by Megan Mulry
“I feel like I’ve been hard for weeks.” He gasped when Christopher licked the length of his erection.
“Tell me about her,” Christopher said in a throaty voice while he continued licking and teasing.
“I shouldn’t speak of her while you and I are . . . like this . . .”
Christopher kept up with those tantalizing licks and hints of suction, without ever taking him full into his mouth. “If you want me to suck you off, Archie, I want you to talk about her. Doctor’s orders.” He cupped Archie’s balls with a firm hold. “Tell me about Selina’s lips . . .”
Archie couldn’t help it; he canted his hips toward Christopher and groaned at the mention of Selina’s pouty, full lips.
“That’s it . . . describe her mouth to me . . . or her other lips . . .”
Clenching both hands around Christopher’s head, he tried to force the man’s mouth onto his straining cock, but his friend was just as intent as he was, and his neck muscles resisted.
“Do you picture her doing this?” Christopher smiled devilishly, then curled his tongue around the bulging head of Archie’s cock. He still refused to take him in.
“Oh God.” The words spilled out. “Her lips are full and red as summer berries and slightly darker at the edges—” Archie gasped as Christopher dove at his cock, taking him full and deep with hard suction. Christopher moaned his encouragement. “She blushes when I compliment her hat.” He spoke eagerly, the dam breaking. “But then she doesn’t blush at all when she shows me her slick pussy—” He growled when Christopher deep-throated him to the hilt. “Oh God, man, she is so raw and honest . . . so inappropriate . . .” His voice cracked and shredded over the words. “She wants to do this to me, I know she does . . .”
He bucked as Christopher began an in-and-out pace of slow, strong pulls. When the speed accelerated, he tried to disentangle all the threads of his desire—Selina’s sweet mouth, Christopher’s knowing tongue, his own physical cravings—until it all wove together and he cried out his release. Christopher swallowed every ounce of him, consumed every drop of his shameful lust for Miss Selina Ashby.
“Jesus, Archie. How long have you been holding that in? You nearly blew the back of my head off.” With a suggestive smile, Christopher swiped the tip of his tongue to the edge of his mouth. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“What the hell am I going to do?” Archie asked through halting breaths.
“Why don’t you marry her?”
Archie sighed as he rubbed his face with both hands. “She’s not at all what I had hoped for in a wife. In fact, she would be a terrible wife.”
“Then don’t marry her.” Christopher laughed as he began to pull Archie’s trousers the rest of the way off.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” He removed Archie’s boots, and then yanked off his breeches and underwear in one swift tug. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Christopher . . .”
“You always have to be convinced, Archie. And you’re always grateful after. If I had a mind to, I’d write Miss Ashby a letter and tell her so—”
“You wouldn’t—”
Christopher laughed again, this time while he was removing his own trousers. “Maybe not right away, but if she continues to vex you, I’d be willing to risk your temporary ire for your long-term happiness.” Christopher gestured for him to turn onto his stomach, which he did without question, as if they were having a picnic and Christopher had asked him to pass the wine. “God, you’ve got a fantastic arse.” Christopher gave him a quick, appreciative slap on his bum, then continued speaking. “You’ve always needed a firm hand. Why shouldn’t it belong to your wife?”
“Would you choose such a wife?” Archie asked, looking over his shoulder.
“I’ve no interest in a wife, you know that. The only things I like to do are fuck you and work on my experiments—and to go to sleep quite happily alone. And there’s nothing matrimonial about any of those desires.” Christopher rubbed his hand in provocative circles on Archie’s arse. “I’d be a terrible husband, and an even worse father. But you, you’ve always wanted that sort of life—the spread in Derbyshire, lots of little Archies running around—not to mention the hot press of soft female flesh in your bed every night. You love consistency. Order.” Christopher gave him another firm smack. “Maybe she’s not precisely what you’d envisioned, but maybe that’s because what you envisioned in a wife was wrong, not because Miss Ashby is wrong.”
