Rating: NC-17
Content: M/M sex, bondage, language, a wee little pleasurable torture. *innocent smile*
Distribution: Go ahead, just credit me
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone, though I'd love to rent for a bit.
Summary: Set in the late 1800s. A nice little challenge ensues between Hunter and Austin. That's all I'm going to say.
November 26, 2000
"En guard!"
The tall man leaned against the wall studying the two figures in the center of the room. They were in identical stances; one arm raised up and away from their bodies, elbows bent slightly for balance, the other held in front of them, gloved hands gripping the hilt of steel foils, one foot placed ahead and bent in front of the other. The foils were crossed toward the tip as they readied themselves for the competition. As if on silent cue, the two combatants began to move. The observer noted the grace of one of the swordsmen, seeming to move as fluidly as water through each thrust and parry, arm steady as his wrist did all the work, his body first leaning forward to press his advantage and hopping back to block the other's assault. The first man kept up a running commentary on what the other was doing wrong and what he was doing well. After about three minutes, the speaker dipped his foil under the other's swordarm, whipping the blade out of his hand and pressing the tip of his own against the padded chest of his opponent, thus ending the game. The winner straightened, lowering his weapon, pulling off his mask, a cascade of golden blond hair falling around his shoulders.
You did well, my boy," he said with a hint of a smile on his lips, holding out his hand. The other shook it, removing his own mask to reveal a boy of about fifteen. "You did much better this week."
"Thank you, My Lord," the boy said, a proud smile on his face. "I've been practicing a lot."
"That's good, son," the blond approved, patting his shoulder. "Why don't you go change. I think your father should be picking you up soon."
The boy nodded and hurried from the room, the other's eyes following him with a pleased smile...until his eyes met the observer's lounging against the wall. His smile soured considerably as he pointed the tip of his foil toward the floor and cupped his headpiece under his arm.
"To what do I owe this dubious honor?" he inquired sardonically. "Don't tell me you've come to get yourself thoroughly trounced again?"
The blue eyes of the other man darkened with annoyance, but he remained casual. "Helmsley, we all know that you couldn't beat me in a fair fight."
The blonde's hazel eyes narrowed slightly, the depths sparkling with cold contempt. "It figures that you would try and use that excuse for your failures. You just can't admit that I am the better man, can you, Austin?"
Steve Austin slowly straightened to his full height, his movements deliberately nonchalant. "I have no problem about admitting another man is better than me...if it is warranted. In your case, it is not...and never will be."
Hunter Hearst Helmsley's lip curled in caustic amusement. "Care to prove it?"
Steve tilted his smoothly shaven head. "What did you have in mind?"
Hunter lifted his foil and pointed it at the wall behind him. "Pick your weapon and suit up and let's have a rematch."
Steve turned and studied the collection thoughtfully. He ran his fingers over several swords, finally settling on a pair of beautifully wrought rapiers with wickedly sharp double-sided blades. He lifted them from their hooks, tossing one to the other man, who caught it deftly. Steve hefted the sword in his hand, pleased with the balanced weapon, slashing it through the air experimentally, liking the whirring sound it made.
"There should be another suit in the dressing room," Hunter said flatly as he moved to set his foil down on a nearby table. "I think it will fit you."
Steve snorted derisively. "I'll forego it. I'm not planning on your blade getting anywhere near my flesh. But, by all means, keep your protective gear on. You'll need all the help in the world."
Hunter frowned at his subtle insinuation, tossing his mask next to the discarded sword and turning to face his adversary. He bent and reached between his legs and loosened the strap, then whipped off the padded jacket, revealing bare skin beneath. "How about we make this a first blood match?" Hunter replied peeling off his glove and dropping it next to the other garment and moving to the center of the floor, waiting for the other man to join him. While he waited, he withdrew a short leather thong and gathered his hair and tied it back at the nape of his neck.
Steve strode onto the mat, sparing Hunter a glance before readying himself, squatting and rolling his shoulders to loosen himself up. "You think you can bare to lose any of that thin blue blood of yours, Helmsley?"
Hunter grunted, refusing to acknowledge his taunt, instead watching the other man closely, noting that he'd lost some weight since the last time they'd met, his muscles more defined, skin a bit tanner. He let his hazel gaze roam idly over him, admiring his physique. One thing he could never deny was that Steve Austin was a fine figure of a man.
Steve felt Hunter's eyes on him, but ignored it...or at least tried to. He shook out his swordhand, flexing the fingers before adjusting his grip on the pummel until it felt comfortable. He quirked a brow at Hunter. "You ready to be humiliated, Helmsley?"
Hunter gave him an arrogant smile. "I'm not the one who's going to be humiliated, Austin," he said. Then, before Austin could respond, he flicked his ponytail off his shoulder to swing behind him and growled, "En guard." Both rapiers snapped into the ready position.
The match began slowly, both testing one another, looking for weakness, each advancing and retreating, moving as if performing an intricate dance. Their focus was intense, bodies seemingly relaxed and negligent, but every muscle rippling and flowing like liquid silk.
"Hunter felt a trickle of sweat slip down his spine as he fended off Steve's adept thrusts, backing him towards the edge of the mat. He dropped his swordarm slightly, attempting to slide under Steve's guard, but Steve countered his move, their blades clashing strongly, slithering down until the hilts clanked together. They stood nose-to-nose, their eyes fighting a battle of their own, determination and resolve written across both their faces as they bore against each other, the tension in their hands and wrist so great that the tendons stood out in sharp relief under their skin.
