Shortbread and Shadows - Amy Lane Page 0,55

to make this decision.”

Bartholomew pulled away for a moment. “Wait. Am I still a virgin?”

Lachlan laughed into the hollow of his shoulder. “No! After this afternoon? No. Not even a little. I don’t care what you’ve had in your ass—or not—in my book, making love when you’re in love pretty much cashes in your v-card.”

The look Bartholomew gave him in the dark was proud and excited. “That’s true, right?”

“I’ve always thought so,” Lachlan said, wondering what was going through his mind.

Bartholomew’s happy, sensual smile was the best answer he could get. “Good. Then I don’t have anything to be afraid of.” He swallowed and reached for his end table. “I, uh, cleaned myself really good in the shower, you know. Just in case.” He thrust a modest bottle of lubricant into Lachlan’s hand as he said, “Oh, wait. Should I worry about condoms? I don’t have any.”

“Color me surprised,” Lachlan panted, still sarcastic. “I’ve got better than condoms. I’ve got eighteen months of celibacy in my past, and two clear test results in my backpack, taken in the last six months.”

Bartholomew tried to do the math and failed. “Why would you…?”

“Because a friend of mine was getting his, and he wanted company,” Lachlan said. His friend had been negative, but the company had been appreciated.

“You’re a good man,” Bartholomew said, kissing his jaw, and then his neck, and then his chest.

Lachlan kissed his mouth, fumbling with the lubricant and greasing up his cock as they kissed. In spite of all their activity that afternoon, something inside was driving him to possess Tolly’s slender body like this. Part of it was Bartholomew’s eagerness, but part of it was a little voice in his head that said to bind them together with as many threads, physical and emotional, as possible.

Lachlan had seen too much uncanniness in the last day to so much as think of ignoring that voice.

Bartholomew was hard already, thighs spread, feet propped on the bed. Lachlan slid between his legs, feeling surrounded by long legs and Bartholomew’s commitment to this, which was as strong as his own.

He tested with his fingers first, enough to hear Bartholomew’s happy moan and to realize he’d stretched himself already, hopeful, but still a little too shy to come out and ask for what he wanted.

That was fine. They’d get there. Lachlan found he wanted to please this man more than any lover he’d ever had.

As he positioned himself at Bartholomew’s opening and began to push, it hit him why penetration was such a big deal. He still believed Bartholomew’s virginity had been burned away by their passion that afternoon, but looking at his wide gray eyes, luminous and anxious in the darkness, he realized he was in a position to hurt this man—and Bartholomew was giving him permission to enter his body, trusting that he wouldn’t.

It was the same way Bartholomew had given Lachlan permission to enter his heart in Lachlan’s bed, under his roof.

They were equally courageous acts for someone so very vulnerable, and as Lachlan pushed forward, he brushed Bartholomew’s lips with his thumb, closing his eyes when his cockhead popped in, then opening them quickly to see how Bartholomew took it.

He’d tilted his head back, a look of acceptance washing his features slack.

“Good,” he mumbled. “Keep pushing.”

So Lachlan did, the world’s oldest rhythm taking over his hips, thrust and retreat, thrust and retreat, and the sigh of pleasure Bartholomew gave sent a new frisson of excitement up Lachlan’s spine.

A little faster, so he could hear Bartholomew moan.

A little harder to hear his happy, tush-wiggling whimper as Lachlan bottomed out. A little of both, sweat starting across both their brows, Bartholomew’s eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, to hear him beg for a little more, plead for a little harder, and scream loudly in climax, spilling his own hot seed between their bodies.

Lachlan spent next, burying his face in the hollow of Bartholomew’s shoulder and licking his neck and nibbling his ear, to touch him as they came down.

“You’re still inside me,” Bartholomew said dreamily, and Lachlan flexed his softening erection to stay there.

“Yes.”

“You’ll be there forever,” Bartholomew said dreamily.

“If I’m blessed,” Lachlan told him, relaxing and sliding to the side. “I love you, Tolly. I want to be in your heart forever.”

“Love you too,” Bartholomew told him, so happy and sated, Lachlan believed every syllable. “It’s like I needed you inside me all my life but didn’t know it until now.”

Dreams of Lovers Lost

BARTHOLOMEW shifted restlessly, Lachlan’s arm over his chest