Archie tried to think about the words, but he was becoming too distracted by Christopher’s hands on him. Christopher had removed Archie’s shirt and was smoothing his hands along Archie’s back and thighs. They were both naked now, and with his eyes closed and his face turned, he could easily imagine Christopher and Selina were both there, both caressing him in that preparatory way.
“Incredible specimen. Honestly, you should do Selina the great favor of letting her have the run of this body. She’s probably frigging right now, picturing your muscled back and your firm thighs and your huge cock . . .”
Archie groaned and shoved his face harder into the sofa cushion.
Christopher began to rub liniment in and around Archie’s eager, puckering arsehole. “Look at you, just begging for it.” Archie hated when Christopher narrated like this, even though it got him rock hard after having come only a few minutes before.
“Yes, you despise when I recount all the salacious details while I fuck you, don’t you? How good your balls felt when they slapped against my chin while you came in hot spurts against the back of my throat, how tight your arsehole is going to feel around my throbbing cock.” Archie’s whole body was gearing up for the invasion, his hips and arse tilting and rocking in silent entreaty. He could hear the slick sounds of more cream being spread onto Christopher’s cock, and the other man’s low moans as he prepared to enter him.
“You hate the talking—” The head of Christopher’s cock breached his anus, and he felt the joy and relief shudder through him as his body welcomed the penetration. “But oh, how you love the doing.” Christopher pushed his way home and held them both perfectly still, fingers digging deep into Archie’s hips, both of them suspended in time. Very slowly, he withdrew almost entirely, and Archie was about to beg for his return, when Christopher thrust back in with a confident, powerful stroke. He maintained a steady rhythm after that, trailing up and down Archie’s spine with his fingertips. “I won’t make you talk.”
His pace increased, every incursion a silken whip, the words reminding Archie of Selina. Christopher leaned down the length of his back, covering him like an animal, and began to nip at his shoulder where it met the straining muscles of his neck.
Reaching one hand around, Christopher took hold of Archie’s cock and began working it in time with his thrusting. “I don’t need you to speak, Archie, because you’re so damned obvious.” His voice was hot and low, close to his ear. Christopher bit on the soft lobe. “Your body was made to fuck and be fucked, Lord Camburton.” His pace was becoming erratic, but he kept on with those taunting words and nips and bites. “And I bet the astute Miss Ashby sees how very vigorous you are—”
Archie moaned into the upholstery at the mention of Selina, his body peaking again, wanting all the sweat and filth, wanting Christopher to defile him in this powerful, mutual way. But not Selina. Not in this way. Not like this.
But yes Selina. Yes in this way. Yes like this.
“Think of Selina’s hot pussy tight around your cock while I fuck you like this—” Christopher’s incendiary words set him alight. Not Selina! his mind protested, as every muscle exploded and gripped and sighed and shuddered, as his body said Yes Selina! in every way except words.
Christopher eventually released his hold on Archie’s softening cock, then pulled out of him and rolled off his back. They both breathed into the silence for a few minutes. “She’s in you, Archie. Have a care. You’ve never cried out anyone’s name in all the years I’ve known you.”
“You most certainly did.” Christopher picked up his snifter of brandy where he’d left it on the carpet. “No hard feelings, old chap; I never thought we were exclusive.” He winked lightheartedly.
Archie smiled at his friend’s easy banter, then his face fell. He trailed the palm of his hand up and down his stomach, touching the sticky residue of his release as he made the pass. The image popped into his mind of Selina’s lips, of Selina bent there, tasting him, cleaning him, wanting him again—
“Aw, fuck it.” He sat up and began to put his clothes on.
“That’s probably a good place to start with her,” Christopher lobbed.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll just fuck her. Maybe I’ve been utterly misguided in my foolish attempts to respect her.”
Christopher paused before drinking, and then tilted his head slightly. “You fuck me and respect me. They’re not mutually exclusive, you know.”
