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He ground his hips against Bentley’s, and the man let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall as their cocks lined up perfectly.

Sam grazed his teeth over the soft skin of Bentley’s neck, and the man’s breath hitched.

Sam’s cock pulsed. Fuck, he was way too close to the edge, and they hadn’t even shed their trousers yet.

Too much anticipation. Two years of fantasizing about this man, of hate and lust combining into a desire too potent for him to handle.

“What do you want?” he murmured against Bentley’s ear.

“I don’t care.” His breaths came short and sharp. “Anything.”

“Besides me fucking you, you mean?”

The man’s amber eyes clashed with Sam’s, their heated breaths mingling. Bentley narrowed his gaze. “Besides that.”

Sam chuckled at the bite in Bentley’s tone. “That works out well, anyway. At this point, a light breeze would be enough to push me over the edge. Can’t have you thinking I’m a bad shag. Drop your trousers.”

Sam made quick work of losing his and stepped over to the dressing table. He grabbed the bottle of oil and poured a generous amount into his palm. He inhaled, drawing in that sweet-nutty aroma. He looked over his shoulder and couldn’t prevent the grin from swallowing his face.

“Enjoying the view?”

Lord Bentley’s gaze flicked up from where it had previously been locked on Sam’s arse. He grunted, but that was all the response he gave Sam.

“You sure do know how to make a man feel special,” Sam teased.

“Why would I need to do that when you do it so well yourself?”

Sam’s brows shot up. He walked the few steps back over to Bentley, rubbing the oil between his palms. “Is that cheek I detect, my lord?”

Bentley shrugged a shoulder, doing his damnedest to look bored.

So, Sam gave the man a little show and dropped a hand to his aching shaft, giving it one slow, torturous stroke.

Sam’s hiss of relief filled the chamber, quickly followed by Bentley’s soft whimper.

Bentley’s hungry gaze followed Sam’s hand, features tightening painfully.

His fingertips dug into the wall behind him, like he was actively preventing himself from reaching for Sam.

It was going to be glorious to witness this man come undone.

Sam’s stare settled on Lord Bentley’s hips. Shite. Sam could barely manage a swallow. The man’s cock was nearly as pretty as the man himself. Long, thick, but not too thick, angry and jutting out like it was calling for Sam.

Lust pooled in Sam’s groin. God, he ached . He needed to feel this man’s heated skin, cock rutting against his. But he wasn’t done with his torture. The man needed to suffer a bit. Sam wanted the man panting, begging.

“I have a nice cock, don’t I?” Sam asked, his grin spilling into his tone.

He took a step closer, his hip brushing against Bentley’s cock, the weeping tip slipping against Sam’s skin.

A ripple stole over those delicious, defined stomach muscles.

“I know how to use it, too,” Sam whispered, bringing their hips together and lining up their cocks.

Bentley sucked in a breath, his hands flying to Sam’s hips. Their gazes clashed, and deep in those amber depths was that emotion again. Trepidation. And something else, something that looked like it was pulling him away from Sam. Pulling him away right before Sam’s eyes.

Sam held still, even though his body screamed and raged at him to do otherwise. He knew Bentley wanted this. He needed to distract the man from whatever was going on behind those amber irises, whatever was whispering warnings in the man’s mind.

He leaned forward, lips hovering over the shell of Bentley’s ear. “Not to be presumptuous, but I’ve been told I inspire a certain reverence in bed,” he teased. “Men calling me their God. Just thought I should warn you.”

“Bloody hell,” Bentley grumbled, but he relaxed slightly against Sam. “Is there a way to turn you off? A lever or something I can pull.”

Sam sniggered into Bentley’s neck. “Oh, there’s a lever, my lord. Do you need help finding it?”

Before Sam could blink, his jaw was trapped in an unyielding grip, jerked over so he and Bentley were nose to nose.

“That’s enough,” Bentley growled. “Hold your fucking tongue and”—he gave a small thrust—“see to the task at hand.”

Sam froze, and desire shot straight to his ballocks, fierce and piercing, sending his blood to boiling.

They watched each other, the heavy rhythm of their breaths the only sound in the silent chamber.

This was an authoritativeness he would very, very much like to get behind.

All hesitance was gone now. Just determination.

His shaft twitched against Bentley’s, and a small hiss fled those pink lips.

Tempting, full lips. Lips Sam very much wanted a taste of.

Slowly, deliberately, Sam leaned forward.

They looked so soft compared to their sharp owner.

He ran his nose along Bentley’s. Then he took his taste.

He sank his teeth into the man’s bottom lip, dragging it with him as he pulled back just enough to feel the resistance before letting the pink plush flesh spring free.

His gaze flicked back up to Bentley’s, throwing every ounce of saucy defiance into that simple stare. “No.”

Bentley’s nostrils flared, but his eyes darkened. Sam thought his little lordling might hate that he loved Sam’s insolence. But Sam wasn’t moving forward until Bentley specifically stated he wanted Sam. Sam wanted to hear the words. Wanted the arrogant man to admit he was desperate for Sam .

“Not until you say what you want. Who you want.”

Sam thrust once more, then leaned back and wrapped his fist around them both.

His oil-slicked hand slid over them, hand loose, preventing them both the friction they needed.

