Page 11 of A Case of Possession
It should have been a loving night, especially with the frustration of separation burned off. Crane felt a vulnerability in Stephen that filled his own body with a strange pain, and he made love accordingly, carefully and cherishingly. Stephen burrowed into him and he stroked the nape of the smaller man’s neck as he kissed his ear, lavishing attention on the sensitive lobe till Stephen’s breath was ragged. He kissed and stroked and licked his way along Stephen’s body, holding him tight, then moved down to gently take his balls into his mouth, rolling them lightly with his tongue till his lover moaned, sliding an oiled finger into Stephen’s arse and pressing with care, to arouse and not to tantalise. Stephen was warm and yielding and pliant tonight, and Crane felt a rush of tenderness as he watched the other man’s face, eyes shut, head tilted back.
“It’s all right, sweet boy, sweetheart,” murmured Crane, moving to kneel between his legs. “I’ll take care of you.”
Stephen’s eyes opened, and he met Crane’s look with a wide amber gaze for a second. His expression was unreadable; it looked almost bleak. Then he shook his head, drew up his legs and rolled over to a kneeling position, facing away.
“Stephen?”
“Like this,” Stephen said, his voice a little muffled.
“I can’t kiss you like that.” There was no position on earth that would let them kiss when they fucked. Crane didn’t want to say that he wouldn’t see distress on Stephen’s face, or read his pleasure, or the lack of it, through the prickling of his hands. “Stephen, are you sure—”
“This, Lucien. Hard. I need this. Please.”
Crane opened his mouth to protest, and stopped himself. Stephen had a taste for submission, of course, but on occasion he also used his body to quiet his mind, letting intense physical sensation block out sensitivities to things Crane couldn’t see and memories Crane was glad not to share. At those times he had a craving for rough treatment that Crane found slightly alarming, mostly because he was so much larger and stronger that he feared causing real hurt, and just a little because he was manhandling someone who could kill with a thought.
But Stephen knew what he wanted. Crane was disappointed, even irrationally angry, that his lover’s needs were so unusually out of kilter with his own desires. But it was obvious that the last few days had taken their toll, Stephen had made himself clear, and mostly, Crane couldn’t make him take loving if he needed fucking.
“You want it like this?”
“Yes,” said Stephen through his teeth.
“You asked for it.”
He grabbed the smaller man, and pushed into his body, slowly but without stopping, making Stephen take his entire length in one long stroke. Stephen cried out with desperation and relief, and Crane fucked him punishingly hard, ruthlessly imposing his size and strength with every stroke till Stephen wailed aloud. He could hear the heavy gold ring Stephen wore on a chain round his neck thumping against his chest as it swung with each impact. Crane held him down throughout, gripping his narrow shoulders and pushing them into the bed, and soon enough the younger man came, in shivering spurts and with a sound like a sob, as the magpie tattoo fluttered frantically on his back.
Afterwards Stephen lay facing away. Crane curled an arm over his shoulder, brushing a finger softly over his sparse chest hair, and they lay body to body for a while in silence, as the tension drained out of Stephen and his knotted muscles relaxed.
Finally Crane said, “Will you tell me?”
A few moments passed before Stephen answered. “You asked if Rackham could get me on a watch list.”
“And you said he couldn’t. I take it that wasn’t true.”
“He doesn’t have to. I’m already on one.”
Crane’s hand stilled. “A watch list names suspected warlocks. You are suspected.”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“A few weeks. I found out two days ago.”
“Why?”
Stephen shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does! You, a warlock? I’ve never heard such bollocks. You! Are they bloody mad?”
Stephen reached for Crane’s hand. The electric prickle of his touch wrapped warmly round Crane’s slender fingers. “Thank you, Lucien. It’s nice to have a defender.”
“What about your partner? Why isn’t she defending you?”
Stephen’s fingers twitched. “Because she’s watching me.”
“The bitch!”
“It’s not her fault,” Stephen snapped. “She wasn’t even supposed to tell me. She’s had orders, she can’t ignore it.”
