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Ben nodded as if this only confirmed something he was thinking.
Aleksey didn’t like Ben thinking. Over the four years that they’d both enjoyed this strange liaison, Ben had grown increasingly odd in this thinking thing.
In Aleksey’s humble opinion, there was only room for one odd person in any relationship. Liaison. Mutual fucking.
Ben began to unbutton Aleksey’s shirt. It wasn’t desperate, no cloth was ripped.
Each button was studied and then released.
If Aleksey didn’t know better, he would have said he was being slowly seduced.
It wasn’t what they did, so he batted the hands away and went to top up his wine.
“You drink too much.”
Aleksey jerked back. Firstly, they didn’t converse, and if they did, this conversation wouldn’t include criticism of him.
“Did you eat anything at all?”
Aleksey grinned wolfishly, a suitable reply to this very close to the surface, but with his back to Ben, what emerged was merely a pointed, “You eat enough for us both, I have observed.”
He turned and provocatively drank the entire glass of wine then carefully replaced the goblet on the bench.
Then he flattened Ben against the wall of the pavilion. It wobbled a little at the force of the impact. With one arm across the other man’s throat, he began to work on Ben’s belt buckle. They fought like this all the time, but remembering his masks, staying out of the limelight, Aleksey habitually shielded his real strength. Normally, he let Ben think he was the stronger, faster, more vicious one.
Not tonight. Ben had pushed past his allotted boundaries. It was hard enough, this life, without being shown what existed on the other side of deceit.
Ben attempted to remove the arm from his throat, but even one-armed Aleksey had the needed edge—he was willing to really hurt Ben, and Ben, he sensed, would be wary of doing so to him. He was his boss, after all.
Ben switched from trying to relieve the pressure on his throat to holding off the assault on his clothes. That didn’t work either, because Aleksey only took the opportunity to use both hands to flip Ben face first against the wall and pin him there with his own weight.
Very carefully, he put one hand to Ben’s face and felt the artful stubble beneath his fingers. Just as Ben had done, he ran his fingernails down the skin, but he dug in and marked him. He leant into Ben’s neck and whispered, “I own you, Benjamin Rider. Not the other way around. Remember that. I will not tell you again.”
He felt the other man stop struggling, wondered if he was merely playing his usual trick, but relaxed a little to allow Ben to turn in his arms.
Their faces were incredibly close, mere inches away. He saw Ben’s gaze flick down to his lips, but he obviously didn’t attempt a kiss. Benjamin Rider clearly understood the unspoken rules. Instead, he lowered his head to Aleksey’s neck and nipped him. But it was only a distraction, as Ben then stuck his foot behind Aleksey’s and pushed him so he tripped and fell on his back with the full weight of the muscled body heavy upon him.
Ben now turned his attention to Aleksey’s naked chest and Aleksey knew what was coming, tried desperately to squirm free. It didn’t work and a savage bite to his left nipple made him arch and choke off a genuine moan of pain. He also anticipated the next move, however, and closed his eyes to enjoy it more.
Ben suckled at the wound he’d made; a kiss of sorts, Aleksey supposed—lips to his flesh anyway. The contrast of sensations went straight to his cock, as Ben had known it would, and he didn’t care then about power or what role he was supposed to be playing. He scrabbled beneath Ben to release himself; Ben was doing the same, desperate now to shed clothing, and then they were naked, Ben still sitting on him, and the obvious solution came to them both at the same time.
Ben rose up and slowly lowered himself back down onto Aleksey’s hard erection.
They had not done this before.
Four years, and they had found something new.
Aleksey saw in Ben’s expression that he too recognised that this was different. Letting another man fuck you was one thing. Lowering yourself willingly onto a man’s cock was another. Ben took a moment, breathing deeply.
There was nowhere to put his hands except on Aleksey’s chest, so he did just that. He spread his fingers, then cupped them around Aleksey’s ribs, then moved them once more, and Aleksey closed his eyes to the extreme pleasure of this almost-stroking sensation. And then Ben began to raise and lower himself, dipping forwards so his movements encompassed Aleksey too, ensuring he was pleasuring them both.
Ben finally put his forehead down on the pale chest beneath him. His hair brushed Aleksey’s chin. Almost unthinkingly, Aleksey lowered his mouth and pressed it to the short strands. Thoughts then zeroed in on the exquisite fragrance of whatever Ben used in his hair, and he smelt deeply, imprinting the scent in his mind. Finally, reluctantly, but because he could not resist, he brought his arms up and enfolded Ben so tightly in their strong embrace that nothing could have torn them apart as the powerful surge and withdrawal upon him continued.
Sometimes, he reflected, showing someone how strong you really were could be extremely pleasurable for both.
* * *
Aleksey had thought they were over the awkwardness of the aftermath of sex. He assumed this phase had to be overcome by everyone, even actual couples, but as he had no experience of a relationship, this stayed just an assumption.
