Page 81 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
Mr. Moreau observed him fondly. “I still do not understand why sugar and coffee can put that man to sleep in the small hours of the morning.”
Mr. Reevesworth stood, flexing his shoulders. “Damian is built from contradictions.” He pried Damian from the table and got an arm under his shoulder. “Collin, I’ll see you in my room when you’re finished.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Moreau made no motion to move but was calmly enjoying a small tumbler of brandy with his pastry. Collin drank his own tea and savored the flavor of the barely sweet custard with the lightness of the puff. He cleaned up around Mr. Moreau who seemed lost in his own thoughts and then found his way down the hallway to the bedroom.
Mr. Reevesworth was not yet there. Collin dropped down on the small bed, limbs heavy. He needed the toilet before sleeping, but neither Mr. Reevesworth or Mr. Moreau were there. He could wait a while. He closed his eyes for a moment.
Footsteps on carpet made him stir. He rolled over and looked up. Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau were entering together, kissing. Collin smiled, his knees drawing up to his chest. Mr. Reevesworth pushed Mr. Moreau up against the wall, knee between the other man’s thighs. A thrill ran through Collin’s stomach. Both men were obviously aroused. Mr. Moreau’s hands pushed Mr. Reevesworth’s pants down his buttocks. Mr. Reevesworth stepped back only far enough to step out of the pants as they fell down his legs.
“You know you’ll pay for that, Émeric?”
“So certain. Didn’t your puppy wear you out?”
Mr. Reevesworth growled. He bent his knees and wrapped one arm beneath Mr. Moreau’s rear, lifting the man from the floor. He turned and threw his husband on the bed. “I’ll have you know, Émeric, no puppy has found my limit. Only you. And I haven’t had you tonight.”
Mr. Moreau bounced on the bed, eyes fixed on his husband’s face. He seemed unable to move, but his eyes were bright and wide, like his smile.
Mr. Reevesworth grabbed Mr. Moreau’s ankle and dragged the silk off his husband’s leg. The darker man wore nothing beneath the flimsy layer. Collin pressed his hand against his own groin. Mr. Moreau was as smooth as he was with a Prince Albert ring shining at the end of his dick.
Mr. Reevesworth slunk up the bed, caging Mr. Moreau beneath him. “Collin.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stay where you are, unless you need to leave.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Moreau laughed. “You know I won’t go easy on you, Richard, just because the kitten is here.”
Mr. Reevesworth leaned down, catching his husband in a violent kiss. Mr. Moreau reached up, grasping him around the neck and shoulder with both arms. They rolled on the bed, long legs tangled together. Pillows flew from the mattress. Mr. Reevesworth’s hands gripped his husband’s ass in a two-handed grip. Mr. Moreau held him fast, an elbow locked behind his neck.
Collin shivered. He gripped a pillow against his chest and curled up around it, unable to tear his eyes away.
Mr. Reevesworth dragged his teeth down Mr. Moreau’s neck. Mr. Moreau’s back arched and he moaned. Mr. Reevesworth’s mouth reached the arch of his husband’s shoulder. He mouthed it once, licking sweat from satin skin, and bit.
Mr. Moreau screamed. His thighs bulged as he bucked, trying to throw Mr. Reevesworth off. His hands clawed down Mr. Reevesworth’s back, breaking skin.
“Richard!”
Mr. Reevesworth laughed. He licked at the deep dark mark he had left behind on his husband’s neck. Mr. Moreau shuddered and lay limp on the bed. For half a breath, Collin thought that would be all.
Mr. Moreau’s hand flew off the mattress, catching Mr. Reevesworth by the hair on the back of his head. Hands and arms traded places, and the two men rolled straight off the bed and onto the floor. Mr. Moreau landed on top, legs locked around Mr. Reevesworth’s upper thigh and an arm around Mr. Reevesworth’s shoulder.
Mr. Reevesworth lurched from the floor, his husband riding him and losing his grip. Mr. Reevesworth spun and bent in a horseshoe shape. He grabbed Mr. Moreau’s knee from between his own legs, and dragged the other man under him. Mr. Moreau twisted, punching Mr. Reevesworth in the hip with an elbow and finding his feet. Mr. Reevesworth grabbed him around the lower legs. Somehow, they had left the space of the larger bed entirely and were up against the smaller bed.
Collin rolled to the very end of his mattress as Mr. Moreau fell onto it.
“Collin, move.”
Moving. Yep. Moving right now. Collin scrambled over the end of the bed frame and beat a hasty retreat across the room to the couch. He dropped down into the cushions and pulled his legs up to his chest. Mr. Moreau and Mr. Reevesworth were demolishing the smaller bed, Mr. Reevesworth now beneath Mr. Moreau, the Frenchman’s hand full of his husband’s hard dick. They were still kissing even as Mr. Reevesworth twisted and fought to gain the upper hand once again.
He managed to sit up against the wall. Mr. Moreau followed him. The force of their straining bodies slid the bed away from the wall. Mr. Moreau put a foot down between the sliding bed and the wall.
They’re going to destroy the room.
Collin ran his eye over the room. Was there anything breakable? Should I move anything?
