The First Bloom of Winter, page 14
“Oh, Christ, save me!”
Holden felt his passage clench and loosen around Richard hardness as the sensation traveled from his cock to the utmost reaches of his extremities. Not even in his and Tommy’s most abandoned explorations had they done anything remotely as scandalous as this. In truth, Holden had not even considered such a thing was possible, but he couldn’t deny Amaryllis’s skill. His focus shifted completely to Amaryllis, and his pain of being taken drifted to the background of his awareness.
The diversion, if such had been Amaryllis’s intent, proved an unqualified success. Richard took instant advantage of Holden’s distraction. After grabbing Holden’s thigh in a secure grip, he surged forward with a powerful thrust, burying his cock to the hilt in Holden’s quivering passage as Holden cried out in shock.
“Ohhhh!” Holden reached out again, but this time it was to grab hold of Richard’s arm to hold himself in place lest he be pushed backward across the bed.
“See? I told you. All you needed to do was relax.” Gardenia smiled down at Holden and bent to kiss him lightly on his slack, quivering lips. “Amaryllis really is talented with his mouth, isn’t he?”
Holden moaned his agreement. He glanced down at the head bobbing between his thighs in awe, caught between fearing that Amaryllis might choke and praying he never stopped. An inappropriate giggle burst from his lips as he realized he’d finally found a way to silence the sharp-tongued lad.
Amaryllis released him again with a careful application of tongue and a threatening scrape of teeth. Richard slowly pulled his cock free, and Holden could feel his greedy channel tightening to keep it inside. A slow lick up the underside of his own cock was followed by a soft bite to the leaking tip, confusing him as to which incredible sensation he should concentrate on first. Amaryllis swirled his tongue around the bulbous head and lapped at the thin fluid that beaded up from the slit in response. After a moment’s appreciation for his handiwork, Amaryllis began the entire cycle over again, drawing Holden’s cock deep inside his mouth so he could milk it with his throat.
Dazed, Holden drew his gaze up from where Amaryllis was so busily occupied to where Richard labored smoothly immediately beyond. He stared helplessly, mesmerized by the flex and shift of muscles beneath the sun-kissed skin of Richard’s ridged stomach and corded hips. He couldn’t see Richard’s cock, but he could feel every inch as it relentlessly filled him over and over again. Holden continued to watch through partially closed eyes until Richard struck something deep inside of him that overcame all his senses.
“Ahhh!” The cry was ripped from his throat as lightning coursed through his body. Richard scored another hit, and Holden tightened his grip on Richard’s arm, desperate for something to anchor him before he could drown in the tumult of sensation that flooded him. “By all that’s unholy, what did you do?” Another thrust pushed him back along the mattress despite the hands preventing him from retreating, though all thoughts of escape had long fled. He clutched the silk that fell within his reach, uncaring that his frantic grip might rip the seams of his friends’ beautiful gowns.
“That’s a nice spot, isn’t it?” Peony’s amusement was evident in his tone. “The blokes that come to see us can’t always find it, but when they do, it’s almost worth the trouble of humoring them.”
“Yes!” Holden didn’t know if he was replying to Peony’s question or merely announcing that Richard was not nearly so unlearned as those callow gents. “Nnnggg! Don’t stop, I beg you!”
Richard made no verbal reply save for his labored breathing, but he obliged by increasing the speed of his thrusts. Holden opened his eyes and looked up at the man claiming him so thoroughly, his breath stolen by the blatant devotion stamped on Richard’s rugged features. His expression suggested that he found this no mere chore, but an endeavor he was all too willing to undertake. Yet Holden suspected Richard was looking at him as more than a warm body in which to assuage his lust. He suddenly felt as though he was someone Richard wanted to protect, someone he wanted to cherish. Perhaps, even someone worthy of his lo—
“Ahh!” Holden’s eyes fluttered closed as he shut off the dangerous trajectory of his thoughts. His neck arched as he instead allowed himself to be consumed by the determined pull of Amaryllis’s lips and the commanding invasion of his sentinel’s hard cock. He turned his head to one side then the other, back and forth as if to silently deny that he was on the verge of losing himself yet again.
He sobbed in distress when the mouth devouring his cock disappeared, but it was soon replaced by the grip of strong fingers as they wrapped around the throbbing shaft. The unknown hand worked him with slow pulls timed to the rhythm of Richard’s hips, stroking him until his own began to keep time. He struggled to meet each upward thrust, too unashamed in his need to despair that he was fucking himself with the very object he had once found so terrifying. There was nothing for him but the desire to find the release toward which he rushed headlong.
It came upon him suddenly, starting with the clench of his balls as they tightened in readiness and ending in the unstoppable rush of hot fluid that spurted from his cock in a pulsing torrent. He screamed as his release poured through him, his passage gripping the cock inside him as though he would die if it abandoned him. If this was to be his penance for his transgressions against God and his father, he welcomed it without reservation. A wanton, Richard had called him. In that instant, he could deny the charge no more than he could deny his own name, though he hardly knew it any longer.
Who are you?
