Page 13 of Inceptive (Ingenious #3)

13

WILL

T hough Will enjoyed blowing Zach, it had been a year since he’d received a furtive blowjob in the janitor’s closet. He missed a warm mouth sucking his cock. He fantasized about Zach on his knees blowing him, his eyes fascinated, his mouth hungrier each time. He fantasized about lying on their sides, leisurely sucking, their hands exploring and enhancing their climaxes.

With little else but sex to occupy them—not that either complained—Will’s fantasies escalated to obsession. Time would run out for each other.

Zach refused to kneel. However, his thigh fucking was sliding higher into ass crease territory. When the tip nudged Will’s hole, Will yelped and squeezed, causing Zach to lose control and cream his ass. He rolled off onto his back and stared at the ceiling, apologizing for disrespecting Will’s boundaries. “Sorry, but I want to fuck you… because… because I want my first time to be with you. Because I like being with you. You’ll have other men to enjoy before marriage. I’ll only have had you.” He slanted a look at Will, like he was expecting sympathy for his plight.

Will wiped his crease with a towel. “Hmm. Lovely words, Treetop, and I’d drop on all fours and tell you to have at me, except when medical cleared me for penetrative sex, your size wasn’t included in the range of easy encounters. I’m nervous about tearing without medical care nearby.”

“Would your husband feel intimidated that a larger man topped you first?” Zach raised on an elbow.

“Many lovers will have fucked me before I settle on a husband. The same for him, too. However, my first time topping belongs to the man who’ll be my husband. It’s a romantic, special declaration of my love, probably happening before we marry but saved for the right moment. You can stop worrying that I’ll spike your tea and tap your drunk ass.” He laughed at Zach’s visible relief. “Saving that first is a personal choice, not a moral code. I’ll hand over the title of viceroy, but his ass belongs to me.”

“So… if you’re properly stretched, you’d agree to be my first?”

“I’d try. Frankly, I doubt thumbs will help. To accommodate you, I’ll need to practice with a series of sex toys.” He snuggled into Zach, playing with his erect nipples and thick chest hair. “Why won’t you kneel?” Will asked, breaking their peaceful silence.

Instead of excuses, Zach countered, “I’ll blow you if you agree to anal play.”

Will’s mouth snapped closed, then he squeaked, “You would?”

“A time-honored tradition is to shake on a bargain.”

They shook dicks, fell asleep, and dreamed of fantasies coming true.

After washing thoroughly, Will sat on the table, covered his lap with a towel, leaned back on his elbows, and waited for Zach to quit stalling on the porch and find the courage to wrap his mouth around his dick. Will had sap, tea, and a spitting cup within reach. “Quit stalling, Treetop. No blowjob, no pucker play.”

“Not stalling. Trying to think how to get comfortable.” Zach brought the porch bench inside and padded it for comfort. He dragged a stool to the end and brightened the lantern. “Don’t want to kneel. Want to sit and look at you first.”

Will lay on his back on the bench, posing with an arm beneath his head while he lazily rubbed his dick and thrust his hips. He gasped when Zach suddenly grasped his ankles, slid his hips to the end, and slung a leg over each shoulder.

“I’m exposed.” The position scandalized Will. He blushed and covered his pucker, now spotlighted by the lantern.

Zach batted his hands away. “I’ve seen all of you when you straddle me, sucking me off with your ass in my face.”

“The room was darker.”

“I want to look at my reward for blowing you.”

Will reared up on his elbows. His eyes narrowed. “No pucker play before a blowjob. I need stretching first.”

“Look at you. So soft and pink.” Zach was breathing hard as he traced the rim.

Will searched for signs of disgust, saw none, then rested his head and shoulders on the bench. “Okay, maybe a little pucker play before a blowjob.” He clenched as the light finger taps changed to firmer presses, then to a slick fingertip pressing the entrance. Will squirmed from the pinching discomfort.

Zach froze, scared. “Forget anal play. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Will wasn’t losing a full blowjob over a little pinching discomfort. “I’ll loosen if you lick my cock while fingering my hole.” He playfully thrust his hips at the same moment Zack’s slick finger tapped his hole. Will yelped as the finger slid inside to the knuckle. Startled, he bore down to eject it, and the movement sucked the thick finger deeper. “Aw, damn, burns—pull it out!”

