SleepyHollow2BookBundle (6 page)

As John exhaled sharply, his breath hit Brom’s face in a warm rush. When Brom removed his hand from John’s, John continued to grip him, moving his hand up and down Brom’s shaft, the edge of his fist kissing the head at the end of every other stroke, making Brom dizzy with sudden pleasure. He groaned, pressing his lips against John’s again, kissing him hard, fucking his mouth with his tongue like he wanted to fuck his body.

Though still slightly tentative, John’s touch felt so good that Brom couldn’t help flexing his hips, driving his cock deep into John’s fist, wanting more, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand it for much longer. Removing his hand from John’s shaft, he reached below and caressed John’s balls before dipping lower, running his fingertips over the lean curves of his ass.

As Brom’s touch trailed lower, John’s hand stilled on Brom’s shaft, and he gripped it hard, blurring the line between pleasure and pain as he tensed against the ground, against Brom. The ache caused by being held so tightly fueled Brom’s lust, and his cock sent desperate messages to his brain, urging him to get inside John’s body, sooner rather than later.

Ignoring his more animal urges, Brom went slowly, teasing John’s entrance, pressing a fingertip against the heat of it. John tensed a little more, sucking in a breath. “Have you ever…” Brom asked, continuing to stroke him there, his fingers tingling with the urge to fuck John.

“No,” John said. “Not with a man.”

Brom kept his touch light, resisting the impulse to push a finger deep inside, to test John’s tightness. John’s balls had drawn up, close against his body. So had Brom’s. “You’ve never been with a man?”

“No,” John repeated, his answer half-gasp.

“Christ. Last night, then… The kiss was that good?” He might have laughed if he hadn’t been on the verge of being the first to be inside John, if he hadn’t been fighting the urge to come at just the thought.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” John said, his eyes hooded and half-closed. “After I returned to my room, I…” He pressed his free hand to his own groin, running a thumb down the underside of his shaft and cupping his balls, shuddering lightly.

“Damn, what a wasted night,” Brom said, vividly imagining John in the next room, desperately seeking release just as he himself had, spilling onto the sheets instead of into a warm body.

A bright flush had crept over John’s face, staining his cheeks pink and highlighting his youthfulness. His eyes glimmered as they met Brom’s. “I’ve thought about it before. Being with a man, I mean.”

“But you’ve never done it.” Brom ceased his stroking and cupped John’s ass instead, drawing him close so that they lay hips to hips, their cocks touching. He pulled John’s hand away from his shaft so that there would be nothing between them besides their disheveled clothing. John would be his, and he would be John’s first. It seemed too good to be true, and he wasn’t about to let John go before it happened.

John shook his head, and a few locks of hair that had escaped the tail he’d tied them into streamed across his reddened cheeks.

“When you thought about it, how did you imagine it?” Brom asked, tightening his grip on John’s ass, his fingers curling possessively into the firm flesh.

“I – I don’t know.”

“If you won’t tell me, I shall take it upon myself to show you exactly what I imagined when I thought of you.” He pulled John so tight against himself that his cock ached as it pressed against John’s, caught between their entwined bodies. He’d have no trouble living out his fantasies; between the way John’s cock felt pressed against his and the two years and some months he’d spent celibate, he was beyond qualms. Besides, was there anything less than perfect about the way he and John had found each other, had ended up lying half naked and hard in the field together, ready to give in to their mutual desire? Things had been awkward at times, but it had all been worth it for this.

John didn’t protest, and didn’t tell his secrets, so Brom took action, undressing and helping John to do the same, resisting the urge to rip the clothes from the other man’s body instead of removing them with relative care. When at last they were both bare, he rolled so that John lay on his back beneath him. Their bodies fit together nicely – Brom was only a little taller than John, though John’s lean build stood in contrast to Brom’s frame of thicker muscle. A perfect combination, so far as Brom was concerned.

Brom’s cock throbbed with longing to be inside John’s body, but he ignored it as he placed his hands on John’s knees and pushed, spreading them farther apart. Reluctantly, he removed himself from on top of John and knelt in the grass between his legs instead, admiring the view of John open wide before him, ready for Brom to show him the pleasure he’d imagined.
 

