Weaving a few of his fingers into his lover’s beard and gently tugging was enough to garner Hamish’s attention. “What if they discover us?” He didn’t think Gordon would allow even his own mother to pass, but it had been risky enough dancing in the shadows.
Surely, they’d be tempting fate to do anything more?
Grinning, Hamish swept their lips together in several slow kisses that tied Darshan’s insides into a knot. “Then they’ll ken I’ve already picked me a favourite.” He pressed his hand against Darshan’s chest. “Which I will announce once you make it through the forest course.”
“No pressure, then?” Darshan quipped, rather conscious of the effect all this kissing was having on his nethers. Not now. If he could just extract himself with some dignity—
Hamish’s hand slunk lower, cupping the steadily growing bulge in Darshan’s trousers.
“ ‘Mish,” Darshan breathed. “Are you drunk?” All the evidence pointed to such a possibility, although the same could likely be said of himself and he had imbibed very little in the pursuit of keeping his wits about him.
“A little,” Hamish murmured, trailing his fingertips over Darshan’s groin. “I think I ken exactly what you want.”
Darshan remained still. As much as he wanted to entwine his fingers into his lover’s clothes and tear them from Hamish’s body, he steadfastly kept his palms firmly against the ledge. Being drunk was no invitation to paw at the man, no matter how much he believed Hamish would enjoy such reciprocation. “Please do elucidate.”
Chuckling with a wicked delight that prickled Darshan’s skin, Hamish slowly undid the ties to Darshan’s trousers. “I reckon you’re after a big, burly kind of man like meself to pin your arse against whatever surface there is and have their way with you.” Hamish nuzzled at Darshan’s neck, his breath hot. “Am I aiming close enough to the mark?”
Against his better judgement, Darshan tipped his head back. By rights, he should remove himself from the situation altogether, but he couldn’t will himself to tug his lover’s hand free of his trousers. “Dead centre, in fact.”
“Is that all I am?” Hamish asked, the huskiness of his voice all but melting the last of Darshan’s resolve. “A fantasy?”
“Only to begin with.”
His lover rocked back. Even Hamish’s hand shifted to rest on Darshan’s thigh, allowing him a breath of reprieve.
“Was I not that for you?” he pressed.
Hamish’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
“Neither of us had known the other existed for more than a few days before I kissed you.” Gods, had it really only been the better part of a month since then? It felt more like a distant memory. “In all honesty, if things had gone the way they do back home, we would have spent one night, maybe two, together and that would have been it.”
His lover offered up little more than a harrumph.
“And it would have been a terrible waste.” He caressed Hamish’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “To miss knowing you, mea lux.”
Hamish pressed his lips to the heel of Darshan’s palm.
“So yes, I do imagine you doing those things you mentioned—and even the naughty thoughts still swimming through your mind that you dare not voice—but I fear it is only because I cannot imagine doing them with anyone else.”
“Naughty thoughts?” Hamish whispered, his lips brushing Darshan’s palm with every word. “Like this?”
Before Darshan had the wherewithal to grasp what his lover was doing, Hamish had already tugged Darshan’s trousers down. The fabric pooled at his ankles, neatly trapping him should he dare to think of immediately vacating the area. His drawers were also swiftly worked down, releasing Darshan into the night air.
His lover’s fingers, their grip firm but gentle, wrapped around Darshan’s length.
He sagged against Hamish. “You might be a while there.” Getting off on manual manipulation wasn’t always a given. Darshan had to be very close to the edge first. Had they such time?
Darshan dared to glance at the stairway entrance. Would they hear anyone entering in time to not be caught?
Hamish chuckled, soft and low. “I dinnae think I will be.” He cradled Darshan’s jaw. His scarred thumb brushed along Darshan’s cheekbone.
He obeyed the gentle request for him to turn his head and meet Hamish’s gaze. A strange warmth flowed through him at the sight. He sat here, half naked, barely having Hamish’s hands upon him.
Should he really feel so… loved?
“You are breathtaking,” Hamish whispered.
Had this been any other time, any other man, Darshan would’ve been quick with a witty reply or flippant retort. He’d had plenty of men flatter him or speak his praises. But faced with such a vision of raw adoration…
Words failed him.
“Consider this as a reward for your little victory.” Hamish sank to his knees. His breath ghosted across Darshan’s exposed groin.
Darshan’s lips parted, a protest on his tongue. Nothing escaped beyond a gentle groan.
Wetting his lips, Darshan rallied his senses for a second attempt. “And if someone hears us?” All it would take was for one moan to leave his throat a little too exuberantly and anyone could just wander up here to investigate. Not without barging past Gordon, of course, but there was little else to stop a person. He was not some exhibitionist, exposing himself to all and sundry. Not without a great deal of alcohol, at least.
“They willnae hear a thing if you’re quiet.” Hamish lowered his head. His lips closed over the tip of Darshan’s length. He slid down a ways, not enough to engulf him, but it—
Gods.
Thankfully, the ledge supported his weight or he would’ve dropped. Darshan pressed his fist tightly against his lips, the rings digging into his skin. Silence wasn’t his forte. Especially when the mouth in question was this damn talented and… Magical. Maybe it actually was. Glorious and warm. A talent that had been utterly wasted for so many years.
His lover’s head bobbed in earnest, making good on his prediction that he was definitely