The question rose up from somewhere deep within him, filtering up through the riotous cacophony of sensations that assailed him. He dimly recalled a lad once known as Holden, but that person was gone. Holden had been a weak creature with no knowledge of his own power or his own nature. He could never know the delight of an illicit touch or the pleasure incited with a burning gaze. No, that innocent boy had no place here among these lurid flowers, and so he must become someone else.
The answer came to him in a whisper that spoke with his own voice.
“Aster.”
A flood of warmth filled Aster as Richard groaned his own release. He grunted softly as a heavy body dropped on top of him, surrounding him with the scent of heated skin and masculine sweat. A moment of silence passed, broken only by ragged breaths. Slowly he felt his legs being lowered to the bed, his hips sore with the strain of being held aloft for so long. He kept his eyes shut, lacking the energy to open them. His back tingled, the sensation originating at the point between the cheeks of his ass where he could still feel the pounding of Richard’s cock even though it had already slipped free. He lay motionless as the mattress dipped before rising slightly, indicating the removal of something from its surface.
“He’d best not have ruined my hard work,” Amaryllis complained. Aster felt a tug at the kimono, which lay trapped beneath his wrecked form.
Hibiscus chuckled. “I’m sure it will be fine. He can rest here for a while, Gardenia, before you take him back to his room.”
“Mr. Leslie shouldn’t have to give up his bedchamber.” Whatever kindness Amaryllis had sought to bestow with his earlier assistance was clearly rescinded. Bare feet padded softly across the floor indicating his retreat.
“He’s staying in yours tonight isn’t he, Amaryllis, so why complain?”
“Hmmph.” A door opened and closed sharply, cutting off whatever further reply Amaryllis intended to give Hibiscus’s taunt.
“He hates it when Mr. Leslie takes an interest in anyone but him.” Gardenia spoke from close by, and Aster felt fingers rifle softly through his tangled hair. “Best to just ignore him.”
“You did very well tonight, Aster.” The shyness had returned to Peony’s tone, though Aster knew he wouldn’t be fooled again so easily as to his true nature. A soft kiss fell against his cheek.
“Good night, Aster.” Hibiscus spoke from near the foot of the bed, his voice gentle with none of the sardonic air he usually affected.
Aster looked up when Richard rose on his forearms from where he’d collapsed after finding his own release and regarded him with a searching gaze. “Are you all right?” Richard asked softly, grunting in acknowledgment when he received a languid nod in reply. “Then I should probably go too. Gardenia will look after you.”
Richard began to roll away, but Aster grabbed his wrist, stopping him before he could sit up. “Please stay,” he whispered before gasping softly in surprise as an unanticipated tear ran down his cheek. Richard stopped its course with a gentle finger, his expression shadowed with concern.
“Whatever is the matter?” Gardenia asked. “Are you in much pain?”
Aster shook his head. “No,” he said, able to reassure his friend at least as to his physical state. “But I can never go back again, can I?”
Gardenia kissed the cheek Peony had missed and pushed Aster’s sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead. “I’m afraid not. But I, for one, am glad. I would miss you if you went away.”
Aster smiled despite himself and rolled over to his side, curling into Richard’s larger form. He closed his eyes in secret contentment when strong arms encircled him.
“Go on, Gardenia,” Richard said. “I will look after him. Unless,” he added uncertainly, “you’d prefer he be the one to stay.”
Aster shook his head, unwilling to relinquish the closeness between them even to wish his friend a good night. He had abandoned himself, and he was under no delusion concerning the part Richard had played in his transformation. If anyone else had been the one to strip him of his innocence, he might have felt violated and ruined. As it was, he wasn’t certain what to feel. He knew only that he didn’t want Richard to let him go.
“See you in the morning, my dearest Aster.”
Aster sighed as he heard the door close behind Gardenia, leaving him and Richard alone atop Leslie’s decadently expansive bed. Richard’s large hand slowly stroked his back, and Aster gradually succumbed to exhaustion of the emotional and physically taxing journey on which he’d just embarked. His final thoughts as he drifted off to sleep were how safe he felt in Richard’s arms and how he feared that, in his heart, he would always be Richard’s flower alone.
PEARL LOVE has been writing since she was a kid, but it was the pretty boys who frolic around in her head who finally convinced her to pursue it seriously. She’s a Midwest transplant who currently thrives in the hustle and bustle of the nation’s capital. A jack of many genres, she enjoys just about any type of story, so long as in the end, the boy gets the boy. Pearl is a Marvel fangirl and owns a ridiculous stash of yarn and knitting needles.
E-mail: pearllove925@gmail.com
Website: http://pearllovebooks.com
Facebook: Pearl Love (pearllove925@gmail.com)
Twitter: @pearllovebooks
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Burnt Offerings
Juicy Bits (Dreamspinner Anthology)
Men of Steel (Dreamspinner Anthology)
To Be Human • To Be Loved
THE GARDEN
The Uncertain Customer
The First Bloom of Winter
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
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Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The First Bloom of Winter
© 2015 Pearl Love.
Cover Art
© 2015 Paul Richmond.
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Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
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Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-360-8
First Edition August 2015
Printed in the United States of America
Pearl Love, The First Bloom of Winter
