Page 17 of The Labours of Lord Perry Cavendish

6

Jonny

Lord Peregrine Cavendish didn’t have the slightest idea how very appealing he was, Jonny thought, as he gazed up at the man from his kneeling position.

Handsome wasn’t quite the right word for him. Perry was not a fair, beautiful youth like Lysander, but with those blunt features and that big, broad body, he was the very embodiment of masculine glory. To Jonny, he looked genuinely strong enough to wrestle a lion.

Hercules indeed.

It wasn’t just his size and strength, though. There was something else about Perry. Something boyish and almost sweet. Perhaps it was his lack of experience—which, right now, was palpable—but no, again, it wasn’t only that. There was something about his nature—Jonny couldn’t quite put his finger on it yet, but helikedit.

A small voice inside Jonny warned him not to get too close to Perry. After all, only yesterday he’d told Adam that he was determined to avoid entanglements for a while. But really, one cocksucking did not an entanglement make. True, when he and Adam had spoken, Jonny had fully intended that any friendship he offered Perry would be purely platonic, but good lord, the man obviouslyneededthis. Just because Jonny was about to get down on his knees and suck Perry’s cock didn’t mean he’d be falling head over heels in love. Jonny was an experienced man, perfectly capable of approaching this as a—a gesture of friendship.

And if he was only getting one shot at this young god, he was going to bloody well enjoy it!

“Let’s get comfortable,” he said, patting Perry’s hip. “Go and have a seat on the chaise longue over there.”

“All right,” Perry said breathlessly. He crossed the room to the long, shabby sofa.

“You might as well take your drawers off too,” Jonny added, as he got to his feet. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Perry glanced up, and his face flamed red. He cleared his throat. “I don’t mind, if that’s easier.”

“Much easier,” Jonny confirmed, making his way over to the wooden chest and lifting the lid to rifle through the contents. He dragged out a thin quilt and folded it up while Perry removed his drawers.

“Do you want me to sit or lie down?” Perry asked uncertainly.

“Sit, please,” Jonny said. He held up the folded quilt. “This is for my knees.”

Perry nodded and smiled nervously, lowering himself onto the chaise longue while Jonny set the folded quilt on the ground at his feet and knelt. Setting a hand on each of Perry’s knees, Jonny pressed them gently open and shuffled forward, moving into the space he’d made.

When he looked at Perry again, he saw the poor lad was as nervous as a rabbit, and the inconsistency of that—this big, hulking man looking so skittish—melted his heart. He smiled warmly and, he hoped, reassuringly.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said softly. “You’re going to love this.”

With that, he shuffled closer, pushing Perry’s muscular thighs still wider as he crowded his own lean body between them.

Perry might have been nervous, but his anxiety certainly wasn’t affecting his arousal. His cock was as large as the rest of him, a thick club of rosy-tipped flesh that dripped eagerly above balls that were pulled up high and tight.

Jonny wet his lips in anticipation at the sight, and Perry moaned, his colour deepening when Jonny glanced quickly up and their gazes caught.

“You really want to do this?” Perry said, his eyes round with amazement.

“Oh, I really do,” Jonny assured him, and with that, he leaned in close and began.

He started at the base of Perry’s cock, licking a long, wet stripe up the straining length before suckling lightly on the head, relishing the burst of salt on his tongue from Perry’s eager slit. Above him, Perry hissed out a shaky breath. It was tempting to take Perry right to the back of his throat immediately, just to hear his reaction. But Jonny wanted to make this last, so he toyed with the head, giving it playful cat-licks and kisses for a while before making his way slowly back down to the base to start again. He worked his way up, then down, then up and down again, till Perry was whimpering, his powerful thighs shaking under Jonny’s hands.

This time, instead of licking his way back up the hefty shaft, he shuffled back and moved further down to explore Perry’s balls, suckling first one, then the other, into his mouth and nudging at the wrinkled purse of flesh with his nose. Shifting down further still, he painted the delicate patch of flesh beneath Perry’s balls with his tongue, relishing the shocked gasp that elicited—before working his way slowly and patiently up again.

By now, his own cock was throbbing painfully, and as he crested the rounded head of Perry’s weeping cock with his tongue, finally taking the whole head into his mouth and beginning to work his way down that mighty shaft, he could hold off no longer. He began tearing at the buttons of his pantaloons, ripping open the placket with his right hand and working his hand through the folds of linen to take his own needy cock in hand.

Perry’s cries, as Jonny swallowed him down, working him deeper into his throat, were raw.

“Christ,” he said hoarsely. “Christ,Jonny.”

And then Perry’s hands were on Jonny’s head, not pressing or shoving, thankfully—Jonny hated that—but stroking and caressing. The fingers of his right hand tunnelled into Jonny’s hair while his left tenderly cradled the back of Jonny’s skull, and all the time Perry was gasping and pleading and whimpering his pleasure.

Jonny knew when Perry was about to spend. The man’s cries became louder and faster, and his cock grew that little impossible bit harder. Every bit of his big, glorious body went tight and urgent. Jonny’s climax was rushing upon him at the same time, his right hand working his own cock desperately as he shuttled Perry’s cock in and out of his throat. His jaw ached, and he was making absurd smothered, gagging noises, but in a strange way, these indignities only added to his pleasure.