Page 60 of The Devil Himself
He ran his hand over the tip of their cocks, his thumb pushing into the slit at the end of Luc’s, and that was enough to send Luc over the edge, his cry ringing out in the small room, his body convulsing.
Rys watched as long as he could, soaking in the beauty of his lover, but then Luc squeezed him just the way he liked it. Just hard enough to be on the edge of pain. Rys shot as hard as he ever had in his life, his whole body feeling as though it was focused on his cock and on the seed that fell from it.
Luc collapsed against his chest, cheek against his, rough with whiskers as they wheezed, out of breath. “Oh thank God.”
Rys chuckled, some of his good humor returned to him. “Don’t you mean the devil?”
Luc kissed him again although this contact was lazy and sloppy, just a slow thank-you of sorts. “Something like that, yes.”
Twenty-Six
By the time dinner was laid out in the formal dining room, Luc was beginning to think Arthur had fallen and died on the road or had decided better of coming after Gareth and was just going to leave for the continent along with Daffyd.
Then Deacon Collingsworth’s men had arrived, saying that Arthur was on his way. “I reckon he’s close enough, Devil,” one man said. “Not real bright. Should we dispatch him?”
“It was terribly tempting,” Rys told him before Gareth came down for dinner.
“But then he doesn’t pay for his crimes.” Luc sat at his place on Rys’s left. Rys had taken the head of the table. Luc wondered whether that would offend Gareth or not. He didn’t think so. The lad didn’t seem particularly interested in assuming his full marquess duties just yet.
“No, he doesn’t, and I need to make sure that we create an example for Daffyd to see just in case he ever decides to come back and make a second attempt.”
“Do you truly believe he had nothing to do with you being hurt and me being shot?”
“I think that his behavior encouraged Arthur to do exactly what he did. Daffyd is far more manipulative and smarterthan Arthur, but I do truly believe that he has something of a conscience inside him. We saw a glimpse of it when he came to the club. Still, I would much rather send Arthur to the magistrate.”
Luc tapped his fingers on the table, his mind racing. “It will cause a great scandal for Gareth and his mother, however.”
“Oh, my dear, you forget I control much of the underground, where the men of the Ton come to get their gossip and their opinions are formed. Between Dionysus and the Devil’s Playground, we will make sure that Hannah and Gareth come out as traumatically injured victims who are to be admired and taken into the bosom of society rather than to be rejected by them. I also have contacts at a couple of the biggest gossip rags. A few coins here and there will make sure that Hannah and Gareth are treated favorably while Arthur is made out to be the single rotten apple that fell from the family tree.”
Luc had to smile. “Of course you control the papers. And what of Hannah’s broken engagement to Julian?”
“Why, we will make sure that everyone knows that Julian was simply valiantly trying to protect her from her traitorous brother-in-law. He will come out as a hero.” Rys rubbed his knuckles on his jacket.
“I can see that you’ve thought all this through.” Rys always seemed to be at least two to three steps ahead of him, but then he supposed he’d really never had any need to perfect the art of manipulation or skullduggery or whatever Rys might call it. He would imagine that the word skullduggery had never fallen from Rys’s lips to be honest.
And he was rather intimately acquainted with those lips now, and of how they did all things, including speak.
A flurry of activity crowded the door to the dining room, footmen rushing into the room to stand at attention, the butler proceeding Gareth into the space so that he could hold his chairat Rys’s right. “Does the seating arrangement suit you, my lord?” Tyrell asked Gareth.
Gareth smiled faintly. “I find it most pleasing, Tyrell. You may serve the first course.”
Tyrell bowed and left the room with two of the footmen, and Gareth turned his stare on them. “Is it terrible that I want this over with? Where is he? What is keeping him?”
Rys tilted his head, appraising the young man fully. “I imagine he now knows you’re here under guard. Arthur is impulsive, but he is not completely without wits. I’m sure he has the lay of the land, and he’s trying to find the best way to handle the situation. I still think he will bluster his way into the house, or try to, but who knows if there are servants who are loyal to him here. Someone who might let him in should he manage to get a message to them. Even with all of the men that we’ve hired, you must be on your guard, Gareth.”
“I will be. I promise.” Garreth slid about restlessly in his chair. “The waiting is incredibly difficult, however.”
Luc smiled. “I understand. I find it the same way. It’s intolerable, but it’s important for us to make sure that there’s something we can hang on Arthur that will be worth the magistrate’s time. And we need copious witnesses. You understand this, correct?”
Gareth sighed. “I do, even if I don’t like it. I’m just glad Mother is not here. Her nerves have been so overset by all of this.”
Luc felt for the lad. He had been the heir his entire life, but since his father’s death, he had to feel a certain sense of helplessness, and that must chafe.
The soup course was served, and they all fell to it with a grim determination, each of them knowing that they would need their strength for whatever came their way.
The meal progressed in mostly silence, the clinking of spoons and knives on dishes really their only sounds, all of them knowing that Arthur must now be in the area unless he had given up. Which seemed unlikely given the intelligence that they had from the guards who had only just come to inform them of Arthur’s movements.
By the dessert course, Luc could see Gareth was done with this meal. He pushed his gooseberry fool around in its crystal dish, his nose wrinkling every time he tried to take a bite.
