Delaney and the Autumn Masque by Bonnie Dee

Author:Bonnie Dee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: halloween, holiday, gay romance, gay historical, victorian era, seasonal, opposites attract, masked ball, class barrier romance
Publisher: Summer Devon

Chapter Nine

He would keep his eyes open. Every other time he’d touched another man, Bartholomew had squeezed his eyes shut, or insisted on turning off every light. Russell hadn’t demanded anything different.

Now they were in his own sitting room, with the fire built high and the sun shining through Mrs. Bentleman’s lace curtains at the far side of the room. No one would see them, but he would make certain he could see everything.

He would take his time as well. If he could go slowly with himself, he could damn well do the same with Delaney Andrews.

He stroked his palm over the growing bulge in Delaney’s trousers. When he rubbed his face against to the woolen fabric and that lovely form, both men groaned. Bartholomew went still until Delaney grabbed his hair and held tight for a long moment before releasing him. A disappointment because he’d hoped Delaney would press him to do more, and at the moment, he wasn’t sure he had the courage to take the next step.

Then Delaney reached down and unbuttoned his own fly—enough permission given. Bartholomew ran his hands up the tidy body. He wasn’t a small man, though compared to Bartholomew he was. There was nothing awkward or gawky about his form as he stood, feet apart and fly open, awaiting Bartholomew’s touch.

He reached in and stroked the hot, smooth flesh. Delaney’s legs trembled, and so did his hands as he exposed his prize.

Delaney’s erection was darker, slightly smaller than his own. He examined it with his eyes, his fingertips, and at last his tongue.

He tasted of salt and man, and Bartholomew was starved for both. As he used his hands and mouth on Delaney, Bartholomew had to force himself to slow and take note, to watch the expressions flitting across that handsome face.

Delaney looked down at him as if the sight fascinated him as well. His breathing grew ragged, and he pushed into Bartholomew’s mouth and hands.

He moaned and brushed his fingers over Bartholomew’s face.

“Slow,” he panted. When he bit his lip and began to moan softly, Bartholomew’s hunger increased to the point that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching down and touching himself with the same slow rhythm that he sucked and licked Delaney.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, Delaney looked down at him, that avid fascination on his pink-cheeked face.

“I like seeing you touch yourself,” Delaney said. “So good. Seeing you pleasuring yourself at the same time. If I weren’t such a greedy bastard enjoying the show, I’d offer to touch you. But your hand on me and on you at the same time, it’s hard to imagine anything better, except… Maybe fucking. Yeah, fucking.” He delivered the harsh words in a gruff whisper Bartholomew loved. When he was alone and needed inspiration, he would recall that rough, excited voice, the taste, the appearance of Delaney in his sitting room and in his mouth.

So brazen.

When the cock in his hand and mouth swelled, growing harder, he abandoned all careful, slow movements and allowed his greed to show.

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