The Butcher and the Beast (11 page)

John broke the kiss, lips sliding on Grey’s skin. “Move up, Grey. Bring your cock to my mouth.”

“What?” Grey was lost to sensation, blinking at him.

He put his hands on Grey’s hips, tugged them upward as he shifted down on his pillows. “Bring me your shaft.”

“I— Yes.” That cock dripped and throbbed, aching for him. Offered to him.

“Yes,” he growled, licking the tip. Grey was salty, bitter with an underlying sweetness. John let his tongue play over the head, watching Grey’s face. Gray was lost, his. His own at this moment. He took the long, hard shaft into his mouth, letting Grey’s frantic movements push it deep. It wouldn’t be long. It couldn’t be. Grey’s need was too close to the surface. He slid his good hand around, fingers sliding along Grey’s crack as his head bobbed, his suction increasing on Grey’s cock.

Salt and heat exploded in his lips, Grey shuddering, shaking above him. Moaning, he swallowed Grey’s need down, mouth softening, but not releasing the spent cock. He pulled aftershocks and shudders from Grey before slowly coming off. Grey slumped to the sheets, lips open, eyes closed. Leaning over him, John traced Grey’s swollen lips. The man looked debauched, sexy. Damned good in his bed.

Grey moaned, shivering for him.

The best part of it was that Grey had done it all himself. Grey had given him the kisses, the licks, had taken his shaft into that lovely mouth without being forced. It made the man’s surrender that much more delicious.

“We shall have to make a habit of that.”

“Beast.” The word almost sounded fond.

He chuckled and bent to nip at Grey’s lower lip. “You would be most disappointed if you put your mouth on any part of me and I did not respond.”

He got no answer, barring a bare grin, a soft laugh. “You refuse to allow me a moment’s respite.”

“My dear doctor, the last time I allowed you that you attacked me with a blade! No, I like your actions better when you must run on instinct and you let your body take what it wants, what it needs.”

“And you argue that you are no animal?” Grey stretched, lean and pale, skin lovely, especially his mark on the dark throat.

“Did I argue that?” He laughed, let his fingers slide over Grey’s belly. “I would argue that we are all animals, yourself included. Do not hide from yourself, Doctor. Revel in yourself. In me.”

“You are a demon, in truth.”

Yes, and the doctor had discovered temptation.

“And what does that make you?” he asked, before taking Grey’s mouth with his, reminding Grey that the man had made love with this demon.

Grey moaned, accepted his kiss, wrapping his hands around John’s shoulders. He pulled the blankets up over them, covering them in darkness as the kisses continued. After some time he gave up control of the kiss, let Grey lead it, guide it.

The passion was abated. This was something different. Something else. It was something he had never done with anyone else and yet he tolerated it with Grey. No, not tolerated, enjoyed it.

It was most intriguing, most fascinating.

He might be compelled to keep this butcher.

Chapter Seven

Stephen sighed at Geoff, wrapping one arm with a bandage. “You
must
keep the wrap and the salve on it or you will lose the arm.”

Three weeks he had doctored the crew. Three weeks he had dealt with the worst ideas of what medicine was. Three weeks. Still, it was improving. Slowly.

“You’ll take me arm? I knew it! Butcher!” Geoff stood, his chair going flying behind him. “I’ll not let ye.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Just keep the wrapping on, you great bloody fool. You have better use of it than I do.”

There was a growl from the door. “There a problem down here?” John stood there, arms crossed, looking every inch a pirate captain.

“Yes. Your man is going to lose his arm if he does not
listen
to me.” Infuriating. They were all infuriating—every last pirate down to a man. Their captain the worst of the lot.

John glared. “Geoff. Do what the butcher tells you.”

Geoff grumbled a “Yes, Cap’n” then stomped off, muttering about a drink.

Chuckling, John came in, eyes sliding from Stephen’s head down to his toes and back up again, that gaze like a touch.

“Thank you, Beast.” Stephen would not look away, not flinch. Unfortunately he could not prevent his body’s response.

And the man knew it, damn him. John’s lips twisting into a wicked grin. “I know a way you could show your appreciation.”

“You have no shame and I have patients.” He turned away, hiding his own grin.

