Chapter 4
Hugo wasn’t sure how Earnest knew to tell him that he’d followed the rules.
It broke his heart and mended it all at the same time.
He hated that someone might know what had happened to him, but there was something so incredible about having the reassurance that he’d done the right thing.
If he followed the rules, he wouldn’t get punished.
He’d spent his entire childhood telling himself that until it became part of him.
Last time with Earnest—the only other time he’d ever done this—Hugo had been frantically overwhelmed by the newness of the experience that he’d barely registered the way Earnest had talked encouragingly all the way through.
This time was better. Different. Earnest had teased while he’d encouraged him.
“What do you mean?” He had to know the rules.
If he wasn’t so attracted to Earnest, he would’ve asked first because he always needed to know the rules.
The idea that being with Earnest—this time and last time—had overridden his instincts to understand what he had to do was more than he had the capacity to figure out.
Why? No, he couldn’t let himself think about that.
Earnest shrugged. “Let me clean us up first.”
Was that a rule? He didn’t want to ask. Earls were supposed to know things.
He’d trained his whole life to be an Earl; the exact sort of Earl that his father wanted him to be.
Powerful, masculine, and in control. Willing to marry the right sort of girl—nothing less than a proper Lady with a fortune—for the sake of the Earldom.
It held no appeal for him, unfortunately.
Earnest’s gentle care as he used a damp cloth to wash the sticky mess off Hugo’s stomach made him ache.
No one had ever done that for him; his father employed sadistic nannies who enjoyed enforcing his father’s rules the same way as his father had.
It’d been partly why he’d thrown Earnest out the first time.
Being cared for was foreign, too much, and here he was again.
Earnest kissed him on the forehead and he squirmed.
Was this just for him, or was Earnest like this with all his lovers?
Yes. If he thought about other lovers, he wasn’t going to make this into something it wasn’t.
“Some people have a lot of rules for this type of thing. Some men only like to partake in virgins to make sure they don’t get diseases, but there are better ways to prevent disease than the abuse of young boys and girls.
Others like to talk about what they will and won’t do, and it’s important to have that negotiation. ”
“Negotiation?”
Earnest shrugged. “Some people like to make these things sound like rules, but it’s really just part of the main conversation. There is only one rule.”
“Which is?”
“Everyone has to say yes before something happens.”
He didn’t understand. “And if they don’t?” He couldn’t imagine Earnest forcing someone to say yes.
“Then nothing happens.”
“Oh. Is it that simple?”
Earnest nodded. “It is for me. As you said earlier tonight, I like people to like me, and so that’s my rule. I’ll only do something if we both want it. Maybe or no means I’ll stop.”
Hugo closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. For most of his life, he’d begged his father to stop, promising to be better, and his father never stopped. “You did that before when I said stop. You just stopped.”
“Yes.”
Hugo’s heart twisted in his chest, aching with the knowledge that it was possible to have someone listen to him when he said stop.
Now that he was the Earl, people did what he asked all the time, but that was respect for the title, not about him as a person.
This felt different. He knew that Earnest would’ve kept going—wanted to keep going—and yet he’d stopped when Hugo had asked.
It mattered. Heat burned behind his eyes and he stared at the far wall to prevent a hot tear from falling. He couldn’t say any of that.
“I like your rule.”
Earnest kissed him softly, just a press of lips, and then he rested his forehead against Hugo’s and just stayed there, staring into his eyes with a gentle expression. What was this feeling?
“Come to bed with me.” Earnest’s whisper confused him.
“We are already in bed.”
“Yes. Now we can sleep, and you can ask me more questions in the morning.” Earnest kissed him once more, then rolled over and started fussing with the blankets until they were both tucked in.
Hugo didn’t understand how Earnest knew that he had more questions, but perhaps Earnest was right and they could wait until he’d slept.
Earnest leaned over and blew out the candle, removing the last vestige of light in the room.
Hugo was quite tired, so he rested on the pillow and closed his eyes.
For once in his life, his brain didn’t immediately invent catastrophes to keep him awake half the night.
It still took a while to drift off, but waiting for sleep was calmer than usual.
Hugo woke to the sounds of the maid lighting the fire in his room which was nothing unusual except for the man sound asleep next to him in his bed.
The glow of light from the fire added a promise of future warmth to the room.
The maid, Annie, worked quickly and didn’t look his way and for once he was glad for her training because the idea that someone on the staff might know that Earnest had slept in his bed all night made him shudder.
Once more, he had to remind himself that the staff weren’t going to tattle to his father about him, and over the past seven years, he’d slowly replaced his father’s staff with new people.
People who didn’t remember the old instructions.
As soon as he’d inherited, he’d immediately sacked those who’d assisted his father in his ways.
It was selfish, perhaps, because service jobs in big houses were sought after and not the easiest to get, but he couldn’t have them around knowing that they’d been his jailers and they’d helped his father to . .. act like he had.
Earnest made a little mewing sound and tucked himself against Hugo’s body.
Hugo flinched, staring wildly around the room, but Annie had already left.
He tried to relax. There was a beautiful man in his bed, one who’d willingly kissed him, and no one knew about it.
He was—probably—safe here, at least for a short time.
Sanjit, his valet, knew better than to wake him after a dinner on a big race day like the St Leger.
