Greater Love Hath No Man

Chapter 2-2

“I looked for you outside the pub last evening,” I murmured to Waters as I took the chair beside him. The course was History and Russian, an honours class, and for the past month he’d been trying desperately to master the Russian Cyrillic alphabet.

“Why?” He looked away. “Never mind, that’s unimportant. Please be quiet. Dr Mallard doesn’t like us speaking—”

“Dr Mallard is a blighter,” I whispered. He was also a toady and rarely aimed his choler in my direction.

Sure enough, the Don glared at Waters. “You’re hopeless,” he sneered. “Why don’t you save us all your futile attempts and give it up?”

“I’ll help him, sir.” I’d always had a facility with languages, and Waters looked so desperately unhappy. I leaned toward him and whispered, “Meet me in the library afterward.”

He stared at me wide-eyed, and then flushed, bit his plump lower lip—an action that had me wondering what it might feel like between my own teeth—and nodded, his gaze sliding away.

“If you’re quite finished, Trevalyan?” Dr Mallard huffed.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

He frowned at me, possibly wondering if I was giving him cheek. I kept my expression solemn, and he harrumphed and began his lecture. It was interminable, but eventually it came to an end, and everyone hastened to make good their escape.

The library was dim and silent. We sat beside each other, books, pencils, and paper before us on the table, and I took the opportunity to sit closer than might actually be warranted. As I pointed out the difference between our English “h” and the Cyrillic, our thighs brushed, and I felt an electric shock. Waters’s startled gaze met mine, and I knew that he had felt it also, but he mumbled an apology and started to edge away.

I had no idea what possessed me. I pretended clumsiness and dropped my pencil. As I bent to retrieve it, I snatched a glance at his crotch. There was the tell-tale bulge.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking rather like a frightened deer.

“I’m not.” My mouth was dry, and I swallowed and worried my lower lip. I couldn’t prevent myself from running my thumbnail over the front of his trousers, fascinated by the tiny quiver beneath my fingertips. My face felt on fire, and I snatched my hand away. “I beg your pardon. That wasn’t well done of me.”

“No, that’s…I…I liked it. Oh God, I shouldn’t have said that. Are you going to strike me?”

“No!” I frowned, recalling the occasions I’d seen him sporting a black eye or bruised cheek, which, if anyone asked, he’d brushed off as his being prone to accidents. “Has someone had the audacity to raise a hand to you?”

“It’s just…Well, most chaps don’t care to have other chaps making a pass at them.”

“As I recall, I was the one doing the pass-making.”

His brown eyes grew huge. “But you’re not—”

“I’m not what?”

“Everyone knows you like girls! Dash it all, Ja-Trevalyan, word has it you were even married for a time!”

No one was aware of that. I narrowed my gaze at him. “How did you learn of this?”

“I…I must have heard it in passing.”

“That is hardly likely.” I thought of the short time Barbara and I had had together. There had been no need to tell “everyone” that the girl with whom I’d been living had been—for that very short span of time—my wife.

“I…I beg your pardon. I didn’t realize it was supposed to be a secret.”

“Well, it hardly matters as I’m no longer married.”

“You’re divorced?”

“You needn’t sound as if that’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever heard.”

“Well, it is. I don’t know of anyone who’s divorced. Does that mean you couldn’t…um…perform?”

I scowled at him, and he worried his lower lip.

“Is that why you want to have s*x with me?”

I growled and began putting my supplies away.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I know of men who marry because they’re like me, but then they can’t consummate the marriage.”

“I was able to perform quite satisfactorily, thank you very much.”

“Then why do you want to have s*x with me?”

“Is there anything that says I can’t like boys as well?”

“Well, I…I suppose not.”

“All right, then. Let’s go.” This was hardly working the way I’d hoped. When I’d wooed Barbara, my words and actions had been suave and sophisticated. Why was I at sixes and sevens with this man?

“To the staff loo? I suppose that would be fine. No one uses it at this time of day. Or…or the cupboard just down the hall.”

“And how would you know of that?” I’d hoped we could go somewhere where we could do this lying down.

“I’ve…er…” He coloured, obviously uncomfortable.

“Never mind. We’ll go to my bedsit. You know, Waters,” I remarked as casually as I could, “the best way to learn a foreign language is in bed.”

“Yes?” His voice was low and hopeful.

“Yes.”

“I…I should like that.”

“Brilliant. Let’s go.”

We closed our books and gathered together our things, and I took him home. Fortunately, none of my neighbours were lingering in the hall, so I whisked him up the stair to my tiny room.

