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.Then he came back to my arms and stretched out with a contented murmur."I love the taste of you," he whispered."I could drink you dry." That sounded like a wonderful plan, when we'd recovered.A long time later, I stirred, remembering I had condoms and Astroglide upstairs in my bedside cabinet."I've got an idea," I said into his hair."Why don't we go to bed?" So we did.For a while we just curled together under the duvet, kissing and exploring, until our cocks rose again, hard and ready for more.Then Fox prepared me with lube and clever fingers, and he slid into me with moans of intense pleasure from both of us.I locked my legs high around his ribs and rode him from beneath, trying to slow the pace, not wanting the ecstasy to end."Don't come," he panted."Don't - I want to suck you, drink all of you - "I whimpered."Are you insane?" I demanded breathlessly."After saying - that - you expect - me to be able to - " Then he was shuddering, rhythm broken, control broken.He drove deep into me, gasping my name and pulsing his release into the condom.How I held back my own orgasm I'll never know, but I managed it somehow, though I was sweating and shaking by the time Fox withdrew and collapsed on me.I wrapped my arms around him, stroking his back, half-expecting him to roll away with only a sleepy acknowledgement.But he didn't.He kissed me as if his life depended on it, then wriggled carefully down the bed until he was lying between my legs.And proceeded to suck my brains out via my cock.Fox had the most talented mouth I've ever experienced, and it took every bit of my crumbling self-control not to choke him or pull his hair out in handfuls.Instead I kept my hips still, caressed his hair with shaking hands and whispered sentimental nothings, while he did things with his tongue I didn't think possible.But I made mental notes as best I could.After all, every good turn deserves to be returned, right? My climax hit like a train, and I know it's a cliché, but that was truly what it was like.One of those very long goods trains that jolted over the points in a steady, unrelenting tempo.I was boneless and incoherent by the time he let my cock slip out of his mouth with a gentle pop.Then he crawled up my body, hooked one leg over my thighs, rested on hand over my heart and his head on my shoulder."Rob." he breathed on a long sigh, and relaxed into sleep.I followed him moments later.I was awakened at some ungodly hour as he slid carefully out from under the duvet and kissed my forehead."Go back to sleep," he whispered."I'm off to collect the bait." Bait? Oh, yes.Bait.I dozed for a while, feeling very good about life in general and myself in particular in spite of, or more likely because of, the various tender parts of my anatomy.I'd come twice more in the night; once buried deep in Fox, and later with him filling me.I revelled in the memories, my overworked cock somehow managing to struggle valiantly to half-mast.But gradually darker thoughts began to creep in.Like Henry Wendlow, George Baverstock to a lesser extent, and what we were going to do about the portraits.Plan A was largely cobbled together in my head, and while it had a cast of thousands - well, four or five - bits of it were still nebulous.The important bits, like how Jerry and/or Fox were going to get the portraits away from Wendlow once they had actually got inside his damned house, and without any repercussions.Especially without repercussions.We should have a conference.Sit round the kitchen table and bounce ideas off each other.The best way to resolve it would be an accident.Or rather for Wendlow to believe an accident had happened and the pictures had been destroyed.Yes, that would do it, and if it could be swung so that it looked as if either or both of the Tweedles were to blame then all the better.In fact, there was a way that I, personally and on my own, could get my paws on Adam without Fox or anyone else being involved.Rees vs.Tweedledum & Tweedledee.I thanked God Fox was safely out of the way heading for Somerset.All I had to do was wait.And think of a way to slant the blame.It was gone ten o'clock by the time I finally crawled out of the wreck of the bed and lurched into the bathroom.I felt about a hundred years old and as if the marrow had been drawn out of my bones.I've had the occasional orgy, but last night was something else entirely.From the mirror, my face smirked back at me, heavy-eyed and complacent.There were marks on my throat and the line of my collarbone - love-bites.I could vaguely remember giving him one or two similar ones.But Fox was still an enigma I was no nearer solving.Then again, did I really want to solve it? All this trying to find out what makes a person tick, isn't that a bit like making a commitment of some kind? Not only had I known him for just a few days, but he was entirely the wrong personality for a long-term relationship.I wasn't exactly sure what the role model was in that department, but somehow I couldn't see Fox being very domesticated and I am very fond of my creature comforts.On the other hand, he was one of those people I've known for ever.You must know how it is - you meet a total stranger and it's like meeting an old friend you haven't seen for a while.You ground me, he'd said.Furthermore, making love with him had been fantastic.I could feel a headache coming on so I gave up trying to puzzle it out.It took a large pot of tea and a plate of eggs and bacon to begin to restore me to something approaching my usual vitality, and I was singing cheerfully to myself as I strolled across the yard to the workshop to put the finishing touches to Beau's screen.The work went well, but most of the time I kept all ears cocked for the phone or the door-knocker.Uncle Joe should be reporting back pretty soon.Chapter NineHe reported back all right.Lisa delivered him mid-morning and we retreated to the kitchen for a tea break.She'd come across Uncle Joe in Salisbury and he'd promptly cadged a lift out to the cottage.He was fairly well-oiled into the bargain, but that was, after all, his natural state, so he retained enough discretion not to babble on about Wendlow in front of her, just in case she wasn't in on it already.Lisa, though, had no such compunction."I've been making a few discreet enquiries," she announced cheerfully as I made a fresh pot of tea for all of us."About Henry Wendlow.By the way, where's Fox today?""Out," I told her."Don't know where." There was the unmistakable sound of a motorbike turning into the yard, but it wasn't the Beast's distinctive engine note."What a pity," she cooed."I was looking forward to meeting him again.An interesting young man.""I don't know about that," I shrugged."Bikers are ten a penny these days and they don't often have too many brain-cells to rub together.Did I ever tell you about when Mike brought Mad Dog home?""Frequently, dear [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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