“Because you are being unfaithful to this woman?” she asked, not sure whom to be offended on behalf of—Barnabas or this mystery woman.
“No,” he said. “She has no idea I care for her. No, it is a terrible thing because Barnabas has neither the time nor the inclination to return tender feelings. He told me as much. What we have is temporary. I do not think that is the sort of fellow I am.” She’d forgotten for a moment that he’d been a virgin last night. How awful for him, to care for two people who would not love him back.
“Surely you can tell her,” she urged, “if you feel that this affair with Barnabas will end badly, although I think you are wrong. But if it is this woman you wish to pursue, then perhaps you should end it with Sir Barnabas.”
“I can’t,” he said simply. “It’s gone too far, and she is unattainable. I shall have to see it to the end, no matter how hard that may be.” He leaned forward and took her hand again. “So, we are friends now, aren’t we? I’ve certainly told you things I’ve never told anyone else, which is quite extraordinary. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“You have not,” she told him with a smile. “And yes, we are friends now.”
Chapter 16
“Barnabas.” He was licking Ambrose’s aroused nipple, and when he moaned his name, Barnabas liked it. He more than liked it. Making Ambrose lose control had become his favorite pastime in the last twenty-four hours.
Ambrose had readily ascended the stairs with him tonight, and when Barnabas had grabbed him as soon as the chamber door closed, Ambrose had been just as eager. Within minutes they were rolling around the bed, kissing and humping one another like fiends. Barnabas couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this enthusiastic to bed someone.
The window was open again. Tonight Barnabas wasn’t sure if he’d done it because he was trying to influence Mel’s opinion of him or because he was aroused by the thought of her listening to him fuck Ambrose. It was most likely a potent combination of the two.
“It would seem you like that,” he murmured against Ambrose’s manly chest. Barnabas liked to fuck men like Ambrose—big, muscular, virile. To bring a man like that to his knees was exhilarating.
He’d left Ambrose partially dressed again, merely taking off his cravat and unbuttoning his jacket and waistcoat. If Ambrose scurried away after as he had the night before, then he’d have fewer clothes to put on incorrectly. Barnabas smiled against the soft, fragrant skin between Ambrose’s chest and his stomach at the memory of his waistcoat buttoned askew.
“Yes,” Ambrose admitted simply, not even bothering to lie. That, too, was refreshing. Barnabas had gotten used to fucking men and women who had secrets to hide, just like he did. They practiced their lying with each other even as they engaged in intimate discourse. Ambrose’s honesty made him feel he was fucking a human being for the first time in years. There was no one-upmanship between them. Just lust the likes of which Barnabas had not felt for a very long time.
He bit Ambrose’s nipple, a light nip, and he jerked beneath Barnabas, sucking in a harsh breath.
“And that?” Barnabas asked smoothly. “Did you like that?”
“God help me, I like everything you do to me,” Ambrose said fervently. “You have ruined me.”
Barnabas laughed in delight. “Not yet, but I’m going to.” He slid his hand down and rubbed Ambrose’s aroused cock through his trousers. “Were you like this all day?”
“Were you?” Ambrose asked, reaching out and imitating Barnabas’s caress. Barnabas’s breath actually stuttered at the hot flash of desire that shot through him.
“Yes,” he said, trying out a little honesty of his own. It felt good to admit it. “Especially after you came to my office.”
“After I left I could hardly walk,” Ambrose admitted ruefully. “I was hard as a pike. I don’t think I should visit your office anymore. We shall have to correspond via notes.”
“Next time you come, I shall simply take care of this before you leave,” Barnabas promised. “I rule my office. I can fuck there if I so choose.”
“Have you?” Ambrose asked. The last word was said in a broken voice as his hips thrust up in response to Barnabas’s tightening hold.
“Yes,” Barnabas said. He looked up at Ambrose. “Does that bother you?”
“A little,” he admitted. “I know I am just one in a long line of men—”
“And women,” Barnabas interjected.
“Of course,” Ambrose said drily. “And women, who have shared your bed.”
“Or just copulated in my office or wherever we happened to be,” Barnabas added. “Don’t go falling in love with me, Wetherald,” he warned. “I am not the type who should be loved.”
