Chapter Thirteen #2
What was this game? Jem wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. Instead, he lifted his chin. “I do.” He forced away the embarrassment, filled with the need to somehow prove Cador wrong.
If this was a game, Jem wanted to win. He would prove just how strong he was. How bold. How brave.
Cador seemed to ignore him now, but no—he was contemplating the candle that sat atop the table.
He worked it free of its iron holder, where extra wax pooled around the base.
He turned it over in his hands, examining it, running his rough fingertips up and down the length.
Jem’s bollocks tingled, lust tugging deep in his belly.
“And you’ve ‘breached’ yourself with a candle like this one? With that very candle next to you?”
Heart in his throat, Jem nodded.
“You mean you fuck yourself with it?”
Jem couldn’t stop a sharp inhale at the crude language, a bolt of desire tightening his groin, his cock leaking under the fur. He nodded again.
Cador laughed. “Are you too timid to say it?”
“No!” He gritted his teeth. “I fuck myself with it.” A thrill shivered through him. “I do. I fuck myself. I shove the candle deep inside. I was about to before you barged in.”
“As I said, don’t let me stop you, little prince.” Cador carefully replaced the candle onto the table. Was that a tremor in his hands?
Part of Jem wanted to cover himself and run to safety. Wanted to hide and bolt the door. Yet where would he go? Into the storm? And why should he run? Cador thought him so meek, and Jem had reached his limit.
What would Morvoren do?
Gripping one end of the fur, he yanked it aside. Now his entire naked body, specifically his dripping cock, was exposed. Terrified and exhilarated, he grabbed his faithful candle, fighting the urge to cover himself. He wasn’t delicate. He wasn’t!
“I’ll show you.”
He’d meant it as a battle cry. Yet his own low, hungry words uncorked a deep reserve of urgent desire that stole his breath.
Here was his fantasy made real— showing himself to another man.
Naked and aching for release. Displaying himself, letting another watch him at his most vulnerable.
Submitting although he was the one wielding the candle, the one touching himself.
There was something incredibly arousing about being watched. He felt powerful, yet eager to present himself on his hands and knees for another man. For Cador . This was truly happening, and there was no running away now. He’d explode with need. He’d die.
Cador stood watching, thick eyebrows high as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His blue eyes were dark. Hungry.
I’ll show you.
Any lingering shame was no match for the raging river of rebellious courage pulsing through Jem’s veins.
Excitement and lust and desire too long dampened had Jem oiling the candle and reaching back for his hole.
Normally, he took his time opening himself with his fingers. Now, he’d combust if he waited.
He groaned, working the hard cylinder of wax into his body. The edges at the bottom were rounded from use, and he bore down on the familiar intrusion. He closed his eyes, twisting the oiled candle slowly, leaning on his left hand on the furs, his hips tilted.
He squeezed around the wax, gasping as it pressed that secret spot inside. If he opened his eyes and he was wrong—if Cador was unmoved—it would shatter him.
The groan was so low that Jem almost missed it.
Almost.
In a wonderful rush of relief, he knew Cador was aroused.
Aroused by him. Cador did want him. Vibrating with sweet, hot anticipation, he opened his eyes to meet an icy blue gaze undeniably dark with lust. Cador licked his lips, rubbing the heel of his hand over the enormous bulge in his leather trousers.
“What does it feel like?” Cador asked, his voice a growl.
Apparently they were done with pretending. They were doing this. No more smirking. No more games.
“Full,” he answered. Spreading his knees on the furs, he sat back on his heels, exposing his whole body.
One hand behind steadied the candle inside him, while the other roamed his torso, fingers circling his nipples.
His cock was ruddy and hard, another drop of fluid hanging from the tip. But Jem didn’t touch it yet.
Over the years, he’d become adept at fucking himself on the candle, flexing his thighs to raise himself up and down, the wax hard yet warm and slick. The fullness as he squeezed around it was heaven. His eyes drifted shut on a moan, but he opened them again, watching Cador watch him.
Cador’s gaze followed Jem’s hand down to his groin, to his fingers tangling in the nest of dark hair at the base of his prick.
He reached farther to cup and roll his bollocks, little cries and sighs of pleasure escaping his parted lips.
Cador was silent, his chest heaving, his hard cock stretching leather.
