by Jean Wilde
Piers tried to keep busy, exploring the mansion and the surrounding countryside. He was disappointed that his host didn’t offer to accompany him or give him a personal tour of the grounds. Even more dismaying was his inability to spend any private time with the Baron. Hastings remained closeted in his study during most of the day and in the evenings retired to the drawing room with his wife promptly after supper. Just that morning, he’d declined Piers’s second invitation to join him on his morning ride.
Piers was strolling through the gardens one afternoon, mulling over this predicament, when Caroline fell into step with him. He nodded a greeting to her, and they both continued to walk in silence for a while.
Finally, she heaved a sigh and asked, “Do you have a plan?”
“On seducing a man not bent on seduction? Not yet, but I have every confidence in my abilities. I wasn’t the top earner at The Scarlet Salon for nothing.”
She gave him a half smile. “I’m actually surprised Hori is proving to be such a challenge. You’re incredibly charming; I was certain he’d be taken with you from the start. What could you possibly have done to irk him so?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t resist goading him on my first night here,” he replied ruefully. “Your husband is exceedingly attractive with his color high and those lovely green eyes flashing with suppressed rage.”
“Is it a common strategy to annoy someone so much they’ll fall into bed with you in order to be rid of you? Seems a rather adverse approach.”
Piers chuckled. “You’d be surprised how often animosity can turn into physical attraction. I must confess, though, that was not my intention. During the day, when he’s playing Lord of the Manor, Hastings controls who can see him and when. I need to catch him unawares when he’s vulnerable even. Tell me, does your husband lock his bedroom door at night?”
“No,” she responded with a slow smile. “And his valet has his own room in the servants’ quarters.”
“That’s very convenient since I believe I’ll be losing my way in a darkened corridor this evening.”
Several hours later, when the house lay quiet and asleep, Piers slipped out of his room and padded softly along the corridor. It wasn’t a full moon, but there was enough light to make his way to the door Lady Hastings had pointed out earlier as her husband’s bedchamber. He paused in front of the door, listening for any sounds from within. He thought he heard a faint rustle of paper, and a shadow flickered across the firelight that glowed from beneath the doorway.
Squaring his shoulders, he knocked lightly and entered the room without waiting for a response. Baron Hastings sat propped in a large four-poster bed reading a book. A candelabrum sat on a bedside table, and a cheery fire burned in the grate, giving the room a warm, inviting appearance. He looked up at his unexpected guest. For a moment, he appeared stunned, his jaw dropping slightly. When Piers shut the door firmly behind himself, the sound seemed to break the Baron out of his stupor. Hastings demanded sharply, “What the Devil are you doing here, Mr. Benson?”
Piers merely smiled as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his burgundy banyan. He made a slow circuit of the room, taking in the sparse masculine furnishings. The bed dominated most of the bedchamber; there was also a small dressing table with a basin and toiletries set up against one wall and one of the messiest desks Piers had ever seen took up the space next to a curtained window. Mounds of paperwork and sketches were strewn across its surface.
The Baron can certainly play the role of distracted artist, he thought with an inward smile.
“Well?” Hastings snapped.
Piers abandoned his exploration of the room and went to stand at the foot of the bed. He tilted his head to the side as he asked, “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Did you mistake my room for my wife’s, perhaps?” Hastings replied from between clenched teeth.
Piers chuckled softly and shook his head. “You mistake my interest, my Lord.”
“Oh?”
He saw Hastings tense as he rounded the bed, moving closer until Piers was practically looming over him. “It’s not your sweet Baroness who tempts me out of my bed tonight. I knew very well who this bedchamber belonged to.” He braced a hand against the headboard and bent low, his face mere inches from the other man’s. “My interest lies in you, Hastings. I…want…you.”
The Baron’s mouth parted in surprise, and Piers did not waste the opportunity. He swooped down, capturing the other man’s lips in a fierce kiss. The Baron seemed to freeze at the unexpected onslaught, so Piers eased the pressure a bit and began to nip and lick those firm, luscious lips. His cock stirred, and he angled his head, deepening the kiss.
A firm hand suddenly pushed against his chest. “What are you doing?” Hastings asked. His breathing was ragged, his face flushed with obvious desire.
“Am I being too subtle? Very well.” Piers parted his banyan and tossed it aside revealing his hard, naked body. He watched Hastings’s eyes widen with shock and hunger, especially when the other man stared at his jutting erection. Piers was somewhat vain about his appearance, and it pleased him to see the Baron’s obvious appreciation of his wares.
He strolled to the other side of the bed and climbed in beneath the covers. Then he slid over until he was flush against the other man, who continued to stare mutely at him. Piers’s clients usually couldn’t wait to get into his bed, and he rarely caught any of them unawares. Hastings’s genuine surprise and barely concealed need, however, flamed his own desire in a most unexpected way.
Smiling, he brushed back some of the golden locks that had fallen across the Baron’s forehead. “You wish to know what I plan to do with you? Since seduction doesn’t seem to be your strong suit, I’ll talk plainly so we understand each other perfectly. I plan to kiss and taste every inch of you. Then I’m going to push my hard cock deep inside your delectable arse. I’ll ride you long and hard until you’re writhing with pleasure and moaning my name as I make you spill your seed over and over again. Then, if you’re up for it, we can see how well you can manage a steed. What do you say to that, Hastings?”
