The Beast of Bodmin Moor
“G’night.” Phin sighed, hoping it didn’t sound as…bereft as he felt.
He was a bit miffed with himself, because Jack was Here. In Phin’s bed, beside him. Almost naked. Wanting more was being greedy. Too Needy. Needy was not sexy at all, he knew this…which was very prob’ly why Jack didn’t want him. Despite his gallant attempts to be kind about it.
So kind, that he’d even claimed to want, no need, Phin Too Much…and not in the too-much-too-soon sort of way deemed so unseemly. That was too befuddling to fathom. If Phin wanted something too much, he couldn’t do concentrating on anything else. At all. That tended to make folk huffy so he did try to pretend otherwise. Peace o’mind was precious…and big fat fibs called white lies don’t count. Those are being considerate.
Jack had snaffled Phin’s robe when he’d needed something to wear, so why hadn’t he taken what was being offered so freely, if he wanted Phin? Too freely, was p’raps the problem. Phin was supposed to do ‘playing hard to get’ to tickle someone’s fancy, wasn’t he? It was a bit bloomin’ late to start now, even if he knew how the bejeezus to go about it. Lying-starkers-in-bed-with-a-stiffy didn’t seem the most subtle of starts, on the whole. Even with all the will in the world (and Phin possibly had a smidge too much, according to…most), he couldn’t sheer-force-of-will Jack to want him.
He was still pondering this when Jake surged forwards all-of-a-sudden. Snatching Phin’s breath away in a literal and metaphorical manner so excessive it would have been swoon-worthy, had Phin been standing up. Rather than flat on his back starkers beneath a nearly naked and surely needy Jack. Unless he was smuggling a substantial cosh about his person, perchance Phin got too frisky—despite having ensured that he could scarce move. This, on accounts of being squished by the wondrous weight of Jake’s body and boggled by the alacrity of his ambush. Blitzed by a sheet lightning bolt of bliss that obliterated all-but-him. This...was all Phin had ever craved; a passion so intense it could silence the white noise shriek of his senses…sweep aside the itchy insistence on more with a lust that scorned its very existence.
Jake’s breath fluttered across Phin’s neck, followed by lips that locked there. Shivers sparked along his spine, scorching through his system, leaving him buttery boned and breathless and certain that there was no more than this. Than him. The heady suction tugged far lower down, even as it dragged the blood to the surface. Phin could feel the bruise blossoming and thrilled to it; a bit as a keepsake…but mostly because it seemed Jake was intent on marking him. This was somehow sexier than tasting himself in the kiss…that he wanted to. Had Jake told the truth, after all? If he had, then why was a lie lurking in its shadows?
Did it matter, when he was here and hard and oh, so heavenly heavy? All Phin had ever wanted was splayed across his naked self, seeping sex from every pore. A man strong enough to sweep the scratchy aside….with an appetite to match its too muchness. Phin had waited a very long time for Jake. Sooo, it was a tad likely that he might crave sex stuff as excessively as his favourite food. In a too full for anything else sort of fashion.
Phin’s spine was hell-bent on arching off the bed but that tilted his bum back—away—the wrong way. When he tried shoving his hips Jackwards, he made a sound so rumbly it vibrated against Phin’s chest. He couldn’t help but suspect that splaying his palm a smidge lower might help matters, so he slid it down to the small of Jake’s back, and pressed…yesss. But blimey. The base of Jake’s spine was so concave that the convex curve beneath was mind-boggling.
A swift flick through his freeze-frame stash coshed Phin with the fact he’d never actually seen Jack from behind. Or even in profile, sans snaffled bathrobe. He’d caught glimpses here ‘n’ there as Jack moved around, but you can’t ask someone to stand still so’s you can stare at their tush. That wasn’t po-lite at all.
Jack’s waistband was very in the way. Phin was starting to really hate Jake’s pants. That was a bit of a fib, in time-scale terms—and severity of dislike ones—but loathed them with every fibre of his being possibly counted as a smidge excessive.
P’raps…Phin edged his little finger under the elastic and stilled, breath abated, but Jake was intent on the tantalizing trickle of his tongue across Phin’s collarbone and didn’t seem to mind…so… Afore Phin knew it, his palm was splayed across the most magnificent mound of muscle imaginable. As taut ‘n’ tight as its skin was silken. Crikey...Phin’s throat may have made a racket that suggested it was smuggling a strangled cat.
“Jake…please…” The craving felt as if it was going to choke him; Phin could scarce catch his breath. The next bit was so brain blitzing it felt a helluva lot like Jake’s pants vamooshed. Or combusted. Phin was too bedazzled to tell the difference. One second there they were; the next, his cock was crushed to a scorch of rigid flesh as hot, heavy, as the breath at his ear.
“Phinngh…sstop me…hurtchoo—” Grit-strewn gibberish that cut off on a raspy gasp, but Phin had forgotten to do listening so he didn’t miss much. “Promise…” Jake groaned, dragging in a jagged breath while bracing his forearms on the bed.
“’Kay…” That was a teeny fib. Jake let his head fall forwards in a tickle of hair and gave his hips a quick twitch. “Ahh!” Phin bit down on his bottom lip, screwing his eyes tight shut, willing his cock not to have a hyperreaction that was farrrr too much, too soon. Another twitch that felt…a lot like a testing testing tap on a microphone. Phin held his breath, hoping Jake didn’t stop, never stopped.
He did not. Phin’s lungs offloaded themselves in one helluva rush when Jake unleashed a snap of hips so sublime it cocked a snook to circumspection and all such stuff ‘n’ nonsense. Making a racket was marvellous but Phins entire self hadn’t been squished beneath Jake’s in a cock sandwich of brain-moggling too-much-never-enoughness. The rolling, winding, glide of Jake’s hips was the most mellifluous melody on Earth; a symphony of sensation that scoffed at the very existence of excess. Chewed it up and spat it out with nary a care for seemly, nor the scales themselves.
