Fic: The Cat and the Canary
Title: The Cat and The Canary
Pairing: Adam/Peter, Nathan&Peter (in a plutonic way)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, but that's a given.
Summary: Historical AU. Adam is a bandit and Peter is his prize.
Disclaimer: This is NBC/Kring’s sandbox, I just make dunes here.
Notes: Written for rounds_of_kink round 11.
The entire house had been ordered to assemble. The servants stood in line, fidgeting and anxious while the Petrelli family stood at the head, with the exception of young Master Peter.
Upon descending the stairs, Peter had been pushed back into the fray to stand among the kitchen workers. His current attire was poor enough to pass, and Nathan had pressed a stern finger to his lips, a plea for silence and compliance for once in Peter’s life.
A group of men, rough and ragged, faced them all. Peter stood on his toes in his fight for a better view. He could see the glint of silver daggers and pistols and the smell of spent gunpowder lay coarse beneath the predominant stench of sweat, dirt and stress.
The men wore masks, just scraps of cloth really, to cover the top halves of their faces.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry for the inconvenience, but you are under attack. My men are upstairs, stripping the bedrooms of valuables, we had to get you out of the way.” The blond man’s voice was almost conversational.
An educated outlaw. His words were cultured, unexpectedly so. Peter watched from afar as the line of Arthur’s back stiffened.
“Lord and Lady Petrelli?” The Outlaw opened a sack and held it towards Peter’s parents.
“Damned hellion!” Arthur’s words were gruff and loud. Peter suspected he didn’t know any other way to speak, not even in an emergency.
The Outlaw just shook the bag while one of his compatriots pistol-whipped Arthur with the butt of his gun. “We all have our parts to play in this grand world.”
Peter could picture the purse of Angela’s lips as her jewels dropped heavy in the sack. Arthur, now holding his bruised jaw, dropped in a pull bag of coins.
Finally, the Outlaw turned towards where Nathan stood silent and tall. Peter’s heart dropped a beat and he swallowed thick in his throat.
“As I recall, you have two sons, Lord Petrelli. Holding out on me?”
Arthur opened his mouth, but Nathan’s glare snapped around quick to stifle any telling words. A brother’s love, especially that between Nathan and Peter, was not something even their parents wished to trifle in.
“Ah, so you are hiding a brother then?” The Outlaw’s smile was wide and smug.
Peter could clearly imagine Nathan’s expression of contempt without even seeing his face.
“And what would draw out this mysterious other brother?” The cocking of the Outlaws pistol seemed to echo loud in the room.
Movement stilled as the muzzle of the gun pushed hard against Arthur’s forehead.
Peter breathed hard through his nose as he bit his lip bloodless.
“No? Then how about this?” The pistol swung to Nathan.
Unable to restrain himself, Peter broke with the line and rushed towards the front of the room. Before he could make it to his brother’s side the Outlaw’s fellow bandits had him by the arms.
Even though he struggled, Peter was no match for their strength and was dragged the rest of the way to the head of the room.
Arthur’s eyes blazed at him with rage and anger, Angela looked at the floor.
“Na-“
One of the brigands moved to backhand Peter across the mouth, but the arm stilled before the blow.
The blond outlaw had intercepted and dropped his gun from Nathan’s head.
“You’re the other brother then?”
The bandits wrestled Peter still as the cold metal mouth of the pistol ran down the length of his cheek, making him shiver.
“Yes.” Confirmation hissed out from between Peter’s clenched teeth.
Fingers replaced the gun, fostering the warmth unfurling low in Peter’s gut as dangerous blue eyes focused solely on him.
“Young Lord Petrelli. Do you go by any other name?” The Outlaw cupped Peter’s cheek and seemed to draw him ever closer.
Nathan gave a strangled sound from behind the Outlaw, he too had fought and was now held stationary by multiple bandits. His arms were behind him, caught in a secure lock and his knees were forcibly buckled, leaving Nathan unable to defend himself or his brother.
“You know, Young Lord Petrelli, it would be easy for my men to cause your brother a great deal of pain. I believe they would start by dislocating his shoulder. They’re a rambunctious lot.”
