The Mistletoe Kiss Page 8

  “I’d never get down there, not with my leg,” he said, but his voice was breathy.

  Christy let go of him and, never dropping Lawrence’s gaze, dragged the crocheted blanket from the back of the chair and threw it onto the rug in front of the range, then threw down the cushions and looked at him enquiringly.

  “Do you want to?”

  Lawrence licked his lips. Did he want to? Did he want to make love with Christy?

  He nodded.

  Christy’s eyes flickered closed in something that looked like relief. He stood, bathed in firelight, and proceeded to undress. Slowly. He removed his coat, his waistcoat, and then unwound his neck cloth. Lawrence could see the strong, naked column of his throat. He toed off his boots and stripped off his stockings. He stood there, barefoot for a moment, and then unlaced the strings on his shirt and pulled it over his head. Oh…Oh…he was beautiful. Sleek, slender; muscled. His arousal tented the front of his breeches, and when his hands went to his falls Lawrence made a peculiar sound in his throat, a half moan half cough. His heart was thundering so fast his head was spinning and he was so hard he…

  Oh God. Christy stepped out of his breeches.

  He wore no smalls, and then there he was. Completely, gloriously naked. Aroused. Soft fair hair trailed from his naval downwards, and his legs were dusted with that same softness. He moved to touch him, but Christy held up a hand that shook slightly.

  “Now you.” His voice wavered.

  Lawrence’s breath caught. “I’m…not sure that’s a good idea…I’m not…” He shook his head, grimacing.

  “I want to see you. Feel you. I’ve dreamed of holding you with no clothes.”

  Lawrence hesitated. More than anything he wanted to be able to stand naked and proud in Christy’s arms. Even more than his embarrassment at his own less than perfect body. He swallowed and took a breath. If Christy was brave enough to come here and find out whether or not there could be anything between them, brave enough to stand here, naked in front of him, then he needed to take himself in hand and offer something in return before Christy decided he wasn’t worth the bother.

  It took everything that he had to take off his coat and waistcoat in the way that Christy had done, but the look in his eyes was worth it. He unwound his cravat, and Christy’s gaze followed every move. He toed off his own shoes and stripped off his stockings, not quite as elegantly as Christy had done as he had to hold onto the chair to stop himself falling over, and then he unlaced the strings of his shirt, and with only a short hesitation, pulled it over his head. Christy ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed, making Lawrence feel ten feet tall, and grateful that he was slender too, and reasonably trim. Dark hair shadowed his chest unlike Christy’s bare skin, and Christy seemed to like it. His hands went to his breeches and he hesitated. His hip and leg were not quite right. Never had been, which meant he didn’t stand true like Christy did. It hadn’t mattered to his wife because they only ever came together in the dark, shielded by covers.

  But Christy moaned when he undid his falls, and his lips parted. When he took hold of them to push them down, Christy’s cock grew impossibly hard and began leaking.

  And he felt…handsome.

  “Oh, Christ,” Christy whispered. “Oh Christ, I knew you would look like that. Tall, hard…gorgeous…” He was breathing heavily. “I’m not going to last…”

  Lawrence laughed and it had a hysterical edge to it. “You think I will?”

  “Lie down.” Christy moved to where Lawrence stood and took his hand. “Lie down for me.”

  Lawrence got down, it was an uncomfortably awkward manoeuvre, but Christy waited patiently. When Lawrence lay on his back, on the rug, head on a cushion, stark naked, with Christy looked down at him with absolute adoration and what he could only describe as naked lust, his heart filled so full he feared he might weep.

  “Oh, Mr. Fenton,” he whispered.

  “Lawrence. My name is Lawrence.”

  Christy grinned as he lowered himself down. “Christy.”

  Lawrence wondered how this would work. Would Christy expect him to…oh…no…that was…Christy lay between Lawrence’s thighs and lined up their cocks. Feeling Christy’s slight, yet leanly muscled body and hard flesh against his own was…sublime. The weight of him was unspeakably good. He raised his legs and cradled him. His hip protested, but he didn’t care. Christy took his weight on his arms, dropped to his elbows, and rubbed his chest against him, moaning as he did so.

