Chapter 8
Two cocks fucking his hand was exactly what Sebastian needed.
It was hot and fast and necessary, and judging by the way Maurice clung to his flesh and kissed erratically, Maurice was very close to the edge.
Sebastian wanted them to come together; it would prove their physical equality which was about as close he was going to get to actual equality.
He wanted this standing up, because he didn’t want to lie on the Duke’s bed, knowing it was a Duke’s bed, and have to deal with all those pesky niggling thoughts about class that wouldn’t go away.
“Sebastian.” Maurice’s rough voice rumbled over his cheek.
“Yes?”
“You promised me a fucking.”
He blinked. When he’d said that they would fuck, he’d assumed that Maurice—being a Duke—would want to do the fucking.
Damn. He really wanted to shove Maurice on his ducal bed and fuck him until they both cried out.
He wanted that surprisingly fit and attractive body underneath him.
At least for their first time. After that, he didn’t care; he liked it all and he was greedy enough to want it all.
“Do you have oil?” Sebastian would rather use that than his spit, although that would suffice if needed.
“I have several.”
“Several?” What the heck did that mean?
“Cook makes herb infused oils, like the nursery rhyme, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.”
Sebastian laughed and shoved Maurice onto his bed. Hard enough to leave a reddened mark on his chest.
“Why is that funny? It’s practical and they smell nice.”
“I’m not a lamb roast, your Grace.”
Blotches of colour slashed across Maurice’s face and his expression changed a few times.
“No. No you are not.” He pushed himself off his bed, muscles rippling, and opened a drawer to reveal a collection of small glass bottles.
“Please pick the one you like the best. There is also lavender, rose, marigold, or angelica, since the idea of kitchen herbs makes you uncomfortable.”
If Sebastian didn’t know better, he would’ve assumed he’d hurt the Duke by laughing.
Maybe he had. People didn’t often dare to laugh at a Duke to their face, and for a second, Sebastian held his breath.
He had never done that before either, and suddenly he wanted to turn this around and make Maurice laugh.
He’d never seen it. In all the years when they’d sat in his office, investigating pedigrees, going through the season’s matches, talking about the foals, naming the young horses, and deciding on trainers, Maurice had never lost that stiffness about his shoulders and jaw.
An odd scratching sound pulled Sebastian out of the moment.
“Not now.” Maurice slipped easily back into ducal mode, or maybe he never left it, as he spoke to whoever was on the other side of his bedroom door. Sebastian wanted to gift him with that release. “I hope you don’t mind me cancelling your cheese.”
“The last thing I want right now is cheese, your Grace.”
“Please don’t call me that in here. We are simply two men together.”
Nothing was ever that simple—his entire cottage could fit into this bedroom—but for now, Sebastian could try and ignore their differences.
He made a show of leaning over the drawer and investigating the bottles of oil, feeling Maurice’s hot gaze on his skin, eventually selecting one which reminded him of the hedgerows in spring with a fresh combination of elderflowers and violets and roses.
And then he turned to Maurice who had propped himself up on his elbows, as if he needed to watch Sebastian, as if he couldn’t help the curiosity and Sebastian breathed out slowly.
Maybe he was right and they were simply two men wanting pleasure together, and all the rest of the world could wait.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked.
Maurice nodded, then whispered. “Yes.”
“Good.”
The blotchy patches had faded and now colour returned to Maurice’s face.
“Good.” Sebastian repeated himself since Maurice seemed to like it, and Maurice groaned.
Sebastian leaned over him. He held the bottle of oil in his left hand and used that hand as balance, and with the other he wrapped it around Maurice’s neck and kissed him.
He would never get accustomed to this; kissing Maurice and knowing that he could make the stuffy uptight Duke groan and moan like this.
From that first surprising kiss in his cottage to this, Sebastian would never get enough of kissing Maurice, and judging by the way Maurice strained to lift his hips and thrust his cock against Sebastian’s body, he liked it too.
He dragged his fingers down over Maurice’s throat, spreading his hand wide over Maurice’s chest, all the while kissing him, but eventually he had to break the kiss so he could stand and have both hands free.
He unplugged the cork on the bottle of oil and poured a dribble onto Maurice’s chest. The scent of spring flowers filled the air.
He used his hands to spread the oil over Maurice’s pale skin, enjoying the feel of his muscles under his hands, and slowly he traversed his way down over Maurice’s stomach, adding a bit more oil as he went.
