Read An Improper Holiday Online
Authors: K.A. Mitchell
An Improper Holiday (14 page)
“I rather doubt that to be the case.” Nicky reached beneath him and wrapped a hand around Ian’s hard
cock. “I believe I still have your intently focused attention.”
“You do. But…” What was there he could not admit to Nicky now? “But I am starting to think that
my dread is making it worse than the reality.”
“Dread is it? I offer you a heaven on earth and you dread it?” But Nicky’s voice held a smile. “You
will sing a different song in a moment.”
Again Nicky’s touch began at his shoulders, but this time the comforting rub of his hands was
accompanied by the flick of his tongue making its way down Ian’s spine. He yearned to roll up into that light touch, to offer more flesh to be so caressed. When the tongue reached the end of his spine, the hollow at the top of the crease of his arse, Nicky gave a slow deliberate kiss, stirring the skin with lush heat before blowing his breath on the wet spot until gooseflesh dimpled Ian’s skin.
When the scent of lavender filled the room, Ian’s prick ached. He would have to sequester himself
until he learned to disassociate the scent from the expectation of pleasure lest he go about in company with his prick acting as tent pole in his trousers. Nicky oiled the crease, thumbs kneading the skin to a slippery softening that ended as soon as Ian felt the touch at his entrance.
“Relax your arsehole. This is the part where you get to help.”
“’Tis easier said than done, you know.”
Nicky laughed against his shoulder. “Yes, I do know.” He pressed and retreated, then again. “I want
to be inside you, Ian. My cock in you as you shiver around me.” His thumb worked its way in, startlingly larger than a finger.
Ian stretched his arms—arm—above his head. Nicky made slow deep nudges with his thumb until he
reached the limit of flesh and bone. After an initial twinge as his body opened, Ian accepted the sensation.
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An Improper Holiday
A little violating, a little uncomfortable, but when Nicky moved his thumb, swirled it, drove it in and out, Ian’s prick pulsed with pleasure.
In the moment when Ian thought he might learn to like it, Nicky stopped.
“Up on your knees.”
Ian scrambled to get his legs beneath him.
“Ever the dutiful soldier. You like having your orders.” Nicky whispered the words into Ian’s ear, hot breath brushing the skin. “Orders make everything easier.”
Ian shook his head.
Nicky entered him again with something, couldn’t be his prick, but God, it burned. Ian wanted to fall
back into the mattress, the fire in his arse sapping the strength from his legs.
“Push back on my fingers.”
Fingers. “Christ, how many?”
“Two.” Nicky sounded amused.
Ian groaned and pushed into Nicky’s thrust. The action seemed to open up space inside him for
Nicky’s fingers, space that Ian wanted touched.
“Yes, you like your marching orders. Saves you from thinking.”
“No.” He didn’t care for being ordered around any more than the next man, but somehow here, when
it was Nicky, Ian’s will gladly suborned to Nicky’s commands.
Nicky reached around Ian’s hips, fingers wrapping too damned loosely about his prick. “Then why is
your cock like marble? The skin’s that tight I think you shall spill before I can get my cock in you.”
“Please, Nicky.”
“Perhaps you should give the order.”
“Do it.”
“If you truly want it, give voice to it. Then you cannot say I made you.”
“Nicky.”
First Nicky stopped the light friction on Ian’s prick, then Nicky’s fingers fluttered inside, rubbing
deeply before they withdrew.
In an agony of suspended sensation, Ian ground out the words. “Will you bloody fuck me?” He licked
his dry lips. “Please?”
“Ever the gentleman.”
Ian buried his face in his good arm, trying not to think of how Nicky had learned to push a man to the point where he was desperate to be taken. How many times he must have done this to show such patience.
Nicky’s cock rubbed along the crease, nudging at the flesh that now seemed to want to capture that
blunt pressure, drag it in to touch all the newly discovered places inside.
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K.A. Mitchell
Nicky leaned down, his breath a damp kiss at Ian’s ear. “I will try to be slow, but I confess the very thought of this makes me slightly mad.”
“Glad I’m not the only one.”
Nicky huffed a laugh against Ian’s skin. “Together then.”
“Yes.”
