“So, how goes wedded bliss, Lord Anderson?”  Lord de Bourg asked, greeting his host with a raised glass.

The ball had been an overwhelming success, with everyone who had been invited – even at short notice – in attendance, along with a few members of society that Blaine had never seen before in his life. This was Lord Anderson's first ball in ages, and the first introduction of his new husband into society besides. An invitee to this event would have to be dead to turn down such an invitation. There was no other intelligent excuse to decline.

“I must say, your husband is rather winning, my lord,” Lady de Bourg added. 

“You think so?” Blaine asked proudly, glancing around the room to catch a glimpse of his husband. “Have you met him? I did not see him come down.”

“We just now had the pleasure,” Lady de Bourg replied. “Rumor has it that he made that splendid suit that he's wearing himself. Is that true?”

“It is,” Blaine said with a smug grin.

Blaine scanned the room until his eyes settled on Kurt, dressed in a suit of midnight blue, speaking to the rapt attention of an intimate circle of lords and ladies, each hanging on his every word. His sparkling blue eyes lighted on each face with a genuine sincerity rarely seen in lords of his station, especially in the younger, more affable ones. His smile lit up his corner of the hall, and eventually, his was the only face that Blaine could see. A glow surrounded Kurt - a gold wash from head to toe. It drew everyone around him toward it like the moon called the tides. And now, it had finally ensnared Blaine. Kurt turned and caught Blaine's gaze. A small blush dotted his cheeks - an indication that he had noticed Blaine's attentions. It delighted Blaine to know that he could make his husband blush like that. Kurt smiled shyly before returning to his admirers, each vying for his audience.

“Lord Anderson?” The baron's voice snapped Blaine back from his husband's magic spell. “Lord Anderson, are you all right?”

“Hmm, yes, right,” Blaine recovered. “What was that again?”

“I said,” the baron remarked, sharing a knowing look with his wife, “your husband will have the whole of London eating out of his hand before long, but I can see by the look on your face that you know that already.”

Lord de Bourg clapped Blaine on the shoulder as he started to lead his wife away.

“It's nice to see you finally settle down, Lord Anderson,” Lady de Bourg said with a curtsy, hiding a chuckle behind her fan as she followed her husband away.

Blaine moved through the crowd, not paying mind to the numerous lords who approached with commentary on this matter or that, or other random faces that smiled and congratulated him as he passed by. All he could see before him was that heavenly golden light and the handsome face it surrounded. Weaving through the crowd of his entourage, Blaine walked over to Kurt and offered him his arm.

“My lord,” Kurt greeted Blaine warmly, the blush returning to his cheeks. “Have you come to offer me the Andante?”

“No, my lord,” Blaine replied, his usually collected voice edged with a raw desire that Kurt detected even as those around them did not. “I have come to offer you something else, if you would permit me.”

The blush that warmed Kurt's face spread down his neck, heat pooling in his stomach, and then traveling further down between his legs. Unable to speak, he simply nodded, not even finding the voice to excuse himself from the crowd.

“Please, excuse us,” his husband offered in his stead as he led Kurt through the hall.

“You do not wish to dance, my lord?” Kurt asked, his head bowed to hide his sheepish smile.

“At the moment, I have not the heart or mind to dance,” Blaine said, unwilling to take his eyes from Kurt's face. The downward pout of Kurt's lips and the under-turn of his long, lush lashes intrigued Blaine. Blaine wanted to sweep Kurt up in his arms and kiss him there in front of all present, but Blaine waited, lingered in the moment of Kurt's demure glance, biding his time, challenging his own resolve.

Blaine had thrown up so many barriers between himself and his husband. Ever since the loss of his leg, Blaine had never seen himself as a match for anyone. He had felt no affection for those who had taken his coin in exchange for pleasure. He knew that if there was one person who could make him even remotely happy, it was Kurt.

He was right. Looking at Kurt now, it was as if he were laying eyes on him for the first time. His heart swelled with the knowledge that Kurt was his - that they belonged to each other.

Blaine sneaked Kurt up the stairs to Kurt's bedchamber, showing no concern for the few stares that followed them.

