Love's Musketeer --- Chapter Fourteen
The guillotine stood before him, the sunlight glinting off the blade. Fighting the hands holding him, D'Artagnan struggled to gain his freedom from the terror of his impending death. The hooded man forced his body into position and braced his head on the wooden block. Below the raised platform stood the Cardinal, a gagged and bound Athos on his knees before him.
D'Artagnan's eyes widened with horror as Richelieu plunged a dagger deep into the heart of his lover. The deranged demon then laughed and gave the order for his beheading.
With blood pouring from the wound in his chest, Athos crawled closer to D'Artagnan, reaching out his hand as he mouthed words his lover could not hear. D'Artagnan fought valiantly to free himself, his heart crying out to his beloved Musketeer.
All pleas fell on deaf ears as the blade dropped without warning.
D'Artagnan jerked straight up in bed and gripped his throat with both hands. A terrified cry echoed throughout the bedchamber as the nightmare maintained its frightful hold on the young Musketeer. Strong arms gathered D'Artagnan close, holding him tight as his trembling body was stroked tenderly and soothing words whispered to him.
"You are safe, my angel. It was a bad dream. I am here, D'Artagnan. No one will hurt you."
D'Artagnan clawed at his lover, desperate for the safety of Athos' promise. His fingers searched for the phantom chest wound, his lips trembling over the naked skin. "He---he killed you. The Cardinal killed you." D'Artagnan lifted his face, tears spilling from his eyes as he pulled Athos' head down, stealing his breath in a kiss. He released the man's mouth but not his face; instead he locked eyes with his lover, his gaze memorizing Athos' features.
"You died right in front of me. I was helpless. I could not save you."
The elder Musketeer sat up in bed and settled D'Artagnan's body in his lap. "It was a nightmare, lad. I am right here, safe and sound." Brushing back D'Artagnan's damp curls, Athos gently wiped the tears from his face.
D'Artagnan pressed wet kisses against Athos' palm. "I cannot lose you. You are everything to me, Athos." He pushed the older man down onto the bed and straddled his lower body, leaning down to whisper fiercely in his ear, "Everything!"
The young Gascon attacked Athos' mouth, his kisses hot, wet and desperate. He fed hungrily on the man's taste, his tongue plundering deep. Lips were bruised as the kisses became frantic and wild.
D'Artagnan gripped Athos' face, holding him still as he forced his mouth open wide. Tongues tangled as the youth fought to capture every passionate nuance of the kiss, biting the tender flesh of swollen lips, following with healing swipes that apologized for the brutal loving.
Pausing to catch his breath, D'Artagnan leaned back and feasted on the site of his naked lover---the bruised lips, the flushed cheeks, the dazed eyes. He ran his hands over Athos' upper torso, mapping the muscular contours his mouth hungered to brand as his and his alone. He pulled on the older man's nipples, twisting them, torturing them as they hardened with pleasure.
Athos hissed and arched off the bed as D'Artagnan's mouth located an abused bud and bit down hard on the tender flesh before sucking it into his mouth. The exquisite pain nearly drove Athos wild and he howled his approval, encouraging his young lover by gripping his ass and squeezing.
D'Artagnan reciprocated by digging his nails into the area surrounding Athos' nipples. "You are mine, Athos. And I will not allow anyone to harm you." The long-haired Musketeer slid between Athos' splayed thighs, his mouth trailing heat over a quivering abdomen. He sucked and nipped on the older man's navel, probing the small indention with his tongue.
Smelling the pungent scent of his lover's arousal, D'Artagnan lifted his head, his sky blue eyes stormy with unspoken need and hunger as he said, "I want you. Now."
Allowing Athos no time to answer, D'Artagnan moved swiftly and swallowed the man's erection, consuming his lover's hard shaft in a ravenous manner, his mouth and tongue moving up and down the entire length, leaving no flesh untouched, unscathed.
Demanding hands captured his testicles, rolling and tugging on them and Athos cried out. The cry escalated into a scream when D'Artagnan's hot mouth abandoned his erection and encased his ballsac, the youth's talented tongue bathing each oval with blazing moisture while torturing the sensitive sac with his fingernails.
Athos offered no protest when D'Artagnan turned him over on his stomach. His innocent lover had never explored this aspect of lovemaking, even though Athos had encouraged him on several occasions. There would be no shy protestations tonight for the hunger radiating off both men dictated their joining would be fast and hard. D'Artagnan needed it. Athos wanted it.
