Casting a knowing glance at the fullness of Marcus's groin, Gavin slid off the bed, leaving the ivory sheets in disarray. "Too bad. You took too long and now, you'll have to wait." He was conscious of Marcus's hot lustful gaze on his back as he strolled nude to the door that led to the bathing chamber.

He didn't have time to savor his brief moment of victory though. He'd scarce crossed the threshold of the room, his feet had barely touched the thick absorbent rug on which the bathing tub rested, when a hard body was pressed up tight against him. Strong arms wrapped around his chest, holding him motionless as Marcus's prick slid into the crease of his buttocks, a hot brand of need that stirred his senses to life again.

A gravelly voice in his ear, "We've time enough. Or do you think that new secretary of yours won't wait for your lordship?"

A flicker of amusement rippled through him. "You leave your lecherous thoughts off my new secretary. I've just trained the man to the way I prefer to do business, and I won't have you breaking his heart and causing him to leave my employ."

Rough hands bent him over and Gavin grasped the edge of the tub to brace himself for what was to come. His reflection stared back at him, black curls in disarray, mouth swollen and red with passion, eyes still dazed, and cheeks flushed.

"I'm certain the man isn't in the petticoat line at all. He never casts an admiring glance at any of the women of the household." Marcus held him in place with a broad hand more appropriate to a groom or stable-hand than a valet placed squarely in the middle of his back.

Gavin licked his lips in anticipation, but held himself still. He let his eyes drift closed so he wouldn't be staring at his own reflection in the water, and then drew in a calming breath. The fire on the hearth that kept the room warm crackled, the sounds seemingly louder when he stared at the darkness inside his lids. He concentrated on those sounds, on the hissing and popping of the flames, the random soft thuds as bits of coal or wood fell. It couldn't even have been a minute of thus centering himself when a new sound interrupted his contemplation.

The fine gritty sound of a metal jar lid unscrewing presaged the drizzle of cool oil on his backside. The air became redolent of an oriental spice, a scent he'd purchased the year before solely for its sensual aspects. The oil was thick and slick, and perfect for easing the way of Marcus's lust. It stirred his own desire just as surely now as it had the first time he'd sampled the scent in that curiosity shop off Piccadilly.

Gavin shivered. Goosebumps rose on his flesh as hair prickled. His cock hardened to half-mast,purely from the knowledge of what was to come. A thick finger guided the stream of liquid to his anus, rubbing the opening, massaging it. Gavin quivered, anticipation building. He dragged his mind from the building flames of passion to the matter at hand, which as he saw it, was keeping his household running smoothly by keeping his secretary and his valet out of each others' arms and beds.

"Nor have I noted him evincing any interest in the footman, but that is entirely beside the point Marcus! The man may as well be a monk, as far as I wish you to concern yourself with him. Your lust has cost me two secretaries this past twelvemonth! I've no wish to be constantly replacing the fellows. You can confine yourself to playing around with men who are not of the household." That earned him a sharp slap to his buttock and his flesh tingled in response, blooming with heat and sensation.

"You know, I do enjoy a challenge, Gavin. I fancy that he hides from me, and he can only have one reason for doing that, don't you think? He finds me attractive and the attraction confuses him."

Trying to catch his breath, to control the speed with which his body raced beyond his control, Gavin considered Marcus's words. Though he knew his job and tended to Gavin's clothing and personal grooming quite well, Marcus was not at all typical of the sort of man who normally chose to become a valet. He was tall, broad of shoulder and well muscled. If he were a man of leisure, an aristocrat, his build alone would have marked him as a Corinthian. It was entirely possible that the man threw Nicodemus Martins into confusion. "Never the less, I forbid you to seduce him." He regretted that statement as soon as it was made. Marcus would never take such an order well.

"You forbid me?" Busy fingers inched their way past the tight ring of muscle, and Gavin drew a hissed breath. God, how he loved being breached by this man.

Marcus was a finely made man, his cock long and thick, and he stretched Gavin almost to the point of pain with his invasion, but every touch, from the blunt fingers rubbing his opening to the actual ingress of his prick, sent sensation surging through him. The stretch and fullness brought him fully erect again, and Marcus stroked his spine, soothing him back into stillness as he moved restlessly.

"Marcus...please. Fuck me."

Ignoring his plea, Marcus continued his slow movements, pushing forward gently until his balls rested firmly against Gavin's. "While I do like it when you plead with me to take you, My Lord, you're so hot and tight around me, it feels incredible. I've no wish to give this pleasure up too soon." He

paused, deeply embedded, and all Gavin could do was breathe and feel. It seemed every nerve ending from his head to his toes responded to that possession.

Gavin bucked and maybe, perhaps, whimpered a bit. "Please. Move..."

A brief retreat was followed by a smooth thrust. Clever fingers dragged through his chest hair and found a taut nipple. He groaned again as Marcus pinched and twisted the nipple. Shuddering, he contemplated a more fulsome begging, wondered if pleading might convince Marcus to give him what he wanted. "Marcus..." he gritted between clenched teeth as the knowing hand trailed down his belly to measure the length and thickness of his cock.

