by Merry Farmer
“Do you remember what the medallion looked like?” Niall asked, sifting through the curiosities in a glass-fronted cabinet in the corner of the room while Blake watched the way his arse stretched the fabric of his trousers instead of checking the artifacts above the fireplace.
“You’re the one who claims to remember every detail of what I was wearing that day,” Blake said, giving up his ostensible search to approach Niall from behind. “Don’t you remember what it looks like?”
He pressed himself against Niall’s back, cupping his backside and applying extra pressure to the cleft of his arse. Niall let out a shaky breath and turned into Blake’s arms.
“I remember what you looked like, naked and splayed like you were gagging for it, two nights before,” he said breathlessly, eyes zeroing in on Blake’s lips.
Blake hummed deep in his throat and grabbed Niall’s backside, jerking the two of them together. Niall sighed in acceptance, sliding his arms over Blake’s shoulders and indulging in a deep kiss that had their tongues tangled in no time.
“No. Wait,” he said a moment later, pulling away. “We have to find the medallion. Everything depends on it. It has to be here.”
“Maybe it’s in my bedroom,” Blake said, desire outweighing guilt as he watched Niall skitter across the room to get away from him, trousers tented. He should focus everything he had on fulfilling Ian’s conditions to return the children. But hadn’t one of those conditions been to expose himself and Niall? What better way to do that than to risk being caught by the servants again? “I bet we could find it between the sheets.”
“I bet we’d find something there.” Niall glanced over his shoulder as he reached the bookcase lined with fake papyruses at the other end of the room. “Two obelisks is my guess.”
Blake chuckled and started across the room to him. “I have a few ideas about where we could put—”
“What a magnificent room. I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before.”
Blake’s heart nearly stopped in his chest at the utterly ludicrous arrival of Lady Inglewood in the room. He snapped a curse before he could stop himself. The one saving grace of the nerve-splitting moment was that a high-backed chair stood between him and Lady Inglewood, saving him from the embarrassment of the woman seeing him with an erection big enough to hang a lantern on.
“Lady Inglewood,” he gasped. “What in God’s name—er, that is, what brings you to Selby Manor so late at night?”
“Is it late, your grace?” Lady Inglewood blinked obliviously, hiccupped, then laughed. “I suppose I lost track of time. Lady Fairport is hosting a ball this evening, and she dared to suggest to me that I could not coax you out of your self-imposed confinement. I told her she was off her nut, of course, and that you’d been to my house just last week for supper. She had the gall to call me a liar, can you believe it?” As almost an afterthought, she added, “Oh, hello, Mr. Cristofori. Are you still here?”
Niall had jumped behind a table piled with books about Egypt, which rested at a convenient height to hide him from the waist down. “I’m still here,” he said, face red.
“Sensational,” Lady Inglewood said, slurring the word.
Blake gaped at her. The woman was drunk. Drunk enough that he wasn’t sure she knew where she was or what she was seeing. That made it easier for him to step out from behind the chair, regardless of his state. “Lady Inglewood, who brought you here this evening, and can they take you home? I’m afraid you need a good, long rest, and perhaps some aspirin in the morning.”
“Your handsome, young butler showed me in,” Lady Inglewood said, pink-faced and grinning as Blake reached her side and rested a hand on her back to escort her into the hall. “Though I’m not sure the man knows what he’s doing. He said he was going to fetch you.” She happened to glance down at Blake’s trousers and made a sound of surprise and delight. “Ooh! Lord Selby! Cheeky!” She snorted into laughter.
Blake glanced to Niall, barely able to contain his giddiness over the surreal situation as he escorted Lady Inglewood back to the front hall. “Charles,” he called out for his first footman.
The hapless lad rounded the corner and let out a curse that had Lady Inglewood giggling and Blake ready to believe he’d passed through the looking glass. “I’m so sorry, your grace,” he said. “She got away from me.”
“Indeed,” Blake said, sending the man as stern a look as he could manage, under the circumstances.
