Page 31 of It Takes Two to Tumble
Phillip froze. “What does that mean?”
“I want to do anything you’ve ever liked.”
“You don’t know that you’d like... everything.”
“If I don’t like it, we won’t do it again.” He spoke as if it were so simple, and maybe it was. “And if it’s terrible then it’ll be terrible together. But I... I don’t have the words. Don’t make me blunder through. But I want you to touch me everywhere, and I want to do the same to you.”
Phillip shuddered. “Yes,” he managed. “I want that.”Wantwas too weak a word. Hecravedanything Ben had to offer. He let Ben roll him over and watched in fascination as he knelt between Phillip’s spread legs. Phillip was naked, utterly exposed, even more so when he took a shaky breath and bent his knees up. Phillip swore under his breath and fisted his hands in the sheets when Ben took hold of Phillip’s cock, bracing himself so he wouldn’t come undone at the touch of Ben’s mouth.
He came undone anyway with first flick of Ben’s pink tongue on the sensitive head of his erection. Spasms of lust rocketed through his body. He reached up to grab the bed frame, steadying himself. Ben’s pale hair shaded his face, so with his free hand, Phillip brushed those strands away. Ben looked up at him and Phillip swore again. He supposed Ben’s inexperience shouldn’t triple his own interest in the proceedings, but his cock had perverse tastes and there was no reasoning with it. He groaned as Ben took the tip into his mouth and sucked.
“Do you like it?” Phillip asked. He needed to hear it.
Ben hummed in what Phillip assumed was assent.
“Show me how much you like it.” Phillip didn’t know what had gotten into him. This wasn’t how things were done. He had gotten his cock sucked dozens of times, and his general posture was restrained appreciation. He had never wanted to seem too enthusiastic, lest the person on the other end of the transaction think... think what? How had Phillip managed to get so bloody stupid? All he wanted right now was for Ben to know how damned much he liked this, how much he needed it, how good and necessary this was. Because this was something they were sharing, something they were doing together. He wasn’t receiving a favor; he wasn’t having his lust conveniently slaked by a friend. This was some unholy combination of desire and friendship and something else, because apparently when you took workaday lust and combined it with affection and threw in garden-variety honesty, you got something new and totally different.
Ben, evidently in response to Phillip’s request, gave an experimental suck on the head of Phillip’s cock before taking him deeper.
“God, yes,” Phillip groaned. “So good.”
He heard and felt Ben’s answering moan, which only made him harder still. And then he opened his legs a little wider and bent his knees a little more, deliberately giving Ben access to, well, whatever he might like. A frisson of something not quite shame, but adjacent to shame, coursed through his body. And, alarmingly, he liked that too. The idea that he was exposing himself like this, inviting Ben to touch him in a way he had never been touched, made his cock pulse. The idea that Ben made him want things he had never wanted, never allowed himself to want, was thrilling and terrifying all at once, and Phillip wondered exactly how much trouble he was in.
Ben had brought himself off imagining a man’s cock in his mouth more times than he could count, but the actual sensation of Phillip, hard and thick, on his tongue and between his lips, was enough to make him almost delirious with pleasure. It took him a few minutes to work his way into anything like a rhythm, to learn how to make his hand and his mouth work in tandem. By the time he figured that out, Phillip’s head had fallen back in pleasure, exposing the strong lines of his throat. Ben could have watched him like that all day—lips parted, hand gripping the bedpost as if it were keeping him afloat in stormy waters, hips rocking ever so slightly into Ben’s mouth.
Once he felt confident that he was not going to choke, he took his hand away from the base of Phillip’s erection and instead used it to cup Phillip’s bollocks. He was rewarded with a groan of pleasure and the taste of salt on his tongue, so he kept doing it. Phillip’s legs fell farther open, fully exposing his bollocks and even more private flesh beyond. Benedict wasn’t certain if he was meant to do anything with this. He was not such an innocent as to be ignorant of the different ways men could come together but felt inanely shy about asking whether the captain had sodomy on his mind.
And yet. Conscious that he might irretrievably ruin the moment, but not wanting to hold back any offering of pleasure or sensation that Phillip might desire, he tentatively traced a finger lower. The hand that had been idly stroking Benedict’s hair went still and Phillip’s body went rigid, but not, Ben thought, with displeasure. With... anticipation perhaps? Ben played his tongue along the underside of Phillip’s shaft while he brought his finger still lower, skimming along the crease of Phillip’s arse.
And then a single word. “Yes.” It was only a whisper on Phillip’s mouth but it sounded like it cost a hell of a lot so Benedict kept touching him, not daring to push inside but circling Phillip’s sensitive entrance while lavishing every care he could think of on Phillip’s shaft. The caress of Phillip’s hand on the shell of Ben’s ear seemed impossibly gentle, somehow more intimate than what Ben was doing with his tongue and his fingers. And when Phillip mumbled a warning, Ben knew he didn’t want to stop—he wanted to experience Phillip’s pleasure as fully as he possibly could, so he swallowed and sucked until Phillip pulled him away, dragging him in for a kiss.
“Thank you,” Phillip said, and something in the man’s slightly stilted tone told Ben that the veil of awkwardness was about to descend again. Of course it was. After anything that even bore a passing resemblance to vulnerability, Captain Phillip Dacre did his absolute bloody best to lock himself up right and tight. Well, too bad, because Ben wasn’t having any of that.
“I’m still hard,” he said, because it was true and because tending to his erection would at least defer the awkwardness. He palmed his erection and cast a deliberate, hungry glance at the captain’s naked body. “What are you going to do about it?”
Phillip flashed him a rare, lazy smile. “You ought to bring that over here and find out.”
Ben climbed up, intending to lie at Phillip’s side, but the captain pulled him on top. “Like this,” he said, wrapping his fingers around Ben’s prick and forming a channel with his fist. “Into my hand,” he murmured. It took Ben a moment to figure out what he was meant to do, then he started thrusting into Phillip’s fist, pumping his hips fast and hard.
“Soon,” he said, teeth gritted. He was already far gone, and after a few thrusts he came, knowing it was Phillip beneath him, receiving his thrusts, and wondering what that might mean.
They lay there, sweaty and sated, until their hearts returned to normal and Ben started to shiver. Ben probably ought to leave, but instead he pulled the covers over both of them. “Just for a few moments,” he said, almost apologetically.
“I wish you could stay all night,” Phillip said. That was impossible, and they both knew it. They couldn’t risk being discovered by the servants. That made it an easy offer to make.
“Do you really?” Ben asked. “I was beginning to think you wished me at the ends of the earth.”
“So was I, but then I imagined you in your own bed, and that would put you inconveniently far from my cock.”
Ben laughed softly. “Your cock has no say. It’s fast asleep.”
“It could be persuaded.” They lay silently long enough for Ben to think that conversation was over. “You make me want things I shouldn’t.”
“Likely you mean that as a compliment but it isn’t one. Just because I touched your—”
“You make me want to hold you all night and into the morning. You make me think I’ll hate getting back on my ship. You make me wish I could stay here and give you what you deserve. That I could be what you deserve.” That furrow had reappeared on Phillip’s brow.
“Bugger deserve. To hell with it. Who are you to decide who deserves what? Some people are starving and others are eating peeled grapes and you can’t mean to tell me that either group deserve a damned thing. You don’t get to tell me what I deserve.”
