The Butcher and the Beast (13 page)

He stroked it, taking Grey’s nipple between his teeth and biting at the same time. He glanced up, wanting to see Grey’s reaction. His sensual lover was lost, lips open on his name, eyes closed in bliss.

He’d done that. Him. Made Grey forget everything but his touches, but the need that filled Grey with every one. Growling a little, John leaned up to lick at his mark upon Grey’s neck as he searched the bed for the vial of oil. His hand closed upon it and he growled again in triumph.

“Hungry, Pirate?” Grey’s cock rubbed against his belly, wet-tipped and heated.

“Yes. And I’m well-matched by my hungry butcher.”

He unstoppered the vial and coated his fingers with oil as he nibbled his way from neck to jaw to mouth. He licked and bit at Grey’s slightly swollen lips, his fingers again finding that sweet, hot hole. He pushed one in, tongue sliding into Grey’s mouth at the same moment.

Grey’s cry sounded sweeter than any honey, the honest need a true addiction. Grey’s body was tight around his finger, but yielding at the same time, accepting the invasion, welcoming it even. He returned his mouth to Grey’s nipples as he pushed in a second finger, stretching Grey wider.

“John. I ache.”

He imagined so, ached and twinged, near burned.

“I will ease your ache for you. I would not leave you needing, wanting.” He pushed a third finger into Grey, working the hot, tight passage, getting it ready. His cock throbbed in anticipation and he met Grey’s eyes, let the man see his pleasure.

“You… it is as if you would devour me.”

John nodded. “Yes. I wish to consume all of you.”

The light from the flame of the candle made Grey’s pale skin lovely and John did wish to taste every inch. Even more he wanted to bury himself once again inside the tight heat that grasped at his fingers as if loathe to let them leave Grey’s body.

Grey’s moans were a constant chant, body moving on his slick fingers with a steady, eager motion. John watched the sensual dance, his erection growing harder with each movement, each sound from Grey’s lips.

With a groan of his own, he let his fingers slide away and wrap around his own cock, slicking it up with the oil. “Do you want me, Grey?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the words from Grey’s own lips.

“Do you want me, John?” Those eyes stared up at him, bright as the North Star.

He growled. He took what he wanted without asking. He was the pirate captain. Still, growling again, he nodded and bent to take Grey’s lower lip between his teeth. “I do.” He spread Grey’s legs wider with his knees, his cock resting against Grey’s hole. “Now tell me. Ask me. Beg me.”

“I want you, John, unholy or no.” Grey reached up, sliding his tongue against John’s lips.

Moaning at the touch, the way Grey gave of himself, John pushed, his erection sliding into Grey’s tight heat. He chased after Grey’s tongue with his own as he pushed, cock slowly going deeper and deeper. Swollen and heated, Grey seemed to grip him like a fist encased in velvet, holding him close and firm. He went deep and stayed buried for as long as he could, but it wasn’t long before his body demanded he move and he pulled partway out, thrusting gently back in again. Grey moaned, rippling as if formed from the sea herself. “Again.”

John did it again, pulling out farther this time, thrusting back in harder, his eyes watching Grey meet the thrust.

“Yes. John…” They began to move, bed creaking as badly as the ship itself, the ropes holding the mattress complaining at the weight.

He found Grey’s lips with his own, tangled their tongues together before drawing Grey’s between his lips and sucking on it. The rhythm built between them, became more intense with every thrust, every suck, every creak of the bed. Grey wrapped his hands around John’s back, tugging him closer, deeper within. The man truly wanted him.

His roar was part triumph but mostly need, and he moved faster, sliding one hand around Grey’s cock as he pushed into Grey’s body over and over. The soft groans that answered him sent him soaring, the feel of Grey’s body milking him truly wondrous.

“My butcher.” The words were barely more than groans, his hips working hard.

“My beast. Please, John. Soon.”

John thrust harder, being called Grey’s making him shudder. “Yes, come for me. Show me how much pleasure I bring you.”

“Yes…” Heat sprayed over his hand, his fingers, that heated sheath he was buried within fluttering about him.

His own hips jerked, Grey’s body demanding his climax. He gave it, heat pouring from his shaft into Grey. He collapsed against Grey, breath panting from him.

“Are…are your appetites slaked, Beast?”

