Authors: Ava March

My True Love Gave to Me (8 page)

Each slow sweep of Thomas’s palms down his back, over the curve of his arse, fingertips dipping in to graze the crease, made him feel cherished, treasured, wrapped in love. Lips trailed over Alexander’s jaw, down his chest and abdomen as Thomas dropped to his knees. The man pressed his cheek to Alexander’s lower belly. White-shirted arms came around his upper thighs, held him tight.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Thomas whispered hoarsely, hot breath tickling his skin.

Alexander’s heart slammed against his ribs at the raw honesty in Thomas’s voice. “I’ve missed you, too. More than you could possibly imagine.” The years had been so lonely, so empty without Thomas. He’d had his friends, but not even the whole lot of them could take the place of the first and only man he had ever loved.

Thomas nuzzled Alexander’s belly, then he pulled back, took hold of Alexander’s cock and flicked his tongue over the head, lapping up the droplet of fluid.

Lust raced down Alexander’s spine, drawing his ballocks up tight. That tongue darted out again and again, lavishing the crown with attention, until his skin glistened with moisture. Then he finally opened his mouth wide, took him inside.

Alexander threaded his fingers into the soft, chestnut strands of Thomas’s short hair. He tried to savor Thomas’s mouth on his prick. Tried not to push into each plunging stroke. But it was
Thomas’s
mouth on his prick.
His
firm lips sliding up and down his length.
His
tongue finding the most sensitive spot under the crown.

He tugged on Thomas’s hair. “No more. I want… I—I want you inside me. Can’t wait another moment.”

In a long, slow, luscious drag that threatened to pull the orgasm from Alexander, Thomas pulled free. One final flick of his tongue over the small slit in the head, and he got to his feet.

Alexander yanked on the placket of Thomas’s trousers, tugged on the string of his drawers, shoved the garments down the man’s hips. Lifting up onto his toes, he slanted his lips across Thomas’s. Sucking on Thomas’s tongue, he closed his hand around his lover’s cock.

Thomas gasped into Alexander’s mouth.

“The bed,” Alexander urged, stroking the length, the skin soft and smooth and backed by iron. “
Please,
Thomas.”

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, the soft mattress beneath him. Thomas shifted, coming up onto his knees above Alexander. In one quick motion, he whisked his shirt over his head, revealing the impossibly broad expanse of his chest, then he dropped down onto his elbows. Alexander pulled those wet, reddened lips down to his. Thomas’s tongue met his, urgent and demanding. His knees came up to bracket Thomas’s waist. Nothing had ever felt so absolutely right in all his life than to have the heavy weight of Thomas’s body covering his.

He swept his hands along the strong line of Thomas’s spine, to the sleek curve of his lower back, and held on tight. Muscles bunched and flexed beneath his hands as Thomas moved against him in an unmistakable rhythm. His hips bumping against Alexander, his cock rubbing along Alexander’s spit-slicked length, blazing hot skin sliding against his bare skin, Thomas’s mouth devouring his, ratcheting the lust and passion pounding through Alexander’s veins to unbelievable heights.

But that wonderful weight left him as Thomas pulled back. Panting hard, he glanced to his right and left, then stared down at Alexander. “I…ah… Do you have…?”

He understood at once what Thomas could not quite ask. “Yes. Bedside table. Second drawer.” He tipped his head to his right.

Thomas nodded and reached into the drawer, retrieving the glass bottle of oil. After quickly slicking his cock, he leaned right again, as if to put the bottle back, yet paused. With a small shake of his head, he instead opened the bottle again, poured a generous amount on to his fingers.

Oiled fingers probed behind Alexander’s ballocks. One finger eased inside him, slow and gentle, tentative.

Grabbing hold of Thomas’s broad shoulders, he pulled his knees to his chest, fully exposing himself to Thomas. “Yes. More.” Another digit joined the first. “Yes, yes.” The words tumbled from his mouth.

Thomas’s hair stuck up at odd angles, disheveled from Alexander’s greedy hands. Lips slightly parted, lashes lowered, his gaze was locked between Alexander’s legs as he prepared him with slow strokes. “You’re so tight, Sasha,” he murmured, filled with awed wonder. “So hot.”

Alexander arched up, wanting more. Needing more. Pleasure coursed through him as Thomas stroked deeper. A climax began to gather low in his belly, sensation tightening ever tighter. “Enough. I’m ready.
Please.
”

Those fingers left him. Thomas leaned down, bracing himself on one arm above him. Yet Thomas paused once again. A little furrow creased his brow. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

“You won’t.”

The head of his cock grazed Alexander’s entrance. A wicked, light tease. Needing so much more than just that tease, he tried to tug Thomas closer, but the man refused to budge. Beyond desperate, he tried another tactic. He pushed. “Sit back on your knees.”

Amazingly, Thomas complied.

Alexander quickly scrambled up to straddle Thomas’s lap. “Hold your cock steady.”

Hands braced on Thomas’s shoulders, he lowered. The head slid along his crease. He adjusted the angle of his hips and pushed down.

