Restored (Enlightenment #5) - Joanna Chambers Page 0,1

Kit stopped him.

“I like you with some clothes,” he said, and Henry grinned because he did too, when Kit was naked. He let Kit tug him toward the armchair Kit had been sitting in when Henry first arrived, let Kit unbutton his breeches and push him into the chair, landing with an oof of good-humoured laughter that turned to a groan as Kit sank gracefully to his knees.

Henry drew out his cock as he watched Kit fold his body down into the submissive pose. The strength of Henry’s desire was very evident from the stone-hard shaft and weeping, rosy head. Not to mention Henry’s hiss of almost pained pleasure as Kit leaned forward and took his thick cock deep into his throat. Kit loved the noises Henry made, and the sliding curve of his big hand as he palmed Kit’s golden head.

“Oh, Christopher,” he breathed. “You are so very good. So very beautiful.”

Kit’s moan in response was heartfelt. Because yes, this may be service, but it was still a pleasure. His pleasure and Henry’s both.

He stayed there, on his knees, for a good few minutes, enjoying Henry. Enjoying his lover. Henry, who had somehow become, in ten short months, Kit’s entire world. His keeper and master.

The master he could reduce to a begging heap with his mouth.

“Oh God, Christopher—stop,” Henry pleaded at last, “before I spend in your mouth. Let me inside you.”

Kit raised his head. Henry’s expression was abandoned, full lips open, cheeks flushed, dark hair in disarray. His big body was sprawled out in the chair like an offering. Kit loved that sight—loved to see this powerful, beautiful man dazed with lust.

Let me inside you.

He loved that Henry didn’t order him around, as though Kit was his slave. That he asked Kit for his favours, as though they were true lovers.

That when Henry said his name, it felt as though he was speaking of something—someone—he adored.

Scrambling to his feet, Kit clambered on top of Henry, straddling him so they were face to face. He’d oiled himself earlier in readiness for Henry’s arrival, and so it was that he only had to grasp the man’s shaft in his hand and lower his body slowly down, taking Henry’s beautiful cock into his body in a slow, undulating slide that had them both gasping.

“Kiss me,” Kit demanded once Henry was fully seated inside him, and Henry obliged, taking Kit’s mouth eagerly as his cock pressed deep and his strong hands settled on Kit’s hips, urging him to rise up and sink down on Henry’s thick shaft.

Kit was near sobbing with pleasure by now. Henry fit him so well. With each upwards stroke, the blunt end of his cock grazed that sensitive spot inside Kit that made him practically combust. He loved each brutal, tender stroke, and the scrape of Henry’s evening beard against his chin as they kissed. Henry’s strong fingers digging into his hips. The evidence of Henry’s passion would be written on Kit’s body tomorrow in pale blue smudges, and Kit gloried in it.

Henry tore his mouth from Kit’s. “Christopher,” he gasped. “I can’t hold back any longer. Let me see you spend. Please.”

Kit groaned and let his climax take him, his hand working his cock as his lithe body moved, his spend exploding from him in blood-warm pulses, spattering Henry’s chest and neck. And then Henry was coming too, his hands holding Kit firmly in place as his cock pumped seed into Kit’s body, flooding his arse.

They sagged against one another, foreheads damp, breath mingling as they panted. At length, as their harsh breathing quieted, Henry turned his face, kissing Kit’s cheek, and stroking his hair with a gentle hand. It felt so perfect—Kit had to bite his tongue to stop himself blurting out something foolish. Henry’s tenderness always did him in, these after-gestures so sweet they made his eyes sting.

At last, when he felt he had himself under control, he pulled back to look at Henry. Henry’s head was lolling against the back of the armchair now, and his smile was lazy, his eyes warmly contented.

“You look happy,” Kit said softly.

He wished he hadn’t spoken when he saw Henry’s smile wilt a little and his grey gaze cloud over with something Kit recognised as guilt. He knew that Henry loved their time together, but he knew too that Henry was devoted to his family… and that he saw his need for Kit as a weakness.

It made Kit afraid that one day, Henry would decide he should not

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