The Shepherd and the Solicitor by Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon

Author:Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: opposites attract;healing;angst;drama;hidden identity;gay historical;recluse hero or hermit hero
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Tobin had made the joking remark as something of an invitation but also a challenge. He expecting Bennet to unwrap his arms and rush out to the sheep pens. Yet Bennet only held on to him wordlessly, in a grip so tight Tobin had trouble pulling in a full breath.

He didn’t complain.

We aren’t done yet. Tobin felt a rush of joy. They weren’t going to run away from this momentous event. Not like that first near-encounter Bennet pretended hadn’t occurred.

Tobin kissed the sweaty flesh under his mouth and enjoyed the shudder that ran through Bennet’s body.

Desire already woke again. A minute earlier, he’d been entirely sated, but now he could feel the brush of skin against his cock and knew he swelled with eagerness again.

He wiggled away enough to grab Bennet’s arm and shoved him toward the bed. Tobin hadn’t known he had a taste for control, but he did enjoy pushing Bennet around a bit. Perhaps because the man’s stubbornness called out to his own? He hardly cared. Thinking was not high on his list of activities when he saw that muscular figure sprawled faceup, a delicious spread for him to enjoy—or as spread as it could be on such a meager bed.

He pictured that body in his own bed, which was large and had far softer sheets. He wouldn’t even care if Bennet brought the smell of lanolin and the barnyard into the bed. In fact, Tobin suspected that from now on the smell of sheep would act like an aphrodisiac.

He paused, staring down at Bennet, who was not likely to willingly return to London—and if he did, it wouldn’t be to dally with Tobin.

“I’d best take you while I can.”

Bennet’s brow furrowed. “Less than an hour, I’d say. The ewe in the east corner—”

Tobin bent and stopped him with a kiss. He climbed onto the bed and loomed over Bennet on all fours before lowering himself onto Bennet’s powerful body.

They kissed until Tobin grew dizzy and his mouth almost too sensitive. He didn’t want to take time to breathe or think—or allow Bennet to think. When Bennet opened his mouth to speak, Tobin took it as an invitation to kiss.

His naked skin against Bennet warmed his sweat-cooled flesh, and Tobin writhed so he could sense every inch, wishing he could go deep, all the way into Bennet’s taut body. He wanted to bury his cock in Bennet, but he wanted more. With his cock and his balls and his body, he’d erase everything but pleasure for them both.

He reached beneath Bennet and squeezed and kneaded the globes of his arse, crudely, hardly caring that he might be rougher than Bennet liked. But no, Bennet pushed up, their erections sliding against each other, already slick again. Tobin reached between them and tried to wrap both cocks in his hand. “Ha, can’t get my hand round us all,” he whispered. Bennet pushed up as Tobin ground against him.

The pressure, the hot breath and tickling beard against his cheek were good, but not what he wanted.

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