Chapter Six #3
Ix rolled them so that Eric was flat on his back, the bulk of Ix’s body between his legs.
Ix’s hands trailed down Eric’s chest, his thumbs circling Eric’s nipples when he found them through the shirt before he lowered his head and sucked on a nipple right through the fabric.
Eric cried out, arching up into it, the friction of the cloth and the heat of Ix’s mouth a heady combination.
Ix was in no rush. He played with Eric’s nipples, moving back and forth between them.
Whichever one wasn’t in his mouth, he pinched between his fingers, until the pain and the pleasure was so intertwined Eric could scarcely tell the difference.
By the time Ix finally, finally, kissed his way down Eric’s stomach, Eric’s cock was so hard that it sprang free the moment Ix pulled his underclothes down.
The heat of Ix’s mouth around his cock made Eric gasp. It had been a while since he’d been with anyone else, he’d almost forgotten what this felt like. Ix stayed at the tip, a gentle pressure that was infuriating. So good and yet not enough.
“Ix, please,” said Eric, his hips thrusting up in a plea for more, his hands going down to grip Ix’s shoulders.
“We can’t have this.” Ix pulled up, getting off the sofa. What? Eric instinctively started to sit up but Ix placed a hand on his chest, pressing him back down. “Stay.”
Something in his tone made Eric freeze, the frisson of that growl making him shiver.
He lay back against the sofa, his nipples and his cock, both red and hard, obscenely exposed to the air.
Ix walked out of sight; Eric wanted to turn to see but made himself stay still.
The anticipation, the uncertainty, gave him a lurch in his stomach he didn’t know how to describe.
Ix reappeared with some rope. “I think you’ll find that you don’t get to make demands.”
I wasn’t. The words of protests died on Eric’s lips as Ix wound the rope around his wrists. Eric watched in a half-daze as Ix jerked one length of rope tight, yanking his wrists together and sending a jolt of heat through his body. Eric’s cock twitched in response.
Ix hauled him upright by the rope. Stumbling over his breeches and pants caught around his ankles, Eric kicked them off unceremoniously, staggering across the room as Ix led him to the desk.
Ix pressed him face down on the desk, securing the rope to the desk so his arms were stretched over his head and then circled out of Eric’s sight.
Eric felt Ix pull his legs further apart, using the other ropes to tie his ankles to opposite desk legs and hissed as his still sensitive nipples rubbed against the cold polished wood.
He tugged his hands experimentally. There was no give, the rope was too tight and the desk too heavy.
He didn’t have any time to try anything else before Ix hit him, an open-handed blow against the meat of his left asscheek.
“Fuck!” Eric gasped as pain flared through his body.
Ix did it again, this time the right asscheek. Eric’s body automatically tried to pull away, but he was caught.
“Look at this,” crooned Ix, reaching under to cradle Eric’s cock. It was so hard that it hurt and even the light pressure of Ix’s fingers grazing felt like fire against his skin. “You could come untouched at this rate.”
“I won’t,” panted Eric, just to be contrary.
“Is that so.” Ix hummed ominously and let go.
His hand pressed down heavy on Eric’s lower back, keeping him still.
Eric tried to brace himself for impact but it didn’t work.
Ix hit him again, heavier than the first time, faster as he built up pace.
Eric lost count as Ix spanked him, each blow sending him further into a haze.
Eric could only feel each blow, the impact of Ix’s hand against his ass, the snap as his hip hit the edge of the desk, the sharp yank at his wrists and his ankles, the desperate gasp for air as Ix’s other hand pressed down, forcing the air from his lungs.
And the whole time, the swelling wet ache of humiliation that swamped his entire body, feeding the aching bob of his untouched cock.
“Shh, quiet,” said Ix, his breath a tickle against Eric’s ear that made him whimper. It wasn’t until then that Eric realized he’d been moaning open-mouthed with each blow the whole time, louder and louder until he was shouting.
He tried. He could feel the drool gathering in his mouth but it was as if each blow forced the sound out of him.
“Are you disobeying your prince?” asked Ix softly, dangerously.
He didn’t give Eric a chance to answer, not that Eric could have, before raking his fingernails down the length of Eric’s back, the lines of pain a sharp contrast to the smarting ache of his ass.