  “I love that you have hair,” he whispered, and Lawrence realised he was rubbing his nipples against it.

  He paused and looked down, moved a lock of hair from Lawrence’s forehead, and kissed his nose.

  “Kiss me, Lawrence. Kiss me like you will never let me go.”

  Lawrence’s chin quirked and he fought to bring himself under control. “I will never let you go,” he choked.

  “Lawrence,” Christy whispered.

  “Christy,” Lawrence said. It was the first time he had said it out loud.

  And then they were kissing. Like wild things. Deep, aching kisses that Lawrence felt to his soul. Christy pulled up his good leg and then ran a finger down his crease and moaned into his mouth. They pushed against each other, rubbing and thrusting until they found a perfect rhythm and then Lawrence was shouting his release and his muscles clamped tight on his bones and pleasure pumped through every fibre of his being. He held Christy tight. Heard his shout of completion as they clung together. Lawrence’s damp eyes were shut tight, his breathing laboured as he sank shaking fingers into Christy’s hair and blindly kissed the parts of him he could reach.

  Christy lay on top of Mr. Fenton, no, Lawrence, and could feel his heart thundering in his ears. He moved and looked down. Lawrence’s eyes were closed, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe they had just done that. It was the most wonderful…

  Mr. Fenton, Lawrence, groaned.

  “Am I hurting you?” Christy whispered, pushing up on one elbow.

  “No,” Lawrence pulled him back, wrapped his arms around him, and sighed. They squirmed about a bit until Christy could lay partly over him, with his head on Lawrence’s shoulder. Lawrence. Lawrence. He wanted to keep saying his name.

  “Are you warm enough?” Lawrence said, running his hand down Christy’s back and then caressing his buttock.

  “Mmm,” Christy nuzzled the hair on Lawrence’s chest and licked at his nipple, ignoring the cold draft.

  They lay for some time. Fingers softly tracing new flesh, kissing accessible parts, squeezing and sighing.

  “What is Christy short for?” Lawrence asked after a while.

  “Christopher. I had a younger brother and he couldn’t say Christopher. Christy stuck.”

  “Had?”

  Christy nodded, drifting his fingers across Lawrence’s chest as he stared into the fire. “He died when he was six. I was ten.”

  “I’m sorry.” Lawrence hugged him tighter. “Do you have other siblings?”

  Christy shook his head. “Do you?”

  Lawrence shook his head. “I did, but there is just me since my parents died.”

  “You were…married?” Christy said, then wished perhaps he hadn’t. Not really the moment to bring it up.

  Lawrence was quiet. Christy was learning to wait for him to speak. He seemed to like to get his thoughts together before he responded, particularly with regard to important things.

  “I was. It…was an attempt to push aside the feelings that I had for men. And, I wanted to settle down. Wanted a family.” He hesitated. “I lost my parents, four siblings…I wanted…needed.” He sighed. “I was tired of being alone.”

  Christy nodded and kissed his chest.

  “I married and we were happy after a fashion. Until I got her with child.”

  Christy looked up. Lawrence’s eyes were far away. His fingers still stroking Christy’s shoulders.

  “Her time came, and…and…” he swallowed. “I lost them both. My wife an
d my son.”

  “Oh, Lawrence,” Christy breathed. He pushed himself up and then moved so he could reverse their positions and take Lawrence into his arms. He allowed it, so Christy wrapped him up and held him. “How long ago?”

  “Ten years. I often wonder what he would have grown up like. If he might have been like me; looked like me?”

  “I wager he would be just like you. Handsome, clever, and kind.”

  Lawrence shifted so he could see him and gave him a quizzical look. “Kind?”

  “You are the kindest man I know.”

  Lawrence shook his head. “I am not kind. I am incredibly selfish.”

  “You took me in when I most needed it.”

  “Because I admired you. Wanted you. There was nothing kind about it with hindsight.”

  “Well, it worked out well because now you have me.”

  Lawrence smiled, and it chased the shadows from his eyes. “It would appear that I do.”

  “Happy Christmas,” Christy said, dipping to kiss him.

