by Lee Rowan
When he finally positioned himself and slid inside, he was near to bursting, and the tight, slick heat of Davy closing around him drove him mad with passion. He slid all the way in, and Davy squeezed, and he threw himself against his lover, letting the cot swing wildly. “Buggery boxes” he’d heard these cots called, and justly so. They put things at a perfect level.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, leaning into Davy, letting the swing of the cot do most of the work. Their earlier tryst made a difference; it had reduced the urgency, given him time to enjoy this sweet friction as their bodies danced together. He looked down, met Davy’s eyes, and it felt as though their very souls were joined as deeply as their bodies. “I love you, Davy. Love you, love you….” How very strange, to have his thoughts so free while their bodies were slamming together like two parts of a pile-driver. “Love you….”
“Will….” Davy was flushed, lips reddened, sweat beading his beautiful face. He caught Marshall’s wrists. “Harder, Will. Please….”
But he couldn’t manage harder. The cot was a delightful platform, but even leaning forward, he couldn’t use his whole weight.
“The floor, damn it!” Davy gasped. “Put me on the floor!” Halfway up, his nails dug into Marshall’s arse. “Harder. Please!”
The temptation was irresistible. Marshall snatched at the mattress from his own cot, yanked it onto the floor, and dragged both Davy and the other mattress out of the other cot. He was barely able to break the fall as he bore his lover down to the deck, stifling his own cry as they both made contact and the impact drove him deeper in. Davy’s legs wrapped around the small of his back and they rocked together like mad things, his own breath coming in short gasps as Davy’s teeth closed on his shoulder, a sharp pinch that sent a jolt through to his cock—
“Love you love you love you love you….” He was sobbing, wheezing, and then riveted in a shattering climax that seemed to set off Davy’s own. He felt the warm spurt against his belly as he cried out against Davy’s neck.
It took a little while to get his senses back. He rolled to his side, cuddling his lover close. A sense of warmth and happiness seeped through him, like hot soup or strong drink, and better than either. He was naked, gloriously naked, without rank or dignity or fear, and at least for the moment, he knew what was truly important.
“I love you,” he said once more, brushing the hair out of Davy’s beautiful blue eyes. “Davy, I love you.”
“Yes,” Davy said, eyes shining. “So long as we both shall live.”
The phrase was familiar and right, though he had never expected to hear it regarding himself and anyone else, much less another man. But Davy voiced what was in both their hearts.
“Yes,” he agreed. “For better or worse.”
Davy laughed ruefully. “I think we’ve seen both, now. Kiss me?”
He did. But it was December, and it was cold. Before long, they were cuddling for warmth more than anything, and Will reached up to snag a blanket. “We’d best go to bed,” he said, regretfully.
“Pull down all the blankets,” Davy advised. “We’re fine as we are.”
He did; it was going to take all the blankets to keep off the chill. “But the men—”
“I spoke to Barrow,” Davy said. “We have until morning, Will. It isn’t much of a Christmas present… but we can sleep together tonight, if you like. All night long, together.”
The joy was sharp as a knife; he could not stop the tears. Davy held him tight, and kissed him, and pulled the blanket close.
“Merry Christmas, love.”
About the Author
LEE ROWAN has been writing since childhood, but professionally only since spring of 2006, with the publication of her Eppie-winning novel, Ransom. She is a lady of a certain age, old enough to know better but still young enough to do it anyway. A confirmed bookaholic with a wife of many years, she is kept in line by a cadre of cats and two dogs who get her away from the computer and out of the house at least once a day.
Don’t miss what happens next in
Sequel to Winds of Change and Eye of the Storm
Royal Navy Series: Book Three
The Royal Navy meets the Stately English Manor Murder Mystery, and if it were only a matter of Colonel Mustard in the library, things would be so much easier.
After an ambush by the French while on a routine surveillance mission, Will Marshall and David Archer are advised to retreat to the English countryside to avoid Bonaparte's animosity for a time. Upon their arrival, they discover that David's eldest brother has died after a mysterious accident and this puts his other, very unsuitable brother in line for the title. David's suspicions—that the new heir had a hand in his brother’s death—seem so unreasonable that even Will finds it difficult to believe his fears are valid. If Davy thought his lover was hard to convince, his autocratic father, who still sees him as the inept youngest son, won’t even listen to him. Davy and Will are thrust into the role of sleuths, trying to determine the truth behind the mystery.
All the while Will has concerns of his own: his fear of losing Davy is still stronger than his desire to keep Davy beside him on the quarterdeck… but he knows no other life than the Navy.
See how it all began
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