“Lady Fairport will be so disappointed,” Lady Inglewood said, turning to grab Blake’s lapels. She sagged hard against him, her eyes hazy. “And here she’s convinced you’re in deep mourning, now that your sweet wife has returned to America.”
“America?” Blake laughed, suddenly anxious, prying her hands off of his jacket. “No, Annamarie isn’t in America.” He stopped short of saying she was in Blackpool, though.
“She will be soon. At least, that’s what I heard.” Lady Inglewood patted his chest, then allowed Charles to show her to the door. “But rest assured, we’ll find a better duchess for you.”
“I’m so sorry, your grace,” Charles said as he pushed Lady Inglewood out the door.
“Make sure she doesn’t come back,” Blake said, bristling with awkwardness over the whole situation. He turned back to Niall, who had waited by the stairs as the whole, bizarre incident played out. “That wasn’t even remotely what I expected to ha—”
Niall grabbed his hand, yanking him toward the stairs before he could finish.
“Come on,” Niall snapped. “Before we’re interrupted again. I’ve decided we have to skip step one and move directly to step two.”
Chapter 19
Niall didn’t think he could have written the situation he and Blake found themselves in more dramatically if he’d tried.
“Kidnapped children,” he muttered as he tugged Blake up the stairs, then hurried him down the hall to his room. “Ridiculous demands. Missing medallions. And now, drunken countesses interrupting everything.”
“And searing desire,” Blake added breathlessly as he leapt ahead, throwing open the door to his room and dragging Niall into the room behind him. “You forgot searing desire.”
“Love, I could never forget searing desire,” Niall said, slamming the door shut behind him with his foot and reaching for the lapels of Blake’s jacket. “No matter how hard I tried. And believe me, I tried. I did everything I could possibly think of to wipe you from my mind like—”
Blake didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the sides of Niall’s face and surged into him for a kiss that not only shut Niall up, it made him forget every thought he’d had for the last ten years. He let out a sound of acceptance and need as Blake thrust his tongue into his mouth and kissed him savagely. It was all he could do to scramble to push Blake’s jacket off his shoulders and fumble with the buttons of his waistcoat.
“I knew things weren’t over for us,” Blake gasped between powerful kisses, fumbling with Niall’s clothes the way Niall was attempting to peel off his. “I didn’t care how bleak things looked at graduation, I knew it wasn’t the end for us.”
“You had more faith than I did,” Niall confessed between ragged pants and kisses as he backed Blake toward the bed. “The world is cruel to men like us.”
“The world is beautiful,” Blake contradicted him, leaning back to stare into Niall’s eyes. The intensity of the fire and the affection in Blake’s hazel eyes was enough to drive the breath right out of Niall’s lungs. “You are beautiful,” Blake continued.
He leaned in for another kiss, but rather than being frantic and lusty, it was tender, and he slipped his arms around Niall’s sides, embracing him with a sudden gentleness that conveyed love a thousand times more than lust. It was enough to melt Niall’s heart and fire his desire to an even hotter intensity.
“I love you,” he said, sliding his hands over Blake’s shoulders and running his fingers through the silken mass of his hair. “I shouldn’t. I should protect myself. I made this mistake once before.
”
“I will never hurt you again,” Blake said on a sigh, pulling Niall’s shirt out of his trousers so that he could dig his fingertips into Niall’s back. “I will never betray you again, and I will never leave you for the rest of our lives, if that’s what you want.”
He pulled back with sudden anxiety in his eyes, his lips swollen from kisses, looking years younger, like his old self.
“God help me,” Niall said, the tension of a decade leaving him, “of course, that’s what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I never stopped.”
He tugged Blake closer, closing his mouth over his and kissing him as possessively as he could. All the tenderness in the world wouldn’t be enough to show Blake how deeply they were a part of each other. They were always meant to be. Class and duty and jealousy couldn’t change that.
