The Butcher and the Beast (6 page)

The knock on the door made him growl, made him snarl. “Who is it?”

“Tom, sir. I have your mid-day meal.”

John chuckled and let Grey’s hands go. “Saved by my stomach, Butcher.”

Grey rolled away, dressing with a furious haste. Chuckling, John didn’t bother with clothing, just lazily made his way to the door to let Tom in. The boy gave him an admiring look, which made his grin even wider. He nodded toward the table.

“Did you bring utensils?” he asked the boy. “Butcher Grey believes they’re civilized and I’m in a mood to humor him.”

“Utensils? You need more than a knife to eat?” Tom looked from him to Grey.

Grey’s eyes rolled, just a touch, but the smile Tom received was not cruel. “A spoon? A fork?”

Tom smiled back, but then turned to John. “There’s no gruel on the tray, Cap’n.”

“I know. Bring the man a spoon anyway. And there should be forks in the cargo—that load from the governor’s shipment. I’ll bet there’s dinner plates and fancy bowls and all sorts in there. You bring that up and we’ll see if next meal we can’t make the butcher believe he’s eating at the king’s table itself.” He gave Tom a wink and a pat on the head, the lad heading off as soon as he’d finished setting out their meal.

“You see? I know a little of the needs of a genteel man like yourself. I can woo you if I must.” He managed to keep his mouth from twitching too hard. Those eyes rolled like dice, the doctor’s lips pursed. “Doesn’t it exhaust you?” He sat at the table, still happily naked, though that was more for Grey’s benefit than comfort—he wasn’t in the habit of wandering without at least his breeches on—and nodded at the other chair. “Being so proper all the time?”

“Of course not. It is necessary.” Grey sat, chin held firm, eyes a touch haunted.

John took the dark loaf then split it, giving the slightly smaller half to Grey before dipping his in the stew they’d been served. “Necessary? But why?”

“One cannot have a polite society without proper manners.”

He snorted. “And what does polite society get you except for uptight and unhappy people?” He popped the dripping bread into his mouth, tongue snaking out to capture the gravy that had escaped onto his chin. He licked his fingers as well, being noisy about it.

“A barbarian such as yourself could never comprehend.” Grey ate quietly, carefully.

John stabbed a piece of meat with his knife and ate it with relish, watching Grey managing with only his knife and his bread to maintain his polite and prim mien.

“A pirate I may be—and a barbarian, too—but I assure you, I am not stupid. I would take care not to make the mistake of believing that I am. Those who have in the past have found themselves separated from their belongings, their loved ones, and many, their lives.” Stupid men did not become captain of their own ship.

“I never accused you of stupidity, only baseness.”

“I have played the dandy, Grey. Does that surprise you? I know it does not surprise you to know that I far prefer my ‘baseness’ as you call it.” He leaned forward. “Being civilized gave me nothing but heartburn.”

His words surprised a laugh from the butcher, the sound welcome and real, intriguing. He grinned, watching the way the pale eyes lit up, Grey’s whole face becoming lighter for a moment.

John might have said something more, but Tom knocked on the door and barreled in without waiting on a reply. “I’ve the fork and a spoon, Cap’n. And you should see the hold! There’s a whole chest full of fancy stuff for eatin’. Cookie came with to tell me what was what, and there’s even stuff he don’t know what it is.”

“Bring it on up, lad. I’ve a mind to eat with my fingers off the governor’s best plates.”

“Beast.” Grey took the fork from Tom, cleaned it on the remains of his blouse. “Thank you.”

“There was some swish clothes down there, too, Cap’n. You want me to find some for the butcher?”

He shook his head. “No, just the plates.” He turned his gaze back to Grey. “I like the looks of the butcher as he is.”

Flesh peeking from the torn blouse, the tattered ends no longer covering the front of Grey’s leggings.

“You are evil incarnate.” Grey ate his stew more quickly now that he had the spoon.

Tom gasped at the insult, but John only laughed and handed over his bowl of stew to the boy. “Take that and soak your bread in it, lad. You need some meat on your bones.” He waited until the door closed, just grinning at Grey. “Perhaps I am, but I doubt only evil enjoys seeing one as lovely as you all debauched.”

“I am not.” Grey stood, moving about the cabin, buttocks taut and hard.

