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CHAPTER FIVE

Henry

I had not precisely meant to ask Percy to my bed. That certainly had not been my intention when I retired after the Marstons and Thortons had departed.

After the debacle.

In that moment, though, I had remembered what having a warm body next to me felt like.

That said, in all my years of bedding ladies, I rarely stayed the night, often worried about being caught.

For all my rakish behavior, I never wanted the lady’s reputation to suffer.

Nor did I want to be found in a compromising position and forced into a marriage.

Never once, in all those years, had I met a woman worth giving up my bachelor status for.

Percy went to the closet and returned later, wearing nightclothes. Then he slid into bed beside me.

“You may extinguish the candle.” I did not want him looking at me.

“As you wish.” He followed my request. My command. Whatever it was.

“And I have left strict instructions not to be disturbed in the morning. I made it clear you would care for me, and I would appear when I was ready to face the day.” I winced. “Martha gave me a sympathetic look. I wish the staff had not witnessed that debacle.”

“They will be discreet.”

Of course they will. They wish to keep their posts . “I suppose. But they might gossip amongst themselves.”

“I can put a stop to that.” He said the words with surety.

“How?”

“By speaking to Mr. Fortescue. He will make it clear you will dismiss anyone caught passing gossip. That such things would be inappropriate in your lordship’s home.

” He rustled the sheets. “Your father might not have been a wonderful father, but he was a generous employer. William barely had time to make any changes. Your staff are well-compensated and will not want to risk that.”

“You are certain?”

“I am. My father actively worked to ensure discretion. Fortescue is much the same.”

“You have much faith in those who work here.”

“They were devoted to the father. They will respect the son. My lord?—”

“Henry. Honestly, Percy, is it really so complicated? We are alone. I wish for you to call me by my Christian name. By the name given to me by my parents. For good or evil, they chose to name me such. Specifically after Henry the Fifth, if precision is required.” Something about his success in the Battle of Agincourt.

Hopefully not because of his short life.

I hoped to live well past his short life.

Although I had never distinguished myself in my battles against the French.

I had survived, though, and that had to be good for something.

Percy sighed. “Henry.”

“Will you always…am I ever to be just your lord?”

“I am uncertain what you mean.”

“Nothing. I mean nothing.” Only after the words escaped in a rush, did I perceive their double entendre.

Percy clearly hesitated. “I do not believe that to be the case, Henry.” He cleared his throat. “You have always played an important role in my life. And you are certainly something to a great number of people.”

I waved him off. Although in the dark, I suspected he saw nothing.

He grasped my hand, unerringly locating it, even in the pitch black. “You will not dismiss my words so cavalierly. I speak the God’s honest truth. You will respect that.”

“I…” Words escaped me. Because he was right. I needed to be more respectful of him.

Perhaps, also, of myself.

“Now, do you wish me to regale you with a retelling of a story I have read recently? Or will you be able to sleep without assistance?” His voice held strength.

“Will you…” I swallowed.

“How may I be of assistance, Henry?”

“What you did earlier…that was of great assistance.” Please let him understand. That I meant the help in the bath and not mounting Maestro or something else less important.

A long pause.

“Oh. Well, I am always pleased to be of assistance.”

“You were.” I rushed to reassure him. Then I hesitated. “So you might be induced to, well, assist me again?”

“No inducement required, Henry.” He rolled onto his side.

I could not see him…but I knew exactly where he was. In this moment, I regretted asking him to extinguish the light. I might be damaged, but he was physical perfection.

“Do you have a preference, my lord? Sorry, Henry.”

“Preference?”

“Well, the last time I held you in my hand. There are…other options.”

My cock, which had not been very interested, perked to attention.

I had hoped it might, as I wanted relief from the stress of the evening.

Some memory to obliterate all that had come before.

“Options?” I knew what happened between men and women.

Knew also, in theory, what things took place between men and other men.

“My mouth.” He leaned closer. “On your cock.”

Said cock strained. “That would be—” I cleared my throat. “—acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” He chuckled.

“Preferable? Although your hand is very nice as well. I will take whatever?—”

He pressed his lips to mine.

