The Square Peg (17 page)

best he could. Ben tightened his grip, then realized he didn’t need to. Shane wasn’t

fighting him now. Shane rested his forehead against Ben’s for a moment, then tilted his

head, dropping a kiss on Ben’s cheek, light as rain. “I can beat him up for you,” Shane

murmured, leaving more kisses between words. “Teach him a lesson in appreciating a

good thing when he sees it.”

Unbearably aroused by the light kisses, Ben couldn’t concentrate enough to reply

with anything more than a grunt. Shane was caressing him, one hand sliding inside

Ben’s jacket, the other on his face, his neck, slow, yet eager touches, as if Shane couldn’t

help himself. God, it was such a turn-on to be wanted.

“Course, I don’t want him to see he’s made a mistake.” Shane’s lips were hot

against Ben’s neck, the kisses more demanding now. “You might go back to him, and

then where would I be?”

Ben couldn’t let that go. There was too much tension in the body he held. He

forced words past lips that wanted to kiss, not talk. “I wouldn’t. No matter what

happens with us. That’s over.”

Go back to that sterile, polite, passionless relationship? Ben shuddered.

“Want you.” Shane licked Ben’s neck, the wet drag of his tongue ending with a

nip at Ben’s earlobe that left it stinging. He groaned, the sound pure frustration to Ben’s

ears, his hands rough on Ben now, not demanding, but imploring, the intensity of his

need making him clumsy, the subtlety of his earlier kisses lost. “God, you’re killing me

here. Give me something. Need you.”

Again, Ben felt the rush of knowing he’d done this to Shane. Unflappable,

reserved Shane. It went beyond soothing his damaged ego. It was wrapped around his

compulsion to win this complete surrender from Shane, even if it was a battle he’d have

to fight all over again the next day.

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He scraped his teeth along Shane’s jaw just to feel him shudder. “Not here,” he

murmured. “If we’re going to do this again, we’re going to do it right. I want you naked

so I can look at you. So I can touch you however I want.” He pulled back so he could

look into Shane’s eyes.

“What, are you waiting for an answer? Yes. Of course it’s yes.”

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Chapter Ten

“Pull in here,” Shane said as Benedict slowed the car. “We can go in the back.”

Neither of them had specifically stated they wanted to keep this quiet, but it

seemed to be understood. In the long run, if it worked out, they wouldn’t be able to

hide it. For now, it was simpler to not have to answer any questions. Shane’s hands

were trembling as he latched the back door to his flat and shut out the world.

Before he could turn, Benedict’s arms were around his waist, Benedict’s chest

pressed to his back. Shane wished he’d had time to take off his coat. “Gonna do all

those things to me?” he asked. “The ones you were talking about?” Below them in the

bar, people were drinking and dancing and probably fucking in the bathroom. He and

Benedict were no different.

Benedict’s hand found the front of Shane’s jeans, thin with age and pulled tight

across the swell of his cock. “I’m sure as hell not going to fuck you in the kitchen this

time.”

“No?”

“No. Show me the bedroom.”

“It’s a mess,” Shane warned him as they walked through the bedroom door,

without supposing Benedict would care. Benedict hadn’t let go of him, making their

progress slow but enjoyable. Shane relished the feel of Benedict’s body pressed against

his, the way Benedict was touching him freely, intimately, taking Shane’s earlier yes as

license to do whatever the hell he liked. Shane liked that. It kept things flowing,

stopped him from doubting Benedict’s ability to make this good for them both. If he

needed to set a limit, he would, but Benedict hadn’t come close to one yet. Early days. “I

was going to do laundry.”

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The curtains were still drawn, the floor strewn with clothes, some clean, some not,

and the bed was unmade.

“You live in chaos,” Benedict said, disapproval edging his words.

“Yeah.” He turned his head, offering his neck up to be stroked by Benedict’s

fingers, stealing a kiss. Benedict tasted so fucking clean. Shane wanted to lick every inch

of him, find where that soap and water turned to an earthy musk, put his tongue

against skin that had probably never been kissed. God, if Benedict wanted it, he’d rim

him for as long as it took to make Benedict come, use nothing but his tongue to make

Benedict’s cock spurt and spill. He imagined it, his hands tied behind him, kneeling on

the floor, Benedict standing over him. He’d nuzzle between Benedict’s cheeks to find

that small, secret opening, begging Benedict to hold himself open so he could do a good

job. He’d end up breathless, his jaw aching, his face smeared with spit; then Benedict

would turn, come on him, paint his face and neck white. Shane turned fully, winding

his arms around Benedict’s neck. “Gonna make me tidy up before you fuck me?”

“I might make you change the sheets. They smell…ripe.”

Shane grinned, rubbing his erection against Benedict’s thigh, shamelessly

humping his leg. Benedict might sound prim and proper, but his hands were kneading

Shane’s arse avidly. “That’s because I jerked off on them this morning, and in the

middle of the night, and yeah, things got messy. I was thinking of you, though, so it’s

mostly your fault.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Benedict said. He had already slid Shane’s coat off his

shoulders and was tugging at his shirt. Shane lifted his arms cooperatively, feeling his

nipples harden as the cool air chilled his skin.

He gasped as Benedict’s warm hand settled on the small of his back and pulled

him closer. Benedict was hard as nails under his expensive, well-cut trousers, and his

mouth didn’t allow for anything but obedience. His kisses were forceful and impatient.

Shane longed to be overwhelmed by him, swept away by lust and need.

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“Gonna fuck you so hard.” Benedict used a hand to tilt Shane’s chin up and bit his

throat over the jugular. The nip of his teeth took Shane’s breath away. “You should

grow your hair. Nothing to hold on to.” His palm slid over the base of Shane’s skull in

illustration.