“Pl-“ The words caught in his throat as he strained away from his bandit captors and towards his brother. “Please let him go.”
“Tell me your name?”
Peter nodded and bit his lips. He knew his cheeks colored pink. “Peter.”
“Thank you for the honor, Peter.”
His flushed brighter but looked up at the rough sounds of Nathan being released. Just as Peter was about to breath a sigh of relief, an outlaw punched him across the face. Unsteady on his feet, Nathan fell to the ground.
Both Arthur and Angela moved as one in his aid, a united front that they had failed to present on Peter’s behalf. The gesture, or lack thereof was not lost on the Outlaw. He looked at Peter with an expression akin to pity.
“Leave him.” The Outlaw’s words were short and curt, the other bandits fell from Nathan’s sides. “My men are unpredictable, but easily controlled. They will listen to what I say. Peter, what would you give me to leave this place and never bother your brother again.”
“Anything.” Peter’s word was a whisper, but the Outlaw heard.
He nodded solemnly. “You would come with me?”
“Barbarian.” Nathan hissed from his position on the floor. But it was Angela that held him back.
“Hardly. You’re brother and I are in the midst of a business arrangement, please don’t interrupt.” Blue eyes glinted with partially smothered amusement and danger, making Peter feel warm again.
Peter straightened his shoulder, much as he was able and tilted his chin with an air of confidence he didn’t feel, to look the Outlaw in the eye as he nodded his assent. “Anything.”
The Outlaw grinned; the cat had caught the canary. “Let him go.”
The restrictive arms of the Outlaw’s fellow bandits drop from around Peter and were replaced by the single one. The Outlaw’s arm fit around the small of Peter’s back to rest a wide hand on his hip.
Peter would have protested the Outlaw’s forwardness had it been any other man, under any other circumstances.
Instead he looked imploringly at Nathan, willing him to understand the choice Peter had just made.
It had everything to do with his brother’s safety.
As the Outlaw spoke to his fellow bandits about tapestries and jewels, travel, Peter concentrated on Nathan, and -however vaguely- on the pad of the Outlaw’s thumb, circling the point of his hip.
The warmth in his stomach furled outwards, arousing him, even as he silently pleaded for Nathan’s comprehension.
“Say your goodbyes, Peter. Quickly, your father is getting agitated.”
The Outlaw was slow to withdraw his arm from around Peter and the youngest Petrelli could feel the heavy blue gaze at his back as he took measured steps towards Nathan.
Standing again, Nathan wrapped his arms tight around Peter. “Why, Pete?”
Peter sniffled against his neck, shrugging away Arthur and Angela’s awkward attempts to pat his shoulder in a comforting manner.
“I love you, Nate.”
Nathan pet one last hand down Peter’s brown locks before pressing a hard kiss to his forehead. “Why couldn’t you have stayed in the back?”
Peter kissed him back, briefly on the lips before going to back the waiting Outlaw.
“We have to leave.”
Nodding weakly, Peter tried to hold his head high but couldn’t help the silent tears that welled up in his eyes.
“Will I be able to visit?”
The Outlaw looked at him as they left Grand Petrelli Manor for a group of horses and a carriage loaded high with the wealth of Peter’s family.
“Perhaps.” The Outlaw’s arm was comforting. Peter knew it would be better to shove him away now, but didn’t dare. This was the man who had just removed Peter from his home, not someone who should be so thoroughly soothing. And yet Peter still couldn’t bring himself to push the Outlaw away.
The Outlaw tossed his sack into the carriage along with the other Petrelli treasures before climbing in himself and motioning for Peter to follow.
Pointing to the floor of the carriage, the Outlaw seated himself and tugged away his mask.
“You want me to kneel? Before you?” Peter had never given much stock to his own social standing, but he was respectable, and respectable lads did not go around kneeling at the feet of bandits, not matter how much they wished to do so.
“Yes, Peter.”
Biting his lip, Peter shuffled to the floor.
“Closer, Peter. Don’t be facetious.”