“Perhaps.” He gave Grey a wink, sliding from the hot, tight body with a groan. “What of yours?”

“Quite.” Stephen pulled the nightshirt back down around him. “Pirate.”

John chuckled, convinced Stephen wanted more than he was willing to admit, that Grey really wanted as much as he did.

He slid his hand beneath the nightshirt again, letting it come to rest on Grey’s belly. “You let me know when your appetite returns.”

“I should simply have to wait for yours to make itself known.”

He laughed again. “You almost make me wish to challenge you.” Almost, but he was not very good at denying himself and this was a treat he’d only just acquired.

“Almost.” Stephen smiled at him, fingers just brushing his arm.

He hummed at the touch, each one Grey offered of his own volition was sweeter than those he took or manipulated the man into giving. “I know where my strengths lie.”

“Most men do, I would think, else they would be unsuccessful men.”

“And I am very successful.” John stroked Grey’s belly, the skin soft and warm.

Grey’s laughter warmed him. “You have bread and cheese to dine on, the crew rumbles for meat. You are sure of this?”

“Impudent Butcher!” He slid his hand up to pinch one of Grey’s nipples and he bent to nip sharply at one lip. He was still laughing though and the bite turned into a lick which turned into a kiss. They were both panting as he pulled back. “Tomorrow evening we will be in Santa Maria and we will find meat, among other booty.”

Grey’s eyes went still suddenly, dull and empty as if the life was sucked from them. “The men will be pleased.”

John frowned at the sudden change in the man. “You disapprove? It’s what we do. We are, as you have so often accused, pirates.”

“No. No. I… You have had your conquest and it is time for another.” Grey slid from the mattress, pulling on the still damp breeches, a dull flush coating the lean back.

Surprise filled him at the words and he sat up. Surely not… “You’re jealous,” he accused. His butcher did not want to be replaced.

“Nonsense.” Next came the blouse, then the growing hair was tied back.

“No, I’m right. You wish to stay here and not be replaced by another.” He watched closely for the effect his words had on Grey, noting his own lack of interest in doing such a thing.

“What kind of fool would do that? Become enamored with a pirate?”

His mouth twisted, finding that he cared whether or not Grey was that kind of a fool. “Enamored or not, I am not yet finished with you.” He reached out and grabbed Grey’s arm, tugging the man close and taking Grey’s mouth in a hard kiss. “Not finished at all.”

Grey struggled a moment, then pressed against him, opening to him. Wanting.

He grabbed Grey’s ass in his hands, squeezing it through the material of the man’s breeches. He would have to make sure medical supplies were stolen, and a gentleman’s clothing so that Grey could dress as he preferred. John growled at himself, and kissed Grey harder, bending his slender back.

Such need. Grey held him, murmuring promises and pleas into his lips, whispering bare confessions. He slid his hands beneath Grey’s blouse, tugging it off again, fingers finding the eager buds that reached for his touch, begging him just like the rest of Grey’s body did.

“John.” Teeth sank into his bottom lip.

He groaned, his shaft leaping. “Stephen,” he answered.

“My pirate.” Another bite, those eyes sparking fire.

He squeezed Grey’s ass, pulling the man closer as another groan left him, the sound wanton and needy. Still damp, still tender from their previous encounter, Grey’s fine rear pushed into his hands, then pulled away.

John would not breach the doctor again tonight—despite what Grey called him, he was not a beast, but he knew the sensation of light touches could make the man ache, need. He pressed his thumb into Grey’s crease, his other hand coming around to find the swollen cock.

“I cannot spend again. Cannot need again. You’ll sap my strength.”

“Do I seem weakened to you, Butcher? For all I have come inside your mouth and your ass and against your skin again and again?”

“You seem inhuman.” Grey growled at him, unafraid, eyes flashing. “And I am no butcher.”

He took Grey’s hand and pressed it against his heart. “Feel my heartbeat.”

Then he dragged that hand down to his cock, wrapping Stephen’s fingers around it. “Feel my heat. I am human just like you,
Stephen
.”

“My name sounds good in your voice, John.”

He groaned and said it again. “Stephen. Mine.”

“Will you keep me, then?”

He looked into Grey’s eyes for a long time. Then John nodded. “Aye, Stephen. That I will.”

Grey’s smile was unlike any he’d ever received, filling him deep down. Gasping, he pulled Grey to him, bringing the man back into his bed.

