Viscount’s Wager

by Ava March

  And Anthony’s spirits soared. An amazing rush, lighting up his senses, yet in the same moment, it was as though his soul settled, like it found what it had been searching for during the past seven years.

  * * *

  Gabriel felt himself leaning closer and closer to Anthony. He could not—would not—have stopped even if his life depended on it.

  Anthony’s lashes swept down in a show of trust that was almost staggering in its purity.

  Gabriel closed the last remaining inches between them and brushed his lips across Anthony’s. The touch light, but not tentative. More of a request.

  A soft sound, the yes clear as day to Gabriel’s ears, issued from Anthony’s throat.

  Closing his eyes, Gabriel tipped his head slightly and deepened the kiss.

  Anthony’s lips parted beneath his, opening for him, welcoming him, just as he had once done.

  A force wrapped around Gabriel’s chest, tugged at his heart. This is where I am meant to be.

  And it was as if there had been no years apart. As if he had always—and only—been with Anthony.

  For the longest moment, time seemed to stand still. Their lips pressed together. Anthony beside him. The masculine scent of him. The warmth of his body.

  Then Anthony shifted ever so slightly, and the spell of quiet wonder was broken.

  The first touch of Anthony’s tongue against his own ignited a blazing hot need within Gabriel. A need for more. A need that felt so very right. Anthony’s breaths puffed against his cheek as their tongues tangled together. Leaning into him, Anthony grabbed Gabriel’s shoulder, fingers digging into Gabriel’s muscles, demanding more.

  Desperate to have Anthony closer, to feel the weight of his strong body, to get his hands on that strong body, Gabriel tugged on Anthony’s waist. Anthony moved to straddle Gabriel’s lap. As though they possessed a mind of their own, his hands went immediately to Anthony’s arse to grab hold of those firm muscular cheeks.

  “That’s it. Grab me,” Anthony whispered against his lips.

  Gabriel tugged them even closer together. The hard arch of Anthony’s erection within his trousers nudged against his own. And that bit of intimate contact...

  Gabriel’s hips bucked up, needing more.

  Anthony moaned.

  They ground against each other, rubbing hard length against hard length. The fabric of his trousers and drawers should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. The friction felt so good. Anthony felt so good. The kiss continued on, growing fiercer, stronger, as lust grabbed full hold of them. Gabriel’s fingers flexed against Anthony’s cheeks, pulling them apart to delve in that wicked crease.

  “You want that arse?” Breaths coming in harsh pants, Anthony nipped at Gabriel’s lower lip. “It’s yours.”

  Anthony’s blunt words rocked through Gabriel. So coarse, so wicked. He made Gabriel want to be wicked in return. To throw off all restraint, to make Anthony beg for more.

  A groan shook Gabriel’s chest. Eyes still closed, he lurched forward, captured Anthony’s mouth, devoured it.

  He felt Anthony’s weight shift. One of the arms wrapped around Gabriel left his neck. Then fingers tugged at his coat’s cuff. He released his hold on Anthony’s arse. A hand found his and pressed cool glass into his palm.

  Breaking the kiss, Gabriel brought his hand between them. He looked down to the glass vial in his palm. A glass vial filled with what looked to be oil. He had overheard a whispered conversation or two when he’d been at Eton. Conversations that mentioned a need for oil when it came to intimate matters between men. So he had a fair idea why Anthony had given him the vial.

  He met Anthony’s gaze. Chest heaving and lips wet and reddened, Anthony lifted a brow in question.

  Gabriel had a handsome, eager man on his lap. A handsome, eager Anthony on his lap. And before him was the offer he’d wanted for so very long to accept.

  Crippling, stifling, suffocating uncertainty began to rear its head.

  “Perhaps another night?” Anthony whispered, as if he could sense the direction of Gabriel’s thoughts.

  “No. Tonight. Now. I want you.”

  The words were out of his mouth, and they felt...beyond good.

  And Anthony’s reaction?

  Even goddamned better. Bloody fantastic.

  Anthony let out a groan soaked in agreement. He tugged on the waistband of Gabriel’s trousers. “Yes. Now. I want your cock.” He nipped at Gabriel’s bottom lip again, then quickly moved to stand between Gabriel’s spread knees. “Let me see it.”

