The Butcher and the Beast (10 page)

“Not a butcher.” He slowly wandered back, trembling within and without. His own reactions to John confounded him, his mind unable to sort it out.

“Come give me another kiss and I shall not only give you another spoonful, but call you doctor as well.”

“For how long?” He would not be fooled twice.

“Oh, a
very
quick study.” John tilted his head. “I want a proper kiss from you, full and open mouthed—initiated and carried out by you. And in return I will call you Doctor until sun-up tomorrow.”

“Until sun-down and I can have three bites.” He was not an utter fool and not so far descended into madness as that.

One of John’s eyebrows went up. “It had better be a quite amazing kiss, Butcher.”

He refused to look away, meeting those eyes. “Those are my terms, Beast.”

“I accept.”

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, bringing their lips together, his heart trip hammering in his chest. John hummed and opened his mouth, otherwise making no move to guide the kiss. Stephen was unsure, but he let his tongue slide out, tracing John’s bottom lip. John slowly slid a hand along his back, the touch almost soothing as John’s hums got louder. Stephen exhaled, body leaning into the kiss, encouraged by the hand on his back. John’s mouth opened wider beneath his, tongue touching his for just a second.

He responded, tongue-tip just brushing John’s before he backed away. Oh, what was he doing? What on earth was he doing?

John was quite pleased with himself.

He’d put down a mutiny, convinced Grey to officially join the crew as their new butcher and now had the man feeding him kisses, one after another, each better than the last. He bit his lip to keep from grinning as Grey backed away from the last kiss, eyes stricken. Instead of smiling, John frowned.

“Now wait a moment, Butcher. I know we’ve joked about cheating and whatnot, but you promised me an amazing kiss in return for
three
bites of food and my calling you Doctor until sun-down tomorrow. That kiss was nice, but hardly amazing.”

“I… Perhaps your definition of amazing and my own differ.”

John did grin then, chuckling a little. Grey did amuse him. He was growing most fond of the butcher.

“Perhaps it does, but you have asked for a goodly lot in exchange for this kiss. I do believe it is on your shoulders to deliver a kiss that
I
find amazing.”

“You are most aggravating, Beast.” Grey almost smiled, though, those eyes lit most suddenly.

“Coming from you, I do believe that’s a compliment, Butch—Doctor.”

He pursed his lips, fingers patting them. He wanted his kiss.

Grey leaned in, lips brushing his, soft and heated, open against his own. John put his hand on Grey’s back to keep himself from cupping the man’s head and pressing their mouths harder together. The game was to get Grey to come to him, to initiate kisses, not to take them.

John hummed softly, enjoying the flavor of Grey’s mouth and his eyes stared into Grey’s, willing the man’s tongue to come and play. He got only the softest touch, the slide of that tongue against his bottom lip taunting him with promise before Grey backed away. He groaned, both disappointed and excited, his shaft beginning to push at his breeches.

“How would you like a new blouse?” he asked, voice low, rough. Grey looked mighty fine in tattered clothing, but he imagined he could earn another kiss, possibly more, for clean, whole clothes.

“Pardon me?”

He could see Grey’s nipple, hard and rosy, aroused.

He licked his lips, tongue passing where Grey’s had been. He swore it tasted different right there. “I said, would you like a new blouse? One that’s not rent and torn.” They had plenty in the hold, he was sure. Or better yet, one of his own would hang off Grey, maybe let him play look-see with those pretty nipples some more.

“I would, to be sure. What would you have me barter for it?”

“What do you think would be a fair trade, Doctor Grey?” What would Grey give willingly without being asked for it?

“I…” Now that question confused the man, made him gasp and tilt his head.

“A whole blouse, after all, is worth more than a single kiss, wouldn’t you think?” His gaze moved from Grey’s face to that hard, little nipple and back.

“What would you count its worth as?” So sweet, that tight bit of flesh.

“Your mouth on one of my nipples and your hand on my cock. I will, of course, return the favor.”

“I…” He could see the quick mind working. “I could manage that.”

Damnation, he should have suggested more. John knew it would come eventually, but patience had never been his strong suit.

“Payment first,” he demanded. “And you must take off my shirt as well as your own before the touching commences.”

“That was not part of the agreement, Pirate.” Stubborn man.

John held up his bandaged hand. “But, Grey, how can I disrobe so you can suck on my nipple without your help?”

