“When you say a long time…?” David asked.
“Seven years.” Richard saw the red brow tilt and turned up his palm. “Two since I have had anyone at all. I don’t, can’t bed men for whom I don’t care. I dare say that’s unusual, but honestly, I feel I have deprived myself of nothing but the pox—oh, God damn it.” He could have kicked himself for saying such a thing to David. “I beg your pardon.”
David’s fingers had stopped briefly, but now they moved again. “I cannot be too sensitive on the subject. It is how it is. And I don’t want the pox either, truth be told.”
“It wasn’t that, really. My brother says I am sentimental, and perhaps I am, but I simply cannot find joy in rutting for its own sake.”
“I used to,” David said. “And then I entered your service, and even that was taken away from me, because every time I fucked, it was not you.”
“It is now,” Richard said, and saw the smile in David’s eyes. Richard allowed himself to be pushed onto his back, and David climbed over his body, settling between his parted thighs with an intent look that made Richard shiver.
“Let me make it you.” David’s fingers were rubbing and pressing between Richard’s legs in intimate touches, slithery with oil. “Can you tense yourself for a few seconds?” Richard did as bid and, as he relaxed, felt David’s finger sliding in without resistance.
“Clever,” he said breathlessly.
“The muscle can only stay tight for a little while, then it can’t help loosening. It’s a—an old trick.”
A whore’s trick, Richard would have wagered he’d meant to say. It didn’t matter with David gently working him, dipping his mouth to Richard’s prick, rolling his balls, creating a blinding flood of sensation. David served him and commanded him at once, and Richard surrendered to his ministry, gasping out his praise and pleasure and then, urgently, his need. “Please. Now.”
“At your pleasure. Tense up for me now. Or—are you happy like that, on your back?”
“Extremely,” Richard assured him, and they were both smiling as David pushed into him. Between the muscle trick and the oil, it barely stung, and that proof of David’s care brought a painful tightness to Richard’s throat. “God, that’s good.”
“I told you.” There was something disturbingly intent in David’s eyes, something hungry. “I told you I’d make it good.” His fingers closed on Richard’s shoulders, digging in, still slippery with oil. “I want to make you remember me.”
As if he’d ever forget. David’s smell; his hair, loose strands lit to wild vividness by the firelight that shone through it; his eyes, fixed on Richard’s as though to look away would be to end the dream; his body, taut with urgency, muscle and bone and sinew picked out by shadows. The feel of his back, smooth under Richard’s clutching hands. And the way he fucked, with a careful, controlled precision to the movement of his hips while his betraying fingers dug desperately into Richard’s skin.
“More. I won’t break.” Richard curled upward, angling his neck so he could reach David’s mouth. It was an awkward position, but David’s hand was supporting his skull, the other on the floor bracing them both. David thrust with an upward motion, and Richard felt the internal pressure send pleasure jolting through his nerves. He made a muffled noise into David’s mouth, and the lips on his pulled away.
“I want to hear you,” David rasped, and plunged down to press his sharp teeth where Richard’s neck met his shoulder. An actual bite, a sharp pulse of pain, and David was moving harder and faster now, over and in him, so that Richard felt absurdly cradled.
“Christ. David, my fox, my flame. Please.” He didn’t even know what he wanted except more of this, more of David, more of them together with no barrier between them but skin.
David bit again, then pushed himself up so he could get a hand to Richard’s prick. “I want to see your face. I want to see you spend. Make you. I want…” He was moving carefully again, playing Richard’s body, and Richard stared into his brown eyes and groaned his pleasure, feeling David shift and respond as though his only goal in life was Richard’s joy.
He had no idea if he was being served or mastered now. Both, or neither, it didn’t matter. His red fox was in his arms and between his legs, where he belonged, and Richard gave himself up to the mounting sensation of David inside and over and around him, stroking and fucking and kissing at once until Richard could no longer hold back the pleasure. He arched so hard he lifted David off the floor with the movement as he spent against David’s belly. David hissed through bared teeth and shoved him back down, thrusting with a clumsy urgency that suggested he’d finally run out of control, and the raw need in his face triggered a final unexpected pulse of climax in Richard that almost hurt. He took a brutal grip on David’s arse, urging him on, and watched his face distort with what could have been pleasure or agony as he cried out.