Peter obeyed, drawing closer and closer until his was fairly curled around the Outlaw’s feet, the heel of his boot pressing firm against the inside of Peter’s thigh. And a strong hand came to rest on his head, petting him almost absently.
When the carriage lurched into sudden action, Peter was pushed even tighter against the Outlaw’s feet and he had to bite back a whimper.
“I knew your father.” The Outlaw said after a long moment of nothing but the sound of horses and the gravel beneath their wheels as company. “He and I used to delegate business matters for his practice in the town. The last time I saw you, you were but an infant.”
Peter set his chin on the Outlaw’s knee and looked up into startlingly blue eyes. “What happened?”
“Arthur decided he didn’t like my business tactics. He ruined me, Peter. I went to his home tonight to return the favor and exact my revenge.”
Curling himself into an impossibly smaller ball around the Outlaw’s feet, Peter nuzzled into the proffered hand without even a thought, but turned his face away to hide his flush of shame that followed only seconds after the impulsive action. “I’m sorry for what he did to you.”
“Man is capable of terrible things, Peter.” The Outlaw tipped his face so that blue met hazel eyes yet again. “I saw how your parents treated you. I had to take you away from that. They are vindictive people and would have ruined you given time.”
Peter wanted to turn away once more and refuse the Outlaw’s words, but could not. His tongue swelled in his mouth and tears made his vision swim.
“You, dear Peter, are beautiful in body and soul. The likes of the Petrellis would have sought to corrupt you. I refuse to leave beauty to those unable to appreciate, those willing to tarnish.”
“And you can appreciate it?” Peter’s voice sounded hopeful where he had been trying for confident.
Blue eyes bored in Peter’s own, the intensity made him shiver. “Yes Peter, and more.”
The pad of the Outlaw’s thumb ran over Peter’s lips, slicking them with his own salvia as the carriage pulled to a rough stop and one of the other bandits banged on the door.
They had arrived at their destination and Peter’s case of the shakes worsened considerably.
Smiling in the dim, the Outlaw slipped his digit briefly inside Peter’s mouth. “Next carriage ride, you will suck me while sitting pretty on your knees like this.”
Arousal was the immediate response, Peter’s mouth went slack and his cheeks flushed cherry as the Outlaw just chuckled and nudged him out of the carriage.
They’d stopped at a small inn one town over from Petrelli Manor. It was tiny and unobtrusive, but Peter recognized it well enough. He remembered being warned away, only ruffians stayed here.
“Leave one man with the spoils at all times. Take it in shifts; I don’t want anyone falling asleep on the job. I’ll be upstairs if there’s an emergency.” The Outlaw’s arm fit around Peter’s waist more comfortably than it had any right, but Peter didn’t protest, just allowed himself to be led inside.
The Innkeeper nodded and gave the Outlaw a gap toothed grin as they bypassed the front desk and went up the stairs. Some of the other bandits filed along behind only to faction off into different rooms on the landing.
The Outlaw drew Peter inside one of the unoccupied rooms, a small grin gracing his lips.
Going about the room, the Outlaw removed his heavy boots, tossed his mask to the chair. He shrugged away his jacket, then his shirt.
Peter swallowed his arousal and reminded himself, not for the first time since their initial contact only hours beforehand, that this man was the enemy, not a proper object for Peter’s lust.
The Outlaw dipped a cloth into water and began to scrub the grime of the road from his face, hands and chest, leaving him glistening and more magnificent than before.
“Come, Peter.”
After a brief hesitation, the Outlaw clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “You don’t want to go to bed covered in dust, do you? Come here so I can clean you off a bit.”
“I can do it myself.” Peter held out a hand for the rag, but instead the Outlaw used it to reel him closer.
“I’m sure you can, Peter. But maybe I just want an excuse to touch this stunning body of yours. Such a fine example of youth.”
Peter’s vest and shirt fell away and the cloth felt cool and clean on his skin. Unconsciously, he leaned into the Outlaw’s touch until they were just a hairsbreadth apart.
The kiss was slow and sensual, not at all what Peter expected from a brutal highwayman, but lovely all the same.