“Blaine!” Kurt scolded in a whisper when they were out of earshot of the other guests.

“Ah!” Blaine said, turning at the door. “I like that. Hopefully you will call me that a lot when we are inside…” He leaned close, letting his lips barely graze Kurt's mouth. “Hopefully I'll give you reason to say it over and over and over… “Blaine opened the door behind him and dragged his husband into the room.

“My lord,” Kurt said, objecting half-heartedly when Blaine began to undress him. Blaine did not stop, taking great care with Kurt's garments, setting them over the back of a chair so as not to ruin them. “My lord, I…”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Blaine said, working his way into the rear of Kurt's underclothes to cup his buttocks. “If you continue to address me as such, I will be forced to spank you.”

Kurt looked shocked, but then his face morphed into a more sportive veneer.

“And is that how you maintain your title, my lord?” Kurt asked cheekily. “By making promises that you don't keep?”

Blaine countered Kurt's amused expression with a dark one, and grabbed his husband firmly about the waist.

“What!?” Kurt cried. “No…Blaine!”

Even with the fault in his leg, it took only a second for Blaine to drag a giggling, struggling Kurt to the bed, sit down, and throw Kurt over his knee. In this position, Kurt could feel Blaine's hard, unforgiving false limb digging into his stomach, but he made no mention of it, not wishing to embarrass his husband, especially when he was behaving playfully.

“Now, shall I tug your pants down and bare your bum like the spoiled brat you are?” Blaine threatened. “Or do I leave them up and give you some semblance of dignity?”

“Blaine!” Kurt whined as he wiggled to be free, only to be pushed back into position by the flat of Blaine's hand. “I apologize. I was wrong. Please accept my sincerest regrets for doubting your integrity.”

Blaine carefully peeled down the back of Kurt's pants over the rounded crest of his buttocks as Kurt rambled, rubbing his palm over the smooth skin of Kurt's rear. Blaine heard Kurt stop speaking mid-sentence and gulp hard.

“Such pretty words,” Blaine muttered as he continued to massage Kurt's buttocks with his palm, “but a much prettier behind…”

“Blaine!” Kurt squealed.

“So pale…your skin is so pale,” Blaine murmured. “I would much rather see it pink.”

“Blaine!”

Blaine pulled his arm back quickly and swatted his husband on the behind with the flat of his palm.

Humiliation sparked in Kurt's body at that single strike, but it was gone in an instant, and the sensation it left in its wake was indescribable. It pinged around in his body like a shock of lightning, and then settled straight in his groin, making him immediately hard.

Blaine seemed to know it, too. If he didn't, Kurt had stopped struggling to get away. That was probably a clue.

“Shall I do that again, husband?” Blaine asked, his voice carrying hints of his smug grin.

Kurt finally remembered himself, remembered that he shouldn't be enjoying this debasing act, and struggled furiously.

“Certainly not, you horrible fiend!” Kurt blustered. “How dare you spank me? I am your husband!”

“Whom else would I spank?” Blaine asked and swatted Kurt's behind again, this time a little harder.

Kurt's balls and cock rubbed along the inside of his pants, which were pulled tight by his position bent over Blaine's lap. Try as he might, he could not contain the resulting moan the friction caused.

“So you sincerely wish for me to stop?” Blaine asked, spanking Kurt again, feeling Kurt tremble as he tried to contain his moaning. Blaine reached around Kurt's waist and took hold of his cock, which throbbed and bucked at his touch. “I think you may be enjoying this a little more than you let on.”

“Stop,” Kurt squeaked out unconvincingly. “Stop now or I shall never forgive you.”

“Well, I can't have that,” Blaine said, leading Kurt gently onto his stomach on the bed. “Maybe I can figure out a way to make it better?”

“I don't…I don't see how,” Kurt commented in a wavering voice.

“Maybe if I made love to my husband,” Blaine said, his voice sultry as he undressed, “he might forgive me?”

“I guess that…it wouldn't hurt to try,” Kurt offered, getting up on his knees, preparing to sit on the bed and watch his husband while he undressed, but Blaine caught him by the shoulders again the way he had before.