He reached out and grasped John’s cock in one hand, cradling his balls with the other. He was determined to make this good for John, to give him an experience that would fulfill whatever secret cravings he was too shy to put into words. He wouldn’t last long after he was inside him, anyway.

Brom stroked John until he feared he’d push him to climax if he didn’t stop. The grass around them swayed as John writhed, his head tipped back and his hair wild, entangled with the vegetation. But it didn’t matter – they were alone, and the only sounds were John’s heavy breathing and the occasional chirp of a lark. Unwrapping his fingers one by one from the base of John’s shaft, Brom pressed them to his mouth and wetted them with saliva. He had an excess of the stuff; it kept flooding his mouth as he looked at John, longing, even hungry as he greedily eyed every inch of flesh, every scrap of hair. He didn’t want to hurt John, but God, he wanted to fuck him.

His fingertips slid easily over John’s hot skin, pressing against his entrance. His other hand rested on the inside of one of John’s thighs, and he felt the muscles go tense. “It will be easier if you relax.”

“Easier said than done,” John replied, but he opened his thighs a little wider in a gesture that Brom guessed was born half of trust and half of bone-deep want, inviting Brom in.

Slowly, Brom slid one finger inside him, breaching his entrance to be embraced by the tightness within. Carefully, he began to fuck him that way, his single finger being crushed by impossible tightness. John gasped as Brom continued, and Brom noted with a sense of satisfaction that John was still rock-hard. With his free hand, he gripped John’s cock again. John’s passage tightened around his finger as soon as he began to stroke him, his fist wrapped snugly around his shaft. Taking the cue, he added a second finger, his own cock aching as he stretched John. “How is it?” he asked as he used his hands to fuck John from both the inside and outside.

In answer, John bore down with his hips, forcing Brom’s fingers deeper inside.

“Damn,” Brom breathed, running a thumb over the blunt tip of John’s cock. It was moist, crowned with a small bead of wetness that sent a thrill of pride through Brom. He slowed his stroking, not wanting to make him come – not yet – and added a third finger.

The fit was impossibly tight, and it made his entire body buzz with anticipation to imagine the snug sheath of muscle and heat around his cock. Soon enough, he silently promised himself as he buried his fingers to their knuckles, readying John. He had to relinquish his hold on John’s cock when John arched against the ground, moaning. But he kept him on the edge by continuing to push and pull his fingers in and out, and it was pleasing to see that John’s cock remained firm as he breathed hard, his deep breaths interspersed with gasps and moans. He was ready.

 
Brom withdrew his fingers and pressed his other hand to his mouth, wetting his palm with more saliva. It was the only lubricant he had available in the field, and combined with desire, it would have to be enough to smooth the way. He smeared it generously over his hard cock, causing it to gleam with dampness in the sunshine. When he was done he leaned down, pressing his mouth hard against John’s in a brief but fierce kiss and then letting his lips brush John’s jaw. “On your knees.”

John’s pupils were dilated, his grey irises reduced to thin rims, and his lips were parted. His breathing was still rapid, and too shallow, but he obeyed.

Brom squared up behind John’s hips, letting the head of his cock rest on John’s firm ass. “Breathe deep,” he said, reaching around to cup John’s balls, fondling them and liking the way they rolled hot in the palm of his hand. “I won’t harm you.”

He could easily see the rising and falling of John’s sides as he tried to control his breathing, but it made little difference. John’s heart was probably pumping a thousand beats per minute. So was Brom’s. Taking a deep breath, he grasped his cock mid-shaft and positioned the moist tip at John’s entrance as he relinquished his hold on John’s balls, letting them hang freely, close to his body. “Relax.” He ran his other hand up John’s thigh and then gripped his hip, unsurprised to detect faint trembling. Carefully, he flexed his hips, breaching John’s entrance and pushing inside, inch by torturously slow inch.

