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He had almost been kissed to the point of asphyxiation, and to his shame, Walker found that in reply to Wiltshire's titillation, his body --- long since accustomed to desire --- had given a response that he had no way of hiding.
“Stop pretending, you obviously like me touching you!” Peeling off Walker's defending hands, Wiltshire actually tried to undo the buttons of his trousers right there, in a public place with numerous people...
“Get lost! Don’t touch me!” Although he knew that Wiltshire had no sense of propriety, he had never thought that he would be this brazen. Overcome by shame and resentment, Walker put all of his strength into a shove and actually managed to push the Marquess, who was still immersed in a sea of desire, out from the cover of the curtains, and he fell onto the marble floor.
“Goodness, my Lord the Marquess of Wiltshire!”
“It’s the Lord Marquess!”
“My Lord Marquess, are you alright?”
The women who were standing close-by shrieked and they all gathered around Wiltshire, who cut a sorry figure as he lay on the floor facing up, which was the position his fall had left him in. With the state of affairs so awkward, naturally Walker could not choose to reveal his presence at this time, and he could only continue to hide behind the curtains.
After having been helped to his feet by the aristocratic ladies, not only did Wiltshire not display even the slightest degree of shame, but he actually turned his face to the heavens and laughed. The ladies were quite clearly stumped by his laughter and could only look at him in confusion, not knowing what they should do.
“My apologies, my apologies! My dear ladies, if I can become the focus of your attention by kissing the floor, I am all too willing to try it a few more times.” With much difficulty, Wiltshire finally managed to stop laughing. As he was brushing off the dust on his jacket, he did not forget display the distinctive qualities of his smooth-talking, playboy persona.
“My Lord Marquess, it would seem that not even the pristine countryside has had the ability to make you the slightest bit more virtuous!” A woman, who was wearing a green gown with a plunging neckline, covered her mouth with her fan and giggled, not neglecting to put on a tone that was replete with flirtatiousness as she made a reply to Wiltshire.
“Brett, why did you want to stay in a rural place like Stonehaven for so long? You should know that it was such a regrettable thing for us not to be able to see you at these parties!” Another woman, whose whole body was adorned with pink lace, chose to address him by his first name to flaunt her close relationship with Wiltshire.
“Yes, oh yes. Also, my dear, you didn’t even write a single letter to me! You clearly promised me that you would.” Clearly quite displeased by the other two women behaving so familiarly with Wiltshire, a young and gorgeous woman wearing a pearl tiara forced her way to Wiltshire's side and admonished him coquettishly [1] as she leaned against his arm.
Within a short period of time, a dozen or so women were pushing and shoving at each other, vying for a position that was of closer proximity to Wiltshire. The sense of intimacy they had with the Marquess caused Walker to seethe with anger, so much so that he was almost spouting smoke through his seven orifices.
Walker was secretly stewing over Wiltshire's fickle heart and shamelessness when all of a sudden, a pair of strong arms dragged him out of his hiding place.
“Ladies, my apologies. Although I would very much like to chat with all of you for a while longer, I have some important business to discuss with this gentleman. Could I trouble everyone to make way?” His face plastered with a fake smile, he was displaying every courtesy but the hands he had clasped around Walker were like steel pincers --- powerful and merciless.
“Goodness! Brett, who is this gentleman! Could you please introduce [2] me?” When they saw Walker's handsome and strong figure and facial features, the eyes of the gathered women began to gleam; they had already grown tired of looking at the aristocratic males and their so-called elegant comportment, which really just came off as effeminate. One after another, each woman continuously tugged at the Marquess and requested that he introduce Walker to her.
Wiltshire saw that Walker had been squeezed in the middle of a pack of women who seemed to resemble hungry wolves and tigers. From the look on his face, he would appear to be confused and disoriented, and in addition, his face was flushed scarlet. Under these circumstances, Wiltshire was certainly not about to introduce him to any of them. “Apologies! The matter is really very urgent; we shall speak more when we meet up again in a short while. Apologies!” As if his life depended on it, he gripped Walker tightly and struggled free of the encirclement created by the crowd. Walking away quickly, he only released his grip when they were in a lounge by the side of the grand ballroom.
“Wait for me here, I will go look for the Prince Regent right now and after I have spoken with him, we will leave immediately.”
Walker was totally confounded by his current attitude of burning anxiety. Before they had left his manor, this person had appeared to be bouncing with enthusiasm at the prospect of attending this party, but now, he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to leave immediately. In any case, when it came right down to it, Walker found it impossible to blend into this type of social occasion, which was full of upper-crust men and women who spoke in such a highfalutin manner, and therefore, he certainly would not object to leaving early.
He watched as Wiltshire walked with hurried steps and disappeared through the door. In his boredom, Walker could only walk towards the bookshelf and pick out a book to read.