“But, my lord…” Kurt beseeched with hurt in his voice.

“I would like to make love to you this way, Kurt,” Blaine explained, preferring to shield himself in the safety of a white lie. Blaine would love to lie back and have Kurt ride him, to look into his husband's eyes as he came, to see his smile of contentment, but Blaine couldn't reveal himself to Kurt – not quite yet. “It gives me a chance to glory in your entire body.” As if to prove his point, he let his hands roam freely over Kurt's back and shoulders, tracing the patterns of Kurt's muscles with his fingertips. He watched as Kurt abandoned his bruised feelings, letting his head drop forward on his shoulders.

Blaine bent Kurt forward over the bed, testing Kurt's willingness to allow Blaine to take him in this way. Kurt complied, stretching his arms out in front of him on the bed, allowing Blaine full and unguarded access to his body.

Blaine made short work of his own clothes. In his eagerness to school his young husband in the ways of pleasure as he preferred them, Blaine slowly lowered Kurt's pants the rest of the way, pulling them carefully off his legs. There Kurt lay, naked before him. Only his hose, pulled to his calves, remained. Blaine ran a finger between Kurt's cheeks and felt an undeniable shiver course down Kurt's leg. It seemed to travel down Kurt's leg and up Blaine's arm, causing his hand to shiver as well. He parted Kurt's legs and ran his hands up the incline of his inner thighs, falling short of his balls, which hang loosely there.

The sound of Kurt's delicate moans chipped away at Blaine's resolve.

“Kurt…do you have any…”

“There,” Kurt pointed, unwilling to move as long as Blaine kept touching him.

Blaine laughed lightly as he followed Kurt's direction, finding the same ampoule sitting on the dresser among other bottles and jars of various liquids and lotions that Blaine made a note to investigate later, as they all looked and smelled so intriguing.

He probably should have gone slower, taken his time, but it had been so long since that first time they had shared together – that first time in paradise – that Blaine couldn't wait, and from the way Kurt balled his fists and pounded them on the bed, it seemed that maybe Kurt didn't want to be kept waiting either.

“What do you want me to do to you, my love?” Blaine asked, coating his fingers with oil and exploring the circle of muscle around Kurt's entrance. “Should I put my fingers inside you? Should I open you up and keep opening you up until you beg me to make love to you?”

“D-do you need to hear me beg, my lord?” Kurt asked, letting out a long, sustained moan when Blaine slowly pushed one finger into his body.

“Of course not, my love,” Blaine said. “All you need do is ask.”

“Blaine?” Kurt said between prolong moans from Blaine's sublime torture. It took him a minute to form the words together, adrift on this wave of ecstasy the Blaine kept him floating on. “Wou---would you make love to me?”

Blaine pushed his finger in and out of Kurt's body, dragging slowly, crooking inside until he found a spot that made the breath catch in Kurt's throat and his entire body shudder.

“Blaine!” Kurt moaned, pulling at the covers on his bed, moving against the mattress, trying to find friction for his cock amid Blaine's heavenly ministrations.

Blaine wanted to make love to Kurt, more than anything, but Kurt's body was so exceptional, so engrossing in the way he moved and arched and whined. Never before had Blaine had such a man at his disposal, except in his dreams.

And even then, that man was Kurt.

But not a single dream he had could rival this.

“Alright, my love,” Blaine relented, pulling his fingers from Kurt's body, almost fumbling the ampoule of oil as he coated his fingers further and used them to lather his cock.

“Blaine…” Kurt whimpered, rutting against the mattress.

“Patience,” Blaine said, stopping for a moment to appreciate the sinewy movements of his husband's body as fucked himself against the bed. “I'm moving as fast as I can.”

“You said…you wanted…to hear me…say your name,” Kurt panted, stopping when he felt Blaine put hands on his hips to hold him still.

“That is true,” Blaine said, “but wait until I am inside you, my love, or this may not last long.”

“Do you like to hear me say your name, my lord?” Kurt asked innocently.

“You know that I do,” Blaine said, moving slowly, in and out, first just the head of his cock, and then deeper and deeper as his husband spread himself open to accept him.

