Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

 

Gaudet awoke from a very cheerful dream in a brighter mood than he had known in what seemed like years. The night had passed too quickly after their union, as Gaudet had drifted into a peaceful sleep in William’s arms. Now, still tangled together in the sheets, he found his good mood abating too quickly as he gazed at the man beside him, wondering what his waking would bring.

He could not countenance another rejection, he knew, would not stand a second humiliation if it were to come. For long moments, he gazed at William, committing his peaceful features to memory, the face he had come to adore. When this all ended in heartbreak as soon as the other man awoke to the reality of the night just passed, Gaudet would not endure more sadness. He would simply gather up his bag, collect his little girl and find his sister alone, no matter the cost.

“Is it morning?” The words were barely a whisper, William’s eyes still closed.

“A beautiful sunny morning,” Gaudet told him gently.

He could almost feel the effort it took then as William’s eyes opened and he pressed his lips to Gaudet’s again before either had a chance to say a word. Gaudet met William’s gaze, and returned the kiss deeply, a soft sigh in his throat. William slid his hands into Gaudet’s hair, the kiss long and deep. Perhaps, he vaguely reasoned as he sank into William’s arms, this isn’t going to go so badly after all.

“Is this all right?”

“Very,” was Gaudet’s response.

“You must tell me,” came the earnest whisper, “if it isn’t.”

“Do not fret so,” Gaudet advised, fingertips trailing down William’s back. “It’s wonderful.”

He shivered at the touch, William’s eyes slipping shut as he kissed Gaudet hungrily, his hands starting to wander. The time was lost to kisses and Gaudet fluttered his fingers into William’s hair, tangling it softly. It did not take much before William was breathless and gasping in his arms, shifting closer in a subconscious, compelling fashion.

A memory of the night before swept through his mind, the tenderness of William’s hands gentle on his scarred back, the sense of peace when they had drifted into sleep together. With a sigh, Gaudet ducked his head to nuzzle the Englishman’s neck, utterly enchanted by the soft sounds of pleasure that escaped William’s lips.

“You’re so good at that.” The words were unguarded, his neck arching to Gaudet’s touch.

“And you…are inspiring.”

“What,” came the breathless reply, “do I inspire you to?”

“I could,” he whispered, teeth just grazing William’s neck, “show you.”

“Please do.”

Gaudet could hardly believe that this was happening, that William was still here, everything seeming to suggest that he was very happy with the current arrangement, too. With no thought in his mind other than William’s pleasure he shifted farther down the bed, drawing the tip of his tongue gently over William’s chest, reaching down to stroke him.

The whimper of pleasure that escaped William’s lips was most certainly unbidden, his hips lifting as he pushed toward Gaudet’s hand. “Yes.”

He went lower still, whispering soft endearments before he withdrew his hand, moving his tongue against William very softly.

“Oh, God.” William’s hips jerked suddenly and he grasped the sheets.

At the reaction, Gaudet lost no time in taking him fully into his mouth, fingers curling around him again.

It was heady indeed to see the usually so restrained Englishman gasping and writhing under his ministrations, gripping Gaudet’s hair as he moaned his approval.

He could hardly drag his gaze from William, could barely recall a sight so utterly glorious and it was with that thought in his mind that Gaudet slipped a hand beneath his companion and, without any attempt at a warning, pushed a finger into him.

“Christ!”

That was all the compliment Gaudet needed and he moved his hands and mouth in rhythm, teeth scraping gently now and again. He could, he thought, get very used to doing this for William Knowles.

It seemed that the Englishman was of the same opinion, gasps growing in intensity before he was suddenly pushing Gaudet away, a breathless moan warning what was to come. Gaudet, however, had other ideas. He was not, after all, the sort of chap not to finish what he had started and he tightened his lips, urging William on.

And finish he did a moment later, with a most loud cry of Gaudet’s name, hips moving furiously before he spent hard and fast.

Only when he was sure that William was sated did Gaudet finally lift his head and withdraw his hands. He took his time returning to lie on the pillow beside the Englishman, placing tender kisses on his chest and stomach on his way back up the bed.

“Bloody hell.” William’s eyes were tightly closed, his breathing still heavy even as one hand smoothed shakily through Gaudet’s hair.

“There is nothing so lovely,” Gaudet whispered, nipping at William’s ear, “as you like this.”

“I think…” William said, “my mind has ceased to work entirely.”

With a very soft sigh, Gaudet snuggled against William, finding, not at all to his surprise, that he could barely keep from touching the man at his side. He trailed his hand down William’s chest, resting his lips on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted sleepily, “that I am an idiot.”

“You are a ruffian, not an idiot.”

“Is that better or worse?”

“It is you.” Gaudet lifted his head to kiss William’s cheek. “And that makes it wonderful.”

“How do you do that?” William asked. “How do you always have the right words?”

“I am a playwright,” was the answer. “Words and sauce are my stock in trades.”

“Whilst I am hopeless at both.”

“You could give the latter a try,” Gaudet suggested, rather opportunely, the evidence of his own desire all too clear between them.

The Englishman’s face colored considerably at that, William murmuring a moment later, “Do you want—?”

“I want whatever you want, chérie.”

It turned out that what William wanted was much in keeping with his own thoughts on the matter, the next good while devoted to bringing Gaudet to a point where he was shuddering and gasping, given over completely to his pleasure. His hand was tight in William’s hair, hips bucking hard as he surrendered to the man with him.

“Sorry.” He was dimly aware of William whispering the word into a kiss, followed by a laugh. “I don’t know what for—”

There was suddenly a thunderous knock at the door followed by Dee calling, “House meeting, gents, ten minutes—we travel within the hour.”

Gaudet, however, barely heard it, far too occupied with deepening the kiss and when he did reply, “Indeed, sir,” it was in a strangled tone.

“What did he say?”

“He said…oh…” Gaudet gave a whimper of pleasure, the words lost in a gasp of William’s name as release swept through him.

He was aware of William’s lips on his hair and he floated for a long, blissful moment, thinking this was indeed a most perfect start to the day.