Speak Its Name: A Trilogy (24 page)

“Oh... God...” I said. The enormity of what I was doing threatened to make me stand and run, but his eyes flashed open; urgent, imperious. His hand caught mine and pulled it down to grasp his cock, which I did automatically, then willingly, so very willingly. The heat of it startled me, more slender than mine, but as long and so beautiful. I lost any self-will at the moment. I was his and he was mine to do with what I would. Gently I stroked him in the way I did myself, light on the downstroke, firmer on the upstroke, my thumb brushing over the engorged vein and teasing the rim when I passed it. His eyes fluttered and he pushed his hips up to meet every stroke. The noises coming from his mouth was muffled but so sensuous I thought I would spend myself just listening to him.

“Harder,” he ordered, “harder.” I obeyed him, watching first his face as it twisted in pleasure and then his body as he writhed as I changed strength and rhythm, lost in the joy of making someone that aroused. My own cock had hardened from the first moment I had grabbed him and it pushed against my breeches, demanding attention. Clumsily, with my left hand, I undid the buttons and released it, taking hold and matching both strokes together. His eyes opened and he watched me, with eyes greedy for every movement.

“Beautiful,” he said, gasping. “I wanted this—right from the first moment.” I wondered at his capacity for speech and longed to kiss him silent, but to move at that moment would have been impossible.

I felt the familiar pleasure heating, then a rush of heaven as my seed rose in a surge. I tried to fight to co-ordinate my work but I need not have worried, for as I spent, each spurt heavenly agony, Adam sat up sharply, and his seed gushed out over my fist. His cry of “Oh, God!” was muffled only by his fist pushed against his mouth.

Swiftly, as if we had been lovers for years instead of moments, he pulled himself forward, damp and naked and slid into my arms. The kiss was everything I remembered and nothing I expected, sensual and with so much feeling behind it, a heartfelt gift that I could almost hear him saying that he loved me, and I tried to kiss him back the same.

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In which I accept my life changing with an unaccustomed joy.

I sat up, dazed, with the terrible realisation of how much my life had just changed. He was smiling, just a little. He lay there, looking so delightfully debauched, his lips swollen from my mouth’s assaults, his eyes huge and so dark as to be almost black, that my heart twisted with emotion for him. He reached down and took my hand, still resting on his thighs, caught it in his hand and brought it up to his mouth. With slow, deliberate movements of his tongue, he licked my fingers clean, then turned my hand over and kissed my palm, his eyes closing as he did. It was such a simple and heartfelt declaration of love without words that I was unable to do anything but swallow hard.

Our situation and the danger of it came to us both as the madness receded. We had already been too long closeted together; we could not afford much more time. But our preparations to appear to the others of the house and his gradual re-dressing were delayed again and again by tenderness and kisses as he came to me, again and again.

“One more,” he said, pushing himself against the door and myself. “For I’ll have to live on this moment for who knows how long.” I too, saw the future stretching away from me with nothing more than circumspect glances, unendurable social contact and nights spent lonely, hard and longing.

How my life had reversed in so short a time. From being determined to grant him no quarter, to stand against him in every endeavour, now I was his to command. Just a pressure behind my neck brought my lips down to his; the smallest of his touches had tamed me, just as I fooled myself that I had mastered his recalcitrant nature. I brushed the back of his hair with my fingers, curling it where it had been flattened, and I wanted to say how my heart felt but he had confounded me—as ever.

I tried, knowing that something was needed of me. We could not open that door and resume our lives without some declaration of our intent. And yet, I thought—rational in spite of the glow of new found love—what intents could there be? This madness could never happen again, not in his aunt’s house, and would, inevitably sink to degradation, hidden away in the class of houses that such... tastes were enjoyed, becoming as vile as it was rumoured.

I was not sure we had escaped scandal as it was, but to repeat the experience (although every inch of my body wanted to repeat and repeat and repeat) would be insanity of immense proportions.

“Heyward...”

His eyes hooded in a sensuous manner and he leaned against me, his hands almost kneading my chest, like a cat does. “I think, my dear Geoffrey, that now perhaps we might be a little more intimate than that? At least in private.”

