Page 51 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
“It’s those blasted pearls.” Kit flung his stockings across the room, then groaned, clutching his sore ribs like a loon. Hip, head, and ribs be damned too. “They have addled my brain. You will be the death of me, Lord Henry Orlando Fitzwilliam Albert Duchamps-Avery.” With a sudden move, Kit pounced on his squealing lover. “But, by heavens, it will be a most marvellous way to go.”
Wrestling Lando higher onto the pillows, Kit took charge. Both of his man and the damned jasmine oil. As Kit’s slippery finger sought entry between his parted thighs, Lando’s eyes widened. Already slack, he arched up into Kit’s touch. As he whimpered, Kit smiled.
“You like that, don’t you? Pleasure yourself on me.”
Lando shuddered, and one finger became two. His head fell back, and Kit sucked and nipped at his neck. He buried his tongue in the hollow behind his ear, shared his hotly gasped air. Kit was thoroughly spoiled, too, for any other man.
“Now,” Lando panted, “Now, Kit. Please?”
How Kit loved that little desperate please. Kneeling up, he helped himself to some more oil and took himself in hand, coating himself from root to tip in a showy, generous manner.
Then he lined himself up.
Nothing compared to that first thrust. Unhesitating and unapologetic. In that moment, he swore Lando’s soul was tangled with his. Buried to the hilt, he held still, mesmerised by his lover’s parted lips, his silent cry of pleasure. Pulling almost all the way out, Kit poured himself into him again, his hips slapping against the back of Lando’s thighs. Lando slid down the pillows, and he grabbed onto Kit’s shoulders, his nails digging into the firm flesh.
“Hold on tight,” Kit gasped. He had one hand around his lover’s neck, the blessed pearls caught up in his palm, the other wrapped around the bedframe. As his lover opened up, he pounded into him, harder, faster, deeper until Lando was laudanum running through Kit’s veins, and Kit, a hungry, greedy addict. Between them, Lando’s shaft lay hot and heavy; with every stroke, Kit rubbed against it between them. Lando trembled, his channel tightening around Kit’s prick.
“I am close to spending,” he breathed, his mouth merging with Kit’s.
Kit squeezed a hand between them, closing it around Lando’s leaking member.
“Then spend for me, my love. And I shall do the same.”
*
“I MUST ADDbedsport to your list of talents, Kit,” observed Lando lightly. Still damp from his bath and now from his exertions, his blond locks curled sweetly across his forehead. “My mattress may never recover. And your…your tongue—” His cheeks flushed a delicate hue. “—is singularly gifted.”
“I have never done that…there until now,” Kit confessed. “In fact, I have never lain in a bed with another man until you, though I have partaken of my share of men. But not lain with them. Not like this.”
Those faceless mollies and Lando didn’t warrant the same sentence. Pillowing his head in his arms, Kit sleepily gazed up to the complexly patterned ceiling and the swashbuckling adventures played out upon it. He frowned. On closer inspection, some of those innocent hunting scenes weren’t what they had first seemed. That swarthy knight, for instance. Kit blinked, then blinked again to be quite sure. The one without the helmet and the exaggerated codpiece. He wasn’t…with that…that other knight. Was he? And was…was that his memb…? Ye gods.
“Quite.” Lando gave a little cough. “You were saying, darling.”
Flushing, Kit turned his regard to the safer, plainer silk hangings draping the bed, adorned with lilies, though rapidly averted it to the carved wooden scrolls at the foot because those water nymphs were…good Lord. Closing his eyes was simpler.
“I was saying I’ve never tupped in a bed.”
“And is it to your liking?” Lando’s nimble fingers curled around the trail of thick dark hair tracking down the centre of Kit’s belly.
“I’d say so. Mostly, I’ve done it stood up against alley walls or bent a man over in a dark corner. An occasional swift tumble on a well-used sheet in the back room of the coffee house down on Field Lane when funds have allowed. But never like this, never on a soft mattress made up with linen sheets.”And never with one as fine as you.
He turned to where Lando lay on his side, drowsily watching him from under the lids of those silvery eyes. Like a lazy lion waiting to pounce. “And…and I’ve never taken the role you…you have just taken,” he admitted. “But I wonder, with you, whether it would give me pleasure.”
“Then I should find it most pleasurable too.”
Closing the gap between them, Lando rested his head on Kit’s chest. His ribs didn’t mind one bit.
“This is new to me also,” Kit remarked. “Lying here afterward and speaking my heart.” He huffed a laugh. “Tupping you makes me garrulous.”
“In some ways, this can be the best part.” As Lando’s cool fingers trailed up and down Kit’s side, Kit didn’t think he was wrong.
The fingers tapped on his chest. “Though no conversation or music is so pleasant to my ear as your strong heartbeat.” Lando turned to press his lips against the skin overlying it. “Every second and every minute you lay unconscious spoke only of my empty future.”
With a shake of his head, Lando tutted, his breath fluttering against Kit’s thick pelt. “How selfish I sound. You, so unwell, and me, only thinking of myself.”
Kit squeezed Lando’s fingers, bringing their hands, now knitted together, to his mouth to kiss them. “If I had been capable of conscious thought, then I daresay I would have been thinking of you too.” He grinned down at the blond head. “You consume far too many of my thoughts these days, my lord.”
“Then may these days stretch forever.”
