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Can't Keep Me Away

Chapter 22

"Are you sure Master Dick isn't going to right fire me?" Philip Cummings said miserably as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was the golden Basque who stayed on at Howlester to trim the verge, a handsome young male with a tight, fit body, tall and strong. The maids around the manor were always atwitter over him, and little Hadly in particular followed him about with large, doting eyes. When he took his shirt off after a long day's work, it was not uncommon for all the maids to suddenly run to the nearest window and lift their tails with a sigh.

Charles had to admit that he had been doing the same for years. After all, the young stud never failed to trim the hedge under Charles' window - at the exact time Charles would take his tea. Every morning at ten without fail, Philip would be there - somehow with his shirt off and muscles flexing - and would lift his paw in friendly greeting to his master.

"If it comes to that," Charles said to the ceiling, "I've got work lined up for you with the Baroness Adelina. You'll like her. She's a young widow, and they say she's always in heat."

Philip coughed awkwardly. "And . . . what if Master Dick doesn't fire me, m'lord?"

Charles went still when Philip rubbed a meaningful paw over his thigh.

They were in bed together, in the quaint and greenly themed bedchamber in which Charles had spent the better part of his life at Howlester. They were in nothing but their smallclothes as they lay on top of the coverlet, side by side. But nothing had happened between them. Charles had insisted that nothing would. All he needed was for them to be in bed together when Dick came through the door. But Philip insisted . . .

Charles frowned, and with a blush, smacked Philip's squeezing paw away. "If Master _Dick_doesn't fire you, I just might!"

Philip dropped his eyes sheepishly. "I'm sorry, m'lord. I only thought perhaps . . ." He looked at Charles hopefully, his green eyes earnest.

Charles looked into that handsome face and thought he had the loveliest green eyes. Green was his favorite color. His bedchamber had been themed with it for a reason. He turned his gaze away. "I only want Dick to think we've been together. We're not really going to do anything. I just need to make him angry enough . . . that he hates me forever," Charles said dully.

"But, m'lord . . . I'm getting . . ." Philip's chest heaved and he gulped. He hooked his thumb in his smallclothes and tugged them down so that his fat organ flopped out. The scent of it slapped Charles' nose, hot and musky.

Out of the corner of his eye, Charles could see the soft pink penis. It pumped up a little, swelling thick, moving as it started to harden. Philip grunted as he watched his arousal coming. He looked at Charles helplessly.

"You can't leave me like this, Master Charles . . ." His brows pressed together, and he whispered sadly, "Master . . ." His paw closed on Charles' thigh again and squeezed.

This time, Charles didn't smack his paw away. He had to admit it: he had wanted Philip for years. He had even thought of sleeping with him just to get back at Dick for all the fooling around. But he never dared. It had never occurred to him that Philip actually liked males.

"Master Charles," Philip whispered happily. His paw slid down Charles' smallclothes and carefully closed around the soft warmth of his penis. Charles felt his glasses slip down his nose as Philip cupped his face and tenderly kissed him, fumbling all the while to tug his smallclothes down.

"Oh . . . Master Charles," Philip whispered and slid his tongue in his mouth. "Master . . ." he whispered against his lips and kissed him deeper.

Charles melted. He could feel his organ stiffening, hard and fast. His sudden and eager arousal shamed him. He wanted to stop, and suddenly flustered, he tried to pry himself free, but as he pulled his head back, Philip trailed kisses down his neck and licked his nipple. The gardener's strong paw smoothed over his slender body, squeezing, caressing, shaping. He slipped a finger in Charles' pink anus, and after looking at him with burning hunger, lowered his face and devoured him.

Charles twisted against the pillows and cried out. Dick was the only lover who had ever licked his anus, but Philip was doing it now, and so exquisitely. His hard fingers stroked the throbbing width of Charles' erection from head to base as his hungry tongue flicked inside, traced the rim, and lapped hotly.

Charles could feel his erection oozing as it strained in that incredible paw. Suddenly flushed with guilt, he struggled to break free. He was shocked when Philip grabbed him by the neck, and slamming him on the bed, he devoured his penis in long, hard sucks. Charles was so small and slender beside Philip, he knew he bigger male could have easily folded him up in a ball. The paw on his neck caressed soothingly with the thumb, but he hardly noticed as that hot mouth sucked and drooled on the heat of his helpless penis.

