The Madmen of Beldon Hall Page 9

  “Holy shit,” Byron slurred before he fell forward and Alastair caught him and held him tight against his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. He tilted his head and sucked on the corner of Byron’s neck and moaned rapturously as the crisp and softly soapy taste of his sweat coated his tongue. Byron turned his head and sighed into Alastair’s hair. “Are you alright?” he asked and Alastair snorted as his fingertips skated up and down his spine lazily.

  “I’m so much better than alright. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good or this exhausted before,” he murmured then yawned as his body became heavier. He breathed deep and the intoxicating scent of Byron, sated and drowsy, filled his senses and he pressed one last kiss to his skin before he lost consciousness.

  Chapter 23

  “Good Morning.” It was a soft huff of breath in his ear and Alastair’s lips curved as he wrapped his arms around a warm, hard body and hummed drowsily. He wasn’t ready to wake up or let go.

  “Sleeeep, Byron,” he slurred as he drug his tongue along his cheek until he found his lips. “They won’t be bringing breakfast for hours,” Alastair murmured and he felt a soft laugh against his lips.

  “I can’t sleep. Last night was so amazing and I’m too happy and excited,” he explained and Alastair purred as his hands glided down Byron’s back. They trailed over taut muscles before closing around the tight globes of Byron’s ass and Alastair’s cock tingled and throbbed as it became alert.

  “It was amazing,” he agreed as he curled his leg around Byron’s hip and rocked beneath him. His hard-on pressed against Byron’s and they both groaned. Byron’s fingers twisted in Alastair’s hair as he lapped at his lips.

  “I need you,” he breathed as his tongue traced Alastair’s lip. “Fuck me and I’ll leave you alone,” Byron begged and Alastair shook his head.

  “My turn. I need to feel you inside of me,” he demanded and he finally forced his eyelids open. His erection became painful as the soft light from the window slanted across Byron’s face and chest. His eyes were so clear and large and a faint stubble spread across his jaw as his lips tilted into a cocky grin.

  “I was so sure you were strictly a top. You’re so…” Byron winced as he searched for the right word.

  “Uptight and boring?” Alastair offered flatly. He knew he could be a bit of a stick but he didn’t need to be reminded of the fact while he was trying to get laid.

  “No! You’re so strong and stoic, I didn’t expect you to be so open and vulnerable. You have no idea how turned on I am,” Byron admitted then fell forward and rubbed his lips through his beard. Alastair arched and gasped as Byron’s hand tightened around his cock and stroked.

  “I usually prefer to be on top but right now I’d really, really prefer getting fucked,” he whimpered. “You were so good, Byron, but I need you to fuck me,” Alastair panted as he clawed at his back and Byron chuckled before he sighed dramatically.

  “Fine,” he said as he leaned and reached for the condoms and lube. “I’m not really very good at it, it’s not really my thing,” he warned and Alastair bit his lip as he heard a wrapper ripping and anticipation swelled.

  “I’m sure it’ll be great…” He whispered then moaned as slick fingers traced his hole. Need and heat swirled in Alastair’s groin as Byron’s fingers slowly pressed into his tight entrance. “Oh…fuck, Byron,” he cried breathlessly and his hips twitched as he pulled his lips to his. Alastair’s tongue lapped at Byron’s as he gasped and writhed restlessly as he fingered his ass. His fingers twisted lazily and reached deep to tease Alastair’s prostate. “I need you to fuck me hard,” he urged and Byron hummed thoughtfully as he withdrew his fingers and shifted between Alastair’s legs.

  “I’ll do my best,” he murmured as the head of his cock pushed past the tight ring of Alastair’s entrance and slowly filled his passage.

  Alastair’s head lolled on the pillow and he pulled at Byron’s body and undulated beneath him as he rode his smooth, even thrusts. He was so slow and his rhythm and control so steady, he was driving Alastair out of his mind. Byron was deliberate and composed, the rolling of his hips and the demanding thrust of his tongue as it swept through Alastair’s mouth left him feeling possessed and consumed. Byron was a lot better than good, Alastair realized. Byron was athletic and graceful as his hips pumped and bounced, relentless and electric. Alastair lost his breath as Byron pushed off the bed and rose over him. The muscles in his arms stretched and twisted and his chest and abs bunched and flexed as he rocked into Alastair, driving deep, filling and pressing against every inch of Alastair’s passage.

