Page 53 of To Defend a Damaged Duke
LEADING TOMMY TOhis bedchamber, washing them both clean—even taking it in turns to piss—then pulling aside the counterpane and slipping under together felt the most natural thing in the world.As though all the pieces of himself were finally aligned and working together.As if his head, his heart, his lungs, hands, and cock—even his feet, tangled with Tommy’s—were thinking, doing, feeling, thumping,reachingtowards the same harmonious thing.
Tommy reclined against the pillows while Benedict fiddled around like a maidservant until he was quite comfortable.Now, he lay on his belly beside him, pillowing his head in his arms whilst Tommy’s hand rested on his nearest arse cheek, petting it.Benedict had believed the happiest moment of his life had occurred a half hour earlier as he’d lain over Tommy on the billiard table.Already, this one pipped it.
He reached out to finger the commonplace key hanging from a thin silver chain around Tommy’s neck.The metal had a warmth to it from lying next to Tommy’s skin.
“Is this the key to your heart?”He curled it in his palm, and Tommy closed his hand around Benedict’s.
“No.”Tommy sounded amused.“You already have possession of that.And have done for many a long year.”He accepted the brush of Benedict’s mouth against his.“Even though, this evening, you have kissed my lips sore.”
Benedict traced the line of them with his thumb, and then, because he could, and they were his, he kissed them again.“They are superlative.I cannot resist.”
He tapped Tommy’s ribs with the key.“Then it must be the key to a treasure chest.”
Tommy’s deliciously reddened lips curved.“Of a dull sort.It unlocks my desk, containing my accounts ledgers for all my businesses.”
“My lover is a rich man!”declared Benedict, grinning.He imagined Tommy’s accounts were meticulous.And if he was fishing to unearth more about his lover and his extraordinary past, then he wasn’t sorry.
Tommy raised an eyebrow.“All things are relative, Your Grace.Though Rossingley and I enjoy expanding our little empire.”
“Rossingley has fingers in many pies.He continues to make large profits from his cotton mill.”Benedict hesitated.“But he has experienced sadness, too, I think.Like you.”
Tommy’s fingers walked up Benedict’s back, counting the vertebra one by one and then, as carefully, down again.He seemed lost to his thoughts.
“Rossingley saved my life,” he said softly.“And then he became my lover, and after that, he supplied most of the capital for my first investment.”His finger tapped at the base of Benedict’s spine.“And now he has Kit, and I have you.”
Benedict turned the key over before letting it drop.“May I ask how?How he rescued you?”
Tommy’s eyes slid in his direction.“Through pure chance, would you believe.Nothing more.The day of the raid, chance led him down Vere Street.He was making a detour; a carriage had overturned in Margaret Street.His own rode by as I was being dragged in cuffs out of the Hart.Though he had never visited, he knew of the place and what it was.Then, because he’s kind and decent and one of our sort, he arranged my release as soon as he was able.”Tommy’s fingers recommenced their slow count.“He bribed someone for a paltry sum.”Staring up at the ceiling, again, he blew out a long exhale.The cool breath ghosted over Benedict’s spine.“My life was worth a mere three guineas.”
“I have spent more this year on treats for Nimbus.”
“Last season’s cravat fetched almost as much.It was still around my wrist when I was carted off.I sold it to a tailor.”
Kings, queens, and dukes be damned.Chance was the real monarch, reigning overall.Even the mighty floundered in a sea of it.An ugly thought penetrated Benedict’s mind, and he immediately hated himself for it.
“Did you become his lover out of obligation?”
Tommy gave a soft laugh.“God, no.I didn’t see him for several months after that.His wife died; he was occupied with the estate and his children.Though he kept tabs on me from a distance.His valet, Pritchard, used to appear every now and again to make sure no harm befell me.”
“How did you live?Did you…?”Benedict had a feeling he already knew the answer.
“Yes.When I had to.I stole things too.But then I joined a theatre troupe—an actor I befriended introduced me.They were looking for a pretty boy to play the role of a starving young girl.”He barked a laugh.“I was half-starved and my hair long and unruly; very little acting was required.My career treading the boards continued from there.I accrued a little blunt, Rossingley watched a performance, we rekindled our acquaintance, and, well, here I am.An idle gadabout in a duke’s second-best hunting lodge.”
A decade of pain and struggle concertinaed into a handful of sentences.Benedict wouldn’t press for more, not now.One day, perhaps.Instead, he rolled on top of Tommy, pulling him into his arms.“A man as courageous and beautiful such as you deserves all the good things life has to offer.”
Tommy slipped a hand around Benedict’s neck, playing his fingers through Benedict’s hair.“Pretty words, Your Grace.”A sly smile tilted his sublime lips.Cupping his mouth around Benedict’s ear, he whispered.“But they mean nought until you tell me I’m your very special pomegranate.”
Benedict snorted with laughter.He straddled him, pinning him to the bed.“Yes!You are my most special, my most perfect pomegranate.”He laughed again at the joyful folly of it.“Hard on the outside, Tommy Squire, but by God, your seed is succulent!”
“And you are a ridiculous, starry-eyed fool.”
Benedict swooped down for another taste, and even more capricious flights of poetic jabber filled his head.Ones he’d die clutching to himself rather than share with his lover and risk making even more of a cake of himself.But there they were, buzzing around his head like bumble bees drunk on nectar—whimsical nonsense itself.How else could his mind interpret the delicious rush to his cock and the ache in his ballocks?
“Make love to me,” Tommy murmured as their mouths parted.Hunger gleamed in his blue-grey eyes, and Benedict’s swarm of bumble bees scattered as his belly lurched with pleasure.“Spill your seed inside me.For weeks, there has been nothing I have desired more.”
“God, yes.But you must show me how.”
“Your body will know how.”Tommy held Benedict’s face in his palms.“For men as in tune as us, it is as natural as breathing.”His eyes flicked to bedside table.“We have hair oil, do we not?”