"Why don't you submit, Helmsley," Steve ground out, his steel-blue eyes piercing his foe. "You can't win this time."
Hunter gave him a tight smile and shook his head briefly. "Not a chance, Baldy." With a heave, he shoved the other man back, making him stumble a little, which he capitalized on instantly, bouncing forward to slice his arm. He snarled in frustration when Steve managed to ward him off, despite being off-balance. Hunter doggedly pushed forward, backing Steve to the other side of the mat, causing him to scrambled to parry each blow. Just as Hunter was about to end the skirmish, Steve surprised him by abruptly dancing to the side and flicking his wrist, tangling the blades together and jerking, snatching the rapier out of Hunter's hand, flinging it into the corner of the room. He simultaneously hooked his foot behind Hunter's ankle and wrenched, tumbling the other man to land on his back on the floor. Steve loomed over him, pressing the tip of his rapier to the center of Hunter's chest until it penetrated the skin. A mellow gleam of triumph lighting his eyes as a thin trickle of blood made it's way down the blonde's side.
"Finis," he murmured before lowering the sword to the floor.
Hunter frowned up at the smug man, irritated beyond belief at the cunning tactics Steve had employed. "That was ungentlemanly."
Steve grinned, shrugging a shoulder carelessly. "I never claimed to be a gentleman."
Hunter snorted, suddenly snaking his own foot out and catching Steve behind the knee and pulling, bringing the other man crashing to the mat atop him, knocking the air from both of them.
"You're a sneaky bastard, you know that?" Hunter snapped, wrapping a hand around Steve's throat and squeezing firmly.
Steve stared down into the smoldering hazel eyes and chuckled raspily. "I'll take that as a compliment, Helmsley," he said softly, clasping Hunter's wrist and exerting his strength to break his hold.
Hunter tightened his fingers, feeling the cords in his neck stand out, his pulse beating heavily against his palm. "Only you would take an insult so," he sneered, scissoring his legs so that they clamped around Steve's waist. He hoisted himself up and flipped the other man onto his back, straddling him as he joined his other hand to the first. "You know I could throttle you right now?"
Steve grinned wryly. "You could...but you won't."
"What makes you think so?"
"Because the authorities would have you arrested and hanged faster than you can blink. Scotland Yard and the ton doesn't take kindly to dukes being murdered by peasants, such as yourself."
Hunter's cheeks flushed with rage. "I am no peasant, damn you!" he snarled. "You know very well that I am related to French royalty. My great-great-grandfather was once heir to the very throne! I am a Marquis and heir to my father's estate."
Steve made a disdainful noise. "And yet, with all your connections, you are reduced to teaching fencing to society brats and bored gentry."
"I was not 'reduced' to anything," Hunter gritted, curling his fingers into the soft flesh of Steve's neck, gratified to see him wince in pain. "I chose to be a fencing instructor."
"No man in your position chooses to do menial work," Steve scoffed.
"This man does," Hunter hissed. "I happen to enjoy what I do. I'm good at it...and it's an honest living...which is more than I can say for you, who hasn't done a hard day's work in his entire life."
Steve narrowed his ice-blue eyes. "Do these calluses on my hands portray a man who knows nothing of hard work?" He spread his fingers in front of the blond. "I don't only direct my servants to work for me, but I participate in the plowing and planting and harvesting. I don't order any of my people to do anything I wouldn't do myself." When Hunter didn't speak, he sighed and shrugged indifferently. Anyway, I do not fancy staying like this all bloody day, so if you'd kindly remove yourself..."
"I want a rematch," Hunter said suddenly, releasing him and rising to his feet.
Steve followed, massaging his neck and dusting himself off. "I think not," he refused coolly. "I've already proved myself. Why should I do it again?"
Hunter raised a golden brow superciliously. "You haven't proved anything to me other than you use underhanded trickery to best those you know are more skilled than you."
Steve's jaw clenched as he restrained himself from punching the egotistical man in his most prominent nose. He bent and retrieved the rapier that he'd dropped when he'd been pulled to the ground. "I suppose that if you don't mind being out-fenced again-"
Hunter shook his head, carefully tugging the sword from Steve's hand and walking over to it's twin and, picking that up too, replaced them on their pegs. "No...not swords." He moved to a nearby chair and sat down, proceeding to unlace his boots and take them off, followed by his stockings.
"Then just what did you have in mind?" Steve questioned, curious despite himself. He watched as Hunter stood again, stalking toward him like some sleek, powerful jungle cat. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight of his sun-kissed skin flexing over hard-packed muscles. Why hadn't he noticed how damned beautiful his body was?
"I challenge you to a wrestling match," Hunter stated quietly, halting just in front of him, looking directly into his eyes.
Steve scrutinized him for a long moment, then gave a curt nod, swiftly removing his silk shirt and Hessian boots, clad only in his buff-colored calfskin breeches. "Submission rules?"
Hunter bowed his head slightly. "Of course."
