Convincing Leopold by Ava March

it’s just… It hurt to see him.” To be faced with the man who had cared so very little for him. A physical reminder of his own desperate, blind foolishness and the painful heartache that had followed in its wake. He shook his head again. “My apologies. I don’t mean to go on about him. He means nothing to me. Truly.”
     
    He felt the carriage shift slightly. A hard shoulder pressed against his as Thorn settled beside him.
     
    “You were with him for ten years, Arthur. That’s not something one leaves behind in the blink of an eye.” Thorn laid a hand on his thigh, but rather than arouse, there was nothing but comfort in his touch. “You needn’t apologize.”
     
    Arthur let out a sigh, the tension breaking from his shoulders. “Thank you for understanding.” Thorn was wicked and wanton and prone to bouts of volatility, yet the man’s mere presence could be so comforting at times—that soothing sense of quiet acceptance.
     
    “It is I who should apologize,” Thorn said. “I should have thought to ask who would be in attendance before bringing you there tonight.”
     
    “But you should not have to. And you needn’t worry about it. The situation is over and done with. I shall never have to face him for the first time again.” Nor would he continue to act the coward and deliberately avoid Randolph. If the man tried to proposition him again, he would convey his disinterest in no uncertain terms.
     
    Arthur looked out the window to the neat rows of stately town homes interspersed with tidy squares, the darkness of night broken only by the streetlamps. Thorn’s team of four continued to wind its way out of Mayfair and to Arthur’s bachelor apartments, the rhythmic sounds of their strides creating a calming lull that filled the interior of the well-sprung carriage.
     
    If nothing else, the evening had served a valuable purpose, reminding him anew of the mistakes he had made with Randolph. The prospect of being alone still frightened him a bit. All right, more than a bit . But never again would he allow fear to push him to cling to a man.
     
    Thorn’s touch shifted, pulling Arthur from his thoughts. His lover did not move his hand from its spot midway along Arthur’s thigh, yet he could feel the change in Thorn’s intent. Long fingers splaying, grip firm, while the sleek body beside him practically melted into his side. “I never did make good on my offer from earlier.”
     
    “ I want you to come down my throat, coat my tongue with your seed .”
     
    Like a flint to stone, arousal sparked his senses. “We’ll be at my apartments soon.”
     
    Thorn’s lips grazed his ear. “It will be at least another fifteen minutes before we arrive.”
     
    “Not enough time.”
     
    “Plenty of time if I apply myself. I could be sucking the last drop from you within a handful of minutes.” Thorn reached across him, toward the shade on the window.
     
    The thought of Thorn applying himself made Arthur’s ballocks begin to grow heavy with need, yet he could not forget the lateness of the hour. He put a hand on Thorn’s chest, stilling the man’s fingers an inch from the shade. “Thorn—”
     
    In one fluid motion, Thorn straddled his lap, knees bracketing his hips and firm, round arse settling on his thighs. Arthur blinked against the suddenly dark interior, all traces of weak golden light gone.
     
    Hands settled on his shoulders. He felt Thorn’s weight shift; then hot breaths fanned his cheek. “It’s only the two of us, and at this hour the streets are practically deserted. I don’t want you to bugger me…yet.” Arthur did not need a lamp to see Thorn’s wicked smile. “I just want to taste you.”
     
    Just ? He would never use that word to describe climaxing down Thorn’s throat.
     
    Soft lips brushed across his, a teasing whisper of a caress. “ Please .”
     
    How could he resist when Thorn asked so sweetly, as if he alone held the power to grant the man his fondest