Eric screamed, his entire body spasming and arching as much as the rope would allow him to.
He couldn’t help it; he came. He felt the release in his gut, a sudden spurt and then another, his hips stuttering as he desperately craved some friction and found none.
Ix just let him, left him writhing on the desk.
Eric wasn’t sure how long it took for him to calm, his breath shaky as he came back to himself. He fought to get himself under control, swallowing down the involuntary whimpers and muffling himself against the desk.
Ix reached out, smoothed the sweat-dampened curls out of Eric’s face. And then he grabbed Eric’s hips, repositioned him back in place face down on the desk.
“Ix,” begged Eric, and didn’t even know what he was begging for.
Ix walked around the desk, kicking the chair out of the way, so Eric could see him if he rolled his eyes up.
At some point, he’d taken his own clothes off.
Eric hadn’t even noticed it happening. His dark body hair gathered into a trail that led down to his groin, framing his cock.
His eyes fixed on Ix’s cock, thick and curved slightly to one side, gloriously erect and so close to Eric’s face. Even knowing now it wasn’t Ix’s usual, it made Eric’s mouth water. He pressed forward onto his toes but couldn’t get any closer and whined.
“So eager,” growled Ix, pressing Eric’s mouth open with his thumb. Eric sucked on it desperately, as Ix stroked himself right in front of Eric’s face, goading him.
“Please,” murmured Eric around Ix’s thumb. “Please, let me suck you.”
“No,” said Ix, and the denial sent a hopeless course of desperation through Eric. “But. I’ll use your wet mouth if you stop talking.”
Eric stopped talking.
Ix laughed. He pulled his thumb out and pressed his tip against Eric’s lips, slowly sliding himself in. He savored the glide of Ix’s cock against his cheek, the weight of it in his mouth and the salt of it on his tongue as Ix rocked back and forth, gently at first and then picking up speed.
When Eric had imagined this, perhaps he’d imagined himself more experienced.
But the way Ix fisted his hand tightly in Eric’s hair, holding him and using him…
he could have never imagined it like this.
He felt his mouth water when Ix thrust so deep Eric almost choked before pulling out and that wet, desperate keening noise was coming from him.
He gasped for breath in the briefest of moments when Ix allowed him to, desperate both for air and for Ix to fill him up again immediately.
All of it ignited something low in Eric’s belly, primal instinct he hadn’t even known he would enjoy.
Suddenly, Ix slowed right down; Eric whined, but Ix didn’t pick back up again.
Instead, he pressed his cock in achingly slowly, forcing his length down as Eric felt his throat muscles convulse and tears prickle in the corner of his eyes.
He felt Ix’s other hand wrap around the outside of his throat, not quite squeezing but heavy, the combined pressure from outside and inside overwhelming.
“It’s a shame, isn’t it? That you can only fit half my cock. I suppose you’ll need much more practice,” said Ix from somewhere above Eric’s head. His tone was derisive, patronizing.
Eric lost his mind.
Whether it was a course of rage and competitiveness or whether it was the way Ix’s hand on his throat made his bones melt or that he’d been gasping for air, he didn’t know.
He felt as though he’d been struck by lightning, arching his back as pleasure coursed through his body from just that small touch.
Eric saw Ix’s face, surprised but delighted, for just a moment before he felt a hot gush on his face.
Ix, he thought wildly. He might have said it aloud too, he couldn’t tell.
Eric moaned again, open-mouthed and incoherent; Ix got the hint, slid his cock into Eric’s waiting mouth.
He worked his aching throat, swallowing down Ix’s pleasure like a dying man desperate for water.
He whined when Ix pulled away again and suddenly his vision – still blurry – was filled with Ix’s amused face. “Enough. I’m done. You’re done.”
At some point, Ix must have untied him, rolled him over, and wiped his face clean but Eric barely recalled it.
He exhaled, slumping forward as Ix pulled him to the edge of the desk so Eric could brace his forehead against Ix’s shoulder.
Somehow, out of everything they’d just done, Ix using his arm around Eric’s waist to tuck him against Ix’s side felt the most intimate.
Eric found himself blushing uncontrollably, his cheek hot against Ix’s skin.
