Authors: Kate Pearce
Silence filled the tense space between them until the fire crackled and spat out some burning ash.
“Are you feeling all right, Val?”
For a second, Val looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Sara told me I should tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me when we were in the brothel.”
“Sara told you?”
“I know, it’s not as if I need to tell you, is it? You know how I feel.” Val met his gaze. “You saved my life. You saved me.”
Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door. “Don’t do this, Val. Don’t try to make me out to be something I’m not. Not now.” God, he couldn’t stand this anymore. He just couldn’t.
Val moved closer, and the familiar scent of his body tantalized Peter’s senses. He flinched as Val cupped the side of his face.
“Perhaps Sara was right and you do need to know how I feel about you.” Val sighed. “I tried to convince myself that Sara could provide everything I need in bed.”
“She can.”
“No, she can’t. She was the one who realized that and made sure you joined us. I pretended I did it for her, but really, it was for me as well.” He shrugged. “It seems my past experiences make me incapable of settling down with a single partner.”
He stroked Peter’s lower lip with his thumb, his voice soft. “What can I do for you, Peter? If you don’t want me, what do you want?”
Peter struggled against an unheard of desire to cry. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you. Sara’s pregnancy and the discovery of your family are mere catalysts. This crisis has been brewing for a long while. I’ve watched you become dissatisfied with your life. Have you discovered what you want?”
“What I want, I can’t have.”
“You want Beecham?”
The jealous note was back in Val’s voice. Peter almost smiled. Six months ago he would’ve been thrilled to hear that tone; now it didn’t matter.
“I’m very fond of James, but I can’t give him the sexual domination he craves.”
“Ah, so it’s his wife.”
“Yes, how ridiculous does that sound? Me, a lowborn bastard aspiring to yet another aristocrat’s wife.”
Valentin met his gaze, his eyes intent. “Does she love you?”
“She thinks she does.”
“But you doubt her.”
“I doubt myself. I have nothing to offer her. She is married, with a husband who cares about her, and has the security of an ancient and respected family name.”
“You have a respectable family name now.”
“I have the surname of my mother because I’m an unwanted bastard.” He swallowed hard. “She put me on that ship to get rid of me so that she could start a new life.” A reflection of his own pain was mirrored in Val’s eyes.
“But if you hadn’t gotten on that ship, you wouldn’t have met me and eventually returned to England.”
Peter laughed. “And I should be grateful for that?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you? If your mother’s plan had worked, you’d surely be dead by now.”
Peter simply stared at him, his brain working furiously as he sorted through Val’s words.
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Then think of it now. You have your life and the ability to love whomever you want.”
“Except if she is married.”
Val frowned. “You and I are never going to be able to have sex lives that follow the norm. Accept it. I love Sara with all my heart but I find I can’t do without you in my bed, occasionally.” His smile was almost shy. “I miss you. Why shouldn’t you find happiness with both of the Beechams?”
Peter opened his mouth to reply and Val slammed his hand over it. “Don’t say that you are unworthy or I’ll have to punch you.”
Peter slowly removed Val’s hand. “I won’t say it. I’ve realized it isn’t true. Last night I considered taking up my old addictions, but I couldn’t do that to myself.”
Val’s face softened. “God, Peter, you are one of the most deserving and worthwhile men I know.” He leaned forward, brushed his lips against Peter’s and kissed him deeply. Peter opened his mouth, allowed Val’s taste and textures to overwhelm him, buried his hand in his friend’s long hair. After a while Val stepped back.
“Promise me that for once in your bloody life you’ll go after what you want, not what you think I want or what Sara or society wants, but what will make you happy.” He brushed Peter’s hair away from his face with gentle fingers. “I want you to be happy, Peter.”
Peter stared at his friend. That was exactly what Abigail had said to him as well. “I don’t know what to say.”
Val started to put his clothes back on. “Don’t say anything, just decide what you are going to do to get the Beechams back and do it.”
23
“B
ut I thought we were to meet at Madame’s.”
