Free Bound Forever by Ava March Page B

Oliver, hear it in his gasping pleas for more.
    The orgasm clutched his ballocks in a fist. “Stroke your cock. Come for me,” he urged, needing Oliver to come now.
    With a nod of his bowed head, Oliver worked a hand beneath his belly to stroke his prick in rhythm to Vincent’s thrusts. Those pleas hitched in his throat. “More, Vincent. Please . I…I—”
    Oliver let out a shout. The climax gripping him sparked Vincent’s. On a low growl, he slammed his cock into Oliver with all the force of his lower body, spilling deep within him.
    Panting for breath, he dropped his forehead to Oliver’s shoulder. His pulse pounded through his veins, echoed in his ears. He took a moment to simply bask in the bliss drenching his senses, his muscles finally lax from the tension that had gripped him for seemingly endless hours. Then he gathered his tired muscles and shifted off Oliver to tuck his spent prick back into his trousers.
    Oliver rolled onto his back and gifted him with the most beautiful smile, happy and content and full of love for him. Vincent could not have stopped the smile from curving his own lips even if he tried.
    “Love you,” Oliver said, voice scratchy, as though he’d just woken from a deep slumber.
    “Love you too. Now up with you. It’s damn cold, and I don’t want you to catch a chill.”
    Oliver rolled his eyes but did as Vincent bid. As they made their way back to the horses, Oliver asked, “Any other plans for the day?”
    After the last few hours alone by the pond and a sleepless night, it felt as though it was midevening and not midmorning. The thought of crawling into bed with Oliver, holding the man close, and sleeping the day away held much appeal. But he could not ignore the press of obligations. In any case, lazing the day away in bed with Oliver would certainly draw Mrs. Hollister’s attention. He wished he did not have to hide his love for the man. It just didn’t seem…right.
    Pushing aside the flare of irritation, he said, “I need to see to the post.”
    Oliver swung up onto his horse. Gathering the reins, he speared Vincent with a frown. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? You should relax, get some rest. Perhaps read one of the books lining your study walls.”
    The mention of books reminded him he had a couple of letters to write as well. “I won’t be at my desk all day. And yes, I need to see to the post today, as we need to depart for London tomorrow.”
    Oliver’s frown deepened.
    “You need to get back to your shop.”
    “Well, yes,” he conceded. “It’s just…I like being with you here.”
    Vincent swung up into the saddle and turned his horse from the tree. “As I you.” He didn’t relish the thought of returning to London, to early mornings spent slipping out of Oliver’s bachelor apartments versus simply walking a few steps to his own bedchamber. But given Oliver’s bookshop and his grandmother, and Vincent’s business obligations, spending all their time in Rotherham wasn’t an option.
    He held back the sigh and nudged his black hunter into a canter. As they traveled back to the house, he could not help but think about those two letters he needed to write and why they were even necessary.
    His gaze went to Oliver riding beside him. Even at their pace, Vincent could make out the frayed cuffs of his sleeves and the tattered hem of his greatcoat resting on the chestnut’s back. To Vincent’s knowledge, Oliver had owned that same coat since he was seventeen.
    Unwilling to endure another round of questions from Oliver, he kept the frown from his lips and turned his attention back to the grassy field in front of him. But Oliver’s tattered coat did not leave his mind.

Chapter Seven
     
    “Are you certain, Lord Vincent? This is a significant change and one which should not be taken lightly.”
    “Yes, I am quite certain.” Vincent glared at his solicitor. He had given the matter more than considerable thought over the past week, since he and Oliver had