Kane, Samantha - Brothers In Arms 4 (15 page)

Ian rose to his knees and leaned over Derek, supporting his weight on his fists by Derek’s shoulders. He adjusted his hips and pressed his cock into Derek’s ass. The first few inches were the hardest, pushing his head past the tight ring of muscles that guarded Derek’s passage so well. It was a sweet, vicious torture for Ian every time. If he could get past the entrance without coming, he knew he’d last for a good, hard fuck.

But there had been times when he’d barely gotten inside and he’d come before

thrusting even once, the tight, burning heat of Derek’s ass driving him over the edge.

Derek’s neck and upper back arched sharply, pushing his chest into the air as he grabbed at the bedsheets above his head. “Ian,” he cried out, his voice strangled. Yes, it was a sweet torture for him as well. He’d told Ian that those first few inches frequently crossed the line between pain and pleasure and then back again. For Derek, short of climax it was one of the best parts of fucking Ian.

Ian was breathing heavily, his nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

He focused on the pulse in Derek’s neck as he pushed until he was halfway inside, then he paused. He closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment, just enjoying the

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overwhelming sensations of heat and tightness. Derek relaxed with him as he slowly adjusted to Ian’s width.

“More,” Derek whispered, bringing one hand down to grip Ian’s forearm. Ian

opened his eyes and looked directly into Derek’s intense stare. “More,” he repeated.

Ian’s eye was caught by the glitter of a drop of sweat running down Derek’s temple. He looked and saw Derek’s hair was wet and curling with perspiration, and suddenly he could feel the heat and sweat of their passion on his own skin. It added a new layer of sensation, of decadence, to their intense fuck. He didn’t answer Derek with words, instead he gave him what he desired. With a strong thrust he slid the rest of the way into Derek.

Derek’s neck arched again and he groaned loudly.

“Is that what you wanted, Derek?” Ian’s question was soft and menacing. “I’ll give you what you want, what you beg me for.” Ian pulled back and then thrust in again and Derek angled his hips more to take Ian deeper. Ian laughed darkly at Derek’s complete surrender to him. “Spread your legs wider and bend your knees more. I want to get closer, deeper.” His commands harsh, Ian pushed forward, forcing Derek’s legs farther apart. Derek whimpered and Ian felt the beast inside him stir and stretch. “Cry for it,”

he told Derek roughly at the same time his thrusts became less controlled, faster and harder.

Derek cried out and clutched at Ian’s arms with both hands now. “Put your hands above you, against the headboard.” Derek didn’t obey, and Ian repeated the order louder, breaking through Derek’s sexual haze. Slowly Derek complied while Ian

stopped moving and waited.

“Why?” Derek questioned breathlessly.

“Because I don’t want you to hit your head on it.” Derek shuddered and closed his eyes. Ian would have none of that. He reached one hand over and fisted Derek’s hair tightly, pulling it hard enough to make his eyes fly open. “Don’t you close your eyes.

Look at me. Watch me fuck you. Watch me.”

Derek kept his eyes open and trained on Ian’s face as Ian began to fuck him again.

His motions were smooth, practiced, but each thrust increased in intensity until Derek’s whole body was jerking with each one, only his arms braced over his head keeping him from sliding forward. At that point, Ian adjusted his angle just a fraction and Derek couldn’t stop the loud, harsh cry that ripped from his throat. Oh yes, Ian knew just how to fuck Derek until he cried with the pleasure of it.

The pleasure, however, was a double-edged sword. The rippling of Derek’s muscles with each plunge of Ian’s cock, Derek’s throaty cries, the heat, the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, the feel of Derek’s balls and hard cock caressing his lower stomach with each thrust drove Ian closer and closer to his own climax.

“Who owns you, Derek?” Ian panted demandingly, rising to his knees, grabbing

Derek’s thighs and spreading them so he could watch his cock go in and out of his ass.

“Who owns you?”

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“Ian,” Derek groaned.

“Come for me, Derek. Do it, now.” The command was all Derek needed. He cried

out harshly and bent forward as cum shot from his cock to cover his stomach. He jerked over and over until he was spent and fell back. Ian slid his arms under Derek’s thighs and gripped his hips. He fucked hard into him, pulling Derek down on his cock with each thrust and Derek grunted with each harsh penetration. In moments Ian roared wordlessly as his semen filled Derek and he could feel its heat and wetness surround his cock inside him. The pleasure was so intense Ian’s vision wavered, and when the waves of orgasm quieted he felt weak as a babe.

