Free Bone Idol by Paige Turner Page B

his slippery cock in his palm and guided it to Albert’s opening, nudging into him, his eyes closing with the shattering excitement of just that small pressure.
    He half feared that he would spend before he could push himself inside his lover, but he encircled the base of his cock with his thumb and forefinger, holding off his crisis.
    He entered Albert with exquisite slowness, gasping as he broached the first, tight ring of muscle and found himself embraced by Albert’s vital heat. Albert moaned, an expression of half pleasure, half pain on his face, and Henry clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle his cry.
    Though he could not stop now for anything, his whole body electrified and aching with arousal, they must not be discovered.
    Albert blinked his acquiescence, and Henry removed his hand, running his palm down the side of his face then clutching at his curls in an excess of desire, his face hovering scant inches above Albert’s.
    “Don’t stop,” Albert whispered. “I love you, Henry. I love you.”
    Henry squeezed his eyes closed, trembling from passion and from the fear that Albert’s innocent declaration caused in him.
    He thrust into him with slow pressure until he was seated to the hilt, his balls tight against the smooth skin of Albert’s buttocks.
    Then Albert wriggled, and Henry was lost. He drove into him with feral urgency, muffling Albert’s cries with his mouth, swallowing his groans as he drove into his body over and over again. Albert clutched convulsively at Henry’s sweat-damp back, his fingers bruising in their eagerness.
    Albert’s cock slid between them, rigid against the flesh of Henry’s belly, lubricated by their sweat and by the glistening, milky fluid already leaking from its tip.
    Then Albert convulsed, burying his face in Henry’s neck, and Henry felt him coat their bellies with slick, sticky strands.
    He stuttered in his rhythm, gasped, and released himself into his lover’s willing body.
    They lay together, breathing heavily, soaked with sweat, Henry’s cock still twitching inside Albert. And they drifted off to sleep together, too tired and too sated to worry about the implications of what they had done.

Chapter Ten
    The next day, in the cool of the dawn, they slipped from the tent and made their way out to the dig site where they had been working the day before. The camp was quiet—the workmen drank hard after their day’s exertion in the heat, and wouldn’t rouse until the sun had come up. Then the foreman would drag himself from his stifling makeshift hut to call them to a breakfast of dried meat and brackish water before their backbreaking labour began once more.
    Henry and Albert had not waited to join the others for breakfast, but had taken a little tea, brewed over a patented travelling stove—a cunning device that could be assembled from parts stored in a small valise—and drunk from chipped enamel mugs. As soon as they were out of sight of the campsite, Henry took Albert’s hand in his own. He didn’t say a word, but returned the smile that Albert gave him.
    They walked in companionable silence, enjoying the cool air now that the rising sun had taken the bitter edge off the biting cold of the desert night.
    “You should not have stayed,” Henry said at last. When Albert turned towards him, lips parted to protest this newest display of heartbreaking propriety, Henry smiled that smile which softened his features and melted Albert’s heart. “Don’t worry, my love,” he said. “I meant only that we were indiscreet. From now on, we should make sure that we sleep in separate tents. One night spent together might be passed off as colleagues falling asleep over some piece of research, but were it to become a habit…”
    Albert almost laughed with relief. “Anything you want, Henry. I shall call you Mr Elkington and cut you in the street if only I can…we can…”
    Henry smiled. He took Albert’s shoulders in his hands and bent his head, bestowing the