Page 20 of The Last Crimes of Peregrine Hind
“Seduce my way to freedom.”
Peregrine stared at the young man on his bed. He couldn’t know about the note Peregrine had just received, could he? No. No, he wouldn’t have known where to look for it in the alms box to begin with, and Peregrine knew he’d betrayed nothing when he’d walked in. Nothing other than grim lust, of course.
When Peregrine didn’t answer, Alexander’s full mouth curled in a smile so devious that Peregrine was certain half of London had lost their hearts or purses or both to it. What a highwayman Alexander Dartham would have made—he would’ve ridden up to a carriage and smiled that smile and the occupants would have showered him with jewels just for being so beautiful and captivating.
Just for being so very, very wonderful.
“I seem to remember telling you that I’m always willing to try the seduction route of escape,” Alexander murmured. He didn’t sit up, but rather stretched like a spoiled cat in the sun, and then his hands went to his waist, where he began playing idly with the fabric of his shirt, drawing it up higher and higher until Peregrine could see the delectable well of his navel.
“What if it doesn’t work?” Peregrine asked, his voice gone a little rough as he finished undressing and mounted the bed again, this time with both knees so he could crawl over Alexander, who was still smiling to himself like he was about to swindle an entire table of courtiers playing cards.
“Then I suppose,” Alexander said sweetly, sliding his hands up and around Peregrine’s neck, “I shall have to keep trying. You wouldn’t mind that, would you? If I had to practice a few times in order to get the seduction just right?”
“It’s already just right,” Peregrine heard himself say.
The truth tasted sharp and sweet on his tongue as he added hoarsely, “You’re just right.”
Alexander’s smile faded, and his eyebrows drew together. He looked confused, like Peregrine wasn’t playing the game which Alexander had been planning to cheat at.
“Peregrine,” he said, hesitantly, but Peregrine didn’t think he’d be able to answer any question that came next, and so he kissed Alexander before Alexander could say anything more.
Alexander’s grasp tightened on Peregrine’s neck, and then his fingers were sliding into Peregrine’s hair, rumpling it, tugging at it, until he finally found the ribbon tying Peregrine’s queue and pulled it free. His hair tumbled around their faces like a curtain, shutting out the light from the candles and from the fire, and in that private darkness, Peregrine licked past Alexander’s mouth until he could feel the sweet silk of Alexander’s tongue against his.
As Peregrine kissed him, he braced on one arm and used his free hand to find the jut of Alexander’s hip, then the curve of his backside. He gripped and squeezed there and then pressed them together where it mattered most. The broadcloth of Alexander’s breeches was a little rough against Peregrine’s cock, but the roughness felt good as he moved his hips against the other man; it had him panting after only a few thrusts.
He couldn’t remember being this wound up, not even as a lad sneaking into the barn with a shepherd for the first time. He couldn’t remember ever having his body pressed against someone’s like this, kissing and simply feeling. As a soldier, any encounter had been necessarily brief and efficient. Impersonal.
But with Alexander, everything was languorous, lingering, indulgent—not merely relieving a physical need, but savoring something wonderful.
“How would you seduce me?” Peregrine breathed between kisses.
“So you admit now it’s a possibility that I can?” Alexander murmured.
Peregrine could feel Alexander’s mouth curving against his, and then he smiled himself. “You’re awfully smug for a captive.”
“Obviously, I’m smug.” Alexander reached between them, and his fingertips ghosted across the corners of Peregrine’s mouth. “I made the terror of the Queen’s roads smile. And I haven’t even touched his cock yet.”
You’ve only touched everything else. His thoughts, his heart, even the faint wisps of what could be called a soul—Alexander’s fingertips had brushed over them all. And Peregrine didn’t know how he felt about it . . .
Only that he wasn’t ready for it to stop.
“But a smile is still a long way from seduction,” Alexander continued. “Hmm. What shall I do to win my freedom? How should I seduce such a stern”—his fingers dropped to Peregrine’s bare chest, and then skated down his sides, making him shiver—“ferocious”—then his fingers tickled over Peregrine’s hips and Peregrine huffed out a laugh that made the rake’s evil grin spread even wider—“stoic man?”
“If you keep insulting my dignity like this, I may have to return you to your bindings,” Peregrine threatened, nuzzling against Alexander’s neck and inhaling the scent there. It smelled like soap and somehow still like Alexander—citrus and spice.
“Oh dear,” said Alexander. “Oh no. Whatever shall I do.”
“You could get back to seducing me properly,” Peregrine suggested. He kissed Alexander’s neck and then levered himself up to look down at the younger man spread underneath him. Alexander’s near-black hair was in a halo of dark silk, and his already full mouth was swollen with kissing. Without breaking their gaze, Alexander slowly, carefully stripped himself out of his clothes. Peregrine eased up so his captive could pull them all the way off, and then he lowered his hips to Alexander’s once he was finished undressing so that naked flesh could touch naked flesh.
Peregrine grunted in pleasure, and Alexander’s gaze grew flirtatious.
“Would you like me like this?” Alexander murmured coyly, spreading his thighs even wider under Peregrine and putting his hands against Peregrine’s chest. “Like a virgin? Like I don’t know how good it will feel? Like I can only tremble underneath you while you show me?”
Peregrine’s cock surged against Alexander’s stomach, answering for him.
“Or . . . ,” Alexander said, seeming to have an idea. His eyes moved past Peregrine to the closed door, and there was an icy stab of fear that his prisoner would bolt for the door while Peregrine was hazed over with lust. But then he realized that even Alexander wasn’t reckless enough to plunge into the chilly moors completely naked, and also that Alexander was looking at the edge of the table instead, where Peregrine had set a small bottle of oil.
With surprising strength, Alexander flipped Peregrine onto his back. He tossed his hair over his shoulder and gave him a triumphant grin before sliding off the bed, sauntering over to the table, and getting the bottle.
