He found the arch of Henry’s cheekbone to trace, this time. Tanned from sun, from missions, from France; but the color was fading here under English weather. “You may undress me, if you’d like.”
Henry’s smile leapt up like flame, though he tucked it away into stray corners of happiness, the light in his gaze. “Yes, Theo.”
Henry was fairly good at that, which Theo had known: practiced at removing another man’s—or a woman’s; he did know Henry had experience with both—clothing under many circumstances. At the moment Henry chose to make the motions precise, unhurried, careful about each gesture, each button, each slide of fabric. Not overtly sensual—though it was, in the precision, the sensation. Purely focused on the task, a beautiful obedience.
Henry hesitated momentarily at Theo’s smallc