However, as fingers flitted to the clasp of his pants, letting them loose to falling around his hips, Peter jerked back from the kiss.
Blue eyes snapped to meet his own, more confused than anything else.
“Peter? Is something wrong?”
Stamping down the near hysterical laughter that pushed up his throat, Peter shook his head no as the Outlaw pushed more firmly against him, all the while pushing his knickers down further until they balled around his ankles.
“I just want to make you feel good, Peter. Today must have been difficult and unpleasant and I would like to make it up to you.” The Outlaw pressed kisses down Peter’s neck and forcibly lifted each foot to toe away both shoes.
“But don’t forget Peter, you owe me as well.” Hazel eyes snapped wide open. “That’s right, I took you away from that place. From those people that couldn’t, no wouldn’t appreciate you. You should be thankful.” His words were acid on Peter’s skin where his kisses were soft and comforting.
“Now finish undressing like the good little boy I know you can be.” The Outlaw gave him a pat on the ass to accompany his condescending words.
“Nathan, he appreciated me.” Peter said, even as he kicked away the remainder of his clothing and stood awkwardly, cupping his sex from the Outlaw’s view.
“Do you really think so, Peter?” The Outlaw raised a cool eyebrow. “If that was true, why didn’t he defend you tonight? Why isn’t he banging on that door right now, demanding your release? It’s not as if we’ve come terribly far. If he had followed, he would have caught up by now.”
Peter bit his lip as the Outlaw’s hands ran over his bare skin. Against his own desire, his cock filled in his hands and his breath hitched in his throat.
“Go kneel on the bed, forehead to the mattress.” The smooth sweeps of the Outlaw’s hands had Peter trembling as he moved clumsily into position.
Peter closed his eyes and willed the tears down as they threatened. Nathan cared, Peter knew that just as well as he knew his own name. Nothing that this bandit bastard said was going to change that.
He listened as the Outlaw moved about the room before there was a dip in the mattress as more weight was added.
A hot hand, slick with lubricant, ran down the exposed seam of his ass before pushing a single digit inside.
Peter cried out at the intrusion, his eyes flying open in shock at the violation. “They would never have treated you right. I will, Peter. I will show you unimaginable pleasure. You and I could have the world. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Unable to stop himself, Peter moved with the fingers now stretching him wide and open, gasping into the coverlet. “I don’t even,” He moaned as the Outlaw added another finger and pushed further inside. “know your name.”
The Outlaw smiled dangerously as his digits brushed the small bundle of nerves inside Peter, making him pant against the sheets.
“Adam.”
The name whispered against Peter’s ears as he moved helplessly back against those fingers, Adam’s fingers.
“They would never have understood you, Peter.” Adam nuzzled the damp nape of Peter’s neck, kissed down the raised ridges of his spine as the fingers withdrew and Peter felt the hard push of something bigger.
“But I understand, I know you.” Adam pushed inside; filling Peter up and making him keen high and needy.
Peter burned as he stretched to accommodate Adam’s cock, but pleasure washed away the pain as the Outlaw began to move.
“We will do great things together, Peter, starting here and now.” Adam left words behind as his fingers clenched around Peter’s own fists, knotted up in the sheets.
They moved together in a swirl of pleasure. Peter’s gasps became louder and tears of ecstasy rose behind his eyes as the rapture thrumming through his veins like blood burned brighter, more insistent.
He came in a white haze, slumping to the sheets as Adam continued to use his body. One, two, three more thrusts and the Outlaw was cursing in Peter’s ear. Words of sin and devotion curled together like music as the wash of Adam’s spend filled Peter’s hole to brimming.
Tipping to the side, Adam coiled around Peter in a manner as protective as it was possessive. Peter allowed it, shifting also to hold Adam in place as they spooned together.
His new lover’s breath whispered hot across his ear as the heart beat at his back slowed to a steady, almost reassuring rhythm.
“I just know it, Peter. Together, you and I are meant for great things.”
Peter pushed further back into the embrace, comfort folding tight around his body as they cocooned into one. He closed his eyes for a sleepless night, almost able to accept Adam’s words as truth.
