Objects Of His Obsession (22 page)

To never forget it.
Never
.

Because he would never see
anything this beautiful,
this true
,
again.

He tipped his head forward and
with one, two, swipes of his tongue, roughly cleansed Evander’s jaw, his chin
of his own seed.

And at that caress Evander
lifted a hand drunkenly, caught hold of his nape, dragging his mouth down to
his. The semen on Benedict’s tongue rolled between them in a long, languorous
kiss.

It tasted of Evander in every
way. Of his seed. Of his sweat. Of the rust of his blood.

And then Evander opened those
blue, blue jewels of eyes and stared into his. Flexed his inner muscles deliberately
along Benedict’s throbbing, needy length, that shaft of hot flesh buried deep,
and thrust his hips up until Benedict could not have been buried deeper.

“
Now
,” he demanded. “
Now you
come for me
. All of it, all of you, your seed, your cock, your body, that
fierce, honorable damned heart of yours,
all
of it
, Ben.
Mine
.
Now come. Give it all to the one who owns
you
.”

Gasping, Benedict couldn’t hold
back any longer. He drew back, lungs burning, cock, balls, aching, and drove
into Evander with everything he had.

And as Evander had demanded, he
came. He came and it felt like nothing he’d had before. He roared his pleasure
as he rode it out, rode Evander, pouring himself into him, pouring everything
into him, the pain, the loss, the heartbreak of all the lost months between
them, he gave Evander everything, all,
more
,
and then, finally, when he was utterly drained, emptied, lungs raw and starved
of oxygen, cock sliding through his own seed, he slumped over him, barely able
to keep his full weight from collapsing on him.

And Evander wrapped his
muscular arms about Benedict’s sweat-slicked back, wrapped his legs, dusted
with black hair, about his body, and didn’t complain about that muscular, big
boned weight at all.

Instead he pressed his
beautiful, bruised, carnal mouth against Benedict’s temple, the sweat dampened
hair falling over it.

And Benedict felt that mouth
curl into a smile.

“Sleep, Ben,” he murmured, no
detached chill in his voice. That gone, utterly. He stroked his fingertips
lazily, absently, up the line of Benedict’s back. Over his ribcage. “My
beautiful intellectual. My mad Egyptologist.”

Against his chest, Benedict
rumbled with a laugh. “Do not disparage my calling,” he managed.

Evander chuckled. “After the
fucking you’ve just given me? I’d never disparage a damned thing about you.”

“No?”

Evander laughed, deeper this
time. And that laughter felt so good, rumbling against Benedict, as he purred,
“You could conduct an archaeological dig in that tiny patch of garden out the
front there and I’d call you a genius. And believe it.”

“I’d find gold,” Benedict determined.

“You would.
And you will
.” Evander’s arms tightened
about him and Benedict’s breath hitched, caught. He felt his cock softening,
pressed a kiss against Evander’s mouth and drew away, getting off the bed.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he
said, and headed off to the bathroom.

In truth, as he walked into the
white and blue tiled room, he had to pause a moment,
be alone
, lean back against the closed door. Because his heart was
so full and he didn’t know … hell, anything.

His beautiful intellectual, Evander
had teased. No, bloody hell, he was no beauty, and right at this moment, no
intellectual.

But happy? Oh Christ, yes. In
fact he damned near sang, had to restrain himself from singing the one shred of
opera he could recall in his cracked baritone as he washed himself at the sink,
found a washcloth, wet it for Evander.

And as he returned to the
bedroom, to find Evander lying on his side, golden olive in the lamplight, like
some great, resting, sleek jungle cat, he could not prevent the insane grin
that tore at his lips.

He loved this, he realized. The
warm body. The easy conversation, teasing. And the fucking, the incredible
fucking that his body would probably still be feeling tomorrow. He even enjoyed
the ritual of leaning over Evander, the male spreading his thighs for him to
clean him up. Which he did, after swiping most of him clean but for a spray of
seed smudged across his throat, down across one small disc of a nipple.

That, Benedict took care of
himself, licking him clean until Evander was purring beneath him like the big,
lithe jungle cat he so resembled, his cock hardening again, rough sounds
beginning to tear at his throat as Benedict grazed one of his pectorals with
his teeth, sucking hungrily at the flesh.

“Fuck, Ben,” Evander hissed.

“No,” Benedict insisted. “All
of you. You said it. Life is short. Don’t deny me anything. I want it all, all
of you.”

“Christ.” Evander fell back
against the pillows, giving in with a smirk. “What the fuck have I unleashed?”

“The man that you wanted me to
be.”

Blue eyes burnt on his face as
he glanced up at his lover. “The man I always knew you were,” he was corrected.

Benedict shifted, his swollen
lips just over Evander’s rapidly hardening cock, his golden warm gaze fixed on
his lover. “I’m going to suck you off, but before you come, I’m going to stop.
And then you’re going to fuck me, and fuck me hard, right through this bloody bed,
just like you promised earlier, do you understand?”

Amusement glittered in those
astonishing eyes. “You’ve become quite the dominating beast, haven’t you, Ben?”

Benedict arched a brow, lips
hovering over Evander’s swelling cock. He was incredibly happy, joyous.
Couldn’t hide that. But couldn’t tell the man he loved him either.

Somewhere, he was pretty damned
sure that was in the rules Evander had spoken of. Lust, yes. Love, no. Evander
was just too detached for that, no matter how heated his words.

So instead he corrected wryly, “No,
it’s the archaeologist in me. I like to plan ahead. But like all good
archaeologists, I also really, really, love surprises.”

Evander roared with laughter
and fell back against the bed.

“Suck and fuck. It sounds like
a damned good plan to me. And I promise, absolutely, to surprise you, Ben.”