Pressure, insistent steady pressure. Ian could bear this, it was—God, it was too much. No wonder
Nicky had cried that first time. Even with the oil, Ian felt scraped, torn.
Nicky held still within for a moment and then withdrew, leaving Ian panting into the pillow.
“You actually reach satisfaction with
that
occurring?”
“I do. Some men can climax with naught but the stroke of a cock in their arse.”
Ian took another deep breath. “I wish to give you this, but I do request you hurry matters along.”
Nicky’s hand made another soothing trip down Ian’s back, then gripped his arse cheeks. “We’ll see.”
Perhaps it was because it was expected, but the pressure had eased somewhat. Still painful, yes, but if Nicky wanted to have Ian’s body this way, he could manage. Nicky withdrew again and this time thrust
swift and deep, seating himself so completely Ian felt the slap of ballocks against his arse.
He bit his lip. No wonder Nicky had demanded movement. The sooner Nicky took his satisfaction the
better. Taking as deep a breath as he could, Ian said, “Please take your pleasure, but I beg you to recall I undertake a long carriage ride in a few days.”
Nicky’s laugh made the oddest sensation inside Ian, but before he could decide if he wished a
repetition, Nicky gripped Ian’s shoulder, shifting them. The prick lancing his guts shifted as well, and Ian remembered how enjoyable Nicky’s fingers had felt. Sparks of pleasure intermingled with the pain. Nicky began to thrust, holding Ian with a hand on his shoulder, hauling him onto that thick slam of a prick inside.
Ian groaned and pushed back, almost disbelieving his body should crave more.
“Yes.” Nicky dropped a kiss on the back of Ian’s neck. “With me.” Nicky’s hand gripped Ian’s cock,
dragging him toward completion.
He slapped at Nicky’s hand. “Can we wait?”
“If you wish.” Nicky’s arms wrapped around Ian’s chest, hands stroked his back, his sides, his jaw.
Nicky gave his fingers for Ian to kiss.
This was right. Nothing could be more so. Sharing pleasure, bodies climbing together. Why would
God have created bodies capable of scaling such heights if they were not meant to experience this?
His fingers twisted in the sheet. “Now.”
“No.” Nicky shook his head on Ian’s back and withdrew, leaving Ian aching. Punishment for all his
doubt, all his fears?
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Nicky grabbed Ian’s leg and urged him onto his back, lifting Ian’s legs high. “Like this.” Nicky drove back in, a swift tearing burn that subsided as he began his thrusts. “Couldn’t at first.” He smiled down.
“Thought if I watched your face, I would be off before the race.”
Like a lodestone, Nicky’s cock seemed drawn to the spot inside that spilled forth exquisite sensation, almost the very paroxysm of climax, but drawn out until Ian was drowning in it.
“Now.” It was Nicky demanding it this time.
Ian wrapped his fist around his cock. One stroke had him gasping, ballocks primed, prick ready to
fire.
“God, Ian, please. Come.”
He did, body launched through that fiery space, where all he knew was the heat bathing both of them
with each jerk of his cock.
Splash of warmth inside as well, Nicky shuddering, pouring his seed into Ian, the thought making his
prick twitch again.
Nicky’s breath crooned softly in his ear as he folded them together.
Ian’s head settled on his maimed arm, and Nicky tried to wedge his head into the same spot.
Ian tucked in closer to his own shoulder.
“Do you often sleep like this? I mean to say, pillowed on this arm?”
“What an odd question.”
“I was just thinking. Sometimes my own arm is twisted beneath me and goes to pins and needles. I
thought in that at least, you might be fortunate.”
“Yes, Nicky. You are mad indeed.”
“Truth told, I didn’t want you thinking too much.”
“Fear me not.” Ian leaned in and kissed him. He suffered neither guilt nor doubt for what they had
done. “Can I take you like that? I mean, on your knees?”
Nicky smiled. “What, now?”
“Well not precisely now,” Ian said with a rueful chuckle.
“Mr. Stanton, you may take me on my knees, against a wall, over a table, on my back, on my side, on
the sofa—”
Ian had lost himself in imagery somewhere around “over a table” as he thought of Nicky reaching out
to hold the edge as Ian slammed deep into his arse. “Well, perhaps not all that tonight.”