Pairing: Adam/Peter, Nathan&Peter (in a plutonic way)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, but that's a given.
Summary: Historical AU. Adam is a bandit and Peter is his prize.
Disclaimer: This is NBC/Kring’s sandbox, I just make dunes here.
Notes: Written for rounds_of_kink round 11.
The entire house had been ordered to assemble. The servants stood in line, fidgeting and anxious while the Petrelli family stood at the head, with the exception of young Master Peter.
Upon descending the stairs, Peter had been pushed back into the fray to stand among the kitchen workers. His current attire was poor enough to pass, and Nathan had pressed a stern finger to his lips, a plea for silence and compliance for once in Peter’s life.
A group of men, rough and ragged, faced them all. Peter stood on his toes in his fight for a better view. He could see the glint of silver daggers and pistols and the smell of spent gunpowder lay coarse beneath the predominant stench of sweat, dirt and stress.
The men wore masks, just scraps of cloth really, to cover the top halves of their faces.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry for the inconvenience, but you are under attack. My men are upstairs, stripping the bedrooms of valuables, we had to get you out of the way.” The blond man’s voice was almost conversational.
An educated outlaw. His words were cultured, unexpectedly so. Peter watched from afar as the line of Arthur’s back stiffened.
“Lord and Lady Petrelli?” The Outlaw opened a sack and held it towards Peter’s parents.
“Damned hellion!” Arthur’s words were gruff and loud. Peter suspected he didn’t know any other way to speak, not even in an emergency.
The Outlaw just shook the bag while one of his compatriots pistol-whipped Arthur with the butt of his gun. “We all have our parts to play in this grand world.”
Peter could picture the purse of Angela’s lips as her jewels dropped heavy in the sack. Arthur, now holding his bruised jaw, dropped in a pull bag of coins.
Finally, the Outlaw turned towards where Nathan stood silent and tall. Peter’s heart dropped a beat and he swallowed thick in his throat.
“As I recall, you have two sons, Lord Petrelli. Holding out on me?”
Arthur opened his mouth, but Nathan’s glare snapped around quick to stifle any telling words. A brother’s love, especially that between Nathan and Peter, was not something even their parents wished to trifle in.
“Ah, so you are hiding a brother then?” The Outlaw’s smile was wide and smug.
Peter could clearly imagine Nathan’s expression of contempt without even seeing his face.
“And what would draw out this mysterious other brother?” The cocking of the Outlaws pistol seemed to echo loud in the room.
Movement stilled as the muzzle of the gun pushed hard against Arthur’s forehead.
Peter breathed hard through his nose as he bit his lip bloodless.
“No? Then how about this?” The pistol swung to Nathan.
Unable to restrain himself, Peter broke with the line and rushed towards the front of the room. Before he could make it to his brother’s side the Outlaw’s fellow bandits had him by the arms.
Even though he struggled, Peter was no match for their strength and was dragged the rest of the way to the head of the room.
Arthur’s eyes blazed at him with rage and anger, Angela looked at the floor.
“Na-“
One of the brigands moved to backhand Peter across the mouth, but the arm stilled before the blow.
The blond outlaw had intercepted and dropped his gun from Nathan’s head.
“You’re the other brother then?”
The bandits wrestled Peter still as the cold metal mouth of the pistol ran down the length of his cheek, making him shiver.
“Yes.” Confirmation hissed out from between Peter’s clenched teeth.
Fingers replaced the gun, fostering the warmth unfurling low in Peter’s gut as dangerous blue eyes focused solely on him.
“Young Lord Petrelli. Do you go by any other name?” The Outlaw cupped Peter’s cheek and seemed to draw him ever closer.
Nathan gave a strangled sound from behind the Outlaw, he too had fought and was now held stationary by multiple bandits. His arms were behind him, caught in a secure lock and his knees were forcibly buckled, leaving Nathan unable to defend himself or his brother.
“You know, Young Lord Petrelli, it would be easy for my men to cause your brother a great deal of pain. I believe they would start by dislocating his shoulder. They’re a rambunctious lot.”