The two men circled each other, gauging where to strike. Hunter made the first move, catching him in a headlock that Steve immediately broke out of. Then Steve grabbed Hunter around the waist and executed a belly-to-belly suplex, to which Hunter rolled to his feet without missing a beat. Thus, things went for the next few minutes, each mounting an offense of which their opponent managed to escape. As time wore on, sweat began to pour from them, their breathing labored as they tried unsuccessfully to take each other by surprise, cinch in holds that the other quickly freed themselves from.
Hunter drew his forearm across his forehead to keep the perspiration from dripping into his eyes, which proved to be a lapse in judgment. Steve pounced on his momentary distraction and drove the younger man to the mat. He barred a forearm across Hunter's throat, cutting off his air supply.
"Do you submit to me?" Steve asked gruffly, ignoring Hunter's nails biting into his flesh as he tried to wrench it away.
"Never," he gasped, seeing black spots begin to cloud his vision. He shoved desperately at the broad chest above him, alarmed to feel how weak he was. With a last concerted effort, he wedged a hand between them and gripped Steve between his legs, squeezing hard. He was relieved to feel the arm ease up instantly and he tightened his hold, gratified to hear Steve groan in agony, attempting to peel his clawed fingers away. With a heave, he tossed the other man onto his back, rolling over him, never releasing his grip.
"How about you, Steve?" Hunter panted, getting his wind back. "Do you submit to me?"
"No!" Steve croaked, emitting another moan of pain as Hunter dug in harder.
"I'd really hate to be the cause of you being unable to produce any heirs, Your Grace," he sneered huskily. "Just say the word and I'll have a little mercy on you."
"You...son of a bitch," Steve growled raggedly, whimpering at the increased pressure, his back arching at the exquisite torture. "Damn you...I give! I give!"
Hunter immediately relaxed his fingers, a faint smile flirting with his lips, his hazel eyes glittering with victory. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Steve glared up at his adversary furiously. "And you accuse me of underhanded trickery?"
Hunter shrugged casually. "I figure that if it's good enough for a duke, it's good enough for a so-called 'peasant' like me." Absently he felt the bulge beneath his hand growing and he smirked. He gently began rotating his palm, watching Steve's face shift from anger to shock to speculation.
"I could have you arrested for assaulting me," Steve said quietly. " A duke outranks a Marquis and threatening my manhood is a serious offense."
Hunter didn't answer, merely continued smiling and kneading him lightly.
"You hurt me badly, you know," Steve said, his voice becoming hoarser.
"I can feel you throbbing hotly through your breeches," Hunter whispered. "And you're swelling at an alarming rate. "Should I...take a look to see if I've incurred any permanent damage?" Steve made a noise in his throat that Hunter took as an assent and began unfastening the pants, slipping his hand inside to wrap around the engorged flesh. "My my...you are quite swollen here. And very stiff."
Steve tilted his hips upward into Hunter's lazy strokes. "I believe it's your duty to remedy that," he replied, hissing in a breath at the slight tug, then the fist firmly drawing up his length. "God...Hunter..."
"Do you think some wet heat will make it feel better?" he asked in a velvet tone, fondling his smooth balls, rolling them between his fingers.
"Perhaps," Steve moaned, splaying his hands on Hunter's chest. "Why not try it and see?"
Hunter chuckled softly, deciding to put his hostility for this man aside to grab a few minutes of pleasure. There was so little in his life these days that he had to snatch it when it presented itself, no matter how it came to him. He slid down Steve's body, lashing his tongue over the salty skin as he went, pausing to nibble and suckle his nipples before continuing downwards, darting into his navel...lower to bury his face in his shaven groin. He curled his tongue around the root of the shaft, pressing open-mouthed kisses up the flesh until he reached the tip. He swirled his tongue around it, lapping up the moisture before enveloping the head in his hot depths.
Steve exhaled harshly at the feel of sucking heat, curving into the sensation as Hunter eased him down his throat. "Bloody hell!" he cried out, twisting his fingers into the other man's hair, dislodging the leather strip holding it back.
Hunter hummed his enjoyment, delighting in Steve's responsiveness. He slowly bobbed on him, sucking strongly, growling at the intoxicating flavor and texture of him. He could feel that Steve was very close and he increased his rhythm, hungry to taste his release. Just before he spilled, however, Steve wrenched him off, wrestling him over until he was on top, ravaging his mouth like a starving man. Hunter responded in kind, digging his fingers into the back of his neck.
"I want to fuck you," Steve rumbled, grinding himself against Hunter for emphasis.
Hunter stared up at Steve and shook his head. "No. I want to bury myself inside of you, feel your body surrounding me tightly."
Steve frowned. "No one...and I mean no one has ever penetrated me and I don't intend to start now."
Hunter glared up at him, sniffing in contempt. "Neither have or shall I."
"Steve levered himself onto his haunches. "So...now what?"
"I suppose the only recourse is to give oral pleasure."
Steve looked displeased at that solution, though Hunter's mouth was remarkably skilled in that department. "You wouldn't consider letting me...this once?" he asked hopefully, circling his fingertips around the blonde's hardening nipples.
Hunter scowled at him. "Why should I be the one to be the bitch?" he retorted. "After all, I bested you. I should have the superior position."
"Ahh, but you forget that I bested you in the fencing match," Steve reminded him. "So that makes it a draw."
Hunter sighed in frustration. "Then how do we settle this?"
