Fuck…
Duncan pulled off with a damppop. “You must instruct me. What do I do?”
“What you’re doing is amazing,” Jasper gasped. “But a little suction would—Fuck, yes. Just like that.”
Duncan’s hand traced a path down the inside of Jasper’s thigh then disappeared below the hem of his shirt. The other wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer and going deeper into that luscious mouth with every thrust.
“My God,” Jasper panted. “D-Duncan, are you…? Are you touching yourself?”
They gave a hum that vibrated through Jasper’s cock, and his ballocks drew up tight. As they combined the flicking of their tongue with deep suction, he was overwhelmed.
“I’m close.Fuck, I’m so close.” His hips thrust forward, chasing the pleasure.
Gasping for control, Jasper realized he should pull away. This was their first time, he couldn’t…
“Oh fuck, Jasper, don’t stop!” Duncan pulled back to beg.
He blinked. Shock and arousal rippled through his chest. “Pardon?” Surely they didn’t mean to continue. There were other ways…
With a heavy-lidded smirk, Duncan placed their hands over Jasper’s. The dampness from their arousal coated their fingers and threw Jasper’s pulse out of rhythm.
“Find release with my mouth,” they enunciated, “and spend down my throat.”
His prick throbbed again, and Jasper released Duncan to give its base a hard pinch.
He gently lifted their hand and sucked their wet fingers into his mouth. “It would be my pleasure,” he growled.
Tightening his grip on their head, he guided them forward, and they opened eagerly, once more reaching down to pleasure themselves.
Beginning slow, Jasper drew his hips back and thrust, earning a surprised gasp and a moan from Duncan. Again and again he moved, gradually increasing his speed, until their moans and muffled cries of pleasure echoed through the room.
Their gaze held his as they sucked, and lifted a hand to cup his tight ballocks.
“Oh fuck,” Jasper gasped, thrusting faster. “Oh fuck!”
With another long moan, Duncan shuttered, their eyes drawing closed as they came.
“Fuck!”
Jasper stilled, spilling ropes of his seed down their throat.
Somewhere deep in the house, a clock chimed six, signalling the end of their time.
* * *
A frown rodeJasper’s brow during his departure from the magistrate’s office and his ride home. He fisted his hands in his lap, his back lightly bouncing against the squabs of his equipage as they rumbled over the cobblestoned streets of London.
“These occurrences are naught but hired ruffians paid to carry out your cousin’s demands,” the magistrate—Ludlow Vaughn—had grumbled. “We followed his trail to the docks, where we were advised that he boarded a frigate bound for the Americas.”
“I assure you,” Jasper had pleaded, “I saw him in town not?—”
“I’ve told you before, Your Grace, that it is merely a hired ruffian whoshares a resemblanceto Mr. Sinclair,” the magistrate had rebutted. “We’ve closed out the case on your cousin, but the dockworkers will keep an eye out for a man matching his description. And, of course, we’ll do our best to capture those hired men.”
“Sir, I implore you to?—”
“Good day, Your Grace.”
With a growl, Jasper punched the side of his carriage.
