My True Love Gave to Me (2 page)

He reached inside, shoving the shirttail aside to loosen the string on Thomas’s drawers and push the linen fabric down. Grabbing Alexander’s waist, Thomas shifted beneath him, lifting his hips and spreading his legs a bit wider. His erection sprang free from the confines of his clothing, slapping Alexander’s palm. Alexander’s hips jerked forward, his cock hardening to the point of pain, eager to feel the hot press of silken skin backed by iron.

Beyond frantic, he jerked on the placket of his own trousers, freeing his cock. Their kiss still unbroken, he wrapped his arms around Thomas’s neck, pressed his chest to the man’s broad chest and ground his hips, rubbing their pricks together. His hoarse groans mixed with Thomas’s. Fluid dripped from the head of his cock, slicking Thomas’s length just enough to tease, to torment. The friction barely on the good side of rough.

Need pounded fierce and hot through his veins. The waistband of his trousers bit into his hips, the buttons on the placket digging into his pelvic bone. He hated the clothing between them. Hated the way it restricted every movement, kept his lover hidden from his touch. He wanted Thomas naked. For once, to be able to rub the length of his bare body against Thomas’s. To move against him and feel the full power of the heat radiating off his body. To feel the first beads of sweat as they formed on his lover’s skin.

Frustration welled up inside him. Damnation, he wanted more. So much more. A grunt rumbled his throat. He thrust harder, pulling a groan from Thomas, but it wasn’t enough.

Panting hard, he dragged his lips across Thomas’s cheek. “I want you,” he whispered in his ear.

“I want you, too, Sasha.”

He could tell Thomas didn’t understand what he truly wanted. The reply too quick, flowing too easily off Thomas’s tongue without even one hint of hesitation.

Low and hoarse with bottled-up need, Alexander repeated the words, trying to vocalize the need that had been building these last two months, since the first moment their lips touched. “I
want
you.” He tilted his hips forward, rubbing his entrance over the hard arch of Thomas’s erection, the drag of fabric a wicked tease that made his muscles clench in anticipation.

A tremor shook Thomas’s body. Then the man went still.

The rhythmic clop of the horses’ hooves on the street suddenly filled Alexander’s ears. His pulse quickened, shortening his breaths with a sudden pinch of nervousness. He swallowed hard, pushed back the sharp bite of apprehension and squeezed his eyes closed tight.
“Please,”
he whispered against the cravat covering Thomas’s neck.

Oh dear Lord, please let Thomas want him, too.

The large hands spanning his waist tightened. Thomas lifted his hips. The drag of his cock along the crease of Alexander’s arse pulled a groan from them both.

Thomas tipped back his head. “We can’t.”

Alexander pushed back, but his stare of disbelief was surely lost in the darkness of the carriage. “Why not?”

“We are in a carriage.”

“And?”

“Sasha.” The remonstration was clear in Thomas’s tone. “I won’t… Absolutely refuse to…
here.
”

The man would not budge. Alexander knew it without a doubt.

They both lived with their parents when in Town. Where the hell else besides a carriage could they be so utterly alone?

“Bloody hell.” But the curse did little to ease the brutal riot of lust roused far past the point of aggravation.

“Sasha,” Thomas chided. “Gentlemen do not use such language.”

It was all he could do not to bare his teeth and growl at Thomas. Gentlemen did not kiss other men, and they certainly did not rut up against one another like dogs in heat. But pointing those facts out would only end in an argument with Thomas pushing him away. And that was the last thing he wanted.

He dropped his chin to his chest and forced a deep breath. Then another. And hell, the head of his cock still rested against Thomas’s, and the jostling of the carriage was certainly not helping his efforts to think clearly.

He bit his bottom lip, focused on the pain and not the luscious glide along Thomas’s heated skin, as he racked his brain.

His head snapped up. “My father’s hunting lodge.”

“Tonight?”

