Silas stroked one lotion-covered hand over Darien’s cock, then let go before Darien could really get into it. “Turn over.”
“Don’t want to get the sheets dirty.”
“This stuff’s soaking into your skin really well. You should be fine.”
Darien rolled over.
“Good boy.”
“Yeah? Well, you just keep going and we’ll see how good I manage to be.” He was relaxing, mellowing, melting into a puddle of goo, and if Silas wanted to call him boy in bed, he wasn’t going to fight it tonight. In fact… he raised his ass and arched his back. “You’re still missing parts of me.”
“Am I?”
“Vital bits.” He tried for a seductive swivel of his hips, which probably looked more drunken, but at least no longer hurt. “You might have to get that stuff smeared inside and out.”
Silas’s fingers paused on his ass. “Inside?”
They’d done a lot of things together in bed, but so far, Silas hadn’t made any move to switch this up. They both liked using the sanctuary of this room in familiar ways— making it a place where Silas could be on his knees, and Darien could indulge the urge to command all that austere power with his hands and mouth and voice and cock. But tonight, Silas had been shaken.
Oh, he’d covered it well. But revealing what his master had done, and failed to do, hadn’t been as easy as Silas had made it sound. Darien had heard the echoes of doubt and regret and fear, no matter how practical and mutual Silas suggested that transfer spell was. The bleak look in his eyes had made Darien shudder in empathy, and he’d been hard pressed to say nothing and let Silas pretend it was no big deal. Maybe Darien could give him this— a chance at control— to settle that cold pit-of-the-stomach memory of being taken and owned by mentors he’d trusted, of being used and lied to.
Tonight, maybe Silas needed to be in command, in control, and taking, not taken.
So Darien said, “Yeah, I gotta admit, I’m really curious what that lotion feels like in place of Vaseline. And I’m far too lazy to make much of an effort.”
“Ah, trying to shirk doing the work.” Silas hadn’t resumed his rubbing and a shake in his voice was hard to interpret. Interest? Problem?
“Your choice, of course. My mouth is still on the table.”
“Given that you’re lying on the bed, that would make your neck rather long.”
Darien kicked blindly in his direction. “Quit being so literal.”
Silas’s hands resumed rubbing across Darien’s butt cheeks, but moved on up his spine without pausing. Darien relaxed back down on the bed and let himself enjoy the sensations. His offer was made. Next move was Silas’s. Silas continued up to massage Darien’s neck. Yeah, I totally approve that move.
The next time Darien heard the glorp of ointment, there was a pause, and then Silas’s touch ghosted over Darien’s hole. “Yeah,” Darien murmured, trying for low and sexy. “Give it a go.”
Silas froze, then resumed circles, little soft brushes that tickled more than they aroused. Darien bit his lip and didn’t comment. He’d save the backseat driving for when it was needed. Although— Aargh, if he doesn’t put a little more pressure into it that may be sooner, not later. Darien bucked his ass up, trying to get more contact. Silas’s finger dipped into him a fraction and Darien let out a long moan as encouragement.
“Ah. All right.” Silas eased a slick finger into him as Darien tried to relax and welcome the pressure. It’d been a while, but he didn’t have any hang-ups about it, and he moaned again as Silas found the right spot to make sparks leap through him. Absently, Darien wondered what would happen if you put a finger on someone’s prostate and then let a bit of power flow—
Silas pressed deeper inside him and the jolt of pleasure knocked any arcane thoughts out of Darien’s head. “Oh, yeah, more like that.”
The lotion seemed to be doing a good job. Silas got what felt like two fingers in with ease, and the stretchy, spreading, welcome burn reminded Darien why he was sometimes happy to be the one flat on the sheets. “Anytime,” he encouraged, although he probably needed a bit more preparation to be comfortable.
“Eventually.”
“You’re a meanie.”
Silas’s chuckle sounded wonderfully relaxed, the tension of all that mess downstairs gone from his voice. Darien pushed the thought of that away to focus on sensations. Pleasure given, pleasure received. Silas’s touch wasn’t particularly expert, but it was Silas opening him up for his cock, and that was enough to make Darien shiver and laugh.
“What?” Silas paused.
“Nothing. Happy. Keep going.”
Silas went back to sliding his fingers in and out, adding another squirt of lotion. Darien pulled his knees higher under him and widened his thighs in silent encouragement. The stretch got bigger but not like dick. Another finger. “I’m ready. Really— ah— ready.”
He expected Silas to ask again, but the next sensation was different, as Silas’s weight shifted over him. Hell, yeah. His moan and Silas’s echoed together. His ass resisted for a moment, the pressure tight and achy like a hamstring stretch. Gonna be so good. He breathed out long and slow, and pushed into the resistance. Silas slid into him, blunt and wide and hard and perfect, and began a slow rhythm, each little motion working deeper, Darien’s body accepting Silas there, inside him, as need built. Deeper. More. He clutched the sheets and rubbed his erection against them, arching on the back-stroke to drive Silas deeper. Silas grunted and gripped Darien’s hips.
“I won’t break,” Darien said. “You can go.”
“Maybe I want to make you wait.” The words were an echo of something Darien had said, more than once. The taut breathlessness of the tone wasn’t.
“Do you?”
“No.” Silas dragged Darien’s ass higher and thrust deep.
The grunt and slap of skin on skin sent Darien spiraling, climbing, heat and burn making his vision darken. He wanted to encourage Silas but couldn’t get out more than breathy moans and gasps. Silas drove into him again and again, fast and hard. Darien gave himself over to being fucked, to the stretch and need and the way Silas filled him. He closed his eyes and let his mouth drop open and dragged in air. Yes. Yes. God. There. Ah.
The drag and rub inside him was almost enough, but not quite. The tug and brush of tangled sheets underneath him kept him hard but couldn’t tip him over. He writhed his hips against the clamp of Silas’s fingers. “I need…”
Silas tugged his ass higher, changing the angle, and reached under him with one long-fingered hand. The first touch on Darien’s dick sent a jolt right through him. Then Silas’s fingers closed around him in a tight grip, rough and slick, and Darien shouted as his climax crashed over him. Pleasure rode him, through his ass and balls and dick in a release that shook every muscle in his body. Dimly, he was aware of Silas fucking him through it.
Darien landed limp and breathless, flat on his face. Silas’s weight pinned him to the bed. Silas’s cock was still hard, but he lay as still as Darien, his breath hot on Darien’s neck.
“Go on,” Darien said when he could form actual words. “You finish too.” He could barely feel his ass and if he was going to be sore later, it was soooo worth it now.