Page 159 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
“There’s been a fortification here since 3BC,” Jonty told him. “This castle was built in 1313, and had bits added later. It was the biggest in Northumberland.”
“To keep the Scots out?”
“No, which is unusual for this part of the country. It was built for protection by a guy who’d fallen out with the English king.”
Jonty had a bit of battle with him over who’d pay to go in. Devan won, but only because he had his wallet out faster.
“Is that why you wanted me to wear these tight jeans?” Jonty asked loud enough for the woman on the desk to hear.
Devan rolled his eyes and ushered him inside.
“I don’t want you to pay for everything,” Jonty said.
“Then buy your own kippers.” Devan slung his arm over Jonty’s shoulder. “It makes me happy to spend money when I’m with you. I don’t mean to be insensitive, nor do I want to undermine your independence, but until you’re working again, you’re eating into yourthis is going to change my lifefund and you don’t need to do that.”
Jonty didn’t need the fund anymore. His life had already been changed. He felt like pinching himself every time he woke with Devan lying at his side.
“Did you make your millions in your first job?”
“I didn’t rob a bank as you so helpfully suggested to Tay’s aunt. I was well paid, but I also made some good investments. I seem to have a knack for making money grow.”
“And I can make it disappear.” Jonty laughed and took hold of Devan’s hand. “There’s a story about this place. Want to hear it?”
“Yep.”
“One dark and stormy night… a bit like today, but it was night and stormy… a knight, Sir Guy, took shelter in the castle and a wizard led him to the bedside of a princess. She was sleeping under a spell surrounded by sleeping knights, and guarded by two skeletons. One held a sword, the other a horn. The wizard told him the fate of the princess depended on the knight waking her. He had to choose the sword or horn. What would you have picked?”
“The sword.”
“You chose wisely. The knight didn’t. He picked the horn and it woke the knights. Sir Guy found himself outside the castle, and spent the rest of his life trying to find a way back in, haunted by the wordsShame on the coward who sounded a horn, when he might have unsheathed a sword.Except if he was a knight, wouldn’t he have already had a sword? I don’t quite get it.”
“Maybe it’s to make the point that when faced with adversity, you need to be strong and prepared to fight for what you want.”
Jonty pulled Devan out of sight of the only other couple who were looking round. When they were close to the wall, Jonty lay down on the grass and looked up at Devan. “Pretend I’m a sleeping princess.”
“Oh God,” Devan groaned.
“Make the right choice,” Jonty said in a creepy voice. “Remember what those bad guys chose before Harrison Ford picked that crappy looking chalice.”
“Fuck,” Devan mumbled. “Fine.”
He took a look round, and with his back to the direction anyone might come, he unzipped his jeans, knelt down and took out his cock. Jonty shut his eyes, opened his mouth and fluttered his tongue.
“Bloody hell,” Devan croaked. “Be quick.”
Jonty licked Devan’s cock, opened his eyes and grinned. “Sir Guy, what a mighty sword you wield.”
When Jonty went for another lick, Devan stuffed his cock back into his trousers and zipped up. He put out his hand, hauled Jonty to his feet and into his arms.
“Do not get any ideas about me wielding my sword against a dragon until we get back to the cottage.”
“You are no fun at all. How is the BDSM with a kipper going to work if you don’t get your cock out?”
THERE WAS LITTLE JONTY LIKEDbetter than teasing Devan. But by the time they were back in Craster and looking for somewhere to have lunch, Devan had put his foot down several times about the kippers.
“I’ll watch you eat one,” Devan said.
Jonty hated them. “I’ll go without.”