  “Happy Christmas,” Lawrence said, reaching up and stroking Christy’s cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  Chapter 10

  On Christmas Day, the streets were quiet and blanketed with snow. Christy looked out of the bedroom window, careful to stand back so no one could see him, onto the still dark morning.

  “What are you doing?” Lawrence’s voice was gravelly with sleep and it made Christy’s stomach flip. They had spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. Actually slept together in the same bed. Something Christy had never in his life experienced before with a lover. There was, he had discovered, nothing quite like waking in the morning wrapped around the naked body of the man he loved.

  “Looking.”

  “You will get cold, the fire’s almost out.”

  Christy pulled the curtains back swiftly and then jumped back into Lawrence’s bed. “I’ll see to the fire in a minute. There, I can see you now,” he said. And he could. Lawrence was naked. His strong shoulders were bare, as was his hair-dusted chest. Lawrence moved a leg so that it brushed along Christy’s, making his cock perk up. He grinned and pressed closer.

  Lawrence groaned. “God, the stamina of youth. You are going to kill me,” he said running a hand up Christy’s thigh.

  “Come on, old chap, you can keep up.”

  He was rewarded with a pinch to his backside. They had staggered to bed after their romp on the rug, awoken in the early hours and found each other again, and now Christy was aching for more. He wondered if the ache would ever stop. He hoped not. He tunnelled under the blankets and slid his leg over Lawrence and straddled him, holding the blankets up with his shoulders. He propped a hand either side of Lawrence’s head and waggled his eyebrows as he looked down and saw that Lawrence was fully, beautifully aroused.

  Lawrence’s smile spread into a rakish grin that looked well on him.

  “You should smile more often,” Christy said.

  “I smile plenty.”

  “No, you don’t. Nowhere near enough.”

  “I have a feeling that I will do now.”

  Christy leaned down and kissed him. “Good.” Christy wriggled a little and kissed his way down Lawrence’s neck, and then nibbled his collarbone, which made his hips squirm. He licked at his nipples and that made him gasp. He kissed his way down his stomach to his navel and Lawrence’s breathing became sharp and rapid. Christy grinned to himself as he picked up Lawrence’s hard prick and squeezed it. Lawrence moaned and writhed.

  “Can I suck you?” he said, glancing up Lawrence’s body.

  Lawrence lifted his head from the pillow and stared down, mouth open, eyes wide. “Yes…yes…Please…oh…Oh…”

  Christy took him into his mouth and Lawrence shivered all over. Christy laved at him with his tongue and sucked the best way he knew how. He rolled his balls in one hand and then let his fingers trace the velvety soft part behind them that led to his pucker and then pressed gently. Lawrence bucked and grabbed Christy’s head, pulling him off.

  “I’m going to…” He was breathing as though he had run all the way around London. Twice. Christy was beginning to realise that his gorgeous lover was not as experienced as he thought he might have been.

  “Do you have anything slippery?”

  “Slippery?”

  Christy nodded and pressed against his pucker again. “Or you could do me?”

  Lawrence’s eyes were on stalks. “I’d rather you…” he blurted, then swallowed hard. “I’ve never…”

  “Oh love,” Christy whispered.

  Lawrence cast frantic eyes about the bedroom and then stopped. “There, it’s the salve for your bruises. Will that do?”

  Christie slid off the bed and picked up the pot Lawrence was staring at as though his life depended on it. He opened it and rubbed some between his fingers. He was fairly sure it would. “This will do, but…Lawrence, it can hurt first time.”

  “I don’t care. I need…Christy, I need…”

  “Shh,” Christy said and crawled back into bed. He would be the gentlest that he could.

  “Roll on your side,” he whispered, but Lawrence shook his head.

  “I want to watch you. See you.”

