“All true,” Stephen murmured, his fingertips dancing, spangling lightning through Crane’s cock. “If you washed me, I wouldn’t be dirty.”
“You’ll always be dirty to me.” Crane pulled him round. Stephen fell willingly into his lap, arching his back to offer himself up, and Crane grabbed the soap and began to run it over his chest, dipping and flicking water to work up a lather. He lavished attention on those sensitive hands till Stephen moaned audibly, then worked his way slowly down the little man’s narrow torso to the jutting hip bones and dark reddish curls at his crotch.
Crane angled the soap and slid it gently along the crack of Stephen’s arse, feeling him writhe at the tease. He dipped a finger in the lather and drew delicate patterns on Stephen’s skin, sliding down and around, under and over, watching him twitch and whimper. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you, my lord,” Stephen said hoarsely. “I want you to fuck me and not let go. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Crane stroked a hand over Stephen’s hair and gave him a wry smile. “My hero.”
“I was terrified.” The words were blurted out. Crane’s fingers stilled as Stephen’s golden eyes met his, their expression suddenly raw. “I thought I’d lost you, Lucien. I thought I’d find that thing wearing your body and eating your mind, and I couldn’t bear it. Oh God.”
“Come here.” Crane brought Stephen upright on his lap and held him close. Stephen bowed his head. Crane could feel him shaking as the day’s tension finally caught up with him, and wrapped both arms round his lover, pressing his mouth to Stephen’s hair.
Stephen gave a little gulp. “Sorry. Sorry. I just…”
“Ssh. It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”
They were silent for a while, Stephen taking long, shallow breaths as he tried to regain control. Crane held him and listened and finally heard the quick, sharp inhalation that signalled his lover pulling himself together.
“All right?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, that was an ill-timed fit of vapours.”
“We’ve got all night. Have all the vapours you want.”
Stephen snuggled closer. Crane stroked his hair, ran his fingers over the tips of his ears and brushed them down over his earlobes. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “Everything’s all right.”
“Now it is. It’s been such a horrible day,” Stephen said plaintively, into his chest.
“Oh, I don’t know. It had its moments.”
“True. The moments were wonderful. But I’d quite like to forget a lot of the hours.”
“That can be arranged. Whenever you’re ready.” Crane drew a fingernail down the nape of Stephen’s neck, watching him shiver.
“Mmm. Thank you, Lucien.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know. Being here.”
“Well, that’s your fault,” Crane pointed out. “You keep saving my skin.”
Stephen looked up, lopsided grin dawning. “But it’s such marvellously decorative skin. It would be a pity to waste it.”
Crane pulled Stephen into a deep kiss at that, hands roaming, feeling the electric prickle in his response. He stroked and licked and bit, not allowing his lover to start thinking again, gently readying the man till Stephen was squirming on his lap in helpless reaction.
“Lucien, my lord, my lord…”
“Mmm?” murmured Crane invitingly.
“Now. Please. Fuck me. Lots.”
“We are going to fuck till you forget your own name, but…” Crane couldn’t imagine anything he wanted less than to manhandle Stephen, not today. “I want you in charge.” He smiled at Stephen’s startled expression. His lover had an uncompromising preference for being on the receiving end, and that suited Crane well, but it was about time Stephen broadened his experience a little. “Come here, witch. Take me inside you.”
“Oh.” Stephen scrambled into position on his lap, lowered himself carefully towards Crane’s straining cock, and clutched his shoulders for balance as he eased himself down. “Mmm.”
“However you like,” Crane murmured, kissing Stephen’s neck and shoulder, keeping his own hips still. “You set the pace. You’re in control. Take it exactly as you want.”
“I’m starting to wonder if there is someone else in there,” Stephen muttered, sliding down a careful, agonising inch or so. Crane began to stretch his arms, winced at the sharp reminder of pain and put his hands behind his head instead, so that he didn’t grab the smaller man’s hips and thrust hard. Stephen’s slow movements meant Crane had only half penetrated him yet, and his balls were painfully tight with the need to fill his lover the rest of the way. He bit his lip.
“Are you suffering, my lord?” enquired Stephen softly, feathering kisses over his chest. “Tell me what you want.”
“You’re in charge.”
Stephen paused and tweaked a nipple punitively. “Yes, and I told you to tell me what you want. I like the way you talk to me.”