Viscount’s Wager

by Ava March

  “No. It looks worse than it actually is.” Gabriel shrugged his greatcoat from his shoulders, and reaching behind him, hung it on the coatrack. He took a step closer to Anthony, breaching the distance between them.

  “Are you certain you are all right?” If he wasn’t mistaken, there was also a shadow of a bruise on Gabriel’s jaw.

  “Quite certain.” Reaching out, Gabriel palmed Anthony’s hips. “Though there is one thing I desperately need. You,” he said, voice lower, rougher, edged with intoxicating dominance.

  Yet Anthony fought off the flare of lust. “What’s in the bag?” Anthony asked, nudging his chin toward the leather bag Gabriel had left on the floor.

  “My straight razor and clothes for the morning.”

  The morning? Gabriel intended to stay the night with him?

  That was good news indeed.

  Tipping his head slightly to one side, Gabriel leaned in closer. So close, their breaths mingled. “I didn’t knock on your door seeking your nursemaid skills.”

  “Why did you knock on my door then?” Anthony couldn’t help but ask. Given the passion blazing in Gabriel’s eyes, the answer was rather obvious. Still. He wanted to hear the words from Gabriel.

  “I want you.”

  Damnation, did he love hearing that from Gabriel. “Well, then.” Anthony smiled. “Grab your bag and come into my bedchamber.”

  Stepping out of Gabriel’s embrace, he picked up the lit candlestick he’d left on the console table and went into the bedchamber.

  Footsteps followed him.

  His bed was untidy—the sheet and coverlet thrown back, the pillows bunched at the headboard—and the fire in the hearth was naught but embers. But he highly doubted Gabriel would care. He had just set the candlestick on the bedside table when a warm, clothed body pressed up behind him.

  Reaching around him, Gabriel extinguished the flame, plunging the room into near darkness.

  Gabriel’s hot breaths bathed Anthony’s neck. His cock hardened, desperate to feel Gabriel’s touch. As if sensing his thoughts, Gabriel tugged at the placket of Anthony’s trousers. Pushed them down his hips. Fabric whooshed to the floorboards.

  Turning his head, Anthony captured Gabriel’s lips. Their tongues tangled. Gabriel is staying the night with me. There would be no waking alone to an empty bed. No standing at the parlor window, watching as Gabriel walked away from him again. For the first time, he’d fall asleep beside Gabriel and wake up beside him. Just like he wanted to do for the rest of their days.

  Breaking the kiss, Gabriel tugged Anthony around to face him. With his hands on Anthony’s hips, Gabriel guided him back a step. His calves bumped into the mattress.

  “Sit,” Gabriel whispered, heated and urgent. “I want to taste you.”

  “Are you certain?” Gabriel had never done that to him before. And why the hell are you questioning him? Gabriel’s mouth on his cock? That had been his favorite adolescent masturbatory fantasy, and if truth be told, it still ranked quite high on the list.

  “Yes. And you certainly like your questions.”

  “That I do,” Anthony said, as he sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs wide enough for Gabriel to fit between them. With one hand, he stroked his erection, needing some sort of friction. Yet he kept his touch light, not wanting to bring himself too close to an orgasm. Just the thought of Gabriel sucking him off... His ballocks lurched up tight to his body.

  There was the faint rustle of fabric shifting as the shadowed form before him dropped down between his knees. Palms coasted up his thighs. A hand settled over his own on his prick, stilling his movements.

  “That’s mine,” Gabriel growled.

  A moan shook Anthony’s throat. “It’s all yours.” He slid his hand from underneath Gabriel’s, relinquishing his cock to his lover.

  Fingers wrapped around his length. Warm breath fanned the needy crown. Anticipation rushed through him. And then... Nothing.

  The pace of those breaths fanning his skin quickened.

  Anthony rested his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, the silk fabric of his waistcoat warm beneath his palm. The thought flittered through his head—Gabriel must have shed his coat at some point before entering the bedchamber. Instead of tugging Gabriel closer, instead of nudging him to move it along, he gave his lover’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “You don’t need to.”

  “But I want to.” Moist heat briefly engulfed his crown. A sinful embrace that was there and then gone. “Just wanted to savor the moment.”