  In no time at all, Anthony’s waistcoat and shirt were fluttering to the floorboards. Then Anthony tugged at the placket of his own trousers, pushed the garment down his legs. His erection sprang free, the length thick and hard, the head flushed with need. A quick shift of his weight, and he’d toed off his shoes and stepped free of his trousers.

  Anthony stood completely bare before him. There was not a stitch of clothing to obscure Gabriel’s view. Gabriel soaked up the sight of him, marveling at the change the years had made to his body. The strong muscles honed to perfection. The inherent strength of his legs and arms. The broad width of his chest, and the faint sprinkling of blond hair that narrowed to a fine line that led to his gorgeous cock. The twin globes of his ballocks were drawn up tight, making Gabriel’s fingers itch to trace the delicate curves.

  “Go ahead. Show me,” Anthony prodded.

  The lust, the need in Anthony’s gaze...

  Gabriel couldn’t get his trousers unbuttoned fast enough. Lifting up slightly, he shoved them down his hips, freeing his erection. A swipe of his hand, and he moved the tail of his shirt to the side.

  A smile spread across Anthony’s mouth. “Very nice,” he murmured. His cock bobbed between his thighs as he moved to get back on the couch. The instant before his knee hit the cushion, he bowed low, his head dropping down to Gabriel’s lap. A hot wet sensation dragged across the head of Gabriel’s cock.

  Oh hell. That had been Anthony’s tongue.

  A shiver of decadent pleasure rippled up Gabriel’s spine. A moan rattled his throat. Before the sound could escape his lips, Anthony was back straddling his lap, his mouth slanting over Gabriel’s, silencing that moan.

  Warm, silken skin backed by iron pressed against Gabriel’s erection. Damnation, that was Anthony’s cock touching his own. Gabriel’s hips bucked up again.

  “I want you inside of me.” Anthony, breathless and urgent.

  “Yes. Now.” Finally having a naked Anthony in his arms. The newness of every sensation. The way every little move from Anthony made their pricks slide together. The way he could still feel the damp echo of Anthony’s tongue on his crown. The need drenched in Anthony’s every kiss. Hell, an orgasm was already tickling Gabriel’s ballocks. If he didn’t spill his seed in the next five minutes, he’d count himself very fortunate.

  “So nice we’re of the same mind.” Even bare and hard, Anthony took the opportunity to tease him. Anthony rotated his hips, grinding against him. And Gabriel revised his assessment. Sixty seconds. If he could last that long... “Now what did you do with the oil?”

  Oil. Yes. Anthony had given it to him. “Um...” What had he done with it? Gabriel looked about him. “Couch cushion.” He must have dropped it in his eagerness to get his trousers unbuttoned.

  Anthony snatched the glass vial from the cushion near Gabriel’s hip. He undid the stopper, poured oil into his palm then passed the vial to Gabriel. “Slick up.”

  Yes, yes. The oil needed to go on his prick, because soon, very soon, his prick would be buried in Anthony’s arse.

  The prospect of what was to come next jolted through him. He would be joined with Anthony. Would make him his own.

  He hoped Anthony didn’t notice the way his hand shook as he tipped the vial over his open palm
. How much would he need? He hadn’t the slightest idea. As he poured some oil into his palm, then added a bit more for good measure, Anthony reached behind himself. A little wince crossed his brow.

  Keeping his touch light, Gabriel passed his hand over his erection. His skin glistened, slick and ready. But...would they be able to join together as they were on the couch? Was that possible? Surely Anthony had to know. The man’s experience radiated from him.

  He did not want to think about how Anthony had gained that experience, nor how they could have gained experience together if Gabriel had not once turned his back on Anthony. He should simply be thankful Anthony knew what he was about, for it would keep Gabriel from mucking up their first time together. Because the last thing he wanted was to disappoint Anthony.

  “Ready for me?” Anthony asked, as he placed his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders.

  “Yes.” Gabriel nodded. Yes. Now, please, now.

