Page 49 of Beguiled

“So. Here we are again,” David said. Despite the serious tone of their conversation, a smile tugged at his lips. He felt like there was laughter inside him, just waiting to escape. He knew, without the benefit of a looking glass, that he looked happy—he saw his elation reflected on Murdo’s face, in the curving smile that mirrored his own.

“Shall we go inside?” Murdo asked, one eyebrow raised.

David grinned, and then they were dashing up the steps together like boys, practically bowling over the footman who opened the glossy door.

Murdo briefly assumed a more sober expression in front of his servant, issuing a few brief orders as they handed off their outer garments—primarily that no one should intrude upon their privacy without being called for—and then they were mounting the stairs to Murdo’s chambers.

They maintained their composure right up to the door of Murdo’s sitting room, but the moment they stepped inside and the door closed behind them, they came together in a hard embrace, their mouths fusing in a deep, hot kiss.

“Ah, Christ but I need this—” Murdo gasped when they broke apart. He pressed his mouth to David’s throat, his hands working to strip away David’s cravat and expose the tender flesh beneath. The scrape of his roughened cheek and the sharp nip of his teeth made David hunch a shoulder in startled pleasure, a prickle of gooseflesh rising up the back of his neck.

David’s cock felt as hard as a hammer, his balls tight and aching. A twitchy desire for Murdo to touch his arse consumed him, shaming him even as he yearned. Over the last few nights, he’d fallen asleep reliving what it felt like to have Murdo’s mouth teasing the entrance to his body, the terrifying, wonderful feeling of Murdo’s fingers penetrating him.

Just the thought of that now, right at the moment that Murdo nipped his throat again, made David groan and circle his hips against Murdo’s, their clothed cocks brushing as he did so.

“What do you want?” David breathed against Murdo’s ear. “Tell me.”

Tell me you want to fuck me.

“I hardly know,” Murdo murmured against David’s skin. “Everything. You. I can’t get enough of you.”

David shifted, frustrated, unwilling to ask for what he wanted even as he craved it.

Murdo raised his head, perhaps sensing David’s turmoil. He looked down at David with an unreadable expression for what felt like the longest moment, and David stared back, trying to interpret his look, willing him to speak.

At last Murdo said, startling him, “Is it that you want to fuckme? We’ve never spoken about that possibility, have we? I admit, I’ve avoided the subject.”

David just stared at him, astonished into silence. In truth, he’d never considered that possibility, and now he found himself wondering why.

“I don’t know,” he said at last, adding after a pause, “Why? Would you let me?”

Murdo was silent for a long moment. “I’d be willing to try.” His voice was calm, but a muscle leapt in his cheek, a betraying tic. “The truth is, I’ve not allowed anyone to do that to me for a long time. Not since that first time I told you about. The thought of letting anyone—” He gave an awkward laugh in lieu of finishing the sentence, then added, “But I’d try—for you.”

David felt the oddest easing inside his chest, a ligature being loosened, a constriction he hadn’t even known was there, giving way. He raised a hand and stroked the cheek where that tic had leapt.

“I don’t think we should do that tonight,” he said. “The truth is, I wouldn’t have the first idea what to do. We should do it the other way first, I think.”

“The other way?”

“You fucking me. At least you know what to do.” David tried to look nonchalant, but he knew that the heat he felt creeping into his cheeks had to be turning his pale skin scarlet.

Murdo was silent for a long moment. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want you to feel pushed into it.”

“I don’t. I want it. I want you.”

Murdo’s dark gaze searched his own, as though checking for uncertainty. “All right. I’ll do everything I can to make it good.”

“I know.”

I know you’ll try.

“Come on, then. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly, in my bed.”

Murdo took David’s hand and towed him into the bedchamber, leaving him stranded in the middle of the room for a moment while he lit a branch of candles off the fire. After placing the candles on the mantelpiece, he turned his attention to the big bed, stripping the silken bedcovers entirely away to reveal the bone-white linen sheets below, a stark field for their play. Then he returned to face David and pulled him into another deep kiss.