Marquis
It wasn’t the way he lay there or the seduction in his eyes that drew Marquis in. It was the hope. Naked as nature intended, there was hope on his unburdened face.
“What secrets do you ponder, my love?” Marquis hadn’t meant to say that word,Love, but he did and he meant it.
“Just wise words from an old friend.” Mads smiled and it was like a moth to a flame. Natural.
Marquis drew Mads’s face in, connecting their lips. The kiss they shared made the world spin, magic sparking between them. It should have drained Marquis, but Mads filled fast and gave back far more than he took, amplifying his mage’s power as any good familiar.
They’d known that sex was a probability on the trip. An inevitability, really. They’d gone too long without touch. The eighty years apart was nothing compared to the last few weeks, when they could see one another, touch and sense. It was torture, and every familiar moment Marquis had welcomed into his heart so long ago came rushing back. He inhaled deeply and relished Mads and his entirety. “I missed you more than life itself.”
Another kiss, this time Mads’s provocation. The omega hadn’t been clothed from the moment they started, and Marquis regretted being unable to peel every layer of clothing off of him to worship every new stripe of skin. As if aware of it, Marquis’s wandering fingers halted their spread over his silken thigh with a fierce grasp. “Don’t do this if it bothers you. If—because I’ve been touched again.”
Marquis shook his head and leaned in, lips tracing the slight curve of his ear, breath stirring up his unique and earthy scent.“They say that every twenty-eight days, your entire skin sheds. It’s been over a year. I counter that there’s not an inch of your body that anyone has touched but me.”
“And a few doctors.” Mads snorted, and Marquis nuzzled his neck ever so gently.
“But do they really count? Is their touch equal to mine?” Marquis remembered their old passion, when they were young and raw. He’d had painfully little experience before and still hadn’t after, so Mads was all Marquis knew. No omega would do.
“Your name is branded on my heart. When you were so deeply pressed into me, nobody else could reach me.” Mads arched his back, tugged at the lapels of Marquis’s jacket, and hungrily welcomed him in for a kiss to end all kisses.
There was tongue, hot and wet, sliding back and forth. Lips plucked and slid, suction light and perfect. And he was hard, his slender cock digging into Marquis’s thigh. The scent of slick seemed to come from everywhere. Even his sweat seemed to hold that sweet aroma. Marquis pulled their mouths apart and licked along Mads’s neck.
Mads, with his previous lovers, had to perform for them. He did all the work, which is why he loved Marquis, how he worshiped Mads, made him feel worthwhile. Made him feel like more than a pennywitch. Marquis loved to slide his hands along his body, smooth and fine, like ivory, rare and expensive. Touching Mads’s skin reminded him of warm piano keys, pale and smooth, with the ability to play the most pleasing notes with only the right flex of his fingers. At the thought, Marquis slid a hand along his side to his thigh and flexed his digits, digging the tips of them into his supple flesh.
Nothing else would do but to breathe him in, his general fragrance so different, but the essence of him the same, familiar in a critical way that made his body react accordingly.
Erections had happened in the time they’d been apart. Sex, albeit infrequently, had occurred. Doris had been a patient lover but not a passionate one. And Marquis hadn’t been passionate with her, either. They’d been codependent.
He and Mads? They were obsessed with one another. Pathologically attached, as close to one another by soul and spirit as an addict was to wish. He shrugged off his jacket, letting his shirt fall behind it. Marquis might have popped a button trying to wrench it untucked from his pants. “How do we do this, my love?”
“Messily.” Mads kicked his feet, hooking a toe in Marquis’s waistband. Marquis tore away for long enough to unbuckle his belt and fought his way from the constrictive wool. “As fine as I remembered.”
Marquis nearly preened at the compliment to his clothing, but halted when Mads’s firm grip cupped and circled his cock. Marquis shuddered as it kicked, blood surging with a near tingle. “I can say the same of yourself.”
Mads scoffed. He always did. For such a conceited creature on the outside, he didn’t believe it. He used his body as a tool until Marquis had no use for tools. Only a partner.
With a stroke of his hand, Marquis brought Mads’s leg up against his, bending his knee up. His kisses went south, over his soft chest, his slender belly, tongue making a detour around his navel. “I missed this.” The whisper cracked in Marquis’s throat.
“I missedyou.” Mads arched his back and stifled a pitiable noise.
“That goes without saying. But I did miss you. I missed waking up with you staring at me from across the pillows. I missed how cold your hands get and how you sought my body for warmth. I missed the sound of your voice, the little tantrums, and how such small things made you so joyful.” Marquis nuzzleddown to brush his lips through the sparse thatch of silvery ha—he’d not paid attention, but Mads wasbare.
“What’s this?” Marquis pulled his head back and brushed fingers over Mads’s groin, tracing fingers over smooth, pale flesh, absent of his pale hair.
“It’s the current fashion, I was told.” Mads spread his legs, putting his bare expanse on display. It did make his cock seem bigger, but Marquis paid the appendage no heed in that regards. It was merely a way to provide more pleasure to his mate.
“I adore your body with or without your hair. If it’s any pain or inconvenience, I wouldn’t put that upon you.” Marquis couldn’t help brushing his fingers over the smooth skin. “I loved your hair, too.”
“And if it never comes back?” The question came from Mads’s lips, voice stilted and weak.
Baron had a preference for his men without hair. He’d bragged about it, and of course he’d have done something to keep it from coming back. He’d left a permanent mark. Marquis brushed his fingers over the smooth surface. “Then I cannot complain. I love you as you are.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” Mads glanced down and then back up.
“Stop thinking about it.” Marquis pushed his head farther down and nuzzled along Mads’s softening cock. “No inviting others into our bed.”
Mads opened his mouth to say something that fizzled out into a whimper, mind tarried away as Marquis’s tongue did what it could. Mads was terrible at advocating for his own pleasure, so Marquis had to take initiative. And he did so by swallowing Mads’s cock down to the root, tongue swilling along the underside.
