[Adult] I don't wanna be alone

[Arthur Beckwith]

"You didn't think it would get this cold in Somerset in January?" Arthur teased him as he lounged on his side across the blanket, head propped on his hand. There was only the golden light from the lantern, but it was enough to admire Cash's long, lean body as he rummaged about the space. Despite the chill and smelling strongly of horse, it was a pleasant place, Arthur thought — A secret enclave bathed in flickering firelight, just for them.

Arthur pushed himself up to accept the blanket, and then scuffed out a soft chuckle as he rolled over and positioned himself prone across their little makeshift bed. "You're so attentive," he said, smiling against the words — Cash had a way of wanting to see to his care, certainly, but Cash also had a way of admiring the sight of his come dripping from Arthur's well-worked arse.

The extra folded blanket Arthur used as a pillow, and laid his chin atop his crossed arms as he obediently bent his knees and spread his thighs apart. "Why are you speaking French?" he asked, and wiggled his hips a little.

[Cassius Boone]

"I ain't ever spent a winter in England," he defended, laughing. He probably should've planned better, but admittedly the set-up had also been a little bit derailed by the arrival of a most distracting man.

Said distracting man was even more distracting like this, splayed out, pretty as a damn picture. Cash probably should have been embarrassed for how quickly he knelt, how quickly he grabbed those sweet cheeks to pull them apart – but he wasn't, wouldn't ever be when it came to this man. Arthur was beautiful, deserved to be treated like he was beautiful.

"Your own fault for being too damn pretty," he gave voice to his thoughts, voice low, his eyes locked on the mess he'd made of Arthur's hole. He did have the handkerchief, but... "It's what we speak back in Louisiana, mon beau." A simplistic answer, but the only he gave before swiping the flat of his tongue over that red-rimmed and come-dripping hole.

[Arthur Beckwith]

For some reason, Arthur had in his mind that the French had settled Canada, but that Cash was from the Southwestern part of America. Expression screwed up in confusion, he'd just opened his mouth to further inquire when he felt the slick warmth of Cash tonguing against his arse, and he made a startled, strangled sound instead, shoulders hiking up toward his ears.

So much for having a serious conversation.

"You—" he ground out, half laughed, and couldn't keep his knees from shifting to push his back half up a little to meet that unrepentant mouth. "This—" Faltering again, he hummed as he bit against his lip. "This is an ambush, Mr Boone."

That he'd not ejaculated while they'd been fucking hadn't troubled him any, given he'd felt deliciously orgasmic regardless, but it was beginning to trouble him now, his perpetually heedless cock stiffening where it was trapped between the blanket and his abdomen.

[Cassius Boone]

He couldn't help it – Cash laughed at the reaction he'd garnered, disrupting the attention he'd planned on lavishing Arthur with. "Oh, is it mercy you want then, Mr. Beckwith?" He'd never get it regardless, but Cash turned his head slightly, opened his mouth wide to gently bite one of those full cheeks.

"Real sorry to inform you that I ain't the merciful type." Humor laid thick in his voice, and he punctuated the sentiment with another hungry lick, and then another, until he fairly had his face buried in that pert, lovely ass. Cash truly had thought that Arthur had finished as well, from how well-fucked he'd looked; a wandering hand instead found a very hard cock, and the smooth skin of his belly sticky only in the way of sweat, not drying come.

Annoyed with himself and his lack of attention, the American finally pulled back with another nip to the valet's buttock. "Turn over, baby, I wanna suck you off." It was the least he could do, really, after the hell of a ride Arthur had given him.

[Arthur Beckwith]

There were certainly other suggestions Arthur could have made to tend to his stiffened prick, but instinct had him on his back before he could even conceive of suggesting them, knees bent and thighs spread wide. "I'm all right, you know," he murmured, and reached to card his fingers through Cash's hair. "I'd've been perfectly content were it not for your roving tongue."

This, he knew, would fall on deaf ears, but bore saying regardless — He was in no need of guilt-driven head from anyone.

"Fuck me with your fingers too?" he asked, voice quiet and almost shy, hips already starting a shallow rhythm against Cash's hand. "I feel so empty without you in me, Daddy."

[Cassius Boone]

It wasn't about content. If it were only about that, the both of them could have been content being alone; content only in warming beds; content in never allowing themselves to fall into this wild and deep thing growing between them. No, merely leaving Arthur content wasn't enough.

The request shouldn't have surprised Cash at this point. Still, it sent a shock of need through him; prompted a low groan. "Shit, baby, soon as we get back to London, I'm gonna buy you a big ol' plug, maybe a nice toy just my size as well. Keep you full even when I can't be with you."