  “Not really your thing?” Alastair panted as he hooked his legs around Byron’s waist and dug his heels into his ass, pulling him deeper. Byron laughed as he ground hard and Alastair hissed as his prostate was crushed and heavy, rolling pleasure washed through his groin.

  “I totally lied. I wanted to see if I could surprise you. I had a feeling you were expecting a lot less out of me,” he said as he focused his thrusts, riding Alastair’s prostate. “I’m planning to fuck you senseless and suck you dry,” Byron said and Alastair would have told him he was half way there but his jaw fell as incredible pressure throbbed deep in his ass and pushed into the base of his cock. Alastair’s nerves twisted and tightened as his shoulders came off the bed and his eyes rolled. “Looks like you’re close” Byron declared and Alastair could only nod as his fingers tangled in the sheets. “Perfect.”

  It was all the warning Alastair had before Byron pulled out and slid down his body. Alastair’s eyes flared and he jerked and gasped as Byron’s lips locked around his shaft and hard sucking pressure engulfed his length. Two fingers pushed into his passage and reached deep. They hooked around his prostate and pressed firmly as Byron took him deep in his throat and Alastair screamed. Every nerve in his body flared then exploded and bright light skipped down his veins as pressure and come burst from his cock. Byron moaned in delight as he swallowed greedily. Alastair’s body twisted and shuddered as Byron’s fingers continued their steady pressure, draining his soul and more come from his body than Alastair thought was possible.

  “Dear Lord, I think I can die now. That was the most spectacular thing that’s ever happened to me,” Alastair sighed as his body became limp and the room pulsed and blurred around him.

  “Mmmmhmmm…” Byron hummed as he licked him clean. “That was the most spectacular thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said. A euphoric giggle slipped from Alastair before he hissed as Byron’s hands pushed and rolled him onto his stomach.

  “Fuck,” Alastair grunted into the mattress as Byron drove hard and brutally deep.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” Byron said as he pushed Alastair’s knees toward his elbows. “You’re so tight and perfect, I could fuck you for hours but breakfast will be here and I’ve got a good feeling about today,” he said as his hands locked around Alastair’s waist and his hips locked against his ass.

  Mother of God. He was so deep. Alastair’s fingers clawed at the edge of the bed and he bit down on his pillow to keep from screaming as Byron slid back then slammed into him. He became lightheaded as pleasure rippled from where Byron’s thick, hot, hard length filled him with steady, grinding strokes. The sound of slick skin slapping against slick skin merged with delirious moans, gasps, grunts and a hell of a lot of swearing and bounced off the ceiling and echoed through the hall.

  “Alastairrrr!” Byron cried as his body bucked hard then trembled. His hands planted on the bed outside of Alastair’s shoulders before lips and hot, panting huffs of breath bathed the skin between Alastair’s shoulder blades. Byron groaned. “It’s going to be impossible to think about anything but this,” he complained then nipped the back of Alastair’s neck before he pushed off the bed. The mattress dipped and bounced but Alastair couldn’t lift his head. “I’m going to check out the library until they deliver our food,” Byron announced as he scrambled off the bed. “I didn’t bring enough books to read.”

 
“Ernjererrtherberks,” Alastair muffled into the bedding as he raised a hand and waved.

  “I will,” Byron whispered in his ear before he nipped Alastair’s earlobe.

  Alastair’s brain spluttered as it struggled to relay a thought but Alastair wasn’t really concerned with much of anything as his nerves pulsed lazily and a heavy weight pulled his consciousness and body into the mattress. He drifted in and out of warm, blurry dreams of lips and slick skin and drugging pleasure until a loud bang tore through the house and shattered the peaceful stillness.