He gently collapsed on top of Derek. He gripped Derek’s hair again, shaking him out of his post-orgasmic lassitude. When Derek opened his eyes and focused on him, Ian leaned over and lay his lips against Derek’s before he spoke.

“I love you, you fucking idiot. Do you believe me now?”

Derek laughed weakly. “Right now you could tell me the moon was made of cheese

and I’d believe you, Ian. Ask me again tomorrow after your wedding.”

Ian sighed and rolled off Derek to pull him close. Derek curled into him, his head on Ian’s shoulder and his arm and leg across Ian as if to hold him there. Right before falling into a deep sleep, Ian spared one more thought to worry about Sophie.

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Ian woke up abruptly, disoriented but quite sure something was amiss. It took him a moment to acclimate himself and inventory before he discovered what it was. Derek had gotten out of bed and was even now trying to slink out of the room with a handful of clothes.

“It’s been years since we felt the need to sneak out of one another’s beds in the morning, Derek,” he said quietly, clearing his throat when he heard how tired and raspy his voice sounded.

Derek froze in place, his hand arrested where it was reaching for the doorknob.

“I can’t do it, Ian,” Derek said, and Ian was surprised by the anguish in his voice.

Had he missed something? Do what? He rolled to his back and sat up, rubbing his face to clear the cobwebs from his brain.

“I’m still half asleep, darling. You’re going to have to be a little more specific. What exactly did I ask you to do?”

Derek turned slowly to face him, and Ian was alarmed to see tears on his cheeks.

“Good God, Derek, what the hell is the matter?” Ian quickly rose from the bed and started across the room to his lover’s side. He stopped when Derek held up his hand.

“What day is today, Ian?”

Ian shook his head, trying to follow the conversation, but he was so bloody tired.

He and Derek had loved long into the night. He looked out the window and saw a

weak sun just over the horizon. And then he remembered.

He looked back at Derek, at a complete loss as to how to make things better for him.

“It’s my wedding day,” he said softly.

Derek’s eyes closed and he took a deep breath. He opened them before speaking

again, but wouldn’t look at Ian. “I know I said I’d try, but I can’t be there, Ian. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” He tried a smile and it was painful for Ian to see the effort it took. “Besides, I’ll hardly be in a celebratory mood. I’d more than likely turn the event into a wake instead.”

Ian couldn’t stop his burst of hurt laughter at Derek’s words. “Yes, I suppose you probably would. My bride is frightened enough as it is. It is the height of chivalry for you not to subject her to your misery.” He was angry. He tried not to be, but he was.

“I’m sorry, Ian—”

“I am too, Derek.” Ian turned and walked stiffly over to his robe lying on the floor.

He picked it up and donned it with jerky movements. “This is probably one of the most important days of my life, and you, as usual, refuse to support me. I don’t know why this comes as a shock.”

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Derek ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I have every right—”

“Spare me your pathetic excuses, Derek.” Ian’s voice was cold. “I’ve heard them all.

Hell, I’ve made most of them for you in the last several years.” He turned his back and crammed his hands in his pockets. “So when shall I see you again? The next time you need me to act as stud? Will you send a note ‘round when you need a good fuck?”

Derek cursed and threw the clothes he was holding at Ian’s back.

“Don’t act the fucking victim, Ian. This whole marriage mess was your idea. I’m the one who’s suffering. I’m the injured party.”

“Ballocks.” Ian turned angrily to face Derek, kicking at the clothes now around his feet. Derek stood in nothing but his trousers, feet and chest bare. “You’re the selfish bastard here, Derek, not the victim.” Ian grabbed handfuls of his blond hair and pulled as he growled his frustration and rage. “I don’t know what else to do to prove to you that I love you! I’m doing this for us! Derek, we can’t go on this way. You can’t go on this way. You refuse to listen to me.” Suddenly defeated, he collapsed into a chair before the cold hearth. He felt tears gathering and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I want more. I’m sorry I want children, and a wife. I’m sorry I want to make you happy.