“Is that the speech you give them all?” Ambrose asked, his voice giving nothing away.
“Yes. And they’ve all heeded it.” Barnabas climbed off the bed. “Foot.”
“What?” Ambrose leaned up on his elbows to watch Barnabas. He clearly had no idea what a temptation he was lying there spread out, his jacket, waistcoat, and shirt falling open to reveal that splendid chest. His light brown curls and that damn beard made him look like a ravaged saint. Barnabas felt like the lucky devil that got to do the ravaging.
“I have to take your boots off in order to strip your trousers off,” he explained.
Ambrose paled. “Is that…necessary?” he asked.
Barnabas tried not to let his impatience show. “Yes, Ambrose. If I am to fuck your arse, I have to have access to it. It is required.” Ambrose looked a little panicked. “I’m not going to rip them off and then shove my cock in,” Barnabas said, impatience finally winning. “I want to enjoy you thoroughly first until you’re begging for it. Now, foot.”
Ambrose hesitantly raised his foot for Barnabas. “I don’t see myself begging for a cock in the arse,” he said, his misgivings obvious.
“Trust me, you’ll be begging,” Barnabas promised after he pulled the first boot off. “Other foot.” Ambrose lifted his left leg, and Barnabas straddled it before he yanked the boot off.
“Have you begged for a cock in the arse?” Barnabas turned around to see Ambrose staring at his bottom as he bent over to set the boot down on the floor.
“Yes.” Barnabas had never actually begged, of course, but there were times he’d wanted to. He had a feeling Ambrose could make him beg if he really tried. He vowed not to give the other man the opportunity. This was about owning Ambrose’s soul, not handing his over to Ambrose.
He stood up and faced Ambrose and began to unbutton his own trousers. “What are you doing?” Ambrose asked in alarm.
“Again, if I am to fuck you, I need access to my cock.”
Ambrose’s gaze immediately went to his crotch, and he didn’t look away as Barnabas worked the pants over his hips and let them fall to the floor. He still wore his shirt, which was quite long and hid most of his cock from view, but the fact that he was hard was unmistakable through the thin muslin. Barnabas climbed back on the bed and straddled Ambrose’s legs, not even attempting to maintain his modesty for Ambrose’s sensibilities. He’d sucked his damn cock yesterday, after all. Once you had a man’s rod in your mouth, you didn’t get to play coy.
Ambrose couldn’t tear his gaze away from the bulge under Barnabas’s shirt, which only made it grow. “Let me help you with these,” Barnabas said, reaching for the buttons on Ambrose’s trousers. He’d undressed the other man more in the last two days than he had anyone else in recent memory. He didn’t mind the extra work. Ambrose obligingly lifted his hips to let Barnabas pull the pants off. His expression was determined despite the furious blush on his face.
Christ, his cock was glorious. After he’d pulled Ambrose’s pants off, Barnabas couldn’t resist crawling back up on all fours to bury his nose in the soft downy hair next to his rampant cock. “You smell divine,” he said.
Without another word he swallowed Ambrose and the other man gave a shout, throwing his head back as he clutched the blanket b
eneath him in tight fists. Barnabas didn’t give him any time to think or protest. He slid his mouth off and down and sucked one of his testicles lightly.
“Oh God,” Ambrose said, his voice rough and desperate.
“Just Barnabas,” he replied, not bothering to hide his amusement. He slid his tongue down to the sensitive skin between ballocks and anus and Ambrose whimpered. Then he ran the tip around that tight, virgin hole.
“Barnabas,” Ambrose said. His voice had lost the whimper. It was deep and sonorous, and caused a shiver to go down Barnabas’s back.
His cock was leaking he wanted inside this hole so much. He pushed back Ambrose’s legs and exposed his most secret places as he licked and sucked the tender skin there.
“This is…” Ambrose fell back on the bed, where he fisted his own hair. “Awkward.” Barnabas laughed while still on task, and Ambrose gasped. He gave that tight back entrance one more kiss before he rose to his knees.
“Do all men do that?” Ambrose asked as Barnabas leaned over him and grabbed a jar of fragrant oil from the table. His cock dragged across Ambrose’s hips and stomach as he did so, and he felt Ambrose shiver beneath him. He adjusted his position until their cocks met and he rubbed against Ambrose like a cat. Ambrose grabbed his shoulders, fingers digging in, but he didn’t push him away.
