Chapter 2: The Visitor
The kiss swallowed him whole. Hugo's mouth pressed hard, beard rough against Mark's jaw, tongue sliding in deep enough to make Mark's toes curl. Mark's hands came up and grabbed fistfuls of Hugo's hair, greying and thick, and pulled. Hugo grunted against his mouth and shoved a thigh between Mark's legs, pressing up against his cock until Mark's hips rocked on their own.
"Look at you," Hugo muttered, pulling back an inch. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed under the beard. "Already shaking."
"Shut up." Mark tugged his own shirt over his head, muscle and hair bared, and threw it on the floor. "You talk too much for a man who lives in the woods."
"Uh huh." Hugo's big hand came down on Mark's chest, palm flat, and pushed him flat onto the mattress. The springs groaned. Hugo followed him down, weight bearing on his forearms, caging Mark in. "I talk when I need to."
Mark's cock pressed stiff against his jeans, aching. "Fuck you!"
Hugo laughed, a low gravel sound, and set to work on Mark's belt for the second time. The buckle surrendered with a clink, and Hugo yanked his jeans and briefs down in one motion, peeling them off his legs and tossing them aside. Cool air hit Mark's skin and his whole body shivered.
"Fuck," Mark breathed.
Hugo ignored him. He took Mark's cock in his fist, strokes slow and deliberate, thumb scraping over the head. Pre-cum smeared, slick and hot. Mark's head dropped back against the pillow and he let out a ragged groan.
"Sensitive," Hugo observed.
"Fuck off!," he growled, the added, "Don't stop."
Hugo bent and took him in his mouth again, wet and deep, beard scraping along the shaft. Mark's back arched off the bed, a sharp cry tearing out of him. One big hand pinned his hip. The other reached down, fingers finding the jar of grease on the floor beside the bed, and Hugo worked himself free of his trousers one-handed.
"Sir, please," Mark said, voice cracking.
Hugo drew off with a wet sound, lip curled. "Please what?"
"Fuck me. just fuck me, I want you in me."
Hugo's gaze held him, heavy and certain. "You want it?"
"Yes."
"Then say it again. And look me in the eye while you do."
Mark dragged his head up off the pillow, forced his eyes to meet Hugo's. "Fuck me, sir. I want your cock inside my ass. I want you to fill me until I can feel it in my guts."
Hugo's pupils blew wide. He slicked two thick fingers with grease and worked them into Mark without ceremony, slow but relentless, curling until Mark's breath caught and his hips pressed down seeking more.
A third finger joined, stretching him. Mark grabbed the wool blanket. The burn was beautiful, sharp and deep, and Hugo worked him until he was loose and slick and begging.
"Now," Mark said, gritting his teeth. "Goddammit. Now."
Hugo pulled his fingers out, greased his cock, and pushed in. The head slid past Mark's rim and Mark's whole body convulsed. It wasn't their first time. Hugo knew to go slow from here, inch by inch, one hand cradling the back of Mark's skull so he couldn't look away. His chest pressed against Mark's, hair scraping skin, and he settled deep and held.
"Breathe," Hugo ordered.
Mark sucked air, chest heaving. Hugo was thick inside him, heavy, cock buried deep, to the root. He was in paradise. Mark was too, his legs hooked around Hugo's waist and he dug his heels in.
"Move," Mark said.
Hugo did. He pulled back and drove in hard enough to rock the bed frame against the wall. Mark shouted, head snapping back, and Hugo repeated it, relentlessly, a steady punishing rhythm that drove the breath out of Mark with every stroke. The bed creaked. The wall thumped. Hugo's beard ground against Mark's jaw, mouth working open and closed on his neck.
"That's it," Hugo grunted, voice like gravel. "Take it. All of it."
Mark's eyes rolled. He was close, cock trapped between their bellies, throbbing. "Sir, I'm gonna. I'm gonna come."
"Not yet."
Hugo slowed, drew almost all the way out, and pressed back in shallow and teasing. Mark whined, bucking his hips. "Don't. Please, I need it."
Hugo's hand closed around his throat, gentle pressure, fingers thick against his pulse. "You come when I tell you. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good boy."
Hugo drove in again, deep and fast, and the pressure coiled in Mark's gut like a fist. The cabin's warmth closed around them, sweat and sex and the wet slap of skin. Mark's hands clawed at Hugo's back pressing him down.
"I'm gonna come," Hugo warned, voice dropping low. "And when I do, you're gonna come with me."
"Please. Please, sir."
Hugo's hips slammed, hard and frantic, and he buried himself to the root and came with a hoarse grunt, spilling hot and deep inside Mark. The rhythm of it tipped Mark over the edge. His cock jerked between them and he came across his own stomach, shouting, body arching, the pleasure ripping through him like a storm.
They lay tangled, breathing hard, the sweat cooling on their skin. Hugo pulled out slowly with a wet sound and rolled onto his side, one heavy arm thrown across Mark's chest.
Mark's heart hammered. The ceiling blurred overhead. "Jesus," he managed.
Hugo's beard moved against his shoulder, like a smile. "You said less talk."
A violent knock split the silence. Three hard, fast blows against the cabin door, rattling the hinges. Hugo was on his feet in a heartbeat, and Mark's blood turned to ice in his veins as the door swung open.
A burly man loomed in the doorway, silhouetted against the dark. "Well, well," he said, voice like grinding gears. "Ain't this a picture."