  “ALASTAIR!” Byron screamed and for as long as Alastair lived, no one would ever be able to convince him that at least one ninja wasn’t hiding in his family tree. Somehow, he levitated from the bed and was sprinting down the hall toward the library before Byron’s voice finished echoing through the house. He was clearly a blind ninja. Alastair turned the corner just as Byron rushed out of the library.

  “Shit!” Byron yelped as they crashed and he bounced off Alastair’s chest and landed on his ass. Alastair swore as he stumbled back and his elbow cracked the door as he tried to catch the books Byron was carrying when they collided. “Sorry! I wasn’t thinking when I yelled and I was trying to get to you before you panicked,” Byron said quickly as he got to his feet and gathered the books. “Are you ok? I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and Alastair pushed his hand through his hair as he willed his heart to find a normal rhythm before it exploded.

  “Are you ok? I heard a loud noise and you screamed,” he said as he held out the one book he managed to catch and a loud laugh burst from Byron.

  “I fell off the ladder. Look at what you’re holding!” He said and Alastair frowned as he examined the small, frail leather-bound book in his hand.

  “Librum hymnorum diverso metro sive rhythmo,” he read then blinked at it as his brain struggled through the Latin. “It’s something about a singing scroll?” He offered sheepishly and Byron fisted his hand in his hair.

  “You’re holding a book of Bede’s hymns! No one’s seen one since the fifteenth century!” He said loudly as he hopped excitedly and Alastair winced.

  “Actually, I’ve seen it. And a few of my ancestors,” he said and Byron’s lips pulled tight.

  “Aside from you and a few of your ancestors, no one’s seen one of those since the fifteenth century,” he replied and Alastair nodded.

  “This is very exciting,” he said and Byron’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek.

  “It was a lot more exciting before you and your ancestors ruined it,” he muttered and Alastair hummed in agreement.

  “I’m excited about not looking for them anymore,” he pointed out and Byron snatched the book from his hands.

  “I wanted to start in the library but you said they’d be in the cellars,” he said and Alastair’s brows pulled together as he looked over Byron’s shoulder.

  “It doesn’t make sense that they’d be there,” he murmured and Byron’s eyes flicked upwards.

  “Because the last place anyone would leave books, would be the library,” he agreed sarcastically and Alastair went ahead and yawned loudly. Because it was still early and he was done pretending to care about books or the library. He raised a shoulder then turned on his heel.

  “I’m going back to bed,” he decided and Byron sighed in frustration as he followed.

  “Why were they in the library?” He asked and Alastair held up his hands as they walked into the hall.

  “I have no clue. They were somewhere under the estate the last time I saw them and my father had absolutely no interest in them. He wanted to sell them, if I remember correctly. Maybe he had them brought up to be appraised,” he suggested and Bryon made an incredulous sound.

  “How could he even consider selling them?” He asked and Alastair shrugged.

  “Maybe I didn’t explain this adequately, but he was a fucking monster, Byron,” he said as he headed for his bed. He fell face first onto the duvet and crawled toward his pillow. “You’ve got your bloody journals, let’s celebrate with more sleep and more sex,” he said as he pulled back the covers and stared at Byron expectantly. He didn’t appreciate that Byron needed a moment to consider before he rushed to the table and carefully set down the journals. He glared as he waited for Byron to shed his clothes and join him. “I’m going to make you pay for that later,” he warned and Byron cheered as he burrowed into Alastair.

  “Nice! Will it hurt?” He asked and Alastair frowned as he pulled his head back and looked down at him.

  “What the hell kind of academic are you?” He asked and Byron’s eyes twinkled mischievously as his kissed the end of Alastair’s nose.

  “The really dirty kind,” he whispered back and Alastair was completely and hopelessly in love.

  Chapter 24

  Alastair’s relief at finding the journals only lasted for the first twenty-four hours. He missed Byron. Once he sat down to work, it was hard to get him to stop. They slept, ate, bathed and fucked but Byron went hours without looking up. His lips never stopped as he whispered to himself in Latin and wrote feverishly. He was curled in a chair by the fire and the blanket slipped from his shoulder as he turned a page. He was naked and his olive skin glowed and Alastair wondered if one of his parents was of Mediterranean descent. Byron would be even more beautiful in Greece or Turkey. His skin would get richer and he’d be breathtaking with the bright blue sea and sky and white cliffs behind him. Alastair wanted to leave Beldon and take Byron to Greece where they’d be warm and free of his tragic past and his family’s curse. He was so bloody tired of being cold.