I opened the bed and turned, to find he had shed his clothes and stood naked in the centre of the room—which I realised with some surprise no longer bore a single trace of Barbara.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Eh?” I was distracted by the sight of him, and I started to steal a glance at his lower body.

“James?”

Embarrassed to have been caught—almost—peeking, I gave him a weak smile and looked over the rest of him. His body was covered in goose bumps; he shivered and wrapped his arms around his torso, bringing to prominence his n*****s, small, beige points of erect flesh.

Nerves, or lack of heat?

Now that I thought of it, the temperature in the room was a trifle chilly. I fished a shilling from my pocket and put it in the meter. Still, it would take some time for the room to heat up.

“Get under the covers.” My voice sounded unfamiliar in my ears. I slid my hands under my braces, easing them off my shoulders, and began undoing my trousers.

Jeremy obeyed my hoarse order and lay down.

“I take it that you’ve done this before…”

He looked crestfallen, and I wondered about that. “Yes,” he said, in a very low voice. He sighed, rolled onto his front, and went to his hands and knees. The coverlet slid down off his arse, and I felt cold. Large, hand-sized bruises marred the pale skin of his hips.

“Jeremy…”

“Waters,” he corrected. “We’re not…This is just a…Call me Waters.” He was putting distance between us. I didn’t like it, but I could hardly object.

However, I had no intention of allowing him to dictate how I would address him. “Jeremy, who did this to you?”

“What…?”

I touched each mottled bruise.

He spun around and pulled the covers over him and up to his chin. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Had he been assaulted? “Bloody hell! Are you even fit to do this?”

He flinched. “It’s…it’s all I am fit for.”

“Bollocks! I didn’t mean it that way! Are you in pain? Do you want me to take you to casualty?” I did up my trousers.

“What?”

“I don’t want to have s*x with you if—”

“Of course not. Why should you? You’re the son of a baron, after all, and I’m just a…I knew this was too good to be true. I’ll leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave! And dash it all, let me finish what I was going to say, which was that I don’t want to have s*x with you if it will hurt you!”

“Why?”

“Why? What d’you take me for, a bloody, bleeding, bastard of a sadist?”

“No, James.” He smiled for the first time, a mischievous, almost flirtatious expression, and it took my breath away. “I meant why me?”

“Because I like your eyes, and I think you’re an attractive bloke, and…I say, how many reasons must I give you? The long and the short of it is I’d like to.”

“Really? With me?”

“Yes, really, and yes, with you. Can we get on with it, Jeremy?” I deliberately made my words plaintive.

“Yes, James.”

“All right then.” I hid my smile of relief. He’d called me by my given name. Once more I undid my trousers, this time getting so far as to remove all my clothes.

“You’re…you’re beautiful!” he breathed.

“I? I’ve red hair.” I’d often been told my looks were well enough but for the colour of my hair.

“You do, don’t you?” He glanced down the length of my body. “All over. I love it.”

I could feel my face heat. “You’ll be patient, I trust. Like my eyes, I’m a trifle green at this.” I laughed, not surprised in the least at how strained it sounded, and I slid onto the bed and lay beside him. His skin was smooth and warm, and I found myself distracted—although fascinated—by it. “Tell me what you like.”

“You’ve…you’ve never had s*x before? What am I saying? You were married to that girl. Of course you’ve had s*x before! I’m sorry…I’m babbling.”

“Jeremy.”

He drew in a breath. “Very well, where’s the Vaseline?”

“Vaseline? I don’t have any.”

“D’you plan to bugger me without anything, Trevalyan?” He was back to using my surname, and I could have sworn in irritation.

“No.” Had others done that to him? “I don’t want to hurt you. And call me James.” I reached out to stroke his arm, first with fingertips, then following the path with my lips. His skin was slightly salty.

Jeremy was warmer now, and I pushed the blanket out of the way. He was as slight as his clothing indicated, each rib standing out in prominence. His n*****s were still hard, and on impulse I leaned forward and ran my tongue over one.

“Oh!” he breathed, sounding startled. “Oh! No one’s ever…” He wound his fingers in my hair and arched up, holding my head firmly against his chest.

Barbara liked having her n*****s fondled and suckled, and I saw no reason why a man couldn’t enjoy those sensations either. With a last swipe of my tongue and nip of my teeth, I let the n****e slip from between my lips and went on to give the other one its share of attention.

His breath was coming in soft, gasping puffs, and his hands released my hair and began petting my shoulders, my spine, and lower down, my buttocks and the crevice that separated them.