“Don’t twist—you’ll tear!” Zach planted a hand on his belly to hold him down.

He yipped as Zach yanked out his finger and, looking scared, checked for blood and tearing. Will’s blowjob was slipping away. “Try again. Slower. Use more lube.”

“But—”

“You didn’t hurt me. The stretch just surprised me. Do you want to try again?”

“Yes, dammit, I want to try again!” Zach bit off the end of a pod and squirted the target. He pushed a finger in slowly, with Will bearing down until his channel greedily swallowed the digit. A spark of pleasure traveled up Will’s spine. Staring down his belly, he saw Zach sliding his finger in and out. The fear had vanished. His eyes were greedy, possessive, and determined.

“Two?” Zach begged hoarsely.

Will nodded, then bit out, “Enough, enough!” The painful stretching from two fingers had smothered the spark. Zach slowly removed his fingers. “I’ve always assumed I’d like finger stretching,” Will gritted out. “But holy crap, Zach, I never imagined my first time would be with a man nicknamed Treetop. Your fingering stings. I need a thinner toy to stretch. Forget giving me a blowjob.” He sighed.

“You deserve a reward for trying.” Zach gripped Will’s dick and swallowed it all without gagging.

Will gasped, lost control, and face-fucked him. “Smooth and pink, huh? Think I’m a pretty mouthful now?” Zach bobbed faster, humming, sucking in his cheeks and using his tongue the way Will did to speed the payload when his jaw had tired. “Ahhhh! Slow down. No-no-no-not ready to come!” White stars appeared with a chorus of trumpets as he shot down Zach’s throat.

Zach spat and bolted down tea, as if to burn away the seed before he grew man breasts.

Will sprawled on his back, basking in a sensual symphony that was interrupted when Zach straddled the bench, standing over Will’s chest with both feet on the floor. “I didn’t come,” he said, and then he came with three strokes that arced and spattered across Will’s face.

Will swallowed the musky drips. “How’d I taste?”

“Salty.” Zach wiped their faces with a wet towel and handed him a mug of tea. “How was my first blowjob?” His smug smile said he knew Will had loved it.

“Not sure. You didn’t give me time to enjoy it.”

Zach snickered. “Think I didn’t know your trick.”

“How’d you tolerate my face fucking without gagging?”

“I redirected the gag reflex by folding my thumb into the palm of my hand and squeezing. Fort Hope’s children learn this trick so they don’t waste bad-smelling food.”

“But bad smells indicate potential food poisoning.”

“My people don’t get food poisoning.”

Despite Zach’s qualms, awkwardness, and swearing that cum wasn’t meant to be swallowed, he was on Will ten minutes later, carrying him to their pallet and swallowing him down because it was fun and wonderful, and nothing compared to intimacy if enjoyed with a partner you liked.

And yeah, cum was an acquired taste, sweetened by sharing the enjoyment of the one being sucked off.

Will prepared a tomato chowder with a river fish that Belle had left early in the morning, then went outside to find Zach carving a reed pipe. Will sat beside him. “Want me to try it out?”

“Yes.” Zach handed him what looked like a peeled turnip carved into a dildo. The turnips in the window box were four-inch fingerlings that hadn’t rounded to full girth. “I’ve carved four sizes to loosen you and have left the leafy greens on them in case the turnip gets stuck inside.” He seemed proud of his invention.

“Turnips? Seriously? Look at your reddened palms. A young turnip is peppery. Think of what it’ll do to my asshole.” Will held the turnip toy by its leafy greens and thwacked him across the back.

“Stop!” Zach cried. “I’ve a better idea… Cane bulbs.”

Will twirled the turnip. “I’m listening.”

“The bulb is fat and round and can be carved?—”

A cannon boomed. Will flung the turnip away and craned his neck at the trail of red smoke rising from the area of Zach’s rented tents. Another servant was missing. The cannons hadn’t boomed in weeks, and he had convinced Zach that defective smokes were responsible. But now, when the cane soared high above the walkway, and thick drifts of fog were unpredictable, any servant and experienced farmer could lose direction. A misstep in the fog could plummet a man into the water.