Steve thought for a few minutes, gently plucking and pinching Hunter's nips as he did so. He eventually smiled as an idea came to him.
"Neither of us is willing to submit to the other's will, correct?" At Hunter's brisk nod, Steve went on. "But we have establish that we want each other. Is that not also correct?"
"What are you getting at, Austin?"
Steve pinched him sharply in reprimand. "Remember who you're addressing, Helmsley," Steve said silkily. "As I was saying...we want each other but won't submit our will to one another. So how about another challenge?"
"What sort of challenge," he asked warily, squirming a little as Steve's ministrations grew bolder, thus arousing him more.
Steve smiled at him slyly. "How about we see who can make the other break down and offer themselves?"
Hunter snorted scornfully. "Will never work. We're both too strong willed to allow that to happen."
Steve grinned broadly, revealing a previously hidden dimple in his cheek. "Oh, but this will prove once and for all which of us has the stronger will. We will try seducing the other both in public...and in private. I guarantee that before much time goes by, one of us will be begging to be taken...especially if one of the rules of the challenge is that neither one of us can take pleasure with anyone else during our competition."
Hunter's brows drew together as he pondered Steve's suggestion deeply, gasping as Steve's fingers found his shaft through his pants, gliding them up and down teasingly. "And another rule should be that we can't pleasure ourselves either. Only the other man can provide release...or not, as the case may be."
Steve nodded in agreement. "Done. Now, how about we seal this deal?"
Hunter chuckled seductively, bucking Steve off him to climb over him, yanking down his pants just enough to release his pulsing cock. "I think I know the perfect way to do that, Your Grace." Hunter guided himself to Steve's already parted lips and moaned as he kissed the tip gently. He then leaned down and took Steve down his throat, bobbing roughly, groaning as the other man did the same. They were soon arching and thrusting wildly into each other's mouths, grunting and straining as they worked to bring the other to completion. With a simultaneous muffled shout, they exploded together, humming in satisfaction as they milked the other dry, then rested before getting to their feet, readjusting their clothes without speaking or looking at each other.
"So the challenge begins," Steve announced, holding out his hand.
Hunter took it and they shook firmly. "So it does," Hunter replied, then gave a rueful smile. "Too bad you couldn't save us both the trouble of this thing and give in now. You'll only lose later anyway."
Steve quirked a brow mockingly. "Is that so? I think you'll be the one beneath me by the time this challenge is through. I believe you'd make a perfect bitch...my bitch."
Hunter flushed with displeasure. "Why don't you run along and plan your strategy? You're going to need every cunning skill at your disposal."
Steve slipped his feet into his boots, stamping his heels and straightening. "You just be ready to receive me when this is all over, my friend."
Hunter snorted and turned his back, moving to the table where his gear lay. When he looked back a few moments later, he found himself alone in the room.
*****
One Week Later
It was Countess Wentworth's ball and the whole of England seemed to be packed into the large ballroom. A small string orchestra played in a corner as guests either lounged the perimeter or glided across the dance floor. The bank of French doors were thrown open to allow the cool night air to offset the heat the hundreds of candles in the chandeliers and the cramped bodies inside.
Lord Hunter Hearst Helmsley was desperate to escape the confines of the ballroom, feeling thoroughly wilted in the humid atmosphere, irritated beyond endurance at having to dance with flirtatious little girls that batted their doe eyes up at him. He was the perfect gentleman, but just once he wished he could speak his true thoughts and watch their mouths fall open in shock and outrage. It would be so liberating!
Hunter sighed and glanced around the room restlessly, wondering just how much longer he had to stay before he could slip away and go to his club for some port and maybe a friendly game of piquet. He was idly looking around, planning a route of escape when his eye riveted to a tall man in deep conversation with the Earl of Montfry. Hunter felt his heart race as he examined the man, admiring the burgundy jacket with matching waistcoat, ivory-silk shirt and black dress pants, his boots polished to a mirror finish. He slowly let his hungry eyes slide back up to lock with his object of scrutiny. Hunter smiled and raised his glass of punch to him.
Steve Austin returned the smile, pleased to find the blonde attending this ball. He glanced to the side and murmured a few words to his companion, then began the arduous trek towards Hunter. Hunter moved forward, then realized that they'd never be able to get through the crush. He looked around and saw an exit that lay between them. Hunter tilted his head towards it and Steve nodded, striking off in that direction.
A few long and impatient minutes later, they met at the hall entrance, easing through the doorway and sighing in relief as the noise level dimmed considerably. Steve caught Hunter's arm and steered him further into a dark alcove, wasting no time in shoving the other man against the wall and devouring his lips.
Hunter grasped Steve's lapels hauling him closer as he thrust his tongue deep into his mouth, growling raggedly as he angled his head to probe further, curving into him with savage desire.
Finally they broke the kiss, panting for air. Steve tugged his cravat off his neck and shook out the painstakingly designed floret, capturing one of Hunter's wrists and putting it behind him, looping one end around it before taking the other and doing the same, tying them together snugly.
"What is this?" Hunter asked, testing his bonds and finding that they were secure.
Steve smiled wickedly. "I want to have free reign of you without you interfering."
"Just what...oh, God...Steve..."
Steve had unbuttoned Hunter's breeches and reached inside, drawing his already fully erect shaft out to stroke languidly while he nuzzled and suckled on his throat. "You were saying?" he murmured.