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Chapter Ten
To Nicky’s delight as well as his despair, once committed, Ian could not be turned from his path. At
the moment, his devotion to his chosen course gave Nicky blinding pleasure and what was sure to be a sore arse in the morning.
He buggered Nicky on his knees for what felt like an hour, arm around his waist with a hand stretched
to his shoulder, bracing him for every hard thrust.
Nicky rose to his own knees, clutching Ian’s foreshortened arm for balance, riding the cock that drove him to madness.
Ian lifted him slightly and withdrew.
Nicky released his grip. “What happened? Did you spend? Is it your arm?”
Ian’s chin rubbed the top of Nicky’s spine as he shook his head. “No.” His voice was hoarse. “I know,
I know there will be long stretches when we are apart.”
Ian had interrupted coitus for conversation? Of course he had done. With that iron will, he had kept to a lonely bed for years.
Nicky sought to concentrate on Ian’s words instead of the demands of a body which ached with the
sudden severance of completion.
Ian continued, “I would never ask that you not seek pleasure elsewhere, but could this—” his hand
squeezed Nicky’s hip, meaning plain, “—be mine alone?”
Nicky ached now with more than just pent-up seed. How could Ian have come to believe himself
unworthy of fidelity that he should couch his request with such diffidence? Nicky would rather Ian’s
jealous passion, his threats and fierce kisses. He twisted to pull Ian down onto the bed beside him.
“I would swear any oath to you, Ian. There is no part of me I would not keep for you alone.”
“An oath is unnecessary. Your promise will serve.”
Ian looked so grave, the
V
between his brows as deep as a valley. Nicky wanted nothing more than to erase those lines. “You have it. Besides, didn’t you threaten to geld me?”
“I did.” Ian spoke with solemnity, but Nicky could see the smile start in Ian’s eyes. He reached down
and stroked Nicky’s cock back to full attention. “And what a shame should it come to pass, but I would keep my word.”
Nicky gasped as Ian’s fingers lifted the sac beneath, the touch a teasing brush of feathers on skin
drawn tight with need. “Fuck me, Ian.”
An Improper Holiday
“With deep and abiding pleasure.”
~ * ~
Nicky woke to a rush of cold air as Ian eased out from under the covers. A shiver rolled down Nicky’s
spine. He wanted Ian back in bed, wanted warmth and then heat all over again, proof that Ian’s surrender was unconditional.
“Are you going to issue another retraction?”
Ian had his nightshirt on when he turned around. “No. Not at all.”
“So come back to bed. I’m cold.”
Ian bent to build up the fire.
“It’s hours till dawn.” Nicky knew he sounded petulant but he had faced death a few hours earlier.
Didn’t that entitle a fellow to a little comfort? “I know Julian spoke to you. Simmons would not bat an eyelash were he to find us together.”
Ian sat on the bed with his back to Nicky and pulled on his dressing gown. “And are we to live with
one servant? Constantly fearing for our necks?”
“I thought you had come to an understanding.”
“I have done. But there are practical matters to consider.”
“Well, as you say, I must marry.”
Ian turned to face him. “And that will make matters easier?”
“There is always the Continent. We could live in Italy. Like Byron.” Nicky shivered again. “I think it will be sometime before I regain my fondness for winter sports.”
“But how will we live? On my half-pay? My fortune amounts to scarcely eight hundred pounds,
Nicky. Will your father support you if you turn your back on your responsibilities?”
“He may.”
“Even if there was some way, what you said would hold more truth. If you abandon your family, you
would come to hate yourself and me as the cause.”
“Would you believe me if I told you that there is a simple solution to our problem? One that will bring much happiness to all concerned?”
“I am ever at your service, Nicky. But I’m afraid your reign as King of Misrule has gone to your
head.”
Now that Nicky came to it, the bald pronouncement was bloody difficult to make to a man’s face. He
and Charlotte had never quite covered this part of their plan. Nicky ran a tongue along his teeth in
contemplation. Perhaps something like this was best said without words. That Charlotte would be furious would only serve the minx right for the way she had tormented Ian. Nicky only wished he could be there to witness it firsthand.