A Collar and Tie (Ganymede Quartet Book 4) (59 page)

Henry was trembling when he said, “You belong to me in your
heart.”

“Yes, Sir. In my heart.”

The air felt thick and powerfully charged around them, and
Henry thought they should have been kissing already, that it should just
happen
somehow, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to move, how to reach for
Martin. He looked beseechingly at Martin; surely Martin would know what to do.

Propped up on his elbow, Martin smiled tenderly at him and
said, “Do you remember, Sir? Once before, you asked me to get into your bed so
we could talk.”

Slowly, Henry said, “I remember.”

“I wanted you to touch me so badly, Sir. My cock was so
hard, and I felt so desperate, and I was sick with longing. And you did touch
me then, do you remember? Here, I’ll show you.” He reached for Henry’s hand and
took him by the wrist. He brought Henry’s fingers to his neck and held them in
place.

Martin’s throat was hot and silky, his pulse quick and hard,
and Henry felt his sigh rather than hearing it. Martin swallowed and the
muscles of his neck lurched against Henry’s palm.

Martin sighed and said, “Oh, how I’ve wanted you to touch me
again, Sir. Your hand feels so good.”

“
Please
call me by my name, Martin.”

“
Henry
. Henry, let me show you where you touched me
next.” He put his hand on Henry’s wrist and slid Henry’s hand down to rest high
on his chest, over the Ganymede tattoo. “It was here. You put your hand here.”
His breathing was fast and shallow through parted lips, his cheeks pink. “Do
you feel how I’m shaking, Henry? I’m so excited, but I’m also a little scared.”

So was Henry, though all he said was, “I’m shaking, too.”

His eyes on Henry’s, Martin unbuttoned his pajama top
one-handed, exposing his smooth white chest, and took Henry by the wrist again.
“This is where you touched me next,” he said, sliding Henry’s hand down to rest
over his heart, which pounded crazily, a wild horse that wouldn’t respond to
the reins.

“You touched me one more place, do you remember?” Martin did
not wait for a reply, but took Henry’s wrist and moved his hand to press flat
against his hot belly. Martin shuddered and muscles twitched beneath Henry’s
palm.

“The first time—” Henry began, then had to stop and clear
his throat, embarrassed, before continuing. “The very first time I touched you,
at the auction house, I touched you here, too.”

Martin laughed, rich and dark. “Oh, that’s right! I was very
bold, wasn’t I, Henry? Touching you without leave.” He made a ‘tsk’ sound and
shook his head, though he was clearly mostly amused at his misbehavior.

“You should always feel free to touch me,” Henry said, his
voice rough and shy. “Whenever you want, for whatever reason.”

“Then can I show you one more place, Henry? Back then, I
wanted so badly for you to keep touching me, but you stopped, and I didn’t know
how to ask you to keep going. I didn’t know if you’d want to.”

“I wanted to,” Henry assured him.

“I’ll just show you now, then.” Martin took Henry’s wrist
and moved his hand lower, pressing it over his hard cock, and they both moaned.
The fabric of his pajama pants was wet beneath Henry’s palm and his cock was as
hard as it had ever been. Henry was hard, too, just as hard and just as slick.
Henry felt the shape of Martin’s cock through his pajamas, the flared head and
straight shaft and the balls pulled up tight, and in a tremulous voice Martin
said, “I love the way you touch me.” After a few seconds more of Henry feeling
him through his pants, he shuddered and squirmed and asked, “Can I take off my
pajamas, Henry? I want to be naked for you.”

Henry nodded and said, “Yes. Anything you want.”

Martin wriggled out of his pajamas and impatiently stuffed
them down into the bed. “I’m sorry, but I’ve lost a little weight and I don’t
look my best.”

Henry shook his head adamantly. “No, you’re beautiful.” He
had
lost weight, but he was still so lovely, colored like a nymph and smelling of
vetiver and arousal. He was perfect.

Martin pushed the sheet down below his hips and exposed his
hard cock to Henry’s scrutiny. “Do you see, Henry? I’ve wanted you so much.
I’ve missed you so much. I want you to touch me, and kiss me, and make love to
me again. Even if you’re just using me, I want that.”

Henry shook his head again. He could never just callously
use Martin.

“
Please
, Henry. Please do these things for me. I’ll
beg, if you want.”

“No. I don’t want you to beg.” Henry reached for his buttons
and said, “Help me,” and Martin did, and Henry struggled out of his pajamas and
kicked them away, tangled in the sheets.

