by Ava March
Yet Gabriel pushed the lust aside. First, he needed to take care of Anthony, see the man tucked into bed and well rested. And then Gabriel could take care of him.
Chapter Twenty
By the time Gabriel figured out how to work the controls on the shower-bath in Anthony’s washroom, every trace of that wicked spark had left Anthony’s eyes and the exhaustion had fully returned.
“I can finish tending to the fire,” Gabriel said as he walked back into the bedchamber. “You, get undressed and get washed.”
Anthony didn’t argue with him. He simply pushed to his feet and began to work on the buttons of his coat. Gabriel took Anthony’s place in front of the bedchamber hearth and prodded the weak flames to full life.
Head bowed, Anthony focused on the buttons of his waistcoat, his fingers moving more than a tad slowly. “Really, it is all right if we wait until tomorrow. One more day can’t possibly do any harm.”
Wait until tomorrow? But Anthony had just told him they both needed to wash up, and Gabriel was fully on board with Anthony’s reason.
“And it’s not as if my mother and siblings would be left destitute,” Anthony continued. “My mother has money of her own she brought into the marriage, Penelope’s dowry is in a separate account and my father put away funds in an account for Simon for when he comes of age. But...” He let out a sigh. “I’m responsible for them and...”
Satisfied the fire was throwing off a decent amount of heat, Gabriel stood and moved to stand before Anthony. His lover hadn’t been going on about bathing. Anthony had jumped back to worrying about the unknown state of his finances. Gabriel gently moved Anthony’s hands from the waistcoat’s buttons—it was a wonder the man had even got his coat undone—and finished up the task. “We can take care of it tomorrow.” He pushed the garment off Anthony’s shoulders.
“Yes but...” Another sigh from Anthony. Chin still tipped down, he said, voice low and slow, full of the weariness that pervaded his entire body, “I really do wish I wasn’t such an idiot.”
“Please, Anthony, stop calling yourself that.”
“But it’s true,” Anthony countered, not on the defensive, but as though he had declared defeat. “And it’s not as if I haven’t tried. I did. I have. I’ve made myself sick with the effort. If I wasn’t such a dimwit, then I could do what other men can do so easily.”
“Chin up. Your cravat,” he added by way of explanation. “Unless you’d prefer to keep it on.”
“Hell no.” Anthony did as bid, lifting his chin, putting him on eye level with Gabriel. Yet his attention drifted off toward the hearth, avoiding Gabriel’s gaze.
“Not every man can read.” Gabriel’s fingers brushed Anthony’s bristly jaw as he undid the knot.
“Every man who is taught can.”
“Are you certain about that?” Linen swooshed softly as Gabriel gently pulled the long length from Anthony’s neck, the wrinkled fabric warm with a touch of dampness.
“No one else at Eton had the same problem that I had.”
“Perhaps. But you can’t know that for certain. Maybe the other miscreants were only causing trouble to avoid lessons, same as you.”
Anthony gave what could almost qualify as a shrug. “I doubt it, though.”
A tug was all it took to release the top two buttons of Anthony’s trousers. Gabriel took hold of the sides of Anthony’s shirt. “Arms up.”
And he whisked the shirt over Anthony’s head, revealing his bare chest, which Gabriel tried not to take notice of. He dropped down to his haunches and turned his attention to Anthony’s shoes in an effort not to also notice Anthony’s groin, which was now at a very convenient level.
“No one is proficient at everything,” Gabriel said. “We all have skills we can’t master. It reminds me of when I was about eleven. Helen, my eldest sister, played the piano when she was younger. Was quite good at it.” He tapped Anthony’s ankle. Anthony lifted his foot enough so Gabriel could remove his shoe, then he set to work on the other. “I loved listening to her practice, and I decided I wanted to learn to play. Even got my father to agree I could have lessons that summer. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many hours I spent at the instrument...my fingers did not want to cooperate. Rhythm and melodies—I can appreciate them but I can’t produce them. And I couldn’t lay the blame on the old piano master because he had been able to teach Helen to play beautifully. It was me. Music is simply something I can’t do.” With the second shoe removed, he got to his feet. “Perhaps reading is your piano. Just something to consider.”