“No. It’s much too late and you need to be home soon. Tomorrow. No one will be there this time of year, not even the servants. We will be completely and absolutely alone. It’s only a few hours’ ride from London. We’ll take my curricle and only go for the night. No one will miss us. Our parents will simply assume we overindulged and spent the night at some hell or with friends from university. We’ll be back by the next afternoon, no one the wiser, and in plenty of time for any Christmas Eve dinner parties.” His gaze swept Thomas’s face, but he could not make out even a hint of his expression. “Please.” Hell, now he was begging. “I want to be with you. Don’t you want to be with me?”

His hands curled into fists at Thomas’s nape. His entire body drew tight against the heavy threat of rejection. He had never felt more vulnerable in all his life. He had laid bare his desires, opened his heart, his very self to Thomas. He needed to be with him. To show Thomas how much he loved him. How much he needed him.

Before Thomas could voice an objection, he slid down between Thomas’s spread thighs, dropping to his knees. Took hold of that thick cock and opened his mouth, taking him inside. Thomas’s gasp of surprise turned into a moan of utmost pleasure before the crown even bumped the back of Alexander’s throat.

Bobbing up and down, he tried to focus solely on driving Thomas over the edge. On taking him to the point where his senses were lulled, sated, the fight in him long gone. But the glide of his lips over the familiar smooth skin and the masculine taste of Thomas on his tongue had an orgasm tightening his ballocks, gripping the base of his prick, not to be denied.

His rhythm unbroken, he reached down, grabbed his cock and stroked. A hand palmed his skull, urging him onward.

“Sasha. Sasha…almost there…”

Tension gripped Thomas’s body then salty heat splashed the back of his throat. The climax raced down Alexander’s length. It was all he could do to swallow Thomas’s release as the orgasm seized his senses and he spilled onto the floorboards.

Pulling free, he forced his limbs to cooperate enough to crawl back onto Thomas’s lap. He rested his head against his broad shoulder and struggled to catch his breath.

“Come to the lodge with me.
Please.
”

Thomas’s heavy exhale filled the carriage. “All right.”

Alexander blinked. “All right?”

“Yes. The hunting lodge. Tomorrow.”

He slanted his mouth over Thomas’s. The most exquisite joy drenched his senses. Thomas’s hands drifted down to palm his arse, long fingers tickling the crease, a wicked glimpse of what less than twenty-four hours would hold.

Then Thomas gave his arse a light smack. “Up with you now. I need to get home before dawn.”

Reluctantly, he shifted off Thomas’s lap, though he did not move back to the opposite bench. After repairing his clothes and pocketing his gloves from the floorboards, he gave the driver the order to return to Mayfair, to Charles Street, to Thomas’s parents’ house. The scent of sex hung in the air, much too heavy for his father to mistake it for anything but. So he opened the window a bit but left the shade drawn, not willing to lose the intimacy of darkness quite yet.

He settled against Thomas’s side and placed a hand over Thomas’s resting on his thigh. Thomas turned his hand over, gloved fingers sliding between his own bare ones. Such a simple luxury to be able to hold his hand, yet a luxury nonetheless.

Impatient lust sated, and confident in the knowledge he would have Thomas in his arms by dusk tomorrow, he soaked up the unprecedented opportunity to simply be with the man he loved. To rest his head against Thomas’s shoulder and to have his hand in his own without the threat of discovery breathing harsh and heavy down their necks.

There were no words between them. The silence companionable and perfect. The chill evening breeze rustled the shade, letting in glimpses of the golden light from the streetlamps as the carriage wound its way back to Mayfair.

The carriage came to a stop far sooner than he was ready. But there was nothing to be done for it.

He gave Thomas’s hand a squeeze. “Love you,” he whispered.

He resisted the urge to tighten his grip, to keep Thomas with him, as the man’s fingers slipped from his own. Thomas shifted beside him then firm lips brushed Alexander’s. Soft and light, the fleetest of touches.

“Good night, Sasha.”

Then Thomas was gone, the narrow door snapping shut behind him. The carriage lurched forward to take Alexander the few blocks to his parents’ town house. A smile curved his lips as the wait, the anticipation began to build.

Thomas had agreed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would have the man all to himself. And not just for a few hasty, stolen minutes or even the better part of an hour. But for hours. Many of them. One after another.

A chuckle of pure, giddy excitement shook his chest.

How the hell was he to get even a wink of sleep tonight?