He brought my hand to his lips again, stirring my blood and my loins as he sucked my naked thumb into his mouth. I groaned in frustration, and gently took my hand from his.

“We cannot now go back to the haven of that couch,” I said as firmly as I could, my insides melting as he raised an eyebrow. “Although, Heywa... Adam. Know this—I—you spin my head around with words I cannot say. I would take you back there and keep you there a lifetime, if it were at all possible so to do.”

He touched my chin with his finger, trailing it up and over my mouth. “La, is that a declaration, Major?”

“God damn you,” I hissed at him. “You’ll unman me yet more, will you? I
will
say it then. I love you, want you. How that is—what that even
means
—I don’t know. But if love means want and need and an almost overwhelming desire to keep you here in my arms forever, than that’s what it is. You dared me to do it, and I have, but know this,” I said, pulling him tight to me again, so tight that I revelled in the gasp he made as I crushed him against me. “Know this.” I covered his mouth with mine, and kissed him briefly but harder than I ever had. My member, fresh with interest, pressed eagerly against his hip. “You woke me, Adam Heyward. You must deal with the consequences of that.”

For a second he looked unsure of himself as if he had, indeed, woken something in me he was not expecting, but it was veiled in a heartbeat and the teasing and spoiled child was back in his eyes, dancing with mischief. “Just so,” was all he’d say and I got no more from him. He pulled the door open, and as if nothing had happened between us, he began to talk of some country house or other of the family’s and what the shooting was like. I hardly listened, but followed him back to the others.

We joined the ladies in the morning room and I was invited to stay with them for breakfast. It was clear by the significant looks between mother and daughter and cousin and cousin that all was arranged—it just needed my word to make it final, but my stomach churned, for after my acceptance of my true nature, I was more uncertain now than I ever had been. I glanced at Adam from time to time, sure that I must have the brands of his kisses on my cheek, on my forehead. Surely the marks of my hands must show on his skin? But he looked no different, acted no different; playing the wit and the fool, making his aunt smile indulgently and his cousin colour the next. Nothing, it seemed, had turned his world upside down and no one would guess how he’d been clinging to me only minutes before. I only hoped I was half the dissembler he was.

After breakfast I engaged with the Pelhams for the next afternoon and arranged to drive them out, weather permitting, and then I walked back around to our lodgings, my mind in a whirl. I had no doubt that Adam—how easily his name had changed in my mind—would accompany the ladies, even though I had not, and deliberately not, included him in the invitation. How would we be together? What would we do? What could we do? I had a thousand answers and none. I was more in a dilemma that I had been, for as much as I could have taken my reluctance to marry at
all
to Charles or Edward, I could hardly take this to them. At the worst they would be scandalised, at the very best they would treat it as some kind of peccadillo. I could just hear Charles, and see Edward’s slightly patronising grin.
‘It’s something most of us try at school, Geoff. But then of course you missed out on boarding school... But one grows out of it.’

So that was out of the question; I could expect no help there.

Perhaps then, I thought, that’s all it was? Something that a man needed to get out of his system? A rite of passage, if you like. If many men tried it, many men also left it behind them. If I had given in to the many urges I’d felt and had hardly understood in the army, perhaps I would not be in my current predicament. There had been many a man who had stirred my blood and my imagination, but I kept it under control, even though I knew that some others did not.

Then there had been Captain Sidell. Ice-cool and aloof from everyone. I had wondered about him. He was well respected, but never let himself get friendly with very many. Once he had surprised me by asking me to join him for a drink in his tent and I had said no automatically for no other reason than I had been planning a devilishly tricky skirmish the next day. Now I wonder if that had been an invitation to more than it seemed. I’d never know that now. He had been killed at Toulouse.

Well
, I thought as I stopped outside my father’s lodgings and looked up
. If there was only one way to exorcise these feelings, and that way was to... exercise them, then so be it
. My prick was stirring in my breeches at the thought of Adam, his warmth, his mouth, his scent. The house seemed to frown down at me, as if it knew what I was planning. I gave it a cheery salute and went to face my father’s inquisition.

