Page 78 of A Gathering Storm
“Very good, sir. Shall I bring it to you in the—”
“Just bring me the bottle,” Ward interrupted. “We’ll take it up with us.”
Pipp gave an uncharacteristic grin and hurried off. Minutes later, they were climbing the stairs, Ward carrying two empty snifters in one hand and a bottle of French brandy in the other.
Since Ward’s hands were full, Nicholas opened the bedchamber door, holding it so Ward preceded him.
A gas lamp on the table in the corner gave off low, gentle light, and a well-banked fire glowed in the grate. Everything was warm and welcoming and cosy. Ward set down the glasses and bottle on the table and turned.
Nicholas was leaning against the closed door, his black hair wet and slicked back from his brow, his silver eyes startling as ever. The very space between them seemed to pulse, as though all the longing of the past weeks had built up like so much electrical charge.
In the end, it was Nicholas who moved first, crossing the floor in a few quick strides and pulling Ward into his arms, pressing a line of small desperate kisses along Ward’s jaw till Ward turned his head with an inarticulate sound and their lips finally met.
Nicholas’s tongue speared into his mouth, Nicholas’s hands firm on his hips as he yanked him even closer. The noise that tore from Ward was part groan, part sob. Their tongues tangled, bristled chins scraping together, and it was so sweet and good.
Nicholas began to efficiently strip Ward of all his wet clothes, his hands working quickly to remove and discard each garment till they were surrounded by damp heaps of cloth. He gazed on each new area of exposed skin with possessive, burning eyes, sliding his hands reverently over Ward’s sensitive skin.
“My handsome lad,” he whispered. “My comely boy.”
Ward whimpered.
Once Ward was fully naked, Nicholas quickly stripped his own things off before stepping forward again to run his hands up Ward’s sides and over his chest. He brushed his palms over Ward’s nipples, then returned to pinch them lightly, sweetly, between thumbs and forefingers, making Ward gasp at the sharp, biting sensation, each tiny painful twist making Ward’s cock stiffen and leak. He arched his chest towards Nicholas in encouragement, baring his throat submissively, and Nicholas chuckled, bending his head to press a row of suckling kisses along Ward’s collarbone, then up his throat, and all the way to his ear.
“You like that?” he said softly when he got there, his breath warm and damp, making Ward shiver helplessly.
“God, yes,” Ward groaned. “More, please.”
Nicholas chuckled again. “So demanding,” he murmured, lips brushing the delicate curl of Ward’s outer ear, before his teeth nipped lightly at the fleshy lobe and his tongue snaked briefly inside.
Ward shivered at that too, hunching a shoulder and giving a gasping laugh, his cock straining towards his belly. He liked this very much indeed, this—being mastered. He liked that Nicholas was making all the decisions and all Ward had to do was react.
Nicholas took his hand and tugged, pulling him towards the bed. “Lie down. I want to give you pleasure.”
“But I want to give you pleasure too,” Ward protested, even as he obeyed, the sheets cool and clean beneath his naked body.
Nicholas smiled. “We’ll pleasure each other,” he promised, and as he positioned himself beside Ward, Ward began to see what he had in mind.
Ward turned on to his side mere moments after Nicholas did, reaching for the man’s cock a scant second later. As his own cock was drawn into the wet, perfect heat of Nicholas’s mouth, he drove his lips down Nicholas’s shaft, filling himself with Nicholas’s flesh and inhaling his heady scent. And then it was a messy blur of mixed-up sensations. The insistent, unbearably good penetration of demanding flesh, pressing right into his throat till he felt dizzy with it and drool leaked from his mouth. The hot sucking grasp of Nicholas’s mouth on his own cock, drawing him in. The snaking swirl of that agile tongue against Ward’s sensitive shaft.
Ward’s mind battled to reconcile these competing sensations, the push and the pull, one part of him opening to receive even as another demanded entry. It was all his mind could do to just keep up with those twin experiences—what he was doing and what was being done to him. It felt as though his attention were jumping around like a grasshopper.
As his impending climax intensified, it became more and more difficult to concentrate on Nicholas. He gasped, losing his rhythm, and Nicholas’s shaft drew free of his mouth. Nicholas didn’t allow him even a moment to recover. He pressed in closer, moaning around Ward’s cock as he took him impossibly deeper, letting Ward push forward one last impossible fraction till the head of his cock bumped against the back of Nicholas’s throat.
And God, but that did it. Ward grasped the back of Nicholas’s thigh and erupted into his mouth with a harsh groan. His climax came in hot, helpless pulses, and Nicholas’s throat closed as he tried to swallow it all.
Ward drew back, strangely, possessively, needing to see. When he saw Nicholas’s face—his lips swollen and decorated with traces of Ward’s spend—a very primal satisfaction filled him. He reached out, brushing his thumb over Nicholas’s lips to collect the pearly remains before sucking his thumb clean.
Nicholas groaned. “Ward—”
“Your turn,” Ward whispered. “Lie on your back and spread your legs.”
Nicholas obeyed, his silver eyes hot as molten metal as he watched Ward shuffle into the space between Nicholas’s legs, on his knees.
“Take hold of your cock,” Ward said, sliding down to lie flat on the mattress. He grinned. “Show me how you please yourself when you’re alone.”
Nicholas let out a shaky laugh at that, but again he obeyed, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he circled his fingers round his hard shaft and began to stroke. He watched avidly as Ward stretched forward just a little further and, slowly, tenderly . . . kissed his balls.
“Oh Christ,” Nicholas breathed. “Ward—”