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CHAPTER SEVEN

Henry

Another dinner in bed.

Another meal with Percy watching me eat.

Another supper with cook having cut my food into tiny pieces for easier consumption.

The rest of my life. I have to do this for the rest of my existence.

That did not rest easy with me.

After returning the trays downstairs, Percy closed the door. “Isabella is asleep and Mrs. Fernsby believes the little one will sleep through the night.” He removed his coat. “That was a good thing you did—hiring her as a governess.”

“Isabella is clearly in good hands. Mrs. Fernsby has proven herself capable and, more importantly, respects me.” I scratched my nose. “I believe those qualities are as imperative as her qualifications as a former governess.”

“And you shall be here to watch over both of them.” Percy moved to the closet. “You’re still a good man, my lord. Sorry, Henry.”

Ah, before I could correct him. His words hit me. “ Still? ”

He returned, wearing just his nightshirt. “You always were. Your rakish behavior with the ladies of London might have brought a reputation of ill-repute, but you did not disgrace any ladies beyond reputational repair.”

I glared. “What reputation ?”

He grinned. “I shall not share the stories I heard tell of. All of which ended, naturally, after you went to war.” His expression turned serious, with a little crease forming between his eyes. “That was brave.”

“I might’ve continued my sexual conquests on the continent.”

“Oh, really.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, perhaps one day you’ll share.”

I shook my head. “Those days are behind me. I am reformed.”

“And redeemed.” He shifted from foot to foot. “You fought honorably against a tyrant. You saved an entire population from ruin.”

“We declared war against the man.”

“The despot.”

“Yes. That.” I frowned. “So many lives lost.”

“He would have come to our shores eventually. As he did Russia and others. His…” Percy waved his hand.

“Hubris.”

“Yes. That.” He repeated my words. “Knew no bounds. You and the others kept us safe. I will never forget that.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I am tired, Percy.”

“And you still wish me to come to your bed?”

“Of course.” I patted the space beside me.

After just a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the covers back and slid into bed next to me. He gazed at me.

“What, Henry?”

“I…” I cleared my throat. “I enjoyed kissing you.”

An incredibly intimate act. “I enjoyed kissing you.” He grinned. “Would you like to kiss again?”

“I feel like I forced you. That you were obliged?—”

“Hush.” He pressed a finger to my lips. “I chose to come to you. You were in need of…assistance.”

“My missing arm.”

“Certainly. And you have…needs. I assumed, what with you being in the army…”

“I did not. Other men did, certainly, but I did not.”

“Have you never…?” He scrunched his nose as if trying to determine if I was unfamiliar with how things were between men.

Should I be honest with him? That he would be my first? “No, I have never.”

“Ah. And you wish…?” His pale-blue eyes widened. Barely visible in the candlelight.

“Yes, I wish. I really wish.” I think I will die if you do not kiss me again.

“Then you shall.” He moved, so he hovered over me.

I lifted my arm to grasp his neck and then pulled him down for a kiss.

A toe-curling, soul-searing, earth-shattering kiss.

Our tongues fought for dominance.

I grasped his hair and pulled.

In response, his cock pressed hard against my hip.

I tried to angle himself so I could rub against him.

He held his hand against my thigh—holding me steady. Finally, he ended the kiss.

Our gazes met.

“You frustrate me, Percy. Never doing what I want.”

He batted his eyelashes at me. “You asked for a kiss.”

“I…” My gaze narrowed. “I certainly implied I wanted more.” I scratched my nose. “Are you going to make me ask?”

“Yes, certainly. Because suddenly you like kissing and?—”

“I’ve always liked kissing. I haven’t done it as often as you might think—some ladies were not interested.” I pursed my lips.

“That is not what I was referring to.” He held my gaze.

“To what are you referring?” I tilted my head. “Your expression is so serious.”

“It hurts my heart to see you treated so abominably. To me, you are just Henry. The boy I fell in love with when we were young men.”

I blinked. “What?” I could not comprehend what he was telling me.

“Because I have always loved you. As soon as I was old enough to appreciate I was…different. That I did not fancy women. That I wanted men. That I wanted you.” He rushed on. “But I do not expect anything of you. I am happy to be your valet. I shall take whatever you are willing to give.”

“You are far too good to me.” I was undeserving of such clear adoration.

“Would you let me…?” Percy held my gaze.

Realization dawned. “Us?”

“Yes?”

“You?”

He nodded.

“Me?”

Another nod.

I was stunned because, for all of sharing my bed for the past couple of nights, I had not quite stretched my mind to going beyond kissing and fellatio. “I do not…”

“Ah, but I do. If I have your permission.”

Do I dare? Let him do carnal things to me? I am no longer the man I once was—taking pleasure wherever I could find it. I am now discerning. I am now…broken . I never believed I would find another bed partner. Someone to be intimate with. Here was an opportunity to feel again.

To breathe again.

To be myself again.

To enjoy the blessings of being close to someone and, for the first time in my life, not be focused on getting all that I could. Yes, I had always ensured the women with me derived pleasure as well. Well, for the most part, anyway. Now I faltered. Can I bring pleasure to Percy? Do I even know how?