Brows lowered, Anthony’s mouth thinned, but it wasn’t a frown of disagreement or of a man gathering his thoughts for an argument. More one of consideration.
“You aren’t an idiot, Anthony.” He wanted to give Anthony a hug, to reassure him over and over again that he was a wonderful, amazing man. Yet Gabriel finally had Anthony off the defensive, had him actually reconsidering a view of himself that he’d obviously held as truth for many years. So he held off on doing anything Anthony might perceive as coddling and merely stated the facts. “You are quick-witted and smart and resourceful and you can manage me, for Christ’s sake. And I love you.” He leaned in and gave Anthony a light kiss, a mere brush of lips. “Now off to the washroom with you.”
Rather than argue that he wasn’t smart or resourceful, Anthony asked, “You aren’t going to remove my trousers?”
“No.” He’d had a hard enough time keeping his attention off Anthony’s bared chest. He didn’t need more bare skin to distract him from his purpose—which was to get Anthony washed, into bed and then to sleep. With no stops along the way to indulge.
“You don’t make a very good valet.” Anthony tugged the remaining buttons on the placket free and pushed his trousers down his hips. Finely tailored wool whooshed to the floorboards. “And thank you. I love you too.” He turned and strode into the washroom, naked as the day he was born.
Gabriel shook his head in amusement, very happy to have been told he made a poor valet. If Anthony was teasing him, then that meant his lover was feeling more like his old self again.
He busied himself unpacking Anthony’s saddlebag and bringing his own two bags into the bedchamber. By the time he had shaken out the wrinkles in the coat he planned to wear tomorrow, his cock had forgotten he had got an eyeful of Anthony’s bare arse. Sleeping beside a naked Anthony would pose another challenge entirely, but Gabriel was determined to stick to his purpose.
There was a snick of a doorknob turning.
“Are you done in there?” Gabriel asked, as he focused on removing his own waistcoat and deliberately didn’t glance to the washroom.
“Yes, and I feel much better. Damned glad to be done with that stubble.”
There was the soft sound of bare feet padding across floorboards, then the faint creak of the ropes beneath the mattress mixed with the quiet swoosh of sheets.
Those sounds went directly to Gabriel’s cock.
Instead of removing the rest of his clothes, Gabriel grabbed his razor from one of his bags and headed straight for the washroom.
When he emerged from the washroom a good quarter of an hour later, he found Anthony sprawled on his stomach, fast asleep. His back rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern beneath the coverlet, lashes pressed against his cheekbones and lips slightly parted. The ends of his hair were still damp. Moving as silently as he was able, Gabriel adjusted the heavy drapes on the windows, making sure they blocked as much of the day’s light as possible. Then he prodded the fire in the hearth and extinguished the candle on the chest of drawers, plunging the room into deep gray shadows. It wasn’t completely dark, but as close as achievable during the day in a room with windows.
He went to the other side of the bed and slipped beneath the sheets. A moment later, and Anthony shifted, moving closer, as if drawn to him, even in sle
ep. A hair-dusted calf pressed against his own. A strong arm was slung over Gabriel’s waist. And with a smile on his lips, Gabriel let sleep overtake him.
* * *
A light touch traced the line of his spine, tickling his skin and rousing him from sleep. Lying on his stomach, Anthony adjusted his hips, needing to give his trapped erection some relief. Hell, was his cock hard. The thrum of arousal coursed through his veins, heating his skin. Had he had an erotic dream? He struggled to get his half-awake mind to cooperate and tried to grab on to any remaining snippets of a dream, but found nothing.
A playful nip of teeth to his right arse cheek. Lust shot straight to his ballocks.
He opened his eyes to find the space beside him empty, the sheet on the mattress wrinkled and the coverlet pushed back.
Levering up onto his forearms, Anthony looked over his shoulder. Gabriel was crouched over him, head bowed over Anthony’s arse. Gabriel pressed a kiss to the spot he’d just nipped, then looked up to meet Anthony’s gaze. Even in the near-darkness of the room, Anthony could see the passion in Gabriel’s eyes.