Where Stephen belonged.

Chapter Eight

Stephen watched the green island quickly fade, the stretch of ocean growing. The cabin door was not barred, no one had bound him, prevented him from simply going above deck and leaving the ship. Leaving the pirates. Leaving John. He had not done so. Instead he had stayed below, watching the men disappear onto the island before coming back, triumphant, with their ill-gotten booty.

The door suddenly flew open, John striding in, blood upon his cheek and the sleeve of his blouse. A bundle was tossed onto the table, the pirate laughing, eyes wild and alive.

“Is the blood your own, Beast? Am I called upon to patch you yet again?”

John’s eyes met his, something hot flaring within them. Then John looked down at himself and laughed again, stripping quickly out of his blouse. “Indeed, Butcher, it seems that it is and you are.”

“And I suppose there are others in need of my services as well then?”

John shook his head and moved closer. “’Twas an easy plundering and you are not needed anywhere but here.”

The scratch was shallow, more an irritation than a true wound, but Stephen cleaned it, plastered it. John crowded him, half humming, half growling as he moved much closer than was needed.

“Aggravating man. Allow me to work.” He pushed back, John’s excitement contagious.

John’s hands landed on his waist and this time, instead of John pushing into his space, he was pulled into John’s, their hips coming together, John’s arousal clear.

“Did you enjoy your outing?” He pretended not to notice, chin lifted, keeping their lips apart.

“I did, Butcher. Can you not tell?” John’s eyes twinkled at him, hips circling, grinding against him.

“Beast.” He refused to smile. “I am no butcher.”

“No, for a butcher, you are a half-decent doctor.” John winked and grinned, hands beginning to wander upon him.

“You are too smug for your own good, honestly.”

“I have reason to be smug. We have raided the island and not lost a single man.” He was given a look. “Not one. We have replenished our food stores. Brought back treasures. My very own butcher tends to me.”

“Your own, you say?” Stephen smiled and took a sharp kiss.

John moaned into his lips, hands squeezing his ass. “My own,” came the answer as their lips parted.

“Yes. Your own.” There was no sense denying that now.

John took the bandages from his hands and tossed them toward the table, not looking to see if they’d made it or not. “Show me.”

“Pardon me?” Show John how?

John rubbed against him and nipped at his lips. “Show me that you are mine.”

“How?” How could he do that more than by his presence here? Stephen moved closer, hands reaching for John’s belly.

John purred, eyelids dropping heavily. “That’s a start, Stephen.”

“Perverse pirate.” He moved his hands, sliding them up John’s chest until his fingers brushed the peaked nipples.

John jerked, pushed into his touch. “You know me so well.”

“I do. You fascinate me.”

“I believe I like that.” John slid a finger beneath his blouse and pushed it up and off his body.

“The sun is still up!”

John laughed. “And what has this got to do with you and me?”

“It is perversity, pure and simple.” Perversity. Beauty. Sheer hunger.

“And what is this then?” John asked, fingers pushing into his breeches and wrapping around his erection.

“My… Proof of my damnation, my need.” His hips rolled, pushing toward that touch.

John’s hand continued to move on him, sliding, hot. “Is it so terrible, Stephen? To be damned?”

“No. No, not terrible at all.” He whispered the words against John’s lips.

“Yes.” The word was fed into his lips, John’s tongue sweeping in, the hand around his cock squeezing.

Then John let go of his cock and took a half step back, undoing his breeches, pushing them down. The pirate stood naked and proud before him. “Undress, Grey.”

“You still believe you can order me about?” He chuckled, stripping away his breeches and baring his need.

John licked his lips, eyes on him, heated. “I do. If they’re orders you wish to follow. Now kiss me.”

Stephen stepped forward, shaft slapping against John’s belly, the smooth skin almost cool against his heated flesh.

“Kiss me, Stephen. Like you want to.” John’s hands twitched, but they didn’t reach for him.

Stephen went up on his toes, sliding his body up along John’s, reaching for the kiss. John didn’t bend, made him stretch, but John’s mouth opened to his, let him in and John’s tongue met his, tangled with it. They moaned, both rocking together, rubbing, bellies tight and hard. John reached back to hold onto the bed, pushing his hips into Grey, moans filling his mouth. The heat between them grew, steady and strong, the passion intense enough to steal his breath.