Peter raised his eyebrows at James, who glowered up at him from the pavement outside. He hadn’t entered the house in case he encountered Abigail before his plans were complete. Peter swallowed hard. It was quite simple. He had to convince James that he wasn’t the right man for him and make him consider what he really wanted. When he and James were clear as to their relationship, Peter could then turn his attention to winning Abigail back.
“Lord Beecham, are you coming or not? We will end up at Madame Helene’s anyway.”
“All right then.” James got into the carriage and slammed the door. As it moved off, Peter deliberately shoved James back into the seat.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Peter stared at him. “What you want, I suspect. Isn’t that what your summons was about? A last sexual encounter before I leave.” He moved closer. “An encounter where you will do exactly what I say.”
“You expect me to agree to that, after all the trouble you’ve caused Abby?”
“This isn’t about Abigail. This is about you and me.”
Peter stood over James and adapted his stance to the rocking carriage. He placed his hands on the back of the seat and caged James between them.
“You’ll agree, and if you don’t, I’ll make you.”
James bit his lip, his breathing erratic, his brown eyes fixed on Peter’s face
“Just me and whatever I choose to do to make our last night together memorable. Put your hands on the back of the seat and keep them there.”
James obliged, the bulge in his groin growing noticeably bigger. Peter shoved James’s legs wide apart until the satin seams of his pantaloons stretched impossibly tight. He palmed James’s cock and rubbed it hard.
“I like your cock. It’s big and thick, and best of all, your recovery time is almost as fast as mine.” James didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on Peter’s moving hand. “I like the fact that I can get you hard so fast too.”
Peter squeezed his balls, and James’s hips jerked off the seat. “I know you like it rough, and now I understand why. The man who fucked you in Jamaica understood you better than I ever will.”
James licked his lips as Peter continued his thorough handling. He thumbed the crown of James’s cock until his pantaloons were wet with pre-cum and kept going until James groaned with every deliberate stroke.
“If you keep that up, I’ll come.”
Peter didn’t smile. “That’s the idea, James.”
“I haven’t done that since I was in Jamaica.”
“You’ll come for me now and you’ll walk into Madame Helene’s covered in your own seed and everyone who sees you will know it.”
James stared at him, his breathing ragged.
“Peter…”
“Yes, James?”
He increased the pressure, felt James shudder as his come soaked his white pantaloons. Peter sat back in his seat and admired the now-transparent satin that revealed the dark hair at James’s groin and the shape of his flaccid cock.
“I hope you enjoyed that, James, because it’ll be a long while before I allow you to come again.”
“Take off your clothes.”
James didn’t argue this time. He stripped off, wincing as he peeled down his soaked pantaloons and stepped out of his shoes. His cock was already filling out again in anticipation of Peter’s attention. Peter admired his lover’s sleek muscles and the thick thrust of his shaft. He squeezed James’s buttock, felt him shudder.
“Tonight, you are mine to do what I want with. You will speak only when I tell you to and you will do everything I say or you will be punished. Do you understand?”
James frowned. “But there is something I wish to discuss with you. It concerns Abby.”
Peter slammed his hand over James’s mouth.
How interesting
. Was James as eager to find a solution to their problems as Peter was? Renewed hope rose in Peter’s heart.
“Not now. If you wish to discuss Abigail later, you may do so, but not until I give you leave and not if you don’t do as I tell you.”
James nodded, his expression grave, his eyes cast down. Despite his humble appearance Peter could measure his increasing excitement in his hardening, dripping cock.
He turned and opened several of the drawers in the darkened area of the room, drew out the things he needed and laid them neatly on the bed where James could see them.
“First, your collar. I’ll attach a leash to it later.”
He buckled the thick leather collar around James’s neck. The other man’s throat worked as Peter fastened the heavy buckle.
“Clasp your hands behind your back and don’t show them to me again unless I tell you to.”
A muscle flicked in James’s cheek and Peter paused.
“Are you considering disobeying me?”
Peter stared at him for a long while until James dropped his gaze to the floor and put his hands behind his back.