D'Artagnan smoothed his hands over his lover's firm buttocks and trailed a finger down the dark cleft that separated them. He pushed his way inside, encouraged by Athos' groans and thrusting of his hips, quickly adding more fingers as he explored this uncharted territory.
"I need you. I--- I need---"
Warm air whispered over his spasming hole and Athos turned his head, his gaze colliding with his beloved's eyes. "Take me, my angel. Make us one again."
D'Artagnan reached beneath Athos and coated his fingers with the silky fluid leaking from the older man's cock. He then stroked it over his own manhood before gripping Athos' hips and pushing inside, stopping only when his balls slapped against his lover's thighs.
"I love you. Athos! Alllllwaaaaayyss!"
D'Artagnan sobbed at the pleasure wrapping around him and he dropped his head, resting it on the small of Athos' back. His long curls cascaded down and teased the curve of Athos' buttocks as his fingers dug into the warm flesh of his lover's hips, holding the older Musketeer immobile while he pounded deep inside. Sharp cries of ecstasy fell from his lips when his cock was welcomed with a bruising heat that was nearly his undoing.
Athos bucked and writhed as his young lover pushed him closer and closer to the blazing fire of his impending orgasm. D'Artagnan's talented fingers found his straining shaft and stroked it frantically, making Athos thrash back and forth, his hands ripping the bed linens free. His tortured moans were smothered against the mattress when D'Artagnan slammed deep inside with one final thrust.
D'Artagnan spilled his seed inside his lover's hot, slick channel, his scream of completion dragged out of him by the clenching muscles of Athos' ass. His grip on the older man's cock was threatened when the liquid evidence of Athos' release sprayed all over his hand. He groaned with exhaustion as he collapsed fully across Athos' back, his muscles hardly able to summon the strength when it came time to pull out and roll off his lover. D'Artagnan sighed as his shuddering body was gathered close by a pair of sweat slicked arms and he burrowed his face in the solidity of Athos' chest, licking at the moisture that covered his damp, smooth flesh.
D'Artagnan gripped the silver crucifix that lay over the area of Athos' heart and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it lovingly. He fought the sleep that was threatening his mind; he needed to make sure Athos understood his fear.
"I love you, Athos. You are my life. Don't ever leave me. Please."
The silent Musketeer pressed D'Artagnan closer, his lips worshiping the damp curls that fell across his face as he tangled his fingers in the gold braiding that circled his young lover's wrist. "We are bonded, my angel. Nothing can tear us apart. Nothing."
The two men fell into a quiet slumber, safe in the protection of their love.
Porthos entered the cabin, his eyes scanning the darkened room as he reached for the lantern and adjusted the flame, allowing a subdued illumination to light the area. He began to mutter softly when his cold, cramped fingers fumbled and nearly dropped the lantern on the floor. "Damn these English dogs and their cursed weather. It was raining when we came. And it's raining as we take our leave. Do they enjoy being wet and cold all the time?"
The large black Musketeer quickly removed his damp uniform, his eyes never leaving the slumbering form in his bed. "Aramis," he called softly as he steadied himself against the wall in order to pull off his waterlogged boots. The lantern began to swing lazily with the rhythm of the ship, its light casting dancing shadows across the man sleeping soundly in the corner of the cabin. Porthos smiled to himself. How in the hell Aramis managed to sleep through a rough sailing was beyond his simple comprehension. But sleep, his beloved priest, did. And from the look on his face it was a happy rest.
The older man stood naked, taking a moment to memorize the unearthly beauty of his lover. The dark-colored strands of Aramis' hair tumbled in wild disarray over his forehead and Porthos felt the overwhelming need to sweep then aside so that he could press a kiss there. Moving closer, Porthos saw that the coarse blanket had slipped down Aramis' body and pooled around his waist, revealing dusky nipples that begged to be suckled. Porthos leaned forward and assisted the covers in their journey south, peeling it away with exquisite slowness, his eyes feasting on the tanned skin that was revealed.
The Musketeer suddenly felt the arousing heat of desire rush to his groin as his gaze drifted over the flat abdomen, the small navel, the long muscular legs. His erection awoke with a vengeance as he beheld the forest of thick curls that sheltered Aramis' sleeping shaft, a restless movement of his lover's legs giving him a glimpse of the satiny sac that lay between slim thighs.
Porthos rubbed his hands over his broad chest, teasing the hardened nubs of his nipples. He then reached down and stroked himself with his right hand, cupping his balls with his left, groaning hungrily as he watched the tip of Aramis' small pink tongue sneak out to wet his lips. The Musketeer quickened the pace of his strokes, his shaft leaking its seed all over his hand. Throwing his head back, Porthos widened his stance, his left hand reaching further back, teasing the sensitive skin behind his ball sac.