“I hope–” Eric’s voice came out like gravel, a reminder of how vocal he had been just now. He stopped to clear his throat. “I hope you don’t treat all your encounters like that.”
“I imagine my reputation would be very different if I did,” said Ix with a huff.
That was true. Eric had to mull it over.
Ix’s reputation came swathed in scandal, but of the most delightfully gossipworthy sort rather than the malicious or dangerous kind.
Eric had heard talk of him being with men and women both.
Sometimes, people would mention names to him in the hopes that Eric might confirm them as a close confidant of the prince.
Eric never did, even though he’d often enough seen the evidence with his own eyes in the mornings.
Normally, rumors about sleeping with women would be bad enough, whereas rumors about sleeping with men would ruin a noble’s reputation.
But when it came to Ix, people seemed to look the other way when it came to the men.
‘If he was going to be a philandering degenerate of a rake, at least he could ensure there were no illegitimate demonic spawn’ seemed to be a common take.
And in none of these rumors had Eric ever heard whisper that he was a violent or cruel lover.
He craned his head around to peer at the long scratches down his back and buttocks, visible even against the blotched red of his ass.
The sight of his made him shiver. If Ix had his usual hands, the scratches would have been even worse.
“So it’s just me you mistreat then,” said Eric.
“Did you not enjoy yourself?” Ix cupped a hand around Eric’s ass and squeezed once, hard.
Eric hissed, the pain sending a hot flush to the base of his gut. He pressed his forehead against Ix’s shoulder. He couldn’t meet Ix’s eyes right now, too embarrassed at how much it affected him.
“Earl Marrawshire, your prince asked you a question,” said Ix with a drawl, squeezing Eric’s other buttock even harder than the first. His arm around Eric’s back kept in place as Eric gasped and bucked in pain.
“Fuck! Fuck, Ix. Yes! Is that what you want to hear? Yes, I enjoyed it!” He was shaking, caught somewhere between mortification and arousal, rubbing his soft cock against Ix’s hip uncontrollably.
It was too much. Not just the sex, but that it was Ix.
He’d never done this with someone else before, not with the engagement to Lydia hanging over his head.
It would have been unfair to her. And if he had slunk off to establishments that catered to this kind of entertainment and watched, just watched – well, even that had not happened for a while.
And Ix had somehow known and given this to him without him asking for it. Eric had suppressed not just this but all of his thoughts about Ix for so long. He didn’t know how to deal with it all.
“If you keep doing that, I shall have to fuck you again,” said Ix, idly brushing his fingertips against Eric’s sensitive asshole. Gods, that really was too much.
Eric breathed, made himself still with some effort until he was collapsed fully on Ix. His body was so tempted but he didn’t think he’d survive another round of that right now. His words came out muffled from being mashed against Ix’s skin. “How are you so coherent? You’re meant to be the invalid.”
“I have better stamina than you.”
Eric didn’t have enough energy to punch him, so he just groaned. “Urgh, didn’t anyone tell you that gloating is uncouth?”
“You have,” Ix pointed out. “Many times, over the years. Mayhaps you’re an inadequate teacher.”
For some reason, this calmed Eric down. This felt familiar at least. Their back and forth, as cutting with words as with their swords. He breathed in the smell of Ix and sweat, let himself relax a little. Ix noticed too, his hand carding softly through the tufty curls at the base of Eric’s head.
“How did you know? About the whole…” Eric waved his hand vaguely, hoping that Ix would understand without him having to find the words.
“About your depraved preference for being mauled in bed?” Ix pulled back just enough to make sure Eric could see his amusement.
Eric wasn’t sure what expression was on his face, but Ix being able to see him at all felt like a particular form of torture.
“Eric, please. You’re the only person who enjoys getting stabbed in a duel. ”
“I do not!” Eric said instinctively. “No one likes getting stabbed, that would be ridiculous. It’s only that if it does happen, it’s usually near the end of a bout when I’ve tried my best. The wound is like… proof of my effort.”
That did sound stupid now he’d said it aloud. There was just something satisfying about the pain as a release after being pent up for a long time and – oh. That was what Ix meant.
“Well,” mumbled Eric, and then gave up. Ix could win this round.