I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I’m just so bloody sorry, Derek.”

“Ian,” Derek’s voice was no longer angry.

“I’m sorry I’m losing you,” Ian choked out. “I’m sorry that I tried to force my vision of our future on you. I’m sorry that I thought it would be wonderful to have another person love us, a new beginning. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes and let a tear leak out of one. “Is it enough? Am I sorry enough?”

Derek sighed. “You manipulative bastard,” he said calmly.

Ian sat forward in his chair and with lips thinned raked his hand through his hair.

“Do you think I’m happy about how low I’ve sunk here?” he cried.

Derek studied him shrewdly. “You must want this very badly, Ian.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’ve never used tears on me before.” Derek walked over and bent down and

retrieved his clothes.

“They’re genuine?” Ian tried hopefully.

Derek snorted in disgust.

“All right.” Ian sighed. “What will it take, Derek?”

“Don’t bother. The tears worked.” Derek started to walk away but spun back

around. “Call it off, Ian. There’s still time.”

“And then what?” This was where Derek balked every time Ian had tried to talk to him.

Derek deliberately misunderstood the question. “You don’t have to send her back with her father. We can find somewhere else for Sophie.”

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Ian shook his head. “No, Derek. I’m not talking about Sophie. I meant what then for us?”

Derek looked at him blankly for a moment. “We go on as we were. Life goes back to normal.”

Ian put a hand over his eyes. Derek wouldn’t believe the tears now, anyway. “I

don’t want that.”

“You want her,” Derek spit at him.

Ian shook his head again. “Not at first. At first it was about the life that she could give us. A home, children, boring, blessed peace.” He looked at Derek. “I never lied to you, Derek. Marrying Sophie has always been about a new start for us. A beginning far removed from the war.”

“This has nothing to do with the war,” Derek snarled. “Why are you always trying to get me to talk about that bloody war?”

“It has everything to do with it,” Ian cried. “You’re not happy, Derek. I can’t make you happy.”

Derek stumbled back a step. “What the hell are you talking about, Ian? Of course you make me happy.”

Ian shook his head and Derek believed the tears in his eyes were real now. “No, Derek, I don’t. When was the last time you laughed? Not with sarcasm, or in anger, but really laughed?”

“You can hardly blame me for not laughing since you took this idiotic marriage

scheme to heart.” Derek’s heart was pounding erratically.

“How often do you sleep through the night?” Ian didn’t wait, he answered for

Derek, who remained silent. “Never. Not since the first day I met you.” Ian rose from his chair. “Derek, I want those things for you, things I can’t give you. Happiness, peace, stability.”

Derek turned away in confusion. “I’m happy, Ian. You are the one not happy with our present arrangement.”

“No, Derek, I’m not.” Ian sounded tired and defeated. “I love you with all my heart, but it’s not enough. You’re dying inside and I can’t help you, and it’s killing me.”

Derek turned around and stopped himself just before he let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Don’t be melodramatic, Ian. That’s more my style than yours.”

Ian took a deep breath. “I’m asking, Derek. I’m asking you to please come to the wedding.”

“Declare a cease-fire and fete the enemy?” Derek allowed the bottled-up sarcasm to infiltrate his words.

Ian sighed and walked over to him and ran a hand down his bare arm. “It’s a

wedding, not a war.”

“You’re always trying to get me talk about the war. This is the one I’m fighting now.”

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“There is no battle, Derek. You won my heart long ago. But I owe it to Sophie to try with all my heart to make things work.”

“You can’t give all your heart to two people, Ian. It’s mathematically impossible.”

Derek felt his control slipping.

“We’re not talking about your mathematics, Derek. There are no rules in love.”

“Then it
is
war,” Derek told him. Ian sighed and closed his eyes wearily. Derek gave in. “I’ll try, Ian. I’ll come to your wedding and I’ll try not to hate her. That’s all I can promise.”

* * * * *

Sophie was so nervous she thought she might throw up. She’d been up most of the night, pacing to and fro and fretting. She hadn’t spoken with Ian as she’d promised Kate and Kitty. It wasn’t necessary. She’d play the virgin for him and he’d be pleased and everything would be fine,
fine
. She didn’t need kid gloves, for heaven’s sake. She wasn’t broken, she wasn’t. She could handle one little wedding night.