Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

it.
    Kazuhiro gripped Jonathon's hips and tugged him closer. His cock lined with Jonathon's hole, he sank into him again.
    Jonathon tipped his head back, moaning loud and long. Kazuhiro gazed down at him, drinking in how Jonathon reveled in the pleasure. After entering him the first time, feeling Jonathon move, hearing his moans, he needed to look at Jonathon's face and see him when his climax claimed him. He knew it wouldn't be much longer. Fluid leaked from Jonathon's cock to roll off his abdomen and down his side.
    Kazuhiro shifted his angle, aiming for the hidden spot inside all men that held so much pleasure. Jonathon sucked in a sharp breath, the fingers of one hand clenching the linens in a fist. Kazuhiro took Jonathon's cock in hand, stroking it firm and quick.
    Jonathon's release hit him hard and fast. He groaned hard, his body shuddered as his cum left him, splashing across his chest and stomach.
    A moan of admiration sounded in Kazuhiro's throat at the beauty of Jonathon lost in pleasure. He breathed in the salt and bitter scent of the thick, white fluid, then his own climax was on him.
    Jonathon opened his eyes, watching ecstasy light Kazuhiro's features, feeling the gentle pulse of Kazuhiro's cock spilling cum inside him. He'd craved this for so long, to have a lover like Kazuhiro; kind, strong, skilled, intelligent, beautiful. His throat and chest constricted as he remembered why he was here. To do this with Kazuhiro was to earn his trust only to betray it. At least, that was his original purpose. Tonight, his only purpose was to be with a man who he'd felt drawn to the instant he saw him.
    Kazuhiro eased out of him. He shifted around him and settled down to his back beside him. Jonathon rolled toward him, snuggling into Kazuhiro's side and laying his head on him. A single amused laugh left Kazuhiro, but he still held Jonathon with one arm around him. Jonathon smiled to himself. Such affection after lovemaking seemed to not be a usual habit for Kazuhiro, but it spoke volumes about Kazuhiro's character that he'd put their differences aside and was open to his needs.
    Jonathon closed his eyes. There were so many things about Kazuhiro he didn't know, many things about his ways he didn't understand. But he did understand how others could be loyal to him and be ready to serve him until their death. Honor, pride, strength, compassion; that was Kazuhiro. To simply be close to such qualities was enough to make him willing to give up his own freedom.
    ****
    Jonathon walked down the hall toward Kazuhiro's chambers. His heart raced, his stomach churned with nerves. He wanted desperately to have this conversation with Kazuhiro, and at the same moment, he wished he could avoid it. After the time they'd spent together the night before…and that morning when Kazuhiro took him again, he feared what he was about to tell him would shatter the trust they'd built. He knew he couldn't delay any longer. If he did, it was certain all trust would be lost between them.
    He wondered what this would mean for himself. Kazuhiro's death had meant his freedom. Providing he lived long enough to collect it. But he came to a conclusion in the quiet of the morning, as he lay watching the rising sun illuminate the garden, still feeling Kazuhiro's presence around him though Kazuhiro had already left for the day. What would be the point of freedom in body, when his mind and heart would forever be imprisoned by guilt?
    He didn't know what the future would be for him and Kazuhiro, if there would be any future at all. What he did know was of all the men he'd ever known, none were as noble as Kazuhiro, and he'd rather be damned than take the life of so magnificent a man. Then to even consider doing so to appease the whims of one so lowly as Barrett disgusted him to the point of nausea.
    Jonathon reached Kazuhiro's chambers. He stared at the closed door. It was quiet inside, but he was certain Kazuhiro was there. He'd seen him return, but Kazuhiro had hardly dismounted his horse before a servant rushed up to him with a message. It seemed important because Kazuhiro took it and hastened inside.
    Jonathon drew in a deep breath and lifted his hand to knock. He hoped he wasn't interrupting him, but he couldn't wait any longer to speak with him. Before he could knock on the doorframe, Kazuhiro's voice came from in the room, "Enter, Jonathon-san."
    For all his worry and concern, a smile came to him at hearing Kazuhiro say his given name. He slid the