“If they’re smart they do,” he answered. “Didn’t it feel good?”
“It felt just this side of sinful,” Ambrose said. He tentatively raised his hips and caused their cocks to rub some more. He groaned. “I had no idea that would feel good.”
“It all feels good,” Barnabas said. “So relax and enjoy it.”
“Will you be done with me after this is over?” Ambrose asked as Barnabas slipped away from his grasp and kneeled between his legs.
“Not if I still want you,” he said. “I intend to fuck you until the novelty wears off.”
“And if I say no?”
“You like this far too much to say no, Ambrose,” Barnabas chastised him. “You’ll come back for more of my cock.”
“We shall see, won’t we?” he said. Barnabas stopped and raised a brow as he looked at him. Ambrose just smiled enigmatically. Barnabas didn’t care for that look. It was yet another instance where the staid politician eluded his understanding. He distracted Barnabas by spreading his legs wide. “Access,” he said sarcastically. “Required, is it not?”
“Is that permission to enter?” Barnabas asked.
“Yes.”
Barnabas smiled. “When it matters, you can be quite succinct.”
He poured some oil in his hand and dipped his fingers into it. Reaching down, he rubbed them gently around Ambrose’s hole. He could see his stomach muscles tense up, along with his arse. “I know it seems impossible right now, but you must relax if this is to work properly. So take a deep breath and push it out, like this.” He demonstrated.
“What are you going to do?” Ambrose asked.
“I’m going to put my fingers inside of you,” Barnabas answered matter-of-factly. “That will relax the muscles here and stretch you a bit and allow me to fuck my cock into you in a few minutes.”
Ambrose’s muscles twitched, but his face remained impassive. “All right,” he said. He took in a deep breath and as he let it out Barnabas pressed one finger into him. He could see Ambrose fighting the urge to pull away. Instead he spread his legs more and forced himself to relax, his jaw tight.
“Why are you letting me do this?” Barnabas asked as he let several drops of oil fall from the bottle onto Ambrose’s skin. He was excited to the point of losing control at the sight of his finger buried in Ambrose Wetherald. Had he always desired this moment? Is that why he’d found the other man so irritating over the years? He was hoping some conversation would pull him back from the brink.
“To pay you back,” Ambrose said roughly. He sounded breathless.
“No, that’s not why,” Barnabas said.
“It isn’t?” Ambrose had his eyes closed, but his face was still an open book. Everything he was feeling was written there. “Mel, then?”
“So she told you to call her Mel, did she?” Barnabas asked. He was surprised. The two had seemed very far from an understanding when it came to their visits. Today must have gone well.
“She did. Why didn’t you?” Ambrose opened his eyes and pinned Barnabas with his gaze. Barnabas had never noticed how very blue his eyes were.
“I felt that it was her prerogative to do so.”
Ambrose let his eyes close again. “You’re right, of course.” Barnabas slid another finger in, and Ambrose groaned.
“You’re very tight,” Barnabas told him. “I’m trying to be gentle.”
“This is gentle?” Ambrose asked in alarm, his head coming up again.
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t treat it like a job,” Ambrose offered helpfully. “And go back to seducing me.”
“What?” Barnabas stopped moving his hand. “Is that what I’m doing?” When he’d first come up with this ridiculous scheme he’d thought to humiliate Wetherald by taking him fast and hard, forcing him to submit. But that wasn’t what this was at all. He wanted Ambrose as lost in the throes of passion as he was.
“Yes,” Ambrose said. “Lay back down and kiss me.” He licked his lips and Barnabas groaned.
“You don’t even know what you’re doing,” he said, “and you still have the power to make me want you.”
“Now, that is the sort of thing that makes it hurt less,” Ambrose said. He tugged on Barnabas’s arm. “I liked it when you were lying beside me, kissing me. Do it again.”
“Are you always this honest?” Barnabas asked as he lay down again. He didn’t take his fingers out. He didn’t want to lose any ground he’d gained.
“I try to be,” Ambrose said. “Sometimes it’s hard. But someone has to make the hard choices, don’t they?”