Obedient as always when it came to the valet's wants, he spat on his fingers before pushing two of them into Arthur's hungry ass. His tongue lapped up the length of that gorgeous cock, and then he suckled gently on the head of it as two fingers became three. He'd already fucked the other man open, and had little doubt he could take it.

Not so idly, Cash considered just how many fingers Arthur could take; maybe even the consideration of more, with time and lube aplenty. For now he'd content himself, but later... "C'mon, baby, come in Daddy's mouth," he encouraged before returning his mouth to Arthur's length, bobbing along it with eagerness, if not the fine skill he knew the valet was capable of.

[Arthur Beckwith]

Another shuddering laugh pushed from Arthur's throat, propelled principally by the idea of how easy they both were when it came to spouting and being affected by the other's filthy mouth. "Only if you're watching," he swore, biting against his smile as his head fell back against the makeshift pillow. "Want you to see me take every inch—"

Fingers pressed him open again, and his voice strangled, hands slapping against the blanket and fingers curling into the fabric. "Oh Daddy, just— Just like that—" he bit out, straining to keep his hips still so as to not choke the hot mouth sliding over his shaft.

"Fuck, Daddy," he whined, hips shifting despite himself, voice breathless and shamelessly sissified. Let it never be said he didn't thoroughly enjoy indulging his partner's particular cravings. "Make me come, Daddy. Fuck me so hard— I wanna come hard for you—" Chest hitching, he shuddered, knew he was in danger of softening again but could barely speak, much less instruct Cash to remove his talented fingers, even as Arthur's prick began leaking over his tongue.

[Cassius Boone]

Now there was a pretty idea: Watching Arthur fuck himself stupid, all for an audience consisting only of Cash. It wasn't unappealing, not in the least, though he wasn't sure how well he'd do just watching. Still, it was enough to draw a hungry moan from him, though it terminated into a muffled laugh with how well the valet responded to the intrusion of Cash's fingers.

It wasn't just bedtalk; if money were no objection, if there was no need to work or leave the house, he'd never let this man out of their bed. (And what a fucking thought that was: their bed.)

Looking up at Arthur, or as much as the position would allow, Cash did his best to give his baby what he wanted. If the salve had been closer, he probably would've indulged his curiosity in just how much Arthur could handle up his hungry ass. As it was, he fucked the man on his fingers as best he could, the motions rough. He refused to pull that sweet cock from his lips again; instead pressed forward to push as much of it down his throat as he could, reflexively swallowing around it as his eyes watered a bit from his efforts.

For all his efforts, though, the American simply wasn't as talented as his slutty little lover, and gagged around the length of him. Pulling back, blinking through his watering eyes, he hummed around the cock in his mouth, hand stroking what didn't fit (for the moment, anyway). Clearly he'd need to practice more, and surely Arthur wouldn't mind terribly if he asked for advice later.

[Arthur Beckwith]

The muscles of Arthur's thighs jumped with a sharp catch of his breath, and he arched back against the blanket, the arc of his spine rigid as the rest of him followed into a full-body quake. Eyes squeezed closed, startled mouth wide, he gasped and came, and came, and didn't stop shaking even after he'd spilled every last drop into Cash's waiting mouth. His knees pulled up, fitful and twitching, hips rolling yet against the fingers in his arse even as he curled half onto his side.

"Please, Daddy," he whimpered open-mouthed against the blanket, angling his thigh up as he reached back to grasp his own arse and spread himself wide. "Oh fuck— Yes yes yes—," he choked out before his vocabulary devolved utterly into a shuddering hum.

[Cassius Boone]

Never would Cash have expected this explosive of an orgasm, and the first shot from Arthur's cock caught him off-guard. Pulling back slightly, his hands continued to work feverishly through the wild ride, even when he had to temporarily abandon stroking Arthur's cock to push his hips back to where they were wanted. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked every drop that the valet had to give, rough fingers still plundering his hole especially as the little whore reached to spread his own cheeks.

Only when Cash was certain that he'd received every drop of come Arthur had to give did he relent to his own renewed lust. He wasn't as hard as he felt he should be, wasn't as hard as he'd been when fucking the valet, but he also considered it a minor miracle that he was already this hard again. Pulling his fingers from Arthur's ass, he instead pushed his renewed erection into the hole, moaning through the mouth of spend that he was equally quick to push against Arthur's lips, eager to share it in a wild, sloppy kiss.

Pushing his slick hand between them, he stroked Arthur's cock roughly and quickly, desperate to see just how desperate his sweet boy could get. "Fuck, gonna– fuck," he ground out against Arthur's lips, until the words devolved into choked-off, grunting gasps as he put a second – admittedly quite smaller – load into that hot ass.