SleepyHollow2BookBundle (10 page)

 
As John sighed long and low, Brom was grateful for what he had that moment, regardless of the past; it was something he’d sometimes thought he’d never experience again.

“God, that feels good.” John reclined with his head tipped back against a tree trunk, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

But it was nothing compared to the pleasure Brom intended to give him. He stilled his hand and shifted, kneeling in front of John, his knees cushioned by a layer of fallen leaves. Lowering his head into John’s lap, he pressed his lips to the head of his cock.

“Damn.” John drew a shaky breath and quickly released it as Brom took him inside his mouth, running his tongue over the smooth tip, tasting the faint saltiness at the slit and swiping it away with the tip of his tongue, letting the flavor fill his mouth. His own cock hardened as he ran his tongue down the underside of John’s shaft, tracing a thick vein and taking him deep. The blunt tip of John’s cock hit the back of his throat, and it was easy to savor the pressure when John gasped, thrusting his hips in what seemed an involuntary motion, burying himself even deeper in Brom’s mouth.

It was clear that it wouldn’t take John long to reach climax. Resolving to make the brief escalation as enjoyable as possible, Brom cradled John’s balls in one hand. They were hot and heavy, and John moaned when Brom squeezed lightly. He continued to play with them, and John breathed hard, tensing against the tree. His climax rushed hot against the back of Brom’s throat, accompanied by a ragged gasp and a soft curse.

Heat continued to burn through Brom’s veins, even after he released John and withdrew his touch, raising his head from his lap.

“Shall I…” John reached for Brom, his eyes questioning, his fingers searching for an erogenous zone.

“No.” Brom deflected his hand, clutching it briefly within his own before pressing it against the carpet of leaves and underbrush. His cock throbbed, but he wouldn’t allow John to reciprocate. “That won’t be necessary.” This way, if John didn’t wish to see him again, they could part on even terms – or at least, as even as Brom knew how to make them.

John buried an eyetooth in his lower lip, denting the soft flesh. “Perhaps next time we meet, then?”

Brom arched a brow in John’s direction. “You wish to see me again?”

John nodded, still sitting slumped against the tree, his cock still hard and wet, shining dully in the dimness.

Brom gestured toward the knife that lay a short distance away, its blade catching the moonlight and glinting silver. “Being involved with another man is always dangerous.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

* * * * *

Brom urged the young gelding into a canter, noting the smoothness of its gait. The animal would make a fine saddle horse, and with its good conformation, would command a decent price. He’d made the right choice by purchasing it months before, when he’d acquired it cheaply due to its poor manners and even worse state of nutrition. The horse had been steadily putting on weight ever since Brom had brought it home, and had turned out to be a biddable animal, when properly handled. It was time to think about selling the gelding, and yet, his mind was anywhere but on the future of the animal that he was riding in large, lazy circles through the stableyard.

The night before, at the edge of the wood near the Van Tassel farm, John had promised to visit Brom the next day for the purpose of retrieving the books he’d left there on his first day in Sleepy Hollow.
 

Now, Brom glanced regularly over his shoulder, searching the road that wound past the front of his property for any sign of John. Each time he thought of the man – which was at least every few moments – his cock stirred and his mouth watered as he remembered the smooth glide and salty flavor of John’s cock against his tongue, and everything they’d done the night before came back to him in immediate, vivid detail. Naturally, a few moments of recollection were all he could stand before he began to plot what he’d do to John when he saw him next. As he laid a leg into the gelding’s side, guiding it around a wide turn, the silhouette of a horse and rider appeared in the distance.

He’d expected John to come on foot, but instead he rode a rangy grey gelding that Brom recognized as one of the Jansens’ animals. Brom rode out to meet him, slowing his own horse to a trot, walk and eventual halt, sending up little clouds of dust from the road. “Going to use that horse as a pack animal to carry your library?” He chose to make civil conversation instead of letting his unabashedly carnal thoughts spill from his mouth like rainwater from a gutter, though it was a close call between the two.

