Simply Pleasure (9 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Simply Pleasure
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“I'm going home now, sir. Do you wish me to lock up, or are you staying for a while longer?”
Val peered through the darkness at Mr. Taggart. “What time is it?”
“It's past ten, sir.”
“Then I suppose I should go home.” He rose to his feet and blew out the solitary candle. Not that his father's house was a home to him, merely a place that he slept.
Peter hadn't come back.
He was either with Captain Ford or in an opium den, and there was nothing Val could do about it.
Nothing.
He joined Mr. Taggart in the outer office, and they made sure the building was secure before parting ways at the front door, Taggart to go to the pub, and Val to walk up toward the high road in search of a hackney cab.
He had no recollection of the journey back to his father's house, or paying off the driver. Walking into the main hallway, he bypassed the dining room and headed straight for his father's study.
The marquess was sitting behind his desk writing a letter and looked up when Val entered.
“Is everything all right?”
Val stood in front of his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. “I've bought a small shipping business.”
“You've
what?

“I think you heard me. I know you don't approve of gentlemen being involved in trade, but I needed something to do.”
“And being my heir, learning about the great estate you will one day inherit isn't enough for you?”
“No.”
The marquess put down his pen and sat back so he could stare into Val's face. “Did Peter put you up to this?”
“No. I'm not even certain he's going to be involved in the business.”
“Well, that's one blessing. With his spending habits, you'd be bankrupt in a week.”
“He's actually very capable when his mind isn't muddled with opium.”
“This is still a ridiculous notion, Valentin. No doubt you'll be bored in a week and expect me to sort it all out for you.”
“I don't think so, sir.” He bowed. “I also wanted to inform you that I'll be acquiring my own property soon and moving out.”
“There's a perfectly good family property on Percival Street if you want it.”
“I'd prefer to get something of my own.”
“Of course you would. God help you if you ever accepted anything willingly from my hand.”
“I don't wish to be beholden to you, sir,” Val said stiffly.
“You're my son. It is my duty and my pleasure to provide for you.”
Val bit back his first sarcastic reply. “I—appreciate that, sir. You have been more than generous in the past.”
The marquess searched his face. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Then why are you being so conciliatory?”
“You'd rather I ripped up at you?”
“Yes, I think I would. At least I understand that. Valentin, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but—”
Val held up his hand. “I just wanted to let you know my future plans. I'll have a clearer idea of them in the next few days. Good night, Father.”
“Good night, Valentin.”
He went up the stairs and into his bedchamber. Not bothering to call for his valet, he slowly undressed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror and considered the stark angles of his so-called beautiful face. He hated that beauty and had tried to obliterate it on more than one occasion in the brothel and been beaten severely for attempting to destroy the merchandise. Candlelight glinted on the keepsake he wore on a leather string around his neck. He picked up the Turkish half coin and rubbed a thumb over the dull metal. Peter had the matching half. He'd been wearing it at Madame's.
Val reached up, lifted the leather string off over his head, and laid it on his dressing table. With an inarticulate sound he put his hands over his eyes and sank to the floor. He felt as if his heart would snap in two as easily as the coin. But had it been easy? He remembered Peter sawing away at the damn thing for days while Val scolded him for wasting a valuable coin on a stupid necklace.
He struggled to breathe, his hands pressed tightly to his face, and for the first time in years prayed to a God he no longer believed in. Not for himself, but for Peter, that whatever happened to him would be as good and enduring and as true as the metal in the coin.
Peter studied Val's sleeping form and deliberated what to do. His friend looked exhausted. He'd spent days with Peter at the pleasure house dealing with the consequences of his addictions and hadn't complained once. Perhaps it would be better to leave him to sleep.
But he needed to talk to him. Since walking out of the shipping offices, he'd done a lot of thinking, some of it in the company of Captain Ford, and the rest by himself as he walked along the docks staring into the filthy, clouded water. It had occurred to him that making decisions for himself was harder than he'd anticipated, which was probably why he'd allowed others to do it for him in the past.
Leaning closer, he traced the curve of Val's eyebrow and found himself staring right into his lover's beautiful sleep-dazed eyes. Holding his gaze, Peter slowly stripped out of his clothes and climbed up onto the bed. Moonlight spilled over the satin quilts and Val's naked torso as he lay still and stared at Peter.
“Why are you here?” Val whispered.
Peter knelt beside him. “Because I needed to see you.”
“What about Captain Ford?”
“Jason understood why I couldn't stay with him.”
“But I thought—”
He brushed a kiss over Val's mouth. “Sshh.”
For once, Val shut up. Peter smiled and kissed him properly. With a stifled groan Val opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to tangle with Peter's until their lips were fused together in a hot erotic trap of mutual need.
Peter threaded his hand through Val's long dark hair, his fingers grazing the raised scar of a brand on the back of Val's neck that had once been Aliabad's initials. Val's hands roamed his body, touching and teasing until Peter rolled on top of him, his hard wet cock rubbing against Val's as they moved together with the ease of longtime lovers. Reaching down, Peter wrapped his hand around both their shafts and worked them until Val's hips were rolling against his in an invitation Peter found hard to resist.
He let his wet fingers drift lower, shaping Val's balls, sliding over the smooth skin of his taint, and rimming the tight bud of his arsehole.
“Please,” Val whispered.
Peter kissed him hard and reached across to the bedside table to find a vial of oil. Trying not to break contact with Val's mouth, he oiled his fingers and slid two of them deep inside his lover, pushing them back and forth in time to the rhythm of his kisses and his hips.
Val groaned and Peter slicked oil over his shaft and pushed Val's thighs wide. He waited patiently until Val looked right at him and then eased the head of his cock inside. Val's eyes widened, but he didn't look away as Peter rocked his hips, pressing deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed in Val's arse.
He planted his hands on either side of Val's head and stared down at his lover, his cock throbbing along with his heartbeat, his breathing taut.
“Do you want me?”
Val shivered and reached up to touch Peter's face. “God, yes.”
Peter undulated his hips. “Like this? Face to face, my cock deep inside you?”

