Tarot's Touch (16 page)

“Have you been taking lessons from Higgs?” Conor swiveled his legs round and let Alex take his elbow as he got out of the car. It meant that he didn’t have to put any stress on his shoulder joint and that was something he could appreciate. “He’s been holding doors open for people this afternoon.” He turned and bent to retrieve his files from the footwell. The sharp intake of breath from behind him told him that Alex was looking at his arse. His lover was nothing if not predictable. He took his time straightening up, making sure to wiggle his hips just a fraction.

“Get in the house, Conor.” Alex’s voice was low, growly and very sexy.

Conor raised an eyebrow but did as he’d been told, a little flutter of anticipation starting up in the pit of his stomach.

Alex dumped his bags and coat in the hall and gave him one of those looks that Conor knew meant he was in trouble—the nice kind of trouble. Conor followed Alex’s example and kicked off his shoes and socks. They both preferred to go barefoot around the house. He loosened his tie and slid it from beneath his collar. Then Alex put a hand against his chest and pushed him backward gently but with purpose. A few steps later they were in the dining room. Alex pressed him back until his arse rested against the edge of the solid oak table.

The table was covered with paperwork, which Alex swept off, scattering it all across the floor. He lifted Conor onto the table. Alex stood in front of him and pushed Conor’s legs apart to get closer.

“You and I need to talk,” Alex said, as he began to undo Conor’s shirt, button by button.

He leaned forward and kissed Conor, pushing his tongue forcefully between his lips. Conor opened for him. He grabbed some blond strands of hair and kissed Alex back, hard. For a while he battled for dominance but gave in when he felt Alex had got the message that he wasn’t a pushover. Alex broke away with a feral grin.

“We have things to discuss,” Alex said.

“Difficult to talk when you kiss like that. You want conversation? You’re going to need to get a bit farther away,” Conor gasped.

Alex tore at Conor’s shirt until the fabric gave way. The final couple of buttons pinged across the room. Alex kissed him again, nipping at his lips, creating a diversion as he unfastened Conor’s waistband and unzipped his fly. Alex brushed the tip of his leaking cock with the back of his hand, and Conor arched at the featherlight contact. Unforgiving wood dug into his thighs, but he didn’t care. Alex took immediate advantage of his position and tugged Conor’s trousers and his underwear down and off, positioning him at the edge of the table.

“I am going to fuck the stubborn out of you, beautiful. You need to learn when to let me look after you.” He pushed the remnants of Conor’s shirt off his shoulders, leaving him bare and vulnerable.

Conor pushed back against him, resisting. “You can try!”

Alex growled. The sound made Conor shiver, his iron cock twitching against his stomach, betraying his need.

“God, I love it when you defy me!”

Alex shoved him back on to the table and palmed Conor’s balls, kneading them just hard enough that the sensitive skin burned beneath his touch. Conor fought his hold, slipping across the polished wood, unable to find the traction to escape. Alex continued to work Conor’s balls and pull at his dick. He pushed his weight against Conor’s body until he lay back on the unyielding surface. He nipped at his neck, his earlobe, his shoulder then bit at ultra-sensitized nipples until Conor yelped from the pain.

Conor got a moment’s reprieve as Alex took a few seconds to undo his own trousers. They gave in to gravity and fell down so that he could kick them away. Conor watched, transfixed, as Alex hefted his thick cock and gave it a few sharp jerks.

“All ready for you, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers past Conor’s lips. “Suck.”

“Fuck you.” Conor swore but did as he’d been told, sucking the fingers until they were wet and slick.

Alex smirked as he pulled them free. Seconds later Conor felt a firm touch as Alex circled his hole. He gasped as Alex pierced him with both fingers.

He scrabbled for purchase on the varnished wood, but there was nothing to hold onto. Alex pinned him in place, pressing one hand down on his belly and occupying the other in aerobic finger exercises inside Conor’s channel. Alex finger-fucked him roughly, stretching him open. Conor’s skin dampened with sweat, gluing him to the table. He managed to get his heels up and spread himself wider.

“Slut.” Alex massaged his perineum with the tip of his thumb.

