He grins. “Yep. I told them it was your first day.”
“First and last.”
“Wow! Are they all caught up?” he asks, gazing around at the full tables.
I nod and grab his arm to tow him out of the tea rooms. “Yes. Simon says they’re fine, so you’re all mine for a bit.”
He follows me, laughing. “What’s lit a fire up your arse? Can’t you tell me what you want to talk about?” He looks around the empty courtyard. “We’re all alone.”
I shake my head stubbornly. My father would probably have approved of saving time while proposing, but then this was the man who tried to propose once in a solicitor’s office while offering his potential bride a prenup to sign. He’d seen it as not having to waste time getting another appointment. The king of romance, he was not.
“No,” I say firmly. “I want to be completely alone.”
A gleam appears in his eyes. “Oh, I see now.”
“Do you?” I ask nervously. “What do you see?”
Grabbing my hand, he begins to tow me rather forcefully towards the house. Once we’re inside, he takes a quick look around and then leads me towards the study.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he opens the door and pushes me through, following closely behind. I turn just in time to see him lock the door.
He grins lasciviously at me and starts to unzip his jeans.
“Oh," I say. "Oh. No, I didn’t need you for that.” I pause as he throws his polo shirt cavalierly over the sofa. “I don’t know whether to be scandalized or turned on,” I observe.
“Can you be both and quickly?” he mutters as his jeans follow his shirt, leaving him clad in tight red briefs. They cup his cock lovingly and make his pale skin glow.
“Okay, I’m caught up,” I say quickly as he comes towards me. “I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“What does that even mean?” he asks, the edge of my shirt in his hands. I look at him in confusion. “I mean, when in history has there ever been a horse who went around giving people presents. I’m sure I’d remember hearing about that at school.”
I whip my shirt off myself as he’s obviously too busy contemplating the meaning of the universe. “Isn’t there a tour going on?” I ask, hoping to prod him into action.
His eyes refocus on me. “Yes, but I think we’re fine. June does the Great Hall and the study first and then takes them upstairs.”
“You think, or you’re sure?” I ask dubiously.
He grins, dragging my face down so he can kiss me. “About seventy percent sure,” he whispers against my lips.
“It's the thirty percent that's causing me trouble.”
He gives me a filthy grin and reaches down and nimbly opens my jeans. He fists my cock. “Not that much trouble, love. You seem to be rallying fast.”
“That’s me,” I grunt, all my attention on his long fingers circling the ruddy length of my prick. “I’m a rallier.”
Oz kisses me again, and before I can give any thought to the fact that we’re completely naked in a room that’s part of a tour, I’ve backed him up against the wall, and I’m kissing him as if Oz-kissing has been rationed for years. I strip off his briefs and throw them somewhere behind me. He winds his legs around my waist and groans into my mouth.
“Yes,” he moans, pulling his head back for some much-needed air. “Fuck. I need you inside me. It’s been too long.”
I grunt as I rub against him, feeling moisture bead my cock, and my head swims. I want to point out that it was actually this morning, but my words have gone, as the blood flows quickly away from my brain. I hold my fingers up to his mouth, and he gives me a sultry look as he licks and sucks on them. I manoeuvre him slightly so I can reach his arse and he cries out as I rub my fingertip over his little hole. It’s pale pink, the same colour as his nipples, and he grunts as I gently insert the tip of my finger.
“Do it,” he gasps. “I need you so bad.” The Irish lilt in his voice is heavy.
I shake my head. “I am not using spit for lube. It’ll hurt.”
“I don’t mind a bit of pain.”
I grin at him, feeling love run through me suddenly. “During sex, you’re fine, darling, but it’s the after when you’re