His Brother's Viscount

by Stephanie Lake

  “It helps knowing you are next to me,” Hector said. “When I wake from one of those dreams, I feel your arms around me, and I can relax back into slumber.” He twirled one finger across Wentworth’s belly.

  Blood rushed straight to his cock, so he stilled Hector’s hand with his own.

  “Thank you for letting me stay here,” Hector said. “I’m certain they will go away with time, especially now the pain in my chest is gone. I should stay at my own rooms, though. For appearances, if nothing more.” He pointed at the closed door for emphasis. “I shall go back to my rooms, let you get on with your business. I…I hope to see you often, however, if you are—”

  “Oh, do stop that, Hector. I do not want you to leave. I hope you will stay in my bed every day when I’m not at sea. In fact, under the guise of economy, I think you should give up your rooms and move in with me. We are lifelong friends. No one will think anything is out of the ordinary. Friends do that sort of thing.”

  “The servants will start spreading gossip since you lock the door to your sitting room as well as your bedchamber.”

  “Yes, that situation is a bit more delicate, so I put some thought into our problem. We shall ensconce you in the room down the hall, and tell the servants that since you suffer from nightmares, everyone but you and I must avoid this wing at all times unless called. I hope you do not mind being the scapegoat, but if I suddenly claim to start having bad dreams, I am afraid the doctor will be summoned.”

  Hector rubbed his face against Wentworth’s chest like a puppy in sun-warmed grass. “If it keeps me close to you, then I have no complaints.”

  “Good. We can work out all the details later. Right now, I think you should eat something.”

  “No, I’d rather make good use of this bed while I have you in it.” Hector started unbuttoning Wentworth’s shirt with deft fingers.

  That simple act, the light brush against his chest, had Wentworth’s rod at full sail. He lifted Hector’s chin with one finger and kissed him deeply and thoroughly, enjoying what he’d stupidly refused before. He would never again pass on the opportunity to taste his lips.

  They worked together to strip Wentworth of his clothes, never completely breaking contact with each other. The position was awkward, making a simple task take three times longer than necessary, but they both needed the closeness. Wentworth at least knew he needed the intimacy.

  At last he was as naked as his lover. Hector’s bed-warm skin was smooth, his cock hard, bumping and rubbing against Wentworth’s thigh as talented fingers teased one nipple.

  “My ribs are fully healed. I think it will be fine if you fuck me,” Hector said.

  Wentworth’s body surged with arousal at the words, but as enticing as that idea was, he needed something else. Every day he remembered how wonderful the experience had been when Hector fucked him, and he greatly desired to repeat the event.

  “Actually, I rather think I would prefer for you to make love to me. Seems I like it more than I ever imagined.”

  Hector sucked in a deep breath and trembled. “With pleasure.” He kissed the tip of Wentworth’s rod. “Turn over, then.”

  “No. No, I want to see you, kiss you when you take me.” He laughed softly. What a sentimental fool he’d turned into.

  “Oh yes,” Hector whispered as he reached for the bedside table and retrieved the oil.

  Several moments and only a few mishaps later—one elbow to the chin and a knee to the belly—they were situated with Hector lying on his back and Wentworth straddling him.

  Rising on one foot and one knee to allow Hector easy access to his arse, Wentworth prepared for the initial pain as Hector slipped one, then two, then three fingers inside. The preparation was necessary, but not his favorite part.

  When his body relaxed and the fingers slid smoothly, Wentworth began to enjoy the stretching sensation and the bump against that sensitive spot as he panted. “I am amply prepared. Get on with it,” he snapped. He was more than ready, and at that moment he would shatter into a thousand pieces if Hector did not enter him soon.

  Hector withdrew and steadied his rod while Wentworth positioned himself over his beautiful, flushed cock. His opening clenched once again as he lowered himself down on it, so he took a deep breath and let it out. His anus relaxed, and slowly, deliberately, opened for the penetration on that wonderful iron and satin prick.

