“You are so.And I Iove it.”As Rollo twisted his head around for a kiss, Lyndon stroked himself—showing off his size and his desire.
“I simply know what I want,” Lyndon stated.
“You want to be my captain,” Rollo responded around Lyndon’s mouth.“And I want that too.”
When their lips parted, Rollo’s eyes fixed on Lyndon’s engorged member.He swallowed once, and then his words came out in a rush.
“I liked it when you smacked me.I…I have not experienced that before.It…I liked it.Please.”
Thatplease.Desperate, self-conscious.A little uncertain, a half question.Lyndon might not have invited a man to his bed before, he might not have a silken tongue, but he knew neediness when he saw it.“What?You mean like this?”
Before his pup had time to think, Lyndon delivered a sharp smack to his rump.And then another to the other cheek as Rollo yelped.And then a third when he begged for more.Then Lyndon soothed the red welts with his palm as his finger strayed back to Rollo’s hole.
“You want me inside you now, my precious?”
Rollo pushed up against his fingering, sucking him in farther, writhing on him, unashamedly pleasuring himself.“Please, my lord,” he whimpered and looked back, his pupils blown wide.“Please.”
Lyndon’s cock nestled between Rollo’s buttocks as if coming home.The swollen head teased at the gaping hole.Rollo shuddered into him with a whimpering sigh.So soft and pliant like this, when he was at Lyndon’s mercy.So capricious and scratchy when he wasn’t.
“Perhaps I’ll rest myself here awhile first,” Lyndon tormented.False bravado.The 1st Royal Dragoons on his mantel, if they came to life, couldn’t have held him back.
“Then I shall dissolve in a lake of agony all over these fine sheets,” panted Rollo.“Inside.This second!”
For all he wanted to tease, for all he wanted to take back control, Lyndon couldn’t stop himself.Inch by inch, he sank into his lover, sensing when to push forward from Rollo’s needy cries and gasps, and then sensing when to still.When to kiss him, when to whisper the foolish type of sentiments one only ever felt moved to whisper in the heat of the damned thing, yet carried on the tip of one’s tongue for most of the day.
And then, as heat and want and urgency flooded him, it became simply two desperate bodies pressed against each other, united as one, cock’s surging and hearts thumping.Doing that silly, undignified, indecorous thing that bodies were made to do, that after a certain point they did instinctively, of their own accord.And Lyndon held Rollo’s hands tightly in his through all of it.He left gentle caresses on Rollo’s skin.He buried his nose into the warm column of Rollo’s neck, breathing in his biscuity smell.And Lyndon’s heart ached with how he was so maddeningly, undeniably falling in love.
Afterwards, they snoozed where they fell, messily tangled and too wrecked to move.When Lyndon eventually hauled himself away, it was to bring Rollo a washcloth.Sleepily, Rollo allowed him to wipe it across his belly and between his lax, open thighs.
“You are a kinder man than you allow others to see, Lord Lyndon.”
“You are alone in that opinion, pup.”
“No.”He shook his head.“Your servants here would disagree.And so will your old London acquaintances, given time.You are changed.Whilst we cannot help others judging us by our past, it should not dictate our futures.”
“Huh.”Lyndon’s brain wasn’t quite ready for a philosophical discussion regarding the past.Nor a future.Especially one pertaining to himself.But then, if not in the dark stillness of a bedchamber with one’s lover as a shield, then when?
He climbed back into bed.Fearful Rollo might return to his own bedchamber, he made it challenging for him by wrapping him up in his arms and, to be certain, resting his solid leg across both of Rollo’s.Then he took a deep breath.“You once asked me why I became a changed man.I did not give you a fully honest answer.”
In the curve of Lyndon’s arm, Rollo lay very still.“Do not feel obliged to do so now,” he answered softly.“That you are changed is enough.It relates to your friend, does it not?”
“Yes,” Lyndon exhaled.“Will Elliot.The son of Henry Elliot, a tenant farmer.His mother was Mary Elliot, she worked in the kitchens alongside Cook.They were good, honest folk.”
“I have seen their grave markers at the chapel.That they were well-loved, and remain so, is clear.”
“I keep them tidy,” admitted Lyndon, “because Will cannot.”
He stared up at the ceiling, unseeing, letting his reminiscences wash through him.“When he was small, Will used to come to the house with his mother and play with Benedict and myself as she worked.We are of an age.And then, as we became older, he would come to the house alone and play private games with me.”
“You had a greattendrefor each other.”
Lyndon huffed a small laugh, giving his bed mate a sharp poke.“We did.I believed it to be nothing but a youthful folly, but have since come to realise that I have an…an attraction to both the male and the female sex.Alas, for Will, I always suspected it was nothing but a passing infatuation.”
He rubbed his nose against the top of the Rollo’s fair head, breathing in his sweet warm scent.“Will was a virile, unworldly youth with a preference for women.But there were very few comely and unmarried ones within ten miles of Goule.If things had been different, I daresay he would have soon found one and consigned me to the playroom along with dusty old swords and dresses.”He chuffed again.“And for my part, it’s hard to believe, but I was far more winsome than I am now and, of course, possessed the intrigue of being the son of a duke living in this fine house.”
He smiled at the memory before an unpleasant thought struck him.Rollo was not much older now than Will had been then.What if… “You are not that way yourself?Awaiting a time when you can more readily seek out female company?”
Rollo snuffled a laugh against his chest.“Do I act like a man created to please a woman?I should sooner sprout wings and fly.”