I could feel the heat and hardness of his c**k against my thigh, and I pulled back to study him. There was a silky covering of hair on his chest leading down to his abdomen, which was concave. I’d best take him out for a meal afterward, I mused as I ran my fingertips over the narrow line of hair that flared out over his groin. His c**k was engorged, and there, at least, he wasn’t slight. Thick and long, with a distinctive curve to the right. My mouth went dry at the thought of having that inside me, inside my arse, inside my mouth, and now my c**k quivered.

Now I was the one breathing hard.

Jeremy’s cockhead peeked out of his foreskin, and a single clear drop of fluid beaded there. Before I realised what I was about, I gathered it up on my forefinger.

“James!” Jeremy’s eyes widened as I brought my finger to my lips, and he groaned when I sucked it into my mouth and tasted him. He pulled it free and brought it to his own mouth. His tongue teased my fingertip, rubbing over the pad, the nail, then biting it.

I started at the feel of his warm, soft palm caressing my c**k, gently pushing back the foreskin, moving down the shaft to the chestnut curls that surrounded the base. He tugged lightly, and then wrapped his fingers around my c**k and began the return journey.

“Jeremy!” I groaned as I struggled to gather my wits. This was the first time any hand other than my own had touched my c**k. Barbara had been hesitant, and I’d been reluctant to press the matter so early in our marriage.

“You’re hard, James.” Jeremy’s voice was tremulous. “Please, we need something to ease your way into me. Spit will do if we must, or you could toss me off and use that, but…”

No, I wanted us to climax together. “Hand lotion?” I’d found a jar on the shelf in the cupboard. It had been Barbara’s, overlooked when she’d packed to leave, and I’d left it there.

“How do you have…?” He shook his head. “Yes.”

I swung my legs off the bed and stood. All my blood appeared to have pooled in my c**k, and it took a moment to steady myself. In that moment I thought of the girl who had been my wife for such a short while. Had our parents been correct? Were we too young? I gazed into Jeremy’s questioning gaze and knew, deep down, that while Barbara would always be a fond memory, I would not spend the rest of my life grieving over the fact that she was no longer at my side. Not now.

Jeremy rolled over once more and onto his knees, and pulled the pillows to the centre of the bed. He positioned himself on them, raising his hips, then folded his arms and lowered his head to the mattress.

Now that the shock of the sight of the bruises he bore had passed, I took the opportunity to study him in greater detail.

His arse was a wonder to behold, round and firm, and I wanted to sink my teeth into it and test its resilience. I could just make out his arsehole in the shadow of the crevice that separated his buttocks. Below were his testicles, symmetrical globes covered with hair several shades darker than that on his head. I didn’t see his c**k, cushioned as it was on the pillows. I thought of it lying there, where my cheek, my mouth would lie. I swallowed and licked my lips. My fingertips tingled with the urge to caress him, all of him.

“James?”

“Right-o.” I bolted to the cupboard, scrabbled in the back until I found the jar, and rushed back to the bed. “What do I do now?”

“Get behind me, and coat your c**k with it, please.”

I did as he instructed and brought the head of my c**k to his hole, then paused.

Something about this felt…off. He should have more foreplay. He deserved more foreplay. I sat back on my heels, scooped some of the lotion onto a finger, and stroked it across that small, puckered opening.

“That’s cold! What are you…?” He jerked away, but before I could apologise, could withdraw my finger, “My God!” He thrust backward, and my finger slid past the tight muscle and into his heat. “That feels marvellous! Please…”

A deep flush ran from his lower back up to his neck. He spread his legs wider and bowed his back. I watched in fascination as first one finger disappeared deeper into him and then another.

“Jeremy, I have to have you now!” I withdrew my fingers, not as carefully as I would have desired, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Yes! Oh, yes!” He thrust his arse back toward me.

Once again I lined up my c**k with his arsehole. I closed my hands on his narrow waist and began a steady, forward push. The initial resistance quickly yielded, and I sank bollocks-deep into him.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on holding still, the better to wallow in sensations that were familiar and yet strange to me—the velvet heat, the snug grip of his back passage on my c**k—I groaned and began to move, whispering s*x words to him in Russian. I’d told him the best place to learn a foreign language was in bed, and I intended to show him.

Avoiding the bruises on his hip, I kept one hand on his waist and used the other to explore the slopes and valleys of his body, the texture of his pebble-hard n*****s, the sharp contours of his ribs, the shallow indentation of his navel, all the while varying my strokes to learn what brought us both the most pleasure.

He jerked and shook and gasped when I thrust into him at a certain angle, and I made note of that and repeated the action, very happy when he shivered and groaned.

He reached beneath him, and I grasped his wrist.

“What are you about?”

“I’m going to climax.”

“No.”

“Please, James! Please let me!” He sounded on the verge of weeping.

