Page 9 of Inceptive (Ingenious #3)

9

WILL

W ill paced the cabin, rubbed his arms, and rotated his neck. “I’ve been locked in here for two weeks. I need fresh air! Why can’t I run around the porch and stretch my legs?”

“Because we don’t know why cannons continue to report missing servants.” Zach sighed and handed him a mug. “Drink this fidget tea.”

“More tea? Blah. I want a gin. I want to browse food vendors. I want to breathe cool fresh air. It’s stifling in here.” His tee irritated his sticky, sweaty skin. He wanted to strip down to boxers.

“Take your mind off air and the tight space. Practice chin-ups on the rafter. Build muscle. Think of how your enamored deputy viceroy will find you less attractive.” He hoisted Will up to get a grip on the rafter.

Will was flexible. He’d taken classes in fencing and yoga. But this? He clung to the rafter, grunting as he tried to raise himself.

“Come on, pretty boy. Give me one chin-up.”

“I’ll tear my arm sockets,” Will whined

“Try. Like this.” Zach performed twenty. One-handed.

Will managed one and let go. He looked up through his lashes at Zach’s smug grin, then stepped back, pivoted, and delivered a light side kick to the upper thigh.

“You barely missed my groin!” Zach covered his crotch.

“I grazed your thigh, precisely where I aimed. Helpless? Ha. Don’t call me pretty boy.” He shivered. “Now it’s freezing in here. Stupid wind. Stupid rain.” He sat in the rocker and sipped tea, shivering though a light sweat coated his face. He wiped the sweat with a towel.

Zach placed a blanket around his shoulders. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of Will’s neck. He leaned down and sniffed Will’s hair. “You smell nice, not sweaty.” His breathing heavier, Zach warmed him with a hug.

Oh fuck. The smell plus the sweat plus the chills plus stark-raving fidgets signaled a rut. Will broke away and ruffled through his backpack, which was hanging on a peg, to pull out a smoke. “Stay away. A rut has snuck up on me.” He lit the smoke on the stovetop, the tip flaring as he inhaled, holding, then exhaling slowly. “Prop the door open and air out the room.”

Zach placed a crate in the open doorway so that Will could stand behind it out of the breezy rain.

The door banging back against the wall annoyed Will. “Stop that banging. Bring a sack of grain for a doorstop. Hurry up!” he scolded when Zach stood transfixed by the stove.

Zach held up to his nose the towel he’d used to wipe Will’s sweat. His dark eyes widened as if marveling at the wonderful perfume. The smoke dangling between his lips, Will bounded over and tossed the towel in a bin. He pushed Zach to stand behind the crate. “Breathe deep! No, don’t grab at me. Keep your hands at your sides and breathe deep and steady. Dammit! Don’t pet my hair.” His lip muscles worked for him to talk, puff, and exhale as he placed a sack for a doorstop.

Will shoved Zach aside and sat atop the crate with his back to the porch. He cupped his hands around the smoke as he puffed. “Whew! Hit me fast. Extreme emotions trigger a rut. Losing Belle, new environment. Sleeping beside you smelling so musky and delicious and yummy despite those whiskers. Drat it! Brain, don’t go there. Think of nasty hairs on my tongue if I licked—” He slapped his cheeks. Once the smoke kicked in, the pleasure center in his mind would numb, and his cock would forget there was an available dick and accept his own handjob.

Damn the ancestors and their manipulation of the sex drive to ensure the survival of the human species. The rut reduced a male to spreading his seed like a spawning fish.

The joke’s on you, my dear ancestors. Females don’t entice me. I like cock!

Tears spilled down his face. He kicked his heels against the crate to distract the ache in his tight balls.

Zach moved between his legs and dabbed the tears. “I’ve never inhaled the full bloom of a young man’s rut. My servants were older, experienced, and smoked at the onset. Their smell barely registered.” He inhaled shakily. “My cockhead throbs, and you hurt. Do you want to jerk off while you suck me?”

Will drew in a lungful of smoke and held until he was sure his face was blue. He’d never been taught that Fort Hope’s men were susceptible to the scent of a rut. Had the steam lodge erased the servants’ memories? Beyond caring that Zach watched, he slid a hand inside his pants. “Riding out a rut without coming several times will make me piss blood.”

“Does jerking off burn away the rut faster?”

“Filling my ass full of cum burns it off faster.” His voice rose hopefully. “Letting me fill yours is the fastest.”

Zach groaned. “No. I’ll fill yours.”

“Being split like a melon? Ha! I’d rather piss blood.”

“Then suck me off. Use me.” Zach’s pants sported a wet spot, and the rigid outline of his cock was visible. “I’ve dreamed of you kneeling with grateful tears in your eyes. Oh, Will—use me.”

“You jerk wad—you’d be using me! Afterward, you’d hate me and stuff me in a fish trap.”

“Never. I’d respect you.” His hands stroked up and down Will’s sides. He whined when Will blocked crotch grabs.

“You’re having a reaction to my rut. The hell if I understand why. If you lose your mind and surrender to the lust, I won’t hesitate to bend you over this crate and work my cockhead inside you before you can count to three.”

“Ha. You’re funny. I don’t like men that way.” His brow furrowed. “Why do I like you? Why do you smell so good?” He knocked the smoke from Will’s mouth. “I know I like the ache that grips my balls.” From that tight-lipped stubborn expression, Zach was one thread from snapping and forcing Will to his knees, and Will would bury his nose in those big musky balls…

Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck! Will picked up the smoke, then puffed until a cloud numbed the scent he was throwing off, long enough for Zach to stand dazed while Will brewed a quick tea he hoped would work.

Will handed Zach the mug of tea, hoping the drink was in time because Zach was regarding him as a fuck toy. “I don’t have extra smokes to share with you. Drink all of this.”

Zach slurped, the tea dribbling down his beard. “What’s in it?”

“A calmative.” Will needed a fresh smoke.

“I know a good calmative.” Zach grinned and blocked him from getting to the backpack. Will desperately needed to jerk off the raging ache, but if Zach watched him come before the tea kicked in, he would stuff Will full of cock. And Will would let him… again…and again… and again.

Will had the absurd urge to run outside and fling himself in the water. The smoke hadn’t blunted the rut like it should have. What if… the smokes were filled with fake buds or defective buds? What if those missing servants had been in rut and had wandered off mindlessly for a hookup? Stars above—that was the reason for the cannon booms!

Zach had set his empty mug aside. His beard glistened from the tea. He began stalking Will around the cabin. “An owner must provide for a servant’s needs.”

“You’re enraptured by the rut.” Oh damn, oh damn. Will was faster. If he could maneuver to the door, he’d leap over the crate and let Zach chase him around the porch until the rain washed away the scent or a gust blew him over the rail.

Zach’s hands closed around his waist before Will leaped. “You need me. My belly gnaws with… with…” His stomach gurgled. He released Will, who jumped off the crate and poised to deliver a precise kick to the balls if Zach stalked him.

Zach stood with his face pale and his buttocks clenched. “What was in the drink?”

“Crapberries.”

With his belly gurgling, Zach ran behind the corner crates, opened the trap door, and lowered the shelf seat. A string of curses followed.

Will jerked off twice, then smoked atop the crate. Zach would be in no condition to carry out those inventive death threats.