The Square Peg (18 page)

spoken aloud, never even let himself think, and Benedict was drawing them out of him,

freeing the tangle of fantasies and yearnings from the darkness inside Shane’s head.

“Play with me. Use me. Just don’t make me wait much longer. Please.”

Benedict’s eyes were suspiciously wet. He knelt on the floor beside Shane and

gathered him close, kissing him hard enough it hurt. And oh, it was the best kind of

hurt, sharp and threaded through with heat. It made Shane want to crawl into

Benedict’s lap, inside his shirt, until they were barely two separate people anymore.

“Get on the bed,” Benedict said softly. “Lie on your stomach.”

It felt good to have his insistent cock trapped between his belly and the mattress,

but Shane couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see what Benedict was doing.

Benedict was already almost undressed, his clothes falling onto the floor to join Shane’s

in what had to be a hopeless tangle. Shane didn’t care.

“Put your head down.”

Shane obeyed, closing his eyes. The thrum of noise from the bar downstairs was

steady, the heartbeat of the building. He was so used to it that he could fall asleep to it

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when he needed to. He spared a brief thought for what it must sound like to Benedict,

to wonder if it was distracting or irritating. Then Benedict’s hand touched the back of

his calf, and he forgot to think about anything else.

Benedict ghosted his hand along Shane’s leg, into the sensitive, almost ticklish

hollow behind his knee, then ruffled the hair on his thigh. It gave Shane goose bumps.

Benedict’s fingertips traced the curve of his arse and the seam between his buttocks

before Benedict’s palm came to rest on one cheek, cupping it. “You have a great ass,”

Benedict said, and he squeezed it. “I can’t wait to fuck it. Haven’t been able to stop

thinking about what you felt like before.”

Involuntarily, not sure what he was looking for, Shane started to lift his head.

“No,” Benedict said sharply and slapped Shane’s arse. The blow wasn’t painful,

but it was surprising enough it made Shane gasp. “Don’t move.”

Shane relaxed as he felt Benedict move away. He heard the sounds of drawers

opening as Benedict no doubt found his collection of lube and condoms. He knew he

would have let Benedict fuck him without a condom right then, with no discussion, but

maybe that was a safe thought precisely because he also knew Benedict wouldn’t do it.

Benedict’s weight settled on the mattress again, and a moment later there was the

drizzle of lube dropping slickly into the space where Shane’s thighs met.

“Don’t move,” Benedict told him again, but there was a playfulness to it, as if

Benedict knew damn well what was coming would make Shane wriggle and squirm

and was daring him to hold still.

The lube itself was cool enough to make him shiver, the liquid finding its way

deep into his crack and down to coat his balls. The sheets were definitely going to need

washing after this. Then coolness became a rising heat, and he yelped, recognizing the

sensation. “Bugger! You used the fucking fancy stuff.”

“It’s your lube,” Benedict pointed out. “If you choose to spend your hard-earned

money on the kind that, let me see,
Heats up on contact for that extra-spicy dash of sizzle
,

then who am I to judge?”

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“I only used a bit of it once, once, not the whole fucking bottle!” He didn’t know

what was in the stuff, but it reacted strongly with his skin, the mild warmth the bottle

promised turning out to be more like the blazing heat of the noonday sun. He’d still

come and enjoyed it, with no aftereffects, but it’d been on the intense side.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty left, don’t worry. Do you jerk off with it, Shane? Use it on

your cock or your nipples, or that dildo I saw at the back of the drawer? It says it’s safe

with a condom, so I can certainly make sure it gets in all the right places.”

“What part of ‘used it once’ didn’t you get? If you dare fuck me with it—”

Benedict dropped down onto Shane’s back, his cock riding the crease of Shane’s

arse, his hands tight around Shane’s wrists. “
If I dare
?” Benedict repeated. “I don’t need

to dare. If I want to, I’ll do it.”