Hunter could only gasp as Steve dropped to his knees and began to kiss the length of him, drawing the head into his mouth and sucking softly, delicately tracing the veins pulsing rapidly just beneath the silky skin with his nimble fingers. "St-Steve...oooh..."
Steve chuckled at Hunter's inability to speak coherently, then, without preamble, he deep-throated him, humming low and continuously, the reverberation sending ripples of hot sensation through the blonde.
Hunter bucked away from the wall, biting his lip hard to stop himself from crying out. He squeezed his eyes shut as Steve rose and fell in a sensual glide, hollowing his cheeks with the strength of his suction. "Ahh, yesss...so good..." Hunter hissed, rolling his head back and forth against the wall. He urged him into a quicker rhythm with arching hips, meeting his descent fiercely.
Just as he was on the verge of spilling, Steve released him and stood, carefully easing the straining shaft back into Hunter's now too snug breeches. He planted a feather-like kiss on his lips, loosening the scarf before giving him a roguish wink and sauntering away, disappearing back into the ballroom.
Hunter stared after him in disbelief before snarling foul epithets, damning Steve to eternal hell, wishing him the most horrible of deaths.
*****
A Week Later
Steve sat down, engaging in idle conversation with the gentleman next to him, eager to see this newest Shakespeare production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. There had been rave reviews and he'd been fortunate enough to land a seat in the box overlooking the stage. He was sipping his champagne, smiling at an amusing anecdote when he froze, recognizing a voice behind him. He didn't turn around to confirm his ears, merely sat stiffly, half-listening to his companion, half to Hunter who seemed to be chatting with Lady Chesterton about the forthcoming play. He was relieved when a few minutes later the lights dimmed until the box was nearly full dark. He concentrated on the play, managing to almost forget that Hunter was nearby...that is until he heard a faint noise behind him. He knew instinctively that it was Hunter. What did he think he was doing? He wouldn't be able to see the stage from there? No one was sitting back the-
His thoughts stuttered at the feel of hot breath wafting over the sensitive skin of his scalp. That was all the warning he got before wet lips fastened themselves to him, tongue laving and swirling its way down the back of his head to the nape of his neck, suckling gently. Steve clenched his hands into fists in his lap, fighting the urge not to groan. Hunter scraped his teeth along the cord, nibbling lightly, licking and kissing the exposed flesh until Steve wanted to scream. He jumped at the feel of a hand insinuating itself between the slats of his chair and under his jacket, tugging his shirt from his pants and smoothing his fingers over his back, raking his nails down his spine to the waistband, then back up to repeat his motions.
"Pants getting a little too tight?" Hunter breathed tauntingly into Steve's ear. "wish I could attend to that for you...but you see, I rather doubt these good people would appreciate seeing me sucking your cock right here in full view, hmmm?"
Steve gave a faint chuff of frustration, which only served to amuse Hunter.
"I suppose you could say turnabout is fair play, considering the condition you left me in last week," Hunter whispered, nipping Steve's lobe sharply. "That was very bad of you, Stevie." Had to take an impromptu dip in the icy lake after that...which didn't help one bit, I'll have you know."
Steve focused on keeping his respiration steady while his body went up in flames. Hunter gradually withdrew his mouth and hand, meticulously tucking the shirt back into his waistband. Steve blinked as the lights brightened and everyone began to leave. He'd completely missed the performance, he was so fixated on Hunter. He cautiously rose, grimacing at the discomfort of his massive and distinctly painful erection, glad he'd decided to wear loose trousers tonight. When he turned, he expected to see Hunter, smirk firmly in place, but he'd vanished...which was perhaps fortunate because he was afraid he would have strangled the man otherwise.
*****
The Next Day
Hyde Park was deserted at the early hour of seven in the morning, the chill of the air deterring all but the bravest of riders.
Hunter steered his bay gelding down the winding path, breathing in the scent of damp earth and greenery, turning his face to the sky where the sun was just showing itself over the tops of the trees. He was thinking of heading to his club for breakfast when the clatter of hooves caught his attention. He grinned when he saw who was cantering toward him on a magnificent Arabian. When Steve Austin came abreast of him, he drew to a halt and doffed his hat, nodding in greeting, a rueful smile flickering about his lips.
"I trust you slept well last night?" Hunter inquired with a not-quite-convincing innocent expression.
Steve snorted. "You know damned well I didn't, you tormenting bastard," he retorted gruffly.
Hunter chuckled, thoroughly pleased with the response. "Now you understand what I went through when you teased me most outrageously."
"I must say, however," Steve continued. "that all your machinations only served to make me want to rip your clothes off and fuck you into the next century."
Hunter raised a sardonic brow. "Hmmm...perhaps I was doing it wrong. You didn't have the least urge to have me inside you?"
Steve curled his lip faintly. "Not the slightest."
"Then I'm just going to have to try harder next time," he said. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one was near before leaning across the small space between them and grabbed ahold of Steve's cravat, yanking him forward into a ravenous kiss that left both of them groaning in need. "How much longer are you going to be stubborn, Austin?" Hunter panted, forcing himself to release the other man and straighten in his saddle.
"Me?" Steve growled hoarsely, attempting to refashion the intricate design in his cravat, finally giving up when it refused to cooperate, wrenching it off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket. "You're the one determined to prolong this agonizing torture. If you'd just give in, you'd put us both out of our misery."