  “Well then, savor all you like.”

  And savor Gabriel did. His lips slid ever so slowly down Anthony’s length, paused halfway and then just as slowly, glided back up to the crown. What had to be Gabriel’s tongue lapped across the surface, traced the perimeter in a leisurely caress. And then moist heat once again embraced his length. Gabriel picked up a rhythm with his fist, stroking in counterpoint. Every inch of his erection was bestowed with attention. Gabriel’s attention.

  Hell, how Anthony wished Gabriel hadn’t extinguished the candle. To watch as Gabriel sucked him off, to see his cock slide between those gorgeous lips? Yet with the darkness robbing him of his sight, all his other senses were magnified. The crude sound of a mouth working a cock mixed with Gabriel’s muffled breaths. The scents of lust and need. And the feel of Gabriel’s mouth on his prick? Hot and wet, soft yet firm. Decadent, luscious and perfect.

  For Gabriel’s first time, he was giving a damned good showing of himself. God help Anthony a month from now. Gabriel would have him on the brink of a climax with only a few strokes of his mouth.

  Definitely something to look forward to.

  On the next glide down, Gabriel applied suction. Anthony let out a groan. His head lolled back as he gave himself up to Gabriel.

  Slick fingertips skimmed over his ballocks, traced the patch of skin behind. With a wiggle that put him on the very edge of the mattress, Anthony spread his legs wider apart, granting Gabriel access. And Gabriel took it.

  A whisper-soft touch across his entrance, teasing and light. Just when Anthony was about to bump his hips forward, impale himself on Gabriel’s digits, one fingertip pushed inside. And with Gabriel’s mouth still on his prick, his lover finger-fucked his arse. The dual sensations...

  “Yes, Gabriel. Oh yes, like that.” The words rushed from his mouth. His grip tightened on Gabriel’s shoulder. “So damned good.”

  Gabriel pulled out, pulled free. There was the sound of him spitting, and then two freshly slicked fingers pushed inside of him just as wet heat slid back down his length.

  Anthony couldn’t stop himself from bumping into Gabriel’s strokes, wanting more. Needing more. Gabriel picked up the pace. Thrusting deeper, sucking harder. Two fingers became three. An impending orgasm tickled his nerve endings. He didn’t want Gabriel to stop, yet he also wanted Gabriel’s cock in his arse. Wanted him to slam into him. Fill him. Take him.

  “I want you to fuck me. Please. Now.”

  Those fingers and that amazing mouth left him.

  “Up. Turn around,” Gabriel urged.

  Anthony didn’t need to be told twice. He lurched to his feet, turned to face the bed. As he made to climb onto the mattress, Gabriel grabbed his hips, stilling him.

  “Right here. I want you bent over the side of the bed.”

  More than eager to oblige, Anthony bent at the waist and rested his elbows on the mattress. He heard the wooden glide of a drawer opening. Caught the scent of almond oil. Fingers passed over his hole, slicking him with oil. Then a blunt pressure pressed against him, demanding entry. Arching his back, Anthony relaxed his muscles. And the fat head of Gabriel’s cock pushed inside him.

  “Yes, yes,” Anthony chanted, as Gabriel pushed deeper and deeper, until Anthony felt the press of the hair on his groin a
gainst his skin. Panting, Anthony absorbed the sensations. The all-encompassing fullness. The delicious bite of stretch.

  The rustle of fabric registered in his brain. Fabric? And why wasn’t Gabriel moving?

  Impaled on Gabriel’s cock, he looked over his shoulder and could just make out the darkened shapes of Gabriel’s arms moving around his chest.

  “Are you undressing?” he asked. Instead of buggering him, Gabriel was pausing to remove the rest of his clothes?

  “Are you complaining?” A palm connected with his flank. The sting of the smack zinged through him. The impending orgasm that had been tickling his nerves jumped to the forefront of his senses. “You wanted my cock. Now. And you got it.”

  Gabriel whisked his shirt over his head. Tossed it to the floor. Then he took hold of Anthony’s hips, fingers digging into his skin, and proceeded to give him a very thorough fucking.

