Page 44 of Enemies with an Earl
A soft curse flew from Thorne, and he shifted on his knees.
“Get them nice and wet,” came another husky command.
Felix swirled his tongue over them dutifully. Then Thorne pushed down, and Felix gagged. An appreciative hum rumbled from Thorne before his slick fingers slid from Felix’s mouth. And bloody hell, Felix chased after those fingers, his body craving being filled, his mouth stretched.
But he didn’t have long to be upset because Thorne’s lips surrounded Felix’s length, and he was sinking down in a long, wet glide. His wet fingers found their way behind Felix’s ballocks, sliding over the sensitive area just behind them. Heat scorched up Felix’s spine, and a strangled moan tore from him.
The chamber filled with Felix’s groans and gasps and the sinful wet sounds of Thorne’s sucking—the symphony of Felix’s deepest fantasies. But it was so much better. Thorne ruined Felix with short fast sucks that had desire coiling dangerously inside him, ballocks drawing up. Felix’s impending orgasm barreled forward, right in front of him, along with fear. Fear that this man was going to back off just before it hit.
But Thorne didn’t back off. His fingers slid back and massaged over Felix’s hole. Felix’s skin went up in flames. And Felix, being the desperate, needy man he currently was, pushed back on Thorne’s fingers. He needed the burn, the promise of pleasure that would follow.
Thorne sank to the root, smooth wet muscles contracting around Felix’s cock. His groan vibrated around Felix’s length, his finger prodding harder, and Felix let out a breath and relaxed, bore down so that finger could slip past the tight ring of muscles. And what a fucking reward. Thorne’s finger slid deeper, passed over that blessed spot, and pleasure jolted through Felix like a lightning strike.
The man petted over that spot. Felix’s breath hitched. Pressed harder. Press. Release. Press. Release. A strangled sound ripped from Felix. Relentless.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Ohmyfuck.”Felix’s hands shot to Thorne’s head, delving through soft ebony strands. He held on for dear life as bliss swallowed him whole. His hips writhed against Thorne’s hold, desperate to buck and thrust. Ecstasy crashed into him, over him, around him. His muscles drew impossibly tight, his body vibrating as desire finally,finallyconsumed him, pumping through him, from him.
His chest heaved, and his hands shook where they still held Thorne clenched to him, even as his limbs began softening as his orgasm receded. He instantly let go, hands falling back to the coverlet as he sank heavily against the bed.
Thorne wiped the back of his wrist over his mouth. His eyes were darker against his flushed cheeks. Stark. A glimmering moonstone. Or maybe it was from the tears that had leaked from the corners of his eyes from his efforts. Without thinking, Felix leaned forward and wiped them away, fingers lingering.
Thorne cocked his head. Studying Felix. Even in the lethargic aftermath of pleasure, apprehension prickled over Felix’s skin. He couldn’t read the man’s expression. Thorne slowly pushed to his feet, Felix’s hand falling away. He adjusted himself with one hand, bringing Felix’s attention to where the man was very clearly in need of his own relief.
But before Felix could reach for him, could return the favor, Thorne leaned forward. His lips brushed over the shell of Felix’s ear. “Now you’re no better than the Duke.”
Then he spun on his heel and strode from the room.
And once again the man left Felix with one question ringing through his mind:What the fuck just happened?
23
Sam
Samwalkeddownthehall toward the library, tapping the note he carried against his palm. Despite the whirlwind of events that had taken place over the last week involving a certain runaway woman—and then everything that had transpired yesterday—Sam’s chest was fit to bursting. Because in a few short moments, his best friend was going to finally get the love he so very much deserved.
Everything in the tower was ready. Sam had ensured it was so. Now his friend was up there waiting—unnecessarily overcome by nerves. Unnecessarily because Lady Felicity was going to accept his hand in marriage, no doubt about it. Those two—Sam’s lonely heart squeezed—what they had was true and pure. A love that would withstand. Sam could see it in the way Lady Felicity refused to be deterred by the barriers Ash put up. Sam’s best mate was as stubborn as they came with holding on to his grief and guilt. It didn’t matter how many times Sam had tried to reason with Ash, he’d been determined to be some sort of martyr, wasting away in this castle, denying himself a partner in life.
God, Ash deserved this so much. That love wasn’t destined for Sam, but at least his best mate could find it. After everything that man had been through. Everything he’d lost. The backs of Sam’s eyes burned, and he blinked furiously. At least there were small justices in this world.
Sam stepped into the library and halted, eyebrows shooting skyward, all bittersweet joy for his friend stolen by the scene before him. He bit his lip against a threatening smile. Bentley and Lady Pandora, Ash’s sixteen-year-old daughter, were currently in the middle of a ferocious faux fencing match.
He leaned casually against the door.Well, I’d never. The ever perfectly proper and put-together Lord Bentley was stripped to his shirtsleeves, sleeves rolled to the elbow, cheeks pink with exertion as he parried back and forth. And by the blinding smile and bursts of laughter falling from him, he was having a grand ole time. The man knew how to have fun? Never say it.
The man shouted instructions to the blonde slip of a young woman as they scuttled back and forth, though Pandora’s exuberance more than skill seemed to be giving her an advantage. Bentley was having a hell of a time following where her jabs were going to come from next, considering she swung her broom handle like she didn’t know where she was aiming.
Sam was finding it extremely difficult to dig up the anger he’d been clinging to. He knew Ash didn’t hold anything against Bentley, something he’d droned on about this morning while Sam helped him dress. Ash might be forgiving, but Ash was Sam’s sole person. And Bentley hadattackedhim. Threatened the one person Sam loved. He wasn’t supposed to let that go. Was he?
But the god-damned man had this overwhelming pull on Sam. It was the contradiction. The man was all sharp barbed edges on the outside. But underneath…
Pandora and Bentley jousted sharply, grunts and growls coming from each of them. Battle to the death, it appeared. And then Pandora landed a shot straight to Bentley’s chest.
He fell, arms flailing extravagantly, and collapsed to the floor. “You’ve killed me!” He reached for Pandora, like he was grasping for life. Then his hand flopped to the floor, and he went limp. Pandora toed the boneless heap with her slipper. He didn’t budge, and she broke out into a fit of giggles.
Sam choked back a laugh. Underneath wasthis. Who was this man? Was Sam really witnessing what he thought he was witnessing? Because this didn’t align at all with the man he knew. Something squirmed uncomfortably in his gut. Thought he knew. This was a man who would kill to protect, to avenge his family.
Whereas Sam…had a family who would rather kill him.
His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and he worried it. He supposed he couldn’t hate a man like that.
