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But had he just saved the Royal Family from rot and revolution? He sincerely hoped not.
But he now owned an island called The Light. How deeply ironic was that?
* * *
Ben was washing the Maserati and his bike when Aleksey returned.
This sight did nothing to lessen his intense enjoyment of his current mood.
Stripped to the waist, soaking jeans, suds, Ben was contributing nicely to a day that seemed to be tipping the scales on heaven’s side again. Aleksey climbed out of his muddy Merc and joked cheerily what he suspected everyone did when they saw someone else washing a car, ‘If you’re feeling generous…’ In the nick of time, he realised Ben had a bucket full of water in his hands, so nipped into the garage out of range.
Ben came in, wiping his hands on a rag. ‘Well?’
Aleksey plucked the damp cloth from him and dropped it on the ground. He placed his hands on Ben’s chest, feeling pebbled nipples under his palms. ‘I will tell you later.’
‘No, I want—’ Ben’s breath literally went from him as he hit the wall. Aleksey had run his hand into the back of Ben’s hair, cradling his skull, before he drove Ben backwards. He could feel planed oak against his skin, smell water and wax, and Ben. Ben was kissing him, one leg bent up, hooked around his thighs, creating friction where they both enjoyed. Aleksey was struggling with his jacket. Ben helped him out, if not the seams, and his tie and linen shirt went the same way. Now both bare chested, more equal in this familiar dance, they slowed; furious, aggressive kissing giving way to ones offered on smiles and knowing looks, ones that tasted and explored.
Aleksey began to urge Ben’s head down. Ben, who’d been the one so gratuitously attacked, clearly felt his cock ought to be the one receiving such attention. Aleksey indicated his leg, and hopped his weight onto the other one, a Radulf-like move that always got the old mutt some sympathy. Ben guiltily and obediently lowered to his knees.
Aleksey smirked and braced himself on the wall, pressing his still clothed hips towards Ben’s face.
Ben bit into the obvious swelling behind the zip. Aleksey gasped in pain, but before he could physically protest this assault, Ben rose, hooked a foot behind his legs, and, holding tightly to him, tripped him to the ground. Then he sat on him.
He’d been floored in less time than it had taken him to drop a wet rag.
Ben grinned down at him. ‘I couldn’t have done that last week.’
‘I don’t think you’ll be able to do it tomorrow.’
‘Okay?’
Aleksey smiled at him and returned his hands to Ben’s chest, stroking his ribs. ‘It didn’t go too well last time you did this.’
Ben nodded. ‘Don’t laugh then.’
Aleksey began to chuckle. ‘Okay, I won’t.’
Smiling, Ben reached behind him and lowered Aleksey zip. Aleksey wriggled, Ben pushed, and the trousers were lowered just enough. Ben then braced himself one-handed over him as he struggled with his own jeans. One leg off was apparently enough, for he returned to keeling, used his hand to wipe a trickle pre-cum over the pale cock being offered to him, and took it in.
Ben gave him an eyes-narrowed, warning look, clearly not relishing the thought of another flop and slide-off debacle.
Aleksey put up with this disrespect for a fraction of a second and then rolled them both so he was on top, so he was in control. He put his arm down for Ben to rest his head on, curling his fingers around to play with Ben’s ear. They kissed for a while until light thrusts made them groan at the same time, breath and sound shared. Ben murmured against his lips, ‘Fuck me hard.’ He wrapped his legs around Aleksey’s back, squeezing them together so each increased thrust trapped and worked his cock between their hard abdomens. Their foreheads pressed together, eyes wide, each invigorated by knowing exactly what the other was experiencing, both receiving, both giving—this unique bond only two men could know.
Aleksey came like an explosion, but kept on thrusting, urging Ben on, pressing down onto him until he felt sweat joined by another hot fluid and all became slippery and eased and languid, and his nerves fired off and tingled as if he’d taken the very best pain drug ever invented.
Finally, he allowed his powerful body to relax into the all-encompassing warmth. He sank into Ben’s body, feeling the legs on his back drop, but arms take their place, a hold sealing flesh. Every muscle and joint eased, like ice melting and smoothing, and he pooled onto Ben, boneless and replete.
Ben began to play with his hair, combing his fingers through the blond strands. ‘Should I be worried you get back from seeing your ex-wife and your cock got here before you did?’
Muffled by Ben’s chest, Aleksey murmured, ‘You should be more worried, maybe, I come back from her empty?’
‘Funny. You are too heavy. Get off.’
‘I think that’s my line.’
‘It’s my back in jeopardy. This is a concrete floor.’ Ben, staring up into the rafters, flicked his ear. ‘In the garageagain. I used to see myself as your chauffeur with benefits once.’
‘Now you can be my pilot with similar benefits.’
