Feather-light kisses traced gracefully over his neck. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, though he kept a cool look in his face. Only a faint blush gave away his lack of composure in that moment. His viny fingers reached up around the other male's neck at the base, feeling the silk strands beneath the tips of his fingers. The earl let out a quiet quiver. His toes curled up, his whole body yearning to collapse under the passion. He was hot and so, so bothered, but he wouldn't let his partner even catch a hint of this. A heated chuckle passed through his lips, teasing his precious Prussian with his vocals before he boldly moved his hips back to impale himself more. This seemed to startle the man above him who grunted just the slightest.

Vincent glanced up, trying to see the other's face. But Diederich wouldn't allow this. He leaned over the Phantomhive lord, growled in his ear, and bucked his hips up into his heat. The pale Englishman was caught off guard by this, moaning softly.

His partner was really passioned tonight, but Vincent found himself unsurprised by this. If he were in Diederich's shoes he too would have thrown him against the nearest stable structure and claimed him, too. Lucky for Vincent, that surface had been his bed. Still, the other hadn't even bothered to prepare him and that had made things just the slightest difficult. It had been a few months since they'd last had this sort of encounter. But they were lucky to have this moment. Diederich wasn't even supposed to be back in England for another month, but the news had driven the Prussian to leave when he could for the Phantomhive mansion, it seemed. And here he was, fucking Vincent into the bed with no reserve. Vincent hadn't even gotten to speak a simple hello before the male was pressing heated kisses to his lips and neck.

The earl wrapped his legs around the other's waist. This was the first time they were doing it missionary and it felt incredible, though Diederich seemed somewhat flustered by it. But. It didn't matter. He was here. He was really here and that made Vincent's heart clench just the slightest. Diederich had made it just on time.

Vincent closed his eyes, revelling in the moment and the other's scent. He moved his arms around the other's back and let his fingers grip into the male's back as Diederich picked up in the intensity of his motions.

Tomorrow was his wedding day. He would be doing the proper thing, marrying a woman of nobel lineage. And Rachel was a beautiful and kind woman. And despite how fond he was of her, he still found his heart linger on the one man that had a true effect on him. He'd hesitated writing the letter to Diederich to inform him of his engagement. Maybe it would have been better for them if he had cut all casual ties to the other. But he couldn't do that. Instead, he'd invited the man to his wedding a month ahead of the ceremony. However, he hadn't gotten a response from the other. In his mind, Vincent supposed that the male was cutting him out after all.

But in the darkness of the night before his wedding after the mansion had gone into a sleeping state, the Prussian had appeared in his room standing over his bed. It had startled Vincent to see him, but before he could speak, Diederich was on top of him. And their defined relationship came to a head as the other pushed his night gown over his head. Vincent, the most dangerous man in England, was so weak beneath the other.

He'd never stood a chance.