  He wasn’t sure if Byron had ever actually experienced anything tragic in his life. While he’d had a very tragic life, Byron found some way to protect his soul and remain pure and light. Not pure in the traditional, sense, obviously. But none of the sad realities of his difficult and lonely life ever darkened his spirit or stole his joy. The tragedies he survived never touched him, in the places within himself, where he truly lived. His curiosity, compassion and passion never stopped burning and the pain only made him stronger. He couldn’t be knocked down, no matter how hard life pushed back against him. His spirit was indestructible.

  It was so easy to compare their lives and see them as opposites or completely different animals altogether but Alastair understood Byron more than he’d understood another living person. He connected with him in a way that was immediate and so natural. While they’d experienced their tragic childhoods in very different ways, they shared the understanding of what it was like to live without parents or a family. Neither needed to explain what true loneliness and fear did to a child’s heart and mind, they shared the same scars. Instead of hiding from his scars and hiding them from the world, Byron made them part of him and grew stronger.

  Somehow, two lonely people could come together and make something whole and possibly good. Alastair felt a little nervous and lost, whenever he wondered how things might have been different if he hadn’t given Byron an audience or if he’d remained unmovable and said no. He had a feeling they’d still be in Beldon, that Byron would have eventually worn him down but the idea that he could have shut his ears to Byron’s passion and intensity and missed all of this frightened him. One decision, one moment could have cost him the only thing he’d ever truly wanted. Which moment was it? When did the cards turn in Alastair’s favor and how did their paths merge? It had to have been before Byron walked into his office, long before Alastair first read his name.

  “Byron,” he called as he threw back the covers and his head snapped up and he was disoriented for a moment as his eyes met Alastair’s.

  “Hmmm?” He asked but Alastair could see that his thoughts were still in Latin and his mind was centuries in the past.

  “Why were you looking for Bede’s journals?” He asked as he hurried around the long table and squatted in front of Byron’s chair. He looked a little confused but smiled.

  “Because they were missing,” he said and
Alastair shook his head as he took Byron’s hands in his.

  “Why did you choose him though? Of all the monks, priests and other types of clerics, why Bede? Why didn’t you decide to look for Thomas à Becket’s day planner?” He said and Byron’s mouth fell open.

  “I doubt he had one but if he did, it’s probably in Canterbury. He was canonized two years after his death and everything was kept. Henry didn’t touch anything of his, Becket’s death nearly cost him the crown,” Byron muttered absently and Alastair shushed him.

  “Of all the mysteries of the Bible and all of history’s historian’s, why did you pick Bede? You could be in Turkey, studying Herodotus. What made you pick Bede? What brought you here?” He asked and Byron’s eyes became unfocused as he stared at the journal in his hands. Alastair couldn’t breathe. He was certain that that decision, whatever it was that sparked Byron’s curiosity, was the most important moment of his life.

  “I don’t know,” he said and his lips curved ever so slightly. “I can’t even remember what I was looking for at the time. I was writing a paper and it was just after I got to Harvard. There had to be at least six books open in front of me but my eyes locked on his name and I heard it, in my head. Like a voice, telling me to find him. I’d studied Bede briefly and was aware of his work but he’d made no impression on me until that day. Then, I couldn’t get his name out of my head and I felt like I was being pulled toward him. Every day after that, I had a purpose and a goal, I had to find those journals and I did everything I could, fought for every opportunity that brought me one step closer to getting here so I could study them,” he explained and Alastair frowned.

  “Why? What was it about him or his journals that made this so important to you?” He demanded and Byron shook his head.

  “I honestly don’t know. The day before, he was pretty cool and a guy who did a lot for English History. After that, he was everything. But it was almost like a spell. Every paper and every lecture was just another step up the ladder that got me closer to him,” he said and Alastair should have felt cheated because he’d never know the reason why his life changed but he laughed.