“Sebastian Wildgoose. Please.” The roughness in Maurice’s voice saying his name sent heat flashing over Sebastian’s skin.
“Do you want this?” He grabbed his cock and gave himself a couple of hard strokes, deliberately crude.
“Yes.” Maurice lifted his heels onto the edge of the bed, spreading himself for Sebastian, and damned if it wasn’t the best thing Sebastian had ever seen in his life.
Maurice’s hard cock leaking and his balls all tight, with his hole simply begging for attention.
He leaned over again, pressing his body against Maurice in a searing full contact, and kissed him hard.
The moan Maurice made should’ve set Sebastian hair alight, it was so delicious, and there was some additionally special about knowing he could do this to Maurice.
Sebastian’s fingers trembled a little as he poured more oil into his palm.
Maurice helped him replace the cork, fumbling a little and then he tossed the bottle aside.
“Do you want me now?”
“Yes, damn it. I need you now.” Maurice’s throaty plea nearly had Sebastian spilling right there and he had to squeeze the base of his cock to regain a little control, before he used the oil in his hand to massage Maurice’s hole and prepare him.
“Sebastian, please.” Maurice fell back on the bed, his hair in disarray and his mouth open. “Please.”
Who was he to deny both of them? And with Maurice begging for his cock, Sebastian guided himself in, pushing past the ring of muscle into the perfect tight heat of Maurice’s body.
Maurice cried out and once Sebastian was buried inside—so incredibly good—Maurice let out a long sigh and his body relaxed underneath Sebastian.
All it took for the Duke to come undone was a fucking.
What a glorious sight. Sebastian lifted up Maurice’s hand and kissed it, and Maurice frowned, making Sebastian wonder if anyone had ever taken the time to care for Maurice.
The man had an entire staff who fussed over him and did everything for him, but when was the last time someone cared for him as a man?
When was the last time someone treated him like an equal partner, wanting nothing from him but his pleasure?
These were odd worries while his cock was buried inside Maurice, and he distracted himself from them by moving.
“Oh God. Sebastian. Just like that.” Gooseflesh broke over Maurice’s skin as Sebastian thrust slowly, and then Maurice grabbed Sebastian’s forearms. “Harder. Faster. Ruin me.”
The command was softened by the gravel in Maurice’s voice and the soft flush over his cheeks, and Sebastian felt like a king as he fucked the Duke just like he asked. Maurice clung to his forearms, fingers digging into Sebastian’s muscles, and he loved it.
“Sebastian.” One cry of his name was all the warning, Sebastian got as Maurice came in long strands over his chest, his body jerking and tightening around Sebastian who was so close.
So damned close, it would take only one more thrust into Maurice for him to follow his lover to completion.
He stared at Maurice, spread and wrecked on his bed, and damn it, the shimmer of a tear at the corners of his eyes was the final straw and he lost control, thrusting hard into Maurice until sweat dripped off him, mingling with the scent of the oil, and all he could hear from the slap of his body and Maurice’s breathing and the unsteady thump of his own heart.
The shock of his finale hit him like a double-barrelled kick to the chest, coming so hard that his vision filled with bright lights and it wasn’t until he was slumped on top of Maurice that he had any awareness of his surroundings.
He floated, delirious, completely aware of every nerve in his body, and yet disconnected from reality as if the only thing in the entire world was Maurice and the way his body cradled Sebastian.
His anchor between the greatest release he’d ever had and the world.
“You were worth waiting for.” Maurice whispered in his ear, and the little nibbles and kisses were too much.
Sebastian wanted to stay forever, and he wanted to run far away, all at once, and everything intensified as Maurice stiffened underneath him.
Gone was the man begging for Sebastian’s cock, replaced with the Duke, and Sebastian hated the way his instincts made him want to call Maurice by his title again.
Couldn’t he have a few more minutes to absorb this moment?
He didn’t want to be dismissed as having done his duty while his cock was softening inside Maurice.
“How long have you been waiting for me?” He shouldn’t ask such a vulnerable question.
“Forever.” Maurice kissed him. “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”
God. Sebastian shuddered. If reality wasn’t beating on the door of his chest, Sebastian would let himself believe that forever was possible.
In this moment, when it was two bodies connected and enjoying themselves, he could almost—almost—convince himself that this was all the mattered.
But he couldn’t. He swallowed back the next questions; was he worth the wait?
And what now? Did Maurice want this again?