Peter brought out a bottle of jasmine-scented oil and worked it into James’s chest and arms. James’s cock brushed his clothes but he ignored it. He continued oiling James, down his thighs, his knees and feet, his tight arse and muscled back.
He stepped back to admire his handiwork. James gleamed like a living statue, a testament to his good breeding and fine living.
“Very nice, James. Now I need to dress you.”
He moved closer, used his finger and thumb to pinch James’s nipples erect. James groaned and took a step toward him. Peter shoved him backward.
“You are not supposed to make a sound or move. I’ll have to punish you.”
He turned to the bed, picked up the thin whip he’d laid out ready and circled James. Five cuts to each of his buttocks. This time James didn’t make a sound, although his muscles clenched against the sting of the whip.
Peter returned to James’s nipples and played with them until they were erect. He slid the first nipple clamp on and tightened it. James hissed a curse as Peter added the second.
“You are being deliberately disobedient. I told you not to speak. Now I’ll have to gag you.”
He slid the ball gag into James’s mouth and tied it tightly behind his head, dropped his hand to caress James’s heated buttocks making him flinch. “Five more strokes for cursing at me, I think.”
After he laid the whip back on the bed, Peter pulled a chair up to face James and sat on it.
“Use your hands on your cock but don’t make yourself come. Stop when I tell you to.”
James stroked his cock, shoving the thick, wet rod through the tight clasp of his fingers, fingering and squeezing his balls as he pleasured himself. He started to pant, his fingers tightening, his expression agonized.
“Stop and put your hands behind your back.”
James did as he was told, his cock jerked up toward his navel as if desperate for release. A release Peter knew would be a long time coming. He waited until James’s breathing evened out and then stood up.
“Now for the rest of your outfit.”
He slid the thick leather harness between James’s legs, fastened the bands around his balls and cock and then showed him the narrow leather strands. “I’m going to wrap these around your shaft. Keep still.”
James made a stifled sound behind the gag, which Peter chose to ignore. He wound the leather straps up and down James’s cock, covering it completely and tying off the ends securely at the base on the cock ring. He reached behind him for the next instrument he needed. He showed James the elegantly carved three-inch jade plug. It was short and squat and patterned with stylish gold and silver inlay.
“This goes in your arse.”
He poured oil onto the jade until it gleamed and slowly slid it inside James, watching his reaction in the mirror. When the jade was fully inserted, he gathered the remaining straps of the leather harness and brought one between James’s buttocks to hold the dildo steady. The other two straps encircled low on James’s hips and buckled behind his leather-covered cock.
“Now you look like a proper slave.”
Peter guided James to stand in front of the long mirror beside the bed. He added a chain leash to the collar and a flimsy silk loincloth, which barely covered James’s buttocks. Tremors ran through James as if he had the ague, and his eyes were bright with excitement. Peter added a half mask to conceal James’s identity.
Unconsciously, Peter rubbed his own cock. Such extremes didn’t really arouse him. They reminded him too much of the Turkish brothel. Luckily he knew there were men who would welcome James and his peculiarities right here at Madame’s.
He tugged on the leash. “Are you ready?”
James’s whole body went rigid and he didn’t move, his muscles bunched as if he was ready to flee. Peter yanked hard on the chain, almost pulling James over. He might not enjoy it, but he knew exactly how to treat James. He made his voice cold. “It wasn’t a suggestion. Come now or I’ll have to punish you.”
The suite of rooms he took James to was on the top floor of the pleasure house. To enter required knowledge of a password, a special door key and the visual recognition of one of Helene’s hired bodyguards. Peter nodded at the giant at the final door and walked into the first salon.
The walls were black as were the very few candles. Red was the other dominant color, on the sheets of the enormous bed, the reclining cushions and the couches. One wall was covered in whips, chains and every sexual toy a man could ever wish to use on himself or another.
About a dozen men moved through the two connected rooms. Three others were dressed similarly to James, collars around their necks and negligible clothing. Peter clicked his fingers in James’s face.