Conor tensed, feeling his orgasm build. “Don’t stop, Alex! Please…”

“Oh no you don’t.” Alex stopped moving his fingers then withdrew them.

Conor whimpered desperately.

“You’ll come when I say you can. Not before.”

Alex licked the width of Conor’s stomach, then the length of his rigid cock. “If only you could see yourself, spread for me, so beautiful.” Alex’s pale eyes met Conor’s with a challenge. “Are you ready for me, love? Can you take me?”

Conor wanted to protest, wanted to resist, but he wanted Alex inside him more. Alex pushed into him, hard and hot. Conor moaned his pleasure, lost all will to resist and pushed back, taking him in deep. The table creaked as Alex rocked forward, pushing harder. Grateful for the solid piece of oak, Conor wrapped a leg around Alex, pulling him closer, encouraging him to thrust harder.

Conor tilted his arse so Alex’s fierce penetration hit his gland.

“Alex! Yes!”

It was too much—he lost control, biting back a second scream as he shot all over his belly.

“Bad boy!” Alex pumped harder then stilled momentarily before his hips jacked forward, and Conor felt the flush of his release deep inside. Conor closed his eyes and took deep gulps of air as Alex slid from his body with a shudder.

“I didn’t give you permission to come, Conor.” Alex’s deep voice was low and threatening. Conor opened his eyes and struggled into a sitting position.

“You didn’t? I could have sworn I heard you say ‘come’.”

“If I said anything at all, it would have been don’t come, and you know it.”

Conor fluttered his eyelashes. “So I’ve been bad and you’ll have to correct me.”

Alex grabbed him around the waist and pulled him off the table. Conor yelped as his skin unglued itself from the wood.

“Bedroom. Now. I clearly have not given you a thorough enough fucking, as you still have the capacity for cheek.”

“And there was me thinking that you’d brought me home because I needed to rest and recuperate.” Conor wiggled his arse at Alex as he slipped past him into the hall.

“Well it seems that the only R&R you are in need of involves…restraints and…rumpy pumpy.”

Conor fell about laughing. “Oh my God! Finding the R words was a real stretch for you wasn’t it? Rumpy pumpy? Really?”

Alex scowled. “Well, our bedroom activities will involve me pumping your rump, so what the hell? I was thinking on the spot there. Now get your insolent behind up to the bedroom before I get impatient.”

Conor giggled all the way up the stairs. He moved as quickly as his bruises allowed, knowing that if Alex got too close, he’d probably be in for a good spanking. In the time it took him to get to the bedroom, Conor grew hard again. When Alex got this dominant, Conor’s body seemed to respond with an enthusiasm that was hard to understand. Alex crowded him into their room and followed him onto the bed, pinning him with his weight. Conor squirmed as Alex stroked and fondled every inch of his body as if he were creating a mental map of every contour.

Conor couldn’t help himself. He drew his knees up and parted his thighs.

“Needy little slut, aren’t you?”

“You promised me rumpy pumpy.” Just the words made Conor snort with laughter.

Alex cupped his balls and rolled them in his hands, squeezing gently. “You’re not really in the best position to be teasing me, Detective Trethuan. I have important parts of your anatomy in my hands.” He squeezed a little harder, almost to the point of causing pain, but not quite.

“More!” Conor craved the spike of lust that came with rough handling. He grabbed at his cock as he rested his calves on Alex’s broad shoulders. Alex slapped his hand away.

“Oh no you don’t, sunshine. That’s mine. Keep your hands off. I wish I could cuff you to the bed, but I think your shoulder needs a couple more days’ recovery time.” He slid the tip of one finger into Conor’s channel and wiggled it.

Desperate for some friction, Conor took a chance that Alex wouldn’t notice and went to get a hold of his cock again. He moaned as Alex lowered his legs to the bed.

“I can see you are not to be trusted.” Alex rummaged in the dresser then returned to the end of the bed dangling two pairs of shiny, padded cuffs from a finger.

“Arms out to the sides. You may not be able to stretch them over your head, but I can still keep them away from that luscious cock.” He cuffed Conor’s wrists to the side rails of the bed and gave a satisfied sigh. “Much better. Now, where was I?”