Yes
.”
Peter still didn't move. “I want to be your partner in all things, your business and your bed.” He hesitated. “I know this is hard for you—the thought of a man fucking you,
owning
you, but that's not what I want. I just want to occasionally share your bed instead of it all being about what you want.”
“I understand.” Val bit down on his lower lip. “I—think I can do that.”
“And in return I swear that I won't let myself drown in the oblivion of opium again. It's going to be damned hard at first, but if you can offer me a compromise such as this, I can offer you my loyalty and my assurance that I will do anything in my power to make you proud of me and be worthy of the trust you offer me.”
“I've always been proud of you.”
“Liar.”
“No, I've always admired your ability to be honest about what you want.” Val sighed. “I'm not very good at admitting I need anyone, but in this instance I will repay your honesty with my own. There is nothing I would like more than to have you as my friend and my partner in this new business venture.”
“And?” Peter's arms were trembling from the strain of holding himself away from Val.
“And here, in the darkness, and in this bed, I can admit I want you as my lover too.”
Peter eased back his hips. “But?”
“Forgive me if I fail to show you that—I desire you sometimes.” He arched his back and brought one shaking hand down to wrap around his cock. “Now, please fuck me. I need you.”
Peter let out his breath and allowed himself to thrust forward and then retreat in a punishing rhythm that left Val gasping and reaching for him. Peter pressed deep one last time and held himself still as his seed pumped out in long, pulsing waves that left him feeling drained and trembling, his teeth clenched so hard he thought his jaw might be broken.
Before he could draw a decent breath, Val sat up and flipped him onto his stomach, his wet fingers seeking Peter's arsehole. His cock followed, pushing in and out in a quick frenzy that had Peter writhing on the sheets and groaning Val's name with every stabbing stroke.
Val climaxed and collapsed over Peter's back, his breathing harried, his body so relaxed that he clung to Peter like a vine. They stayed like that for a long while before Val eased himself out and rolled away.
Peter fetched a bowl of water and soap, and they washed themselves and each other until the sheets were damp and they both smelled of lavender. Peter picked up Val's necklace and put it back around his neck. They crawled under the covers and curled up together, Val on his back and Peter against his side.
“Are you sure that you don't want to go with Captain Ford?” Val murmured.
“Perhaps someday in the future I will travel with him, but I need to understand the nature of this business before I can go anywhere and make it profitable. I'll move into the upstairs apartment in the building straightaway. I promise that as soon as I'm able, I'll return all the money I stole from your father.”
“That would be good of you.”
“It's the least I can do and you know it.” Peter rested a hand on Val's chest. “Was he angry about you buying the shipping company?”
“More resigned than angry. He's learned to accept that I'll never be the son he truly wanted.”
There was a thread of exhaustion in Val's voice that matched how Peter felt. As the silence lengthened, Val's breathing changed and became slower and more regular until Peter realized he'd gone to sleep. With one last kiss, Peter eased himself away and got out of bed. Seeing as it was his last night under the Marquess of Stratham's roof, he'd better not be found naked in the heir to the title's bedroom.
He gathered up his clothes and went through the connecting door to his own suite of rooms. The birds had already started singing, and the first cracks of light were appearing over the rooftops of London. Peter breathed out deeply. Neither he nor Val were perfect, but in their own ways they were both determined to start afresh. His fingers brushed the half coin around his neck and he closed his fist over it. He was convinced the road ahead might be stormy, but it felt right to be traveling it with Val, side by side, hand in hand, two halves of the same coin.
 
One month later ...
 
Peter grinned at Val as they stood back to admire the brand-new paint on the windows and doors, the scrubbed-down brickwork, and the patched roof of the shipping company. The marquess hadn't come to see the grand opening, but the countess and Anthony had, as well as Captain Ford, Madame Helene, and Mr. John Harrison.
“There's one more thing, Val.”
His partner, who was dressed in dark blue and gray with shining top boots, raised an elegant eyebrow.
Peter gestured at the men who slowly raised the new sign over the door and hammered it into place.
Howard and Sokorvsky Shipping Company.
Val turned to Peter. “Why is your name first?”
“Because I ordered the sign.”
Val sighed and stuck out his hand. “It will do for now.”
Peter shook it and gestured at their assembled guests and office staff. “Let's go inside and celebrate.”

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