. “Lie with me,” he said again, forcefully, and when James nodded his consent, slid quickly down over the length of James’ body until they were face to face and his body could not get closer. He only vaguely cared that he had asked, and forgot the matter completely when James crushed their mouths together.

  René opened his mouth in a sigh and leaned in further, guided by strong hands at the back of his neck. Fingers curled into his hair and angled his head, and he allowed it, groaning his approval when James’ pushed his tongue into his mouth. James’ lips were hard n
ow, insistent, and René panted against them as the kiss went on, bolts of pleasure streaking down his spine until he was shifting rapidly on top of James’ body in an effort to dispel them.

  With each desperate movement the growing hardness of his cock brushed against linen that was hot and slick from James’ sweat and the aching prick under it, and another flood of blood down to his belly left him weakened and dizzy. He broke off the kiss and sucked in a breath, only to find his hands reaching around James’ head to pull him up for another. He slid his tongue easily between James’ shocked lips and then slid it back out, tracing their firmness curiously. He had not truly kissed James before.

  “ Doux,” he murmured into them, shivering when James echoed the word back at him and his breath left warm trails on his face. Before him was James’ smooth skin, flushed with heat, and beneath him was his sculpted, equally heated form, hidden only by two paltry layers of fabric, and when James again cried out into his mouth, his hands jerked away from the throbbing pulse on either side of the man’s neck and wrapped themselves around his embroidered waistcoat.

  One quick pull and the expensive garment was torn open. René did not bother to look for the lost buttons, merely shoved the stiff material to the side and snuck his hands under the loose linen of the shirt James wore underneath.

  James pushed up from the bed as René’s questing fingers found his nipples, bringing their bodies even closer together and it was difficult for him to control the way his cock rubbed against James’. A low, wanting sound came from James and René tasted it with pleasure as he closed his thumb and forefinger around one nipple and pinched it slowly, increasing the pressure until James yanked his mouth away to pull in several hoarse breaths.

  Wide eyes found his and René smiled before rolling the sensitive bit of skin between his two fingers. James jerked up from the bed again, crushing his hands between their forms for a moment and René punished him with a sharp tug on the now sore flesh. It ought to be rosy from his caresses, and René moved his body so that he could better lean over James’ chest, and then pushed up the bottom of the shirt so that it was bunched up at the other man’s neck and he had an unimpeded view of his James.