‘Permission first.’
Lyle drew in a long breath through his nose. His tongue briefly wetted his lower lip. ‘What do you need?’
‘Everything.’
‘You’ll never get close.’
‘Then there’s no problem.’
Several bated breaths passed between them. Heat flooded Lyle’s hazel eyes. He nuzzled Darleston’s shoulder, ran a finger around the collar of his shirt, and then quick fingers made light work of loosening the knot of his necktie. ‘As you will, Robert. And as I will.’ He struck, targeting the soft, exposed skin of Darleston’s neck right over the pulse point. ‘You know you marked me last night. It seems only right I return the favour.’
‘You were begging to be claimed. I on the other hand am hedging my bets.’
‘Darleston, if you mention my wife again, I may actually throttle you.’ Lyle’s fingers stroked the skin his lips had just met. Hot tremors rippled through Darleston’s body. Necks were sensitive. He knew that, he’d seduced several past lovers in that way, but he’d never counted on his own neck being quite so riddled with nerve-endings. He barely moved, unable to focus until Lyle’s kiss reached his lips and then they sank into one another’s arms, sprawled along the length of the fallen elm.
When Emma had first drawn his attention to the inscriptions carved into the bark of the fallen tree, a crude and impossibly tempting vision of Lyle lying bound and prone with a gag in his mouth and his bottom bared had swamped Darleston’s thoughts. Now he saw their positions reversed, Lyle above him, taking charge of things.
Could they do this here? They’d be taking a huge risk. But who else would come out here? All the other guests had gone with Hill to meet Jack Johnstone at one of the outlying cottages. Only Emma remained, and she’d already flown. Having observed the bone-deep fear in her face, he couldn’t envisage her returning.
He worked his hands inside Lyle’s clothing, and then sucked in a breath when Lyle did the same and found the swell of his cock. ‘Fellatio is fun,’ Lyle muttered, while working his way down Darleston’s body, kissing his chest and the pale skin of his stomach that he exposed en route, ‘but what I really need is a nice long fuck. I need to feel you around me, accepting me. I need to make this real between us, not just play acting. I want to know you’re committed to this. I can’t deal with you blowing hot and cold, whether it’s a tease or not.’
Darleston steadied himself a moment. What Lyle was proposing was different to how it had been between them in the past. He’d always been the indorser, Lyle the nancy. And yet … ‘Is that what you really want?’
‘Robert, you don’t need me to answer that. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve got hard just thinking about it.’ Desire made Lyle’s voice husky.
‘Then do it.’ Butterflies filled his stomach at the instruction. Lyle remained tensely poised, as if he couldn’t quite credit the reality of the invitation. Darleston gave him a wicked grin. Wits and senses be damned. He hadn’t earned a reputation as libertine by acting in a respectable manner, or by waiting around for somebody else to make the definitive move. He curled his fingers into the hair at the back of Lyle’s neck and pulled him hard against him.
They fitted together like the two parts of a puzzle, as if they were meant to be together. It made sense. He’d once loved this man. Nay – that love had never died, circumstances had simply torn them apart and then it had been easier to deny his feelings than to live with them. He’d acted in exactly the same way over Giles.
Darleston nipped lightly at Lyle’s bottom lip, teased him with the promise of a deep kiss but stayed just out of reach until Lyle’s breath became fast and flighty. Only then did he deliver on the promise. As it had been the night before, the kiss left him feverish and uncomfortably hard. Unlike last night, he didn’t allow Lyle to take charge. Having tossed aside his hat and stripped the coat from Lyle’s back, Darleston jammed their hips together while simultaneously enjoying a good feel of Lyle’s bottom. Firm muscle filled his palm. The robust swell of Lyle’s cock branded his abdomen, promising … well, promising exactly what he damn well needed.
It didn’t matter if this lasted a week, for the summer or the rest of his life. He no longer wanted to deny the pull he felt. Instead, he committed to it. No turning back.
‘Swive me,’ he purred.
‘With pleasure.’ Lyle’s breath warmed his ear. His lips traced the lobe and descended again to his jawline.
Darleston pushed his hand inside Lyle’s breeches and took pleasure in the feel of Lyle’s erection filling his hand. This was what they both needed. It was a beginning and an end. They’d never properly said goodbye. This was a welcoming hello.
‘Trust me.’ Lyle winked as his fingers began to explore beyond the swell of Darleston’s shaft. ‘I learned a trick or two from that vadelect. All you need do a while is relax and enjoy.’ He made swift work of the remaining fastenings and dragged Darleston’s breeches down to where his boots prevented any further descent. Then, having first pressed a kiss to each inner thigh, he bestowed a series of ecstasy-inducing licks to the very eye of Darleston’s cock.
Darleston lay on his back and stared at the blue sky and swaying bowers. Birdsong filled his ears. Prior to Lyle, the last person to go down on him like this had been Lucy. He might hate his wife, but he’d made a fine job of teaching her how to suck. Yet Lyle breathed fire into his veins in a far more endearing fashion, seeking out tender spots so that the ache in his balls grew almost unbearable. His hips began to roll of their own accord. Fingers gripped him tight. They coaxed his legs further apart, traced circles over his bottom, urged him to lift up and turn over.
As he rolled onto his front, Darleston eyed the long slim wand that was Lyle’s cock. It had been too long since he’d allowed himself this pleasure. Butterflies began to riot in his stomach as he positioned himself over the trunk as he’d imagined seeing Lyle. He’d needed, had wanted a good pricking for so long, but circumstances had conspired against him and he hadn’t wanted a whore. He’d wanted someone with whom he had a bond.
Lyle’s hands settled upon his bottom, the touch so light it raised hairs all over his body. The sensation bordered on ticklish and made him realise just how few really good times he’d had playing the bottom role. No man had ever really touched him like this. Past encounters had been swift and frantic – seedy; something done in the dark, without an exchange of names or meaningful emotions. This was broad daylight, out-of-doors and luxuriously tentative.
Lyle touched him as though he meant to imprint a memory of himself upon the skin. When his thumb brushed the sensitive whorl of Darleston’s anus, he nearly shot up off the bark, it set so many nerves alight.
Dear God – that was only the trace of one finger.
Conflicting messages crowded his pleasure centres. Things became even more muddled, even rapturous, when Lyle bent and set his mouth to work where his fingers had strayed.
Darleston’s eyes drooped closed. He’d definitely never been kissed so intimately before. Within moments his blood ran so hot he swore brandy fumes had replaced his blood.
‘You really want this, don’t you?’ A whisper of hot breath assailed his ear. The tip of Lyle’s very cheeky tongue wriggled into another sensitive place. ‘Tell me how much you want it, Robert. Tell me what you’re feeling right now. Having regrets? Any final wishes?’
‘Let me feel you.’
‘Like this?’ Lyle’s form moulded itself to the curve of Darleston’s back. Loins pressed fast to willing flesh. Why was it that the sensation of a cock poised within the channel of his arse was in some ways more enthralling than the act to which it led? ‘Think you’re relaxed enough yet? Think I’ll slide in without a hint of resistance?’
He wasn’t sure about no resistance, but teasingly close wasn’t anywhere near close enough.
His