The distance that Liam had fought to close between them in Oliver’s bed wasn’t there this time—it was just them and their present, not their history. If this was a future they could work toward, Liam would fight for every step they took.
His orgasm built hard and quick beneath Oliver’s talented mouth. Liam barely got out a gasping warning before Oliver pulled off as he came, catching Liam’s cum on his lips and tongue, turning his head just enough for it to paint his flushed cheek with sticky ribbons of white.
Liam groaned at how Oliver looked between his legs, hair mussed up, lips swollen, and covered in Liam’s cum. He gripped Oliver’s tie and hauled the other man onto his lap. Oliver had undone his own trousers, shirt parted around his hard cock. Liam dragged his fingers over Oliver’s face, catching up what he could of his cum before he wrapped his hand around Oliver’s cock.
Oliver braced both hands on Liam’s shoulders and threw back his head, moaning his name. “Liam.”
“Say it again,” Liam growled, stroking Oliver’s cock with barely slick fingers, twisting his hand at the end of every pull. “I want to hear you say my name.”
He honestly thought it’d be more of a fight, but when Oliver opened his eyes and stared at him, all Liam saw was a need he ached to soothe. Oliver lifted his hands off Liam’s shoulders to frame his face, kissing him with sticky lips. Liam could taste himself on Oliver’s tongue.
When Oliver came, he came with Liam’s name on his lips, a moan that sounded like a prayer as he shuddered in Liam’s arms. “Liam!”
“I’m here,” Liam said, gathering him close, not caring about the mess between them. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Oliver wrapped his arms around Liam’s neck, pressing their foreheads together as he came down from his orgasm. Liam tipped his head up, their noses bumping before his mouth slotted over Oliver’s for a deep kiss. When the kiss broke, neither man moved, and they stayed where they were for several minutes, just breathing. Finally, when Liam couldn’t ignore the mess they’d made any longer, he cleared his throat.
“Could do with a shower and a kip if you want,” he said.
Oliver leaned back, resting his weight on Liam’s thighs. His fingers stroked lazily over the back of Liam’s neck. “I’ll shower and borrow your stain remover, but I should really get back to work.”
Liam wanted to argue, but he knew how seriously Oliver took his job. “All right but come back when you’re finished. And when this whole bloody mess is all over, I’ll cook you that fry-up.”
Oliver’s smile was soft and sweet. “Okay.”
Maybe this was forgiveness after all.
18
Down Amongst Your Bones
The summitof the heads of households in the royal family that evening at Buckingham Palace involved the queen, Liam’s parents, and the next in line to the throne, his aunt, Alexandra, the Princess Royal and heir apparent.
Liam strode into the queen’s sitting room, finding all parties assembled. He paused long enough to respectfully bow his head to his grandmother before approaching where everyone sat on sofas and armchairs. His mother rose to her feet to greet him with a hug, the show of affection not unusual outside the prying eyes of the public.
“Liam,” Georgia said, cupping his face and studying him. “You look well.”
“Regen does wonders, mum,” Liam said.
Her mouth tightened, and then she sighed, gesturing gracefully at the empty armchair. “Sit, please.”
It felt like all the times when he was a lad and got into trouble, and he’d be sat down and scolded. Only this felt more like a wake for the life he’d lived and was being forced to give up.
“Liam,” Mary said, his grandmother studying him with worried eyes. “I am glad we didn’t lose you.”
“I’m sorry to have worried you,” Liam said as he sat.
“It would have devastated this family if we had.”
Liam swallowed, acknowledging that remark with a faint nod. “Yes.”
“I’m sure you’re aware of what this is about,” his father said, not unkindly.
“I know.” Liam’s gaze skipped from his father to his mother, then to his grandmother and aunt. “I understand the decisions being made.”
“Do you?” Alexandra asked.
His aunt was a stickler for duty, the same way his grandmother was. She’d been brought up knowing she would one day wear the crown, and that lent her familial power his father had always lacked. But this wasn’t a break between their respective households; it wasn’t a family fight over perceived negligence of his actions. They only had his best interests at heart, but that didn’t mean the results wouldn’t hurt.