Archie stared at him after he finished pulling his trousers up. “That’s an absurd analogy. You’re my friend. And you’re a man.”
“I’m a human being, Archie.” Christopher’s smile was bittersweet. “And perhaps this Selina Ashby is a human being too.”
It’s just a carriage ride. It’s just a carriage ride. At least, that’s what Selina kept telling herself. Her aunt had insisted on hiring a coach to take them from Tavistock Street to Mayfair early Monday morning, ostensibly to visit with Vanessa and Nora, with whom Diana had been well acquainted over the years. But Selina was certain Diana’s accompaniment was mostly to provide her aunt with a closer inspection of the marquess.
“It’s just a carriage ride, Selina,” Diana echoed. “You’ll be fine.”
The coach came to a stop in front of the Grosvenor Square mansion, and Selina took a deep breath and pulled her gloves tighter.
“You look splendid. No need to fuss.”
“I don’t care how I look.” She flushed at the lie.
Diana smiled and glanced out the window. “Apparently someone else does.”
Selina turned quickly to see Archie walking down the shallow steps that led from the open front door. Two footmen in deep green finery stood behind him. “Why does he come out to greet us? He’s supposed to be waiting in his drawing room with a bored expression on his face.”
“He doesn’t look at all bored to me.” Diana turned as the door opened.
“Lady Ashby.” Archie held his hand out to assist Diana. “My mother and Nora will also be very happy to see you.”
“Thank you, Lord Camburton. It’s been many years since I’ve seen you.”
He smiled. “Yes. I believe I was still in short pants.”
Selina watched as Diana looked into his sparkling amber eyes, and knew her aunt would see nothing but transparent good will. Selina was in such a load of trouble.
“Miss Ashby.” Archie’s voice was slightly deeper when he spoke this time, as he reached into the coach to assist her. She considered refusing his aid, as she had last week, but she decided she would not stoop to petty acts of rebellion.
“Thank you, my lord.” She rested her gloved fingers in his and dipped her head as she stepped down to the pavement. She began to pull her hand away but he held firm, so she was forced to look up into his handsome face.
“Have you enjoyed your week in town?” He put her hand to rest on his forearm as he led them into his home.
“Yes. And you?” She was struck by his simmering confidence. Gone was the agitated companion she had endured for those endless three days the previous week.
“Very satisfying, yes,” he replied easily.
If she didn’t know better, she would have surmised he’d spent the past week in the arms of a mistress, but he couldn’t have—
“Mother. Nora. Lady Ashby.” They were all standing in the drawing room, and Archie turned to each of them as he spoke. “I’m afraid Selina and I really must be on our way if we are going to make Rockingham by nightfall.”
“Rockingham?” Selina tried not to show her dismay.
“Yes. I’ve received word from FitzWilliam of a significant nature, relating to the government’s support of the vaccinations, and I’d like to stop there for a night or two if you don’t mind.”
She pulled her hand from his. “I do mind. His wife is related to my mother’s family. I would rather not.” Her voice was low, and the three older women were doing their best to maintain a pleasant conversation a few feet away without turning in her direction.
“You can’t run away your whole life.”
Selina inhaled sharply at his unfamiliar contempt, and Diana turned her head quickly, no longer able to feign disinterest. “Is everything all right, Selina?”
“Yes, Aunt. It appears Lord Camburton has made other arrangements for his journey, so I will be taking the stagecoach.”
All three women began speaking at once.
“That is preposterous—”
“Certainly not—”
“You will ride with us—”
“Ladies, please.” Archie spoke carefully, looking briefly at her and then to the others. “I can easily write FitzWilliam and let him know I will visit him another time. I just thought since it was right along our route”—he stared pointedly at Selina—“it would not bother Miss Ashby one way or another if we stopped at Rockingham or at an inn in Northampton.”