John smiled, his lips curving invitingly, causing Brom’s cock to twitch, half-hard against his thigh. “Something like that. The Jansens were kind enough to let me borrow Gunpowder, but I’m not sure that I wouldn’t have been better off on foot.” He gazed down critically at the gelding, who was tossing his head, trying to get close enough to Brom’s horse to rub muzzles. “I’ve never met a more stubborn animal. It must have taken me a quarter of an hour to get him to cross the bridge.”

“Well, put him away in the stable for a while and come inside.”

A short while later, Brom led the way into the farmhouse, experiencing a brief bout of déjà vu as he pulled the door shut, sealing himself and John alone together indoors. Though the house was large and otherwise empty, the tension between them simmered, and Brom imagined it as an effervescent thing, broiling over to fill each room, every last nook and cranny of the building. “Your books are upstairs, in the spare room you slept in.” Brom led the way, knowing it would be a while before John would so much as lay a hand on any of the heavy tomes he’d left there.

Their footsteps echoed on the staircase, and Brom imagined that he could almost hear John’s breathing, if he listened carefully. At the top of the steps, Brom’s bedroom door was the first on the right, and he pushed it wide open, looking over his shoulder to lock eyes with John.

In what somehow seemed both the shortest and the longest moment of Brom’s life, they were both hurrying past the threshold, stumbling to the bed and collapsing onto it, their limbs tangling together. Blood surged through Brom’s veins, pounding in his ears and making his cock throb as he pinned John against the mattress and took his lips in a deep, mouth-fucking kiss.

John kissed back with equal passion, and arched, thrusting his hips against Brom’s.

“Christ, John.” Brom ended their kiss as his head began to swim, his thoughts muddling as John’s cock ground against his. Even through their clothing, it felt unbelievably good. Feeling every bit of the tension that had been mounting inside him since he’d pleasured John the night before, Brom thrust back, pressing John deep into the mattress. “Are you sure you’re ready for this—” he flexed his hips once more, unable to resist “—again?” He hated how he’d ended things the first time, but God, he was eager to try again.

“Yes.” John’s cock slid slow and hard up the length of Brom’s as he twisted beneath him, placing his hands in Brom’s hair and burying his fingers in his locks. With surprising force, he pulled Brom close and their mouths collided.

John must have truly forgiven him, for he held nothing back as he slid his tongue into the deep hollow of Brom’s mouth. When it had gone on for a while, and Brom felt so hard he couldn’t stand it, he pulled away, putting a deliberate end to the kiss.
 

With as much speed as he could muster, Brom began to divest John of his clothing. Even the first flash of the man’s collarbone was a thrill, and the more layers he removed, the deeper Brom’s need grew. Tracing the faint stripe of hair that ran down John’s chest and disappeared beneath the waist of his breeches, he slipped a hand inside, unable to resist letting his fingers brush the head of John’s cock, even if only for a moment. The breeches came off quickly, along with shoes and stockings, and at last, Brom had John right where he wanted him – naked, in his bed.

John rose to his knees and pressed his hands to Brom’s chest, his fingers flying over the buttons of Brom’s waistcoat and skimming beneath the layers below, stripping him until they were both completely bare. Kneeling opposite of John on the bed, Brom shivered with desire at the sight of the man across from him. John was all lean muscle, glossy hair and incredible grey eyes. Brom pulled the ribbon from John’s hair, letting it spill over his shoulders. Perfect.

John leaned forward, and his erection brushed Brom’s, skimming down the length of it. Brom groaned and seized John around the waist, pulling him close. With their bodies tight against one another’s and their cocks trapped together, he sighed, letting his breath stream over John’s jaw. Pressing his lips against it, he kissed a trail from near John’s throat to his lips, one of which he took between his teeth, biting lightly.

John moaned, digging his fingers into Brom’s shoulders and leaning against him. His breath was hot, and his lip trembled in response to Brom’s bite. An incoherent sound rose from the depths of his throat – a curse, or perhaps a plea, it was impossible to tell. But Brom could feel John’s enjoyment radiating from him, causing him to grip Brom’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. He let go of John’s lip and licked where he had bitten, smoothing his tongue over John’s slick mouth and past his teeth, invading the wet recess beyond.