  “Do you like my cock in your arse?” Gabriel asked, taking control of him, taking command.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “Deep. Hard.” He panted for breath. “Love when you slam into me, make me take it all.”

  Grabbing Anthony’s shoulder, Gabriel hauled him back to meet each rough thrust. “Like this?” he demanded.

  Anthony let out a ragged groan. “Hell yes.” Sweat beaded his skin. Pleasure coursed through him. And all he could think was, More.

  But the orgasm was so close he could practically feel it washing his senses. Gripping the rumpled sheet, he resisted the urge to reach down and take himself in hand. With each smack of Gabriel’s hips, Anthony’s erection bobbed between his legs, an iron-hard length that begged for attention.

  Anthony grunted, moaned. His lungs heaved for air. Every muscle in his body was strung taut, reaching, pleading for the climax. Then like a physical blow, the orgasm crashed into him. So strong, so swift, the intensity pulled a gasp of surprise from him. Seed shot from his cock. Gabriel’s thrusts turned ragged. And with one final hard slam, Gabriel spilled deep inside of him.

  * * *

  Anthony transferred the eggs from the pan to two plates. Using the two shallow bowls he’d left on the counter, he placed them upside down over the eggs to keep the food warm. His miniscule kitchen wasn’t stocked with dome silver covers like the town house’s kitchen, but bowls served the same function. And it wasn’t as if he was in the habit of hosting elaborate dinner parties at the apartments. When he had a guest at his table, it was for breakfast. Though more often than not, the guest left before dawn. His current guest, however, hadn’t followed that pattern.

  When Anthony had awoken this morning, he’d been overjoyed and relieved to find Gabriel beside him. His arm slung over Anthony’s waist, his gorgeous features relaxed in sleep. Yet the joy and relief hadn’t lasted long.

  Instead of waking Gabriel with kisses and decadent touches, Anthony had slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of trousers and gone to the kitchen.

  Why had Gabriel chosen last night of all nights to stay with him? Why had he knocked on his door at three in the morning instead of the usual midnight? And those bruises...

  He had tried to get answers from Gabriel, but the man had either avoided answering or only provided short vague answers, which had spoken louder than words that Gabriel hadn’t wanted to be subjected to Anthony’s questions.

  After setting the two plates on the small dining table, Anthony put the pan and cooking utensils in the basin to take care of later, then set to work on the toast. And the leather bag... Last night, Anthony had been damned near ecstatic that Gabriel had decided to stay with him. Yet in the harsh light of dawn, that bag stood out like a blazing beacon. Even though Gabriel was a tidy individual, to come so prepared for the morning, to be so blatant about it, especially given how adamantly Gabriel had avoided sleeping with him before, felt...off. As Anthony had passed Gabriel’s bag on his way out of the bedchamber to go to the kitchen, he had been tempted to peek inside and verify its contents, yet had resisted the impulse.

  Instead, he’d resolved to have a discussion with Gabriel over breakfast. The two of them seated. The table between them. Gabriel wouldn’t be able to use kisses and lust to distract Anthony from his purpose. There was the possibility the discussion would not go so well, but he couldn’t ignore the worry that had been building in his gut all morning. The 3 a.m. knock, the bruises, the leather bag, the avoidance, the way Anthony hadn’t seen Gabriel about Mayfair in weeks, and the way Gabriel had yet to mention his brother-in-law had returned to Town or that he’d taken a room in the East Side or that he’d been spending time at gambling tables.

  Everything about last night, down to Gabriel extinguishing the candle when he’d entered Anthony’s bedchamber—which Anthony now recognized as an attempt by Gabriel to hide those bruises—stood out in Anthony’s mind, demanding answers. Hell, Gabriel had even sucked him off. Had it been because Gabriel had truly wanted to, or had it simply been another of Gabriel’s distractions?

  Come to think of it, Gabriel had done things to him last night. Not with him. They had been wicked, wonderful and pleasurable things. Anthony had quite enjoyed them. But...there had been a distance between them that Anthony hadn’t felt before. Had it been deliberate on Gabriel’s part? In fact, Gabriel hadn’t once initiated a kiss. There had been no desperation-soaked kiss when he’d walked through the door. No sloppy, sated kiss as they lay together, panting as bliss saturated their senses. Gabriel had sucked him then fucked him, then collapsed on the bed next to him. The single kiss they had shared had been prompted by Anthony.