Shielding his eyes from the force of the afternoon sun, Alexander looked left then right. “Turn right.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” He did not have to glance to Thomas to see the brow arched in disbelief. “I am certain. I remember that stone cottage.” He pointed in the direction of the cottage situated at the far side of a field. “That road will take us the rest of the way to Watford, though we needn’t go that far. The hunting lodge is a few miles south of the town. And yes, I’ve been there. Quite a few times.”

A flick of Thomas’s wrists and the team of two moved forward. Following Alexander’s direction, he turned the curricle onto the road. Another deft flick of his wrists and the horses slipped into an easy canter. “You’ve never mentioned a fondness for hunting before.”

“Because I don’t have one. My father’s the one with the fondness and it took until I was sixteen before he finally accepted the fact he could not turn me into a tolerable hunting companion. I don’t much care for rising before dawn,” Alexander added by way of explanation. “He’s since stopped asking me to join him and makes do with just my brother who happens to enjoy sunrises. Do you enjoy hunting?”

He had never thought to ask before, though he had no doubt Thomas would make an excellent hunter. The man had the patience, the steadiness of soul, the task required. Hell, Thomas could sit through hour after hour of lessons on philosophy and history and literature and never once complain about the numbing boredom.

Thomas shrugged. “I don’t really have much of an opinion on it. I go with my father and brothers when they ask me to join them. It’s simply something we do every autumn.”

“Just because they ask doesn’t mean you need to say yes. If you don’t enjoy it, you shouldn’t agree to go with them.” It wasn’t as if Thomas was still an adolescent. He was a man, well old enough to object without fear of a reprimand.

Thomas shrugged again. “I don’t much mind. It makes them happy.”

Typical Thomas. Always doing what was expected of him without thought to his own desires. But Alexander wanted Thomas to be happy. “You should do things for yourself every now and then. It would be good for you.” He certainly bowed his head and fell into line enough to deserve a spot of his own happiness.

“Really? And how do you term today?”

Alexander shifted on the bench, turning his shoulders toward Thomas. The man kept his gaze straight ahead, his attention on the horses as he guided them through a bend in the road, the leather lines steady and secure in his large hands. The wind ruffled the ends of his short hair. The golden rays of the sun caressed his features; the strong line of his jaw, the barest hint of his day’s beard, the fan of his lashes, the proper mouth pressed in a line of concentration.

Alexander swore his heart skipped a beat.

He’s mine.

A sigh expanded his chest.

And being with me makes him happy.

Amazing. So amazing, he could barely wrap his mind around the concept.

Thomas slanted him a glance from the corner of his eye. “Yes?”

Settling back on the bench, Alexander shook his head. He was surely grinning like a fool, but he did not care in the slightest.

Fields dotted with the occasional tree slipped by on either side of them as they traveled along the road. The sun warmed his shoulders and glinted off the horses’ coal-black coats. The chill wind held a definite bite and the threat of a cold night, but it wasn’t enough to make him regret taking the curricle. The weather was ideal for a December drive through the countryside. But what made the day perfect was the man sitting beside him.

In another couple of hours, they would reach the hunting lodge. And the perfect day would give way to an even more perfect night.

A shiver of anticipation gripped him. Grabbed hold and built with each passing second, with each easy stride of the horses. He wanted to push Thomas to press the team for more speed. The horses could take it, the road was in good condition, and the curricle was designed for speed. If the lines were in his own hands, he’d have the team in a full-out gallop. But he’d handed the lines to Thomas back in London and couldn’t very well yank them from his grasp now. And any efforts by him to push Thomas for more speed would be met with an adamant refusal.
It’s not safe.
He could almost hear the words now.

No bother. He had asked Thomas to drive for a reason. If Alexander recalled correctly, this stretch of road tended to be rather not well traveled.

He tugged off his gloves and stuffed them in the pocket of his greatcoat. Then he moved closer, until his hip pressed against Thomas’s, and reached under the man’s elbow. Doing his best to keep the wicked grin from his lips, he rested a hand on Thomas’s thigh. The heat from his body seeped through his buckskin breeches, immediately warming Alexander’s palm. The powerful muscles tensed for a moment then relaxed. Hopefully someday soon that reaction, the tightening of his body, like an instinctive flinch, would fade to nothingness. But he took comfort in the knowledge Thomas no longer speared him with a stare, as if he was shocking himself by allowing Alexander to touch him. Of course, it hadn’t taken Alexander long to turn those old stares into hoarse, desperate murmurs for more.