It was more contact, but it was worse than before in what it denied.

Bentley’s hips thrust into Sam’s hand. A silent plea for more.

More friction. More speed. But he wasn’t talking yet, wasn’t begging yet. So, Sam denied them both.

Bentley squirmed against him, seeking. His thick fingers dug into the flesh of Sam’s arse and—holy shite—the man was strong.

He yanked Sam into him with a forceful thrust. Sam groaned at the bone-melting need flooding him, but he pushed back and held himself still.

Now that he was ready for it, he easily braced himself while Bentley ineffectually tried to pull them into a faster rhythm.

“God damn it, Thorne. You are the most infuriatingly loquacious pest I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Fuck me already.”

Sam grinned, and Bentley’s jaw ticked deliciously. He wanted to lick the muscle. “That was almost passable, but not quite sufficient . You didn’t use your manners.”

Bentley cursed, and he shook his head, amber eyes wide in disbelief. “I may actually strangle you.”

Sam leaned in, letting his lips drag over Bentley’s skin as he spoke. “Mmm, how positively wicked of you. That’s twice now you’ve threatened me with that.” He pulled back and fluttered his eyelashes. “You really need to work on your threats, my lord.”

Bentley’s fingers tightened in response. Someone really liked that idea.

“All you have to do to get what you want… Is say please.” Sam ran his nose against Bentley’s neck, and his eyes rolled back. The man smelled edible. Earthy, woodsy, mixed with aroused male.

“ Fuck. Please,” burst from Lord Bentley.

Sam groaned, closing his fist a little tighter. “Who? Who do you want?” And then he trailed his tongue over the curve of Bentley’s ear.

Bentley shivered, his hips canting into Sam’s fist.

“You,” he said breathlessly. “You, Thorne. Please .”

Thank Christ. Sam wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold himself back.

He kept his lips on the shell of Bentley’s ear.

“Good boy.” Which elicited the most beautiful needy noise from the man’s throat.

And then Sam gave them what they both wanted.

He squeezed his palm tighter around them and stroked, quick and sure, twisting over their heads on every pull upward.

Bentley pressed himself back into the wall, his gaze dropping to where Sam’s fist shuttled over them.

To where they both thrust desperately into Sam’s fist. But Sam only had eyes for the man coming undone in front of him.

Flushed freckled cheeks, amber eyes as richly colored as the autumn foliage they’d be seeing soon.

Mouth parted, making that soft jaw even softer.

Powerful muscles flexing as he met Sam like an equal, thrust for thrust.

He was a contradiction. Softness and strength.

Bentley let out a low guttural sound that hit Sam deep in his ballocks.

His hand bit into the skin of Bentley’s hip, using the leverage to drive harder.

Bentley hitched his leg up, giving Sam better access to that arse he’d been drooling over for a sennight, better control over pulling the man’s hips into his.

Bentley’s head lolled back against the wall, eyes closed.

His hands latched onto Sam’s upper arms, gripping so hard the blunt ends of the man’s fingernails scored his skin.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Bentley chanted.

Sam bit gently on Bentley’s ear. “See, I told you, you’d be calling me God.”

Their gazes locked, and all he saw in Bentley’s heavy-lidded eyes was pure fire. Molten lust. “You know,” he panted. “I was doing a really great job pretending it wasn’t you I’m doing this with until you opened your mouth again.”

Sam’s lips kicked up. “Mmmm, say more sweet things to me, my lord.”

Bentley’s lips twitched, and somehow that small sign of amusement was more exhilarating than the frigging they were doing right now. Clearly, the man needed this. Perhaps if he shagged more often, he wouldn’t be such an uptight prick.

Time to reward him for seeming more human than arrogant aristocrat.

Sam slid his hand over Bentley’s arse until his fingers skimmed into his crease.

He slowly trailed his fingers lower while he stroked their cocks tight and fast with his other hand.

When one of his oil slicked fingers rubbed over Bentley’s hole, a feral groan flew from the man’s lips.

And Bentley went wild. One hand on Sam’s arm, the other falling to Sam’s hip, he thrust into Sam at a punishing pace. His hip hitched higher, those strong thigh muscles squeezing around Sam like the man wanted to climb Sam like a bloody tree. God, to have those thighs wrapped around him.

Heat raced through Sam, an inferno burning him from the inside out. Fucking hell, was there anything more delicious than this man completely giving over to lust? He was ravenous when he shed his starched exterior and let the animal underneath free.

Lust swallowed Sam, and he laid into Bentley, his hand on their cocks no longer moving, just acting as a sinful squeeze while they each fucked into his fist at a frantic pace.

They were nothing but grunts and moans and ragged breaths.

Jerky movements and searing hot skin, the smell of sweet sweat and sex surrounding them.

Then Sam’s orgasm slammed into him, nearly unbearable pressure breaking into silky pleasure.

He bit down on Felix’s shoulder, muffling his hoarse cry into the man’s skin.

Bentley tensed, and then the most beautiful low moan Sam’d ever heard met his ears as Bentley followed him over the edge, their warm release shooting over their stomachs.

He sank against Bentley, panting heavily, head still buried in the man’s shoulder.

And for the first time in Sam’s life, he didn’t have words.