Hunter shook his head regretfully. "I can't do that, Steve. I can't understand why it's so difficult for you to let me-"
Steve made an impatient gesture with his arm. "I can see we're getting nowhere with this conversation, so I think I'll continue my ride before I resort to something I've never even contemplated doing in my life."
Hunter's brows drew together in bemusement. "What's that?"
Steve replaced his hat on his head and shook out the reins before answering, looking directly into Hunter's hazel eyes. "Right now, I'm sorely tempted to force myself on you."
With that simple statement, Hunter watched him trot away, leaving him to wonder if it would be such a bad thing if he did.
*****
A Week Later
Steve Austin surveyed the room, smiling slightly as his guests seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly. He didn't often host parties in his own home, but he figured it was for a very good cause. He snagged a glass of wine from a passing waiter and sipped it as he absently tapped his foot to the lively madrigal the six piece orchestra was playing.
"You seem to be pleased with yourself tonight."
Steve grinned as he turned around to find Hunter regarding him with amused dark eyes. "Oh, very much so," he replied, swinging an arm around the blonde's shoulders amiably, inwardly chuckling at Hunter's wary glance. "I believe this gathering is a smashing success, wouldn't you agree?"
Hunter cast a look over the nearly hundred people dancing, sitting and chatting, filling the ballroom and terrace. "I'd hazard a guess that you're the toast of the season."
Steve laughed in delight, releasing him to beckon another waiter to him, plucking a glass from the platter and handing it to Hunter. "Drink up, my friend. I'm afraid you're going to need it."
Hunter glanced at him with a puzzled frown. "Pardon me?"
Steve nodded toward a matronly woman determinedly making her way toward them. "I believe the good Lady Wakefield is about to descend on us. And if I'm not mistaken, she's about to attempt to recruit you to give a lecture on fencing and perhaps railroad you into performing a demonstration."
Hunter groaned, quickly downing his drink and signaling for another. "Do you think I have time to duck into the card room?"
Steve shook his head, turning to amble away. "I'm afraid not, old chap. Excuse me while I make my own escape. See you later, mayhap."
Hunter hissed his name pleadingly, but Steve merely chortled and disappeared into a milling group of ladies who fluttered around him like flapping birds.
*****
An hour later, Hunter managed to extricate himself from Lady Wakefield's clutches, finally agreeing to do whatever she wanted, desperate to get as far away from the annoying woman as quickly as possible. He stepped onto the nearest terrace and breathed a sigh of relief as the night air cooled his heated skin. He started at the light tap on his shoulder, spinning around abruptly, alarmed that it might be Lady Wakefield to prevail upon him for more 'favors'. But it was only Austin's butler who blinked at him expressionlessly.
"Lord Helmsley," he intoned gravely. "His Grace would like to speak with you."
Hunter looked over his shoulder, looking for the tall, bald man. "Where is he?"
"If you'd please come with me, I'll take you to him."
Hunter followed the butler through the house, up the stairs and down a hallway to a pair of mahogany double-doors. The servant knocked twice, then excused himself, retreating back the way he'd come, leaving a confused and curious Hunter behind.
"Enter."
Hunter opened the door and stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. His eyes widened at the site before him. He stood in a large bedroom dominated by a king-size bed swathed in black silk sheets. Candles burned on every flat surface, casting a mellow glow over the room, the scent of vanilla and lavender tickling his nose.
"What the hell...? Hunter didn't have a chance to finish his thought, for he was tackled from behind and sent tumbling face first into the center of the bed. He was slow to action, which gave his assailant plenty of time to capture his wrists and haul him up to bind them to the headrails. Hunter gasped when he finally saw his attacker.
"Austin! What the devil are you about?"
Steve gave him a wicked smirk, deftly removing the stunned blonde's boots and stockings, dropping them on the floor carelessly. "I'm tired of waiting for you to come to your senses and have decided to take matters into my own hands."
Hunter narrowed his eyes. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"
Steve chuckled softly, unfastening the other man's pants and tugging them down, despite his attempts to prevent him. He clasped each ankle and slipped them into the leather straps looped around the bedposts, moving to unbutton Hunter's shirt. "Relax, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you, if that's what you're worried about."
Hunter quirked a brow. "Really? Then why have you tethered me to your bed?"
"Simply a precaution," Steve answered, standing up and removing his own shirt before resuming his place on the bed. "What I have in mind, I don't want any interference."
"And just what do you have in mind, pray tell?" Hunter's pique faded a little, his curiosity pushing to the fore again. He knew Steve wouldn't truly hurt him, especially rape, which only left him to wonder what he had planned.
Steve smiled, reaching to the nightstand to pick up a silk scarf, folding it lengthwise. "You'll soon find out, My Lord," he said, covering the surprised blonde's eyes and tying the material at the side of his head. He made sure Hunter couldn't see anything before sitting back on his haunches, studying the nude form appreciatively. Christ, but the man was built like a god, all golden and muscular. He swept a hand over his ridged stomach, smiling at the way it contracted and fluttered.
"Do you realize how beautiful you are?" he murmured, stretching out to lay beside him.
Hunter licked his suddenly dry lips. "Am I?" he croaked.