Blake responded to Niall’s renewed passion with intensity. He pulled Niall’s shirt all the way out of his trousers, then made quick work of his trousers’ fastenings. Niall maneuvered them toward the bed as they did, and as the back of Blake’s legs hit his mattress, he pushed Niall’s trousers and drawers down his hips and reached for his prick. Niall groaned into Blake’s mouth as they kissed and Blake stroked. Every fiber of his being responded with pleasure that seemed heightened to dizzying degrees by the love they’d just confessed. Niall tried as best he could to pull off Blake’s clothes, but Blake was too intent on what he was doing to stop long enough to help him. Instead, Niall leaned back enough so he could rip his own shirt off over his head.
“You really are beautiful,” Blake panted, spreading his hands over Niall’s chest as soon as it was exposed, then sitting on the bed so that he would be at the right level to flicker his tongue over one of Niall’s nipples and suckle it. The sensation was so electric that Niall gasped as he buried his fingers in Blake’s hair. “You always were gorgeous,” Blake went on, pushing Niall’s trousers farther down his legs, “but your body is so perfect now.”
Niall opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say to a compliment like that. He didn’t have a chance to say anything as Blake stood suddenly and pivoted with Niall, switching their positions and shoving Niall gently to sit on the edge of the bed. Blake dropped to his knees to remove Niall’s shoes, kicking off his own in the process and unfastening his own trousers as though the tightness was too much, then yanking Niall’s trousers off from the cuff.
“I’ve missed this so much,” Blake sighed, pushing Niall’s knees apart and stroking his hands up Niall’s thighs.
He followed that by toying with Niall’s balls for the briefest of moments, then grasping the base of his cock and holding it how he wanted it. Niall let out a gasp that was far too loud as Blake bore down on him, taking him surprisingly deep before moving back to lick and caress the head of his prick with his tongue and lips.
“Dear God, I’ve missed this too,” Niall laughed, though his breathless laughter turned into sighs of pleasure as Blake continued to tease and suck him.
Ten years hadn’t lessened Blake’s skill one bit. He’d been a fast learner at university, and he was quick to recall everything Niall liked. He remembered just the way Niall liked the stroke of his tongue and the friction of movement as he took him deeper and deeper. It was so good, in fact, that Niall felt himself spinning out of control far too soon.
“Stop,” he gasped, pushing Blake away. “We’re not students anymore. We’re not going to bounce back and be ready for more if we spend what we have too soon.”
“Speak for yourself,” Blake said, glancing up at Niall from between his spread legs with a grin so cheeky it could have been enough to make Niall come. “I feel like I could go all night.”
Niall’s heart throbbed along with his prick. He hadn’t forgotten how much he loved Blake, but he was remembering every last one of his reasons for loving him and then some. “You always were insatiable,” he said, eager to explore that aspect of their relationship to the fullest. “Get out of those useless clothes and get your arse into bed where I can do what I want with it.”
Blake flushed deeper, and wanton excitement lit his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said, rocking back and standing.
Blake tore off his clothes as Niall threw back the bedcovers, then followed his instincts to check the drawer of the table beside Blake’s bed. He was rewarded by finding a jar of ointment. As Blake kicked off his trousers, Niall unscrewed the lid so it would be ready when they needed it. By the time he was done, Blake lunged into bed with him, nearly tackling him in his eagerness to get on with things.
Niall laughed. “Are you in some sort of hurry?” he asked as Blake pushed his shoulders, forcing him to his back in the center of the bed.
“I’m making up for lost time,” he panted, then rained kisses across Niall’s cheeks, lips, and neck. “I miss this neck so much,” he groaned, nipping and sucking at it.
“Hopefully you’re more careful about leaving marks than you were ten years ago,” Niall gasped, arching into every touch, every kiss. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of Blake’s back in his hands, even though Blake kept moving and making it impossible to grab hold.
“I think leaving a mark would be what Ian wants,” Blake said, then moved to kissing Niall’s chest.
“I don’t want to think about him right now,” Niall said. “I don’t want to think about anything but—” His sentence ended in a long, vocal sigh as Blake reached between his legs to finger him. It was sweet and sensual, and Niall could feel just how close they both were. Neither was going to make it much longer. “If you want to fuck me, I have absolutely no objections to that,” he panted.