“Well I shall have to try harder then, to make sure that you feel as debauched as you look.” He stood as well, stopping Grey in his tracks. “Your lips are swollen, your clothes in tatters and you have this…” He stroked over the dark, lurid marks on Grey’s throat. “You should see yourself, Butcher. I am sure even your shaft would rise at the sight of yourself.”

Grey jerked away. “I’m sure I look as an animal.”

He licked his lips. “No. No, Grey. You look all man to me.” A fact his cock was rising to agree with.

“Behave yourself.”

“I thought we had already established I wasn’t very good at behaving?”

“You cannot blame a man for hanging onto hope, Pirate.”

John cornered Grey by his bed and cupped Grey’s head, tilting it. The light from the tiny porthole shimmered over Grey’s features, the reflection from the water leaving it dappled. “No, I would not have you hopeless.” He would not lose that fight and passion.

“You quite confound me, I swear.”

He could smell Grey’s musk. He stepped closer, his erection kissing his belly, and breathed deeply. “I imagine that doesn’t happen to you very often.”

“No. Not often, but entirely too often where you are concerned.” Grey stepped away.

John reached out and let his hand slide along Grey’s ass. “Good.”

Those pale brows lowered, Grey pulling away. John growled a little and settled back against the wall, hand wrapping around his cock. “You going to put on a show for me, Butcher? Stalk around the room and tell me what an animal I am?”

“I will not.” That stubborn chin lifted, Grey’s gaze fastened to his own.

John stroked his erection, sliding his palm along it, thumb caressing the head. “I can smell you, you know.”

“Then allow me to bathe.”

He laughed. “It wasn’t a complaint. But that’s an excellent idea.” Grey would have to get naked to bathe. He knocked on his door. “Tom. Bring water. Lots of it.”

Grey gave him a surprised, untrusting look. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Grey.” He managed not to smile, his hand slow on his shaft, his stroke lazy, enough to keep himself feeling good, but not to come. Not yet. “I’m sure you’ll come up with an appropriate way to show your gratitude.”

“I swear not to slit your gullet.”

John threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll take it.”

There was a knock upon the door and John let go of his shaft to allow Tom in, the boy dragging a large bucket full of water. “Good lad.”

He went to the drawers beneath his bunk and opened one, finding one large and one small cloth, along with a packet of soap he’d purloined from a lady aboard a small vessel several years past and liked the smell of.

He handed it over along with the towels. “There you are, Butcher. Bathe.”

Grey took the rags of his shirt off, started washing his face with the cloth.

John slid his hand down over his chest, along his belly to wrap again around his cock, the thick heat jumping against his palm as he watched. Grey steadfastly refused to look at him, simply washing and rinsing, cleansing himself. John worked with what he was given, enjoying the sight of Grey’s pale skin and light muscles as they became wet. He groaned as the cloth went across Grey’s little pink nipples, his hand working harder along his cock.

The breeches came off next, the knit cloth beneath so thin as to be near see-through. He didn’t try to hide his groan, his hand moving faster, his breath becoming shorter. He could see no reason to wear such a piece of clothing aside from arousing one’s self—or one’s lover.

“Beast. Such noises you make.” Grey pulled away his underclothes, the soapy rag cleaning the cock hidden there.

“I would hear them from you, Butcher.” His voice was husky, his pleasure evident in it. “I would have you take yourself in hand and find your pleasure. I would even have you look upon me to aid your search for it.”

“I would never, never abuse myself so!”

Look at the fire in those cheeks.

“A shame, that. You do not know what you are missing.” John stroked himself harder, groaning as his thumbnail dragged across the very tip of his erection. He would be buried inside those pale cheeks soon and Grey would love it.

Grey washed his thin legs, and shook out the tattered pants well before donning them again, hiding the fine buttocks, the heavy sacs.

“And there’s another shame. Hiding such beauty from the world. Even from yourself.”

It wouldn’t be long now. He would come soon. John stepped forward, intent on painting the doctor’s sweet belly with his seed.

“Men left Eden long ago.” Grey stepped back, the two of them almost dancing.

“Which is why we search for paradise where we can find it, Grey.” He nodded toward his cock, still flying through his hand. “I find it as often as I can.”

He moved closer again, a moan catching in his throat as he shot, spraying Grey’s stomach. Grey’s eyes flew open, shocked, even now.