Exactly the sounds he wanted to hear right now. A prelude, so to speak, to later.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid his hand up Thomas’s leg, nudging the edge of the man’s greatcoat fully aside and allowing his fingers to curve inward to brush his inner thigh.

A tremor shook Thomas’s body. Alexander heard his hard swallow even above the sounds of hooves pounding against the dirt road.

“Sasha?”

“Yes?” He coasted his hand up farther, stopping just before he encountered the placket of Thomas’s breeches.

“Do you think that wise?”

“Yes.”

“We’re on an open road.”

“Yes.” A brush of his fingertips across the placket. The heavy bulk hidden within jumped, the jolt transmitting up his arm and landing squarely in his ballocks. He bit back the moan. “Have you seen any other carriages on this road?”

“That doesn’t mean there could not be. I am certain others have traveled this way before.”

“And I am certain you are correct, but there’s no one here now.”

“Sasha…”

He rubbed his cheek against Thomas’s upper arm in a silent plea, the dark fabric of his coat a soft drag against his skin. “Let me, Thomas. Let yourself enjoy it. If we spot anyone, I’ll stop before they even get close enough to see what we are about.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Keeping his touch light, a soft tease that could so easily become more, he traced the outline of Thomas’s cock beneath the placket then swirled a fingertip over the broad head. The length hardened, arching against the confines of the fabric, eager to be set free.

The moment Thomas spread his legs wider, bracing his booted feet on the floorboards, Alexander gave him more. He pressed his palm over the hard arch and curled his fingers around the rigid length as much as he was able, then slid his hand up and down in counterpoint to the rhythmic strides of the horses.

Thomas lifted his hips, pushing into his grip. A wince of pleasure crossed his brow. “
Ah
…Sasha. Your hands always feel so good.”

He couldn’t help but smile. It felt so amazingly wonderful to give Thomas pleasure. To know
he
was the one who had turned Thomas’s breaths ragged and made those gasps tumble from his lips.

Setting his teeth against Thomas’s upper arm, he stroked faster. The man’s grip on the leather lines tightened. Each breath Alexander took was filled with the scents of horses and leather, fresh outdoor air and Thomas.

With his other hand, he grabbed the edge of the bench, resisting the nearly unstoppable impulse to tug on the placket of his own breeches. To free his aching cock. He shifted, trying to find some trace of relief against the discomfort but there was none to be found. His erection pressed against his clothes hard enough to hurt. Yet he kept his hand at his side. He wanted Thomas to bring him to climax. He wanted his lover’s mouth on his, his strong bare body covering him. Wanted the cock in his hand to be buried deep within him as the release claimed him.

A wave of need almost overwhelmed him. Alexander squeezed his eyes shut but it didn’t help in the slightest, that image of Thomas naked and crouched above him etched in his mind. He groaned, the sound lost in the wind blowing past his ears, and pressed even closer to Thomas’s side, rubbing up against hard muscles and strong bones.

Thomas rocked his hips. Short, tight, familiar, almost frantic nudges.
“Sasha,”
he said, the plea clear in his tone.

In the blink of an eye, Alexander had the placket open and he was reaching inside, hand closing over scorching skin and leaning under Thomas’s elbow, his mouth on Thomas’s cock the instant he had the man free of his clothes.

A groan ripped from Thomas’s throat. Seed filled Alexander’s mouth. Heat and salt and man. The imminent threat of an orgasm clutched his own prick.

After swallowing the last drop, he pulled free. Head bowed between Thomas’s strong thighs, he gritted his teeth in an effort to push back the climax and not spill in his breeches like a green lad. Damnation, his ballocks hurt. But the pain and the wait would be more than worth it.

A hand rubbed between his shoulder blades. Large, slow circles that lulled the sharp, jagged edges off the lust spiking his senses.

“Sasha? Do you…do you want me to…?”

