Page 24 of Fox of Fox Hall

Conall slipped his hands under Fox’s ass andnudged Fox’s chin up so he could kiss the side of his neck and sucksoftly at the skin. He rumbled appreciatively against Fox’s throatwhen Fox gasped his name.

Fox had not been quiet. He opened his eyes todiscover they were behind one of the heavy curtains, shielded fromany passersby. Anyone close would certainly know people were behindthe curtain and what they were doing there, but not who they were.He went to raise his tail to be certain any distinguishing featureswere out of sight, but his tail was already snug against Conall’sback.

“Your hair in firelight,” Conall told him, mouthopen and hot at the base of Fox’s throat, “made me ache in a way Idon’t often feel, made me go a little wet.” He bit down, notbreaking skin, probably not even bruising, but Fox grabbed as muchof Conall’s short hair as he could and held him there so he’d do itagain. “Hard-soft like an eager receptive from a glimpse of yourhair and you think I wouldn’t want to taste you?”

Fox had not said that but didn’t bother toargue, his voice rising high on another gasp when he was pushedagainst the wall so Conall could take one hand away from him tountie his belt. Conall slipped his hand beneath Fox’s doublet amoment later, cupping Fox’s stiffening cock through hisunderclothes and exhaling roughly in satisfaction when he dippedhis fingers lower and found the fabric damp.

Fox tipped his head back to whine, only to endit in a pleased growl at the press of Conall’s teeth at his neck.Fox immediately shuddered and went still, surprised and aroused inequal measure. It surprised Conall too, judging from his shakyexhale as he raised his head, and how he stopped to stare at Foxeven though Fox stubbornly refused to look back. But, being Conall,he didn’t hesitate to take advantage for long. He rubbed hisfingers back and forth over Fox’s underclothes, clearly enjoyingthe sticky-wet cling and how he could tease Fox’s hole until Foxtried to push back, and then how he could make Fox go still byusing his teeth again.

“Hungry vixen,” Conall breathed over the dampskin of Fox’s neck. “What won’t I give you? Just ask. It’syours.”

Fox whined higher, louder, unbearably hot as hesoaked his underclothes and the seat of his breeches. Anyone couldwalk by them and hear Fox unraveling, perhaps even smell how wet hewas. Conall swore, furious and breathless even though he was theone to begin this game. He bit without biting, then when thatbecame too much, sucked kisses instead, all the while drawing moreand more wet from Fox.

He would mark Fox and Fox would have to hide ittomorrow. A word might have stopped him. Fox writhed against himand allowed himself to be teased. He was grateful he couldn’t seeConall’s face. He must know he was right. Fox was starving andempty, the neediest receptive at court.

“Sweet thing,” Conall praised him. He absolutelyknew what it did to Fox to hear him growl, “Eat you up. So fuckingwet for it. You’re starving, Fox, I can feel it,” with his palmpushed against Fox’s clutching hole. His palm offered heat andpressure but not enough to do anything but make Fox slicker andhotter. Fox could not stop whining.

The cloth was sodden. Fox’s gasps becamefrantic. It was like the firmer bite at his neck that would notcome, the hand or cock or tongue that was not inside him. Foxnearly cried. “Fingers, then. Conall, please. I can’t wait, Conall,please. Fuck me.” Begging by anyone’s definition.

“I will lovely. I will give you everything.Shh.” Conall dared to shush him again, and slow his kisses, andpull his hand away when what he ought to do was not ruin Fox’sunderclothes for no good reason. He spent several moments breathinghard against Fox’s throat, breath hot over wet skin, before hepulled back.

Fox was placed on his feet shortly after thatand blinked his eyes open before swaying. He might have collapsedto his knees if Conall hadn’t pinned him to the wall with all ofhis body. Fox’s legs were weak and he was so achingly empty and wetthat all he managed was to look up. Conall met his stare. Then, soclose Fox could feel how hard he was and the hint of his knot, hebrought his hand to his mouth to lick wetness from his fingers andthen clean his palm with his tongue.

Fox grabbed Conall’s shirt and yanked Conalldown to him, kissing his slick from Conall’s lips and instantlydesperate when Conall held him up to let him. Then Fox’s arms werearound Conall and he was on his toes while Conall snaked his wethand inside the front of Fox’s breeches. He wedged his thighbetween Fox’s, bringing Fox’s feet off the ground, and strokedFox’s cock with the same vicious focus on driving Fox from hissenses. Fox was left to whimper into Conall’s shoulder until hespilled.

“Sorry, lovely,” Conall whispered to Fox’stemple while Fox caught his breath. “I didn’t start that to tease.It’s those needy mewls of yours when I’m pleasing you. They make mewant to take you apart. I’m sorry,” he said again, trailing kissesto Fox’s ear. “You can have what you like of me next. My mouth as Ipromised. All that you want.”

Fox whimpered again without moving. He didn’ttrust his legs and his clothes were soiled. “I wanted you in me,”he croaked, which would be embarrassing later. “I still want it. Iwant….” He could taste himself but he wanted to taste Conall. Afterthat, he wanted Conall back inside him, and his teeth—Fox stoppedthat thought there. “I don’t think I can walk,” he admitted, whichwas embarrassingnow.

Conall inched back without stepping away,letting Fox lean on him while he retied Fox’s belt and the front ofhis breeches for him, then tugged on Fox’s clothes to straightenthem as if they wouldn’t be darkened and noticeably wet. He putFox’s bundle of sewing things into Fox’s arms at a level where itmight hide some of the damage, then he peered beyond the shelter ofthe curtain before sweeping Fox out at his side, keeping himselfbetween Fox at the view of the rest of the hall, although the hallwas still mostly empty.

In his room, he left Fox by the bed, clearlyintending for Fox to sit while he busied himself with finding andlighting a candle although the open curtains on the room’s windowmeant they had some light already. Once the candle was burning, heturned to Fox again.

He swept a look over Fox and something,confusion possibly, made him frown when he noticed that Fox had lethis sewing kit and hair pins tumble to the bed but Fox himselfremained standing.

Fox tilted his chin up to look at Conall inreturn. Conall’s beard was wet, shining faintly in the light.

“Are you angry with me?” Conall wondered, whichwas such an odd thing to say that Fox would have been taken abackif he’d had the mind to spare to think about it.

“Visibly wet from the touches of theDragonslayer is not the humiliation you imagine it is.” But theremark did make Fox look down at himself. Then, because he’dnoticed them and he could, he stepped out of his ridiculousslippers. His belt went next, also to the floor. Then hisdoublet.

Conall’s gaze did not leave him.

“Sit,” Fox told him, and nearly closed his eyeswith pleasure when Conall did, coming down on the edge of the bed.“Am I beautiful?”

“Yes.” A rough voice to make Fox asluscious as a dripping honeycomb.

“You were hard-soft from a glimpse of my hair?”Fox pressed.

Conall gave a nod.

Fox let any remaining tension fall from him withone heavy breath, then stepped closer to kneel between Conall’slegs. He angled his head to feel cool air on the wet, unbitten,well-kissed patch on one side of his throat and to let Conall seewhatever marks he’d left. Then he looked up at Conall through hislashes, hoping they shined in the candlelight the way his hair hadgleamed in firelight. From the stunned heat in Conall’s gaze, hethought they did. Fox spoke as prettily as he had ever spoken for aking, perhaps more. “Will you still try to make me beg?”

“Fox.” Conall could whine too. Butdespite that added, “Yes,” and clearly meant it.

Fox put his hands to Conall’s thighs so he couldrun his palms over taut muscle. He wet his lips. “Would you hold myhair for me?”

“Please,” Conall said as if it hurt notto.

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