A sultry chuckle was his only answer as Marcus again moved with torturous slowness, dragging his thick cock back to the stretched ring of muscle at his entrance, poised there, while he thumbed the head of Gavin's prick, smearing drops of pre-ejaculate over the swollen knob.

It didn't take more than a few repetitions of that maneuver before he was begging in truth for more, harder, deeper, thrusts. "Marcus, please. I want to come, I need to, and you're torturing me!"

With slow steady movements, a hand that caressed him not quite firmly enough, or fast enough, Marcus kept him there, hovering on the edge of a need so sharp and fine he felt as though it might explode at any moment into a fury of release, but never did. He should have expected the rough voice in his ear as Marcus leaned in close over his back.

"What will you give me, My Lord, do I give you what you want at this moment?" He punctuated that offer with a particularly satisfying thrust that bumped against his pleasure gland and made Gavin cry out.

"You blackguard! You would blackmail me?" He forced himself not to promise the man anything he wanted in exchange for more of that perfect motion. His gut instinct said to trust Marcus-they'd been closer than brothers, lovers even for a good eighteen years-but he'd been conned enough in the throes of passion to know that agreeing to anything when your blood was hot and need was sharp was a policy that could lead a man straight to the poor house.

"I merely wish you to rescind your unfair order, Gavin. It isn't my fault your previous secretary was unstable, or that the fellow before that was a possessive bastard."

"Oh very well. I give you leave to seduce Nicodemus. But if he leaves a heartbroken man, you will do his duties as well as your own until a replacement is found! Better still, you'll do the finding of the replacement!" Oh yes...immediately a soothing flurry of thrusts set about at once to both ease and increase his needs. His last conscious thought before he was swept into a sea of sensation was that forcing Marcus to interview secretaries was probably not much of a punishment, as the man would probably just consider it auditioning a flirt.

"Oh fuck, Marcus? Marcus, do that again." His prick was engulfed in a hard hand, stroking him roughly from tip to base and back while the rapid deep thrusts into his backside hammered his gland over and over. His vision blurred, his pulse raced. Sweat beaded on his brow and dropped down into the bathwater.

When he couldn't hold back the feelings any longer, when his prick swelled with urgency and his balls drew up tight and hard against his body, Marcus continued to pound away. Gavin wanted to hang on long enough for Marcus to achieve his release this time, but he couldn't. "Marcus? I'm going..."

"Go on then. Let me feel you come apart in my arms, around my cock." The next few thrusts managed to be just a little harder, to shove him over the edge of the precipice until he tumbled, shouting, into bliss. His eyes squeezed shut as Marcus milked long streams of seed from him to spill on the plush carpeting.

Chest heaving, spent and relaxed, he returned to awareness to the realization that Marcus was still hard and still buried deep inside him. Slowly his gaze focused and he stared down at the little pool of pearly seed on the burgundy pattern of the carpet. His nostrils twitched as he inhaled the rich scent, savoring the earthy satisfaction that rolled through him. "You didn't..." Damn. The man wasn't even breathing hard!

"No, but I will this time." Husky and sure, the voice alone sent a shiver of pleasure down Gavin's spine to pool in his groin.

His hole clenched again, his cock gave a halfhearted twitch. "This time? I can't. You've done me in for the time being."

"Can't you?" He shivered under the hot caress of breath on his neck. Damp hot kisses trailed along his neck and upper shoulder, and all he could do was quiver and try to catch his breath.

"I couldn't possibly..." He bit his lip. As though you were refusing a second cup of tea in some overindulgent lady's parlor instead of bent over your own cooling bathwater!

"I think you can. But don't worry. I'll take care of all that while you just catch your breath and rest a bit, My Lord." Marcus's strong hands caressed his body, rubbing soothingly over his back and chest, caressing his nipples, his throat. His teeth sank into the curve of Gavin's neck and Gavin gasped, arching his back, driving Marcus deeper into him.

Hmmm. "Why do you have to be so difficult to appease? I've plans for the afternoon you know." The practiced sarcasm was second nature between them, and as he'd known he would, Marcus completely disregarded it, continuing about the business of his pleasure with single-minded focus. Such stamina. It reminded him of their younger days, when they'd rolled about in the hay mow as children who'd been forbidden by their elders to associate with one another. Those stolen moments of pleasure in one another's company had indeed led to other things over time, but he was fairly certain that his esteemed sire hadn't anticipated this particular scenario when he'd forbidden young Gavin to play with the servants' children on their country estate.

"Don't feel obligated to rush on my account, this position is entirely comfortable." He needled Marcus, intending to annoy the man, but Marcus wouldn't be hurried or deterred. And really, there wasn't anything unpleasant about the insistent presence thrusting leisurely in and out of him.

To his surprise, as his pulse slowed and his skin cooled, and Marcus remained a solid heavy presence behind him, hands slowly becoming purposeful, lingering in erogenous places, the breath he'd barely gotten under control began to hitch again, the cock he'd thought completely spent stirred and thickened, and a new passion rose in him.

