Convincing Arthur (12 page)
void that could only be found at the bottom of the bottle, even if only temporarily.
The sound of a door closing smacked against his ears, pulling his arm to his side.
He held his breath and strained to hear. Someone had entered the study. The
unmistakable sensation of a pair of eyes on him made the hairs on his nape prick with
unease.
Bloody hell
. He must be a sight to behold: soaked through from the rain, kneeling
before the liquor cabinet, discarded bottles scattered about him with one clutched
tightly in his right hand. Goddamn bloody drunkard. Absolutely pathetic.
“I told the driver he wasn't needed. Should I call him back?”
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Arthur
. And he did not sound pleased. Leopold wanted to bolt to his feet, to move
away from the mess he'd created, to distance himself from it, but all he could do was
shake his head.
Arthur stepped farther into the room, the
click
of his shoes against the floorboards
coming ever nearer. Fabric shifted as Arthur dropped to his haunches beside him, so
close his greatcoat brushed Leopold's hip. Leopold instinctively ducked his chin,
averting his face, and clenched his left fist to resist the urge to wipe at his eyes. The
scents of cool rain and fresh outdoor air, of Arthur, filled his senses. His heart pounded
against his ribs.
A large, warm hand covered his, still wrapped tight around the gin.
“Let go, Thorn.”
At Arthur's soft, gentle murmur, his hand went lax, slipping out from under
Arthur's.
“Gin?” Arthur
tsked
. “No, that won't do at all.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur lean forward to set the open bottle on
top of the cabinet. “What…what do you suggest?”
“Me.”
He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “For how long?” One night, two nights
to finish their holiday, or more? He had to know. Was he only good enough to fuck, or
had Arthur seen more in him?
“For as long as you'll have me.”
So casually spoken, yet it had the power to clamp Leopold's eyes shut. He pressed
the heels of his palms to his closed eyes, struggling to keep his emotions from
completely overwhelming him.
“Thornton?” Arthur touched him, lightly and tentatively, on the shoulder.
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And it was too much. All the worry, pain, and heartache that had rubbed his
nerves beyond raw exploded into frustrated rage. Leopold twisted around and punched
Arthur square in the jaw.
“Damn you!”
As Arthur's head snapped to the left, Leopold flung himself at him, teeth bared
and fist poised to deliver another blow. Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, a
heavy weight pressing him to the floor, his arms held above head.
“What was that for?” Arthur demanded, looming over him.
With a grunt, he tried to buck Arthur off. An absolutely useless effort. “I thought
you left! How dare you do that do me?”
Arthur's gaze swept over his face. Suddenly so grave, so somber, and not at all
comforting. It killed every trace of frustration and rage, leaving him weak and gasping
to draw breath.
“I had planned to. I thought it the safest course of action, but I couldn't get in the
carriage. I couldn't leave you. I couldn't punish you—us—because of what he did to me.
He broke my heart, and it damn well hurt. But it's not broken anymore, because of
you.” Arthur released his wrists. Propping his weight on one forearm, he coasted his
other hand down Leopold's arm. With a light, reverent touch, he brushed the pad of his
thumb over Leopold's wet lashes. “I'm sorry I hurt you,” he whispered hoarsely. “Can
you forgive me?”
How could he not? He loved this man. Leopold nodded. But lest Arthur believe
his forgiveness came easily, he added, “Just don't do it again.”
“Never. I promise.”
Then Arthur cupped his jaw and took his lips in a soul-searing kiss.
Passion instantly ignited. A white-hot flare, consuming his senses. He worked a
hand between their bodies and tugged desperately on the buttons of Arthur's coat,
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77
needing to press bare skin to bare skin. To feel the heat from Arthur's body. To have the
man inside him again.
He twisted his head, breaking the kiss. “The door.” He panted. “Did you lock it?”
“Concerned about discretion, Thornton?”
“Thorn. Or Leopold, whichever you prefer. And don't be an arse. Just lock the
damn thing if you didn't already see to it.”
“All right.” A quick kiss. “But you have to get out of those wet clothes.”
Untangling himself from Leopold, Arthur moved off him and onto his knees. “I'll be
surprised if you don't catch a chill.”
Leopold sat up. “You just want me naked.”
“Yes, I do.” Arthur arched a brow, his gaze sweeping over Leopold, as if waiting
for him to get started.
He matched Arthur's raised brow and flicked his head toward the door.
“All right,” Arthur said with a chuckle. He stood. “Are you going to get up, or
would you prefer the floor?”
Leopold stared at Arthur's proffered hand. He didn't need the help, but… He
slapped his hand over Arthur's, and the man pulled him to his feet. He couldn't
suppress the grunt as his knees protested the movement. “Floor's damn hard,” he
grumbled.
“I concur with your assessment.” Arthur turned and crossed to the door.