When Brom’s cock was halfway buried, John cried out, loud and raw, digging his fingers deep into the grass and clutching handfuls of it in his fists. His channel clamped down on Brom’s cock, so tight he could hardly move. He continued to ease his way in, his blood thrumming in his veins as John groaned, dropping his head. Loose strands of his hair fell around his face like a curtain. “Oh, Christ, it hurts,” John sighed.

Brom stilled, neither thrusting nor pulling, just letting his cock rest inside John, though he couldn’t stop thinking about the next thrust, the next cock-squeezing contraction of John’s unbelievably snug passage.

“But don’t stop,” John added, panting now. “Don’t stop.”

Brom tightened his grip on John’s hip. “I won’t.” John’s pleading was a relief; he was sure it would’ve killed him to stop. John’s channel was a perfect fit, and its tightness was making his head spin, sending fiery bolts of incredible pleasure through his entire body. He resisted the urge to pull his hips back and slam them against John’s ass, finishing the deed in a few deep, primal thrusts. It would have been so easy – too easy. Instead, he withdrew halfway and rocked into him slowly, stretching his virgin passage.

After a few more strokes, Brom reached around John’s hips and grasped his cock.

John swore and moaned, flexing his hips. The motion sent his shaft spearing hard through Brom’s fist, then caused his ass to slam back against Brom’s groin, burying Brom’s cock to the root.

Brom groaned, assorted profanities whirling through his mind and dancing on the tip of his tongue as liquid heat began to pool at the base of his spine. It had been so long, and it felt so, so good to be inside another warm body. John’s was perfect, and clearly aching for more of him, as was evidenced by the way his channel pulsed around Brom’s hardness, practically begging him to thrust harder, to spill his seed deep inside him. The way the man gasped and moaned as they fucked would have been enough to drive Brom to his knees if he hadn’t already been kneeling. He pumped his fist up and down John’s shaft, eager to make sure his lover came before he took his own satisfaction.

John lost himself in a hot rush, his seed spilling wet and plentiful over Brom’s fingers. His channel convulsed around Brom’s cock, so tight it would have hurt if it hadn’t felt so damned good. John cried out so loudly that they would have been in danger of being heard and discovered if they’d been anywhere besides the remote field they’d chosen. God, it had been so long since Brom had caused a man to lose himself, so far gone with pleasure that he was incapable of worrying who might hear. He and Henry had sneaked as far away from the army camp as they’d dared for their trysts, knowing how difficult it was to be silent when they were together.

Henry. The smell of gunpowder singed Brom’s nostrils, mixed with the phantom aroma of scorched coffee, strong and bitter. His stomach clenched, balling up inside him.
Christ. Fuck. No. No.
His own voice echoed inside his mind, a mantra of desperation and disbelief so loud it drowned out even John’s moans. He felt himself slipping inside, into the memory. The ground was bloody beneath his knees, his hands wet with all the things that should have been inside Henry, not spattered and spilled everywhere like red paint.
 

Christ. Fuck. No. No.
He tried to pull himself out of the recollection and focused instead on the sensations exploding below his waist, where his balls were tight and his cock was slamming into mind-numbing heat, pushing him over the edge. But he couldn’t ignore the blood on his hands. It was wet, warm and dripping from his fingers in incomprehensible quantities.
“Fuck. Henry.” He lost himself in a frenzy that was more desperation than pleasure, and released a ragged sigh.

A lark chirped, bringing Brom out of the haze and into sudden awareness of his surroundings. With horror, he realized that John lay beneath him, belly and face down against the earth. When had that happened – when had he fallen from his hands and knees? He didn’t recall the transition, which, judging by the way John was breathing – fast and hard, as if he couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs – had been rough.

 
Beneath Brom, John was tense and hard and not at all like the warm, receptive, moaning-with-pleasure man of moments before. Brom withdrew from the slick embrace of John’s channel and lifted himself off of him, collapsing in the grass at his side. His hand was wet – with John’s seed, not with blood. He wiped his palm slowly on the grass, resisting the urge to scrub it against the rough stalks, trying to rid it of bone fragments that weren’t there.