Convincing Leopold (4 page)

“
May I still call you friend, Thorn
?”

It was all he could do not to recoil as the memory slammed into him.

Arms crossed over his chest, he stood there and silently waited. Waited for Arthur to notice him. But Arthur’s attention remained fixed on that damn document, the silver end of his pen catching the sunlight streaming through the window as he made various notations, and Fenton’s attention remained fixed on Arthur.

Leopold cleared his throat.

Arthur looked up. Leopold could tell by the way it took a half second for those hazel eyes to focus on him that the man truly had no idea he’d had an audience for the past few minutes. “Good afternoon, Mr. Thornton,” he said, all professional politeness, as if Leopold was simply another client come to call. “If you’ll just give us a moment.”

Us, not me.

Fenton flicked a glance to Leopold. Quick and dismissive.

He fought the urge to flinch.

Arthur turned his attention to Fenton. “Make these revisions, then have Wilson deliver it to his lordship.”

Taking the document from Arthur, Fenton nodded. He lingered just a bit, clearly reluctant to relinquish his place, before finally moving from behind the desk.

Enough.

Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, Leopold leveled his coldest stare on the secretary.

Fenton’s stride faltered, then quickened, his gaze dropping to the polished floorboards.

Bloody insignificant bastard
. He didn’t need Arthur’s assistance one bit. A ploy and nothing more. Jealousy rolled up from Leopold’s stomach, yanked hold of him. It was all he could do not to bare his teeth and growl
he’s mine
as Fenton scurried past him.

Leopold flicked the door shut, likely much harder than needed given how the sound snapped through the quiet office, echoing off the mahogany-paneled walls.

Arthur’s hands stilled above the pile of papers on his left. Then he selected the top one. Fortunately, though, he did not pick his pen back up and instead finally turned his attention to Leopold. “How has your day been?”

“Good.” And soon to get significantly better. The tavern could wait for another day. He turned the lock on the door slowly, trying to dampen the soft
click
as it slid home. Gaze pinned on his lover, he crossed the room. “Busy morning?”

Arthur let out a sigh, the straight line of his shoulders slumping the barest bit. “Yes.”

“Were you able to review those documents last night?”

“Fortunately, yes, else I would have found myself quite behind today.”

“You shouldn’t work yourself so hard.”

He shrugged. “It is referred to as work for a reason.” Arthur swept his gaze over him as he rounded the desk. A notched V pulled his brows. “Any particular reason for today’s visit?”

Leopold’s lips quirked. “Yes.” His fingers itched to unravel Arthur’s crisp cravat. To pull the navy coat from those broad shoulders. To strip away every trace of the conservative solicitor.

Arthur’s eyes flared, and he cast a distinctly nervous glance toward the door. “Thorn…”

“Arthur,” he teased, stopping beside him. Resting a hand on the arm of Arthur’s leather chair, he leaned down, lips brushing Arthur’s ear. “Do you remember how good it felt last night when my lips were wrapped around your cock?”

“Thorn.” The warning was clear in his tone, yet Leopold didn’t miss the way the man’s breaths hitched. “Don’t. Not here at my—”

“The hot glide as I worked my mouth up and down your length,” he whispered, cutting him off. He traced the edge of Arthur’s shirt collar with his other hand, the short strands of hair at his nape tickling his fingertips. “Your skin so slick and wet. Your cock so damn hard and thick, filling my mouth. I could barely take all of you.”

He felt the shiver rack Arthur’s body. Heard the barely perceptible grunt rumble his chest.

“You did, though. Took it all,” Arthur said, low and hoarse yet edged with the rising urgency of lust.

“And I thoroughly enjoyed every moment.”

He let his hand drop to Arthur’s thigh, trailed his fingers up to the placket of his trousers. The heavy bulk hidden within jumped. He stroked the rapidly hardening length, pushing the lust higher, needing to take Arthur to the point where he’d forget their surroundings.

“I love sucking your cock.”
I love you
. “And I love when you take control. When you use me for your own pleasure. When you grab me by the hair and fuck my mouth.”

Arthur’s hand, resting on the desk, flexed, then tightened into a fist. His hips thrust up, pushing into Leopold’s touch. Without slowing the determined strokes on the man’s erection, Leopold chanced a quick glance at Arthur’s face. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted on quickening breaths, the notched V completely absent from his brow. All obvious hints of resistance gone.

“I want you to come down my throat, coat my tongue with your seed. I want to suck every last drop from you.” He nipped at Arthur’s ear. “Hell, you always taste so damn good.”

Arthur groaned. “
Damnation
, Thorn.”

Another nip to Arthur’s ear. “Move back a bit,” he murmured, urgency and need hot on his heels. Just telling Arthur what he wanted to do to him had his own cock aching and hard. He could almost taste the sweet, musky flavor of Arthur’s release. He relinquished his hold on that stiff prick just long enough to push on the arms of the chair. Arthur must have cooperated, for the chair easily moved back enough to allow Leopold to fit between Arthur’s thighs and the desk.

Working the buttons on the placket of Arthur’s trousers, he dropped to his knees, intent on giving his lover a blatant reminder of just what he could offer him. Fenton may have a sterling reputation, but it was highly doubtful a whelp like him could come close to matching Leopold’s skill at sucking cock.

He wasted not a moment freeing Arthur’s erection and wrapping his lips around the crown. One quick deep breath, then he sank down, relaxing his throat and taking every inch of Arthur’s length.

