Strongman (15 page)

He peered at the grazes on Griff’s shoulder blade.

Griff huffed with laughter. “That was the tree, remember?”

Fort drifted a finger down to the bruises flowering on Griff’s hip, his thigh. “I hurt you.”

“And I hurt you.” The tumbler raised his head and grinned. “I hope.” The grin faded and he rolled over, a little awkward because of his bound hands, muscles sliding beautifully under his skin. His cock bounced against his ridged belly, proud and rosy.

“Fort, I’m fucking dying here.
What are you going to do
?”

Fort’s throat had turned to sand. “We said…” he wet his lips, wishing desperately for a drink, Aetherian brandy for preference, “winner takes all.”

“Yes.” Griff sat up and leaned his shoulder into Fort’s. His hair brushed the big man’s cheek, catching on the stubble. “There’s no one to see or hear,” he said in a ragged whisper, “only the two of us. You won. I’m yours. For whatever you want.”

Fort couldn’t think, couldn’t get past the tangle in his stupid head. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands steady either. What if a Hssrda patrol had taken him, taken Griff—? The thought stalled because he literally couldn’t bear to complete it. And he would never have— Would never have known what it was to possess him utterly, to take all that he offered.

Fuck the Ecclesiastical Court. If this was Crookedness, too fucking bad. He didn’t give a shit anymore, not from the moment he’d looked into that empty tent and his guts had turned over. Fort cleared his throat. “All,” he said hoarsely. “I want it all.”

Griff sagged against him. “Traveler be praised.” He rubbed his cheek against Fort’s shoulder. Fort turned, burying his hands in the other man’s hair, pulling his head up so he could sink into his mouth and ravage. Gods, he’d missed him! Missed him so much that having him again was a sweet ache, an agonizing pleasure.

Continuous growls rumbled in Fort’s chest until he became so breathless, so absorbed in the heat, the wicked duel of tongues, that the sounds died away to ragged gasps. Gradually, he pressed the other man back down to the cool grass.

Griff’s cock burned against his belly and Fort reached down for the hard, hot satin of it, his hand so big he could almost envelop it completely. The tumbler groaned into his mouth, arching.

“Saddlebag,” he panted. “Outer pocket.”

“Not yet.” There was so much he hadn’t done, hadn’t tasted, and it lay before him, helpless and willing. He nipped his way down Griff’s throat, disciplining himself not to take great greedy bites. With an open palm, he brushed over the hair on the tumbler’s chest, the heel of his hand catching a hard nipple. When Griff gasped and swore, he swooped and took it in his mouth, savoring the leap of the other man’s heart under his 81

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cheek, the way the little disk engorged and rose under his lips. In his other hand, Griff’s shaft bucked and he squeezed it gently.
Wait
,
wait
,
I
’
m getting to you
.

And gods, Fort knew he couldn’t get any harder himself. His balls had practically crawled right up into his body, they were so swollen and tight.

Griff was writhing, pushing himself into Fort’s hand, his hips jerking with an instinctive rhythm. “C’mon, man, c’mon.
Please
.” But when Fort slid down his body to lie between his thighs, he froze, holding his breath.

Fort slipped one hand under Griff’s hips, aiming the tumbler’s cock with the other.

Without giving himself time to think, he swallowed it to the root. Griff’s helpless groan of pleasure got mixed up in his mind with the musky taste of aroused male, hard against his palate. Delicious. So addictive, he had to hear it again. And again.

He gripped Griff’s buttocks with both hands, raising him, holding him tilted at the perfect angle. He suspected he was being too rough, but he couldn’t seem to slow down, to stop. His fingers flexed, kneading warm, resilient flesh, while his lips and tongue applied hot, wet suction.

The noises Griff was making took on a complementary rhythm, getting faster and faster. “Yes! Twister, yes! Oh gods, oh fuck!” His hips bucked so hard, it became difficult to hold him still.

Fort wrenched his mouth away, his heart pounding. He raised his head and Griff’s eyes met his, glazed with lust. “Finish me,” the tumbler demanded in a grating whisper.

“Gods, don’t stop!”

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The seat of sexual pleasure is in the mind
.
This is the one incontrovertible fact no shaman or
priestess may be permitted to forget
.

Precepts of the Lady Chelisand
,
High Priestess of Lufra
.

“Yes.” Feeling dizzy, Fort lurched to his feet.
Saddlebag
,
where was the fucking
saddlebag
?