“Good morning,” Anthony said, voice scratchy with sleep.
“Good afternoon. It’s almost three. You’ve been napping for near five hours.”
Afternoon or morning. Didn’t much matter to Anthony. What mattered was that Gabriel was clearly of a mind to play.
Anthony made to roll onto his back, but Gabriel palmed one of his hips, staying him.
“I like you right here,” Gabriel said.
“Do you now?”
A sinful smile didn’t touch Gabriel’s lips, but it most definitely lit the depths of his grass-green eyes. “Yes.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m quite fond of your arse. I find it—” another nip to Anthony’s cheek, another hot burst of lust shooting straight to his ballocks “—delectable.”
“Really? And you haven’t even tasted all of it yet.” He swung one knee up toward his side, fully exposing himself to Gabriel’s gaze.
Would Gabriel do it? Would it even occur to him? It wasn’t as if Gabriel had much sensual experience before they had started sharing a bed together. In fact, his lover had had none where it concerned any other man besides Anthony...which thrilled Anthony to no end. He was the only man Gabriel had ever touched. The only man Gabriel had ever kissed, had ever made love to. And Anthony would hold that honor until the end of their days. Yet while he absolutely adored being Gabriel’s only male lover, that distinction meant there were some intimate acts that might not ever occur to Gabriel. If their positions were reversed, he could show Gabriel the possibilities. Yet as they were...
Anthony glanced down to his own arse, then caught Gabriel’s gaze again. That was as far as he would go in terms of nudging. While Gabriel had enthusiastically embraced erotic play in the past, such an intimate act didn’t appeal to all men. If Gabriel didn’t pick up the hint, then either his inexperience was showing itself or Gabriel was unwilling. And the last thing Anthony wanted was to prod Gabriel into something he wasn’t comfortable doing.
Yet just the thought of Gabriel putting those gorgeous lips on Anthony’s most intimate skin...
A low moan rumbled his throat before he could stifle it.
Gabriel arched a brow. He passed his gaze over Anthony’s arse, then he smiled. A smile steeped in carnal promise.
Oh hell and damnation. Gabriel understood what Anthony was hinting at, and from the looks of it, Gabriel definitely approved.
Thank you, God above.
“You want me to lick your arse?” Gabriel asked, full of confidence, the reserved gentleman long gone.
“Yes.” Anthony was barely able to get the word out. Anticipation and lust roared through him.
“Say it.”
He swallowed hard to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. “I want you to lick my arse.”
“Would it please you?”
Anthony nodded.
“I want to hear it.”
“Yes, it would please me if you licked my arse.” He swallowed again. “And you could kiss it as well while you are at it.”
With his weight levered on one arm, Gabriel drew back his free hand and smacked Anthony’s upturned cheek. The sting zipped through him, backed by a heavy burst of pleasure.
Anthony let out a groan.
“Perhaps I should redden this delectable arse first.”
“Please do.” Hell, that had sounded suspiciously like a beg. But he didn’t care in the slightest. When Gabriel was like this, fully in control, taking control of him...
Arching his back, Anthony shifted his hips, lifting partially onto his knees, offering himself up to Gabriel like a total wanton.
Gabriel reared back onto his own knees, erection jutting from between his thighs, and appraised him. Anthony fought the urge to wriggle under that intent, hot scrutiny. The anticipation, the wait, knowing what was to come but not knowing when Gabriel would deign to give it to him...
The very definition of torture, but it was torture of the most exquisite, most appealing variety. And Anthony found he’d developed quite the appetite for it over the past several months.
Gabriel smoothed a hand over Anthony’s cheek. “Your arse is perfect, just like the rest of you.”
He wasn’t about to argue with Gabriel. If Gabriel thought him perfect, then Anthony would damned well agree with him, if it would earn him a few swift smacks.
The moment drew out. The anticipation ramped higher.
Anthony wriggled his hips, the slightest of movements.