“Tennyson [3]? Your taste seems to be rather unusual.” After he had been reading for a while, the languid tones of a man drifted from the doorway, interrupting his reading. Walker raised his head and saw that it was Earl Thuram, who was holding a glass of wine in his hand as he looked at him while leaning against the door.
“I've been to Stonehaven numerous times, but I never heard that Brett still had any relatives living in that area.” The Earl drained the wine from his glass in one gulp and carelessly threw the vessel away. There was a hint of challenge in the depth of his eyes as he looked at Walker.
Not understanding the Earl's intentions, Walker could only look back at him for a moment, but he soon recovered the ability to behave naturally. “The Lord Marquess and I are only very distantly related, and I do not have any title of nobility, it is only natural that I did not have the opportunity to meet your acquaintance.”
“Humph!” The attitude that Thuram was displaying towards Walker was entirely different from how he had behaved when Wiltshire had been by his side. He gave a cold laugh and said with a mocking tone of voice: “More like a relative that suddenly came out of nowhere? I never knew that Brett could be so generous as to put up the money to outfit his poor relations head to toe with expensive clothes and going so far as to bring him along to attend one of the Prince Regent’s soirees. “
Walker's expression became hard, dropping the book he had in his hands, he slowly stood up. At six feet tall, he was a full head taller than the Earl. In addition, his broad shoulders and long, well-muscled legs, made his form appear even more intimidating.
Without meaning to, Earl Thuram took a step back, but he very quickly stuck his chest out and met Walker's eyes fearlessly. Undisguised provocation and contempt were written in that pair of azure eyes, causing Walker to be absolutely taken aback; he did not have the slightest idea how he aroused such enmity.
Wiltshire's timely reappearance interrupted the two people as they faced off with mutual hostility.
“Walker…” When he noticed Earl Thuram, Wiltshire was clearly startled, “David, why are you here?”
When he heard Wiltshire's voice, Thuram quickly turned back. As if by magic, the ferocious look on his face was instantly replaced by a gentle and sweet expression.
“Brett, have you found Henry? How did your conversation with him go?” He smiled, and his blue eyes were also filled with a smiling look as they gazed upon Wiltshire.
Walker was utterly incapable of believing that any human could actually alter their mood within such a short period of time and he could only stare blankly at the Earl --- who now looked to be the archetypal angel --- in a daze.
“Nothing much.” Wiltshire did not seem willing to speak further; he grabbed Walker with a hand and hurriedly bid his friend goodbye: “David, I’m really sorry, there is something I must attend to, I can only leave first.”
“Take care on your way home!” The Earl approached, gave his friend a light hug and even shook hands with Walker very politely before saying: “See you again, Mr. Robinson. Although it was only for a short time, I still feel that speaking to you is a very pleasant thing.”
There was nobody who could possibly connect this gentle-faced Earl to the nasty youngster of just a moment ago. Even after he had been dragged up the horse carriage by Wiltshire, Walker still unconsciously touched the hand that had been gripped by the Earl, still unable to make any sense of that performance --- how he had appeared to be a completely different person before and after Wiltshire's appearance.
“What happened, what are you thinking of?” Suddenly, a pair of strong hands was braced on the carriage walls, one on either side of his head, and Wiltshire's face was almost pressed up against his own.
“Hey, don’t be like this…” Feeling the Marquess's hands wrap around him tightly, Walker quickly and desperately tried to use his hand to push way Wiltshire's lips, which were closing in on his own. “I really cannot understand why you always become especially excited whenever we get on a carriage?”
“What do you mean I become especially excited when we get on a carriage! God knows how much I wanted you when I touched you just now, but it was just a damn shame that we were at a party thrown by the Prince Regent! It wasn’t easy for me to endure till now…” With a look of frustrated desire on his face, Wiltshire did his best to kiss Walker.
“What do you mean endure till now? Are you a wild beast?” Walker pledged with his life that he would resist this time; God knows that just before they had attended the ball today, Wiltshire's beastly nature had reared its head and he had pushed Walker, who had been dressing, onto the bed! He totally could not comprehend how this Marquess of Wiltshire, with his noble appearance, could have a brain that was seemingly filled with sex and nothing else.
Wiltshire had seemingly decided that he did not wish to waste any more time on talking Walker around. He devoted all of his energy to trying to pin down Walker, but when it only resulted in a lengthy stalemate, he then lifted his hand and drew up the drapes of the carriage.
“Nick, stop the coach.” He shouted in the direction of the coachman.
With that, the carriage quickly came to a stop, Wiltshire tugged at the baffled Walker and they got off the carriage together. Without even bothering to turn his head, Wiltshire instructed the coachman to wait for them at that very spot before proceeding to hustle Walker into a dark alley by the side of the road.
