Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Is it because I’m fucking Niall? I have to have a holiday because of that?
Milo
He’s gone when I wake up the next morning, and when I slide my hand across the bed it’s as cold as if I dreamt him being here. However, when I move in the sheets, I can smell his woody scent and it makes me smile a little. I wonder what time he left.
Shaking my head, I slide out of bed and hiss when my feet hit the cold floor.
Servants’ quarters in old houses are notoriously cold and this is no exception.
It’s a miracle no one died of hypothermia.
I bolt into the bathroom and turn the shower on.
It heats up quickly, which is a blessing, and I sigh with pleasure when I climb under the spray and feel the hot water sliding down my body.
I twist and turn under the spray, letting my mind wander.
I can see marks on my body that are subtle mementos of the last week.
Tiny fingerprint bruises on my hips where he grabbed me, impatient in his need to come.
Red marks over my nipples where he licked and sucked and bit.
My cock stirs and I groan, reaching down to fist it.
I reach up and squirt some soap into my palm and then, making a tunnel of my fist, I start to shuttle my cock through it, twisting my hand as I get to the top.
A montage of memories, explicit snapshots flit through my head and I marvel that the wild-looking man in them is me.
It’s been a revelation to me, having sex with him.
I come away from it sated but with an undercurrent of needing more underneath.
More kissing, more sucking, more coming.
It’s like I have a previously unknown engine inside me and it’s constantly idling.
Even when I’m spent, I’m inventing reasons to get there again.
I’ve never been less than half hard all week.
I reach back and feel between my arse cheeks.
I trace a finger delicately over my hole, shuddering at the silvery pleasure that runs through me.
He hasn’t fucked me yet. I’ve held out against that because my only memories of this are pain and tearing and as such, I’ve tensed every time his hand even goes near my backside.
However, he’s kept at it, tracing a fingertip there when I’m fucking him, tracking my taint while he blows me, and slowly he’s getting me used to having his fingers there and even wanting them.
I wonder what it would feel like to have him fuck me. To have him over me, all that big body bearing down on me. The image is so vivid I groan and shout out, coming in long creamy ropes against the shower wall.
I rest my hands against the tiles as I pant for breath.
I wonder whether that means I’m ready to try anal sex again.
I frown. Maybe I won’t get the chance. I remember his words as I slid away from him and into sleep.
My brother hasn’t spoken to him yet and I know where Niall’s loyalty lies.
He may be enjoying this with me but it’s temporary, no claiming words uttered, no declarations of fidelity.
The only thing stopping him would be me, and I’ve never expressed a wish for a relationship with him beyond what we’re doing.
Do I want that after all? The thought stops me dead, but I shake my head crossly and stop the shower. No more thinking.
Finally, dressed in jeans and an oversized scarlet jumper which I’m sure used to belong to Gideon, I clatter down the stairs and towards the dining room. When I enter it’s to find Oz trying to feed Cora while Silas gathers his vet’s bag and coat together.
“Morning,” I mutter, crossing to Cora and dropping a soft kiss on her forehead. She crows happily at the sight of me and offers me the spoon she’s been banging on her highchair.
“No, thank you,” I say. “You have it back. You make far more noise than I ever could.”
“That’s a fact,” Silas says, wincing as the banging recommences. He crosses over to Oz and kisses him goodbye. I avert my eyes and focus on getting my breakfast from the side table. When I turn back, he’s standing back up and Oz’s mouth is swollen.
I shake my head. “Have a good day, Silas.”
He smiles, no doubt because for the first few years here I’d struggled to call him anything except Lord Ashworth.
It had seemed at the time that my security lay in being polite and keeping him happy.
I’d learned that he was actually made happy by being treated normally, and now he exists in some way as my older brother.
“I’ll be back late,” he says, patting my shoulder and looking back at Oz.
“I’ll wait up,” he says steadily, and Silas gives him a warm, loving look before ducking out of the room, rapidly followed by Boris the dog. I set my plate down on the table and sit, looking at Oz.
“You okay? You look like you’ve got something to say.” I pause. “Not that you don’t always look like that. You have so much to say.”
