Eli nodded and quickly darted away.
Tristan slid a hand to Austin’s inner thigh. “Has he?”
“He dresses me every day, don’t be odd. You hired him for me, didn’t you? Or are you going to rescind your generosity?”
Tristan gazed up at Austin with pointed intensity. “I did… But I admit, I’m not too fond of the idea of you making use of all his skills.” A finger traced a straight line down the centre of Austin’s shaft, the tiniest scrape of a fingernail causing his nerves to begin firing. Desire crept through Austin. He could not look away from Tristan’s eyes.
“All his skills?”
Tristan carefully wrapped his fingers around Austin’s length, his grip warm.
Austin’s eyes widened. “He’s trained to pleasure me?”
“Unless he didn’t sneak intothoselessons,” Tristan said. “You’d have to ask him to be sure, but if he was aiming for a position like he has gained here, then I doubt he skipped them.”
The idea was so bizarre that Austin laughed. He recalled Connor, and his fury when he’d thought Austin had cheated on him with their classmate. There had been no forgiveness. Austin might as well have been dead as far as he cared. The rejection had hurt, deeply. Somehow, though the crime had been imagined, Austin had still been punished and condemned for it.
Austin adjusted his weight, angling himself so that his hardened cock could slide neatly into Tristan’s palm. “Is there any sin you would not forgive me for?” He tilted his head back and drew deep, controlled breaths, but already a light tremble shook him. Pleasure rose in waves as Tristan worked him with one hand, wetting his fingers with precum from Austin’s tip.
“None that I can think of.” Tristan raised his knees, allowing Austin to lean against them for support. Sweat began to bead on Austin’s body, and his toes curled in the silk sheets. His steady breaths gave way to pants, then to little groans.
Tristan worked him with a firm, practised grip. The soft squelch of it left Austin humming in agitated delight, undone by the sheer dirtiness of the sound.
A distressing thought cut through the centre of his pleasure.
With a growl, Austin found himself gripping Tristan’s throat, leaning over the merman. Tristan’s hand did not stop, but his pupils flared wide as Austin bore down on him. “Doyouhave an attendant?”
“Char attends me—”
“Char gives you handjobs? That old man!”
Tristan flipped Austin onto his back, dislodging the hand on his throat. “That remark—” He did not finish the sentence.
Austin growled back, baring his teeth. “You know what I was asking.”
Tristan seized Austin by the hips and flipped him again. The mattress bounced Austin against Tristan’s firm chest. Fingers curved over his ribs, and Tristan slid his hand down Austin’s stomach, taking a firm hold of him once more as he trailed taking kisses down Austin’s spine.
Austin arched into his touch, shifting enough to get his hips lifted and to give Tristan more room to work. He clutched the pillow his face had been rudely buried into—something he would avenge later—and let the stuffed feather luxury muffle a moan.
Halfway down Austin’s spine, Tristan stiffened.
“Ah.”
The sound fell hot against Austin’s back.
Austin twisted to peer over his shoulder through wet eyes. Tristan’s knees bracketed Austin’s hips, thick thighs leading to a great and jutting cock, the tip a glistening, wet purple. Tristan was leaning over, poised to deliver another kiss at any moment, but his expression was caught in something close to pain.
“Did I hurt you?” Austin asked in alarm. Had he used the power of his voice? Had it sprung up from anger at Tristan for flipping him over without asking? A muddle of confusiongrew. Austin hadn’t been angry. Nor upset or overwhelmed or defensive. But there was a simmer in his blood, joining in a delightful dance with his desire and need.
“The opposite,” Tristan said thickly. Goosebumps covered his arms.
Austin’s gaze moved once more between Tristan’s legs. His erection was an iron bar against his stomach. His tip looked painful.
Tristan noticed Austin’s worried look and caught his gaze. “This,” Tristan said pointedly, “isalsohappiness. Do not misread me, my sweet. I’m happier here than anywhere else in the world. Now, if you’ll allow me…” His kisses continued, vertebrae by vertebrae descending until his mouth was at the swell of Austin’s buttocks.
When Austin’s body trembled too much to keep watching, he buried his face into the pillow once more, suffocating himself on humid, heavy breaths as Tristan’s hand, slick with lube, steadily worked Austin’s cock in firm strokes. Warmth and wetness closed around Austin’s balls as Tristan sucked them into his mouth.
Tristan swallowed.
