At some point Eric came over to get some attention from Anthony too, but it was gratifyingly short and Liam was the one Anthony touched and cuddled all evening.
“Not here, Li,” Anthony suddenly ground out.
Liam paused, realizing that he was sucking on the skin at the base of Anthony’s throat.
Flushing, he shot a guilty look at his younger brothers, but they seemed not to have noticed anything, their gazes on the movie.
Looking up, he met Anthony’s eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he mouthed.
Anthony’s expression softened. Stroking Liam’s cheek, he leaned in and kissed him on the nose.
Liam about melted, feeling a jolt of unbearable affection. Unable to help himself, he stole a quick kiss. Just a short one.
Anthony inhaled sharply, his gaze darkening. “Darling, don’t do it,” he said in a strained voice.
Yeah. He was right. He only wanted more kisses now.
Smiling sheepishly again, Liam put his head back on Anthony’s chest.
Anthony stroked his arm up and down, sending goosebumps all over Liam’s flesh and causing a dull throb to start between his legs.
Liam breathed deeply and fixed his gaze on the screen, pretending that he didn’t want to climb into his brother’s lap and ride his cock right there, their audience be damned.
Later, he would be horrified by his thoughts.
But that would be later.
***
As fucked-up as the situation was, it was the happiest Liam had ever felt.
His heart leapt whenever he entered a room and met Anthony’s warm blue eyes. He could barely stop himself from giving Anthony smiles and smitten looks—in fact, Liam strongly suspected that he failed at that, judging by the pinched expression he sometimes saw on Jules’s face. But thankfully, Jules didn’t comment, because Jules thought Liam had at least stopped having sex with Anthony.
Liam wished he could stop.
He couldn’t.
In fact, the more they had sex, the worse it seemed to get. Liam felt fucking insatiable, always starved for Anthony’s touch, for his hands, for his mouth on him—heck, even his gaze. He wanted Anthony to look at him always.
Liam wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Anthony seemed to fully share his affliction: the moment they were alone, Anthony was pressing him against the nearest wall and kissing him as if he were starved and Liam was the sustenance he needed to survive. It was wonderful. It was heady. Liam adored him.
He still felt guilty, of course. He felt guilty and ashamed and disgusted with himself, but all of it seemed to fade away around Anthony, becoming insignificant. Meaningless. He couldn’t get enough, soaking up Anthony’s kisses like a parched desert soaked up rain.
They didn’t always fuck. It wasn’t always possible, considering that they lived with two brothers and a full staff of servants. Even a stolen kiss was sometimes enough to quench the thirst in him for a little while.
So they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
Liam knew they were being reckless, kissing in the hallways of the house and stumbling into empty rooms for quick, urgent fucks, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He wanted him. That want was so powerful, so encompassing, it felt like necessity. He needed Anthony. He needed his kisses, his arms around him, his scent in his lungs, his cock inside him. He burned for him.
Most of the time, they didn’t even bother to undress, too impatient to have each other. It didn’t matter; Liam didn’t need foreplay. One heated look from Anthony and he was ready, aching for him, slick and eager.
On one memorable occasion, Liam found himself riding Anthony’s cock in the dining room, hard and fast, both of them fully clothed, their mouths panting against each other, their breaths mixing and hearts beating equally fast. Anyone could walk in on them; Liam knew that. He still couldn’t stop. He wanted him.
Afterward, they kissed for what felt like hours.
It still wasn’t enough.
It terrified him.
***
Anthony started coming to his room at night.
They hadn’t discussed it. Anthony just showed up one night and shrugged somewhat sheepishly at Liam’s look. “I wanted to kiss you good night,” he murmured against his lips.
Smiling, Liam looped his arms around Anthony’s neck and spread his legs, welcoming the alpha’s weight on top of him, moaning from how good it felt. How right.
It always felt so right.
One night, as they lay wrapped in each other after sex, Liam voiced the thought aloud.
“This shouldn’t feel so good,” he murmured, his face buried against the side of Anthony’s chest.
Anthony’s arm around him tensed a little, but his hand didn’t stop stroking Liam’s bare back.
Fuck, it felt achingly wonderful: being in this man’s arms, feeling him breathe, just being close to him. Yet at the same time, it failed to fill the longing in his heart, because he knew their time together was limited and come morning he would have to pretend that this man wasn’t the only thing he could see as he walked into the room.