It was early evening before
they emerged from the bedroom and back to any form of reality.

“You need a damned telephone
installed, Ben,” Evander grumbled, standing under the shower installed over the
bathtub. Steaming water was flowing in rivulets over that olive skin and Benedict,
seated on the small, lone wooden chair the room possessed, was thoroughly
enjoying the view. “If you had one, I could call back to Juliana and let her
know to cancel tonight’s plans. We could stay here, go out later for dinner.”

Benedict grinned. “And Juliana
could spend the evening with Eliza.”

“Most probably.”

Fucking brilliant how both
parties on either side of this gained, Benedict decided, pushing down rumbling,
faint misgivings.

Evander stepped out of the
bathtub, caught the towel Benedict threw him, and roughly toweled his hair, his
body.

Benedict tried not to stare,
greedily drink in that sight, instead quirked a brow. “So what were your
plans?”

“Dinner and then the theater.
Just Juliana and I.”

“You do truly enjoy each others
company, don’t you?”

Evander paused, frowned. “You
find that disturbing? Odd?”

Benedict shook his head. “No,
not at all. Pleasant, frankly. Well, much more pleasant now that I know her
tastes don’t run to … well, men. Or I assume not.” Embarrassed, he ran his
fingers roughly through his hair, making it spike up at angles. “I’m just
damned useless at times. No diplomat.”

Evander laughed and nodded.
“No, you’re not. Although it’s an endearing trait.”

Benedict chewed at his lip,
watching as Evander toweled his hair more thoroughly and spoke without thought,
“But she must have … well, you and she. At a certain point, early on. You were
lovers.”

Evander dropped his hand, threw
the wet towel to the edge of the tub and stared at Benedict.

“Because we have children?” he
said flatly.

“Well, yes.”

Oh hell, he knew he’d said the
wrong thing. Brought up a personal subject that just…

But Evander was eyeing him as
if considering just how much further to allow him into his world. Into its secret,
hidden heart.

Finally he said quietly, “Ben,
Juliana and I have never been lovers.”

Benedict felt his faint flush
deepen. “You have–”

“Children. Two, yes, I know,” Evander
said patiently. He ran a hand over his face and said very quietly, “I am
telling you this because … well, you and I, I don’t think it’s a passing thing.
And I know you don’t view Juliana as any kind of a rival but … it would
probably help ease things if you understood. Juliana truly never found the idea
of a man’s touch … tolerable, in the carnal sense. And since I married her for
other reasons myself, that was no problem. But we did both want a family. She
knew I preferred men, I knew of her relationship with Eliza, and … well, all a
woman requires of a man to become pregnant is his seed. You understand?”

Benedict was dumbfounded. “You
mean she?”

Now Evander, for the first time
ever, Benedict realized, was looking truly awkward. “I believe Juliana found a
suitable implement in a chemists shop and I supplied her with…”

“Good God!” The words had exploded
out before Benedict could stop them. He gave a sharp burst of laughter and then
clammed it down, shook his head. It was such an eminently sane, practical
solution to their situation and yet… “Didn’t Juliana’s doctor think it odd that
it was a … virgin birth?”

Now Evander truly flushed. For
the first time ever, Benedict would bet. Not that he’d comment on it.
Hell, bloody, bloody hell, no.
Not with
that fiery red across Evander’s cheekbones matching the ferocious glare he gave
him. He’d rather run into a blazing inferno. “You really do lack any diplomacy,
don’t you, Yeats? You do realize that you are talking about the conception of
my children?” He drew a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, cut Benedict a
grim sideways glance. “I never asked but would assume that since there seemed to
be no … problems, Juliana and Eliza… Well, had probably been playing around a
little. With toys.”

Evander was elbowing his way
past Benedict as if he could not get out of the bathroom fast enough. Benedict
stood up and caught him by the arm. His own face hotly flushed, his warm brown
eyes were pleading. “Please, Evander. I truly don’t mean to be offensive. But
you must understand, this is … in so many ways, a strange new world for me. And
I’m … totally bloody hopeless, unless you put something at least a thousand
years in front of me, at working out the blindingly obvious. Yes, of course I
can see now how you and Juliana managed things. And very sensibly. How it was
all managed. I was just being a fool and not thinking anything through before I
opened my mouth.”

Evander stared at him for a
long moment, the tension slowly easing out of him.

“Juliana wanted more children,
you know. Three or four, at least,” Evander said softly. “And I would have been
happy for more myself, but Amandine’s birth … well, it was difficult. For a
while, I thought I’d lose them both. So we have the two, and they make us very
happy.” He paused, turquoise eyes suddenly guarded again, but this time in a
different way. “And you, Ben? You’re very good with children. They love you.
You can’t tell me you don’t want any.”

For once Benedict could breathe
easily. He gave Evander a quick smile, shook his head. “No, to be honest. In a
way, my work is my child. And while I like children, I truly don’t want to
father any. I don’t want that responsibility, and I just don’t feel the need
for fatherhood. Not to mention, I’d have to get married. And amicable
arrangements such as yours are pretty damned rare. So no wife. I couldn’t lie
to a woman about something so important.”

Evander’s eyes searched his
face. “You truly mean that? You don’t want a family of your own?”

“There are lots of different ways
of living, Evander. They don’t always include children, and they don’t always
include families.”

Now he was the one to feel
awkward, because didn’t that just sound so damned forlorn,
pathetic
, shouldering as smoothly as he could past the man in the
doorway.

The man who had found a sane,
if unconventional solution for every problem in his life. The man who had a
wife who shared her husband’s pragmatism and wit.

Juliana probably had as close
to everything she’d ever dreamt of in her life, even if she couldn’t live with
her long-term lover.

And Evander? He’d come damned
close to arranging his life exactly to suit himself.