Until he had Nikolas like this beneath him, he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge how much he’d missed him.
Nikolas made to remove Ben’s shirt, but Ben took his wrists and pinned them to the bed, silently shaking his head. He kissed Nikolas again, his tongue dancing against Nikolas’s then, very deliberately, allowing no refusal, he turned the older man over and eased the jeans off his backside. It was such a slow, sensual move that Nikolas glanced back at him with a curious expression. It was one of acknowledgement, perhaps, that in this Ben was now his equal and could command and take as he chose.
Ben lowered his mouth to the small of Nikolas’s back and kissed him, trailing his tongue lower. Nikolas arched his shoulders in surprise and pleasure. Ben pulled away and pushed him back down roughly. He slid up so his mouth was to Nikolas’s ear and said in a choked voice, “I had no idea how much I could miss you. One month together, and now I am entirely lost without you.” He gazed at the pale, lean back beneath him. Had he ever taken them to bed purely for Nikolas’s pleasure before? Wasn’t it always about him? Hadn’t it always beenhisbeauty andhisvibrancy, and Nikolas enjoying him from the shadows? Ben felt astonished when he realised how much he wanted to make this about Nikolas. He pressed his lips back to Nikolas’s skin.
Perhaps the wait and the scrutiny had made the other man even more sensitive, but Nik pushed up onto his forearms, his head hanging down, strong shoulder blades sticking out like broken wings of dubious grace. Ben kissed one then the other before he trailed his tongue down the prominent spine. Nik hung his head further, muttering something in his own language. Ben now caught a word or two and risked saying hesitantly, “Jeg elsker dig.” He wasn’t sure if his pronunciation was good, but Nikolas’s head came up, and he twisted around to stare, so Ben reckonedI love youhad worked for his first attempt at this impossible language.
“Tell me what you want, Nik, what you want me to do.” Nikolas’s eyes widened. Ben realised with something of a shock Nikolas had never done that. Never once indicated he liked or wanted anything. He just didn’t talk about what they did at all. Ben wasn’t exactly vocal, but he did murmuryeahorthereoragain, harder, deeperoccasionally. This was damn well chatty compared to Nikolas. Even now, Nikolas shook his head fractionally. Ben frowned and pushed roughly at the back of his head, holding it down, shaking it a little in admonition. He said hoarsely, “You have therightto pleasure.”
Nikolas jerked his head away from Ben’s hand and turned, propped up on one elbow. Very slowly, he brought his other hand up to Ben’s mouth, running his finger over his lips. He shifted on the bed, kicked his jeans off, and then with a firm grip around Ben’s neck brought him down to his cock. It lay hard upon his abdomen, flushed. When Ben put his lips to the tip, Nikolas arched, and finally Ben heard him say, “Yessss.” He took the heavy shaft deep into his throat, forcing himself to accept it, then pulled his lips off, dragging them along the glistening flesh.
“Tell me what feels best.”
Nikolas swore and flung an arm over his face, as if this childish gesture would prevent him from having to do the talking thing again. Ben took him to the back of his throat once more, heard a deep sigh of pleasure, and was about to accept that as likely the only thing Nikolas was willing to say, when Nikolas murmured, “I like that—deep, in your throat.” Ben groaned in pleasure at the wasted voice and strangled vowels he loved. The groan vibrating in Ben’s throat made Nikolas cry out, “Christ,” and arch like a bow. Ben worked the glistening shaft until his throat felt raw, and then he felt fingers tugging on his hair, warning him to pull off. He went deeper, kneeling up, his fingers pressing and working the base of the impossibly tight cock, and then Nikolas jackknifed up, and Ben’s throat was filled with warmth. Nikolas cursed again, still holding the back of Ben’s neck. “Yes, fuck, yes.”
When he was done, Nikolas lay back, staring at the ceiling. Ben wasn’t sure if the other man was more shocked at the pleasure of his intense release or at the fact that he’d said fuck as he came. The sophisticated exterior of Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen was cracking. Ben wondered where else he could make an inroad to the hidden interior. He rose over the supine body, lying groin to groin, chest to chest, his head held back to watch Nik’s dilated pupils. Nikolas’s eyes were like the peat pool on the moors where Ben had grown up. He wanted to fall into them, lose himself. He opened his mouth against Nikolas’s. Nikolas accepted the kiss, automatically parting his lips, then his face scrunched up and he pulled away. Ben held his head back in place and eased his come-covered tongue into Nikolas’s mouth, teasing it around the walls. Nikolas retained an air of disgusted superiority for a moment then he shivered in pleasure, seized Ben’s head, rolled them so he was on top, and controlled the kissing. Incredulous, Ben realised his mouth was now being explored, licked out, tasted. They eased apart, regarding each other, and Nikolas said huskily, “I love to kiss you.”
Ben smiled. “See? Not so hard to tell me what you want.”
Nikolas eyed him for a moment. “I like to tell you what to do. Maybe I now order you to turn over, hmm? You like to be ordered, don’t you, Benjamin?”
Ben loved the way Nikolas’s English twisted away when he was concentrating on the purely physical. Nikolas held his shoulders down. “You want me to take the power from you. Powerless you can truly belong to someone. You ask me what I want? I want to own you, Benjamin. It is not good to want this. It is dangerous—ownership and power.”
Ben put a hand to Nikolas’s cheek. “If I asked you something, would you tell me the truth?”
“Without knowing what is it you are going to ask?”
Ben nodded.
Nik narrowed his eyes and pouted, thinking. “All right.”
Ben stroked his thumb over the razor-sharp cheekbones. “I want to know how old you are.”
Nikolas’s eyes widened. He quirked his lips up then began to laugh. “If a genie ever offers you anything your heart desires, let me answer for you. You have just wasted a great opportunity. This is not a secret. I assumed you knew. I am forty-two next week.”
“Next week? Were you planning on telling me?”
“No. Why would you want to know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because?”
“Ah. For because.”
“Wow. Forty-two. And you can still walk unaided…”
Nikolas made a small noise of amusement in his throat and pressed his hand over Ben’s mouth. He pulled Ben’s thigh up with his other hand. “Tell me if I am ever too far gone for you, Benjamin.” And on Ben’s name he thrust himself in, hard again, easily able to make Ben arch in pain and shock, then in pleasure and need. He kept up a relentless pounding, face to face with Ben, not kissing, just staring at him, branding him with the look of total possession. Finally, he flipped Ben over, dragged his backside into the air to finish them both off, holding Ben’s head down with one hand, his other working underneath. With a hoarse, choked cry, Ben came into Nikolas’s hand. It was all Nikolas needed to finish, and with a last few faster thrusts, he shot a second load deep into Ben’s body, marking him as a possession on the inside as thoroughly as he had outside.
Ben collapsed. Nikolas sank on top of him, and they lay with hearts beating way too fast as they came down from the rush together. They were still joined. When Nikolas made to pull out, Ben slipped a hand back, holding him on. “Bo I…”
Nik grunted. “Did you just ask me to drive more carefully?”
“No, I said don’t pull out.”
“I think perhaps we will practise your Danish together.”
“What’s happy birthday?”
“Happy birthdays don’t exist, Ben, only in stories for children. Go to sleep. You have a dog to lose tomorrow.”