“Oh, it’s Rockingham?” Vanessa was all enthusiasm. “It is a spectacular spot, Selina. You will simply adore it.” Archie’s mother always exuded an almost childlike joy. She clasped her hands as she described the castle from memory. “It would be the perfect setting for one of your novels—all medieval walls and hidden passages. You should see it, for research purposes if nothing else.”
“I have visited the place, but thank you. I would hate to impose,” Selina tried lamely.
Diana narrowed her eyes. “If it’s Lady FitzWilliam you’re worried about, she is no friend of your mother’s.”
There was a brutal silence as everyone in the room grasped the meaning of the words and the nature of Selina’s resistance.
Steeling her voice, Selina fought the familiar and terrifying impression they were all joining forces to rally against her. “I would be imposing, Aunt.” She had been in a room full of people rallying against her in the past, and it had not ended well.
Diana faced Archie. “Did you mention in your correspondence that you would be traveling with Miss Ashby?”
“Of course.” Archie pursed his lips, apparently resenting that he would be questioned in this way. Selina almost smiled at how he clung to these rules of social order.
“And Lord and Lady FitzWilliam extended the invitation to both of you?” Diana pressed.
“Of course.” He exhaled, and it was just shy of a huff.
“Selina,” Diana encouraged, “please go. Take it as an opportunity to visit with one of your extended relations while Lord Camburton discusses his scientific matters with Lord FitzWilliam. I think it a fine plan.”
Selina almost blurted that if Diana thought it such a fine plan, then she should accompany the marquess on his visit to Rockingham herself. They were all looking at her expectantly. “Oh, very well.” She threw up her hands and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“Excellent,” Nora said. “That’s excellent. And then Vanessa and I will be back at Camburton in a fortnight or so, and all will be well. All of us tucked up in Derbyshire for the winter being productive as bees in summer, yes?”
“Yes, we shall.” Selina tried to emulate some of Nora’s enthusiasm.
Archie pressed the flat of his palm against the small of her back, and she felt it singe through her, the heat of that gentle touch making her grateful for the thick layers of chemise, corset, dress, and coat that kept her responsive breasts concealed.
His voice grew kind, nothing like th
e sharp tone he’d used with his running-away comment. “Are you ready, then?”
“Yes, thank you. I am ready.” She hugged her aunt one last time, clasped hands with Vanessa, then Nora, and within a few moments she and Archie were settled inside the compartment of his luxurious traveling coach. She kept her gaze fixed on the passing homes and parks of Mayfair, then Kensington, then watched as the congestion of the city began to fade as they went farther into the countryside.
“Was it too cold for you to sit outside with the coachman this time?” she finally asked, regretting it immediately.
“Selina . . .” His voice was so tender, and she resented that too, the way it made her heat up and throb when he said her name, the way she imagined him saying it close to her ear, with the soft turn of his lips touching her sensitive skin.
She shut her eyes in frustration. He did not fancy her. In fact, she probably repulsed him. With eyes still closed, she replied, “Yes, Archie?”
“Please look at me.”
Earlier this morning, she had hoped his repressive good manners would keep them both in check on the return journey. However annoying, at least his self-control had always been reliable. She turned her head and opened her eyes slowly. He was as beautiful as ever. His dark-blond hair combed perfectly, making her fingertips itch to ruin it, to ruin him; his amber eyes perceptive and kind, with an underlying hint of that avid curiosity that defined him; his lips . . .
She had to look away again. His lips always tormented her. She felt them on her body at night. They were firm when he spoke, but when they had kissed under that tree a few weeks ago, oh dear, they had been incredibly soft when seeking entrance to her welcoming mouth. Those lips, if no other part of his body or soul, wanted her.
“I can’t.” The countryside went by in a blur, and her eyes began to burn. “I can’t look at you.”
She heard and felt the shuffling movement of him crossing from the other side of the carriage to sit beside her. “Please.” His voice was close and so gentle.
She turned to face him, and he was indeed close, far too close. He took her gloved hand in his and began undoing the small buttons at her wrist.