“God! Are you mad?” Although it was not yet winter, there was already a slight chilliness to the air during this time of night in London. Wiltshire only halted his steps when they were inside the deserted, narrow and dark alley, by that time, Walker’s breathing was already a bit laboured due to the pace Wiltshire had set. In a lowered voice, he made his complaints.
The only reply he got was Wiltshire's powerful arms coiling around him and the sound of his urgent breaths by the side of his ear.
“You are such a…” Before he had enough time to spit out the rest of his words, they were sealed in his mouth by a pair of lips that claimed his own fiercely.
Employing all the tricks and techniques he knew of, he did his utmost to titillate Walker as he kissed him. Lifting up his shirt, Wiltshire's nimble fingers forcefully pinched the little protrusions at the front of his chest.
“Uh…” The harsh invective Walker had wanted to hurl at the Marquess turned into a groan in Wiltshire's mouth. To his shame and humiliation, he found that the Marquess's teasing had rapidly produced a reaction from his body; his legs parted slightly as if they had a mind of their own. Needless to say, Wiltshire immediately seized the opportunity with both hands and lodged himself between them while looping an arm tightly around Walker's waist.
“God, we must be crazy! God forgive me!” The Scotsman was muttering these things in his mouth, but under the sway of his own desires, he still allowed the Marquess to remove his shirt. His burning body was suddenly exposed to the cold winds of the night, causing him to quiver a little.
Touching Walker's warm and naked body with his hands, Wiltshire was completely unable to restrain or enduring the desire raging in his chest. Not giving any thought to their surroundings, he pulled off the valuable jacket and shirt he was wearing, and carelessly threw them to the ground. While both of his hands meandered down Walker's body, following the contours of his strong figure, he could not resist sucking on the little fruits at the front of his chest with his mouth.
“Uh… Ah…” Having his sensitive areas teased in the most provocative way by that moist tongue caused Walker's mind to become a blank slate. The desire on his lower body had engorged so much that it seemed to be a like a piece of red-hot iron, unable to help himself, he wanted to reach out with his own hand and grasp his own erection…
But both of his hands were captured by Wiltshire and twisted behind his back forcefully, spurred on by their maddening lust, the two people totally lost themselves in the moment. The Marquess's tongue traced Walker's well-defined abdominal muscles as it continued to travel downwards, where Wiltshire took Walker's fully erect desire into his mouth.
When the warm and moist walls of Wiltshire's oral cavity enveloped him, Walker's body quaked violently; but when Wiltshire began to move and stir up that sensitive object in his mouth, in a flash, the Scotsman completely lost awareness of anything else, his conscious mind fragmenting to drift in the cold autumn winds of the London night…
“Ah, let go! Let go! Let me… let me out…” He could not say when exactly he had stopped, but Wiltshire was no longer restraining Walker's hands and yet, all thoughts of resistance had already flown from Walker's mind. Both of his hands were placed on the Marquess's head and they moved up-and-down following the back-and-forth movements of Wiltshire's mouth.
Although his tongue was rotating without restraint, caressing the erection in his mouth in an obscene fashion, both of Wiltshire's hands were tightly clamped around the base of Walker's desire, constraining it and not allowing him to release. Wave after wave of throbbing aches, which also brimmed with pleasure, rose up from the bottom of his lower abdomen; Walker was almost driven to the point of collapse by the desire that clamoured to be released.
“Let go…” Walker's voice had nearly turned pleading; unconsciously, the hand he had placed at the back of the Marquess's head was pressing against it with force, and he was beginning to have difficulty standing upright because his legs were trembling slightly.
The Marquess did not reply, but with the sudden removal of his hands, and the sudden spurting out of his desire that followed it, Walker's climax brought him to the peaks of pleasure, such as he had never experienced before. Yet, even before he had the chance to savour the aftershocks that accompanied that type of pleasure, in the very next moment, he found that his legs had already been lifted.
Using the semen that the Scotsman had shot out, the Marquis entered into the Scotsman's body straightaway. After wild thrusting movements, the two of them reached their climaxes almost simultaneously.
When they were done, Walker practically needed Wiltshire's help just to get onto the carriage. When the carriage began to move again, the Scotsman sitting inside was half-lying in the Marquess's bosom. The two people were silent as they embraced, but both of them still trembled because of the intense passions they had revealed in front of the other just a short period of time ago.
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[1]: The original term in the Chinese text is “撒娇 (sā jiāo)”. There is no exact equivalent for this in the English language I think. It is something like whining, but in a flirtatious/spoiled manner, but the person that is doing it is confident that the other party would be receptive. The other party is usually a loved one. It’s not limited to a pair of lovers, a child could also do this to his parents or elder relatives.
[2]: It was generally unacceptable to speak to anyone of good breeding without a formal introduction by a third party. Only those of a higher social rank could approach someone he did not know. People of a lower or equal rank had to wait for an introduction by a friend or a master of ceremonies.
[3]: Probably referring to Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson (6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892), one of the most popular British poets of all time.