Page 21 of The Demons of Wychwood

BED FELLOWS

When the interviews and dinner were complete Kit retired to the master’s bed chamber, and at his request I soon followed. When the door was closed and locked, we both let out a sigh of relief. Kit was exhausted and appeared haunted by all that we had heard today. General Napier was evil to his bones, a brute who took whatever he wanted. The one good thing that came out of this awful day was that we were beginning to amass plenty of proof that he was a wrong’un. I hope it was enough to see him hang.

The roaring fire took the chill from the room while the wind howled outside, as if the spirits of the dead were calling for justice. Kit was silent as he began to undress. I watched him, transfixed as if I was suddenly drunk and couldn’t move. Christopher Havelock always made me feel like I’d been touched by magic, enchanted. He removed his shirt and tossed it onto a chair and then unbuttoned his trousers. I caught myself staring and embarrassed, I moved off and made my way over to the servant’s room I’d been allotted, so I could get out of my travel clothes and wash .

“Where are you going?” Kit sounded wary and alarmed. “I said you could share with me.”

I turned to see him standing by the fire as naked as the day he was born and my god, he was the most handsome cove I’d ever seen. His pale skin glistened in the firelight and our gazes collided with need. We both wanted an escape from all of the horror we’d heard today. Kit licked his rosy lips and my gaze hungrily followed the track of his tongue. I then opened the door to the servant’s bedroom and shivered as I stepped in. “Felix?” Kit whimpered and I grinned wickedly. I enjoyed teasing my lord and making him wait. It was icy and uninviting in the servant’s bedchamber, and I pitied the poor bugger who once slept in this room with no fireplace to keep them warm. I stripped quickly and rummaged through my satchel for my nightshirt and bed socks. Then I returned to the blessedly warm bedroom to see Kit sitting on the edge of the grand bed in his nightshirt, looking dejected. Oh dear, that would not do. When I closed the door to the servant’s room he looked up and our eyes met, his brown eyes widening with need and anticipation.

“I thought for a moment that I’d be sleeping alone,” Kit opined.

“Are you mad? That servant’s room is like a bloomin’ ice house. Go on then, get in, and warm our bed,” I chuckled, “I’m just going to wash up and take a piss.” Kit smiled so brightly he burned like a thousand suns. He dazzled me as he stood and strode confidently to the other side of the bed, letting me get an eye-full of the way his thin nightshirt clung to his firm, pale backside, and sculptural back. I swear, Lord Christopher Havelock was so well made he wouldn’t be out of place on a pedestal in a sculpture garden. I loved the way his coal black curls rested on his broad shoulders and I looked my fill. He picked up the edge of the coverlet on his side of the bed. I pulled myself from my aroused daze, and I took the other. Together we pulled the covers back then Kit slipped in. “Back in a tick,” I said, before rushing to the bathroom. I made swift work of my ablutions and then hurried back, slipped into bed and blew out my bedside candle, and Kit followed suit. Now we had only the light of the fire in the hearth. The mattress really was much firmer than my bed at home. I wriggled and bounced and there was barely a creek from the oak bed frame. The bed was heavenly, an island where we could find rest and comfort in one another’s bodies. I lay back and opened my arms and legs like a starfish then Kit laughed and did the same. I turned and rolled onto my side.

“Can I kiss you, milord? I find it’s become one of my favourite things to do,” I said with a wag of my brows .

“What? You didn’t like fucking me?”

“Oh, I most certainly did. But holding you and kissing you without either of us being in any rush to reach our crisis…I like that very much,” I admitted.

Kit turned onto his side to face me then and tears glistened in his eyes. “You have such a way with words Felix. I never knew I could feel like this, share affections and not feel…wrong and unclean. It seems so easy for you to unmoor me.”

I leaned in and tasted milord’s lips then, still amazed by the novelty of having his permission to do so. And that is how we spent our time before we drifted off to sleep, kissing and caressing, learning what pleased each other, and it was perfect.

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The next day I woke up in a darkened bedroom entangled in my lover, my nightshirt was up around my middle, my leg thrown over his, my face pressed to his chest and my morning erection warm against his flat belly. It was a delightful way to greet a new day, and a chuckle of contentment roused my bed fellow.

“You seem rather pleased with yourself,” he said in a sleep sodden rasp.

“I’m very pleased with the position I found myself in on waking,” I admitted as I canted my hips letting my cockstand rub against his hairy belly. He groaned and reached for me.

