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fashion.
Vincent dropped his attention to his bent knee, which was drawn up, the other leg stretched out before him. The furrow pulling his
brows deepened. Still though, not a word passed the tight line of his lips.
Dark smudges underscored his eyes, and stubble darkened his usually clean-shaven jaw. Instead of a crisp, neat Mathematical, he
had tied his cravat in a simple knot. If Oliver wasn t mistaken, Vincent had donned the same deep brown trousers Oliver had pulled down
his strong legs less than twelve hours ago. He d hazard a guess the coat, waistcoat, and shirt hidden beneath the black greatcoat were also
the same ones the man had worn yesterday evening.
Did you get much sleep last night? he asked.
A long pause, and then Vincent shook his head, slow and reluctant. Don t believe I got any.
The knot clutching his stomach tightened to a viselike hold. You do know I love you? At Vincent s single nod, he asked, doing his
best to keep the all-consuming worry from showing itself, Did you at least enjoy last night?
Vincent looked up from his study of his knee. You doubt it? I climaxed with your cock in my arse. And his arse was still a bit sore,
the ache a constant reminder of exactly where Oliver s pretty cock had been.
Intent and probing, Oliver swept his dark gaze over Vincent s face. So why does that bother you?
He focused on a spot over Oliver s shoulder and dragged a hand across the back of his neck. Trust Oliver to go directly to the heart of
the matter. It shouldn t. He heaved a sigh. But it does for some reason.
How could he explain that sense of utter vulnerability? Giving responsibility for his pleasure so completely to another was definitely
a new experience. Last night he had felt connected to Oliver in a whole new way. And it frightened him.
I will not deny I had a very good evening. The long black fan of Oliver s lashes drifted down. A smile pulled the edges of his lips.
But when he looked back to Vincent, his gaze was once again somber, begging Vincent to confide in him. But if you weren t comfortable
with it, then we don t have to do it again. Honestly, Vincent. My love for you is not contingent on you bending over for me. He laid a
comforting hand over Vincent s, which was braced at his side in the grass. I know you love me. You don t need to prove it that way.
Vincent s lips curved in a weary half smile. I know. Ridiculous to even have this discussion. Oliver gave himself up to him on a
regular basis his lover s more than obvious enjoyment shouted loud and clear he had no issues with it. So why did Vincent?
Not because he was still in denial. Over a year ago, he had finally stopped fighting himself and fully accepted that he preferred men.
And above all, that he loved Oliver. He trusted the man implicitly. So much so he had given himself over to his lover, let the man have his
way with him. Something, not that long ago, he would have never allowed. Yet just last night, he had done so without a second thought.
It wasn t that the experience totally put him off the idea. Not something he wanted to become a habit or even a somewhat frequent
activity. He enjoyed dominating Oliver far too much. Nor did he worry Oliver now wanted to completely flip their dynamic in the
bedchamber. The man s soul truly craved submitting to him. But every once in a long while, he could now see himself wanting more than
Oliver s eager submission. Yet&
His gaze dropped to the jade cravat pin affixed to the untidy knot of Oliver s cravat, and the answer that had eluded him since Oliver
had fallen asleep beside him last night hit him.
Last night had made him realize how much he truly loved Oliver. How much he needed him, and not just for evenings together to
share a supper or as a more than eager bed partner willing to submit to Vincent s every whim.
He needed Oliver in his life. Needed the man at his side, and not only as he was now, but until the end of his days.
Now that the marquisate had a new heir, the threat of having to marry had disappeared. His lover could remain at his side forever,
yet the knowledge did not offer the comfort it should. In fact, it had become the source of the fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach,
building stronger as the night had given way to the dawn. It made him acutely aware of how lucky they were Grafton had a son. What if it
had been a daughter? What if his brother s wife could not have children? What if some unknown force tore them apart? Their relationship
was against the law, after all. What if something happened to Oliver? Would he end up like the Widow Middleton, the man he loved ripped
from his life far too soon? Accidents did happen. For all he knew, today could be their last day together.
The fear flared from his belly, an ice-cold, prickly rush that encompassed his entire being. His heartbeat stumbled, his breath
hitching in his chest.
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