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Lord John and the Amenable Spy

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Grey tapped lightly at the door, and it opened almost immediately. He set down his hat, took off his coat, and enclosed Neil in his arms, kissing him soundly. The tension of the last few days drained from his body as he poured his relief into Neil with the touch of his cool fingers on Stapleton’s stubbly cheek and the resounding smack of their lips against each other. Neil fumbled with John’s stock and neck cloth, then dug his hands under Grey’s shirt, sliding them up over his chest and hardening John’s nipples with the caress of his palms. Grey backed the blond man up to the wall and pushed against him with all his tightly packed power.

“Hallo John,” Neil breathed, his fingers unbuttoning Grey’s flies. “Did the case end successfully, then?”

“Yes. And now I want you as my prize.” He grabbed both of Neil’s wrists in one long hand and raised the man’s arms over his head. “No touching. Not yet.” He sucked Neil’s right earlobe into his mouth and smiled at the squealing sound he made.

Pressing the captured wrists roughly against the wall, he used his other hand to pull open Neil’s breeches and reach inside. “I will have you. When I’m ready.” The words were soft in Stapleton’s ear. He could feel John’s hot breath against his neck.

Neil pushed hard into Grey’s hand. He couldn’t speak—wouldn’t—but needed to urge him on. John was teasing him now, lightly stroking, then letting go. Then the major dropped to his knees, releasing Neil’s wrists, and touched his tongue to the wet tip of Neil’s stiff cock. Neil’s hands went to John’s head, untying the ribbon and digging his fingers into the thick masses of Grey’s hair.

After a minute, John stood up, removed the last of his clothing, and sat down on a nearby straight-backed chair. His blue eyes were dark with desire and demand, pulling Neil to him wordlessly. Neil stood in front of him, facing away, and Grey parted the blonde’s arse with both hands. He licked long and hard and then turned Neil around abruptly. Stapleton straddled his lap, took hold of John’s cock, and aimed it where it needed to go. With one strong thrust, John was inside him, his hands on Neil’s narrow hips as their bodies moved together. Their eyes locked. Neil pushed against the floor with his feet, raising himself up and down in a quickening rhythm. He grasped his own member in one hand, but suddenly Grey pushed him off.

The lord was restless tonight. He wanted to have Neil from every possible angle, and he didn’t want to explain himself. He took Stapleton’s hand and walked to the bedroom, tumbled onto the still-rumpled sheets, and pulled Neil with him. They were on their sides now, and Grey turned his prey until he fit neatly in front of him, like a puzzle piece needing to be slotted home. He entered Neil again, keeping one hand on the man’s bicep and one hand on his hip. John’s mouth sought skin. His wet lips found Neil’s shoulder and his teeth nipped at it as he moved inside him, relishing the sound of Neil’s moans. Stapleton was stroking himself again, faster now, panting with urgency.

“Not yet.” John stilled him with a firm hand. He rolled onto his back, pulling Stapleton with him. The weight of the spy on top of him made him breathless until Neil sat up, spreading his thighs over Grey’s hips. The beauty of the young man’s back filled John’s sight as Neil rode his cock, groaning in bliss. Grey lifted his shoulders off the bed to touch him, letting his fingertips fall down over Neil’s back like soft raindrops. “Now,” he whispered, and Neil took hold of himself again. John grunted as they both finally erupted with pleasure. He wrapped his arms around Neil’s muscular chest and squeezed him gently, then lay back on the mattress. “Thank you.”

Neil’s lips curved in a cynical smile. “You’re welcome. Is that all you came here for, then?” Not expecting an answer, he got up and poured them each a glass of wine. He handed one to Grey, who savoured the liquid, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing.

“No, that isn’t all.” He sat up with his back against the wall and patted the bed beside him. Stapleton sat, a brow raised in question. John set his own glass on the bedside table, then took Neil’s and did the same. “I wanted to be with someone who…understood me…” He shook his head at the insufficiency of the statement. “I wanted to be with you.” He leaned forward, traced the blond’s bottom lip with a forefinger, then pressed his open mouth to Neil’s. Their tongues met, tasting of cherries and pepper.

They kissed until their lips were sore and Neil opened his eyes to look at John’s, watery and bloodshot from the strain of the day. “You’re tired.”

He left the room but returned minutes later, carrying a washbasin, which he set beside the bed, and a large flannel, which he spread over the bedclothes. “Come,” he prompted, and John stretched out on his stomach, resting his head in his folded arms. Neil reached into the basin and pulled out a wet cloth, wringing the excess water from it with two hands before smoothing the warmth over Grey’s back. He repeated the process until John’s skin was warm and damp, then reached into the basin again, producing a bar of soap that he rubbed onto the cloth. He washed John tenderly all over, and the comforting scent of honey filled the air. Grey felt his tense, aching muscles relax. The healing marks from his brothel adventure stung no more and he felt himself drift off under Neil’s soothing touch.

He woke a few hours later, now covered by a thick, soft blanket, and turned his head. Neil was beside him, breathing deeply, his golden locks falling over one cheek. Dawn was creeping in through cracks in the shutters, but Lord John was too sleepy and satisfied to care. Inching closer, he draped an arm across Neil’s bare shoulder and pulled him close. Neil’s eyelids fluttered without opening and he smiled. Huddled together, they slept in warmth and comfort, unconscious of the sun as it rose fully to herald the new day.

The End