Every note pitch-perfect—as if Jack had hot-wired himself to Phin’s system—hypertuned to the witterings of his lips, the tiniest twitch of hips. Making a mockery of the fears that held Jake so hostage. Fears proved foundless—unfathomable—by the intensity of his focus and sheer poetry of his spine. These airy-fairy-thoughts wafted along in the wake of those as visceral as the need gnawing Phin’s guts…as guttural as the groans clawing the walls and the blood boiling through his veins. The world behind his eyelids was a kaleidoscope of white hot sensation that scoffed at the spectrum itself. Awash with light-shot scarlet bright, blinding in its brilliance.
“Y’okay?” Jake gasp sounded as if it was tugged too tight. Okay? If Phin had ever felt better, he sure hadn’t forgotten to remember it.
“Yessss. Jake…I-I…” The rest melted away when Jack let rip a fulsome snap that shredded the last sliver of restraint Phin was clutching tighter than the sheets snarled in his fists. “Jaaakke!” scored the walls when a cascade of bliss shattered his brain while battering its way through his body . Jake must’ve been holding on by the skin of his teeth, ‘cos Phin had scarce snatched a breath when he shuddered and stilled, trembling as a second hot rush of sticky spilled across Phin’s skin. This, as his name resounded around his head…the most exquisite echo he’d ever heard. A sumptuous sigh caressed his chest when Jake’s lush weight slumped onto it. His hair was stuck to his face, slick with sweat, so Phin lifted a tentative hand to smooth the tangled tendrils aside.
“Phin, are y—”
“No…” he interrupted, which was rude, but Phin done lots that was rude of late and Jake hadn’t seemed to mind. “I’m not hurt…” he murmured, still stroking. Ditto.
“Y’wouldn’t fess up if you were…” Jake chuntered.
“You’d know.” Phin shrugged. “I know you would. You just wanted to hear it out loud, as if that made it more true. It’s as true as the fact I would be just as glad it had happened if it cost me my last breath. So there.”
“Don’t say that…” Jack groaned.
“So there, or popping my clogs? They were facts so I ‘fessed up…you have a bit of a bee in your bonnet about admitting stuff.”
“Don’t tempt…fate. ”
“Why? D’you think I’ll get smited?” Phin did his best not to grin. It was quite dark in the nook, though.
“I think you’d dare the devil himself.”
“Only if it was worth it,” Phin owned, while he was on a roll, an’ all. “…Or p’raps, if I was bored.”
“Phin…” Jake growled. A despairing one. Not at himself.
“It’s very sexy when your voice goes all growly.” Oops…the snowball situation was getting out of hand. Ah well, at least the question burning a hole in Phin’s head hadn’t made a bid for freedom.
“Can we do that next?” Oh. Dear.
“Christ…” Jake let his forehead crash onto Phin’s chest. With a groan like the clang of a dungeon door.
“Oops…should I not have said that?”
“I need a drink. And a gun.”
“My mum always said I’d get myself shot.” Phin sighed. It sounded regretful.
“I didn’t intend to shoot you.” Jake humphed.
“Well, I’m glad I haven’t got a gun then. I don’t want to die a virgin.”
“WHAT!?” A whiplash reaction as swift as it was fulsome.
“I haven’t ever—”
“I know that...but why the hell would you die a virgin? You are the most ench—”
“I knew you’d know…” Phin butted in, too abashed to wait for the worst. “I’m sorry…was it very dread—”
“God No!” Jake snapped, the blue ablaze in the semi-darkness. “Don’t ever think that. Phin, you drive me demented.”
“I am very irritating.” Phin acknowledged, stifling a sigh that would sound ‘sad’, when he was simply telling the truth.
“No! I meant…oh, shit.” Jake’s fingers snagged in his hair when he tried to rake them through it. “I meant…demented in the desperate sense. I’ve never craved—” Jake broke off a bit abruptly to prompt; “You didn’t answer my question. What did you mean about dying a virgin?”
“If you shot yourself.” Phin didn’t beat about the bush, in hopes of hearing what Jake had never craved, all the sooner.
“Y’what?!” he gaped, agog. Heavenknows why, that was a fact, pure and simple. Jack sure couldn’t wind his hips like that if he was dead. “You’d meet someone else—someone far better than me—you can’t say that!”
“I won’t—I don’t want them—I just did,” Phin rattled off, with a shrug. This was the most pointless chat on the planet. His mind was not a pair of pants or a jumper.
“Phin, listen to me. I don’t want you to feel—”
“And I don’t want to be a virgin, but you won’t listen…”
“Grr…y’self. I thought you wanted a drink?”
“I do,” Jake huffed.
“Then stop huffing ‘n’ puffing so I can go and fetch it.”
“You’re impossible.” Jack snuffed out a fringe fluttering sigh and hefted himself off Phin’s body. The cold cosh of loss was more than a mite abated by the liberal smears of sticky adorning Phin’s skin. Theirs. Not his. He was p’raps grinning like a loon when he lowered himself to the floor.
After grabbing a couple of cloths, Phin dipped them in the bowl and squeezed one out for Jack, then stood under the nook and held it aloft, waving it like a peace flag. Jake was chuckling when he whipped it from Phin’s fingers, which stretched the grin to ear-licking levels. After pouring a two tumblers of brandy Phin raised them above his head and waited for Jake to retrieve them before clambering back up.
The fact it was tricky to recall the last time he’d crawled into bed not wearing half his nightcap was a cherry on top, it must be admitted. On that particular topic…it might be best not to confess the scoundrelly shimmer of hope in his heart…