He resumed his position, kneeling between Conor’s spread legs and lifted them to his shoulders again. Holding the bottle up so that Conor could see what he was doing, Alex applied a thick coating of lube to two fingers. “Now, I know you probably don’t need stretching, but I do so enjoy keeping you waiting—and wanting.”

He thrust two fingers into Conor’s body, hitting his prostate almost immediately.

Conor gasped. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. Conor wanted more.

“Want to be filled, love. Sir. Please.”

“Beg me for it, Conor. This is all you get until I hear you pleading to be fucked.”

Alex stroked his gland steadily but far too slowly to bring him to orgasm. It was utter torture.

“Bastard! More! I need more.”

“What do you say, Conor?” Alex probed a little deeper.

“Screw you!”

“Wrong answer.”

Alex must have added a third finger because Conor felt the stretch but still Alex didn’t do enough. All Conor sensed was a light pressure, little more than a tickle. Then it would stop for a few seconds before starting again.

“I can wiggle my fingertips all night if need be.”

Alex sounded utterly implacable, and Conor realized it was pointless to resist him. He needed too badly. Alex stared at him expectantly and he caved.

“Please! Oh, please, Alex… I need you. Need you filling me.”

“That’s better.” Alex adjusted his position and spent a few moments slathering lube over his cock. “There, nice and slippery.”

“Fuck, Alex! Less commentary, more action!”

“Oh, you really are in brat mode this evening, aren’t you?”

Alex plunged his swollen cock into Conor’s receptive channel, filling him completely. Only a few powerful thrusts later, lights danced behind Conor’s eyes as his orgasm swept over him in unstoppable waves. Alex pounded into him. His arse burned, his wrists ached, every muscle screamed with tension. Alex’s pale eyes gleamed, bored into the heart of him. Conor recognized the moment that Alex lost control because his pupils dilated. Alex jerked and shot deep inside him. In that moment, Conor felt love so deep it hurt, and as Alex collapsed against him, he sighed with contentment and peace. Alex’s grin was feral. “You look deliciously fucked.” He stroked Conor’s hair and kissed him.

Conor rolled his eyes. “You are so bloody smug, Alex.”

Alex flicked a nipple. “I deserve to be. And you came twice without permission. When your bruises are all gone, I’m going to punish you properly.”

Conor blinked and tried not to appear pleased.

“Oh! You like that idea don’t you?” Alex practically purred.

Conor groaned. Alex could see right through him and he wasn’t going to be allowed to forget this in a hurry. He had no doubt that Alex would make good on his threat.

“Unchain me, love. I really need a shower.”

Alex quickly unlocked the cuffs. “Aren’t you going to invite me along?”

“Stop with the puppy eyes! Much as I love showering with you, you know what’ll happen if we get in there together.”

“Oh, I do.” Alex smirked.

“Well my arse needs a break, so unless you fancy bottoming for a change…”

“Fine. Don’t use all the hot water.”

Conor rolled out of bed and chuckled at Alex’s sulk. He had no problem with the fact that Alex didn’t ever bottom. He had no desire to top anyway, but the threat was a useful weapon at times.

“Are you sure you’re not up for a little wet and slippery time?”

“I’m not going to be ‘up’ as you put it, any time soon.” Conor examined his flaccid dick. “I think you’ve broken it.”

“I’d be very happy to kiss it better.”

His dick twitched and showed a bit of interest, despite Conor’s protests.

Alex licked his lips.

“Your attempt at looking innocent is failing miserably.” Conor rolled his eyes. “Oh, I give in.”

Alex beat him to the bathroom.

One fantastic blow job and a soothing shower later, Conor sat up in bed. He plumped the pillows then pulled out the first of Adrian Hamilton’s files, which were piled on the bed next to him. There were about fifteen manila folders to go through, all neatly labeled. Some were stuffed full with papers while others only contained one or two sheets. Conor just started at the top of the pile and worked down. It soon became apparent that the journalist had aspirations far beyond local news. He’d been researching several stories, most of which seemed to center around suspicions of fraud. He’d been targeting businessmen and women who lived locally but who had business interests that were national and international.