“Yeah?” Shane wanted to sink his fingers into Benedict’s dark curls and tug him

down onto the bed, wanted to feel Benedict’s solid weight on top of him. “Christ, hurry

up.”

Benedict’s head jerked back, eyes shrewd. “Patience. No, stay there. I’m going to

sit,” he said, and did, ignoring the tangled sheets. “And you’re going to take off the rest

of your clothes. Slowly.”

Fingers trembling, Shane did as he’d been told. Taking off his jeans generally took

about four seconds and ended in them lying in a heap on the floor. This time, it took

longer, though it was hard to go as slowly as he should have, because he was so fucking

eager. Standing there naked didn’t seem erotic—it was the same bare skin he saw every

day before he went to bed or took a shower—but the way Benedict’s eyes studied him

did. He could feel Benedict’s gaze like a caress.

“I like making you do this,” Benedict said, quietly enough that Shane wondered if

Benedict was talking to himself, working things out that in Shane’s opinion just were,

end of story.

“Make me do something else,” he suggested.

Benedict arched his eyebrows. “Like shut up?”

“That’s probably never gonna happen.”

Benedict snorted with amusement. “I can think of a few ways without even

trying.”

So could Shane, but he wasn’t sure he’d enjoy them all. He tried a smirk, knowing

that would provoke a reaction. He was so hard he was shaking with it, needing to

come, to take the edge off things so he could think straight. His skin felt hot, too tight.

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He was going to fucking explode soon if Benedict didn’t get his cock where it belonged.

“Just don’t use a sock if you go for gagging me. They’re all in need of a wash.”

“Thanks for the input.” Benedict crooked his finger. “Get your cute little English

ass over here and kneel down.”

“I can do that.” God, he just couldn’t shut up. He felt like shoving a sock in his

mouth himself, just to stem the nervous babbling. He wanted this, so why the jitters?

They’d done it before, after all.

He went to his knees in front of Benedict, his balls throbbing. Naked and kneeling,

and Benedict was all neat and tidy, fully dressed. The mildly humiliating difference was

deliciously arousing. He bit back a moan, waiting with the last shreds of patience he

possessed.

Benedict unzipped his trousers, stood, and without ceremony shoved his dick into

Shane’s mouth, deep enough that Shane’s eyes watered. Benedict hadn’t bothered to

push his trousers down. There was something raw and obscene about the way his dick

stuck out from those pressed trousers, darkly red, thick and hard.

Shane breathed through his nose and tried to relax, since he was sure fighting it

wasn’t going to make it better. Not that he wanted to fight it. As soon as he was able to

work a little saliva up on his tongue, Benedict pulled back and thrust forward again.

Shane grunted. Christ, Benedict was so hard, and he smelled fucking unbelievable, like

lust and laundry soap. His cock was big. Shane had remembered that from having it

shoved up inside him, big and thick. No foreskin, something Shane was used to now,

though it’d surprised him when he’d first arrived in the country.

“Get me good and wet,” Benedict instructed. He sounded as calm and in control

as if he were doing something boring and mundane instead of getting his dick sucked.

“I bet you’d like it if I came in your mouth, wouldn’t you?”

Shane’s eyes flickered up to meet Benedict’s along the expanse of his perfectly

ironed dress shirt.

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“Of course you would. But then I’d have to wait to fuck you, and I don’t think I’m

in the mood to wait.” Benedict slid his hand forward and took hold of the base of his

cock. It meant Shane couldn’t take him in deeply anymore, so he concentrated the

attention of his tongue and lips on the reddened, slick tip. “I’m gonna push this right

inside you, open you up. And I’m gonna fuck you for a long time, until you’re so sore

you can’t stand it.”

The noise that escaped Shane’s lips, pressed to the thin skin of Benedict’s cock,

was closer to a whine than anything else. He knew what that felt like, to have a raw,

stretched hole, because he’d been fucked to the edge of his limit. He wanted it. He

wanted the knowledge that each twinge belonged to Benedict.

Something told him Benedict had never come close to doing this with anyone else,

hurting them so beautifully, and so it had to be perfect. If his was the first arse Benedict

had fucked hard and deep, nothing held back, then he was going to make sure Benedict

got the ride of his bloody life. He’d had a taste of what Benedict was capable of, but this

wasn’t a drunken, spur-of-the-moment shag. They were both sure of each other now,

and it changed so much.

“And when I stop and ask you if you’ve had enough, if you say yes and I haven’t

come, I’m going to keep going,” Benedict said. “In your mouth if you tell me your hole

can’t take another second, but I’m going to come with my cock inside you one way or

another.” He drew the wet, smooth tip of his cock across Shane’s lips, back and forth,

carelessly enough that Shane’s cheeks ended up smeared too.

Shane threw back his head, offering his face up, his body. His vision blurred one

moment, sharp and vivid the next. Blood roared in his ears, his senses overloaded. He

could taste the clear drops beading the slit of Benedict’s cock, smell them with every

breath he took. He wanted to keep sucking Benedict until his mouth was flooded with

that taste, that smell, but more than that he wanted to be pierced and filled by what had

shaped his mouth.

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Benedict jacked his cock, his hand sliding over the skin Shane had left slickly

gleaming. He dried his hand on Shane’s hair. “Really need this to be longer.”

“I can grow it.”

“I think I’d like that,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Or to see you in something

smart. You’d look stunning in a suit.”

“Your own little doll to play with.”

Benedict inhaled sharply and pulled back his hand as if he thought he’d done

something wrong.

Shit, he needed to learn when to zip it. Benedict was too new to this not to spook

easily.

Shane closed his eyes. “I didn’t say I minded,” he whispered, a weight leaving

him as if he were confessing a sin, though he didn’t need forgiveness. Words he’d never