“Must I?” He bit the words out, humiliated.
Murdo let out a huff of frustration, passing a hand over his face. “For once in my life—foronce—I try to do the right thing—”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that fucking you, for the first time in your life, just after you’ve told me all about the love of your life, the man who let you down and betrayed you in front of your father, is not a good idea. I can’t—it doesn’t feel right.”
“Why?” David snapped. “I want it, Murdo. Ido.”
“Because I don’t want to do it when you’re thinking about bloodyWilliam,all right? And I want the first time we do this…if there ever is a first time…to be…to be…” He broke off, seeming lost for words suddenly.
“What? Tell me.”
Murdo sighed. “Gentle.”
“Gentle?”
“Yes.” This was delivered through gritted teeth.
“Christ, Murdo, I’m not some virgin girl on her wedding night! I’m six-and-twenty, and I’ve sucked more cocks in back alleys than I care to remember. I don’t need gentle. Christ, I don’tdeservegentle.”
For a moment, Murdo just stared at him, and his dark gaze was furious. David had the sinking sense he’d said something terribly wrong. He braced himself for Murdo to explode with anger, but instead Murdo turned aside and drove his fist into the wall.
“Jesus Christ!” David yelled. “What the hell are you doing?” He rushed to Murdo’s side and grabbed his arm to examine his hand. Murdo’s hand shook, and all the knuckles were split and bleeding. He tore it out of David’s grip.
David looked at the wall. “You’ve cracked the plaster!”
“Sorry,” Murdo muttered. “I’ll have it fixed.”
“That’s not what I meant, I just meant—Christ, yourhand, Murdo! What were you thinking? What did I say?” He loosened the knot of his own cravat and drew it off, gently wrapping it round Murdo’s knuckles.
“You said that you didn’t deserve me to be gentle with you.”
David looked up from securing the linen round Murdo’s injured hand. “But why—”
Murdo swallowed. “It brought back memories,” he said, and his gaze was bleak.
“Let’s sit down,” David murmured. He guided Murdo back to the armchair and pressed him into it, but when he went to take the chair on the other side of the fireplace, Murdo captured his hand and tugged at it.
“Sit here with me,” he said.
David paused. “How?”
“Here, on my lap.”
David gave an awkward laugh. “I’m not a woman—” he began.
“For Christ’s sake, David!” Murdo cried. “Iknowyou’re not a woman! If I wasn’t aware of it already, I’d certainly know from how often you remind me! Can’t you just sit with me because I want you near me?” His voice carried despair and frustration, and David felt suddenly ashamed.
“Oh, all right,” he said reluctantly.
He lowered himself, somewhat awkwardly, till he was sitting on Murdo’s lap, his back against the other man’s chest. Behind him, Murdo let out a soft gust of laughter, his deep voice reverberating in his chest. Then he murmured, “Thank you,” in David’s ear, and his arms came around David’s chest, tugging him a little closer.
For a while, they stayed like that, David’s stiffness gradually leaving him till at last he lounged, relaxed, against the other man. The fire crackled merrily now, the flames mesmerising. Behind David, Murdo’s big body was warm and powerful, responsive. Hard, but with give in it too. Strangely comforting, which was surely wrong when David should be the one giving comfort. Shouldn’t he?
It was almost a shock when Murdo finally spoke.
“My first time was not gentle,” he began in a quiet voice. “I was—badly used. There were two of them, and they were rough with me. I was only nineteen.”
