Grey's laughter faded slowly as he noticed Lord Jethro still flushed with embarrassment. "I actually meant that… but not the actual one," he teased, his voice low and playful. "We can't risk that, I doubt my walls are as soundproof as yours."
"What did you mean then?" Lord Jethro asked, curiosity and lingering tension in his tone.
Grey didn't answer, instead, his hand moved slowly, sliding down from Lord Jethro's chest to his stomach, tracing every line with slow, purposeful caresses.
When it reached his arousal, his fingers rubbed against it through the fabric, teasing and insistent, sending a jolt of heat and tension through both of them.
Lord Jethro's breath caught, his pulse spiking, every nerve alight with the impossible, delicious mix of desire and restraint.
