Page 51 of His Grace, the Duke
Tom opened his eyes, feeling the strength of Burke’s hands holding him in place.
Burke’s eyes swirled with angry storms of darkest grey. “You think I didn’t like it? Is that what this show of remorse is about? You wandering behind me all morning like a kicked dog?”
Tom bit his lip, fighting back the words. They’d never spoken so openly about this subject before.Never. Apparently now was the time, and this was the place. This dingy, rank alley that smelled heavily of smoke. “You don’t like men,” he whispered.
“Of course, I don’t,” Burke huffed. “I like women. Ifuckwomen. I worship at their feet and drink from their perfect cunts. One woman in particular I now claim as my goddess. There will be no other women for me.”
Tom closed his eyes again, nodding... heart quietly breaking. Burke wanted Rosalie. Only Rosalie. Tom could well understand, for he wanted her too. He just wanted...more.
“I said look at me,” Burke growled, squeezing Tom’s jaw tighter.
Tom opened his eyes.
Burke leaned in, his thumb brushing over Tom’s partedlips. “I don’t like men. I don’t fuck men... butyouare not men.”
Tom blinked, confused and wholly distracted by Burke’s thumb on his mouth. “I don’t understand—”
“You are Tom.MyTom. You are all fucking mine.”
As the words rumbled from Burke’s chest, Tom sagged against the brick wall, his breath escaping him in a sharp exhale.
“The two of us have been linked since we were twelve years old,” Burke went on. “Do you remember the day?”
Of course, Tom remembered it. He still dreamed of it sometimes. It was the day Burke nearly drowned. They’d been fording the river one spring day. Neither was prepared for the strength of the current after a week of heavy rain. Burke was immediately swept under. It was the scariest moment of Tom’s young life—diving in after him, reaching blindly for him in the swirling darkness, dragging him to the surface and pulling him to shore. “I remember,” he murmured.
“We are part of each other. Always have been.” A silence stretched between them, and Burke’s eyes narrowed as his scowl deepened. “Goddamn it, say something.”
What words could ever suffice? Instead, Tom grabbed Burke by the neck, crashing their lips together in a hungry kiss. Burke groaned, parting his lips to tease Tom with his tongue. Tom wanted to die. To feel Burke so close, to have him in his arms, his taste on his tongue. It was perfect. It was heaven.
It was over in seconds.
Burke jerked away. He staggered back, wiping at his mouth with his leather-gloved hand. “We can’t—fucking Christ. We can’t, Tom.” He sank back against the opposite wall, eyes darting towards the busy street. No one noticed them here in the shadows. No one cared.
Tom flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, savoring the taste of Burke’s kiss. His cock was achingly hard now. He needed to know if Burke was equally affected. But instead of heat in Burke’s eyes, he saw only frustration, worry, guilt. Such a combination had shame twisting in Tom’s gut. He pushed off the wall, inching closer. “Burke, it’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again.”
Burke pounded his fist into the brick twice, cursing under his breath.
“We can be with Rosalie, and not with each other. It’s enough. I swear it’s enough for me. I won’t push you again. I’m sorry. Please... let us just be as before.”
Slowly, Burke lowered his fist from the wall and turned. His expression was impossible to read in this darkness. “I just told you that you’re mine... that you always have been... and your response is to say you want us to be as we were before?Friends?” He said the word like a curse.
“I just kissed you and you pushed me away saying ‘we can’t,’” Tom countered. “Burke, I will not lose you to this. I will swallow it. Bury it. Christ, I’llburnit out of me if I have to,” he growled, one hand pressing over his heart. “I will never risk our friendship. Icancontrol myself. I will—”
Burke cupped Tom’s face with both his gloved hands. The leather was cool, foreign. Tom ached to feel the warmth of Burke’s skin against his. He fought to keep his eyes open, too afraid to look at his friend and see more guilt and shame there.
“I am telling you that I don’t want you to be my friend,” Burke pressed. “You are more than a friend to me, Tom. You have been for a long time... I think it just took sharing you with Rosalie to fully understand the true scope of what I want.”
“And . . . what is it that you want?”
Burke laughed, lowering his hands to Tom’s shoulders. “I want to kiss you again.” He leaned in. “I want to taste you with my tongue until you’re moaning my name.”
“Burke,” Tom whispered. This couldn’t be real.
A devilish grin tipped Burke’s lips. “I want my hands in your hair... my cock in your mouth... and I want toownyou, Tom Renley. When I call a thing mine, I mean it.”
Overcome, Tom dropped his forehead to Burke’s shoulder. “I want you too,” he murmured. “God, I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Burke stiffened. “But nothing can happen between us without Rosalie’s consent,” he declared. “When I say we can’t, that is what I mean. She doesn’t know how we feel, what we want. And I will not have secrets between us.”