“I have no need for shame and your last patient just left, Butcher.” John’s voice deepened, became husky. “You know you wish to.”

“I will not dally with you here, Beast.” He lifted his chin. “And I am no butcher.”

“Where will you dally with me then…Doctor?”

His lips parted, caught between aggravated and wanton. “Your quarters, only.”

“There is a bed here.” John nodded toward the tiny cot Stephen used as an examination table.

“A filthy cot and I have already told you no.”

“But I called you Doctor. And I told Geoff to listen to you. I
deserve
a reward.” John was incorrigible.

Stephen laughed, shook his head. “Have some ale.”

“I want
you
, Grey.” John’s hand reached out and wrapped around his arm, tugging him up against all those muscles. “And then the ale.”

He groaned, tried to pull away. “Not here. Not here, you Beast.”

“Why not? What does it matter where?” He could feel John’s shaft against his hip, hard and hot.

“There are old bandages, the room smells of illness. Have some care, John.”

John’s eyes rolled and the hand on Stephen’s arm tightened, but the man turned and tugged him out of the room. “My cabin then.” The words were growled, but Stephen recognized the sound of need in it now, rather than anger.

“Yes, Beast. Your cabin.” There was little good in denying his own need.

It was not very far at all, only a few steps to the end of the dark hall and they were in the captain’s quarters. It was just weeks ago that he’d been a prisoner in this room at the pirate captain’s mercy. Now he was… He was unsure of what he was. Of his place. He spent hours not considering it.

“Here we are. No more stalling. We both want this.”

John tilted Stephen’s head, mouth descending upon his own. The kiss enflamed him, his hands tangling in John’s hair, the heat between them an addiction. John’s tongue pushed into his mouth, sweeping through it before sliding away, almost daring his own to follow. He moaned, chasing John’s tongue, his own sliding along before pulling back again.

A groan vibrated deep in John’s chest, one big hand sliding down along his back and landing on his ass like it belonged there. They pressed together, both moaned as their bodies rubbed. Insanity. Madness. Lust.

John’s free hand slid up under his blouse, sliding across his belly before climbing, headed right for his nipple. Stephen went up upon his toes, his nipple tight, hard, embarrassingly eager for sensation. The kiss turned into nibbling, John’s lips grabbing his lower one between them, teeth testing his skin.

“Is this what you want?” John asked as his fingertips slid across the small bud of Stephen’s nipple.

He groaned, pressing against that touch.

“My passionate butcher,” murmured John, lips attaching to his throat, covering the mark that had not faded since it had first been left on his skin.

“Not…not a butcher.” Heat flooded him, his chin lifted, passion making him ache.

John chuckled, teeth scraping along his skin, fingers pinching his nipple. “Are you sure?”

“Sure?” He arched, lost in sensation.

There was no answer, only more biting, more pinching and tugging and rubbing. It felt like John was everywhere, all around him. He slid his own hands down John’s arms, John’s chest, petting and stroking.

“That’s it, Stephen. More. Skin. Come now, Butcher, you know you want me.”

“Be quiet, Pirate.” He pushed John’s shirt up, dragging his hands over the rippled belly.

John laughed, stomach fluttering beneath his fingers. The sound soon turned into a moan, the suction on his neck growing fierce. Stephen’s own moan drove him closer, his hips bucking against John’s thigh. John pushed his leggings from his hips, freeing his cock to the air.

“John.” Stephen would not beg, he would
not
.

John drew back, those blue eyes staring into his own. “I like the way you say my name. As if you need.”

He stared back, unsure what to say, whether to speak at all. Chuckling, John’s slid his hand around Stephen’s cock, began to stroke it, pulling roughly. Everything inside him went tight, hips jerking desperately.

“Tell me what you want, Stephen.” The words were little more than a growl, lodging in the base of his spine, in his balls.

“John. I…” He moaned. He could not.

“So very, very stubborn,” murmured John, eyes holding his as John went to his knees in front of Stephen. “Tell me what you want.”

Oh, dear lord
. His eyes rolled, that mouth so close to his need. “You. You, I want you.”

John licked his lips, tongue just brushing Stephen’s shaft. “This?” John asked, tongue swiping across the tip of his cock. Those eyes shone up at him and John did it again, but then waited for his answer.