Leopold whipped the shirt over his head, flinging it in the general direction of his
desk. It landed with a wet
slap
. He had his trousers unbuttoned and pushed down to his
hips when he remembered his boots. He glanced about the room.
Hell
. He looked to
Arthur, who strode toward him, dropping his greatcoat onto an armchair as he passed
it.
Leopold leaned back against the paneled wall, placed a hand on the top of the
liquor cabinet to steady his balance, and lifted a leg out before him. “Pull.”
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“Shall I fill in for your valet?”
“I don't have one. There isn't a bootjack in the study, so if you want me naked,
pull.”
Arthur got into position. Back to him, he straddled Leopold's leg and took hold of
the heel of his boot. One tug, and his foot slid free. The boot dropped with a
thud
.
Leopold switched legs, and the other boot came off just as easily. Then he shoved his
breeches down, kicking them free.
Grabbing Arthur's upper arm, he spun the man around to face him and slanted his
mouth over his. Leopold tugged at the placket of Arthur's trousers, releasing the
buttons, and then reached inside to pull out his hard cock.
Arthur hissed through his teeth. Strong hands covered his arse, jerked him closer.
He took a step back, taking Arthur with him, until his bare shoulder blades hit the cool
paneled wall behind him. He hiked a leg around Arthur's waist and hopped up,
wrapping his other leg around him.
“Fuck me. Please.” He tilted his hips so the head of Arthur's cock brushed his
entrance.
“I don't have any…um…with me.”
“Oil,” Leopold filled in for him. “Neither do I, but we don't need it.” He
shimmied, the fabric of Arthur's clothing rubbing against his damp skin as he shifted
his arms around Arthur's neck to get a better hold. Once he felt secure, he unwound one
arm. “Give me your hand.”
Arthur gave him a puzzled look, but he complied. The biceps of his left arm
bulged as he held Leopold with only one large hand gripping his arse. As soon as
Leopold brought the man's fingers into his mouth, the bewilderment was replaced with
lust. He sucked on Arthur's fingers, liberally wetting them.
“You know where to put them?”
“In your tight arse.”
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79
Leopold groaned at the crude words from Arthur's lips. The groan turned into a
hiss as those wet fingers pressed against his entrance. One slipped inside, followed by
another.
Panting hard though his nose, he sucked on his own fingers and then spit on his
palm for good measure. He quickly worked his hand between their bodies and grabbed
Arthur's erection. His fingers slipped over the silken skin in rhythm to the digits
thrusting into his arse. His insides fluttered, eager to feel Arthur's thick cock pound into
him.
“Fuck me. Now.”
Arthur pulled his fingers free. Leopold positioned the crown at his entrance, and
Arthur pushed inside.
His head tipped back, his mouth falling open on a sigh of utter pleasure. He
relished the burn as his muscles stretched to accommodate Arthur's erection.
“All right?” Arthur asked.
“More than all right.”
The last word turned into a moan as Arthur started stroking. His mouth found
Leopold's neck, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. A cravat would
easily cover it, but he would know it was there. A mark, a physical sign that Arthur
wanted him. Needed him. Trusted him. Could maybe someday love him.
And he would. Leopold felt it in his heart. In his soul. Felt it behind each powerful
thrust as Arthur drove them quickly to completion. Arthur's lips found his, silencing his
shout as the orgasm gripped hold. He came, every muscle in his body tightening as
Arthur poured deep within him.
Several moments later, they caught their breaths. With a grimace, he unwound his
legs from Arthur's waist. His knees threatened to buckle, but Arthur's hands on his hips
kept him on his feet.
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Arthur ducked his head to nuzzle his neck, soft lips gliding across his sweaty skin.
“We will be all right, won't we?”
At the uncertainty in those whispered words, he cupped Arthur's jaw, brought his
face up to his. “I will be the very image of a proper gentleman,” he vowed.
If Leopold hadn't loved the man already, the smile curving his lips would have
stolen his heart.
“But only an image.” Arthur tightened his grip on his arse, tugging him closer.
Leopold moaned as the silken skin of Arthur's semierect prick slid against his. “When
it's just the two of us, I want this man. I want you. And I want you often.”
“Does that mean you'll tear yourself away from your work for me?”
“For you, Thorn…to have you in my life, to have you to come home to, to have
you to grow old with…gladly. Willingly. Without a second thought.” He brushed his
lips against Leopold's in a quick, fleeting kiss. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“For what?”
“For giving me you.”
THE END
Ava March
Ava March writes Regency-set erotic romances. She has a daughter and is married
to a wonderful man who doesn’t mind in the slightest that she spends her evenings
writing naughty books.
Ava loves to hear from her readers. See what she’s been up to by visiting her on
the W
eb at http://www.AvaMarch.com