“Of course I will.” How could he think I wouldn’t? “I want you to come with my hand on you.” I tossed the pillows out of the way, uncaring of where they landed.

Jeremy’s entire body shook as I closed my fist around him and pumped strongly. The soft sounds he made, hungry whimpers and moans, as well as the clenching of his internal muscles, dragged me closer and closer to orgasm.

“Ochi chyornye,” I murmured, then bit down on the back of his neck, and he cried out. His c**k twitched in my grip, and I felt ribbons of thick fluid fill my hand, so much I couldn’t contain it, and I was sure it splattered onto his abdomen and chest.

My balls continued to slap against his arse as he shuddered through his orgasm. Abruptly, they tightened and drew up, and I followed him in a climax like nothing I had experienced before. I drove as deep into him as I could, so deep I was certain he would be able to taste me on his tongue as I poured myself into him.

I was floating in a sea of post-coital bliss, and so was Jeremy if the way he was still trembling was anything to go by. I stroked the cooling semen into his skin, idly wondering what it would taste like if I licked it off, then realised my weight had to be uncomfortable for him; I kissed the spot on his neck I had bitten and eased out of him before rolling to my side with a satisfied groan.

My head didn’t land on a pillow as I’d expected, and I groaned again. What had I done with them?

I rolled over and peered over the far side of the bed. Ah, there they were! I fumbled for them, propped them at the head of the bed, and reached for my lover with eager anticipation. Cradling Barbara after we had both achieved satisfaction had been one of the things I’d enjoyed and missed the most since she’d left.

I found myself holding an armful of nothing. Jeremy was sitting on the edge of the bed, cleaning himself with a corner of the sheet.

“Going somewhere, Jeremy?”

He stiffened, but kept his face turned away from me. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I expect you’ll want me to leave now.”

“I will? Why?”

“Why?”

“Is there an echo in here?”

“Beg pardon?” He sounded confused and utterly miserable.

I leaned up on my elbow and studied the lines of his back, the way his vertebrae were so evident. He did need to eat more. Or better. I’d see to that.

My gaze dropped down to the bruises on his hips. And if I ever found out what bastards had hurt him, I’d see to them as well.

“Let me rephrase my question. What gave you the impression that I wanted you to leave?”

“Well…well…They always want me to go.” He still had his head turned away; he began pleating the sheet, so involved that he didn’t notice when I moved closer to him. Even so, his next words were so low I almost didn’t hear them. “They blame me for them wanting to bugger me.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“My other lo-lovers.”

“Jeremy. Ochi chyornye.” My finger under his chin gave him no choice but to look at me. Slow tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, and I felt as if I’d taken a blow to the chest. I hadn’t expected that. I scrambled upright, wanting to take him in my arms but hesitant. “Have I hurt you? Jeremy, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“You didn’t…” His breath shuddered out. “You made it so good for me, James. Better than it’s ever been.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you crying, then?”

“No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“Selfish bastards.” I wouldn’t call them lovers. I wondered if he’d ever tell me about the others who had taken him to bed and used him so hardily. “Jeremy, I’d like to do it again. If it wasn’t too awful for you?” I ran the heels of my hands under his eyes, drying his cheeks, then pulled him into an embrace.

“You’re fishing for compliments, aren’t you? No, it wasn’t at all awful.” The tension was beginning to leave his body.

“That’s grand. We’ll go out for a bite in a while, but for now, come lie with me.” I reached for him again, intending to settle him beside me on the bed, but he drew away.

“You’ve a mark on your hip.”

I groaned and felt myself blush. That bloody birthmark. Depending on how one looked at it, it appeared to either be a map of England, Scotland, and Wales or the British lion rampant. And every Trevalyan male back to the beginning of time bore it. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“It’s…it’s rather hard not to.”

Of course. As pale as it was, it still stood out against my milky-white skin.

“I couldn’t help observing,” Jeremy said as he extended his arm. It was just a shade or so darker than mine. “You’ve a very attractive bum,” he added wistfully.

“Well, ta, I’m sure.”

“Who’s kissed you there, James?”

I stared at him in surprise. Bums were actually kissed? I’d led a more sheltered life than I’d thought. “No one.”

“You needn’t lie to me. I’m an adult. And it will hurt less if I go into this knowing I can only have you for a short time.”

“I’m not lying, Waters! I was born with it!” He shied away, and I tempered my ire. “It’s the mark of the Trevalyans, and it’s passed down from father to son.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, truly. Here.” I rolled over, grabbed his hand, and put it on my arse. “Does that feel like a love bite to you?”

His fingers were hesitant at first, but then became surer. And then they were replaced by warm lips, and teeth and tongue. He began sucking on the mark, and this time when I groaned, it was in pleasure. If I hadn’t so recently climaxed, I’d no doubt my c**k would have been swelling again.

