Always His Earl by Cheryl Dragon Page A

couldn’t convince any woman in bed or out.” Myles shook his head.
    “We won’t fight for the honor of you and your sister and then disgrace another woman with a false marriage. I can’t do that. We’ll simply be men of business. I only want you and no lies in my bed.” George kissed the strong back in front of him.
    “You want me? Prove it.” Myles rocked back and went face down again in the bed.
    Kissing the back of Myles’ head, George filled the tight ass until his balls pressed into Myles. Myles moaned in approval and tilted his hips for more. Planting his hands on either side of Myles’ shoulders, George leaned down and fucked Myles like it was their last day.
    “Don’t stop,” Myles said.
    “Never,” George whispered back.
    Myles gripped a pillow and moaned loudly into it. “Harder.”
    Breathing ragged already, George added force and speed until he felt Myles tighten. His ass squeezed George and held him deep inside. Grinding for more friction, George listened to Myles grunt and groan. Those intimate sounds of pleasure shredded George’s control and he came deep inside Myles.
    “Did you mess up my sheets?” George asked as he caught his breath.
    “You can lick it up when I’m fucking your ass.” Myles sighed.
    George smiled and rolled off Myles. Watching the sailor he had ridden recover, George wanted to get his turn. Whatever the servants might think about stains on the sheets didn’t really matter. He paid them well enough to keep secrets if necessary. A man had needs.
    Leaning in, George kissed Myles. “I love you. No matter what happens tomorrow.
    We did the right things at every turn.”
    Myles hugged George tight and kissed him softly. “You’ve saved Claire. You’ve saved me. Tomorrow, you’ll stand by me again. I love you and always have. Every day while I was stuck on a ship, I wished I were back at home. Wherever you were, that’s where I wanted to be. I never gave a damn about my father’s money or estate. It’s mine, but your estate is where I think of as home.”
    The confession made George ache. It hit his heart in a possessive way that only the truth could. Myles was honest and could cut through the nonsense of the world like no one else. George kissed Myles and pulled him on top to feel the heat and closeness.
    There were no words to comfort or answer Myles. It was all true and real. They could feel it. Myles wrapped himself around George and it seemed as if they were one.
    George held on tight and wished tomorrow were behind them already.
    * * * * *
    T he morning of the duel, Myles and George stepped out of the carriage and it rolled away. They’d dressed each other and managed to avoid sexual play. The tension of the dawn would be cured soon with action and both were anxious for an end to the trouble.
    George’s most trusted footman was the only servant who had any direct involvement in the activities of today, except for Myles’ friends who were to come later. The carriage would return in an hour to collect them in whatever state they were left.
    Myles and George remained oddly silent as they waited. Nothing else they could discuss would do any good. Honor wasn’t something that could be brushed aside. He’d gone into battle enough in the last several years that it brought a sense of calm to Myles where other men might be nervous. He believed in his heart that what he was doing today was the right thing.
    “Swords are generally considered more honorable than guns.” George checked the set of dueling pistols and closed the small box.
    “Philips’ choice, not mine. That may be the only smart move he’s made. With a sword, I’d win too easily. That man has no training,” Myles said.
    “We should have insisted on swords,” George said with an annoyed tone.
    “I’m good with a pistol too. Besides, I’ve heard too many stories of seconds picking up swords and more people dying than necessary. Even in war, violence can whip men into a frenzied state where