“Over there.” Griff indicated the surviving tent with his chin.

Later, Fort couldn’t remember how he got there or back. His memory picked up as he stood frozen over Griff’s beautiful aroused body, the little pot of ointment lost in his big hands.

Shit, he was going to, going to…

His father
’
s hands on his shoulders
,
forcing him to look
.

“Fort,” said Griff, glaring, “if you stop now, I swear, I will kill you.”

Fort shook his head, speechless.

One golden-brown brow arched. “Still scared, are you, strongman?”

The memory slid away, overwhelmed by the urgency of the present. “No,” growled Fort, dropping the pot. “Fuck it, Ruler, no!”

He launched himself at Griff, driving him into the ground with the weight of his body. The younger man grunted with the impact, but one knee rose high over Fort’s hip, and his mouth opened for the big man’s tongue. His pelvis rose, grinding his cock against Fort’s.

Long minutes later, Fort forced himself to pull back. He hung over Griff, braced on his hands. The tumbler smiled, showing his crooked tooth. “Do you know what to do?”

Fort grinned, wild and fierce. “I can guess.”

“But you haven’t done it before?”

“Not to a man. But oh yes,” he showed his teeth, “I like a nice tight ass.”

Griff swallowed hard, his sloe eyes brilliant with excitement. Holding Fort’s eye until the last possible second, he rolled over, his luscious ass thrust up so the taut curves were limned with sunlight, the golden down gleaming like the skin of some exotic fruit. “Use plenty of the cream,” he panted. “On both of us.”

Fort leaned down and nipped the underside of one buttock, only the years of engrained discipline enabling him to hold back. The urge to sink his teeth right into the resilient, muscular flesh was almost too much.

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Griff groaned. “Do me, man! Gods, just get on with it!”

But Fort set a hand to his shoulder, another under his thigh and heaved. Griff flipped over, his eyes opening wide with surprise.

Fort shoved his thighs open and knelt between them. “If I’m going to…” he dried up, then rallied, “fuck a man, then by all the gods, I’m going to look him in the eye while I do it.”

Grabbing the pot from a clump of daisies, he scooped up a fingerful of ointment and slathered it over Griff’s asshole, ignoring the tumbler’s gasps and curses. Then he lifted his gaze to Griff’s tormented face. Breathing heavily, he worked a broad forefinger around the puckered opening, pumping the other man’s cock with his free hand.

“Bastard!” panted Griff, his hips rising to the uncompromising caresses. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Gods, yes!” Fort inserted his finger a scant inch, feeling the dark walls of the other man’s ass grab at it.

With no little degree of surprise, he realized it was no more than the truth. He’d expected the hunger. After all, where Griff was concerned, it had been his constant companion from almost the first moment. But he’d thought the act itself would be dark and furtive, thick with shame. Instead…he flexed his shoulders and probed a little further…torturing Griff with pleasure gave him a sensation of soaring joy, a feeling that he controlled the world and everything in it.

And yet, it
was
dirty, what he was doing. Surely it was? His fingertip brushed a small swelling and Griff cried aloud, his body curving up in a beautiful bow, his shaft kicking hard under Fort’s palm.

Sweet Lufra, who cared? He’d worry about it later. Fort abandoned introspection and gave himself to the pleasures of the flesh, free as a randy boy.

He added another finger and Griff gurgled, sweat popping on his brow. “Just you wait—” His dark gaze, blazing with lust, caught Fort’s.

Fascinated, Fort massaged the small gland and watched Griff writhe, his balls jammed up hard and tight into his body, his cock jerking, shivers rippling over his muscled abdomen.

“Aaargh! Twister! Wait…wait ‘til I do that to you.”

A sizzling wave jolted from Fort’s balls to his cock. The base of his spine tingled and his head reeled.

Now. Ruler God, now! Before he died. Or worse, spurted over his belly and disgraced himself.

He smothered his rampant erection in the slippery stuff and pulled Griff’s thighs open over his. Leaning forward, he set his broad head to the dark entrance of the other man’s body and pushed.

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A moment’s resistance and the tumbler’s flesh spread to let him in. With a long groan, Fort sank into glorious gloving heat, the walls of smooth, silky muscle twitching against the sensitive skin of his shaft.

Griff bit his lip and moaned. He’d gone so pale, every freckle showed on his cheek.

Fort braced himself on his fists, holding himself motionless with a tremendous effort of will. “This is what you wanted,” he panted. “You said…my cock rammed so far up your ass you’ll think you’re going to die.”