“Pl-“ The words caught in his throat as he strained away from his bandit captors and towards his brother. “Please let him go.”
“Tell me your name?”
Peter nodded and bit his lips. He knew his cheeks colored pink. “Peter.”
“Thank you for the honor, Peter.”
His flushed brighter but looked up at the rough sounds of Nathan being released. Just as Peter was about to breath a sigh of relief, an outlaw punched him across the face. Unsteady on his feet, Nathan fell to the ground.
Both Arthur and Angela moved as one in his aid, a united front that they had failed to present on Peter’s behalf. The gesture, or lack thereof was not lost on the Outlaw. He looked at Peter with an expression akin to pity.
“Leave him.” The Outlaw’s words were short and curt, the other bandits fell from Nathan’s sides. “My men are unpredictable, but easily controlled. They will listen to what I say. Peter, what would you give me to leave this place and never bother your brother again.”
“Anything.” Peter’s word was a whisper, but the Outlaw heard.
He nodded solemnly. “You would come with me?”
“Barbarian.” Nathan hissed from his position on the floor. But it was Angela that held him back.
“Hardly. You’re brother and I are in the midst of a business arrangement, please don’t interrupt.” Blue eyes glinted with partially smothered amusement and danger, making Peter feel warm again.
Peter straightened his shoulder, much as he was able and tilted his chin with an air of confidence he didn’t feel, to look the Outlaw in the eye as he nodded his assent. “Anything.”
The Outlaw grinned; the cat had caught the canary. “Let him go.”
The restrictive arms of the Outlaw’s fellow bandits drop from around Peter and were replaced by the single one. The Outlaw’s arm fit around the small of Peter’s back to rest a wide hand on his hip.
Peter would have protested the Outlaw’s forwardness had it been any other man, under any other circumstances.
Instead he looked imploringly at Nathan, willing him to understand the choice Peter had just made.
It had everything to do with his brother’s safety.
As the Outlaw spoke to his fellow bandits about tapestries and jewels, travel, Peter concentrated on Nathan, and -however vaguely- on the pad of the Outlaw’s thumb, circling the point of his hip.
The warmth in his stomach furled outwards, arousing him, even as he silently pleaded for Nathan’s comprehension.
“Say your goodbyes, Peter. Quickly, your father is getting agitated.”
The Outlaw was slow to withdraw his arm from around Peter and the youngest Petrelli could feel the heavy blue gaze at his back as he took measured steps towards Nathan.
Standing again, Nathan wrapped his arms tight around Peter. “Why, Pete?”
Peter sniffled against his neck, shrugging away Arthur and Angela’s awkward attempts to pat his shoulder in a comforting manner.
“I love you, Nate.”
Nathan pet one last hand down Peter’s brown locks before pressing a hard kiss to his forehead. “Why couldn’t you have stayed in the back?”
Peter kissed him back, briefly on the lips before going to back the waiting Outlaw.
“We have to leave.”
Nodding weakly, Peter tried to hold his head high but couldn’t help the silent tears that welled up in his eyes.
“Will I be able to visit?”
The Outlaw looked at him as they left Grand Petrelli Manor for a group of horses and a carriage loaded high with the wealth of Peter’s family.
“Perhaps.” The Outlaw’s arm was comforting. Peter knew it would be better to shove him away now, but didn’t dare. This was the man who had just removed Peter from his home, not someone who should be so thoroughly soothing. And yet Peter still couldn’t bring himself to push the Outlaw away.
The Outlaw tossed his sack into the carriage along with the other Petrelli treasures before climbing in himself and motioning for Peter to follow.
Pointing to the floor of the carriage, the Outlaw seated himself and tugged away his mask.
“You want me to kneel? Before you?” Peter had never given much stock to his own social standing, but he was respectable, and respectable lads did not go around kneeling at the feet of bandits, not matter how much they wished to do so.
“Yes, Peter.”
Biting his lip, Peter shuffled to the floor.
“Closer, Peter. Don’t be facetious.”