If the rain and wind had slowed, like now, farmers responded to the boom by walking the boards of their farms, calling out and whistling to guide the lost person toward shelter.

Will and Zach donned overalls, hats, and chest waders. They tied their belts together with leashes, and each of them carried a hooked pole, net, and a whistle. Zach searched the left side, Will the other. Now Will understood the care taken with numbers and arrows on the posts. If a farmer neglected his walkways, a worker would lose his sense of direction.

He muffled his nose with a scarf. The yellow runoff from the swamp that clouded the water and stunk was the feces of the pteryox. Farms closest to the swamp received the heaviest deposits. Zach had said that after it settled and the water receded, he would shovel yellow dirt into sacks and sell it to farms outside the basin. The manure made excellent fertilizer, superior to the droppings from farmstock, and was the reason why pteryox weren’t professionally hunted.

They’d traveled several walkways when four more booms sounded, all red flares and coming from different directions.

“Oh, shit.” Zach pointed his spear at the red-streaked sky. The booms had disturbed a flock of pteryox feeding in the cane. They screeched as they soared and flew toward the swamp, with what looked like clothed human remains gripped in their talons.

Will’s stomach felt like erupting from the fear and stench. “Are the missing lost or being hunted?”

“In all my years, this has never happened. I question why anyone would risk leaving a safe dwelling after the booms have reported so many missing.”

“They’re mindless from ruts and hooking up because of defective smokes.” Will tripped over his net and was immediately jerked to Zach’s chest. Their heartbeats thumped through the waders.

They continued up and down rows, prodding the cane and water. They’d disturbed slinks and snakes and dodged annoyed frogs. Will’s hook snagged, and he pulled it up cautiously. A chewed forearm dangled, and he screamed.

Zach grasped the pole before Will flung it away. Only the leash prevented him from bolting for the cabin.

“No wristband to identify him.” Zach put the remains in a bag. “It’s possible he was attacked while smoking or pissing. More likely, predators found him after he’d drowned.”

A gray fog rolled in swiftly and thick as soup. Within seconds, Will couldn’t see Zach a pace away. Something slithered over his boots, but he couldn’t see his feet. “Z-Zach?”

“I felt it.” Zach tightened the leash. “Fangs can’t penetrate our boots. They don’t strike unless stepped on. Stand still and wait until the fog drifts away. It always does. Be patient.”

“How long are we stuck here?”

“An hour or less. Rain and wind will thin the fog. Come noon, the sun will burn it away.”

“Maybe we should be quiet,” Will whispered.

“Two men talking will warn predators away.”

Unless they were rabid . Or a new species had arrived.

Gusts broke apart the fog, and the two of them ran toward the cabin. Four booms sounded before they reached the porch. Zach stopped to track the direction of the red smoke.

“Those missing are from caves. Predators never stalk the caves.” The hitch in Zach’s voice terrified Will. As they reached the porch, a steady siren sounded. Then silenced, then repeated in short bursts of three. “The gatekeeper sounds the siren to call off the search.” Zach’s words were strained. “Bursts of three means a sickness is spreading, and servants must be quarantined.”

He hustled Will inside the cabin as if another breath of foul air would infect him.

Their clothes dripped from rain and sweat as they secured the cabin from the unknown miasma. They lowered the awning over the window box and rolled extra rain barrels inside.

Will hadn’t heard reports of odd symptoms. The Island routinely vaccinated and eradicated diseases. If there had been an outbreak, his father would have held conference calls months ago to contain it.

“Have infections happened before?” Will asked.

“There have been outbreaks of fevers and breathing problems, but few die, and it’s usually something carried from the islands and spreads soon after arrival. We’ve been here three months. Happening this late… the sickness must’ve been picked up inside the basin. Strip and toss everything into a bin of disinfectant.”

Zach burned the bag in a small incinerator. He scrubbed his hands before examining Will from head to toe.

Will had no fever, aches, congestion, fatigue, odd tingles, lumps, or sores. At Zach’s gasp when he checked his back, Will cried, “What’d you find? Is it bad? Are there red streaks?”

“Bruises. Why didn’t you tell me I was rough last night?”

“I enjoyed unleashing the beast.”