He raises his middle finger at me. “I actually have something very important to announce.” He pauses as if listening for an invisible drum roll before shrugging when it doesn’t come. “Silas and I think you should have a holiday.”
“ What? ”
He nods happily. “You did us such a favour with Cora and it’s been so hectic lately and you’ve worked so hard.”
“Why now?”
“Milo, I think you’ve got about three years of holidays stored up. You never stop.” He looks at me. “We just think that maybe you should slow down for a week and it’ll refresh your brain.”
“Is it because I’m fucking Niall? I have to have a holiday because of that?”
“I personally would recommend a stay in a lunatic asylum, but that’s just me,” he says pertly, and my lips twitch.
Taking that for the sign of encouragement it will undoubtedly turn out to be, he presses on.
“We’ve actually given the two of you the same week off.
What a coincidence. I can’t imagine how that happened.
Maybe the two of you could go away together. ”
“Oh my God,” I sigh, resting my head in my hands. I look up at him through my hair. “You’re giving us both a week off and expect us to go away together. How does that even work? Are you forcing him to take me away for romance and drinks by the sea?” I pause. “How would you even do that?”
He blinks. “It’s a week’s holiday, not The Love Boat .” He smirks. “We’re giving you a week off at the same time. Whether you go away together is nothing to do with us.” He looks around as if making sure Silas has gone. “ Nothing ,” he whispers fervently and spoils it by winking at me.
“You look like you’ve got a squint,” I say gloomily. “It’ll never work out anyway. He won’t take a week off. He loves ploughing those fields too much.”
“Maybe he can plough your field. Maybe he’ll find out that he prefers seeding your crop if you actually go away for a week together.”
My mouth drops open. “I don’t think I’ve heard a sentence like that since my grandmother made me watch Dale’s Supermarket Sweep .” I throw my napkin down. “I’m going to get back to my restoration. Because long-dead people in pictures are a lot less problematic than the living ones around here.”
I’m just heading out of the back door and dragging my coat on when I hear my name being called. I turn to find Mrs. Granger approaching with the figure of her five-year-old granddaughter, Molly, dancing around her.
“You okay?” I ask as she nears me. Her hair is dishevelled and her face is redder than when she bends over the ovens in the tea rooms.
“Oh, Milo, can I ask a huge favour?”
I smile at her. “Of course. What’s up?”
She looks down at my coat. “Are you going out?”
I wind a big red and black striped scarf around my neck.
“Only over to Niall’s.” For some reason, I redden, and her eyes linger on my flushed cheeks but she doesn’t say anything.
Seizing the reprieve I rush on, and I mean rush on.
I actually babble. “Not because I want to see him. No, definitely not. Ha! Because that would be ridiculous. No, it’s because of the pictures.
I’ve got some pictures to restore. They’re over in his house because that’s where I’m working on them.
Not because his house is so cosy. And not because I live with him.
Good grief, as if I’d live with him.” Her eyebrow rises slowly and I come to a stop, sweating profusely. “Phew!” I mutter and her lip twitches.
“Well, that’s lovely,” she says bracingly.
“Would it be possible for you to watch Molly for a bit?” I open my mouth and she rushes into speech before I can say no.
“It would only be for an hour. She stayed with me last night and her mum’s car has broken down and it’ll be an hour before she can get here.
I’d keep her with me but the man’s coming to repair the big oven today and I’ve got to grab him while he’s around.
He’s so difficult to get hold of.” She looks down at Molly who is doing a headstand against the wall.
“She won’t be any trouble,” she adds rather doubtfully.
I smile. “Of course, it’s fine. I’ll keep her down there with me. She can colour or something.”
“Oh, thank you, Milo. You’re such a good boy.”
She thrusts a small purple rucksack at me before I can change my mind and backs away. Calling to Molly to follow me, I wave goodbye. We’re a few steps away when Mrs. Granger calls me. I turn back.
“Niall eh, Milo? I must say I approve. Big handsome lad you’ve got there.” She winks and laughs, rushing off and leaving me open-mouthed.
I look down at Molly, who is trying to let go of my hand subtly, then I look over at the field of sheep she’s eyeing. “Nope,” I say cheerfully. “You can run free in the woods, not amongst the poor old sheep.”