Peter obeyed, drawing closer and closer until his was fairly curled around the Outlaw’s feet, the heel of his boot pressing firm against the inside of Peter’s thigh. And a strong hand came to rest on his head, petting him almost absently.
When the carriage lurched into sudden action, Peter was pushed even tighter against the Outlaw’s feet and he had to bite back a whimper.
“I knew your father.” The Outlaw said after a long moment of nothing but the sound of horses and the gravel beneath their wheels as company. “He and I used to delegate business matters for his practice in the town. The last time I saw you, you were but an infant.”
Peter set his chin on the Outlaw’s knee and looked up into startlingly blue eyes. “What happened?”
“Arthur decided he didn’t like my business tactics. He ruined me, Peter. I went to his home tonight to return the favor and exact my revenge.”
Curling himself into an impossibly smaller ball around the Outlaw’s feet, Peter nuzzled into the proffered hand without even a thought, but turned his face away to hide his flush of shame that followed only seconds after the impulsive action. “I’m sorry for what he did to you.”
“Man is capable of terrible things, Peter.” The Outlaw tipped his face so that blue met hazel eyes yet again. “I saw how your parents treated you. I had to take you away from that. They are vindictive people and would have ruined you given time.”
Peter wanted to turn away once more and refuse the Outlaw’s words, but could not. His tongue swelled in his mouth and tears made his vision swim.
“You, dear Peter, are beautiful in body and soul. The likes of the Petrellis would have sought to corrupt you. I refuse to leave beauty to those unable to appreciate, those willing to tarnish.”
“And you can appreciate it?” Peter’s voice sounded hopeful where he had been trying for confident.
Blue eyes bored in Peter’s own, the intensity made him shiver. “Yes Peter, and more.”
The pad of the Outlaw’s thumb ran over Peter’s lips, slicking them with his own salvia as the carriage pulled to a rough stop and one of the other bandits banged on the door.
They had arrived at their destination and Peter’s case of the shakes worsened considerably.
Smiling in the dim, the Outlaw slipped his digit briefly inside Peter’s mouth. “Next carriage ride, you will suck me while sitting pretty on your knees like this.”
Arousal was the immediate response, Peter’s mouth went slack and his cheeks flushed cherry as the Outlaw just chuckled and nudged him out of the carriage.
They’d stopped at a small inn one town over from Petrelli Manor. It was tiny and unobtrusive, but Peter recognized it well enough. He remembered being warned away, only ruffians stayed here.
“Leave one man with the spoils at all times. Take it in shifts; I don’t want anyone falling asleep on the job. I’ll be upstairs if there’s an emergency.” The Outlaw’s arm fit around Peter’s waist more comfortably than it had any right, but Peter didn’t protest, just allowed himself to be led inside.
The Innkeeper nodded and gave the Outlaw a gap toothed grin as they bypassed the front desk and went up the stairs. Some of the other bandits filed along behind only to faction off into different rooms on the landing.
The Outlaw drew Peter inside one of the unoccupied rooms, a small grin gracing his lips.
Going about the room, the Outlaw removed his heavy boots, tossed his mask to the chair. He shrugged away his jacket, then his shirt.
Peter swallowed his arousal and reminded himself, not for the first time since their initial contact only hours beforehand, that this man was the enemy, not a proper object for Peter’s lust.
The Outlaw dipped a cloth into water and began to scrub the grime of the road from his face, hands and chest, leaving him glistening and more magnificent than before.
“Come, Peter.”
After a brief hesitation, the Outlaw clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “You don’t want to go to bed covered in dust, do you? Come here so I can clean you off a bit.”
“I can do it myself.” Peter held out a hand for the rag, but instead the Outlaw used it to reel him closer.
“I’m sure you can, Peter. But maybe I just want an excuse to touch this stunning body of yours. Such a fine example of youth.”
Peter’s vest and shirt fell away and the cloth felt cool and clean on his skin. Unconsciously, he leaned into the Outlaw’s touch until they were just a hairsbreadth apart.
The kiss was slow and sensual, not at all what Peter expected from a brutal highwayman, but lovely all the same.