Steve bent his head, brushing his lips over Hunter's, wetting them thoroughly with the tip of his tongue, following the crease, coaxing him to open up. When he did, he darted in and out teasingly, backing off when Hunter tried to engage him more firmly, barely sliding his tongue against his, lightly tracing the ridges in the roof.
"Quit playing with me," Hunter moaned, seeking Steve's lips hungrily, growling when his tormentor evaded him, instead laving the vulnerable column of his throat, nuzzling the hollow where Hunter's pulse thundered.
"You must practice patience, love," Steve murmured, his fingers inscribing intricate patterns on his chest and abdomen, gliding up to spiral around the taut nipples, eventually replacing his fingers with his mouth, nibbling and suckling until Hunter was mewing and curving into the sensations.
"Patience, be damned," Hunter snarled. "Release me right now so I can...can..."
"So you can...? Steve prompted, his hand dipping lower to cup his balls, rolling them in his palm, squeezing and pinching them delicately.
"Huh?" Hunter completely lost his train of thought, gasping shallowly as Steve fondled him, scraping a nail up his scrotum, sending a shudder of pleasure jolting through his lower body.
Steve chuckled quietly, leaning over Hunter to pick up a candle on the bedside table. He gazed into the orange flame for a moment, then tilted it, watching as a few drops of wax trickled onto Hunter's chest.
Hunter hissed in a breath, recoiling at the searing heat on his skin. "Dammit, Steve," he objected gruffly, moaning at the feel of Steve blowing on the abused area, cooing to him as he peeled the hardened wax from him. He whimpered as more liquefied wax dripped onto a sensitive nipple, arching in distress when he repeated this with the other one, completely coating them and leaving it to cool while he proceeded to dribble wax over his torso and thighs, coming perilously close to his crotch. When a drop landed at the base of his shaft, he cried out and bucked sharply.
"Steve...please!" he whined, struggling against his bonds frantically. "No more!"
Steve sighed and relented, putting the candle back on the table and tenderly peeling the dried wax away, brushing the fragments from the bedclothes before plucking up the next item. He rose onto his knees, his darkened blue eyes roaming over Hunter's writhing body, briefly cupping and kneading himself through his butter-soft leather breeches before settling between the blonde's spread legs, leaning forward to begin the next stage of his torture.
Hunter stilled as something grazed his cheek, slowly tracing his jawline to his chin, then his lips, tickling them until he darted his tongue out to lick them, turning his head away. The sensation moved down the exposed skin of his throat, then his chest, where it dallied awhile, teasing his nipples until he was squirming and emitting pleading sounds.
"I just love those kittenish noises your making, baby," Steve rasped, flicking the tip of the feather he was wielding so that it brushed his lower abdomen, causing it to clench and spasm. "They're so sexy." He continued lower, circling the root of his staff, planting a hand on his stomach to keep his hips still as he began drawing the feather up and down the length, lightly brushing it back and forth across the silky tip.
"For God's sake, Steve!" Hunter snapped hoarsely. "If you don't stop, I'll-"
"What do you want me to do, Hunter," he purred, tossing the feather aside and massaging his hips and flanks. "Tell me what you want and I'll do it."
"Untie me," Hunter said immediately.
"Anything but that...at least for now," Steve replied regretfully. "Request something else."
The blonde grumbled for a moment, then said, "Take the blindfold off."
"Now that I will do," Steve concurred, plucking the scarf off Hunter's head and flinging it onto the floor. When Hunter's dark eyes adjusted to the faint light, he stared fixedly at Steve, his lashes shielding his expression.
"What do you mean to do now?" Hunter whispered.
Steve grinned, tilting his head slightly. Hmm...how about this?" He swooped down and sank Hunter's cock down his throat, bobbing roughly on him, barring an arm across his body to immobilize him.
Hunter wheezed in shock, jerking violently, unable to inhale fully. "Ahh, my God!" he panted, twisting and squirming, attempting to both get closer and pull away, the pleasure was so great. "Steve...please...!"
Steve raised his head a little, his blue eyes piercing him as he spoke in a low, velvety voice. "Please what, Hunter? What do you want? Just tell me and I'll do it."
Hunter whimpered plaintively, tilting his hips in need, shuddering uncontrollably. "Please...I...I..."
"Talk to me, baby," he urged, reaching for a small crystal jar on the nightstand, pouring a little of the oil inside on his fingers and, closing it again, set it on the bed next to him.
Hunter's nostrils flared as the scent of lavender wafted toward him and he watched uncomprehendingly as Steve rubbed his fingers together, both warming and thoroughly coating a few on one hand. Everything became clear as Steve eased two digits inside him and he hissed in a breath, eyes widening in disbelief. "Stop that!" he yelped, then lost all ability to breathe-hell, to do anything-as the most intense sensation sizzled through him, making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Steve smiled in satisfaction as he nudged the slight bulge again, adding a third finger and slowly thrusting them in and out, taking his shaft into his mouth once more and sucking gently, gauging when he was on the brink of release before backing off. "How does that feel, sweetheart," Steve inquired, licking up and down the length, nipping his balls and the insides of his thighs, chuckling at Hunter's frenzied wriggling. "That feel good?"
"Don't...please, don't."