“Keep thinking that hard, Henry, and you will talk yourself right out of this adventure.” He grinned. “I have all we might need, if that is your concern.” He winked.

Need?

Oh.

Oh .

“I would not?—”

“You need not concern yourself with anything.” He slid from the sheets, went to the closet, and returned a moment later with a small bottle.

I cocked my head.

“Oil. To…ease…things.”

Ah. Something I would never have thought of. For all my time in the army and knowing what other men partook in, I had never quite thought about practicalities.

Percy slid back into bed. “Do you wish me to extinguish the light?”

If he did, I would not be able to see his face. If he did, he would not have to look upon me.

As if reading my mind, he drew a finger lightly along my scar.

“I found you beautiful twenty-five years ago. Nothing has changed. In fact, my admiration of you has only increased over the years. Most especially in the last few weeks. You survived Waterloo. You assisted in bringing home victory for England. Those are no small feats.” He held up the bottle.

“Let me show you my appreciation. And perhaps, one day in the future, you might show me yours.”

I had engaged in sexual activity hundreds of times over the years. Never had the prospect both terrified and intrigued me in equal measures. “Perhaps.”

Another one of those heart-stopping grins. “Ah, the pleasures awaiting you.”

Just my thought. Along with the nerves.

“I have been attempting to discern the position least likely to cause you pain.”

Something I had not considered. Of course, until this moment, I had not really thought about having intercourse with Percy at all.

Making love. Whatever else this might be, it is far more than the mere coming together of body parts .

Which brought on an entire pile of thoughts I was unable to decipher at the moment. I cleared my throat. “And your thoughts?”

“If you lay on the uninjured side, and it bears your weight, I might enter you from behind.”

“Is that not how it is always done?” Although I imagined being on my knees and penetrated from?—

“Other ways exist, my lord.” He grinned even as he raised an eyebrow. “I intend to demonstrate all the permutations. Trust me—there are many.”

“I trust you.” Words I might have found almost impossible mere moments ago. Before I had let my mind travel the trail of optimism. Of seeing what was possible, rather than what could not be done.

“Then let me assist you.” Percy grasped my hip and gently encouraged me to roll onto my side.

My injured leg curled slightly as it touched the mattress. No pain, thank Christ. Just a twinge of discomfort that quickly passed.

Percy pressed himself against me, with his hard cock at the small of my back.

He trailed his fingers along my flank to my hip, then along my thigh until he reached the hem of my nightshirt.

He rucked it up until his fingers were able to trail along my exposed buttocks. “I need to get you ready for me.”

I swallowed. “Yes.” The word came out scratchy. “Yes, Percy. I trust you.” And I did—without a shadow of a doubt. Somehow, knowing he had felt something for me all along brought warmth to my chest instead of dread to my heart.

His fingers disappeared for a moment.

Then something cool pressed against my entrance.

I sucked in a breath.

“It will warm, Henry. Be patient.” He chuckled. “Patience never was your strong suit.”

He spoke the absolute truth.

My broken arm at age seven had been because I did not want to wait for the groomsman to saddle my horse at the time. The twisted ankle at eleven occurred when I jumped from the barn roof—which I absolutely should not have been on.

After a moment, he pressed a finger inside me.

I tensed.

He brushed a kiss against the back of my neck.

A shiver ran through me.

He slid his finger in farther.

I breathed through the strange sensation.

Again, after some time, he added a second finger, “This is smaller than my cock, but I promise I will be gentle.”

“I do not want gentle, Percy. I need you. More than I would have thought possible.”

He chuckled. Then he withdrew his fingers.

I felt oddly empty.

Until he nudged my behind with his cock. Then I felt panic.

“Breathe, Henry. I am not going to hurt you. I am going to take care of you.” He pressed himself against me again and slowly pressed in.

It did hurt. Felt different from what I expected. Not in a good way…but not in a bad way either. Yes, I understood men did this—even if I had not wanted to think about specific men doing this—but I had never envisioned myself in this position. “I am breathing.”

He chuckled. Then gripped my hip as he pressed farther in.

My world narrowed focus in a way it seldom did. Similar to when I went into battle. That I needed to do this one thing. Whether to fight the French or to be the best bed partner for Percy—the focus was the same.

He withdrew slightly, then pressed in again. Back. Forth. Each time making his way deeper into me. Into my heart. Into my soul.

Because in all my years, I had never felt such intimacy. As if he and I were the only two beings in the world.

Finally, he stilled.

I adjusted.

“I need to move, Henry. You understand that, right?”

“Yes.” I said the words with some force. “I believe I need you to move as well.”

He continued to grip my hip as he moved. Almost all the way out, only to thrust back in. Over and over again.

My heart rate increased as his ardency encompassed me. I felt, to my depths, how special I was to him. The risk he was willing to take just to be with me—even if only in this one place and at this one time.

Suddenly, his hand was off my hip and grasping my cock. His rhythm faltered for a moment, but then he began anew, thrusting into me as he tugged my shaft.

An overwhelming sensation overcame me and, even as I tried to fight it off, inevitability won over. My balls drew up, and I spilled my orgasm onto his hand.

He continued his unrelenting rhythm until he too held still. His breathing was harsh against my neck as he whispered, “My lord.”

I laughed.