Page 34 of Enemies with an Earl
He was a contradiction. Softness and strength.
Bentley let out a low guttural sound that hit Sam deep in his ballocks. His hand bit into the skin of Bentley’s hip, using the leverage to drive harder. Bentley hitched his leg up, giving Sam better access to that arse he’d been drooling over for a sennight, better control over pulling the man’s hips into his. Bentley’s head lolled back against the wall, eyes closed. His hands latched onto Sam’s upper arms, gripping so hard the blunt ends of the man’s fingernails scored his skin.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Bentley chanted.
Sam bit gently on Bentley’s ear. “See, I told you, you’d be calling me God.”
Their gazes locked, and all he saw in Bentley’s heavy-lidded eyes was pure fire. Molten lust. “You know,” he panted. “I was doing a really great job pretending it wasn’t you I’m doing this with until you opened your mouth again.”
Sam’s lips kicked up. “Mmmm, say more sweet things to me, my lord.”
Bentley’s lips twitched, and somehow that small sign of amusement was more exhilarating than the frigging they were doing right now. Clearly, the man needed this. Perhaps if he shagged more often, he wouldn’t be such an uptight prick.
Time to reward him for seeming more human than arrogant aristocrat. Sam slid his hand over Bentley’s arse until his fingers skimmed into his crease. He slowly trailed his fingers lower while he stroked their cocks tight and fast with his other hand. When one of his oil slicked fingers rubbed over Bentley’s hole, a feral groan flew from the man’s lips.
And Bentley went wild. One hand on Sam’s arm, the other falling to Sam’s hip, he thrust into Sam at a punishing pace. His hip hitched higher, those strong thigh muscles squeezing around Sam like the man wanted to climb Sam like a bloody tree. God, to have those thighs wrapped around him.
Heat raced through Sam, an inferno burning him from the inside out. Fucking hell, was there anything more delicious than this man completely giving over to lust? He was ravenous when he shed his starched exterior and let the animal underneath free.
Lust swallowed Sam, and he laid into Bentley, his hand on their cocks no longer moving, just acting as a sinful squeeze while they each fucked into his fist at a frantic pace. They were nothing but grunts and moans and ragged breaths. Jerky movements and searing hot skin, the smell of sweet sweat and sex surrounding them.
Then Sam’s orgasm slammed into him, nearly unbearable pressure breaking into silky pleasure. He bit down on Felix’s shoulder, muffling his hoarse cry into the man’s skin. Bentley tensed, and then the most beautiful low moan Sam’d ever heard met his ears as Bentley followed him over the edge, their warm release shooting over their stomachs.
He sank against Bentley, panting heavily, head still buried in the man’s shoulder.
And for the first time in Sam’s life, he didn’t have words.
16
Felix
Felixmeltedintothewall, completely boneless, the heat and weight of Thorne surrounding him. His heart drummed an incessant rhythm in his chest, his body still high from the peak of his orgasm, small shocks still flickering through him. That had been…incredible. Exactly what he’d needed.
Thorne pushed off him and treaded over to the dressing table. Felix bit his lip, absorbing each flex of those muscular thighs, the dimple that appeared every time the man’s arse clenched. He took in a measured breath, took stock of his body. Muscles still relaxed. Mind still blessedly incapable of coherent thoughts. Just a sleepy hum of sated bliss drifting through him. Perhaps he would be well. Perhaps this was a sign he’d moved past the panic of what had happened to him all those years ago.
Thorne walked back up to Felix, wet cloth in hand. He gently wiped it over Felix’s stomach, and a small hiss escaped Felix at the press of cool cloth to heated skin. Thorne’s gaze jumped up.
“Apologies,” he whispered. His grey eyes searched Felix’s, his face an unreadable mask.
Thorne tossed the cloth and pulled on his clothes. But Felix still couldn’t move, just stood there, leaning against the wall. His lungs squeezed, not the intense constriction he sometimes felt, but still uncomfortable. He clenched his fists and then shook them loose. He drew in a slow breath, and his eyes fell shut when he couldn’t get enough air.
The backs of his eyes stung. Fuck. He had thought… He had thought this had helped. He’d thought he’d done it. Pushed away the memories. He swallowed, but it required force, his throat thick, tight.
In. Out. In through your nose, out through your mouth.
He would not fall apart in front of this man. He refused to show weakness. He set his jaw and opened his eyes, gaze settling on Thorne, who was shrugging into his waistcoat, not bothering to button it. Thorne’s gaze found Felix’s again as he took a step backward toward the door. Felix rolled his lips in, not sure what to say. Express his gratitude? Make him promise not to tell anyone? Not that he’d be capable of words with his past trying to strangle him.
Thorne’s steps faltered. “Are you well?” And somehow the concern in the man’s voice, the softness, made it all so much worse.
The animosity made it easier to compartmentalize. Separate what they were doing from his past. But the quiet awareness that something was wrong, the hint of caring? It was too much like that liar all those years ago. William had pretended to care, too. Felix opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“Relax, Bentley. It was just a shag.” The man’s tempting lips hitched up in a half-smile. “Some really great frigging. Always more fun with a partner.” He winked.
Felix nodded, a very small weight lifting at the man’s flippancy. That’s exactly what he needed. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Really great…sufficient, whichever you want to call it.”
Thorne’s face broke out in a full grin. “Sufficient. Hmmm, sure, my lord.” He backed all the way to the door. “Let’s not pretend I haven’t just ruined you for all other men.”
“Again, you think so highly of yourself.”