“I thought that was my job,” Barnabas said, nuzzling against Ambrose’s neck. “Bloody hell, you smell good.”
“Be quiet and kiss me,” Ambrose said. “How many times do I have to ask?”
It was enough. Barnabas lost himself in the heat of Ambrose’s kiss, and the tight confines of his arse.
* * *
When the kiss ended, Ambrose licked his lips as Barnabas slid on top of him. “Spread your legs and bend your knees,” Barnabas said softly, kissing along Ambrose’s jaw.
“Are you sure men do it this way?” Ambrose asked in confusion. “I thought they had to be one behind the other. This is how men and women do it.”
“Men can do it this way, too.” Barnabas said as he ran the tip of his nose along Ambrose’s collarbones. “I want to see your face while I’m fucking you.”
Ambrose started to tense up as he felt Barnabas’s cock seeking entrance. “It feels so strange,” he said nervously.
“In a few moments it will feel so wonderful,” Barnabas promised. “Please let me in,” he whispered against Ambrose’s mouth.
Instead of answering, Ambrose grabbed hold of his shoulders and kissed him while he forced his body to relax. Almost immediately he could feel Barnabas slip inside him. He gasped into Barnabas’s mouth.
“There’s more,” Barnabas whispered, his lips moving against Ambrose’s. “Hold tight.”
Ambrose felt him tense under his hands, and then he thrust his hips a little more forcefully and there was a sharp, stinging pain as he pushed deeper inside. Barnabas didn’t stop until his hips were pressed tightly against Ambrose’s hindquarters.
“Is that all of it?” Ambrose asked, disappointed. He’d expected a great deal more pleasure than this based on last night, and even the way Barnabas’s fingers had felt.
“It is,” Barnabas said. “I’m just going to stay right here for a few minutes and let you adjust.”
They lay there panting into each other’s mouths, chest to chest, Barnabas buried inside him. It was the most intimate thing Ambrose had ever experienced. He could feel his passion risin
g again at the feel of Barnabas on top of him, at the warmth of his overheated, sweat-damp skin under his shirt. Suddenly he wanted to be skin to skin.
“Take this off,” he said, pulling at the back of Barnabas’s shirt. Barnabas moved slightly and let Ambrose pull it off over his head and then lifted one arm and at a time so he could take it completely off. “You are very fit,” he said, running his hands down Barnabas’s arms. The muscles were straining in his upper arms as he held himself over Ambrose.
“The better to stay alive,” Barnabas said, and Ambrose felt a shiver of apprehension. He hadn’t thought much about the dangers of Barnabas’s job before they’d become intimate. “Come now, fair play,” Barnabas said. “Let’s get your clothes off.”
It was easier said than done since Barnabas refused to pull out of him. But the squirming and straining to pull them off set off little fires in Ambrose that began where they were joined. He was panting with exertion and desire when they were done. He was partially sitting up, Barnabas on his knees between his legs, and Ambrose grabbed Barnabas’s sides and pressed his forehead to Barnabas’s chest.
“Something is happening,” he said breathlessly.
“Yes, it is,” Barnabas agreed. “This is where the pleasure begins.” He lowered Ambrose back down to the bed and adjusted himself between his legs. Ambrose gasped at the exquisite feeling that shot up his spine. “So responsive,” Barnabas murmured, kissing the side of his mouth delicately. “You are going to be a joy to fuck, Ambrose.”
Ambrose couldn’t respond. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew that what had transpired the night before between them, while pleasurable, was going to pale in comparison to this experience. When Barnabas began to move above him, thrusting his cock in and out, Ambrose gave a broken cry of ecstasy. He clutched Barnabas to him, the feel of their chests and stomachs rubbing together as they fucked, Ambrose’s cock caught between them, adding fuel to a fire already burning out of control.
There was no more teasing between them, no more questions. Just something elemental and primal. There was very little tenderness and Ambrose didn’t want it. He wanted this rough love, this aggressive bonding that made his blood pound in time with the motion of Barnabas’s hips against him. The slap of flesh on flesh was a symphony of desire and Ambrose nearly cried at how perfect it was, how alive he felt.
For Love and Country (Brothers in Arms Book 13) Page 13