It was, he supposed, on account of those many years of close acquaintance that Marcus knew exactly where to touch him to bring him back to the peak so ably. And it was that same knowledge that had him clenching his muscles, and squeezing Marcus in the embrace of his body. He could gauge the sounds of pleasure, guess at what his lover was feeling, but it would be so much easier to see... He tipped his head up, strained his neck so he could see them framed in the shaving mirror on the little table across the room, where the basin of water had surely cooled by now.

Yes. There. Now he could watch for the signs of Marcus's pleasure, read the man's responses.

He noticed right away that Marcus wasn't as unaffected as he'd pretended. A deep flush covered his cheeks, his lips parted. The over-long brown hair that he'd run his fingers through earlier now clung in sweat damp strands to the valet's forehead and neck. Tendons in his throat strained as he pumped leisurely, throat working as he swallowed. His muscles rippled in smooth rhythm, gleaming in the afternoon light.

"Beautiful." Gavin murmured, and Marcus met his gaze in the mirror. Even from this distance he could see that the man's pupils were huge, his eyes pools of dark desire.

"Come for me, again." The effort of getting the words out showed. Marcus's eyelids slid to half-mast, his mouth worked. His hips jerked. One hand slid down Gavin's spine to clench in his flesh, holding him in place. It was only then he realized he'd been rocking into every thrust.

Shaking his head, he demurred. "I doubt I can. I'm not sixteen any more. It feels wonderful, though."

He shuddered as an insistent finger rubbed his hole, stretched tight around Marcus's oiled cock. "What?"

"You can." Marcus insisted in his passion-roughened voice. "I need you to clench and pulse around me so I can come as well."

Laughing softly, Gavin enjoyed Marcus's gasp. "Then make me. I've given you the permission you wanted to pursue my secretary. I'm here, entirely at your disposal, keeping all and sundry waiting on your pleasure alone."

The challenge unleashed a storm of movement, brutal thrusts that made Gavin moan, rough touches calculated to launch him into a frenzy of need and leave his skin marred with purpling bruises. "Our pleasure." Marcus growled in his ear. "The world can wait for our pleasure, My Lord."

"Yes..." Gavin moaned, his body jerked as the finger probing around his entrance pushed in alongside Marcus's thrusting cock. "Oh God." It pinched, burned a little, but the intensity of sensation built up again, so hard and fast that he was erect and leaking in a matter of moments.

Marcus fondled his balls, rubbed his cock. "Not sixteen any more? I remember you at sixteen, and though you were bonny lad, nothing then compares to the man you are now."

Further words of praise passed unnoticed as Gavin felt himself being swept away again in a tide of need and lust. This time, when he spilled his seed on the lush carpet, his backside was bathed in a flood of warm liquid from Marcus's emission as well. Marcus, ever caring for him, guided them both to their knees so that they sat facing each other by the side of the tub. Forehead to forehead, they leaned on the heavy porcelain basin. They regained their breathing together this time, sharing minute kisses and damp sweaty caresses.

"The bathwater is cold." Gavin remarked dumbly. His body ached from the use it had received and a hot bath would have been refreshing.

"Too bad. There's no time." Marcus lifted him and helped him into the tub of lukewarm water. "Wash yourself. I'll ring for more hot water."

At least the water wasn't actually cold. Grimacing, Gavin lifted the sponge and a bar of sandalwood soap. He made as quick a job of washing as he could, conscious not only of the cooling water, but also of the fact that he quite possibly ought to in some way try to warn his secretary that the man was about to find himself under siege. The thought brought a smile to his lips though. It would be enjoyable to watch Marcus play cat and mouse with the wary secretary.

Marcus returned, whistling and appropriately dressed, bearing a pitcher of hot water for his shaving. He poured half the water into a small blue china basin and then laid out the remainder of the shaving gear across the top of the maple wood table. The metallic scratching of the razor strop sharpening the blade filled the spaces between the fire noises and the tinkles of the water lapping at the edges of the tub.

"Ready, My Lord?" Marcus stood at the foot of the tub, holding a thick heated towel that had been warmed by the hearth, an eyebrow quirked in inquiry.

Gavin rose, water streaming off his body. Marcus sluiced the soapsuds from him with a second pitcher, and wrapped him in the warm towel.

They moved through their waking rituals quietly, choosing garments, dressing, shaving. Occasionally their eyes met, and they exchanged simple smiles. It was a strange enough friendship, Gavin supposed as he shrugged into the tight fitting claret colored jacket that Marcus held for him. An aristocrat and servant weren't meant to enjoy one another's company in any way, but he and Marcus

had enjoyed one another in every way since they were too young to know any better. If the threats of his father hadn't been able to keep them apart, he didn't suppose that any number of slender young secretaries or golden haired debtors would come between them for long either.

"Don't wait up for me. I've a debt to collect and quite possibly won't be back until very late."

A knowing smile twisted across Marcus's face. "Ah. The delightful Bernard who throws money at you across card tables in gambling hells?"

"Indeed. He comes this afternoon to discuss the repayment of his debt."

"Then I bid you good afternoon My Lord, and look forward to the retelling of your adventures later."