"No - Ph-Philip - P-Philip, stop --!"

"You heard him," growled a voice. "Stop."

Philip whimpered when Dick lurched into the room, and grabbing him by the mane, he threw him to the floor.

Lying on the bed breathless and mussed, Charles could feel his face getting hot. And as Dick looked at him, he suddenly realized his smallclothes were tangled around his ankles. His penis was still rock hard, bulging against his belly as he panted. Unable to look at Dick, he scooted to the edge of the bed and covered himself with a pillow.

Dick's burning eyes turned to Philip. "Get out. You don't work here anymore."

"Aye, m'lord," Philip said at once, and snatching his clothes from a nearby chair, he left as fast his sculpted calves could carry him.

Charles sat for a long time in the painful silence that followed, staring at his own white feet and the long pink nails that curled from the furry toes. He heard Dick moving quietly around the room and lifted his eyes when the young duke held his shirt out for him. The young duke. Charles smiled: Dick was a marquis no more.

"Come on," Dick said calmly and jiggled the shirt. "Get up so we can dress you, love. Come on. I won't . . . look."

"Yes, you will," Charles said with a miserable laugh.

Dick's eyes softened. "How could I help but look?"

Charles moaned inside but stood and allowed Dick to help him into his shirt. He kept his eyes down as Dick buttoned up his shirt for him, and he didn't know what to say. He silently prayed that Dick would speak first. If Dick hadn't figured things out, Charles did not want to spill the beans.

"So what was this charade?" Dick said and cursed when he came to a button that confounded him. Charles tried to take over but Dick insisted. "D'you ask Philip up here so I'd walk in on the two of you?"

Charles moaned. Damn him.

"And then what?" Dick said with a dry laugh. "I'd get dramatic? Scream at you? Tell you to leave Howlester?"

"It would have been best," Charles said miserably.

"And yet it backfired in your adorably guilty face," Dick returned. He shook his head, and with a half-smile, playfully flicked a white lock of mane from Charles' eyes and pushed his glasses up his snout. "I know Philip has wanted you for years. I told him if he ever laid a finger on you, Haskell would see to him personally. And what do you do? You invite him up here and he has his way with you."

Charles sighed heavily. "Are you done yet? I think I'm embarrassed enough here." He glanced miserably at his pink penis, which stood erect between the two of them as his shirt tented over it.

"What amazes me," Dick went on, "is that you actually thought I would fall for this mess."

Charles sank wretchedly on the edge of the bed. "Don't you understand? You've got to stop coming to me at night. It's over, Dick --"

"Nothing is over," Dick whispered and sank to his knees between Charles' thighs. He looked up into Charles' sad eyes and touched his cheek. "Nothing could keep me from you, baby." He smoothed his paws up Charles' thighs, pushing the shirt back from his erection. Charles watched, heart pounding, as Dick sucked him hungrily, slowly, wetly, letting his saliva spill to his soft scrotum.

"R-Richard - Oohh."

Charles' knees snapped shut on reflect: oral pleasure had always been too intense for him. But Dick knew his lover well: he was already holding his knees apart when it happened. He stroked Charles' thighs to relax him and sucked him so deeply and tenderly, it wasn't long before he squirted.

"Mm . . ." Dick licked his lips and watched as Charles' soft organ flopped on his thigh.

Gasping to catch his breath, Charles sagged forward, and their foreheads touched. "Why do you . . . do this . . . to me?" Charles panted miserably. He pulled away, adjusting his glasses. "You own the estate now. You're master here. Evelyn will be back soon, and your mother has made it pretty clear that it's best if I leave."

Dick scowled. "My mother! To hell with my mother --!"

"Master Dick!" squeaked a voice. "Your mother! You'd better come quick!"

They looked up to find Sarah standing in the doorway. Charles quickly pulled his trousers from the chair and over his lap as Dick scrambled to his feet.

"What about my mother, Sarah?" Dick pressed.

Sarah twisted her slender fingers, and when she ducked her head, her long golden tresses tumbled forward. "M'lord . . . Fassil thinks she's dying."