“Blaine,” Kurt uttered, hiding his small gasps of pain within the shelter of Blaine's name. “Oh, Blaine…”

Blaine's fingers slipped around the flesh of Kurt's hips as he tried to take hold. His left hip ached as this bed was lower than Kurt's bed at the countryside manor, and he felt himself slipping as he tried to maintain his pace.

Kurt felt the shift in Blaine's stance, heard the way he cursed under his breath. Kurt lifted his ass higher, pushing back to meet his husband, trying to take the burden off of Blaine to do all the work.

“Kurt!” Blaine gasped when he saw Kurt maneuver to help him, his knees going weak when Kurt took the initiative to pound himself back on his husband's cock.

“Blaine!” Kurt groaned, arching his back like a cat and moving faster, begging to cum. Blaine was helpless to do anything but watch. The sight of Kurt, pounding against him, taking pleasure from Blaine's body, made Blaine dizzy. Blaine had seen himself as broken for so long, that sex had become little else than blowing off steam. But this, this was a gift.

“Yes, Kurt,” Blaine mumbled, his fingers tightening their grip around Kurt's hips. “Yes, just…just do that…Kurt…”

Blaine's voice was fading, his body going rigid as he started to cum, and it filled Kurt with a feeling of power. Kurt was in control of this incredible man – a man that people feared and respected. Blaine had sense enough toward the very end to reach out a shaking hand and stroke Kurt's cock. It didn't take much. In fact, Blaine's whimpers in Kurt's ears did more than those few strokes – the way his strong voice broke as he chanted Kurt's name, and how those chants became grunts as his body failed him.

Kurt came over Blaine's fist – hard and hot – until it felt like everything within him had bled away and he hadn't any strength left. His knees slipped out from under him, and his legs quaked.

“Stay right here, my love,” Blaine said, pushing away from Kurt's body. “Let me get you cleaned you up.”

“I can…”

“Please?” Blaine asked. His voice sounded small, and Kurt knew what he was really asking. Please, don't turn around. Please, don't look. Kurt sighed and stayed still, convincing himself that he probably couldn't have gotten up off the bed even if he tried.

“Alright, my lord,” Kurt said.

Kurt felt more vulnerable waiting for Blaine to do this then he did spreading himself open for Blaine to make love to him. It seemed more intimate in a way. Kurt wanted to help, wanted to be a part of it.

He wanted Blaine to trust him with this secret.

“Will you ever tell me how you lost your leg, my lord?” Kurt asked, not eager to spoil such a beautiful evening by pinning Blaine to a topic he'd rather not discuss, but not knowing caused Kurt more distress than he had ever imagined.

Kurt felt Blaine run a wet cloth down his body, paying special attention to his rear, covered in his husband's cum.

“I lost it on the same night that I lost my brother,” Blaine said plainly.

Kurt had imagined a bunch of awful scenarios connected to the loss of Blaine's leg, but this he would have never guessed.

“I am sorry,” Kurt said.

“It's all right, my love,” Blaine said with a gentle kiss to Kurt's neck – just a brush of his lips, but it filled Kurt with such warmth that he felt fit to melt into the mattress. He could have drifted off to sleep, but he stopped himself, too intrigued by the tale Blaine had to tell. 

Blaine helped Kurt up onto the bed, and then climbed up behind him. They lay uncovered – Kurt undressed, and Blaine in his pants and stockings to cover his false limb. Blaine held Kurt in his arms and closed his eyes, drudging up the dreadful memory.

“My brother, Cooper, was called upon to fight an honor duel. There's a long story behind that, and now is not the time to tell it…”

Kurt nodded, snuggling back into Blaine's embrace.

“I went along as Cooper's second and his witness,” Blaine continued, kissing Kurt on the shoulder to fortify his voice. “We arrived at the agreed upon place, but there was no one there. We waited. It became dark. We were about to leave…” Kurt could feel Blaine's arms shake, and he put his hands over them and held him. “Instead of a duel, it was an ambush. Men jumped us from all sides – men wearing dark cloaks and armed with swords…and torches. We fought, but there were too many men…just too many.” Kurt felt a tear roll down his shoulder, but Blaine's voice never wavered. “They set Cooper on fire,” Blaine said, and then he paused, grinding his teeth together. Kurt turned in Blaine's arms and put a hand to his wet cheek.

