“Oh, God. Oh, shit,” James said as his cock began to pulse, shooting ejaculate onto his stomach. “I’m coming.”
Cassian let out a moan, too, and then his thrusting began to slow.
“Me, too.”
After a brief pause, Cassian collapsed onto him, capturing James’s mouth in a crushing kiss, and then he stayed low, resting their foreheads together, as though he needed to remain close.
James had nearly forgotten how wonderful it was to be loved like this. He wanted,needed, to thank Cassian. For wanting him. For loving him. For fucking him. For everything.
“Thank you,” he breathed.
Cassian huffed a pompous-sounding half-laugh.
“You’re mine, James,” he said matter-of-factly. “And that means that from this moment forward, I will fuck you whenever I want to fuck you.”
James’s heart stuttered. How he loved that ego. Lifting his head, he caught Cassian’s mouth in another kiss. Cassian must have sensed the hunger behind it.
Chuckling, Cassian broke away and said, “Ah, that’s what you wanted to hear, hm?”
“Yes,” James said. “What you said... it’s exactly what I want.”
To be needed. To be wanted. To be cherished.
“I want you to fuck me whenever you want to fuck me,” he reiterated. “And I will thank you for having had the chance to please you.”
Cassian steadied himself on one of his elbows and pushed a hand through James’s hair.
“Oh, my sweet James,” he said. “I knew you would provide exceptional service.”
James’s face warmed, and his entire soul was set ablaze as Cassian crushed his lips with a possessive, bruising kiss.
***
April 14, 1912
5:18 a.m.
Early in the morning, James awoke just as the sun was only beginning to rise. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he rolled over to face Cassian, who was still snoozing, his eyebrows pinched together as though he was concerned about something. Gently, James smoothed a thumb over the little crease that had formedbetween his brows, and Cassian’s expression relaxed a little. James spent the next little while watching him, lost in bliss. He’d felt so numb these last few years, ever since losing George, listlessly moving through life, feeling as though he had lost the spark to create and to live—reallylive—and to embrace life in the same manner that he used to. Hell, he’d often struggled to imagine a future for himself at all.
But now, lying in Cassian’s bed, having barely even had four hours of sleep, James felt positively energized, his body crackling with passion in a manner that it hadn’t in years. His fingers itched to hold a pen, and his brain seemed to buzz with the acute urge to write. And when looking at Cassian’s face, James couldn’t helpbutimagine his future—one where he and Cassian were together. Even though James had no idea what a future for them couldeven look like,stillthe possibilities excited him.
Would Cassian travel to and from Europe every month or so, purposefully sailing with the White Star Line? Or would Cassian insist that James find other work, maybe even in New York, so that the two of them couldalwaysbe close? Oh, God, what if Cassian even insisted that they live together somehow?
James smiled at the thought. Living with Cassian. How perfect that would be. Cassian could have him—couldtake him—whenever he wanted. And there wouldn’t be a day—not a single solitary day—when James wouldn’t feel treasured.
Exhaling a small, lovesick sigh, James sat up carefully in bed, hoping he wouldn’t wake Cassian. There were still a couple more hours left before James had to work, and he wanted to use the time wisely. First, he would somehow find Cassian some coffee, and then, he would write. Later, once Cassian finally awoke, the man could cuddle him some more before he had to slog through the rest of his shifts.
After climbing out of bed, James searched for a robe. He found one of Cassian’s, pressed it to his nose to inhale some of Cassian’s wonderful scent—pine, musk, and black pepper, likely from some cologne that cost more per ounce than even the cost of rent in some of the cheaper London flats—and then slipped it on. Tying it, he walked over to the door and then poked his head outside into the hall. He spied the cabin steward in a state of half slumber at the end of the corridor and cleared his throat loudly enough to catch the man’s attention. The steward shook himself awake and started over.
“Apologies for troubling you, but, uhm, may I order two coffees, please? Sugar and cream on the side,” James said.
“You’ll have to call for someone else, sir. I’m only a cabin steward.”
“I’m aware. But, see, you already know about me and my... friend. And I was hoping that we could make it so that no one else finds out.”
The man pursed his lips for a moment. After a pause, he held out his hand, palm up.
“Alright, two coffees. I’ll fetch them for you.”