  “God, that…” He swallowed the rest of the words on a gasp. The sensation of being filled, the look of pure lust on Hector’s handsome face, the weeks of waiting…it all became too much. He sat quickly all the way until fully seated.

  His arse trembled. Each grasp and release reverberated through his body and was almost enough to make him spend. Gritting his teeth, he got himself under control.

  “Do something, Wentworth, before I die of frustration.” Hector rocked up, sending a sensation like an electric shock through his body, and Wentworth could not keep still if his life depended on it. He lifted and slammed down, over and over.

  There was no finesse, no trying to angle himself so that hard cock of Hector’s hit his sensitive spot. There was only lust, love, and a bone-deep pleasure that sent him to his climax long before he wanted. He closed his eyes and yelled his completion.

  Bliss ebbed and flowed through Wentworth like a full-moon tide. Slowly, he fell against Hector, both of them still breathless. He was embarrassed to realize two things. One, he came without stimulus to his cock because he’d pounded poor Hector so hard and fast, he’d never let go of the bedcovers. Two, he’s been so caught up in his own pleasure, he did not even know if Hector found his release.

  What a selfish oaf he was. He lifted off Hector and winced when the softening cock slipped out from his arse. Well, that answered his question.

  Hector lay very still, eyes closed.

  “I hurt you. I am such a—”

  “No.” Hector opened those big, beautiful dark eyes. “You did not hurt me. What you did was send me around the world and back. God, I have not felt that wonderful in…Well, maybe I’ve never felt that good.” He chuckled and closed his eyes again.

  Looking at Hector beside him in his bed, he knew he was the luckiest man in London. Hell, probably in all of England. He pulled Hector into an embrace and leaned in to plunder his warm lips.

  “I believe I will stow away on your Dragon when you must go back, so I can use your body for my pleasure every morning and evening.”

  “It is ill advised to let this incident go to your head, Sprout.”

  “Don’t—”

  He laughed. “A deal, then. I will not call you Sprout if you remember not to get above yourself.” With that, he smacked Hector on the thigh and left the bed.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “To get you something to eat. You have about half a stone to put back on your frame.” Wentworth dressed quickly and then went to see if the tea was still warm.

  Hector’s stomach growled in agreement. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Terrible habit to get into.”

  Hector lobbed a pillow at him. It missed.

  “What I was about to say is, I would like to spend a few days sailing with you. Learn about seafaring so I can better understand what you do. So I can talk about maritime things with you.” He slipped out of bed and found an elegant sapphire-blue dressing gown that made his rumpled hair seem that much more disreputable. “Would you let me do that? Sail with you on a short trip?”

  “For you, dear, anything. And I would enjoy learning about your porcelain business. I am impressed with your unique endeavor and the fact that you increased profit by fifty percent in the past year. How did you manage that?”

  “Questions later, love. Let us never again waste time. And right now, I need you.”

  He never got around to checking if the tea was still warm, but it did not really matter since the bed was.

  Epilogue

  Summer 1810, a few miles east of London

  “What a perfect day,” Hecto
r said for the third time that afternoon. The weather was sunny and warm, the Somerville estate was green and festive for the occasion, and the company was sublime.”

  Wentworth had no complaints. He lounged on a blanket, watching Hector tickle Pug. “Best be careful. If you get her too stirred up, she will revisit the cake she ate not fifteen minutes ago.”

  Hector laughed. “Tickling won’t make anyone up their accounts.” He gave his niece an additional round of torment, then lay on the blanket. Pug gasped for breath next to her baby brother, whom Hector had given the awful but appropriate nickname Boulder. The baby was large and round and slept all the time, rarely moving. He was a startling contrast to his sister, who was in constant motion, just like her uncle.

  Mary and Will were somewhere near the front of the house, bidding farewell to the rest of the guests while he and Hector enjoyed some time alone with the children.