  Lifting up onto his knees, Anthony canted his hips forward. The soft skin of his ballocks passed over the head of Gabriel’s prick in a decadent caress. And then slicked, puckered skin touched his crown.

  That was Anthony’s entrance.

  “Hold your cock steady,” Anthony murmured.

  Giving another nod, Gabriel did as bid. With his other hand, he cupped Anthony’s bare hip.

  And then Anthony lowered.

  He felt a moment of resistance, a moment of uncertainty that this could work between them, and then Anthony’s body yielded and took him inside.

  The heat, the tightness, the all-encompassing pleasure. Dear God in heaven.

  Gabriel could do nothing but let his eyes drift shut as the sensations consumed him.

  And then that luscious drag down became a pull up as Anthony picked up a slow rhythm, thrusting up and down on Gabriel’s cock.

  “Oh God, Anthony.” That impending orgasm bit into him, but he fought it back. Fought it off. Refused to allow this to end yet.

  “Hell, yes, Gabriel. You feel so damned good.”

  Reaching up with his free hand, he cupped Anthony’s neck. Brought his lover’s lips to his own and kissed him.

  The handful of times he’d attempted intimacy with a woman couldn’t come close to how it felt to be with Anthony. The weight of Anthony’s body, the heady mix of strong muscles and solid bone, his confidence, the way he responded to Gabriel...

  He knew Anthony was not the tentative sort. Anthony had always been simply himself. Comfortable enough, even at sixteen, to prod an eighteen-year-old Gabriel to take that first step into the pond to join him. Unabashed in his glorious nakedness, reveling in the joy of the moment. Showing Gabriel everything he felt.

  And right now, what Anthony felt was pleasure and lust and need, and judging by the impatience leaching into his movements and the way his kiss was turning urgent, what he wanted was more from Gabriel.

  Breaking the kiss, Gabriel took hold of Anthony’s hips with both hands. Their position limited Gabriel’s movements, but it didn’t completely restrict his ability to dictate their pace. As Anthony slid down, Gabriel bumped his own hips up, pushing deeper. Anthony let out a primitive sound, drenched in lust.

  “Yes, yes. That’s it. Fuck me deep, Gabriel.”

  As if Gabriel could consider denying Anthony his request.

  At the end of the next downstroke, he held Anthony still. Reveled in the way Anthony moaned in passion, went lax, the way Anthony absorbed and fully experienced the sensations.

  “You like that?” Gabriel demanded, needing to not only see but hear Anthony’s pleasure.

  “Damn, yes. Your cock’s so deep.” Another low moan. Impaled on Gabriel’s erection, Anthony gave a little wriggle. Impatient. Needy. “Now fuck me hard. Please,” he gasped.

  He wanted to flip Anthony on his back, pin him down, take the man. Slam hard and fast into him, until Anthony was reduced to only panting groans of pleasure.

  Instead, he made do with their present position. Fingers gripping the firm muscles of Anthony’s arse cheeks, he pushed Anthony’s up until just the head of his cock was still inside his lover, then he pulled Anthony back down. Repeated the motion. Hard and fast. Punctuating each stroke with a thrust up of his own hips.

  “Yes. Hell, yes, Gabriel. Take me. Fuck me.”

  And then Anthony’s wicked words slipped away. The sound of their bodies smacking together mixed with their groans and gasps. A wince that screamed exquisite pleasure wrinkled Anthony’s brow. He could feel Anthony’s erection brush against his coat with each thrust. And he could definitely feel the orgasm beginning to grip his own ballocks.

  He tried to hold off the climax. Tried to keep it at bay just a while longer. But the slick grip of Anthony’s body, the sight of him naked on Gabriel’s lap, bouncing up and down his cock. The lust and need in his heavily lidded gray eyes, all directed onto Gabriel...

  A hoarse sound erupted from Gabriel’s throat as the orgasm raced up his length. Blinding pleasure seared across his senses. The next thing he knew, Anthony’s lips were crushed across his own. As the last tendrils of that incredible climax began to slip away, he felt Anthony’s muscles tighten around his prick. Like the grab of a fist. Once, twice, three times. Anthony groaned into his mouth. Then Anthony dropped his forehead to rest against Gabriel’s own.

