“Take my cock out,” Kit breathed. “Suck it.”
Henry did as he was bid, his fingers working frantically to open Kit’s breeches and gently extract his painfully hard cock.
He licked a stripe up the shaft, from balls to tip, then swallowed Kit down, taking in his whole length.
“Oh God!” Kit groaned, palming the back of Henry’s head. “Yes, like that.”
He let Henry suck him for several minutes, then grabbed a handful of Henry's hair and pulled him off.
“Such a good boy,” he breathed. “Will you serve me tonight with your cock?”
Henry seemed to shudder all over.
“I want it inside me,” Kit added lewdly. “So get your clothes off.”
Henry’s cheeks flushed, grey eyes glittering with pleasure as he clambered to his feet.
Kit rose too, and they both quickly undressed.
“Lovely,” Kit said, walking around Henry once he was naked, admiring the powerful planes of his body. “Are you ready to serve me?”
“Yes,” Henry whispered.
“Good,” Kit said, smiling. “That’s what I like to hear.” He strolled over to the bureau and removed the bottle of oil from the top drawer that he’d stashed there earlier.
On his way back to the chaise longue, he picked up Henry’s shirt, tossing the linen down on the sofa before he laid himself down on top of it. “You can wear this tomorrow,” he said. You’ll smell of my spend.”
Henry moaned and Kit laughed softly. “Come here. I want your tongue on my hole.”
Eyes shining with lust, Henry dropped to his knees and moved closer.
“Hands behind your head,” Kit said lightly. “I want to see you work for this.”
Henry groaned again but he did as he was bid, clasping his hands at the back of his neck as he inched forward.
At the first touch of his tongue, Kit sighed with pleasure and spread his thighs further apart. “Yes,” he moaned. “Just. Like. That.” He dropped a hand to his cock and began to lazily tease it, rubbing the head with his thumb, then stroking the length.
Henry’s eager tongue was exquisite against his sensitive rim, dipping inside, hot and squirming.
Ah fuck.
After a while, Kit tugged at his hair.
“All right you lovely beast,” he said hoarsely. “I want you inside me now.”
Henry let out a groan that was abjectly grateful and clambered up onto the chaise longue while Kit opened the oil and covered his fingers, liberally spreading the warm, viscous liquid over his already quivering, desperate hole.
“You too,” Kit breathed, reaching for Henry. He loved the easy glide of his oiled hand over Henry’s desperately hard shaft, and Henry’s gasp of pleasure at his touch.
“Come on, then,” Kit said when he was done. “Let’s get that lovely big prick inside me.”
But when Henry reached for his hips, Kit gave him a quelling look.
“Ah-ah,” he admonished. “Let’s keep those hands out of the way.”
“No, Kit, please,” Henry begged.
“Oh, but yes,” Kit said. “It will help you concentrate on my pleasure rather than your own. Come on. Hands behind your head again. I’ll help you get in.”
Henry groaned almost painfully this time, but he did as he was told, linking his hands at the back of his neck while Kit took hold of his shaft and lined him up perfectly to sink deeply into Kit’s warm, welcome heat.
“Yes,” Kit hissed, throwing his head back as Henry sank inside him. “God, yes, like that. Fuck me.”
Henry did his best.
Without his hands for purchase, he was all at sea, trying to give Kit what he wanted with powerful punches of his hips, his expression hazy with lust.
Kit lifted his legs, pulling his thighs back with his own hands, splayed and open and needful.
“Yes, right there,” he panted. “Pound me hard, Henry.”
And Christ, but Henry did, as best as any man could with his hands out of the way.
“Good boy,” Kit gasped, insinuating a hand between them to grasp his own cock and begin stroking it in time with Henry’s thrusts. “Fuck me, Henry. Make me spend.”
Henry redoubled his efforts, hips snapping, chest heaving, eyes glittering—and Kit came like a fountain, his eyes rolling back in his head as the world went grey for long, blissful moments.
When he opened his eyes, he smiled, taking in Henry’s flushed, desperate face, hard, bobbing cock, and the hands that were still clutched behind his neck.
He opened his arms and smiled. “Time for your reward. Come here.”
Relief suffused Henry’s expression as he lowered his arms, then draped his big body over Kit’s smaller one, carefully keeping his weight off Kit.
Kit wound his arms and legs about him, rubbing himself against Henry’s hard length.
“Fuck me,” he whispered against Henry’s mouth. “I want to feel your spend leaking out of me when you’re done.”
Henry’s moan was deep. He wasted no time, pulling back his hips and adjusting his angle to sink deep into Kit’s body.
Kit was sensitive still, but he didn’t care—he wanted this. Wanted to welcome Henry into his body and give him pleasure. Wanted to reward him for the pleasure Henry had just granted him with his willing, perfect obedience.
Henry was close already, so it wasn’t much more than a minute before his thrusts began to stutter. He pushed deep, holding Kit close as he emptied himself, mouthing his throat and moaning low as he came, long and hard.
They lay entwined for several minutes after, breathing slowly returning to normal as Henry’s cock softened and their mingled spend dried stickily between them.
Kit sighed contentedly. “I wish I’d known this was how you liked it when we were first together,” he murmured into Henry’s ear.
“I could say the same to you.”
Kit laughed softly. “True. Did you know back then?”
Henry lifted his head and met Kit’s gaze. “Back then, I couldn’t even admit it to myself, never mind to you.” He shook his head, regret in his soft grey gaze.
Kit’s heart ached, but it was a joyful sort of ache. The pain of the past was still there, but it was part of the joy of the future. What they had once lost, they had now regained, and this time they were older, wiser, kinder men.
Kit had once despaired at how much he loved Henry—the young god who looked certain to crush his heart.
Who had indeed done so.
But this Henry was a man that Kit could trust with his heart. This Henry was a man who had already set his own bruised heart on a silver tray and handed it to Kit, without knowing what damage Kit might do it. Trusting that Kit would not hurt him, but willing to be hurt if it came to that.
This Henry—softer, more vulnerable, and entirely less godlike—was so very much stronger than he had once been. So very much braver.
Kit laid his hand against Henry’s cheek, meeting his gaze.
“Better late than never,” he whispered, smiling.
Henry’s answering smile was sweet.
Epilogue
Kit
Avesbury House, June 1827
14 months later