Rollo shivered.Again, a light fingertip traced down his crease.An impolite thigh shoved between his legs.
“I want these more apart,” his lord demanded.
Rollo spread as much as his yoked knees permitted.
Fitzsimmons’s hot breath gusted against his cheek in a long, hot sigh.“How eagerly you please me,first mate.”
The finger stroked his crease relentlessly.Teasingly light, too much yet not enough.Every pass skimmed, not settling where Rollo craved it most.With a frustrated moan, he arched back into the touch.Fitzsimmons kneaded his bare buttocks.
“This…” He breathed harshly, cupping one of them.“This is carved from the finest marble.”He groaned as, once more, he tracked the line of Rollo’s crease down to his ballocks, this time cupping them from behind.He rolled one gently between a finger and thumb.“You are well sculpted, pup.”
Rollo canted his hips, thrusting against nothing.His cock throbbed, seconds from spending, untouched.He followed orders, though his hands were not tied, merely held in position by that scorching breath against the back of his neck, praising him, promising him,owninghim.And that damnable finger glided up and down his crease, tapping against his drawn-up ballocks, almost, but never touching, his quivering hole.Beads of perspiration trickled down his temple; moisture leaked from his swollen shaft.
“Fitz…I…”
For the briefest of seconds, Fitzsimmons stepped away, leaving Rollo on the edge of freefall.And then a sharp smack rang out, searing his arse with a flash of pain.
“That’s for the devil inside of you,” Fitzsimmons purred, but before Rollo’s yelp of shock had chance to leave his mouth, a warm palm soothed his smarting cheek.Then smacked it again.“Your bottom infuriates me, pup,” he crooned, smoothing away the pain again.Rollo melted into his hand, gasping with pleasure.
“The way it moves whenever you walk away from me.”Fitzsimmons half laughed as if marvelling at his own foolishness.“Such a pretty shade of red you have turned.I am inclined to put the whole thing over my knee and give it another good, swift spank.”
The devil inside Rollo wanted that too, and he pushed his arse out in search of the delightful sting.The devil inside Fitzsimmons didn’t respond.Instead, he spat, rubbing the wetness into Rollo’s crease.He hawked again, adding to it.Then, huge, hard, and wanting, Fitzsimmons bare cock slotted against the groove.Two large hands covered Rollo’s, trapping them against the wall.
“I look at you, and I want so many things,” Fitzsimmons groaned, thrusting hard.“You tempt me, pup, you tease out my every weakness.You make me so I can think of nothing but this.”
Rollo whimpered, writhing with need.“Please,” he begged.“Please, I need to—”
“Shhh.”Fitzsimmons shoved two fingers into his mouth, stifling his moans.“You’ll be entertaining the entire household, my precious.And I want you to myself.”
His breath shuddered against Rollo’s nape as Rollo clamped down on the fingers, and Fitzsimmons slickly pleasured himself between his cheeks, every brush against Rollo’s hole an exquisite, unbearable torture.Wetness dribbled down Rollo’s shaft, a single stroke of a fist and he’d reach his crisis.Yet he still kept his hands against the wall.
Fitzsimmons’s thrusts turned more erratic, his breathing more ragged against Rollo’s nape.Almost painfully, his fingers dug into Rollo’s hip as every snap of his own brought him nearer to climax.
“Mine, mine, mine,” he panted.“My precious, precious pup.”
A guttural cry escaped his throat, and Rollo gasped as hot streaks of milky release, like the sharp welts of a whip, branded his tender backside.He felt Fitzsimmons smear it, and then a thick, slippery finger pressed inside Rollo.Fitz’s other hand reached around to Rollo’s cock and jerked it once, twice.
And Rollo shattered, neither Fitz’s firm hand nor his intrusive finger relenting until Rollo cried out, squirming away from sensations so sharp, so delicious, so unbearable, that for a moment, he quite forgot to breathe.If not for Fitzsimmons’s strong body, a veritable fortress of warmth and strength, then he might well have melted into a pool of jelly on the nursery floor.
*
“YOUR LEGS, DUCHAMPS-AVERY, they’re trembling.”
Rollo gave a shaky laugh.“I fear my bones have dissolved too.And…Rollo, please.Your hands have been everywhere.”
Taking his elbow, Fitzsimmons guided him to the settee.Naturally, the offer of using first names wasn’t returned.Wordlessly, Fitzsimmons hitched Rollo’s trousers back up to his waist, allowed him to collapse in an untidy sprawl, then took his usual seat across from him.For a long moment, they sat in silence.An overwhelming need for a snooze struck Rollo, and he’d have quite liked to indulge it in his lover’s arms.Alas, that was not to be.Instead, Fitzsimmons picked up his bow and pressed his thumb against the string, examining the tension.Then, taking his time, he selected an arrow and nocked it.His expression had become blank and remote, almost as if the last few minutes had never happened.
My precious.Ah, well.Men uttered all kinds of claptrap when overcome with the force of release.This man was an utter enigma, which Rollo was too drained to ponder.As Fitzsimmons brought the bow up to take aim, Rollo allowed his eyes to drift closed.At least he was no longer a target.He smiled sleepily as a pewter soldier rattled to the floor.
“May I ask why you do that?”
Fitzsimmons let out a long, troubled sigh before selecting another arrow.“Does it offend you?”
Rollo thought for a moment.“Not especially.As long as I’m over here and the pointy end of the arrow is over there.”
Another arrow thudded into another soldier.Just when Rollo thought Fitzsimmons might not answer, he began quietly speaking.
“Not so long ago, I had a terrible urge to kill myself.I planned to drown in the lake or succumb to an accident, a tumble from the roof or some such.Many times, I have climbed up there.Have even settled over the parapet, letting my legs dangle, contemplating the drop.Or agreed to let fate take its course.Would a puff of wind send me over the edge, or would I be spared?Would I trip on a loose slate?”He slotted another arrow.“I’d wonder if my death would be instant, or whether I’d survive the fall but spend the remainder of my days boxed up in a chair, sucking soup through a straw, and having my arse wiped by a woman paid a lot of coin to make a decent job of it.”