However, as fingers flitted to the clasp of his pants, letting them loose to falling around his hips, Peter jerked back from the kiss.
Blue eyes snapped to meet his own, more confused than anything else.
“Peter? Is something wrong?”
Stamping down the near hysterical laughter that pushed up his throat, Peter shook his head no as the Outlaw pushed more firmly against him, all the while pushing his knickers down further until they balled around his ankles.
“I just want to make you feel good, Peter. Today must have been difficult and unpleasant and I would like to make it up to you.” The Outlaw pressed kisses down Peter’s neck and forcibly lifted each foot to toe away both shoes.
“But don’t forget Peter, you owe me as well.” Hazel eyes snapped wide open. “That’s right, I took you away from that place. From those people that couldn’t, no wouldn’t appreciate you. You should be thankful.” His words were acid on Peter’s skin where his kisses were soft and comforting.
“Now finish undressing like the good little boy I know you can be.” The Outlaw gave him a pat on the ass to accompany his condescending words.
“Nathan, he appreciated me.” Peter said, even as he kicked away the remainder of his clothing and stood awkwardly, cupping his sex from the Outlaw’s view.
“Do you really think so, Peter?” The Outlaw raised a cool eyebrow. “If that was true, why didn’t he defend you tonight? Why isn’t he banging on that door right now, demanding your release? It’s not as if we’ve come terribly far. If he had followed, he would have caught up by now.”
Peter bit his lip as the Outlaw’s hands ran over his bare skin. Against his own desire, his cock filled in his hands and his breath hitched in his throat.
“Go kneel on the bed, forehead to the mattress.” The smooth sweeps of the Outlaw’s hands had Peter trembling as he moved clumsily into position.
Peter closed his eyes and willed the tears down as they threatened. Nathan cared, Peter knew that just as well as he knew his own name. Nothing that this bandit bastard said was going to change that.
He listened as the Outlaw moved about the room before there was a dip in the mattress as more weight was added.
A hot hand, slick with lubricant, ran down the exposed seam of his ass before pushing a single digit inside.
Peter cried out at the intrusion, his eyes flying open in shock at the violation. “They would never have treated you right. I will, Peter. I will show you unimaginable pleasure. You and I could have the world. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Unable to stop himself, Peter moved with the fingers now stretching him wide and open, gasping into the coverlet. “I don’t even,” He moaned as the Outlaw added another finger and pushed further inside. “know your name.”
The Outlaw smiled dangerously as his digits brushed the small bundle of nerves inside Peter, making him pant against the sheets.
“Adam.”
The name whispered against Peter’s ears as he moved helplessly back against those fingers, Adam’s fingers.
“They would never have understood you, Peter.” Adam nuzzled the damp nape of Peter’s neck, kissed down the raised ridges of his spine as the fingers withdrew and Peter felt the hard push of something bigger.
“But I understand, I know you.” Adam pushed inside; filling Peter up and making him keen high and needy.
Peter burned as he stretched to accommodate Adam’s cock, but pleasure washed away the pain as the Outlaw began to move.
“We will do great things together, Peter, starting here and now.” Adam left words behind as his fingers clenched around Peter’s own fists, knotted up in the sheets.
They moved together in a swirl of pleasure. Peter’s gasps became louder and tears of ecstasy rose behind his eyes as the rapture thrumming through his veins like blood burned brighter, more insistent.
He came in a white haze, slumping to the sheets as Adam continued to use his body. One, two, three more thrusts and the Outlaw was cursing in Peter’s ear. Words of sin and devotion curled together like music as the wash of Adam’s spend filled Peter’s hole to brimming.
Tipping to the side, Adam coiled around Peter in a manner as protective as it was possessive. Peter allowed it, shifting also to hold Adam in place as they spooned together.
His new lover’s breath whispered hot across his ear as the heart beat at his back slowed to a steady, almost reassuring rhythm.
“I just know it, Peter. Together, you and I are meant for great things.”
Peter pushed further back into the embrace, comfort folding tight around his body as they cocooned into one. He closed his eyes for a sleepless night, almost able to accept Adam’s words as truth.