At any other time, he’d jump at an offer from Thomas to stroke him off. To feel the man’s large hand wrapped around his cock. Instead, he shook his bowed head, took a deep breath and pushed up to swipe his blond hair from his eyes. “I’m all right.” An exaggeration if ever there was one, but in a few minutes and if he kept his mind to bland topics, perhaps his prick would take mercy on him and realize relief would not be soon to come.

Thomas’s gaze swept over his face. Then he nodded. “Will you hold these?”

Alexander stared at the lines held out to him, the leather lax and without a bit of tension. He blinked then glanced about. The perfectly matched pair stood calmly in the traces. “We’re stopped.”

“Didn’t want to risk running your curricle off the road. What if we had an accident? Wouldn’t want to be found unconscious with my breeches undone.”

Alexander tugged his gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. “Might raise an eyebrow,” he said, taking the proffered lines.

A rueful smile dared to tip the edges of Thomas’s mouth. “Indeed.” He quickly repaired his clothing, tucking himself back into his breeches and straightening his greatcoat. His hand came up to check the knot on his cravat, but he needn’t have expended the effort. The neat Mathematical had not been the least disturbed.

Alexander handed the lines back to Thomas. He settled against the bench and tried to ignore the lingering taste of Thomas on his tongue as the man set the team to a smart trot.

The afternoon sun began to creep down the sky. At the sight of the small posting inn along the side of the road, Thomas suggested they stop for a bite to eat. Though impatient to reach the lodge, Alexander could not deny he was a bit hungry. Since his father hadn’t visited the lodge in weeks and would not think to visit again until after Twelfth Night and the holiday festivities were over, the pantry would be bare. He had managed to sneak a hamper with a couple bottles of wine, some bread and cured meat out of his parents’ kitchen, but it was likely best to save it for later that evening and tomorrow morning.

After a tolerable meal of kidney pie and a pint of ale, they were back on the road. The occasional carriage they passed required that he keep a respectable distance between himself and Thomas. Still, the bench wasn’t large and just fit two. He felt every casual brush of Thomas’s elbow against his own as if it were an intimate caress. Each touch ratcheted the anticipation, stringing his senses taut, until even the rumble of the carriage wheels against the road proved almost too much. The vibrations transmitted through the driver’s bench, tickling and teasing his ballocks.

“There. Turn right.” The words rushed out of his mouth.

With a nod, Thomas slowed the team and turned the curricle onto the narrow drive. Tall trees blocked the setting sun, their branches casting the long winding path in cold twilight shadows. Alexander crossed his arms, hunching within his greatcoat. The crunch of twigs and fallen leaves beneath the curricle’s wheels suddenly seemed unnaturally loud, echoing off the tree trunks lining the drive. A twinge of apprehension seeped into his belly, clashing with the heady spike of anticipation.

Thoughts of what the evening would hold had kept Alexander awake for most of the prior night. To have Thomas in his arms, as he had wanted him for so long… Every fantasy he’d ever had replayed itself in his mind. Kept his prick aching with need even after stroking himself off twice.

Soon, so very soon, those fantasies would be mere fantasies no more. All those vague bits, those unknown moments he quickly skimmed over in the heated rush toward a climax, would become startlingly real.

He wasn’t dim enough to believe there wouldn’t be a bit of pain involved. The thick cock concealed behind the placket of Thomas’s breeches barely fit in Alexander’s mouth, and it was going to fit…
there?
His muscles clenched in trepidation.

Hopefully those boys at Eton who had tried but failed to coax him into allowing them to bugger him had not been lying about the pain quickly turning into pleasure. Regardless, Thomas would make it wonderful. He trusted the man completely, and he wanted him more than he ever wanted anyone or anything.

He inched closer to Thomas. Warmth radiated off his body. Solid and strong and comforting.

He laid a hand on Thomas’s forearm. “Thank you for coming here with me.”

His attention on the horses, Thomas nodded.

The trees gave way to a small clearing. The hunting lodge wasn’t impressive by any means. His father went there to hunt in the surrounding woods and escape the activity of London, not to host large gatherings. Simple and unassuming, the two-story country house held only two bedchambers.