“Your beautiful cock,” Martin said fondly, as if greeting an
old friend. “May I touch you?”

“Not yet.” Henry shook his head, quite sure that he’d come
instantly if Martin’s hand came in contact with his prick. He took hold of
Martin’s wrist, just to keep track of his hand. “Can I kiss you?”

Martin gave a shaky moan and smiled. “Oh, yes,
please
.”

Henry slid across the sheet, closing the few inches that
remained between them, and pressed his lips to Martin’s, pressed his body along
Martin’s lithe form. Martin wrapped his leg around Henry’s and pulled him in
tight, and feeling Martin’s cock against his belly, his cock against Martin,
was like being hit by a thunderbolt. Martin moaned in his mouth, sucked his
tongue, bit his lip. Henry found his other wrist and held it tight and they
kissed and kissed, hungry and full of yearning.

Everything about Martin was as Henry remembered—the smell of
him, the taste, the texture of his skin—but it was better, somehow, too, richer
and more evocative than before, and Henry wasn’t sure if there was really
anything different, or if it was simply that he appreciated Martin more now
after having done without him.

Martin strained against Henry’s grip, his hands in fists.
“Let me go, Henry. I want to touch you. I’m
dying
to touch you!”

Henry laughed at Martin’s dramatics, but he let go of his
wrists. “Don’t make me come,” he warned. “I’m not ready to come yet.”

Martin heeded the warning, staying clear of Henry’s prick.
While they kissed, he wrapped his arms around Henry’s back and felt him
everywhere, from the nape of his neck to the curve of his ass. Henry touched
Martin all over in a hurry, as if checking to be sure he was much as Henry had
left him, but then slowed to enjoy their contact, his hand cupping the back of
Martin’s head to angle it for a kiss, his fingertips teasing Martin’s nipples
hard, then a hand in the small of Martin’s back pulling them close together,
cocks throbbing in the humid space between their hipbones. Henry was just as
powerfully aroused as he’d been before they’d begun, but he thought he was under
control now.

“Will you suck me?” he asked, his tongue darting out to
trace the curve of Martin’s ear. “While I suck you, too?”

Martin moaned and arched his neck, presenting his sensitive
ear for more attention. “I’d love that. I’ve dreamed about that.”

“Me, too,” Henry admitted shyly.

They scooted down toward the center of the bed and Henry
turned himself around, positioning himself so that Martin’s cock was at his
mouth and his cock was likewise at Martin’s. He breathed him in from a few
inches away, and then buried his face against Martin’s groin, nosing around the
base of his cock and balls. The smell of Martin’s skin was richer here,
saltier, and so deliciously arousing. Anticipation made his hands shake, and he
held tightly to Martin’s hip to still the tremors.

Martin nuzzled Henry’s balls and gave a little broken cry,
and the pleasure of the contact, and the pleasure of knowing Martin genuinely
wanted him, brought Henry dangerously close to finishing. He gritted his teeth
and waited out the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

He slid his index finger into his mouth and got it wet, then
reached behind Martin’s balls and rubbed his wet fingertip over Martin’s
asshole. Martin gave a sharp cry and shuddered. Henry wet his finger again, and
this time he pushed past the tight ring of muscle and inside to plush heat.
With his other hand, he positioned Martin’s cock and sucked it into his mouth,
and Martin gave a shout and his hips bucked against Henry’s jaw.

“Oh god, let me do it to you, Henry,
please
.”

Henry let Martin’s cock slide out of his mouth, and he fully
intended to say no, but instead he heard himself saying, “Okay, but go easy on
me, all right?”

“I’ll only make you feel good,” Martin promised, sounding
almost giddy.

Henry sucked Martin’s cock back into his mouth and tried to
concentrate on what he was doing while he waited with some trepidation for
Martin to penetrate his ass. Martin tasted even better than Henry had
remembered, bitter-salty and bright, and he was especially wet and aroused, making
shallow thrusts into Henry’s throat while he sucked Henry’s cock.

Henry tried not to think too much about what Martin was
doing with his mouth for fear he’d come immediately, and he tried not to think
about what Martin was going to do to his asshole out of sheer terror and
embarrassment. But he felt Martin’s wet finger circling the puckered muscle and
probing at the opening, and it didn’t feel bad at all. He reminded himself how
terrifyingly good it had all felt in the saggy bed at the Calamus and supposed
it could feel every bit as good here and now. Martin took Henry’s cock deep
into his throat and pushed his finger firmly into Henry’s ass, and Henry gave a
startled gasp around Martin’s cock.