Humming at the lazy sensation his climax had left in him, at the sight of those pretty eyes so full of surprise, John stepped even closer, rubbing his shaft in the mess on Grey’s belly, letting the man feel the heat of his flesh. “Now you smell like me.”

“I…I…I…”

Oh, look at Grey sputter.

“I had just cleansed myself!”

“Are you saying I’m dirty, Butcher?”

“I am saying you made
me
dirty, Pirate!”

He laughed, his hand taking over what his shaft had started, making sure his seed was well-rubbed into Grey’s skin. “There’s a lot of things I will make you. No longer a virgin is the one I anticipate the most.”

“Your pleasure in destruction is a true pathology. You do realize that?” Grey’s muscles were tight, jumping beneath his fingers.

John continued to touch, to watch his fingers slide on Grey’s skin, utterly fascinated. “Would you like to make a study of it? Of me?”

“You are too dangerous to study, too dangerous indeed.”

He nodded. “And that, dear Butcher, is the smartest thing you’ve said since you’ve been here.”

He bent and took Grey’s mouth, hands sliding up along the bare chest. He wondered how long it could take before those surprised gasps would fill his lips, before those hands pulled him closer instead of pushing him away. He caught them in his own, tugging them behind Grey’s back, bowing the slender body so that Grey’s belly pushed against his.

Grey moaned, struggling, panting into his lips. Oh yes, the fight, the passion, still as intoxicating as it had been the first time. His butcher had such strength in him—a core of steel. John tugged tighter on Grey’s hands, pulling the man back even farther and rubbing the two of them together. Grey’s cock began to grow hard, stiff and firm against his belly. Yes. Grey’s mouth might protest, those hands might push but the man was clearly aroused, clearly needed and wanted. Just like any other man. Just like him.

His laughter filled Grey’s mouth.

Grey’s hips rolled, entire body shuddering and shaking, eyes wide. He used Grey’s own hands, pushing them against the man’s ass to bring their bodies closer together. The heat and hardness of the man could not be hidden by the thin breeches. The struggles became less random, more rhythmic. A groan came from deep inside John and he matched the movements of Grey’s hips, letting Grey lead this dance.

“You have satyrisis, truly. It is unhealthy.”

“Satyrisis?” John laughed. “No, my dear Butcher. What I have is
you
.”

“No!” The word was pure fury, Grey’s hips rutting against him.

He spared a moment to wish Grey’s breeches, thin as they were, no longer impeded the glide of their flesh together, before sliding his lips along Grey’s neck. “No? It feels very much like aye to me.”

He tightened his hold on Grey’s wrists and scraped his teeth along one of his marks on Grey’s neck. That earned him a cry, deep and raw, the doctor’s chin lifting. Grey’s mouth kept saying nay, kept complaining and denying, but Grey’s body… Oh, Grey’s body told a most different story.

He pressed his tongue hard against a gently swollen mark, shifting just enough so that Grey’s erection had the solid muscle of his thigh to rub against. He felt the motion when it changed from a struggle to escape to a struggle to climax. John let go of Grey’s hands, cupping the doctor’s ass and guiding him, helping him find a rhythm that would drive him to what he needed.

“I… I…” Grey’s hands found his shoulders, expression wild.

John brought their lips together, cutting off Grey’s words. He was interested in no more of the man’s protests, not when it was quite obvious how much Grey wanted. His own erection slid against Grey’s belly with each movement Grey made.

Grey groaned, pushing into the kiss, for the first time truly responding, the sensation enough to steal his breath. John’s hands tightened on Grey’s ass, tongue sliding along Grey’s, encouraging the kiss, the push of hips. He began to forget the battle and lose himself in the response. The heat between them grew, bloomed like a storm over the Cape. Their tongues tangled, the kiss so much more, so much better with Grey’s response, with that need laid out to be devoured. Grey’s motions grew restless, random, soft sounds just pushing into his lips. His grip on Grey’s ass firmed, guiding the man’s hips, so the motions had purpose again.

As confounding as the fight had been, the surrender was a fascination, Grey’s plummet into passion catching all his attention. He watched Grey’s face, felt the muscles bunching and releasing beneath his hands, and against his cock. The need there was everything he’d imagined it would be.

Groaning, John pushed at Grey’s breeches, sliding them down past the man’s hips, releasing the thickened shaft. Grey jerked, skin soft and fiery where it rubbed against his thigh. So hot. He growled a little, sucking on Grey’s tongue.