Steve delved deeper, curling his fingers to glide against the sweet spot again, rising up to lean over Hunter, his lips hovering just above his. "You don't really want me to stop, do you, Hunter," he purred, quickening his tempo, gratified to feel Hunter's hips grinding into him rhythmically. "Admit it...you like the feel of my fingers inside you...moving in and out, stroking your insides, driving you crazy. Tell me, Hunter...tell me."
Hunter groaned raggedly, helpless to resist as he gazed into Steve's compelling eyes, licking his lips as he opened his mouth. "Please, Steve...fuck me...I need you...now!"
Steve kissed him demandingly as he picked up the jar again and tipped a copious amount of oil into his palm, slicking himself completely before reaching down and deftly releasing both ankles, guiding them around his back. He grasped Hunter's hips and lifted, inching himself slowly into him, his eyes locked intently on his face.
Hunter held his breath, lying rigid as Steve sheathed himself, wincing in pain and discomfort. But he didn't protest, merely stared up at him, chewing on his lower lip until it bled. Steve kissed him gently, lapping up the blood, crooning to him in low tones until he gradually began to relax.
"You all right?" Steve asked.
Hunter nodded shortly, not trusting his voice at the moment.
The other man smiled almost tenderly and began to move, withdrawing until only the head remained inside, then easing back in, twisting his hips a little to brush against that sensitive place that made Hunter mew like a cat.
"Steve...oh, Steve..."
"Ahh, baby...this is what you were made for," Steve growled, rocking himself in and out methodically, threading his fingers through Hunter's hair and spreading it out on the pillows to frame his head like a golden halo. "You were made for receiving a man...receiving me." He levered himself higher so he could look down and watch himself taking Hunter. "Look, Hunter," he husked. "Look at us."
Hunter raised his head and followed Steve's eyes and groaned loudly, fascinated at the sight of Steve sinking into him again and again. He arched as the friction intensified. "Yes...yes...fuck me, Steve! God, it feels so bloody good!"
"Yes, it does, doesn't it, baby?" Steve confirmed, increasing the strength of his thrusts, sliding his hands up Hunter's arms and tugging on the cords until they loosened, grasping his wrists and wrapping them around his neck. "Hold on tight, Hunter. I'm going to love you well now."
Hunter clung to Steve as he cupped his buttocks, pulling him snug against him and began to pound into him, driving deep with each probing lunge. A ragged gasp was rent from Hunter as he writhed in feral delight, meeting his powerful hips eagerly. He raked his nails down Steve's back, his head rolling from side to side, chanting Steve's name breathlessly.
"That's it, Hunter," Steve panted softly, his tempo becoming rough and fast. "Fuck, you're so damned tight...so perfect for me." He shifted himself, grunting when he found Hunter's prostate again, stabbing against it with more force. "Love those sounds...sounds you're making...ahh, Hunter, spill for me. I'm so close...come with me, love!"
Hunter arched and strained, wedging his hand between them to frantically pump himself, a keening whine building in his throat as he felt his climax approaching rapidly. "Steve...please...need...oh, please..."
Steve laughed harshly as their flesh impacted loudly, his strokes growing savage. He joined his own hand to Hunter's and squeezed it, tugging firmly, exhaling sharply as Hunter abruptly roared, bowing high off the bed, slamming against him with enough force to nearly pitch him off.
"Oh, Jesus, Hunter!" Steve moaned, then bellowed as he exploded into Hunter in fierce, hot spasms, feeling his heart stutter at the intensity of his release. He gradually relaxed, falling to lie half-sprawled atop his lover, trying to catch his breath.
Hunter rolled to his side, curling against him, unaware he was whimpering softly, burrowing his face into Steve's neck and shivering uncontrollably.
Steve stroked his back, cooing in his ear, soothing him as he twined his legs with the blonde. When they finally calmed, Steve lifted Hunter's face to his, where he dropped a light kiss to his lips and gazed deeply into his dazed hazel eyes. "Are you all right, love?"
Hunter blinked rapidly a few times, then shook his head as if to clear it. "That was...was..." he stumbled to a halt uncertainly, licking his lips. "I never imagined..."
Steve gave a low chuckle and rolled onto his back, bringing the speechless Hunter with him to lay over him, his cheek resting on his shoulder. "I think I understand what you're trying to say, Hunter," he replied, sifting his fingers through the damp silk of his hair. "And I heartily agree."
They were silent for a long time, and just as Hunter was on the verge of drifting into a sated sleep, Steve spoke again. "I do believe I won the challenge...which makes me the better man, wouldn't you agree?"
Hunter tried to summon anger, or at the very least irritation at his words, but merely sighed and snuggled deeper into the other man's arms. "I concede to you this time, Your Grace," he murmured, yawning hugely, then added, "But there will be other opportunities to prove to you that ultimately, I am your superior."
Steve snorted scornfully. "You arrogant puppy. You just don't know when to acknowledge defeat."
Hunter tilted his head and bit Steve hard in the meaty part of his shoulder, eliciting a grunt of pain. "I'm just as obstinate as you are...perhaps more. I'll never admit defeat even on threat of death."
Steve turned his nose into Hunter's fragrant hair and sighed. "I don't know whether to curse or bless you for that particular trait," he mumbled in a sleepy drawl. "Either way, it certainly makes my dealings with you very interesting."
They fell asleep, limbs tangled together as the candles slowly burned down into shallow puddles of wax.