Page 25 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)
CHAPTER 25
T he kiss started hungry and urgent. There was no gentle slide into passion. It slammed into them and had them grabbing each other tightly as their lips and teeth clashed in a mad tangle. Hastings had never been kissed like this before, as if he was air to a drowning man who was pulling him under with him. He couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t hold Stephen any tighter, couldn’t pull his mouth off Stephen’s if the parsonage was on fire.
Suddenly Stephen was yanking at his jacket, trying to get it off his shoulders and Hastings stepped back awkwardly, unwilling to break the kiss while he tried to help get it off. The jacket would not cooperate, and he finally had to break the kiss with a gasp to rip the offending garment off. Stephen did the same, turning his inside out as he tore it off and then threw it away. Then Stephen began to unbutton his waistcoat, his chest heaving with his panting breaths.
“Yes,” Hastings said, his own breathing erratic. He’d never felt desire like this. He was a mad man and the only thing that would calm his savage desire was the feel of Stephen’s skin on his. He began to fumble with his own waistcoat, tore it off and then unwound his cravat.
“This is madness,” Stephen mumbled as he pulled his shirt off over his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Shut up,” Hastings said. “I want to feel you.”
“God, yes,” Stephen said breathlessly. He reached over and helped Hastings pull his shirt off and at last they were both bare chested. Hastings had never admired a man’s chest, but from the way his heart pounded at the sight of Stephen’s, he knew he’d compare every man to him forever after.
Stephen’s gardening showed in his arms and chest. Hastings had seen him laboring, pulling, toting, pushing his wheelbarrow around, all the physically demanding tasks the garden required daily. His arms and chest were well-muscled as a result. The curling mat of blond hair adorning his pectorals looked soft enough to rest his cheek on, but he wanted to rub every inch of his body on it. Just the thought made him shiver in anticipation. Stephen’s dark pink nipples were beaded, and Hastings wanted them against his tongue. He reached for Stephen, grabbing his upper arms and yanking him close. When their chests met Stephen cried out, but quickly muffled the sound by biting his lip. Hastings took a moment to enjoy the feel of him, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on his shoulders. Then he felt Stephen’s mouth on his neck, and he wrapped his arms around Stephen’s shoulders and kissed him again.
Was his skin as hot as Stephen’s? Were his nipples as hard, so hard that Stephen could feel them, just as he could feel Stephen’s like twin brands on his chest? Was the hair on his chest a rough caress on Stephen’s? Everything about their embrace was new, exciting, exhilarating. It was Stephen in his arms at last and he couldn’t get enough.
Stephen’s arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as he kissed Hastings back. It was all desire, no finesse, and the finest kiss he’d ever had. Stephen bit his lip just shy of too hard, then plunged his tongue into Hastings’s mouth with a moan. He sucked on Hastings’s tongue, and then his upper lip. It was as if he wanted to taste and experience everything his mouth could find, and Hastings knew he was doing the same thing. He clutched the back of Stephen’s head, his thick, wavy hair crushed against his palm, so soft and damp.
Stephen put a hand on Hastings’s backside and squeezed hard enough to make him gasp, and Hastings thrust against him in reaction. It brought his aroused cock into contact with Stephen’s through their trousers and they both moaned at the same time into each other’s mouths. Stephen put his other hand on Hastings’s bum and pulled him in tight, grinding against him and Hastings saw stars it felt so good. Who knew how good that would feel, another man’s cock on his own?
Stephen broke away from the kiss and began to kiss Hastings’s cheek, neck, anything his mouth could reach while keeping their groins pressed together, rubbing wildly against each other. Hastings just kept his hand on the back of Stephen’s head and enjoyed the feel of his mouth, his chest, his hands, his cock, everything about him, pressed against Hastings.
Stephen was panting into his neck, his hips wildly undulating against Hastings’s. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his skin now and Hastings enjoyed that, too, the slippery feel between them. He leaned down and licked Stephen’s shoulder and Stephen whimpered, his hips jerking. The saltiness of his skin was a delectable treat and he wanted more. He pushed Stephen away so he could lick down his chest, and he rubbed his cheek against that damp, curling chest hair that had fascinated him so.
It made him feel feral, how much he wanted to roll around on Stephen, coating himself in his smell and his sweat. He rubbed against Stephen’s nipple, and Stephen whimpered again. He took the hard nub between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue, and Stephen’s fingers dug into his backside, keeping their hips and cocks anchored to each other.
Stephen was breathing so hard, and it took a moment for Hastings to realize he was, too. Their rough, heavy breathing cut the quiet in the parlor like sharp blades. He bit into the muscle of Stephen’s chest, trying to rein in his desire before he spent too soon. Stephen’s chest was heaving under his mouth. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard, wanting someone this much. He couldn’t picture a single person he’d ever been with, couldn’t remember names or faces. Just Stephen. Just his face, his body, his scent, his sounds. He found his mouth again and held him tight as they kissed some more, their original ardor not slaked at all, rather more frantic and rougher.