“You don't have to…”

Blaine took Kurt's hand in his and kissed his palm.

“I tried to snuff the flame out,” Blaine said, “but it caught on my clothes. I couldn't…I couldn't stand the pain. I dropped to the floor to roll the flame out, but I saw them coming for me.”

Blaine sniffled, dropping his head. Kurt kissed Blaine's forehead. He kissed him over and over. There was nothing else for Kurt to do – no way to bring Cooper back or to erase this memory.

“They would have killed me, too,” Blaine said quietly, “and I…I was afraid. I was a coward, Kurt.”

“No,” Kurt said, gathering Blaine in his arms, running his fingers in Blaine's hair. “You weren't a coward. You are human.”

Blaine shook his head, unwilling to let Kurt comfort him or explain his shame away.

“But I ran,” Blaine said. “I left him alone…”

Kurt wanted to point out that Cooper was most likely already dead, but that realization would not help Blaine now.

“I jumped on my horse…I ran for my life…”

“And thank God you did,” Kurt said, holding Blaine's head up and looking into his husband's eyes, “because you came back to me. You came back to me, and now I get to have you.”

Blaine kissed him, taking comfort from Kurt's lips, but Kurt felt a grief rise within him, too great to put a name to. Cooper had been so kind, so fair. He was always trying to make them laugh. He loved to act, and loved to tease. He would arrange performances for all the children – with himself taking all the prime roles. He was an incurable flirt. He was way too gentle a human being to die such a horrific death. He had no wife, no children, no one aside from his brother to grieve him and no one to carry on his legacy. It was a waste - such a terrible waste. Kurt shut his eyes against the image that blossomed from Blaine's words of poor Cooper set ablaze, and Kurt couldn't help the hiccup of grief that escaped his lips. Blaine opened his eyes when he felt Kurt's lips quiver.

“It was long ago, my love,” Blaine whispered, his voice fighting through the haze of Kurt's nightmare to soothe a suffering Kurt had no need to feel. Blaine cursed himself for being so blunt with him. “But that has been the nature of my personal business, if you have a want to know. I have been tracking down leads, trying to find his killers. I have brought Bibles of information to the authorities, but after so long a time, they refuse to take part in my investigation.”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt said again, finding there was nothing more he could say. “I didn't know. I wouldn't have asked.”

“Are you enjoying the ball so far, my love,” Blaine said, shifting topics so swiftly that it nearly made Kurt's head ache. Blaine changed positions, lying back with his head against the pillows, pulling Kurt to lie on top of him, needing to keep his husband close and think on pleasanter things.

“Yes, my lord,” Kurt said, wiping away what remained of his tears and trying to follow Blaine's train of conversation. “It is quite wonderful.”

“You seem to be a hit tonight, if I daresay,” Blaine said, tapping Kurt on the nose with his finger. “I have heard so many things about you. I believe you have captured the hearts of all of our guests.”

“Talking about enjoying ourselves,” Kurt purred contentedly as he rested his head against the broad muscles of his husband's chest. “How does one get as good at that as you?”

“I don't think I had much part in it this time,” Blaine laughed, causing Kurt to blush.

“I'm being serious,” Kurt said.

“You think I am good at that?” Blaine asked, running his fingers through Kurt's hair. Blaine had received many accolades on his proficiency in bed before, but somehow hearing the words from Kurt's lips filled him with a surge of pride he had never known.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Well, the only way you get good at it is practice,” Blaine teased with a coy smile.

“Really?” Kurt said, trying not to let that bother him. Kurt toyed with his lower lip, pinching it between his teeth as he gazed up at his husband. “Have you had much practice?”

“Excuse me?” Blaine laughed.

“Practice?  Have you had much practice doing this?” Kurt emphasized with an all-encompassing gesture of his hand.

“By this,” Blaine teased, repeating the same gesture, “I would assume you mean make love.”

“Of course,” Kurt said, playfully slapping away Blaine's taunting hand.