Arthur’s growl rumbled around him, the sweetest of praises. If his mouth had not been already fully occupied, he would have grinned in triumph.

Instead he swallowed around Arthur’s cock. That growl turned into a groan. He pulled back, grabbed the base of Arthur’s prick, and worked his mouth up and down. His grip firm, pumping in counterpoint, his lips tight around the iron-hard length.

A large hand threaded into his hair, palming the back of his skull. With each backstroke, Arthur pushed down, his hips nudging up, wanting more. The pressure light but definitely there. He could feel the tension in Arthur’s grip—hell, in his entire body. Could feel how he held back, resisting the impulse to slam Leopold down and force him to take it all. The care, the consideration Arthur showed him even when consumed by lust, made his heart slam desperately against his ribs.

Please, love me. Please need me for more than this.

But why would he?

Doubt reared its ugly head. Pain sliced into his chest. He shoved the near paralyzing worry aside and focused on Arthur. On at least keeping the man bound to him with pleasure.

“So good. So damn good.”

Arthur’s murmured words filled his ears. The tang of
precum
teased his tongue. Needing to feel the hot splash of liquid heat hit the back of his throat, needing to taste the proof of Arthur’s desire for him, he intensified his efforts. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked harder. Stroked faster. Arthur’s length hardened even further. The man was so close he could feel the climax begin to grip hold of him.

Arthur’s fingers tightened in his hair. “
Bloody hell
.” The curse was low, urgent, desperate. “Damnation, I want you.”

Leopold shot to his feet and turned. Yanked at the placket of his trousers. Shoved them to his knees. He spit into his palm, then reached around and swiped between his
arse
cheeks, coating his entrance. Quick and hasty, but it would suffice. Holding his shirttail and coat aside, he used his other hand to pull back one cheek.

“Hold your cock steady,” he urged as he lowered over Arthur’s lap.

The crown slipped over his entrance. He tilted his hips to the necessary angle and pressed down. Hard.

A harsh wince pulled his lips, clamped his eyes shut.
Holy hell
! Sharp pain screamed throughout his body, stinging his nerves, demanding he lift up and escape the burning stretch. Somehow he kept the grunt inside.

“Be careful. Slow down, Thorn.”

With a shake of his bowed head, he ignored Arthur’s warning. Ignored the large hand cupping his bare hip, trying to slow him, and sank lower. “Just had you last night,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth, trying for something that resembled a casual, flippant tone. He really should have thought to prepare himself while sucking off Arthur.

In a few moments, the pain would pass, he promised himself, and there would be nothing but pleasure. Thick, lush, glorious pleasure. And he needed that pleasure soon, else he’d completely lose his erection.

The instant his
arse
finally met Arthur’s groin, he grabbed an arm of the chair, lifted up, and bounced on the thick prick, stretching himself beyond wide. Quick and furious. Slamming down hard. Taking all of Arthur with each stroke.

The pain quickly shifted to pleasure, flooding his senses. His cock bobbed helplessly with each thrust, slapping against the hem of his shirt pulled taut across his waist. He wanted to turn around. Straddle Arthur’s hips, slant his mouth over his lover’s and kiss him. Have the man in his arms.

Needing to resist the urge, he tightened his hold on the chair’s arm and slammed down harder, chasing the climax building within.

Arthur shifted beneath him. Harsh, hot pants brushed across his ear. An arm wrapped around his waist, tugged him against the hard wall of Arthur’s chest. The movement changed the angle of Arthur’s prick. The crown slid directly across that perfect spot inside him.

Ecstasy shot through his body. “
Yes
.”

“Thorn. I…” Arthur gasped for breath. “Can’t hold back.”

Holding Leopold tight to him, Arthur thrust upward. Sharp teeth pressed against his shoulder. The man’s deep groan reverberated through Leopold’s back as liquid warmth filled his passage.

Fully impaled on Arthur’s cock, Leopold grabbed his own erection, furiously stroked the length. His back arched as the orgasm seized him.

Panting for breath, Thorn slumped back, resting the full weight of his sleek body against Arthur. Eyes closed and not minding the weight in the slightest, Arthur wrapped his other arm around Thorn and held him.

After a moment, Thorn shifted on his lap. A bristly jaw scraped across his cheek.

“Kiss me,” Thorn whispered.

The muffled sound of a door slamming shut cut through the thick fog of blissful contentment. Every muscle in Arthur’s body went rigid. His eyes snapped open. He jerked his head, avoiding Thorn’s kiss, and looked to the door. The knowledge that it was safely shut, that they were still the only two men in the room, did not calm his pulse in the slightest.

Hell and damnation
. They had just fucked at his office. Had Thorn absolutely no sense of propriety? Could he be any more careless? And the man was still sitting on his cock, for Christ’s sake.

“Get up,” he urged, careful to keep his voice quiet, yet the hushed words seemed unnaturally loud.
Oh dear Lord
. Had Fenton and Wilson heard them? Had that been a client who had just entered his office?

He pushed on Thorn’s bare hips when the man didn’t move fast enough. Thorn finally stood, Arthur’s spent cock slipping from his body. Arthur quickly tucked the damp length into his drawers and began to button the placket.

“Let me do that for you,” Thorn said, laying his hands over Arthur’s.

Arthur swatted him aside. “I can do it myself. See to your own trousers.”

Thorn nodded. With his usual quick efficiency, he repaired his clothing.