“No.” Blake shifted to the side, reaching for the jar and handing it to Niall. “I mean, yes, sometime soon I most definitely want to fuck you until we’re both raw.”
Niall gasped with giddiness at the idea.
“But tonight, I need you in me,” Blake said, a sudden, serious look coming into his eyes. “I need you in me hard.”
A swoop of gravity passed through Niall’s insides as Blake shifted to his stomach, holding his backside up. “This is not some sort of punishment for the way things happened,” he said, lifting to his knees and scooping a generous dollop of the lubricant onto his fingers. “I’m never going to hurt you again the way I did after the show.” He coated his throbbing prick all the same before setting the jar aside.
Blake let out a deep gasp of pleasure as Niall teased his hole with the rest of the lubricant on his fingers.
“Blake,” Niall said, leaning over him, his cock pressed against Blake’s backside without thrusting in. He waited until Blake glanced over his shoulder at him. “Love is not a punishment. We were both wrong back then. But we can make things right now.”
The tension in Blake’s shoulders shifted. “I love you so much.” He arched back against Niall, urging him on.
The moment was so paradoxically sweet that Niall gave in to every instinct he had to merge with the man he loved. He gripped Blake’s hips and worked himself slowly and deeply inside of him. They both groaned at the pleasure of their joining, but rather than fucking Blake hard, like he’s asked for, Niall started tenderly, moving in concert with him as their bodies adjusted to each other.
He ratcheted things up as soon as he felt Blake grow restless, giving them both more of what they wanted. It was glorious to be so much a part of each other that way, and in no time at all, Niall was thrusting with all the intensity Blake could have asked for and more. It was so good that he reached around to hold Blake’s hard cock, letting the motion of his thrusts move his hand until Blake was practically sobbing with pleasure.
The sudden tightening of Blake’s muscles and the warm burst that spilled into Niall’s hand as Blake came with a cry were too much for Niall to resist. He jerked into orgasm seconds later, spilling himself deep inside of Blake. The moment was so perfect and so beautiful that he groaned, then curled around Blake’s back, all tension leaving him. He bit Blake’s shoulder lightly before pulling out and collapsing to hi
s side.
Blake lay limp and smiling with him. “How could I have gone for so long without that?” he asked, struggling to catch his breath. “My arse feels so perfectly used right now.”
Niall turned his head to Blake, grinning, then burst into laughter at the look of utter transportation in Blake’s eyes. “You always did look like a dream right after being fucked.”
“It’s because I enjoy it so much,” Blake said with feeling. “But only when you’re the one doing the fucking.”
Niall laughed, every muscle in his body feeling warm and liquid as he splayed on his back. There was no point in denying that, in that moment, he was blissfully happy. Even more so when Blake shifted to cuddle against him. Blake was all heart, and he wore that heart on his sleeve, especially where Niall was concerned. It came as a shock to Niall how much he had missed being showered with that sort of affection. He’d spent ten years hardening his heart so that he wouldn’t be hurt again, but that had been a terrible thing to do. He should have known that, in spite of his best efforts and insisting he wouldn’t fall into Blake’s arms again, he was meant to be right where he was, by Blake’s side, sweaty and satisfied.
“I suppose all of your theatrical lovers have been much better than me,” Blake said, eyes glittering and mouth swollen as he grinned. “They must have more experience.”
“Stop,” Niall warned him, twisting to his side and gathering Blake into his arms so that their overheated bodies plastered together in a dozen places. “I haven’t had that many theatrical lovers. Or any other kind of lovers either.”
“But you have had some,” Blake went on, playing with a damp piece of Niall’s hair.
“None that mattered,” Niall said, wishing parts of his past could be erased.
“Theater people are notoriously immoral,” Blake said, imitating the dowager from Lady Inglewood’s dinner party and resting his head on the pillow as he continued to gaze into Niall’s eyes and touch his face. “But I always loved theater people. One theater person in particular.”