Page 48 of The Lawrence Browne Affair
Lawrence tugged off Georgie’s shoes and trousers and then his own. Georgie clutched the jewels even tighter, until he felt gold filigree biting into his fingertips.
He watched Lawrence scan the room, his eyes finally alighting on something near the washstand. Georgie propped himself up on his elbows in time to see a tin box being placed on his bare chest. This was the tin the shaving soap had come in, the soap Georgie had bought in Falmouth with the notion that Lawrence would like it. The tin still bore the scent of sandalwood and cloves, which was how Lawrence’s skin smelled tonight, masculine and expensive, rich and powerful—but still somehow Lawrence. It was into this box that Georgie placed the jewels that would buy him his freedom, his independence, but rob him of the only purpose he had ever had. They slid out of Georgie’s hand and into the box, stone and metal colliding jarringly in the otherwise silent room. Lawrence placed the box on the bedside table where Georgie could see it.
And then Lawrence kissed Georgie hard, almost hard enough to be too much. Georgie ran his hands over Lawrence’s arms, relishing the flex of his muscles as he braced himself over Georgie, loving every ounce of weight on top of him. Lawrence shoved Georgie’s legs apart with a forcefulness that would have seemed dangerous if it hadn’t been precisely what Georgie had asked for, if his eyes weren’t carefully trying to read Georgie’s face for signs of distress.
“Yes,” Georgie breathed, to clear up any confusion in the matter. “Like that.”
“You still want to be fucked?” Lawrence’s voice was raspy and rude, and it went straight to Georgie’s cock.
“Oh God, please.” He had been thinking about it for weeks, with obscene frequency. Since arriving at Penkellis, every time he had let his thoughts wander, he imagined Lawrence inside him, on top of him, strong and sure andhis.He dreamed of being fucked hard enough to not worry about the future or the past or anything else. He knew it wasn’t possible, but he shut his eyes and pretended this moment, these touches and kisses and whispered words, were all that mattered.
“Am I sufficiently unlordly?”
Georgie made a sound that he had meant to be a laugh, but came out more like a sob. “Never.” The man was a peer of the realm, a man of wealth and consequence, and Georgie had been a rank fool not to have properly considered him in that light. What a lackwit Georgie was to only see it after having spent a tidy sum on finery and fripperies.
But now, thanks to the contents of the soap tin, Georgie’s predatory instincts were gone, and without them he felt like a compass without a needle. There was only desire, and something more. Something worse.
“I love you,” he said, because now—naked, aroused, and with thousands of pounds worth of rubies on the table beside them—felt like as good a time as any to let the man know, if he hadn’t figured it out already. He couldn’t think of a single reason not to say it, which only went to show how addled his faculties were at the moment.
“And I love you,” Lawrence said. He made it sound more like an action than a sentiment.
He caged Georgie in with his arms, he kissed his neck, he pressed Georgie into the mattress, as if all of those things were somehow acts of love. Georgie wriggled out of Lawrence’s grasp, momentarily dispensing with the fiction that he was powerless beneath the larger man. He knelt over Lawrence’s lap, straddling him. Then he took Lawrence’s hand and guided it around to the cleft of his arse. He felt the rough pads of Lawrence’s fingers skimming over his entrance.
“Like so?” Lawrence murmured.
“Yes.” Georgie buried his face in Lawrence’s neck, kissing and sucking that sensitive flesh as he tried to push back against Lawrence’s hand. He heard Lawrence grunt in appreciation, felt Lawrence’s hard prick touch his own.
Lawrence shoved him backwards onto the mattress with that combination of unchecked strength and watchful concern that had done away with all Georgie’s defenses. The man knew what Georgie wanted and wasn’t going to hold back, but he also wouldn’t let Georgie be hurt. Georgie rolled onto his stomach, tilting his hips up as Lawrence crawled over him. “Yes,” he repeated, his head buried in his folded arms. “There’s oil in the bedside table.” Yesterday, when he folded Lawrence’s clothes and arranged them in the clothes press, he had also hidden away a bottle of oil he had swiped from the pantry. There were advantages to being the sort of conniving soul who thought three steps ahead, the kind of man who thought hiding an object was the same as stealing, only in reverse. He heard Lawrence remove the stopper, and just that sound was enough to send a thrill of anticipation coursing through him.
A moment passed, the only sound being Lawrence sliding his hand over his oiled prick. Georgie’s own cock ached with need, his body cried out for more, now. Lawrence’s hand rested on the small of his back before moving lower. Georgie felt the tip of a finger enter him and moaned at that first strange intrusion. And then nothing. Lawrence was still, barely breaching Georgie’s entrance. Georgie pushed back, felt Lawrence shudder.
“I want to see you.” Lawrence leaned low over Georgie, pulling his arms away from his face. “I need to see your face.”
Georgie turned his head, resting his cheek on the smooth bed linen. Over his shoulder, he saw his lover’s face, so unexpectedly young and sweet without the beard. He flicked a reassuring smile. “I need you inside me.”
Lawrence added another finger, readying Georgie with painstaking care. Unable to take any more, Georgie reached back and wrapped his hand around Lawrence’s shaft, guiding it to his entrance. “Please. I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”
Lawrence’s hands looked unsteady as he reached for more oil. Georgie gave a little moan of anticipation, willed himself not to push himself entirely onto the cock that was only barely touching him. Finally, Lawrence locked his hands on Georgie’s hips and thrust all the way in with one steady, inexorable push.
Georgie made a mindless sound of pleasure mingled with intensely realized fullness. He felt like the head of Lawrence’s cock was impossibly deep, further into him than made any sense at all. Lawrence, hands digging almost painfully into Georgie’s hips, pulled back and then thrust back in.
“Fuck!” Georgie cried, his body on fire with sensation.
“Is that all right?”
It most definitely was. “God yes.”
And he did it again, and again, settling into a rhythm. Georgie desperately arched back, sliding his hand underneath his body to take hold of his own needy prick. Georgie didn’t know what he was saying, whether it was words or just nonsense syllables, but knew Lawrence wouldn’t hold it against him.
He felt safe.
Hewassafe.
His climax was bearing down on him, and when he came, it was with Lawrence’s arms around him, with the sounds of Lawrence’s own pleasure ringing in his ears.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Lawrence woke to the sound of wheels crunching on gravel and the icy chill of a cold breeze. It took him one sleep-addled moment to realize that this meant he hadn’t properly closed the window last night after threatening to throw the jewels outside.