  Hector, arms behind his head, looked at the sky, while Pug prodded her brother with one pink shoe. “It was a nice party, but I must say I’m glad everyone is gone. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

  That was a surprise. Normally Hector blurted out what was on his mind. If he had to wait for the appropriate moment, this was serious. Wentworth sat up and moved Pug’s foot away from Horatio Forsythe Hector Somerville’s face. God, but he needed to have a word with Will about his choice of names. He had happily agreed to be Boulder’s godfather, but that was before he realized what the child would be christened.

  Boulder snuffled in his sleep, and Pug leaned over to stare at him, just two inches from his face. It gave Wentworth a headache just thinking about focusing on an object that close. “Children are rather interesting to watch—have you noticed that?”

  “Indeed, and that brings me to my idea.”

  “Oh no. I will not like this, will I?”

  “Let’s just say you might have to think about it before commenting.”

  Wentworth slipped closer to Hector so he could touch his arm. He was, however, careful to keep the children between them for appearances. “Tell me, dear.”

  Hector shivered. “God, I adore it when you call me dear.”

  “You are. Always.”

  Hector rolled onto his side. “I love you too, Wentworth.”

  “Perhaps you will call me Tyler, then.”

  “What? But you hate that name.”

  “Yes, well. Wentworth just doesn’t roll off the tongue when in the same sentence as love. Perhaps if you use Tyler enough, I will learn to appreciate my given name.”

  Dark eyes shining, Hector gave him a quivering smile.

  Wentworth asked, “When can we pass these tiny humans off to their parents and sneak up to our rooms?”

  “Not for a while, I believe. So, let me get back to what I have been trying to say.”

  “Yes, please do, dear. I cannot wait to hear what mischief you have swimming around in your beautiful head.”

  Hector smiled and gently snagged Pug before she could escape the blanket, then plopped her back in the middle. He shook his finger at her. “Behave and stay on the blanket, or I will tickle you again.”

  “No,” she screamed, but then ruined her protest by giggling, which of course spurred a new attack of tickles. Five minutes later, Hector was cleaning regurgitated cake off Pug’s pretty pink dress and soothing her tears with funny stories.

  “Next time Will and Mary have a christening, I believe we should be on the Dragon, bound for a mundane battle somewhere in the Mediterranean. What do you say?”

  Laughing, Hector wiped sweat from his brow. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

  “I have thought about it, you know.”

  “Thought about…?”

  “Fostering. Having children underfoot. They do add excitement in one’s life, do they not?”

  Hector beamed at him. “They do. They do indeed.”

  “My first thought is that it is right for us. Not now, not while I am away so much and there is trouble brewing. I do not see you enough as it is. You tell me often enough how selfish I am. I want all your time for myself.”

  “Damn, when will my blasted brother finish with his guests? I want you, in bed, clothes off, skin on display for my pleasure.” Hector looked at that moment as if he were about to climb over the children and ravish him.

  “Unkl. Don feel goud.” Pug looked about to cry.

  Hector whisked her up. “Don’t worry, my little pup. I’ll take you to your mother.” He mumbled, “Stay right there. I will be back soon,” and he was off.

  Wentworth and Boulder lazed in the weak sunlight. He occasionally shook the boy to make certain he was still alive. Each time, he snorted and went right back to sleep.

  When footsteps sounded on the fresh grass, Wentworth said, “I told you not to tickle her that much.”

  Instead of a crisp tenor, a rough voice answered, “I’m certain Margaret will be fine. Mary and Hector are cooing over her as if they know what they are about.”

  He sat bolt upright. “Will?”

  “I came to take Horatio up for his nap.”

  Wentworth laughed. “Nap? He has slept all day.”

  “Yes, but it was a fitful sleep with all the noise and interruptions.”

  “Heaven forbid someone interrupt his afternoon nap. It might interfere with his late-afternoon nap.”

  Will smiled at Boulder. “Thank you,” he said to Wentworth.

  The hair on the back of his neck rose. “For what?”

  Will looked at him. Those knowing black eyes drilled into his deepest secrets. “For making Hector happy, for watching the children today, for once again being a dear friend. I missed you, Ty.”