“You said nothing about sucking. You said my mouth upon your nipple.” Grey undid his ties, eased the shirt off his arms.

“Why else would you put your mouth on my nipple if not to suck?” He loved Grey’s quick mind, the challenge. He was going to be kept on his toes with this man. The thought only made him harder. He sat forward a little so Grey could pull his shirt down far enough to expose one of his nipples, the little bud of flesh hard in eager anticipation. “It wants your tongue.”

“You have no shame.” Grey bent to the task, lips swollen and soft, near gentle on his skin, Grey’s hand cupping his groin.

John could no more have stopped his hips from pushing up into Grey’s hand than he could have stopped breathing, a low groan leaving him at the twin assault.

“Your tongue, please,” he begged, proving Grey right—no shame at all.

Grey licked his nipple, lapping much like he was cream and the doctor a large cat. His hands curled into fists to keep from grabbing Grey about the head and holding him right there. He made a sound suspiciously like a whimper. Grey was far too good at this for an innocent virgin. The man would be a wild wanton in bed once he let himself go, of that John was sure.

His hips pushed, sliding his erection against Grey’s hand. That hand—so clever, so very needy—slid against him, stroked him.

“Aye,” he whispered, body easily finding Grey’s rhythm and moving with it, his shaft nearly jumping beneath Grey’s fingers. His nipple ached, sensation shooting from it to his cock every time Grey licked it. Grey moaned, shivered then pulled back, as if his own need had frightened him. John panted, trying to catch his breath. He could feel his own heartbeat in his erection, in his nipple—the air cool against the wet flesh. “Now you. Remove your shirt.”

“What is left of it.” Those hands were trembling as Grey pulled the rag away.

“You’ll have a new one soon enough.”

His eyes were drawn to those pretty nipples, Grey unable to hide his need, his body betraying him. John reached out, groaning as his finger pressed against the hard, little nub. Grey pulled back, moaning low.

“You’ll have to bring your flesh to my mouth, Doctor.”

Grey needed to come to him, to want it so badly he could do nothing else. John let his thumb slide gently across Grey’s nipple, then again.

“I… You offered me a blouse.” Oh, Grey felt him, lips open, heart pounding visibly in the thin chest.

He could smell Grey, the salty musk of the man’s need beginning to rise between them. “Indeed, but first I must return the favor of mouth and hand upon your body. You did agree…”

Grey moved closer, the scent heady now, strong and wanton. John slid an arm around Grey’s waist and tugged him just a bit closer, mouth closing over that tempting nipple. Grey’s whimper was most gratifying, the arch of the pale spine even more so. John flicked his tongue across Grey’s nipple, the little bit of flesh hard, almost seeming to beg him to do it again—so he did. He touched Grey’s other nipple with his uninjured hand and slid his fingers along the fine flesh, all the way down to cup the hardness he found within Grey’s breeches.

Grey moaned, rolling into his touch, the sound deep, needy. The temptation to pull the man down, to roll the lean body beneath him and take what he wanted was huge, but he did not. In fact he took a final lick and pulled away.

“M-my blouse.” Grey was flushed, needy, eyes flashing.

John licked his lips and nodded. “In the drawer.” He pointed toward the space beneath the bed that housed his clothes.

Grey knelt down, giving him a long look at perfectly formed buttocks, a long, lean spine.

He moaned softly, rubbing at his aching erection. “You torture me, Doctor.”

“I do not.” Grey pulled a pale shirt free, draping it over the lean body.

“But you do. Constantly. I ache for you.” He rubbed his shaft again, admiring the way his shirt hung off one of Grey’s shoulders.

“Eat your stew, Beast.” The words were short, but the tone wasn’t.

He reached out and grabbed Grey’s hand, tugged him back near. “I find I have more appetite for you than the stew, but I will eat if you will continue to feed me.”

“You believe I care if you starve?”

“Yes.” And he found it wasn’t just game playing. He didn’t believe Grey would let him go hungry.

“We’re fools, the both of us.” There it was, that look so very close to panic, to acquiescence, to surrender. John had seen it in captives, in enemies. It was always the same, wide-eyed and worried, panicked and wanting the confusion to stop all at once.

He reached out and cupped Grey’s cheek, licking his lips. “Insults are unnecessary.”