Jem swiped at the fluid at the tip of his shaft, easing down the skin. He lifted his finger to his mouth to taste it.
“ Fuck ,” Cador groaned hoarsely, fumbling with his trousers to free himself. His thick, proud erection made Jem’s mouth water.
Perhaps Jem should crawl forward and beg to suck that beautiful cock. Beg to choke on it. Beg to be fucked with it, pounded hard until he was shaking, split open and filled with cum…
He cried out, twisting the candle inside him, fucking himself and desperately stroking his prick all at once, his own musk on his tongue. His eyes were locked with Cador’s. His skin was on fire. He was finally being watched, and Cador did desire him. His cock was full for Jem.
He gasped as Cador jerked himself roughly, his tree trunk legs spread for support, hand flying over his swollen shaft. Oh, to have that iron rod of flesh inside, throbbing and alive—
“Gods!” Jem shouted, coming over his hand, splashing the furs. His release burned through him so powerfully he saw stars, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook, clamping around the candle.
Cador made a strangled sound, and Jem looked up to watch him come, milky seed spurting from the purpled head of his cock. Cador’s gaze was glued to Jem’s as he stroked and stroked his shaft until he flinched. Panting, Jem eased the candle from his grasping body, his fingers clumsy.
Thick white drops splattered the stone floor between them. Cador stared down at his spend with mouth agape, his softening prick hanging out, fist still gripping it. He panted, and Jem fought for breath as well, remaining on his hands and knees.
He’d made Cador come.
Even if he hadn’t actually touched him, watching Jem breach— fuck —himself had made Cador hard. Had made him stroke himself and find a shouted release, the evidence of which was stark, right in front of Jem’s eyes.
Cador wanted him.
Before he knew what he was doing, Jem crawled forward and dipped his head, licking up the briny seed, desperate to taste it. He lapped with greedy little noises, shocked by his own animal behavior but unable to stop.
His bollocks pulsed, and he groaned and tugged his shaft, spilling a few more drops, his fevered flesh painfully sensitive now. He licked desperately. He ached for Cador’s spend. Wanted it inside his mouth, his arse—wanted to be covered in it. Claimed.
A loud groan rumbled. Then Jem was flying up to his feet—the tips of his toes barely brushing the floor. Cador lifted him, full lips parted and lust-dark eyes searching Jem’s face. His hands were warm, gripping Jem’s ribs.
They stared at each other, their harsh exhalations mingling. Jem wanted to yank Cador’s head down for a kiss. They must kiss on Ergh. He still didn’t know for certain, but it was time to find out.
Before he could, Cador set him down and backed away, stalking to the door and out into the swirling snow, not stopping for his cloak.
The door thudded in his wake. Jem stared at the wood, trembling in the lingering blast of freezing air, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed—not only because he was naked.
He snatched his robe from the hearth, the slicked candle resting on the furs so innocently. Cheeks flaming, he tried to understand what he’d just done. What they’d done. Cador had stormed out without a word, and his sudden absence left a hollow void.
The candle was like an accusing finger, and he quickly washed it and bundled it away in his trunk with the oil. He bent to pull on breeches, and his backside twinged. He’d been deliciously rough on himself, and even now, a thrill throbbed deep within.
Had he truly done that?
It didn’t seem real. He’d pleasured himself in front of another man. He’d put on the filthiest show he’d ever imagined even in his fevered fantasies. Cador’s musk lingered heavy on Jem’s tongue, forbidden and intoxicating.
Gods, he’d licked it off the floor.
He squirmed in shocked embarrassment, pacing restlessly.
At least he’d mopped earlier? Jem laughed out loud, a hysterical note rising.
Yes, good thing he’d mopped before getting down on his hands and knees and crawling before Cador, lapping up his spend like…
He didn’t even know what! It should have been utterly demeaning, yet…
He laughed again, slapping a hand over his mouth. No matter what Cador thought about it, Jem found he couldn’t regret it. Instead of lessened, he felt richer. Joyous, even. Nourished, like he fit into his own skin more snugly.
He couldn’t control how Cador reacted in the aftermath, and surely the man was shocked given he’d fled into the storm without his outerwear. Perhaps he was disgusted, although Jem fervently hoped not. He’d finally— finally —acted out one of his secret fantasies, and Jem felt brave .
This hunger had lurked too long deep within. And now?
He was ravenous.