Gabriel’s palm connected with Anthony’s arse, the sound cracking through the bedchamber.
Bowing his head, Anthony moaned. And he held on tight to the sheet covering the mattress as Gabriel rained smack after smack onto his upturned arse. The fiery sizzle of pain, the thick swell of pleasure. His cock ached for a touch, his lungs heaved for more air, yet he held himself still. Reveled in the sensations.
And then there was silence.
Before he could wonder if Gabriel would indeed gift him with his mouth, he felt the mattress shift and a hot, wet tongue was dragged across his entrance.
Anthony dropped his forehead to the pillow. The most indecent noises rumbled from his chest. Gasps and groans and breathy moans. Decadent, obscene pleasure turned to sound as Gabriel lavished him with the most decadent of pleasures.
Hands gripping Anthony’s smarting cheeks, Gabriel spread him further, delivering a firm tug on his hole. The ache to be filled, to have Gabriel’s cock deep inside, thrusting hard, rose within. The moisture from Gabriel’s mouth dripped from his wet hole, tickling the skin behind his ballocks. He was ready. Damnation, he was so ready for Gabriel to fuck him.
As if sensing his thoughts, Gabriel pushed a finger inside of him. Anthony couldn’t stop himself from pushing back, eager for more.
Then that gorgeous mouth left him.
“Please, Gabriel.” Aroused past the point of desperation, he worked himself on Gabriel’s finger, nudging his hips back. “Please.”
Gabriel spit onto his entrance. So goddamned crude, so goddamned erotic. Then he pushed a second finger inside, and allowed Anthony to fuck himself on those two digits.
“Do you want more?” Gabriel asked, voice deliciously deep and backed by a sharp thread of impatience.
“Yes, I want your cock in my arse.” The words rushed out of him. “Yes, I want you to fuck me. Yes, I want you to make me spill my seed all over the bed.”
He felt the heat from Gabriel’s body an instant before sweat-slicked skin touched his back.
“You are so perfect,” Gabriel whispered into his ear, the hard veil of command gone, leaving only his lover.
Then those two digits were gone and Gabriel’s cock was pushing inside of him.
A guttur
al groan shook Anthony’s throat as he was stretched so wonderfully wide. Inch by slow inch, Gabriel eased forward until Anthony felt the press of Gabriel’s ballocks against his arse. A hand covered one of his own that was still clutching the sheet. Anthony released the cotton fabric, and Gabriel’s fingers slid between his.
And Gabriel was thrusting into him. Deep and slow. All the way in, then halfway out. Those lusciously slow strokes robbed Anthony of all rational thought. He could only feel. Gabriel’s thick cock inside of him, Gabriel’s lean body covering his own, Gabriel’s hand holding his. Gabriel’s hot breaths scorched his neck. And the pleasure cranked higher and higher.
His knees gave out from under him. Pressing him flat to the mattress, Gabriel kept driving into him. Deep and deliberate yet unhurried. As if they had all the time in the world. As if an impending climax wasn’t tickling Anthony’s nerves and beginning to grip his ballocks. And with the way his cock rubbed against the sheet with each of those slow strokes, Anthony knew the orgasm would soon be washing over him.
Yet he tried to hold off, to extend the moment. Their bodies joined together so intimately. The bedchamber draped in dark shadows. Panting breaths and shared bliss.
Gabriel’s hold on Anthony’s hand tightened. “Love you.” The words brushed Anthony’s ear.
“Love you too,” Anthony gasped.
Gabriel paused at the end of the next downstroke and rotated his hips.
And it was as if Gabriel pushed a button inside of him. The climax raced through Anthony’s body. A harsh sound erupted from him as white-hot pleasure enveloped his senses. And Gabriel kept rotating his hips, grinding against him, drawing out the orgasm and wringing every drop of seed from Anthony’s cock.
Just when Anthony began to doubt if he could take another moment of such intense ecstasy, Gabriel thrust one, twice. A hoarse grunt shook Gabriel’s chest, reverberating through Anthony’s back, and he felt Gabriel climax inside of him.