Grey shuddered, almost leaned into his touch. “You cannot feed off me.”

“Are you quite sure, Doctor?” He winked and let his fingers slide away from Grey’s cheek, fingertips stroking.

“I am completely sure, Pirate.”

“Then you must feed me. I will let you give me a spoonful for every kiss that you give me.”

“I am not offering kisses so that you might sate your hunger.”

Well it had certainly been worth a try. “No? Then what will you offer them for?”

“I… I want to not witness the whipping. I do not wish to see that.”

“It is mandatory, but…Doctor, if I make an excuse for you not to be present…well I need more than a kiss.” Here was where he would make his move. He would have that mouth or he was not captain of this ship.

“I will tend the men, but I… I would not see the damage being done.”

“I will allow that, but only if you put your mouth on me, Grey. And not for just a moment, either. I would have you suck me properly.”

“You are… You cannot mean… Not until you spend?”

He reached out and casually slid a hand along the front of Grey’s breeches. “That is the general idea. I will, of course, reward you. So not only do you get out of witnessing the whipping, but you get untold pleasure as well.”

“I have never… I would choke.” Grey was trembling, shaking like a flag upon the mast.

“I would not allow you to choke.” John pressed his hand a little harder against Grey’s cock.

“I have your word?” Grey’s body pressed forward against him.

“You have it.” He was nearly shaking himself, anticipation making him ache. Grey was lucky. John was not likely to last long before spending himself in that luscious mouth.

“I do… I do not know what you want me to do…”

He lay back against the pillows. “The first step is to take a breath, then you may take my cock from my breeches.”

“Must you make everything difficult?” Grey reached for his breeches, tugging them open.

John almost whimpered, turning the sound into a husky chuckle instead as his erection leaped out eagerly. “It is not so difficult as all that, is it?”

“You are maddening.” Grey wrapped around his shaft, stroking, caressing him.

John licked his lips, his cock throbbing in Grey’s hand. “Only because you find yourself wanting me despite your reticence.”

“Bah.” Those hands kept working, rubbing. “You have a fever, here.”

He laughed. “You know the way to cure it, Doctor? You must use your mouth.” Grey leaned forward, tongue sliding so carefully on his shaft—heated, wet. John groaned, his toes curling. “Grey. Don’t stop now.”

Another lick, another touch and Grey would drive him mad. He reached for Grey’s head and stopped himself, burying his fingers in the sheets to keep from taking what he wanted. Grey needed to do it himself. Grey’s tongue slid and stroked, caressing and wetting him. Tasting him. More. He needed more. “Please. Grey. Please.”

“What? It cannot hurt…” Those eyes were wide, that mouth too far away.

He shook his head. “It aches, but only with need. I need more. Please.”

Grey nodded, hands and lips touching him, wrapping around him. Willing. Heated. He gasped, Grey’s lips soft, like wizardry around his flesh. He kept his hips still, fingers reaching out to slide through Grey’s curls. Grey sucked carefully, hands around the base of his cock, squeezing, rubbing.

“It will not fall off if you are more vigorous.” The touches were sweet, gentle, good, but not enough. Grey’s eyes flashed up at him, teeth scraping his shaft.

He jerked and cried out. “Grey!” Such a quick study, so very smart, his butcher was a treasure indeed. The suction increased, those teeth sharp, dragging along his skin. It made him cry out again, a shudder going through him. His fingers tightened in Grey’s hair, his hips twitching. “Faster.”

Grey heard, responded, eyes fastened on him as that head bobbed. The sight of the good doctor, so civilized, so prurient, golden curls bobbing over his shaft, was almost as good as the sensations themselves. Almost.

“Soon,” John warned.

Grey pulled back, lips on the tip of his cock, the sensation sharp. His hips jerked, cum spilling from him as the pleasure sped through him. The doctor pulled away after the first pulse, seed on his cheek, his chin.

He reached out, finger cleaning Grey’s face. “That was not so distasteful now, was it?”

Grey blushed dark, eyes unsure and needy all at once. John made a soft noise and tugged Grey up, bringing their lips together. The taste of his seed on Grey’s lips was intoxicating and had he not just spent, he’d surely be hard again. Grey shuddered, hips pushing into him, cock near burning against him. He slid a hand around to Grey’s ass, tugging, encouraging the doctor to rub against him. Grey humped him, shivering and moaning.