“I know.” Griff grimaced, his breath rasping. “And you’re not even close yet. But it’s been a while.”

“Shall I stop?”

“Stop and I’ll kill you.”

“You said that before.” Fort pulled back a little.

“That’s because—fuck, slow like that, just like that—I meant it.”

Fort slid forward again and eased back. When the other man shivered beneath him, his heart leapt with savage satisfaction. “How long?” he asked, shoving a bit farther this time. Gods, the sensations were incredible!

“About…five years.” All fluid, supple strength, the tumbler lifted his hips and arranged one leg over Fort’s shoulder, then the other. The angle of the squeeze changed and Fort felt his eyes roll back in his head, brutal thrills flashing up and down his spine.

“Griff, I…have to…move.”

“Twister, yes! Fuck me.” The tumbler’s ass flexed, clamping down on him, a vise of strong, cramping muscle.

His head reeling, Fort powered into the constriction, seating himself to the balls.

Griff moaned, throwing his head back, his stiff cock jutting over his belly, the smooth rosy head shiny with juices. Unable to resist, Fort reached out and gripped it in one hand again. Griff’s mouth opened on a guttural scream, the most lascivious noise Fort had ever heard.

Fort shifted his hips, leaning right into the stroke. He set up a hard, thudding rhythm, synchronized with the beating of his heart. “Hold on,” he husked, angling so his cock head caught that small swelling on every pass, while his fingers worked the other man’s hot satiny shaft.

“Can’t… Remember?” panted Griff through clenched teeth. “Gods! Hands…tied.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got you,” growled Fort, hardly able to speak. “All of you.

Mine.”

The tumbler’s eyes flew open, locking on his. “Yes,” he whispered, though no sound came out. “Yours.” No longer pale, his neck and face glowed with a sexual flush, sweat standing on his forehead, his upper lip. His eyes never left Fort’s.

Looking down at him, at his beauty and his trust, as he allowed another man to invade his body, to perform this most intimate of acts, something huge ballooned in Fort’s chest. It hurt and it didn’t. He felt as if he were balanced over an endless drop, as 85

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if he might die at any moment. But perversely he’d never felt more alive. More connected to another human being.

I give you joy
,
child
.

Griff bucked and swore. The dark silken passage surrounding Fort convulsed.

Ruler God! He surrendered himself to sensation, drowning gladly in the dark pool of his lust. His strokes became long and hard, ramming. Imperious. Griff’s cock flexed like a bar of living, molten metal in his grasp and Fort tightened his fist.

The tumbler was crying aloud with every plunge, but Fort held nothing back, hammering the other man with his full, fat length, in and out to the hilt, his whole weight behind each stroke. And gloriously, Griff took him, took every brutal inch, lifting his hips, urging him on, cursing and swearing.

Giving him everything.

Abruptly, Griff’s shaft jerked in Fort’s grip. His spine arched until only his shoulders and the back of his skull touched the ground. His mouth opening on a soundless scream, creamy white jets spurted over his chest and stomach, trickling hot and wet over Fort’s fingers, filling his nostrils with the sharp, sweetish smell of sex.

The tumbler’s ass convulsed, closing so hard on Fort’s cock he saw stars. His balls kicked, a seething, boiling flood surging the length of his shaft, exploding, fragmenting his wits, blowing his consciousness away. Black spots danced in his vision and his heart thundered in his chest. Sweet Lufra, he was going to die, but oh gods, it was worth it, worth every moment in the grave! The offering went on and on, wringing him dry with excruciating pleasure, dying away to small shudders in his loins and tremors in his thighs.

Boneless, Fort let himself fall forward into a bottomless abyss.

Griff opened his eyes in time to see Fort’s body stiffen, his face contorting in a grimace of ecstasy. His bass roar of pleasure echoed around the hidden valley as he jammed his meaty cock even farther up Griff’s ass. As if that was possible.

Then his eyes rolled up and he fell forward, driving all the breath out of the smaller man. Twister! Griff huffed out a shaky laugh, his shoulders and wrists aching where they were pressed into the grass. Lucky he was so flexible. Wriggling, he heaved, slipping out from under the big, limp body, feeling Fort’s cock slip away, the warm wash of the other man’s seed between his buttocks, on his thighs. When Fort subsided to the grass with a grunt, Griff burrowed under his shoulder and pushed until he rolled over onto his back with a long sigh, his heavy limbs flopping, utterly relaxed.