“Oh shit,” I said. “You’re a Tory.”
“Fiscal conservative,” he amended.
“A Tory!” I accused.
“Center leaning.”
“Oh my God, I spent the night fucking a conservative.”
“And you enjoyed it greatly,” he purred.
“Thank goodness you don’t have a second amendment here.”
“The duchy owns twelve shotguns.”
I forced my hands in between us in prayer position and begged, “Please tell me you don’t hunt. Please, please, pretty please.”
“I don’t hunt. But I do trap shoot, and we host sporting clays.”
“Trap shoot?” And since I didn’t know the other either, I added, “Sporting clays?”
“Clay pigeons. Trap shooting is from a stationary position, but the angle the clays are launched is varied. Sporting clays is when you’re in a simulated hunting scenario. In other words, I shoot. I just don’t shoot anything that’s breathing.”
I grinned, grabbed his head and pulled it to me to kiss him.
He took over what was supposed to be a quick kiss, and it got interesting.
Some time later, when he put me on my knees with my face in his downy pillows, and he was taking me from behind, it got seriously interesting.
Okay, he was a great fuck and a magnificent man.
I could forgive him for being a Tory.
Or…a fiscal conservative (I decided to think of it like that).
Then again, I was coming to terms with the fact I would probably forgive Battle for pretty much anything.
And that didn’t scare me one whit.
CHAPTER 18
THE CANDIDATE
“Battle,” I moaned.
Then I came.
For his part, Battle kept fucking me against the wall of his shower.
Around the second time we did it after we returned to the house from going out for steak dinners at the posh pub where he took me on our first out-of-The-Downs, his-sisters-not-around date last night, he’d stopped reaching for the condoms.
I got it, they were a pain.
But I was honored, since it said he trusted me.
And of course, since then, I’d showed him that gratitude…repeatedly (though, right after the first time he did it (or didn’t do it, as this case was), I’d touched his face and whispered, “Honey,” and from his expression, I knew he understood me, or rather, I understood the immensity of what he’d just given me).
So this time, when he climaxed, I felt the warmth of his cum jetting inside me.