  The muffled click of a door closing echoed in the quiet apartment. Had to be Gabriel going into the washroom. The scent of cooking food must have woken him. Or perhaps Gabriel was simply an early riser. The man had lived most of his life in the country, after all.

  Anthony grabbed the bowl containing the well-done toast and the coffeepot, and brought them to the table. A quick check to make certain everything was at the ready, a small adjustment to a fork to straighten it beside a plate, and then he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down.

  He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out. But it didn’t help a whit to calm the jumble of nerves in his stomach. It will be all right, he told himself. They would have a discussion like mature adults, and he’d be certain to stress that the only reason he wanted answers was because he cared about Gabriel. Surely Gabriel wouldn’t get angry with him for caring about him. He wanted a future with Gabriel, and in order to have that, Gabriel needed to be honest with him. Avoidance and lies had no place in a committed relationship...unless Gabriel didn’t believe they were in a committed relationship.

  Was Gabriel spending time with another? Was that one of the reasons his visits had become more infrequent? Was someone else knocking on Gabriel’s door at Smith’s Inn?

  Enough.

  Anthony scrubbed his hands over his face. He would get answers soon enough. No point exhausting himself with questions in the meantime.

  There was another muffled click of a door followed a moment later by the bedchamber door opening. From Anthony’s place at the table, he could see Gabriel walk into the parlor. The man was clad in trousers and a shirt, complete with a neatly tied cravat, but no waistcoat or coat, indicating he must not intend to immediately vacate the apartments. That was a positive sign.

  Gabriel’s gaze swept the parlor then landed on Anthony at the table. “There you are,” he said, crossing to the dining room. A small smile played on his mouth. “I must not have done it properly last night. I thought you weren’t an early riser.”

  Was Gabriel actually teasing him? Yet the sight of the bruise darkening Gabriel’s left eye effectively squashed the impulse to abandon his plan in favor of a teasing, smiling Gabriel. “You definitely did it properly. No worries there. And I’m not normally prone to lazing about in bed.” Well, he was w
hen he’d been thoroughly buggered the night before. On any other morning after Gabriel had paid him a call, he’d have slept the sleep of the dead. Yet it had been as if his mind had wanted to verify Gabriel had stayed with him, refusing to allow him nine hours of recuperative sleep.

  Briefly getting to his feet, Anthony removed the covers from the plates and set them aside.

  “Resourceful of you,” Gabriel said, with a tip of the head to the makeshift covers.

  “More practical. Eggs cool quickly. I hope you are hungry.”

  “Very much so.” Gabriel took the chair at the other place setting opposite Anthony.

  “Care for coffee?” He motioned to the white porcelain pot.

  “Thank you.” Gabriel poured himself a cup. Little tendrils of steam rose from the surface. “And thank you for cooking breakfast.” Bringing the cup to his lips, he took a sip. He must have told the truth about the straight razor in his bag, for his jaw appeared freshly shaven. The skin smooth with nary a stray hair, verifying that Anthony hadn’t been mistaken the prior night. There was a shadow of a bruise marring Gabriel’s jaw.

  “How is your eye?” Anthony asked, trying for a casual tone, as he picked up his fork.

  The little smile on Gabriel’s mouth dimmed. “It’s fine. Like I said last night, it looks worse than it is.”

  Anthony took a moment to mentally steel himself. Resolve firmly in place, he met Gabriel’s gaze. “I care about you, Gabriel. I hope you know if you ever need help with anything, you only need to ask me.”

  Breaking eye contact, Gabriel gave him a single nod. Reaching to the bowl, he selected a piece of toast. Once he’d covered the charred surface with jam, he took a bite. Anthony waited as he chewed, swallowed and took another sip of coffee.

  As Gabriel set his cup back down, he caught Anthony’s gaze. “I’ll admit I was a bit disappointed to wake to an empty bed. Breakfast is nice, but perhaps after”—his voice dropped to a low rumble—”I can fuck you senseless again.”

  Yet rather than arouse him, Gabriel’s wicked proposition had the opposite effect.