Free Her Husband’s Lover by Madelynne Ellis

together while simultaneously enjoying a good feel of Lyle’s bottom. Firm muscle filled his palm. The robust swell of Lyle’s cock branded his abdomen, promising … well, promising exactly what he damn well needed.
    It didn’t matter if this lasted a week, for the summer or the rest of his life. He no longer wanted to deny the pull he felt. Instead, he committed to it. No turning back.
    ‘Swive me,’ he purred.
    ‘With pleasure.’ Lyle’s breath warmed his ear. His lips traced the lobe and descended again to his jawline.
    Darleston pushed his hand inside Lyle’s breeches and took pleasure in the feel of Lyle’s erection filling his hand. This was what they both needed. It was a beginning and an end. They’d never properly said goodbye. This was a welcoming hello.
    ‘Trust me.’ Lyle winked as his fingers began to explore beyond the swell of Darleston’s shaft. ‘I learned a trick or two from that vadelect. All you need do a while is relax and enjoy.’ He made swift work of the remaining fastenings and dragged Darleston’s breeches down to where his boots prevented any further descent. Then, having first pressed a kiss to each inner thigh, he bestowed a series of ecstasy-inducing licks to the very eye of Darleston’s cock.
    Darleston lay on his back and stared at the blue sky and swaying bowers. Birdsong filled his ears. Prior to Lyle, the last person to go down on him like this had been Lucy. He might hate his wife, but he’d made a fine job of teaching her how to suck. Yet Lyle breathed fire into his veins in a far more endearing fashion, seeking out tender spots so that the ache in his balls grew almost unbearable. His hips began to roll of their own accord. Fingers gripped him tight. They coaxed his legs further apart, traced circles over his bottom, urged him to lift up and turn over.
    As he rolled onto his front, Darleston eyed the long slim wand that was Lyle’s cock. It had been too long since he’d allowed himself this pleasure. Butterflies began to riot in his stomach as he positioned himself over the trunk as he’d imagined seeing Lyle. He’d needed, had wanted a good pricking for so long, but circumstances had conspired against him and he hadn’t wanted a whore. He’d wanted someone with whom he had a bond.
    Lyle’s hands settled upon his bottom, the touch so light it raised hairs all over his body. The sensation bordered on ticklish and made him realise just how few really good times he’d had playing the bottom role. No man had ever really touched him like this. Past encounters had been swift and frantic – seedy; something done in the dark, without an exchange of names or meaningful emotions. This was broad daylight, out-of-doors and luxuriously tentative.
    Lyle touched him as though he meant to imprint a memory of himself upon the skin. When his thumb brushed the sensitive whorl of Darleston’s anus, he nearly shot up off the bark, it set so many nerves alight.
    Dear God – that was only the trace of one finger.
    Conflicting messages crowded his pleasure centres. Things became even more muddled, even rapturous, when Lyle bent and set his mouth to work where his fingers had strayed.
    Darleston’s eyes drooped closed. He’d definitely never been kissed so intimately before. Within moments his blood ran so hot he swore brandy fumes had replaced his blood.
    ‘You really want this, don’t you?’ A whisper of hot breath assailed his ear. The tip of Lyle’s very cheeky tongue wriggled into another sensitive place. ‘Tell me how much you want it, Robert. Tell me what you’re feeling right now. Having regrets? Any final wishes?’
    ‘Let me feel you.’
    ‘Like this?’ Lyle’s form moulded itself to the curve of Darleston’s back. Loins pressed fast to willing flesh. Why was it that the sensation of a cock poised within the channel of his arse was in some ways more enthralling than the act to which it led? ‘Think you’re relaxed enough yet? Think I’ll slide in without a