  Christy’s heart thumped. He hesitated, then opened the jar and scooped up some with his fingers. He spread some gently onto Lawrence, making him flinch and swear. Christy was so close to the edge himself he wasn’t sure that he would be able to do it right, so he got onto his knees, took Lawrence’s prick in one hand and swallowed him down, then pressed gently with his slick fingers until Lawrence’s body yielded and he could slide gently inside. Lawrence was hot. Tight. Frantic. Christy swirled his tongue around, and added another finger. A high-pitched moan came from Lawrence so Christy plunged in and out, simulating the act, and then paused to find the soft, sensitive spot inside that would send Lawrence to the stars. He found it, pressed and rubbed it, and sucked him deep. Lawrence exploded with a howl that reverberated around the room.

  Christy swallowed him as best he could, then sat up and tugged himself until he spent all over Lawrence’s chest with a yell, making Lawrence gasp again.

  They collapsed together.

  “Next time,” Christy whispered. “Next time I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”

  Lawrence huffed a laugh beneath him. “Can’t walk straight anyway.”

  Christy nuzzled in his neck and they both laughed uncontrollably. “Silly sod,” Christy murmured between kisses.

  Lawrence ran his fingers over the paper and string on the parcel before him on the table, wondering if he had time to hide it again before Christy came down. Was it too soon? Too much? The decision was taken from him when he heard Christy thunder down the stairs. He took everything at a run.

  He wore nothing but breeches and a shirt loose at the neck. His hair was messed by the times Lawrence had combed his fingers through it, and his neck had a purple bruise, presumably from where Lawrence had licked and sucked at him. God, he still couldn’t believe the things they had done. Christy was so incredibly enthusiastic in bed. He’d never known the like of it. He’d made Lawrence feel beautiful, desirable, wanted, needed…and no one had ever achieved that before. Ever. The marital bed had been a clumsy, awkward affair, and the couple of times that he had indulged with a man had been hurried, guilty, and squalid. He’d certainly never been loved in the way that Christy had loved him.

  “Good morning,” Christy said softly as he slid into the chair opposite him. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding at the parcel.

  “It’s…It’s…ah…a gift. A Christmas gift for you.”

  Christy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t get you anything.” He looked horrified.

  “Of course not, I never expected you would, but this is…this is something…I often wondered…thought we might…”

  “Lawrence, just spit it out.” Christy was smiling at him now.

  Lawrence’s couldn’t speak so he just pushed the parcel
at him.

  Christy took it and started unwrapping it with a cautious smile. He took out the legal document first and frowned at it. He opened it and read, frowned some more and then put it down to look at the set of drawings beside it and his eyes opened wide and his jaw actually dropped.

  “What?” he whispered. “What?” He looked up at Lawrence, a dazed expression in his eyes.

  Lawrence’s hands were shaking. “Christy, if you were a woman I would be begging you for your hand.” He paused and sucked in a breath and rubbed his chest. He dared a glance at Christy who appeared frozen. “I can’t do that, so I am asking you to be a partner in my life. For all of my life. Forever.” He held his breath. It was too soon. Too soon.

  Christy’s eyes filled. “But this. What’s this?” He gestured to the documents on the table.

  Lawrence cleared his throat and carried on despite his misgivings. He couldn’t stop now. “I can’t make a…a…public declaration about being your partner, or give you the protection of my name, but I can make you a partner in my business, make it our business. This—” He gestured at the legal document. “This, once signed by us both will make you an equal partner, and will offer a measure of security for you should anything happen to me, and this,” he said, indicating the artist’s drawings showing the front of the shop and Lawrence’s proposed new sign. “This is the sign I will have made.” He risked a tentative smile. “Fenton and Shaw. Purveyors of Fine Books.”

  He swallowed.

  Christy stared, and then put his face in his hands.

  Lawrence froze for a second, then he was on his feet. “Oh, Christy, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we don’t have to not if you don’t want to…oof.” He caught Christy in his arms when he stood and threw himself into Lawrence’s arms.

  “Thank you,” he choked.

  Lawrence took it as a good sign and held him and rocked him until the storm passed.

  They sat down again, and Christy wiped his face and blew his nose. He looked blotchy and red, but to Lawrence’s eyes he was perfect.

  “Oh, Lawrence,” he whispered. “Yes. Yes, to everything. I want nothing more than to be a partner in your life. For all of your life. The shop…that is…” Christy sighed. “Just perfect. Thank you.”