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Crispin. "Are you certain this is what you want, pet?"
Crispin nodded, eyes bright and sharp, unflinching even as his cheeks burned hotter than they
ever had before, the flush consuming his skin right down to his chest. "I want thorough
instruction. In everything."
There it was again, that sudden boldness even as he was obviously embarrassed. Then again,
when one was naked and spread and hard, there was little sense in remaining hesitant.
Jude laughed softly and spread Crispin's legs, settling between them and slicking his fingers.
"Here I thought you would be a bit frightened. You are not even overwhelmed."
Crispin blinked at him. "Why would I be frightened of you?"
Oh. That was unexpected, and Jude realized that he had well and truly lost the battle against
those things he had avoided thinking upon. He bent to give a kiss, taking Crispin's mouth hard
enough to bruise, as he pushed one finger inside.
He had teased and pressed before, but always halted before matters went too far. Not tonight, and
he pressed the finger deeper, swallowing every gasp and cry. Breaking the kiss, he studied
Crispin's flushed face, the eyes as dark as an evening sky.
"Pretty, pretty," he murmured, and added a second finger, beginning to stretch and prepare
Crispin in earnest now. Beneath him, Crispin moved and pleaded, a sheen of sweat making his
skin shine. He seemed made for pleasure, and something hot and fierce made it suddenly hard for
Jude to breathe.
When he added a third, Crispin's entire body rippled, and he cried Jude's name in a desperate,
eager plea.
A few moments more was all he could take, and Jude shifted to arrange himself properly.
"Breathe, pet," he murmured, then slowly began to push inside. The tight heat, the hot eyes
watching him even as he saw Crispin struggle with the foreign sensation, the initial pain, was
nearly his undoing.
Nearly. Who was he fooling? Certainly not himself, any longer. Crispin had, indeed, proven
himself to be a natural at seducing away hearts. Even hearts he did not want.
Shoving back unwelcome thoughts, for they had no place here, he finally seated himself fully
within and stopped. "Good, pet?" he asked, taking a soft kiss.
"Uh huh," Crispin said, lips warm and pliant, but the fingers diggers into Jude's shoulders belied
the mellow nature of the kiss. "Shouldn't you& move?"
Jude laughed and kissed him again, then braced his hands and slowly withdrew before thrusting
back in. Mm, yes. That was a beautiful sight. "As you command, pet." He began to move in
earnest, slowly at first, but rapidly moving faster, harder, as Crispin quickly proved how much of
a natural he truly was, meeting every thrust, finding their rhythm so easily.
It was not long before Jude found his release, wrapping a hand around Crispin's prick, their cries
tangling together, filling the bedchamber, and the only thing finer was collapsing atop his lover -
his student -- and inhaling their mingled scents.
He stirred a moment later only to fetch a rag to clean them both. It was all too easy, after, to
bundle Crispin close and let sleep snatch him away from those thoughts he still did not want to
linger upon.
*~*~*
Jude conceded, if only in his own head, that it was exactly what he deserved.
Once upon a time, he had met with one of his teachers after classes. Halfway through the
interview, the naïve youth he'd been had stumbled upon the realization his teacher was
attempting to seduce him. Surprised, Jude had given in to it.
That had opened up a world he had never wanted to abandon. By the end of his school days, he
had excelled at lessons precious few knew were on offer. Set loose upon the world, he had only
broadened his education.
The only useful thing he'd ever done with his skills was use them to mark and weed out the rakes
and the cads from among his sister's multitude of suitors. Beyond that& well, up to the very day
they'd died, his parents had said he was nothing but a spoiled brat, and they should have taken
the strap to his backside a bit more often.
Jude had privately agreed, though the devil in him had been tempted to horrify his proper parents
by telling them that in school, he'd had a strap applied to his lovely backside many a time. Such
games had lost their charm as he grew older, but they had amused him for a time.
So at four and thirty, he supposed he was long due for a comeuppance. He had no one but
himself to blame for this, and perhaps that would finally teach him there were worse things than
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