“I warn you, Jeremy: keep that up much longer and I’ll forget I’m a gentleman.”

“Very well, if I must.” A final nip, and he withdrew. “Much better,” he murmured, brushing his fingertips over the spot he’d been working. “I like having my mark on you, even if it’s just darkening your own mark.”

“Jeremy!”

He flinched and snatched his hand away. “I’ve overstepped…I’d better go.”

“You had better not.” I settled him beside me, pulling up the covers so he wouldn’t take a chill. “Now stay put, or I’ll tie you to my bed.”

“James…”

“I liked what you did.”

“You did?”

“This is the second time you’ve as good as accused me of lying, Waters! I assure you I’m not in the habit of telling untruths to those I—” I bit back incautious words. I liked what I’d seen of Jeremy, but hadn’t I learned better after what had happened with Barbara? “—I care about.”

“You care about me?” He sounded stunned.

“Do you think I’m in the habit of inviting random blokes to my digs?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“As well you should,” I said loftily. “Just see you don’t do it again.” He looked downcast, and I swore. “I wasn’t serious, Jeremy, I swear it.”

“Yes, James.” Bit by bit his body relaxed against mine.

I hummed in approval and ran my palm up and down his spine, taking care not to put pressure on his bruises.

“I really can’t stay long, however. I’ve got that paper for Dr Mallard.”

“Have you decided on a topic?”

“Not actually.”

“Do it on Catherine the Great being shagged by her favourite stallion.”

“James! You’re incorrigible, sir!”

“Seriously, I’ll help with whatever topic you choose. Please stay. An hour?” I wheedled. I knew I could talk him into staying, but it was more important that he choose to on his own.

He shook his head.

“Half an hour?”

“Really, James. I thought you promised me a meal.”

Longer? He was going to stay longer?

“That’s brilliant, ochi chyornye.” I turned him so that I spooned up against his back and took his c**k in my hand and stroked it, exploring that curve to it as it bowed to the right.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that.”

“Called you what? Oh, ochi chyornye?” I toyed with the hair at the base of his skull. “It means ‘dark eyes.’”

“Ochi chyornye,” he repeated, sounding very much like an Englishman trying to speak Russian, and not doing a very good job of it. “And how do you say ‘green eyes?’”

“Ochi verzi.”

He folded his hands over my hand. “Ochi verzi.” His accent wasn’t very much better, but it didn’t matter to me; we had all the time in the world to work on it.

“I told you this is the best way to learn a foreign language.” I turned his head and kissed him, licking his lips apart to get at the sweetness of his mouth.

He closed his hands over my hand where it continued to caress his c**k.

“You probably didn’t notice this…”

“Notice what?”

“My…my John Thomas has a bit of a kink to him.”

“Oh, you mean his curve to the right?”

“You did notice!”

“Of course.”

“All Waters’s men have that curve, according to Father.”

“I’ll know you in the dark, then.”

“Yes.” He sighed, and I was afraid he was growing restless and would want to leave, but then he wriggled his arse against my groin and murmured, “This is nice.”

Nice? It was bloody fantastic.

“Although I must say your digs surprise me.”

“Why? Don’t you like them?”

“I’d expect a baron’s son to have something a bit more…posh.” A blush ran up his spine. “I imagine the neighbours got quite an earful.”

“The walls are rather thin. Well, I’ve no objection to finding another place. That is, if you’ll move in with me.”

“Are you always so precipitate?”

I thought of the way I’d wooed and won Barbara. “Yes.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it’s too soon. You barely know me.”

“I know what’s important. We suit, Jeremy.” And as long as I didn’t declare undying passion for him, we’d be fine.

“It could be dangerous, you know.”

“I laugh at danger! Ha ha!”

“James, you prat, be serious. We could be imprisoned.”

“We’ll just have to take care that we’re circumspect when out in public.”

“Yes, but what will your family say? Your friends?”

“If it worries you, we’ll tell them we’re simply sharing digs.”

“I don’t think—” His stomach rumbled, and I chuckled and dropped a kiss on his jaw.

“I think I’d better feed you. Let’s get dressed and go out for some fish and chips. The future will take care of itself.”

* * * *

The flat I finally found wasn’t much, but it was more than my bedsitter—it had a kitchen and its own bathroom, and while the bedroom was tiny, the bed was more than large enough.

It took some doing, but finally I persuaded Jeremy to move in with me.

“Ah, James,” he murmured in my ear after I’d done kissing him by way of celebrating, “you are a silver-tongued devil.”

How little he knew.