Free The Butcher and the Beast by Sean Michael

unwilling responses of the last few days missing. His growl got louder and he bit this time, bringing blood up. Those eyes never flinched, held his, so strong. He licked the blood away, letting the taste fill him as he pushed their hips together. Grey refused to move, to look away, to do anything.
    Damn the man! John pushed harder, erection rubbing along Grey’s, hands tightening on the trapped wrists. That stare didn’t falter, Grey’s fingers clenching into fists. He kicked Grey’s legs apart, hand reaching down into the man’s pants to squeeze Grey’s balls. He would get a reaction. Those eyes went dark, jaw clenching. There, he was close.
    He pushed his hand beyond the sensitive balls, finger pushing along Grey’s entrance, relentless, insistent. Those eyes filled with tears, but still stared, Grey’s throat working, his body tight. John pushed his finger in, taking what was his to take, thoughts of seduction fading under Grey’s refusal to admit his attraction.
    Grey’s eyes closed, the doctor shuttering himself away, drawing into a still silence.
    With an angry half-roar, John yanked his fingers away, flipping Grey so he faced the wall and ripping the man’s breeches from his ass. Grey went limp, motionless, refusing to fight him. Angry, John tore the rest of the man’s clothes off, kicking Grey’s legs farther apart. Grey refused to stand, refused to move, stayed as limp as a rag.
    John roared and flung the man from him, tossing Grey to the floor. “Where is your pride now, Butcher?”
    Those eyes stared at him, angry, cold, strong.
    “Would you prefer I toss you to the dogs in my crew? They’ll make easy pickings of a sweet thing like you.” If Grey stopped being entertaining…
    One eyebrow arched, those eyes snapping.
    “The devil you know or all his little minions, Grey—your choice.”
    Moving faster than he’d give the man credit for, Grey moved across the floor, grabbing a heavy statue and hurling it at his head. He ducked out of the way, humming, his cock perking up. Yes. There was that fire, the response he craved.
    Grey pulled a cutlass from beneath the bed, holding it with a surprisingly sure grip.
    “Well, well, well. There’s your backbone. You almost look as if you know how to use that thing.”
    A strong feint came, slicing the sleeve of his shirt, the threat clear.
    John was impressed. “Not bad,” he murmured casually, moving to the right, giving himself more room to maneuver.
    The sword flashed again, cutting the other sleeve, driving him toward the door. Make that very impressed.
    “And what exactly do you plan to do once you’ve run me through? Throw yourself overboard?” By the black-hearted devil, John wanted the man. And more, he wanted Grey to be equally as moved. All that anger and passion turned on him. He nearly groaned from it.
    “Open the door and lead me to a longboat, or I’ll slit you from jaw to hip.”
    “Come now, Butcher, I thought you’d taken an oath to preserve life.” He didn’t know when he’d ever been so hard.
    Another flash, another lunge, a line of blood appearing above his nipple. “The door.”
    John swallowed his whimper, forced his hips to still. Oh, by the horned devil, he wanted. Grey would give himself or he wasn’t John the Beardless, pirate captain. “What about it?” he asked, playing dumb.
    “Open it and tell your men to stand back. Then you will walk me to the rowboats and set me free.”
    John laughed, genuinely amused. “Oh, Butcher, I can’t do that.”
    “I will unman you, Pirate. Do not mistake me.”
    A shiver of excitement went through him. Would Grey actually attempt to do it? Did the man truly have that kind of strength? The thought of it was indeed intoxicating. “I will not let you do that.”
    Grey struck him with the blade again, nicking his hip. “You are not armed, demon.”
    “But you cannot hurt me.” He watched the blood slowly stain his breeches. “I like your version of foreplay,