Convincing Arthur Read Online Free Page A

as the man sank into kiss.
    And for Arthur didn't know how long, he simply kissed Thornton, soaking up the
    feel of the man's body against his, the taste of him, and the sounds of his sighs.
    With a nip, Thornton pulled back enough to break the contact of their lips. Could
    he be any more beautiful? Full lips, stained rose red from their kisses, tousled black
    hair, and flushed cheeks. His features were so patently aristocratic, so fine and sharp
    while at the same time approaching femininity.
    Long, thick lashes swept down. Then the corner of his mouth quirked. A little jolt
    shot up Arthur's spine as Thornton dragged a lazy finger through the remnants of his
    climax coating Arthur's cock.
    “I do believe I shall have to take care of that.” Thornton dropped to his haunches,
    took hold of Arthur's bare hips, and lapped up the seed, licking him clean.
    The caress of his tongue on the highly sensitive skin was…oh, God… decadent. It
    was the only way to describe it. Lush and luxurious, the height of depravity, and the
    most erotic thing he had ever beheld.
    Blood rushed to his groin, his drained ballocks drawing up tight as his prick
    swelled anew under Thornton's careful attention.
    “More?”
    Thornton's voice barely penetrated the fog of lust. Arthur gave his head a shake to
    clear it.
    More what?
    Those plump lips briefly engulfed his crown, answering Arthur's unspoken
    question. So tempting to answer in the affirmative, to give into the need drumming
    through his veins and burning in Thornton's eyes, but…

    18
    Ava March
    Christ, he had just arrived. Less than thirty minutes, and already Thornton had
    brought him to climax once. The knowledge hit him like a splash of ice-cold water,
    harder and harsher than the sharp bite of lust that had gotten him to this point.
    Serious and searching, Thornton's gaze swept his face. Arthur resisted the impulse
    to shift his weight, to avoid those far-too-perceptive gray eyes.
    “Perhaps not. It has been a long day,” Thornton said, as casually as if they were
    sharing a drink at a tavern, and Arthur didn't have his trousers and drawers shoved
    down around his knees.
    As if reading his thoughts, Thornton made to pull up his trousers, but Arthur
    leaned down, his hands fumbling over Thornton's. “I can manage it,” he mumbled.
    Thornton tipped his head, relinquishing the waistband. Arthur tugged up his
    trousers and after a couple of attempts managed to button the top clasp. His drawers
    were bunched around his hips and his shirttail still tucked under his waistcoat, but he
    didn't much care.
    Buttoning the placket of his own trousers, Thornton stood. The few quick snaps of
    his wrist to right his shirt, waistcoat, and coat indicated a familiarity with the routine
    that did not sit well.
    “Good evening, Barrington. I will see you again before the sun rises.”
    With that, Thornton turned on his heel and left the room.
    Arthur stood there, staring at the closed door for a long moment.
    “Well, you wanted to forget Randolph,” he reminded himself.
    At the first sound of Thornton's voice, all thoughts of his last lover had vanished.
    Gone, as if the man had never existed. Even the taste of Randolph's kisses had been
    erased from his memory, wiped away by the hot brush of Thornton's tongue against his
    own.
    He let out a heavy sigh and set to work removing the nut brown coat and cream
    waistcoat that Thornton hadn't bothered with. The two men could not be more

    Convincing Arthur

    19
    different. Randolph was very much like himself, hence why they had rubbed along so
    well together. Well, he liked to believe Randolph was like himself, but lately he hadn't
    been so certain. Ever since they had parted ways, he had been more aware of the
    rumors. Or more accurately, he had grown adept at listening between the lines.
    At least with Thornton he knew exactly the type of man he was dealing with. One
    who subsisted on carnal pleasures and not much else. One who was damn good