How To Fall From Grace [MxM]

Step 7: Fall on hard times (pt. 2)

He'd never admit how much it thrilled him.

That empowering sensation, extracting information from those pathetic men holding more power than he did, and doing it completely on his terms. All he had to do was play his part as the charming, wide-eyed, young lord everyone who didn't know him considered him to be, humouring their dirty fantasies and then immediately stopping as soon as he'd gotten what he wanted.

Frey removed his shirt and dropped it on the pile with the rest of his clothes. He was completely naked aside from his stockings, but Lord Carrigan liked it that way.

"Lady Richter is not the kind of person to slip up easily," he said as he hoisted himself up on the writing desk and leaned back, pulling his knees up to rest his entire body on the cold surface. "How likely is it that whatever you've heard would be enough for her to forfeit her land?"

"It concerns her new husband actually." Lord Carrigan sat further away in a comfortable armchair, gaze fixed on Frey's shins. The latter rubbed his knees together with a taunting smile.

"Oh? Has her husband been up to some mischief?" He cocked an eyebrow as he ran a hand along his inner thigh, halting briefly to squeeze part of it, and the corner of Carrigan's mouth twitched. "Are you perhaps not the only family man engaging in scandalous activities?"

"You of all people know very well I'm not." Carrigan's breath had grown heavier as he leaned forward. "Now, spread them."

Frey's arrogant smile remained, and he parted his legs just a little to allow the smallest glimpse.

"How about you tell me a little about her husband first?"

Carrigan narrowed his eyes, crow's feet looking more pronounced that way. Frey was reluctant to admit he'd aged well over the years he'd known him, with hair just beginning to grey here and there and light stubble to emphasise a triangular jaw.

"Beg for it, and I might be generous enough."

"Oh, is that how we're doing it this—"

"Now."

Frey let out a soft breath, pretending to be reluctant about it. In any other case he'd rather be caught dead than begging for something, but at least Carrigan knew it was just an act.

"Please, Lord Carrigan," he said, his voice soft and hoarse as he leaned back. "I want to know, so. Bad."

"Do what I told you first."

Releasing a breath, Frey slowly separated his legs and welcomed the heat blooming in his cheeks, not to mention other parts.

He then gazed up at the other lord expectantly.

"Is that better?" he asked softly, and Carrigan smiled, seemingly more than pleased with the view.

"Much." He made a light gesture at Frey's exposed parts. "Now start using your hand."

"What is this impatience about?" Frey frowned, still playfully, as he looked around the room, pretending to be concerned. "You're not expecting other company, are you? And you haven't actually told me anything yet."

"Do it."

A scowl, and Frey promptly put his knees together again.

"Not until you talk, my dear Lord."

The two shared a stubborn look, but Carrigan finally gave in with an eye roll.

"It turns out her husband isn't the high ranking officer they said he was." He still held his gaze on Frey's knees, and in all honesty the latter wouldn't object to the lack of eye contact. "Apparently she found him in The Entrails."