  “Bugger. Me,” Anthony murmured between panting breaths.

  “I thought I just did.”

  A low chuckle rumbled Anthony’s chest. “And very handily too.”

  Anthony’s lashes swept up. They were so close, it was difficult to focus on Anthony’s handsome face, but the sated smile curving his lips could not be missed.

  For a long moment, they remained perfectly still. Gabriel could have stayed on the couch with Anthony, this close to him, still joined with him, forever.

  Unable to resist, he brushed his lips across Anthony’s.

  And it was as if that barely there kiss had been a signal to Anthony, for the man pushed back to sit upright. He gave a little grunt, and then he swiped his right hand across his thigh, leaving a trail of pearly moisture on his skin.

  Gabriel couldn’t pull his gaze from the sight. That was most assuredly seed. All men knew what it looked like, even smeared across a thigh. The sticky sheen, the way it wasn’t exactly clear. He looked down to his own coat. While there was the faintest touch of drying moisture from where the head of Anthony’s cock had rubbed across the brown fabric, there was no sign of splattered seed. He looked to Anthony and found the evidence of the man’s climax splattered over the pale skin of his chest.

  Anthony must have taken himself in hand. Finished himself off, while Gabriel had been selfishly absorbed in his own climax.

  That thought did not sit well.

  Using his other hand on Gabriel’s shoulder for leverage, Anthony lifted off Gabriel’s lap and flopped down beside him on the couch. Anthony sighed, the sound full of satisfied contentment.

  With the loss of Anthony’s comforting weight, the uncertainty and worry began to grab hold of Gabriel again.

  Barely more than six months after her death, and he’d already given in to those base desires, already run back into Anthony’s arms.

  He couldn’t say exactly what he’d expected by coming to Anthony’s apartments. He’d surmised Anthony had wanted to be alone with him so they could share the kiss Gabriel had refused him at Hyde Park. The invitation had definitely not been a chaste one. And just the possibility of being able to kiss Anthony had thrown his head into such disarray he’d gone to Cheapside. Yet he hadn’t been able to stay away. For the first time in weeks, he’d been winning, and he had left the tables to come here.

  But he shouldn’t have taken what Anthony had offered him. Shouldn’t have had this amazing, wonderful, unforgettable night with Anthony. And it went above and beyond the fear that what they’d done togeth
er could see them both hanged. He was the last man in all of England who deserved to be here with Anthony.

  “It’s getting—”

  “Late,” Anthony said, the same instant the word came out of Gabriel’s mouth. He glanced to the clock on the fireplace mantel. “Actually, it truly is getting late.” He looked back to Gabriel, a smile touching his lips. “But you don’t need to leave now if you don’t want to.”

  “But I must.” Gabriel racked his brain for an excuse, something Anthony would accept without question. “Sarah’s paying morning calls tomorrow. Need to play the diligent escort and all.”

  Anthony held his gaze for a moment, then he shrugged. “All right.” He pushed from the couch and stood to grab his clothes from the floor.

  Since Anthony was pulling on his clothes, Gabriel took the opportunity to do the same. Taking hold of the waistband, he made to pull up his trousers and smallclothes then stopped. A sheen of oil covered his prick. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. But the instant before he swiped the fabric over his prick, he paused. He wasn’t the only one with remnants from their activities on himself.

  Gabriel held out the handkerchief. “Do you need...?”

  “No. I’ll wash up before I climb into bed, which I’m going to do soon. I find myself very relaxed at the moment.”

  Whereas Gabriel was the farthest thing from relaxed. It was all he could do not to dart to the door, to escape what he had done—what he had taken from Anthony—this night.

  He quickly cleaned himself off, repaired his trousers and smallclothes and tucked the soiled handkerchief back in his pocket. With effort, he stood instead of bolting up from the couch. “I should be going. I need to get some rest too.”

  “Indeed. Morning calls can be quite taxing to one’s patience.”

  Clad in trousers and a wrinkled white shirt, the collar open exposing his throat, Anthony smiled. He was the very picture of indulged lust. Lips still reddened from their kisses. Hair tousled. Cheeks still holding a hint of a flush. And Gabriel had done that to him.