A Gentleman’s Position(40)

“Melancholy?”

Richard smiled ruefully. “Wondering how I should have fared as plain Mr. Vane.”

“My dear sir. The great Cyprian does not condescend to valet a mere mister.”

Richard laughed aloud, a deep, booming sound that probably carried. David couldn’t care. Richard rolled over, pinning him to the bed, hands gentle on his shoulders, seventeen stone of nobility crushing his chest. David wrapped his legs around Richard’s hips with a groan of pleasure.

“The great Cyprian.” Richard kissed his ear. “Quite right. I should learn my place.”

“It’s here, between my legs.”

Richard reared back, looking down at him. His pupils were wide and black in the dim light. David met his gaze, refusing to drop his eyes.

“God help me, I think it is,” Richard said. “I love you, David. My red fox, my right hand, my flame.”

David couldn’t speak. Then he didn’t have to, because Richard’s mouth was on his, and they were kissing frantically, gripping each other’s faces with desperation. Richard’s strong hand moved under David, taking hold of his arse to haul him closer. David drove his fingers over his lord’s shoulders, down his spine, leaving scratches.

“David.” Richard groaned in his ear, then took the lobe in his teeth, making him whimper. “You make me feel like a callow youth. I need…” He ground his hard length against David’s thighs, and David squirmed to trap it between. Richard sucked in a breath.

“Like that?” David murmured, and felt Richard move his hips, pushing between the flesh. “God, yes. No, lie heavier. Stop bracing yourself. I want your weight.”

Richard lowered himself a little, then more, and the breath hissed out of David’s lungs. Richard was driving between his thighs, hands in his hair, chest pressing him into the bed, and David met his mouth with urgency. He could barely move otherwise. There was too much of the man. It was as though Richard could extinguish him with his sheer bulk, and David shut his eyes and let himself be overwhelmed. Richard grinding faster into him, grunting into his mouth, the solid thickness of his prick rubbing David’s skin. My lord, my lord…

Richard stilled his motion, evidently striving for control. “David. What would you have?”

“You on your back,” David managed. Richard rolled off, and David unpeeled himself from the coverlet and sat up.

Richard lay watching him. David reached out and ran a careful finger down his thigh, nail first, making him twitch. David moved over, silent in concentration, and used all five nails this time, sliding them over the skin of Richard’s inner thigh. That elicited a moan. David smiled to himself and went to work.

He knew this body. He knew it as well as his own, after those years of intent service, even if there was so much that had been forbidden to him before. He knew Richard’s breath, the beat of his heart, the different ways of stillness he had, and he used his knowledge now, roaming Richard’s body with hands and mouth.

“I want to touch you,” he whispered. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

“At your pleasure,” Richard said softly. “At your service.”

David brought his fingers to Richard’s lips, traced them over, pushed inside. Richard caught them in his mouth, sucking them wet, and David rewarded that with a sweep of his hair around Richard’s straining prick and heard a muffled gasp. He pulled his fingers out and ran them down lower, deliberately trailing through body hair, feeling the tension of the man he touched. He brought his hand between Richard’s legs, watched his face. Richard’s lips parted, but he didn’t object.

David lowered his head and finally, after four years and seven months of dreaming, took Richard’s prick in his mouth.

Richard made an airless noise. David tasted carefully, slowly, exploring with lips and tongue, and as he did it, he let his fingers explore too, roaming over Richard’s muscular arse and gently pushing one finger in. Richard’s hand came to David’s head, neither pushing down nor pulling away, just clutching his hair, and David worked him with intent, deep joy, making sure that every movement of his finger was matched by lips and tongue, until he was in Richard to the knuckle.

And now, my lord, here’s something to remember.

David crooked his finger upward, in the gesture that usually meant “come here,” and it brought Richard clean off the bed with a startled yelp of “Christ!,” hips jerking upward so that David had to pull back sharply off his prick.

David grinned at him, deliberately showing off his sharp teeth. Richard’s eyes widened. Then he relaxed, a conscious action, parting his legs a little more.