Page 45 of Once a Gentleman
“There isn’t—water. Rather, there is water. It’s not hot. There’s no hot water. I’m sorry, it’ll be rather cold.”
Oh, bloody, bloody, buggering Beelzebub.
Kit scrunched his brows and wrinkled his nose, rousing enough to prop himself up on his elbow. “Turner? Are you quite all right?”
Turner. BloodyTurner, after that, with Kit still lying nude in bed, with Andrew’s spend within him and slicking his thighs. It had never bothered him before when a lover called him that.
And now it was simply too much.
Andrew set the cup on the nightstand with unnecessary force, more water slopping over the side, and dropped the towel beside it with a splat.
“Turner? What the—”
“Andrew,” he growled, propping a knee on the bed and leaning down over Kit, setting his hands on his shoulders and pressing him down flat onto his back again. “My name isAndrew, and you’ll bloody well use it.”
And he swooped down and took Kit’s mouth, kissing him with almost savage force, pouring out his love and his anger and his helpless want in every motion of his lips and tongue. Kit made little muffled sounds of protest, pushing at Andrew’s arms as if to stop him, and Andrew only deepened the kiss, kissed him so thoroughly that he could hardly feel where he ended and Kit began, until Kit’s arms went around his neck and he tilted his head, giving in completely.
Andrew broke the kiss at last, not knowing how long he’d tasted Kit’s sweet mouth, only that it wasn’t nearly long enough, but that neither of them could breathe.
He didn’t pull back—wouldn’t have, with Kit’s arms around him, for command of a ship of the line. Kit opened his eyes, slowly, looking as dazed as Andrew felt.
“Well?” Andrew said, sounding hoarse and breathless.
Kit sighed. “Andrew,” he whispered.
“Kit,” Andrew whispered in return, “I—” And God only knew what he might have said had Kit not pulled him down into another kiss.
He covered him with his body, kissing him and whispering nonsense in between, something about Kit’s lips and his throat and his skin and his smile, until he couldn’t help himself and began to rouse again, nudging between his thighs.
Andrew expected him to protest, to tell him he couldn’t possibly take him again.
Instead, Kit moaned and spread his legs.
Pushing into him a second time felt like coming home, Kit’s stretched, slick hole taking him in without any resistance at all. Knowing that his own spend eased the way stiffened him almost to the point of pain, and he thrust harder than he’d meant to, driving too roughly and too deeply into the soft heat of Kit’s body.
Kit cried out, his head thrown back, and Andrew bent and mouthed at his throat, murmuring, “Forgive me, the way you feel, God, Kit,” but he only wrapped his legs around Andrew’s hips and urged him on.
Kit’s cock hadn’t hardened again yet, no great wonder since he’d spent twice already. But it didn’t seem to matter; he dug his fingers into the muscles of Andrew’s back, and arched into his thrusts, taking it so sweetly that Andrew felt his bollocks start to tighten far more quickly than they should have. He redoubled his efforts, taking Kit’s hips in his hands and sitting back on his heels, stabbing his cock again and again into that spot inside Kit’s body that would drive him mad.
Kit writhed, and dug in his fingers so hard that Andrew felt his nails break the skin, and cried out, a long, broken wail that shivered down Andrew’s spine. He clenched so hard around Andrew’s cock that he moaned too, still thrusting desperately, and came in shuddering bursts, feeling like he’d been turned inside-out.
He collapsed onto Kit, chests heaving against one another, sweaty and completely wrung out.
Wetness against his belly made Andrew push up on his elbows, peering down between them.
“I think I spent again,” Kit gasped, his blush deepening until he looked like a peony. “I didn’t know I could, without…”
Andrew had known a fellow could, but he hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so lost in his own overwhelming pleasure.
That he had been enough to draw that out of Kit left him…
“Don’t look so smug,” Kit said, his eyes narrowing, though the smile playing at the corners of his lips gave him away.
Andrew bent and kissed that smile, more smug than ever, but with a catch at his heart that left him breathless.
When he lifted his head, he smiled down into Kit’s sweet face. Or he tried to smile. It felt rather more like a self-satisfied grin. “I told you that you shouldn’t have any doubt you’d been fucked once I was done with you.”
Abruptly, as if Andrew had drawn a set of curtains across a sunny window, Kit’s smile fell away. “Of course,” he said faintly. “I haven’t any.” He took his arms from around Andrew’s shoulders, where they had still been draped. “We ought to rise. I have—I have yet to finish packing my trunk.”