A moan rumbled his throat as the crown breached his entrance, stretching him wide. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, to push back the climax. Once he was assured he wouldn’t come all over Thomas’s stomach—at least not yet—he lifted up a tiny bit and then lowered all the way down, until he was impaled on the full length of Thomas’s thick cock.

“See,” he managed to get out between heavy breaths, “you didn’t hurt me at all.”

He slowly pulled up and then sank back down. A long, slow drag that lit up every nerve in his body.

“Oh,
bloody hell.
”

A curse from Thomas Bennett’s lips? Curious as to what other curses he could pull from Thomas, Alexander rotated his hips, tightening his inner muscles and grinding against him.

A full body tremor shook Thomas. His eyes widened.
“Fuck!”

“Exactly,” he said, not bothering to hide the smug tone. He repeated the motion.

The large hands that had moved to hold Alexander’s arse tightened, stilling him. “You’re wicked,” Thomas gasped.

Leaning closer until the hard wall of Thomas’s chest met his own, Alexander wrapped his arms around Thomas’s neck. “And I’m all yours.”

Thomas’s growl was lost in their kiss. Thrusting up, he guided Alexander’s hips in counterpoint, picking up a luxurious rhythm that robbed Alexander of all rational sense. With each stroke, he swore Thomas pushed even deeper within him. Pleasure soaked his senses, so intense and so potent. A strength, a purity he had only felt with Thomas.

The soft hair on Thomas’s chest rubbed against his as they moved together toward completion. He pressed even closer, trapping his leaking prick between their bodies, desperate for the friction.

He felt Thomas’s muscles draw tight, his chest heaving with each heavy breath, his skin beading with sweat.

“I’ve never…” Thomas gasped against his lips. “Not with another. Only with you, Sasha. Forever only you.”

The confession was Alexander’s undoing. A climax slammed through him, drenching his senses in absolute bliss. He slanted his mouth harshly over Thomas’s as seed shot from his cock, slicking Thomas’s abdomen. Thomas thrust up, hard. His hands gripped Alexander’s arse hard enough to leave bruises. A feral groan shook Thomas as he came, buried hilt-deep within Alexander.

Resting his forehead against Thomas’s shoulder, Alexander sagged against him, boneless and drained. Thomas wrapped his arms around his back to hold him in the most comforting embrace.

They stayed that way for many long moments. If Alexander had his wish, they would have stayed locked together all night. But then Thomas gathered Alexander in his arms and gently laid him back on the bed. The mattress shook as Thomas stretched out beside him. For the first time in his life, Alexander snuggled up to a man’s side in bed. He wanted every bit of intimacy he could have with Thomas. Everything the man could give him.

Heat poured off Thomas’s body, warming him more effectively than a blazing hot fire. The soft comb of Thomas’s fingers through his hair lulled his senses. His eyes began to drift shut.

“What time do your servants arrive in the morning?”

“Around eight.”

“I should leave before then.”

“You don’t need to. The guest bedchamber is down the corridor. Just slip in there before dawn and no one will be the wiser. My cook makes delicious kippers and eggs,” he added, lifting his head to look at Thomas. His servants would not be surprised to find a guest in the house, though he decided it best to keep that to himself. In any case, from here on out, the only guest who spent the night under his roof would be Thomas.

“If the invitation includes breakfast…” Thomas said, with a teasing, sated smile. “I’d be more than happy to stay.”

The thought of breakfast turned his mind to his dinner plans for the morrow, or rather lack thereof. “Does your family expect you for dinner tomorrow evening?”

Thomas shrugged. His fingers drifted down to Alexander’s back to trace the line of his spine. A light, teasing touch that made Alexander’s toes curl.

“I expect they’re planning a meal, but they have not mentioned it. Haven’t been by the house in over a week.”

“Will you have dinner with me? It won’t be a grand affair. Just the two of us at the table, and I doubt my cook can work wonders on short notice. So don’t expect a dozen courses. But I’d like to have Christmas dinner with you.” He wanted to replace the old memories that had cast a pallor over the holiday season with a new one. One that included the man who loved him in return.

“Yes,” Thomas said with a smile. “I would like that above all things.”

Happiness rushed through him, light and bright and absolutely perfect. Alexander shifted up, until he was fully draped across Thomas’s chest, thighs bracketing his lover’s waist. He was surely grinning like a fool, but he did not care in the slightest. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Thomas whispered an instant before he claimed Alexander’s lips in a kiss that held far more than the promise of forever.

About the Author

Ava March is an author of smoking-hot M/M historical erotic romances. She loves writing in the Regency time period, where proper decorum is of the utmost importance, but where anything can happen behind closed doors.

Baby, it’s cold outside…

A man receives the gift of pleasure at the hands of two expert lovers. Boyhood sweethearts get a second chance at romance. Two very proper gentlemen indulge their forbidden desires. A Christmas tree farmer has an epiphany. It may be cold outside, but these four holiday novellas will warm you up. Anthology includes:

My True Love Gave to Me
by Ava March