"Sit," Grey said after unbuttoning the two buttons of the shirt.
Lord Jethro obeyed, sliding onto the couch with a faint, almost imperceptible tension in his shoulders, his eyes following every move Grey made with a mix of curiosity, anticipation, and that quiet fire Grey always seemed to ignite.
When the shirt finally fell away, exposing Jethro fully, Grey leaned in, pressing his hands against him to guide him back until he was lying against the couch.
Grey sat down on him, their lengths pressing together naturally. He lowered himself further until his chest rested fully on Lord Jethro's bare skin, his cheek resting over the rapid beat of Jethro's heart.
He stayed like that, for a moment, absorbing the warmth, as if he were claiming him.
"You're torturing me," Lord Jethro murmured, his voice low and taut, each word heavy with a mix of pleading and restraint, but Grey didn't step back.