He kissed the back of Shane’s neck, a light brush of his lips even as his fingers

tightened their grip, dragging Shane’s hands up until they were level with the pillow.

“And I want to, so roll over.”

Shane wanted to protest, but his cock was hard as hell, and his balls were starting

to ache with delayed orgasm. Just a hint of it, nothing like it would be in an hour if he

didn’t come, but he wanted to come. He wanted to come even if it meant heated lube

pushed inside his hole. He rolled over.

Immediately, Benedict’s hand closed around his cock. Shane groaned as Benedict

stroked him slowly, Benedict’s hand slick and warm and coaxing. For a man who didn’t

have a foreskin himself, Benedict knew just what he was doing, how to work the looser

skin over the ridge and sensitive head.

“It’s hot,” Shane murmured. He lifted his hips, rocking into Benedict’s grip.

“Fucking Christ.”

“Could you come like this? Right now?” Benedict asked.

“Yeah.” Shane’s heart stuttered in his chest, beating faster.

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Benedict’s hand slid down to the base of Shane’s cock and gripped it hard.

“Don’t.”

Shane groaned in frustration. “You’re a bastard. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Actually, no.” Benedict let go and sat back on his heels, then rolled on a condom.

His fingers, still slick, probed for Shane’s opening. He pushed one finger inside Shane’s

arse, deep, finding Shane’s prostate and pressing on it firmly. “You might be the only

one. I think I like it that way.”

“You’re only going to be a bastard to me?”

“Not that,” Benedict said. He spread Shane’s legs wide and lined the tip of his

cock up, teasing Shane with it. “I think I’ll only fuck you. Just you.”

For a moment, Shane felt tied down, trapped, but it was a knee-jerk reaction to the

thought of being in the kind of relationship where a little bit on the side was a betrayal,

not a bonus. On its heels came a warmth that had nothing to do with the liberal

application of liquid fire to his groin. The idea of being all Benedict wanted or needed

was a pleasantly satisfying one. He smiled up at Benedict. “Yeah? And what about me?

Do I get to fuck—”

“Me?” Benedict paused, the head of his cock barely lodged inside Shane’s hole,

earning himself even more points on the Benedict’s-a-bastard scale. Shane was sweating

now, squirming against the sheets, the burn and glow close to unbearable. He

wondered what it would feel like to have it spread over every inch of his arse—then

have that arse spanked. The single slap Benedict had given him had been on dry skin,

so he couldn’t begin to guess what it would feel like. “On my terms, maybe. We’ll see.

Someone else?”

Benedict leaned down and bit Shane’s nipple, hard enough the pain became his

world, filling him, owning him. He rode it, a strangled cry tearing at his throat, on the

verge of a climax he’d been forbidden.

“What do you think?” Benedict asked and pinched the nipple he’d bitten. “You

know, you should get this pierced.”

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Jesus, it was like dating Jekyll and Hyde. The Benedict who’d bid on the furniture,

the nicely dressed businessman with the polite smile had vanished. Shane dragged in

some air, his vision reduced to darkness and sparkles, and rubbed the side of his knee

against Benedict’s hip.

“I think you’re not just a bastard. You’re a sadistic, possessive bastard.”

Benedict worked his cock farther inside Shane and started to fuck him slowly, his

thrusts shallow. “Is that a problem? A deal breaker?”

“Not if you’ll do this.” Shane didn’t want to look away from Benedict’s face. A

curly lock of his dark hair had fallen forward, and the itch in Shane’s hand to brush it

back was as mind-boggling as any of the other things that had happened in the past

hour.

“Do what? Fuck you?” Benedict paused, then drove forward deeply.

“God! Yes. Yes, fuck me. Just me, like this. Don’t stop.” Shane hardly knew what

he was saying and was bloody sure he didn’t care.

“I’m not going to stop.” Another strong thrust; Shane could feel the friction burn

of the sheet beneath his arse as he slid an inch toward the headboard. “You didn’t

answer my question.”