Slowly he breathed calm into each muscle, easing out the tension in his shoulders and stretching out his body.
Earnest flung an arm over Hugo’s chest and wriggled closer.
Hugo gasped as he realised the hard length of Earnest was pressed against his back; it said something for his state of anxiety that it’d taken him so long to notice.
He wanted to rock back against Earnest’s length, to feel the friction of him on his skin.
It would be so easy to shift slowly, rubbing his spine and ass against Earnest, except .
.. There was the rule Earnest had mentioned.
He could only do something if Earnest said yes.
“Say yes to me.” He whispered, embarrassed, against the back of his hand. Earnest groaned and hugged him tighter. Was that yes? And then Earnest kissed the back of his neck.
“Are you awake?” Earnest grumbled.
“Yes.” He rolled over to face Earnest and was immediately enveloped in a kiss.
It was a gentle good morning of a kiss, sleepy and slow, as if Earnest wasn’t quite awake yet, a bit like a dream.
He never knew that waking up with someone could be like this, simply because he’d never done it before.
His father had taken him to brothels when he was old enough, but he’d used the privacy of the room to give the women money and just talk.
They always seemed happy to talk to a too-young anxious boy who’d been forced to be there by his father.
Over the years, he had a few favourites, Jane, Harleen, Sarah—women that he considered friends—and he'd helped them buy their way out of the houses where they worked, setting them up with their own property and lives. He still visited on occasion, not for relations, just to talk to each of them because he didn’t really have anyone else he could talk to with such confidentiality.
“Do you ever stop thinking?” Earnest pulled away from the kiss.
“Not really.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He wanted to protest—he hadn’t said anything out loud—but somehow Earnest knew that he’d been stuck in his memories. Just for a little while, Hugo could pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist and it was simply himself and Earnest together in the warmth of his bed.
“Would you like to try?” He paused, swallowing ... unable to say the words out loud.
“To impale myself on you?” How did Earnest say such things without a worry?
“Yes.”
“I would. Do you have oil?”
“Oil?” Hugo hated the wave of ignorance that prickled the back of his neck. Not knowing things spelled danger, but Earnest was gentle with him, breathing against Hugo’s neck.
“It makes it more comfortable for me, especially because you are huge.”
“I am?”
“Surely you must know?” Earnest made an odd noise, snuffling against Hugo’s neck, as if he were trying to bury a laugh against Hugo’s skin. He didn’t want to ask what Earnest meant because this seemed like information an Earl should know. Shouldn’t he?
“Lord Horden, you possess a magnificent cock. One of the best examples I’ve seen in my life.”
His skin was too hot. Prickly. “Have you seen many?” Even his voice was tight.
“Some. None like yours. I could write poetry about it.” Earnest chuckled softly. “I have written poetry about it.”
Hugo couldn’t breathe. He wanted to know but he really, really, didn’t. “You’ve...”
“Written poetry about your penis, your cockstand, your glorious johnson? By gosh, I have written so much.”
“Has anyone read it?”
Earnest blew out a loud breath. “Hell no. Some things aren’t meant to be shared.”
Hugo swallowed. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe he could be incredibly brave. Or curious. “Would you share it with me?”
“You want to read the poems I wrote about you?”
Hugo stiffened, unable to help it. “They are written down?”
“Yes. In my private journals.”
“But someone might read them?”
Earnest snorted. “I don’t think there is much of an audience for them.”
“Why not?”
“His trousers hid the glory
Of a thick cock most ample
A mouth might stretch around it
And a cunt or ass should sample.”
Hugo didn’t get it. “Huh?”
“What about? I miss his thick hard length, I miss his rigid smile, I miss the way he spurts, long strings across me. I want his ... Never mind, these are terrible. I can’t make poetry this early in the morning.”
“I don’t understand. I thought this was from your journal?”
Earnest laughed, a loud barking noise. “No. I can’t remember any of those. They were probably sappy about broken hearts and the inability of mending myself.”
“You said you wrote about my ...”
“Oh, I did. Probably in very purple prose, waxing lyrical about the rigid display of manhood, stiff and glorious, leaking like ... no, with desire. Ohh and something like stretching your trousers tight with the raw length of masculinity, welcoming me, beckoning me...”
“Don’t stop.” Hugo wanted Earnest to keep talking. It didn’t even matter what he was saying, but the way he played with words, and the shimmer of joy dancing in his gaze as he made fun of himself was beautiful. Could he call a man beautiful?
“That was terrible.” Earnest kissed Hugo’s cheek. “Fun, but terrible. I speak so much nonsense before I’ve had breakfast. Someone should stop me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Kiss me. Stop me talking. Fill my mouth with yourself. Please. I can’t bear my own incompetence.”
Hugo gulped. He wanted but he also didn’t want Earnest to stop talking. There was something delightfully fun about it, something free, and he desperately wanted to be free.
“Earnest. You are not incompetent.”
“No?”
“You are ... infuriating, fun, free.” Everything he couldn’t be.
“If I annoy you enough, you could always kiss me to keep me quiet.”
But he didn’t want Earnest to be quiet. “Would you like a kiss?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” And then Earnest kissed him and he forgot about the rules or about his father, or anything he was worried about before, because kissing Earnest was more than any of that. Better than anything. For the first time in his life, Hugo didn’t want to get out of bed.