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lips and taste how sweet his happiness could be.
“I adore you, Finch,” Hugh said as the kiss concluded. “You are all that’s right and good in my
world, and I shudder to think what my life would be like without you in it.”
Finch shivered with delight and shifted closer to Hugh’s chest. In doing so, his hips rocked in
such a way that stirred Hugh back to partial hardness. Unable to resist, Hugh began to pump
into Finch with small, almost superficial thrusts that teased him back to full excitement.
“Oh, Hugh,” Finch moaned. “Yes.”
“You’re mine.” Hugh nipped the crook of Finch’s neck and continued to rock into him. “Mine.
Mine. Mine.”
The scent of Finch’s heat thickened in the air. It wouldn’t be much longer before he succumbed
to another bout of primal need. In anticipation, Hugh started moving faster, teasing Finch with
the girth of his knot. Finch moaned and kissed Hugh fiercely, and for a while they stayed like
that, kissing and tempting each other with pleasure they couldn’t quite realize.
“What changed your mind?” Hugh asked breathlessly as his knot began to slip. “Why tell me
who you really are now when you were so eager to hide before?”
“It was you.” Finch tangled his fingers in Hugh’s hair and squeezed around Hugh’s knot. The
pleasure was so intense that Hugh bucked involuntarily into him, driven wild by the sudden
tightness. Finch kissed him over and over, but it still wasn’t enough. Hugh needed him. Every
part of him. All of him. Forever. He’d almost forgotten what they were talking about when Finch
found it within himself to end the kiss and respond. “When you told me you wanted me despite
all the willing Disgraces waiting at the ball, that you’d care for me all my life and cherish me
until I died even if it meant you’d never have a clutch, I knew my fears were baseless. You
want me for me, not for what you think I can give you.”
Hugh’s knot slipped free, making Finch gasp with need. Not trusting himself not to remount
Finch immediately, he kissed his disheveled secretary one last time, relinquished his grip on
his hair, and slipped down Finch’s body to get another taste of his slick.
“Oh, Hugh, you can’t,” Finch breathed, but Hugh had already folded back his legs and seen
the mess they’d made together. He ran the flat of his tongue along the inside of Finch’s thigh
and tasted the sweetness spilled there, then worked his way inward. Finch tasted delightful
when freshly bred. Hugh would have to see to it that he stayed that way.
