Description
Lord Egerton chewed on his bottom lip. He knew of Hale’s cruel reputation. The ruffian had destroyed many young men’s lives. In truth, at one time, Lord John himself had fallen under his cruel whip. How large could the gambling debt be to evoke such blackmail from Hale, surely not more than the weekly rent from Egerton’s tenants? In fact, he could offer Hale a substantial sum to tear up the wagers and deliver Henry into his hands. With a sigh, he removed his hat and cloak and placed them on a chair. He would have to think on the problem.
Inhaling the familiar fragrance of his friend, he smiled ruefully. He had always enjoyed a casual relationship with John, but Henry stirred his blood like no other. However, at this moment, Lord John’s gaze held an invitation he could not refuse. Turning to his friend, he pulled at the ribbon securing John’s hair and then ran his fingers though the thick auburn locks.
“I’ve missed you, John.” He lowered his mouth and dragged him into a possessive kiss.
Christ, he tastes so damn good. Their tongues tangled in a delicious dance. Egerton’s hands found and cupped Lord John’s small, rounded buttocks. He dragged him closer to grind his cock against his friend’s prominent erection. Under his lips, John moaned and kissed him back. Egerton chuckled against his lover’s mouth. He pulled the shirt from John’s breeches and found his flesh hot and smooth under his fingers. “I want to touch you.”
Breathless they clawed at each other’s clothes. Buttons hit the floor and scattered. Naked, they stared at each other for a few seconds. Egerton took in the pale skin of the man before him, a stark contrast to the heavy, purple cock jutting out from a mass of red curls. He lifted his gaze to his flushed face. Lord John’s blue eyes had turned black with passion. Egerton waved a hand toward the table and smiled.
“Is it your wish I fuck you here, in the office?”
“Come, I have prepared a room, more suitable to our requirements.” Lord John collected the discarded clothes and then opened an adjoining door. “I have dreamed of you in this room with me, Egerton.”
Glancing around the room, Lord Egerton smiled. The four-poster bed had ropes secured to each end. Birch canes rested against the wall. You have been expecting me, Johnny. His gaze travelled to a dressing table with a copper phallus, a small glass bottle containing oil, a water pitcher and washbasin beside the only window. He lifted the bottle to his nose and inhaled the fragrance of the thick rose-scented liquid before returning it to the table. He turned around slowly. The air in the room carried a hint of sandalwood. Spartan but functional. Two, large, wing-backed chairs graced each side of the fireplace, and against the wall, sat a small table with folded linens. This apart from the bed was the only furniture in the sparsely, decorated room. He turned to face Lord John.
“On the bed, get on your knees, Johnny. Put your hands above your head, spread your knees nice and wide. Yes, like that, good boy.”
