Chapter 007 Henry
Another dinner in bed.
Another tray.
Another meal cut into tiny pieces.
The rest of my life.
I stared at the empty plate.
Cook had been thorough. Not a single piece required two hands.
That did not sit well.
Percy returned. Closed the door softly.
“Isabella is asleep. Mrs. Fernsby believes the little one will sleep through the night.”
He removed his coat.
“That was a good thing you did. Hiring her as governess.”
I scratched my nose.
“Isabella is in good hands. Mrs. Fernsby has proven herself. Capable. And she respects me.”
More than most.
“Those qualities matter as much as her references.”
Percy moved to the wardrobe.
“You shall be here to watch over both of them.”
He returned in his nightshirt.
“You’re still a good man, my lord. Sorry. Henry.”
Still.
The word struck.
“Still?”
He shifted from foot to foot.
“You always were. Your London reputation—rakish, yes. But you never ruined anyone beyond repair.”
I glared.
“What reputation, precisely?”
He grinned.
“I shan’t repeat the tales. All ended when you went to war.”
His face sobered.
“That was brave.”
I rubbed my eyes.
“I might have continued my conquests on the continent.”
“Oh, really.”
One eyebrow rose.
“Well. Perhaps one day you’ll tell me.”
I shook my head.
“Those days are behind me.”
“And redeemed.”
He hesitated.
“You fought honorably. Against a tyrant. You helped save us all.”
“We declared war.”
“The despot.”
“Yes. That.”
I frowned.
“So many lives.”
“He would have reached our shores. His hubris knew no bounds.”
Percy waved a hand.
“You kept us safe. I will never forget.”
I was tired.
Bone-tired.
“And you still wish me in your bed?”
“Of course.”
I patted the space beside me.
He slid in after only a moment.
Gazed at me.
“What, Henry?”
“I enjoyed kissing you.”
Intimate words.
“I enjoyed kissing you.”
He smiled.
“Would you like to kiss again?”
“I felt I forced you. That you were obliged—”
“Hush.”
A finger to my lips.
“I chose. You needed assistance.”
“My missing arm.”
“Certainly. And you have needs.”
He paused.
“I assumed, in the army—”
“I did not.”
Others did.
I did not.
“Have you never…?”
His nose scrunched.
Adorable.
Should I tell him?
He would be my first.
“No. I have never.”
“Ah.”
His pale eyes widened in the candlelight.
“And you wish…?”
“Yes. I wish. I really wish.”
I might die if he did not kiss me again.
“Then you shall.”
He moved.
Hovered over me.
I lifted my arm.
Grasped his neck.
Pulled him down.
The kiss.
Deep.
Toe-curling.
Our tongues fought.
I grasped his hair.
Pulled.
His cock pressed hard against my hip.
I tried to shift.
To rub against him.
He held my thigh steady.
Finally ended the kiss.
Our eyes met.
“You frustrate me, Percy. Never doing what I want.”
He batted his lashes.
“You asked for a kiss.”
“I implied more.”
I scratched my nose.
“Are you going to make me ask?”
“Yes. Because suddenly you like kissing and—”
“I’ve always liked kissing. Some ladies were not interested.”
“That is not what I meant.”
His gaze held.
Serious.
“It hurts my heart to see you treated so abominably.”
To him I was just Henry.
The boy he fell in love with.
I blinked.
“What?”
“Because I have always loved you.”
He rushed on.
“As soon as I understood I was different. That I did not fancy women. That I wanted men. That I wanted you.”
I could not breathe.
“But I expect nothing. I am happy to be your valet. I shall take whatever you give.”
“You are far too good to me.”
Undeserving.
“Would you let me…?”
Realisation.
“Us?”
“Yes?”
“You?”
He nodded.
“Me?”
Another nod.
I had not stretched my mind this far.
Beyond kissing.
Beyond his mouth on me.
“I do not…”
“Ah, but I do. If I have permission.”
Do I dare?
My body broken.
Yet here was closeness.
To feel again.
To breathe.
To be myself.
Can I bring him pleasure?
Do I even know how?
“Keep thinking that hard, Henry, and you will talk yourself out of it.”
He grinned.
“I have all we need.”
He winked.
Need.
Oh.
Oil.
He slid from the bed.
Returned with a small bottle.
I cocked my head.
“To ease things.”
Practicalities I had never considered.
“Do you wish the light out?”
If out, I would not see his face.
If out, he would not see me.
He traced my scar.
“I found you beautiful twenty-five years ago. Nothing has changed. My admiration has only grown.”
He held up the bottle.
“Let me show you my appreciation. And perhaps, one day, you might show me yours.”
Terrified.
Intrigued.
“Perhaps.”
Another grin.
Heart-stopping.
“Ah, the pleasures awaiting you.”
Just so.
And nerves.
“I have considered the position least likely to pain you.”
I had not.
Until now.
“And?”
“If you lie on your uninjured side, bearing your weight, I might enter from behind.”
“Is that not how it is always done?”
“Other ways exist, my lord.”
Eyebrow raised.
“I intend to demonstrate all the permutations. Trust me—there are many.”
“I trust you.”
Words easier now.
Optimism.
Possibility.
“Then let me assist.”
He grasped my hip.
Gentle.
Encouraged me to roll.
My injured leg curled.
Twinge.
Gone.
He pressed against me.
Hard cock at the small of my back.
Fingers trailed flank.
Hip.
Thigh.
Rucked up my nightshirt.
Exposed skin.
“I need to ready you.”
“Yes.”
Scratchy.
“Yes, Percy. I trust you.”
Warmth in my chest.
No dread.
His fingers gone a moment.
Then cool pressure.
I sucked in breath.
“It will warm. Be patient.”
He chuckled.
Patience.
Never my strength.
Broken arm at seven.
Twisted ankle at eleven.
Impatience.
He pressed a finger inside.
I tensed.
Kiss to the back of my neck.
Shiver.
Farther.
I breathed.
Strange.
Then a second finger.
“Smaller than my cock. I will be gentle.”
“I do not want gentle. I need you.”
More than possible.
He chuckled.
Withdrew.
Empty.
Then his cock nudged.
Panic.
“Breathe, Henry. I will not hurt you. I will take care of you.”
He pressed.
Slowly.
It hurt.
Different.
Not bad.
Not good.
Yet.
“I am breathing.”
He chuckled.
Gripped my hip.
Farther.
My world narrowed.
Battle focus.
This one thing.
He withdrew.
Pressed again.
Deeper.
Into me.
Into my heart.
Finally stilled.
I adjusted.
“I need to move.”
“Yes.”
Forceful.
“I need you to move.”
He gripped.
Almost out.
Thrust in.
Over and over.
My heart raced.
His ardency.
The risk.
For me.
His hand left my hip.
Grasped my cock.
Rhythm faltered.
Then steady.
Thrusting.
Tugging.
Overwhelming.
I fought.
Inevitability won.
Spilled over his hand.
He continued.
Unrelenting.
Then stilled.
Breath harsh against my neck.
“My lord.”
I laughed.