“Yes.” Heaven forgive him. Please.

John licked his tip again, pushing his tongue against Stephen’s slit for a moment before that hot, hot mouth dropped down around his flesh.

“John!” His thighs spread, hips pushing forward desperately.

John’s hands wrapped around his hips, tugging him back. His erection left John’s mouth with a pop. “Should I stop?”

“St…stop?” What was wrong with the man? John’s lips twitched, those eyes dancing wickedly up at him. Then John’s mouth was around him again, the pirate’s cheeks hollowing, the suction around his cock incredible. His cry echoed, seed pouring from him in a rush, hips snapping, pushing into John’s lips. John hummed around his cock, mouth gentling, but not ceasing the sweet pulls. Aftershocks shook Stephen again and again until John slowly let his shaft go. He whimpered, knees buckling, only his hands on John’s shoulder keeping him upright.

John’s lips slid along his belly, warm and soft. Now and again the sharp scrape of teeth shot sensation through him as John made his way slowly upward.

“B…beast,” Stephen accused.

John lowered them to the bed, both of them easing down.

He could feel the heat of John’s erection against his hip, the man’s breeches no impediment.

“I need, Stephen. You have come in my mouth. What will you do for me in return?”

“Always a barter with you. Always.”

“I
could
just take what I want. But I do not.” John’s eyes glittered in the fading light from the porthole, watching him. There was never anywhere to hide from the pirate.

“What do you want?” Stephen refused to look away, to back down.

“You know what I wish. That which you refuse to offer me.” John’s hand slid beneath his buttocks, one finger finding his crease.

“I…” It frightened him, the idea of being hurt, of being torn.

That finger slid along his most private flesh, sending shivers through him. He could hear his own heartbeat, almost as loud as his breath, the only sounds for long moments. “When will you stop denying yourself, Stephen?”

“The act you desire… It frightens me.”

“You still believe I would hurt you? You protest and complain and pretend you don’t like the games we play, yet you have enjoyed everything we have done. Do not deny it, for I have seen it in your eyes, tasted it in your seed.” John’s finger slid across his opening and then returned, teasing the flesh there with a surprisingly gentle touch, tapping against it.

“John.” Stephen moaned, hips arching, pulling away first, then moving closer again.

“Your body knows. It has always known.” John took his mouth, the kiss soft, John’s tongue probing gently, echoing the finger that pressed against him again and again. Against his better judgment, Stephen melted, opened and offered himself into a pirate’s hands. John’s growl of triumph filled his lips, the sound the only thing louder than the beating of his heart.

More fingers joined the first, stroking along his crease, pressing against his entrance each in turn, though not breaching him. He pressed close, hands in John’s hair, the kisses deep and languid, stealing his breath. The kisses lasted forever until he was swimming in them, in the sensations John plied upon him, one melting into the next and the next.

The heat of John’s body seemed to increase, the hard cock had never seemed so large as it did now, rubbing against his hip.

“Please. John.” Stephen pressed them closer together, body liquid and relaxed.

John drew back so those blue eyes could look into his face. “What was that, Butcher? Was that a plea?”

His cheeks flushed, lips going tight together. “No. It was a…request.”

“Oh, you are a very, very stubborn man, Stephen.” He knew John would not have him any other way. John nibbled his lower lip, then his neck, whereupon John joined his lips to the mark he’d left on Stephen’s neck, sucking it, darkening it even more. John drew one of his nipples between firm teeth, worrying his flesh before soothing it, John’s tongue wicked, hot. John’s eyes flashed up at his gasp. “I will give you what you have asked for, Butcher.”

“Not a butcher, Beast.”

John laughed and nipped sharply at his nipple before getting up, stripping as he went to the small chest in the corner of the room. “But your eyes shine so whenever I say it.”

Aggravating monster. He felt chilled without John close, legs drawing up beneath his chin.

John pulled off his leggings before bending to open the chest, taut buttocks exposed to Stephen as John pulled out a little silver bottle with a jeweled stopper. The pirate turned slowly, eyes hot as they met his. The view was even more impressive from this angle, John’s shaft hard, curving up toward his muscled belly.

Stephen could not decide whether that sight aroused or worried him.