Martin felt for what he wanted and found it, and Henry shivered
with dread and pleasure mixed. It felt dangerous, electrifying and intense, and
once again he had the sensation that he was endlessly on the verge of orgasm,
the sensation building and building so that he felt out of control, unmoored.
His hips began to jerk and Martin pulled off his cock and stopped sucking him
but kept touching him inside, kept pushing him closer and closer to a hazy
edge. Henry realized he was groaning around Martin’s cock, bellowing like an
animal, and he didn’t care. He couldn’t shake the conviction that no one but
Martin would ever be able to make him feel this way, and it made what they were
doing feel holy, like a ritual, something completely outside of time.

Martin took his finger out of Henry’s ass, and he must have
wet it again, because now there were two fingers, or maybe more, Henry couldn’t
tell, but he felt so full, and so ready to explode. Martin fucked Henry with
his fingers and sucked his cock back into his mouth and let him thrust into his
throat. Martin made little noises, encouraging grunts, that let Henry know how
much he loved having Henry’s cock in his mouth. He touched Henry deep inside,
raw and vulnerable, each stroke pushing him toward some precipitous place, and
Henry was ready to fall, ready to
jump
.

Henry whimpered around Martin’s cock and crooked his finger
inside Martin’s body and tried to give Martin the attention he deserved, but
Martin let Henry’s cock slide out of his mouth and said, “It’s okay. Let me
make you come now, Henry, and then it’ll be my turn.”

With a shaky sigh of gratitude, Henry nuzzled Martin’s cock
and gasped against his groin while Martin sucked him, working the whole length
of his cock, and continued to probe his ass with precise, exquisite movements
of his deft fingers.

“
Martin
,” he said, because it was wonderful that they
were together again. “
Martin
,” he said again, because no one else would
ever make him feel this way. Finally, he groaned, “
Martin
,” because he
loved only him, and he belonged to him alone. He came in a burst of searing
white light, exultant and trembling. He clung to Martin’s hips, gasping for
breath, his face buried in Martin’s pubic hair, and waited for his heart to
stop hammering.

“Oh, Henry, my beautiful Henry,” Martin sighed, kissing his
softening cock. “Thank you.”

Henry laughed in surprise. “Why are
you
thanking
me
?”
Martin’s cock was still very hard, looming large right in front of Henry’s
nose.

“I’ve missed sex with you so much.” Martin nuzzled Henry’s
softening prick. “I’ve missed the taste of you, and your smells, and your soft
skin. You know how much I love your cock, and I thought I’d never have it
again.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Henry admitted, a lump in his
throat. He shifted a little, readying himself. “Shall I make you come now?”

Martin’s cock flexed in front of him and Martin chuckled.
“Yes, please. It’s been so long since you’ve done it, and it feels so much
better when it’s you.”

Henry put his finger in his mouth to wet it and Martin said,
“Two fingers, please. Start with two.”

Henry wet his index and middle fingers in his mouth and
pushed them into Martin’s ass, his flesh giving a little resistance.

Martin moaned and bore down on Henry’s fingers. “I’m not
going to last, Henry. I hope that’s okay.”

“Hard and fast?”

“Please?” Martin sounded so apologetic, and Henry didn’t
want him to feel bad about what he needed.

“Anything you want,” Henry promised him. “Go on and fuck my
mouth.”

Martin gave a loud groan and his hips jerked. Henry
positioned Martin’s cock and took it into his mouth.

“
Henry
!”

Martin’s hips jerked again, thrusting his cock deep, and
Henry choked, too long out of practice. Martin reached down and touched Henry’s
jaw and throat, feeling his cock moving inside. He fucked Henry’s mouth with
short, hard thrusts while Henry fucked his ass with his fingers, shoving a
third in beside the first two.

“Oh,
god
, Henry,
Henry
, I need to come,
please
can I come…”

Henry made encouraging noises around Martin’s cock, crammed
his fingers more emphatically into Martin’s quivering hole, and gagged as
Martin spilled down his throat holding onto the back of his head. Martin tasted
wonderful to him, and he was shaking again, and he had tears in his eyes.
Martin was making odd sobbing cries and his hands trembled.