Page 14 of The Last Crimes of Peregrine Hind
And then Peregrine’s breeches were unbuttoned and his cock was free, heavy and tumescent and pointing at the ceiling. Alexander’s exhales shivered over the sensitive skin of Peregrine’s shaft, sending bolts of sensation right through his body and making him swell even more. The skin stretched over his crown was so tight that it shone in the firelight.
His captive gave him a wicked grin. “I think you might need this.”
Peregrine grunted. He did, but this was the last person whom he should take it from, and—oh God. Alexander’s tongue ran a wet stripe up his cock and Peregrine nearly fainted. With another wicked grin, Alexander bent over him and took him into his hot, slick mouth.
Peregrine had forgotten. Fuck, he’d forgotten. How it felt to be inside a lover’s mouth, and how much better it was than his own perfunctory hand. He’d forgotten everything else that came with a moment like this—Alexander’s gorgeous hair spilling over Peregrine’s lap, and the soft noises he made as he sucked, and the flirtatious flicks of his gaze up at Peregrine, as if to say, See? See? Aren’t I so good at this?
He couldn’t be sure if it was his hatred of the Darthams or concern for Alexander that made him press his fingers under Alexander’s chin and force Alexander to pull away from his work, but whatever it was, it twisted inside Peregrine like smoke off a bonfire, billowing and thick. “This doesn’t change anything,” he told the younger man. “This won’t change anything.”
“It won’t?” Alexander asked innocently. His lips were wet and slightly swollen from pleasuring Peregrine, and Peregrine couldn’t take it anymore.
He leaned forward to kiss his kidnapped rake.
Alexander’s mouth tasted of wine and sex, and it was so sweet on Peregrine’s tongue, so silky and inviting. Alexander’s tongue fluttered gently against Peregrine’s, almost like he was surprised, and then he whimpered as Peregrine deepened the kiss, plundering Alexander’s mouth like it was a chest of valuables stashed under a carriage seat. He stroked his tongue against Alexander’s and then bit gently at his lower lip before pulling back.
“I’m not going to set you free, no matter how good you suck me.”
“Hmm,” Alexander said, a sly curve to his mouth. “Maybe not. Maybe you’ll decide to keep me instead.”
Before Peregrine could figure out how he felt about that idea, Alexander’s hair was spilling all over Peregrine’s lap once more, and his tongue was doing something incredible around his slit, and then Peregrine was inside Alexander’s mouth again, feeling pressure and suction and wet, wet heat.
The peak that gathered inside Peregrine’s belly was ferocious and frightening—the kind of peak that would tear through him like a musket ball if he let it. And he was going to let it, because Alexander had been right: he was very, very good at this.
Just as his thighs tensed, Alexander looked up and met Peregrine’s eyes. In the dim room, the dark sapphire of the rake’s gaze was nearly impossible to make out, but Peregrine still had the strange feeling that he was seeing the color of something very important.
Something like the color of happiness itself.
His cock swelled against Alexander’s tongue and began pulsing seed deep into his throat—which Alexander seemed to relish swallowing, because he didn’t stop until Peregrine’s cock was completely sated, and Peregrine was drained of every last drop.
Peregrine’s head dropped back, his heart beating fast, his body trembling. Never, not even in a soldier’s tent on the Continent, had he been so expertly and enthusiastically pleasured.
Alexander knew it too, because when Peregrine finally looked back down at his captive, there was a smug expression on his lovely face.
“Told you,” Alexander said.
“You did tell me,” Peregrine agreed, turning to the knot that held Alexander’s bindings to his chair. Alexander watched him with the smugness fading into confusion, and then he laughed as Peregrine stood up and swung him over his shoulder.
“I didn’t even have to escape this time to get carried off by my big, bad highwayman,” he teased as Peregrine grabbed a candlestick with his free hand and then strode into the sacristy.
He dropped Alexander unceremoniously onto the bed, then set the candlestick down. “Clothes off,” Peregrine said. “If you’d like.”
“Oh, I’d always like,” Alexander purred. “I only have one request.”
Peregrine slanted him a look. “Softer sheets? Better wine? Books?”
“No,” Alexander said with another grin the devil himself wouldn’t have been able to match for its mischief. “I want your clothes off too.”
Six
Sandy
To Sandy’s great disappointment, Peregrine didn’t fulfill his most delicious wish of being fucked while still trussed up, but he did crawl over Sandy with those broad shoulders and those muscle-swollen thighs and push Sandy’s bound hands above his head. And then he’d proceeded to kiss Sandy so thoroughly that Sandy was certain he was now ruined for all other kisses for the rest of his life.
Sandy knew what his best friend Juliana would say—that he’d made similar claims in the past, and they’d all fallen equally flat. Sandy had a great weakness for other rakes and rakesses, and often found himself the seduc-ee rather than the seduc-er. He usually knew when he was being seduced for someone else’s amusement—being a rake himself made him quite clear-eyed when it came to such things—but he frequently surrendered himself to the melodrama of a love affair anyway, simply because it was fun and because he was bored.
But this was different somehow.
This wasn’t a seduction, and there was nothing jaded or amused about the way Peregrine Hind kissed him. There was a solidity to Peregrine’s touches, a gravity, and Sandy craved the weight of them. He loved the way those touches pulled on his heart and on his breath.