“No you don’t! Let me empty my bladder before we…wake each other up properly,” I said and regretfully rolled away from the cocoon of warmth we’d created together. The fire was now ashes and the frigid air met my shivering flesh as I hurried to deal with my personal business using a very posh bathroom that had its own water closet, sink, and bath. When I’d washed up and returned to the warm bed, Kit took his turn and then hurried back through the freezing bedroom, rejoining me in bed. “G…Gods, what time is it?” he asked as he shivered. I rubbed my hands over him to warm him up.

“No Idea.” We lay wrapped in one another’s arms for a moment before Kit said,

“I think we should find out, after all we wouldn’t want to be interrupted by a servant!”

I sat up, and looked towards the fireplace clock but the curtains were closed so that no light could penetrate the room. “Bugger it!” I exclaimed when I realized I’d have to get out of bed again. I slid from the bed and strode to the curtain and pulled it aside to let a little light into the room. The clock on the mantle said it was six-forty-five in the morning. “Blimey, it’s far too early to get out of bed!” I turned back to the bed to see the dark pools of Kit’s eyes were taking in my form, while his hand moved up and down under the covers. This surprised me cos so fearful was he of God’s wrath, and the poison Edward Napier had been whispering in his ear, he’d told me he never engaged in pleasuring himself. Watching him touching his prick lit up my voyeuristic tendency and assured me that the chain that Napier had thrown around Kit, preventing him from seeking pleasure alone or with another of the same preference, was finally broken.

“Let me see you,” I said in a gravelly lust-soaked whisper. Kit licked his lips; his eyes still trained on me as I got back in the bed. I dragged my nightshirt over my head, tossed it aside, and then eased closer. I sat back on my haunches as he bit his plump lower lip and drew back the covers to show me what he was doing. His lovely long fingers gripped his stiff prick, and moved up and down the shaft, and then he rolled a thumb over the meaty head to spread the clear precum.

“My, my, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I asked, my voice sounding dreamy.

“I like it when you speak to me like that,” Kit admitted. “It’s not something I’ve heard before. Tell me what I should do next.”

Oh, that challenge made my bollocks ache and my cockstand twitch. “Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job, milord. But why don’t you rub your free hand over your chest, yeah, that’s it. Now pinch a nipple, good, now the other,” I directed. Kit did so and his hips arched involuntarily. “Gods, that was intense. I had no idea my nipples could be so sensitive,” he panted.

“Do it again, keep your eyes on me, stroke yourself and pinch your nipples hard.”

“Ahh, Felix, it feels so good.”

“This is your pleasure, my dear, own it, revel in it. It’s how you were made. You have the right to touch your own body and don’t let any man tell you any different.” I knew my loose beliefs were scandalous to Kit, and that his family was devout. Self-abuse was seen as a sin in the eyes of the church, but my, my, what a delightful way to sin. I sat in awe and watched as Kit blossomed like a spring flower. He needed permission, and my greedy eyes on him did the job. The wanton grunts that came from his lips as he got closer to his crisis aroused me so, but I didn’t touch myself. This moment was Kit’s and he deserved my reverent gaze upon him.

“I’m…I’m close, Felix, oh god. Will you let me mark you?”

“Yes, anything you need.” I lay down beside Kit, my cockstand proud and needy, and I desperately wanted to deal with it, but I’d wait for Kit. I rubbed a hand over my chest in anticipation. Kit rose to his knees, his head down, the coal black locks curtaining his face as his hand shuttled fiercely up and down and he focused solely on finding his release. It took a few more tugs before Kit threw his head back and roared out a triumphant, “Yes, yes,” as his prick showered me with his pearly spend. I was so turned on by the spectacle that I couldn’t keep my hands off myself. I ran my fingers through his leavings and used it to slick my prick.

“Oh, Felix, how ingenious,” Kit gasped as he slumped beside me and watched me slake my desire. It didn’t take long at all, what with the handsome, thoroughly debauched lord at my side. As I reached my crisis Kit surprised me once again, this time by leaning in and gobbling my cockhead so I shot in his mouth. The act was so unexpected and erotic that it increased the pleasure and I passed out from the sheer joy of it.

Later, I awoke in his arms and looked up. He was dozing too and had a soppy grin of satisfaction on his face. It warmed my heart that I’d been party to that revelation. I heard a door slam, and sounds of servants around the house. The mantle clock now said it was seven-twenty, a perfectly reasonable time to get up. I eased up and placed a kiss on Kit’s mouth. He smiled into the kiss, and when I pulled away, he seemed to have realized, just like me, that it was time to face the day. We were both well rested and determined to continue with our reason for being at Penhelligan Hall—finding justice.

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