Whispering his lover's name, Porthos prepared himself to surrender to the orgasm that was burning him alive. Unfortunately, the storm had other ideas. A powerful wave slammed against the side of the vessel, its momentum tossing the large man down on the bunk, his heavy frame colliding with his lover's sleeping form.
Aramis awoke with a scream as the solid weight of his mate crushed him. A solid erection stabbed him in the abdomen and forced a loud gasp for breath. He wheezed out a laugh when he realized the cause of his distress. Catching Porthos as the ship again rolled abruptly, the young priest braced his lover against the cabin wall before flipping him back onto the bunk. He then slipped out from beneath Porthos and climbed onto his back.
"I take it we're in for a wild ride tonight, my love." Aramis chuckled at the curses that were muffled by the bed's pillows. "Taking the Lord's name in vain will not calm the storm outside, Porthos." Leaning low, he scattered tiny bites across his lover's wide shoulders, his tongue bathing each mark with long lazy licks. Discovering the straight line of Porthos' spine, he trailed a string of hot, wet kisses right down to the edge of the big man's rump.
"You taste absolutely delicious." The young priest smiled as he listened to the husky groans that greeted his every move. A flash of lightening spilled through the porthole, flooding the room with a momentary brightness and Aramis laughed as his elegant fingers teased the solid curves of the older Musketeer's buttocks. "Oh my! I've seen the light!"
Scooting back, Aramis wiggled his butt back and forth on Porthos' hairy thighs, laughing softly before wickedly blowing a breath of warm air over his lover's dark entrance. His smile widened when Porthos' body arched off the bed. "Hmmm. I conclude by your reaction, that you enjoyed what just happened. Shall I test my theory again, my giant warrior?"
Porthos turned his head and grinned at his young partner. "Ah---not only are you a man of the cloth but also a man of science. Let it not be said that I denied you a chance to seek new knowledge."
Aramis slowly stroked his tongue along the shadowy cleft of his lover's bottom, pausing only a few seconds before tasting his mate's secret flavor. "Knowledge is a good thing, my brave warrior. Shall I enlighten you?" Aramis lowered his head and fed hungrily on Porthos' dark rosebud, his gaze widening with surprise when Porthos clenched the far side of the bunk and ripped it loose from the frame.
"Oh Porthos, I have so much to---OOMPH!"
Feeling his lover tumble to the side, Porthos opened his eyes and desperately tried to focus his hazy sight. "Aramis? Are you all right?" He softly laughed as he listened to his holy mate swear.
"Damnation and Hellfire! This weather is abominable."
The young Musketeer untangled himself from the scattered piles of clothing on the cabin's floor and scrambled to his feet, a bedraggled handkerchief caught on his ear and a tattered stocking hanging precariously from the tip of his cock.
Porthos reached over and snagged his lover's erection. "Come here, most wise and learned priest. Teach me the ways of love." The large black man gathered Aramis in his arms and pulled at the Musketeer so that he was lying on top of him. Slow tender kisses were shared between the two men, each one demonstrating the purity of their love.
Porthos played with his lover's sensitive nipples, delighting in the husky moans that drifted into the quiet. Lifting his head, he latched on to and gently suckled a wrinkled nub, distracting Aramis as he guided him into place for loving. With infinite patience, he stroked the leaking head of his large cock back and forth over his mate's rosebud.
"Oh, sweet priest. You make me---SACRE BLEU!"
The giant ship rolled to the right while Aramis rolled to the left and unfortunately delicate flesh collided with cold hard wood.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Aramis swept his hair off his forehead and attempted to stand. He grabbed for leverage as the vessel again lurched over on its side. Desperately holding onto the support beam with one arm, Aramis rubbed his bruised bottom. "I think I have a splinter in my ass, Porthos. It hurts." He looked over at his lover and pouted. "It really hurts."
The older Musketeer laughed, his large frame shaking with great merriment. "My poor wounded love. Come here and let me look at you."
Gracefully slipping back on the bunk, Aramis smiled at his gentle giant and gracefully snuggled close to his warm body as he rubbed his hands over Porthos' waning erection. "I believe the heavens are trying to send us a message." Aramis nipped at his lover's lips while Porthos was attempting to capture his disobedient mouth.
"And what lesson in that, sweet priest?"
Aramis grabbed the scattered linens and covered their naked bodies before pressing a kiss over Porthos' heart.
"Thou shalt not fornicate on the high seas."
End of Chapter 14