Shane could barely remember his name at that point, with Benedict’s cock

stretching him open, filling him up. “What question?”

Benedict stopped moving, deep inside him, and leaned down to bite Shane’s

nipple again. This time it really hurt, as much as if his teeth had drawn blood. Shane’s

cock, trapped between them, throbbed. “Is it a deal breaker,” he repeated, “that I don’t

want you fucking anyone else?”

Oh. “No,” Shane gasped. “Not…Christ, please move. I won’t fuck around.” He

lifted his hips as best he could with Benedict’s weight pressing down on him. If

Benedict wouldn’t fuck him, he’d bloody well fuck himself on Benedict.

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“When you get desperate like this, I want to…” Benedict shook his head, that lock

of hair falling into a new place. Shane still wanted to touch it. He gave in, reaching up to

brush his fingers over it, willing Benedict not to flinch or forbid it. Instead, Benedict

turned his head and kissed the inside of Shane’s wrist. “I want to make you beg,” he

whispered. “Drive you out of your fucking mind.”

“You’re doing that now,” Shane told him, his voice hoarse, shaking, as he ran his

hands down Benedict’s back to cup his arse. He was careful not to urge Benedict

forward. The mood Benedict was in, he might pull out altogether, and Shane would die,

plain and simple, burn up from the inside out, consumed by desire. “Anything you

want. Ink your name on me. Pierce me. Collar me. Anything. Just fuck me now.”

He meant it as he said it, but how much of this would carry over to the real world,

when they were dressed, cocks soft, squabbling over spreadsheets and profit margins?

He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t planning to stop to ask. It didn’t matter, not when his

words had made Benedict’s face light up like that.

Benedict shifted back, and Shane whined in protest, but Benedict was just

changing their position, getting up onto his knees and lifting Shane by the hips. It was

the perfect way to be fucked—Shane let his knees fall apart, gravity stretching him open

so Benedict could drive into him.

Shane’s body was already coiling in anticipation of release. He could feel his

muscles contract, gripping Benedict’s cock.

“No,” Benedict gasped—he must have felt it too—and grabbed on to the base of

Shane’s dick again, squeezing. “Not until I do. Just a little longer.”

“Fuck. Can’t.”

“You have to.” How Benedict was able to put that edge of steel into his voice

while fucking Shane was a mystery. There was sweat beaded on his upper lip and a

determined set to his jaw.

“Then come, damn you!” He was feverish with want, the lube no longer a factor,

its effect fading against the true burn of getting fucked with ruthless, hammering

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strokes. This might not last as long as Benedict had promised, but the fucked-raw part

was already true.

And Shane loved it. He spread his knees wider, shameless, wanton, panting out

Benedict’s name between curses and pleas, meeting each thrust eagerly. He glanced

down at his cock, bobbing and jerking, rigid to the point where it felt as if it would

crack like ice if it was struck.

He’d never been fucked so comprehensively, to the point where he couldn’t focus

on anything but the man taking him. Benedict was pounding into him, his hands on

Shane’s knees, forcing them wider still, his face contorted, his teeth gritted. The sounds

that escaped him began to match Shane’s, hoarse, sobbing gasps, Benedict’s control

shredding.

“You feel so fucking good, so hot… Shane—” Benedict froze, then surged forward,

unbelievably speeding up for a final few strokes as he came, the angle perfect, sending a

message to Shane’s balls that came close to overriding Benedict’s command to wait.

Shane grabbed Benedict’s hand and dragged it down to touch his cock. He wanted

Benedict to feel him come, to make him come. He pressed Benedict’s palm against the

straining length of his cock and held it there, grinding against it, wild with need.

“Do it,” Benedict gasped. “Now.” His fingers closing around the upper half of

Shane’s cock felt clumsy, uncoordinated, and that made it better. Everything was hot,