“Here,” Stephen gasped as he broke away from the kiss. “Feel you.” He was fumbling at the buttons on Hastings’s trousers and Hastings let him go to help him. When they were undone Stephen shoved them down his thighs, his hands brushing against Hasting’s bare bottom, and he thought he was going to lose his senses right then. Stephen began roughly yanking the buttons open on his own trousers and Hastings had to grasp his shoulder to stay standing. Stephen shoved his trousers down his thighs as well, and the sight of their two bare cocks so close together made Hastings’s breath stutter in his throat. Stephen stepped closer again and used both hands to hold their cocks together and they both moaned at the feel of it.
“Christ,” Hastings said, his voice guttural as he stared down at the sight of Stephen’s large, rough hands holding them together. “So good. I can’t last. I can’t.”
Stephen laughed breathlessly, sounding almost drunk. “Yes, yes it is,” he agreed breathlessly. “I didn’t believe them when they told me how good it was.”
“What? Who?” Hastings asked, trying to concentrate on something, anything, other than how good Stephen’s hands and cock felt against him.
“Just…just everyone,” Stephen said.
Stephen stroked his hands up and down along their pressed-together lengths and they both gasped. Hastings felt a shiver race along his spine and knew it wasn’t going to be long. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” Hastings warned, grasping Stephen’s shoulders to stay upright, his fingers digging into him, feeling the muscles there move as Stephen stroked his hands up and down.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Stephen asked, his voice low and hungry. “I need it. I want to see you. I want to feel. I just want.” Hastings felt the same sort of shiver that afflicted him race across Stephen’s skin.
“I’m going to do it,” Hastings said breathlessly. “All over us.”
“Yes,” Stephen hissed. Hastings could see him bite his lower lip and that did it for him, the sight of Stephen’s sharp, white teeth biting his plump, kiss-red lip as he stroked their cocks.
“Stephen,” he managed to gasp, and then his vision grew foggy as he came harder than he’d ever come in his life. His back spasmed as his ballocks pulled tight and his cock jerked as he jetted his hot release onto Stephen’s hands.
“Oh,” Stephen gasped, and then he was coming too, still squeezing and gripping their cocks, his forehead resting on Hastings’s shoulder as he watched himself come.
When it was over they just stood there for a moment, plastered together with sweat and heat and their combined release. Hastings slowly became aware of their surroundings, shocked to find them still standing where they’d begun in the middle of the parlor. Their clothing was strewn about the room where they’d thrown it, and Hastings thanked Stephen’s deity they hadn’t tossed something onto a candle and started a fire. Although a fire had begun here, to be sure.
Stephen cleared his throat and straightened. “That…I’m sorry.”
“What?” Hastings asked. “Why?”
“I…we didn’t really talk about this. I mean, I just grabbed you and…”
“And here we are, sated and spent,” Hastings said. He stroked his hand through Stephen’s hair, quite damp with sweat now, and Stephen closed his eyes and leaned into the caress. “I can’t regret it. I’ve wanted it for ages. What about you?”
“Yes. Yes to both.” He gave a small laugh. “I don’t think I envisioned it here, standing up. And even now all the reasons we shouldn’t have done it are crowding my mind, but, no, I can’t regret it.”
Hastings pulled Stephen’s head back with the hand in his hair, and leaned down and kissed him, gently this time, and Stephen kissed him back, which caused a tension he hadn’t even realized he held, to relax. “Good,” he whispered against his mouth. “Are you going to let go of my cock anytime soon?”
“Yes,” Stephen said, laughing against his mouth. Hastings like the feel of that. “I need a handkerchief.”
When he let go, Hastings immediately missed his warmth and the feel of his rough palms. But he pulled his trousers up and found his jacket and his handkerchief and handed it to Stephen.
“Thank you,” Stephen said, and with a charming blush began to wipe his hands and cock off.
“Mine, too?” Hastings asked, stepping in close. Stephen hesitated just a second before he took Hastings gently in his hand and wiped him off. By the time he was done Hastings was half hard again. From what he could see, so was Stephen. “I think I could do this with you all night,” Hastings whispered.
Stephen reached up and kissed Hastings, not as gentle as their last kiss but not the frantic kisses they’d begun with. A kiss of exploration and discovery.
A small sound from the doorway had Hastings turning quickly, so that he blocked Stephen with his body. He saw Madelyn standing there, wide-eyed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to…I’ll just go.” She turned and fled.
“Oh no,” Stephen said softly, clearly distressed. “I should go to her.”
“You should not,” Hastings told him, regretting their rash encounter. He hadn’t meant to hurt Madelyn or ruin tonight for her. “Give her some time.” He let Stephen go. “She won’t want to discuss it in front of Essie, anyway.” He sighed and began to search for his discarded clothes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complicate things between you and Madelyn.”
Stephen touched his shoulder and then grabbed it when Hastings didn’t turn around right away. He forced Hastings to face him. “I’m not,” he said firmly. “I told you I don’t regret this. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”
“Have you?” Hastings asked with half a smile. “And how did it measure up to your expectations?”
“It surpassed them,” Stephen said, putting a hand over Hastings’s heart. Hastings became self-conscious under Stephen’s regard and looked down. Stephen tipped his head back up with a finger under his chin. “And you?”
“You’re a dream come true, parson,” he said with a wink. He feared his words were more accurate than he’d like, and that too soon this dream would end.