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In which a journey takes a dangerous path and performance means more than effort.

The weather the next day was overcast and cool, but dry enough to consider a drive to Prior Park, so I sent a boy to hire a barouche for our excursion. To my very great annoyance, my father insisted on accompanying me, even though I complained that, should young Heyward come—which I hoped very fervently he would, I had great hopes of him pressed next to me on the seat—it would be rather cramped, and to take two carriages would be difficult to arrange for I could hardly yet drive alone with Miss Pelham even if I had wanted to. I pointed out the extravagance of such an adventure, but he was adamant that one equipage would do, and no more and “Young Heyward can dashed stay behind if he don’t like bein’ squashed.”

I said that perhaps it was the ladies who would not like to be so incommoded but I may as well not have spoken at all. I positively glowered all the way around to our destination but when the ladies came out, my father, contrary as ever, waylaid Lady Pelham at the door and suggested she accompany him for an afternoon at Lord D—’s.

“The young people can enjoy themselves the more without us,” he said, almost winking at me, “and your nephy’s shoulders might not fit a uniform, but the office of chaperone suits him well enough, what?”

The insult made us all colour and I went hot and angry in Adam’s defence. What had my father expected him to do, limp across the Peninsula with a rifle in his hand? I turned away, opened the door of the barouche and helped Miss Pelham into the carriage, facing forward, which earned me the sweetest smile she had yet bestowed upon me. It was with relief that I was able to order our departure, and it was with some delight that I found that Adam was where I hoped he would be, his leg pressed up against my leg and jolting delightfully against me with every wonderful bump in the road. I hoped there were many hundreds of such imperfections between now and our destination. Such tender friction soon removed every thought of my father.

We were cosy enough then—but less than two streets away from our departure point, Miss Pelham gave a cry. “Oh, please stop. Please?” and I urged the coachman to do as she asked.

“Are you well?” I asked her. “Should I ask him to turn around?”

“No. It’s an acquaintance of mine, Miss Clynes. I have not seen her for some time.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “That might be because you are forbidden to see her, of course.”

Miss Pelham surprised me by rounding on Adam. “And you are forbidden to see that Thouless... creature... but I know you do! So if you say a word...”

“My dear girl, I wouldn’t dare cross you.”

“Rightly so.” She turned her attention to me. “Forgive me, Major, but I must speak with her.” She fixed her attention to the pavement and after a few moments, a young lady with light brown hair, accompanied by a female companion approached the carriage. Miss Pelham sat at the edge and held out her hand for her friend to take, which she did gratefully and they exchanged fond words whilst I sat there and tried not to be jealous at the casual mention that Adam was apparently well acquainted with Thouless. In the few moments it took for Miss Pelham to remember us, I cannot say that I did particularly well.

“Major Chaloner, I am happy to present Mrs. Clynes and Miss Clynes. Isobel was my dearest friend at school. Isobel, my dear Mrs. Clynes—this is Major Chaloner of the —th, and of course you both know the dreadful Adam Heyward.”

Curtsies were given and hats were doffed. I stepped out of the carriage and offered them a ride to their destination, but Mrs. Clynes declined, saying, “We are at the end of this row here, but thank you.”

“Then, perhaps you would consider accompanying us?” I said, wondering where my gallantry was coming from and trying to ignore the quirked and amused eyebrow under Adam’s hat.

“It is most kind of you, Major,” Mrs. Clynes said, “but I have much to arrange. We leave Bath in a few days. But Isobel? You would enjoy it, I’m sure?”

“No, mamma, I would not hear of going whilst you remained behind.”

Miss Pelham grasped Miss Clynes’ hand. “Please do, Isobel.”

It took but a second for Miss Clynes to be persuaded, and she stepped into the carriage with a small smile. The driver ensured their comfort and we set off again, with Miss Clynes’ arm entangled with Miss Pelham’s and I am sure that I do us no injustice when I say that we made quite a fashionable quartet as the barouche clattered down the street toward the country. As the young ladies renewed their acquaintance and forgot us temporarily in catching up with their news, Adam leaned towards me a little and gave the merest pressure with his left thigh.