“My love,” Blaine began, posing a look of mock seriousness, “that is usually not a question a gentleman answers.”

“I am sorry,” Kurt said, turning away in embarrassment and silent reproach.

“Well, have you, my love?” Blaine asked, patting Kurt's sore backside.

“Have I what?” he muttered over his shoulder.

“Had much practice at this?”  Blaine reached over to wave his hand before Kurt's face, again mockingly repeating the same gesture.

“Of course not,” Kurt slapped at Blaine's hand. “Never. I told you I haven't. But then again, husband...”  Kurt said the word with appropriate emphasis, “I am not the one who made boastful retorts about my abilities in bed. What was it exactly that you said, let me think - some…a lot…but who remembers names and faces?”

Blaine grabbed Kurt by the wrists, holding Kurt's arms above his head in one hand as he tickled his husband playfully about the ribs. He smiled at the way Kurt squealed and gasped for breath, but made no real effort to break free.

“Alas,” Blaine teased with a contented sigh as he finally released a giggling Kurt, “as I try to remain to the last a gentleman, I cannot deign for you a number.”

“Not even an estimate, my lord?”

“Nay,” Blaine laughed. “Not even that. I am a rogue, like any and all unscrupulous English gentlemen.” Kurt rolled his eyes and looked away. “But I can tell you this...” Blaine reached out a hand and turned Kurt's head back to face him. “Never before have I cherished the act, but I cherish it with you.”

Kurt bowed his head, a heated flush rising to his cheeks. Blaine smiled at his innocence, even now as Kurt lay naked on top of him, the bed sheets crumpled about them. He crooked a finger beneath Kurt's chin and lifted Kurt's face to meet his.

“No one I have ever met since you and I parted has captured my heart. And you have done so, my lord. Quite completely.”

Kurt pushed himself up Blaine's chest and kissed his chin. Blaine wrapped Kurt in his embrace, rolled him over, and claimed his mouth deeply. Kurt was breathless by the time Blaine released him, but it still was not enough for Kurt. But there were things on his mind he needed to know, and since Blaine seemed so receptive to queries, Kurt leapt at the opportunity.

“Permit me another question, my lord?” Kurt asked.

“Anything, husband.” Blaine said, his curiosity overflowing.

“Have you…ever been with a woman?” Kurt asked, his eyes darting away to his own hands as they stroked up and down Blaine's arm.

“Several,” Blaine answered, swiftly but not proudly. He had always been fond of his many sexual escapades, but now, in the face of Kurt's scrutiny, they seemed like a dark blemish on his soul.

Kurt nodded, looking unhappy with Blaine's answer, dropping a kiss onto Blaine's arm to cover the look in his eyes.

“Have you any more questions, my love?” Blaine asked, pulling his husband close.           

“Only one, my lord,” Kurt said, trying to maintain his good humor. Kurt paused, mulling the question over in his mind, not sure he even wanted to ask it.

“Well,” Blaine said, sealing his mouth against Kurt's neck and blowing on his skin until he squirmed to get away, “have out with it.”

“In all these liaisons you have had in your past, is there a chance that one might have produced a child?”

Blaine laughed again. Indeed, it was a thought he oft had himself, but as time went by he became certain that particular hand of fate had never pointed a finger at him.

“No, my love,” Blaine laughed - a rich, genuine sound that warmed Kurt's very soul.

“Not ever, my lord?” Kurt prodded with a smile.

“Not a one,” Blaine assured him with a gentle squeeze. “And on that, you have my word as a gentleman.”

“Hmph,” Kurt remarked, “and how good is that, my lord?”

“For the time being, it will have to do,” Blaine said, reaching down to pinch Kurt right below his ribcage. Kurt giggled, pushing Blaine's hand away.

“Would you like a child, my love?” Blaine asked, speaking the question into Kurt's bare shoulder so that Kurt felt it against his skin.

“Oh yes,” Kurt said, nodding gleefully. “One day, I would very much adore a child, but for now…”

“What?” Blaine asked, trailing more kisses down Kurt's shoulder to his arm.

“I think, my lord, that maybe we should consider returning to our guests.”