John kissed back, bit back and moaned, flexing his hips against Brom’s, causing their cocks to press together with unbearable pressure. Brom was left feeling bereft when John pulled away, panting, his lips inflamed. He had a wild look in his grey eyes, and for a moment they locked with Brom’s. Then he dropped onto all fours, facing away from Brom, who was still on his knees. In one quick motion, John thrust back, pressing his ass against Brom’s groin in demand.

“Christ,” Brom breathed, his balls drawing up tight against his body as he looked down at John’s bowed head, perfect back and tightly-curved ass, which was as snug against his groin as it could possibly be. His cock rested on top, thick and deep-pink and aching, and it would only take a moment to put it inside John. “Christ.” He ran a hand wistfully over one of John’s hips, letting his fingertips skim over one half of his ass and dip into the cleft between to touch him, teasing his entrance and groaning when John thrust back against him, nearly causing Brom’s fingers to breach him, to delve inside. “No, not like this.” He wasn’t about to risk making the same mistake he had last time. “On your back.”

After a moment’s pause, John sank onto the mattress, rolling over to face Brom.

Brom lowered himself on top of John, settling between his thighs. “I want to see your face when I take you – I want to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s you.” He reached over the edge of the bed with one hand, retrieving the small glass bottle he’d set on top of the bedside table in preparation for what was about to happen.

John was breathing hard beneath Brom, his eyes still wide, alight with a feral gleam that Brom recognized as the burning, undeniable need for release. He wasted no time in pulling the stopper out of the bottle and pouring a little oil into his palm before rising onto his knees again and smoothing it over his cock, making it gleam. This wet, he’d slide inside John’s tight channel in an instant. His cock throbbed at the thought, and his balls ached at the sight of John sprawled before him, open and ready. With his oil-slicked hand, he fondled John’s balls before reaching below, slipping a finger into him.

John arched against the mattress and thrust down with his hips, burying Brom to the knuckle inside him. With a feeling of relief, Brom added another finger – clearly, their first time hadn’t made John reluctant to let Brom enter him again. In fact, John’s channel tightened around Brom’s fingers, gripping them tight and making him wish he’d thrust his cock inside instead. Withdrawing, he lowered himself between John’s legs again.

Brom took his cock in his hand and guided it inside John’s body, locking gazes with the man as he slid inside him in one long, slow thrust.

John squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, wrapping his arms tightly around Brom’s neck. The embrace increased the heat burning inside Brom, and he leaned into it, pressing a brief kiss against John’s lips as he rocked his hips. “How is it?” His voice came out rougher than he’d expected, as if John’s hold was choking him from the inside. Maybe it was.

“As good as the first time,” John breathed. “No, better.”

Brom thrust again, a shiver of delight running down his spine when John writhed beneath him, embracing him even more tightly. “I didn’t think the first time was good for you.” Brom lifted a hand and smoothed a thumb across John’s cheekbone, tracing the faint scrape that reddened it.

“It was. At the end I was confused, angry – but it felt good. And now I know the truth.” He bore down with his hips, sinking Brom to the root.

“Damn it,” Brom breathed. “You’ll make me spill myself too soon. Be still.” He tried not to sound as if John’s admission of pleasure had him glowing from the inside – which it did – as he unwrapped John’s arms from around his neck and pressed them against the mattress, pinning them down. He missed the feeling of John wrapped tightly around him, but liked looking down at him while he was unable to move much, other than a faint rocking of his hips that sent fresh heat surging through Brom’s entire being.
 

Brom thrust hard into him and groaned in satisfaction when John cried out. Taking the cue, he thrust harder, faster, his heartbeat escalating along with John’s gasps. As the intensity built, he kept his gaze on John’s face, refusing to give himself the chance to forget exactly which man he was making love to. The sight of John’s damp lips, parted in ecstasy, and the dark lashes fringing his closed eyes, kept Brom in the present, and the ghosts of the past at bay.