  Wentworth looked at the clouds building in the sky. It would be a cool evening, and they might even have rain. “I believe I should be the one thanking you—for giving me back an extended family, for trusting I will not turn into an abomination, for trusting me with your children, for forgiving me, and for blessing my relationship with Hector.” His voice grew thick, so he stopped blabbering.

  Will squeezed his knee—the warmth seeping through Wentworth’s trousers did not stir his cock like it would have years before—and then stooped to pick up his boy.

  “Oof, you are a big boy, aren’t you, my good-natured baby? I think he is saving all his energy for growing. But don’t let his gentle nature fool you. He will be a man to reckon with when he grows into all this heft.”

  “I am certain of that. With a father and mother like his, there cannot possibly be any other outcome.”

  “When do you sail again?”

  “Too soon. Much too soon. I have been assured that we will be assigned to channel patrol. If that holds true, I plan to ask Hector if he will stay in Portsmouth so I can see him every week or two. I’m not certain he will leave his business, though. He gets so much enjoyment running the whole ugly…ugly…”

  “Monstrosity?”

  “Quite.”

  “You know, I’ve not once regretted my choice to become a landlubber. You might think about it. There’s no disgrace in turning in your commission. You have an exemplary record. Maybe it’s time to let someone else rule the seas.”

  Wentworth smiled to himself and wondered what he would do if he never again had a ship under his feet to command. “An excellent notion, Will. I shall think on it. Seems I have quite a lot to think on just now. Ah, there is Hector.”

  “It is getting late. I’ll have tea sent to your rooms. No hurry if you don’t mind cold tea.”

  “Will, I…” He tugged at his shirtsleeve. “I should not ask, but for some reason I feel I have a right to know. The offer, the one you made during the fortnight…Well, what was on the table?”

  Will looked away sharply. “I don’t really know, to be honest. It was just that you had always been there, always my best friend, often more than that. I suppose there were several reasons why I did not want you and Hector together.” He laughed without mirth, bouncing Boulder gently. “Seems I’m not such an upstand
ing gentleman as I thought if I let jealousy control me.”

  “Ah. Just a man after all.” He smiled at Will, who smiled back.

  Will left, and halfway to the manor exchanged a few words with Hector. It was not long before Hector sat next to Wentworth, bumping his shoulder. “Is all well?” Hector asked.

  “Yes, just contemplating the future.”

  “And does the future look good for us?”

  He took Hector’s hand and stared into his tea-colored eyes. “My love, my spring, the future looks bright indeed. Let’s go upstairs for tea, and I will show you how I envision it.”

  “You know, I purchased some violet silk curtain ties at the market last week. Brought them along, thinking how decadent you would look trussed up to my brother’s guest bed. You were so wanton the last time I strapped you down. Thought we’d try it again.”

  The surge of desire at the thought of being rendered totally helpless for Hector’s pleasure surprised him once again. And he was behind the idea fully, totally, and erectly.

  He was halfway to his feet when Hector smiled and said, “Bet I can make it to the guest chamber before you.” Then the imp was off and away before Wentworth even realized a race was under way. He bellowed, “You cheated, brat!” As he ran down the hill to the manor house, his mind summoned up all the delicious ways he would make Hector pay for rushing the gun…just as soon as Hector released him from the new silk bindings.

  Author’s Note

  There are a few historical figures in this novel, but most of the characters are completely our creation. Please forgive small rearrangements of some historical facts in order to give the characters a story they could be proud of participating in.

  And, yes, I did purposefully have Wentworth misrepresent what his given name means. It seemed more fun that way.

  I became interested in traumatic memory suppression when I realized that years after a distressing event, Lake would mention something about that time frame, and I’d say, “Damn, I forgot all about that.” Wondering why I would forget something that memorable gave me the idea for Wentworth. However, I only forgot one event; Wentworth suffered three highly traumatic events, causing him quite a few holes in his personal timeline.