In my moment of startlement, he thrust his tongue into my mouth.

At first, I was too stunned to react. For him to be so bold. To take such liberties. And yet, as he continued, my body reacted. To his nearness. To the intimacy he was demanding.

He trailed his fingers down my chest. Lower still, to my abdomen.

Then even farther until he reached the hem of my nightshirt, which he pushed up until he exposed me.

We were beneath the covers, of course, so I was not cold.

Was not exposed in such a way as I might have been if this was a warm summer evening.

No, with winter nearly upon us, the nights were chilly. Having someone in my bed warmed me.

His chilled hand grasped my cock, causing me to startle.

He pulled away from our kiss and chuckled. “You are quite responsive. And ready for me, I see.”

“Yes.” My voice came out breathy. I cleared my throat. “That would be pleasurable. If you are certain.”

“I would not have offered if I was not certain.” He squeezed my shaft. “I believe you will be pleased with the result.”

A bit of arrogance never went amiss.

Slowly, he slid under the covers and down my body.

I opened my legs for him.

He settled between my thighs.

I had perhaps thought he might take his time, but he did no such thing. Instead, he swirled my crown with his tongue, then drew me into his mouth forthwith.

I gasped at the warm and wet sensation that shot through me like a bullet. I had not been the recipient of such pleasure, of such intimacy, in many years. War did not easily lend itself to intimacies with ladies, and I chose not to avail myself of other options.

Now, as Percy sucked me down, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps I should have considered taking a lover. Any lover.

Except…I had not wanted a male lover. To share intimacies with another soldier.

Even now, I did not comprehend why I was so hard for Percy. Why I reacted so violently to his attention. Remembering his hand on me in the bath was a pleasant memory, but having his mouth on me was so much more.

He grazed his fingers against my balls.

“Yes. That.” Even as I forced out the words, I fought the overwhelming sensation to sink into my climax. I was not ready, though, to give in. I wanted to prolong this pleasure for as many minutes as I could. Hours, even, if that were possible.

Even as I had the thought, though, my balls drew up. “I’m coming, Percy. Please?—”

Please what? Please stop? Please do not stop? Please pull off? Please do not pull off?

In the end, he continued to suck me and, after a long moment of suspense, my body went rigid, and I came. Down his throat. Spectacularly.

He hummed. In approval? In pleasure?

I was not certain.

Then he crawled up me and thrust his tongue into my mouth again.

And, again, the familiarity shocked me. I considered kissing to be almost as intimate as coitus. Clearly Percy did not feel the same.

Or does he? What if he is not just doing this for me? What if my guilt at asking such intimacies of him is unwarranted? What if…he enjoys this? Well, his cock hard against my hip was likely all the proof I required that he had most certainly enjoyed himself.

The taste of my essence only spurred me on—wanting more even as my flaccid cock assured me that I was not likely to see more action anytime soon. I pulled back. “Let me help you.”

“Help?” His breaths were almost as harsh as mine.

I grasped his cock through his nightshirt.

He let out a long breath. “You do not need?—”

“I want.” I had never held another man’s cock before, but I understood mechanics. When I attempted to pull off so I could spit in my hand, he held my hand in place.

He rutted just a few times, and then wetness stained the fabric as he let out a long hiss of what I hoped was pleasure. “Oh, Henry.”

My name. On his lips. Did all kinds of strange things to my insides. This time, he was not doing it because I commanded it. No, this was a name exchanged between two familiars. Two men who had just shared the most intimate of experiences.

Only as we untangled, did I realize I had brought him pleasure with my left hand. In the heat of the moment, there had been no awkwardness. I had not questioned my abilities or his pleasure. I had acted on instinct.

He eased into the crook of my arm, resting his head against my shoulder. “Thank you, Henry.”

“That simple?” I kept my tone wry.

He laughed. “Yes, that simple. Rest now. You have had a long day. We can speak more in the morning.”

Except we did not. He was dressed and ready to attend me.

Following his lead, I rose, washed, and dressed—with his assistance.

Always with his assistance.