The shock in the other man’s eyes slowly morphed into something resembling an inferno. He grabbed the back of Piers’s head pulling him toward him. “Call me Horatio.” Then he was kissing Piers with an enthusiasm that took him aback at first. He quickly recovered and took control of the kiss. Their tongues dueled, and he sucked Horatio’s tongue, eliciting a deep moan that made his cock harden even more. He ran his hands down the hard ridges of the other man’s body, enjoying the feel of his solid limbs and hard muscles. Piers appreciated physically active lovers and detested some of the softer, more pampered members of the upper class who solicited his services more often than not. He pushed Horatio’s nightshirt up to his chest and wrapped his hand around the Baron’s cock. Piers smiled as the other man practically jolted off the bed.
“Easy,” he said softly between kisses. “I’m going to take care of you. I was going to take things slow, but I think I need to take the edge off. We have all night to play.”
He helped pull the nightshirt up and over Horatio’s head and then kissed his way down Horatio’s body until he reached his very erect manhood. The head had grown sleek from the barest of stimulation, and Piers wondered how long it had been since the Baron had welcomed a lover into his bed. Judging by the harsh draw of his breath and the tenseness of his body, he assumed it had been a while. Piers swirled his tongue around the tip of the cock and took him in all the way to the back of his throat. Horatio gasped, his hand fisting in Piers’s brown locks as his hips rose pushing himself deeper into his mouth.
Piers had long ago mastered the ability to relax his muscles to swallow a cock without gagging, but Horatio’s enthusiasm almost unnerved him. He wrapped his hand around the base of the throbbing member and began to pump Horatio with firm even strokes as his mouth continued to lick and suckle. Within moments, Horatio cried out, his body tensing, his fingers digging roughly into Piers’s scalp. When hi
s throbbing cock finally stilled, Piers gave him one final lick and looked up. Horatio was flushed and looked dazed, as though he was trying to determine if this was some sort of dream.
Piers smiled wolfishly as he kissed his way back up the Baron’s body until he was staring down at him, his cock a hard rod between them. “That was the first orgasm, but you rather disappointed me…not a hint of my name on your lips.” He sucked the other man’s lower lip and gave it a soft nip. “Perhaps you can do better next time.”
“Next time?” Horatio asked with a shaky breath.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” Piers replied. He pushed himself up and rolled off the bed, retrieving his banyan which he’d tossed aside earlier. He withdrew a vial from the pocket and slung the garment over the foot of the bed.
Horatio sat up, eyeing him uncertainly. “What is that?”
“My own personal blend of olive oil and lavender. I know a woman in London who makes it especially for me, and while it’s expensive, I do believe the pleasure far outweighs the cost. Now then, enough questions, my Lord. If you recall, I mean to ride you hard. Since you seem to be out of practice, I’ll do my best to make this as smooth and painless as possible.”
Chapter 6
Horatio watched silently as Piers opened the vial and poured the oil into one hand before rubbing his fingers together. His eyes practically bulged from his head as the beautiful virile man before him began stroking himself, his hand gliding sleekly over his engorged member. His mouth watered. He wanted to taste him, to master the other man’s hard body and bring him to his knees as Piers had so easily done to him. He wasn’t given the chance to do so, however. Piers bent down and crushed his lips in another rough kiss before pushing him onto his side and stretching his long hard body behind him.
With his heartbeat hammering inside his ears, Horatio gasped as Piers pushed one sleek finger inside his arse, Piers’s mouth nipping at his ear. Horatio moaned and his cock twitched begging for more stimulation. Piers added a second finger, curling them upward. Unwilling to just lay there, Horatio reached behind him to grab Piers’s smooth cock, stroking him as the other man began to fuck his arse with his fingers.
He heard Piers’s breath hitch and felt a surge of triumph. It was short-lived, though, as Piers grabbed his hand and placed it firmly in front of him. “That’s quite enough, my Lord. My cock would like a turn now.”
Piers gave one of his ass cheeks a slap before massaging and nudging it aside, allowing his cock head to graze his hole. He propped himself on one elbow and grabbed Horatio’s hip as he slowly pushed himself inside. The oil allowed Piers’s member to glide all the way in, stretching Horatio’s tight, unused muscles.
Horatio groaned at the mixture of pain and pleasure that ignited every nerve in his body. Oh, how he’d missed this—missed having sex with someone he desired. He didn’t need to use his imagination to stay hard or to replace the face of his current lover with that of another to bring himself to climax. Jonathan’s image had begun to fade over the years, and with it his ability to perform his duties as a husband.
Horatio heard Piers groan into his ear. “Damn, Horatio, you’re so bloody tight, you’re practically strangling my cock.”
He liked hearing his name on the other man’s lips. He couldn’t quite believe his luck, having this sinfully experienced lover in his bed. He moved his hand down and began to stroke himself as the other man rolled his hips, setting a slow, languid pace. Piers pushed Horatio’s hand away replacing it with his own, pumping his length while thrusting faster into him from behind. Horatio groaned and shut his eyes, willing himself not to spill too soon. Suddenly, Horatio heard a door click shut and his eyes flew open. He stiffened, and Piers froze behind him, realizing the same moment he did that they were no longer alone.
His wife stood in her nightgown, her dark hair unbound and a hand on the handle of the adjoining door, watching them. From her position, she had a perfect view of the bed and of the two of them entwined. There could be no mistaking what they were doing. His heart sank in horror, and he pushed Piers away from him, covering himself with part of the blanket. “Caro, I—” he began.
“My Lady,” Piers said, leaping off the bed in all his naked glory and holding out a hand toward her. “Won’t you join us?”
Horatio made a choked sound, but to his utter shock, his wife moved forward and placed a hand in Piers’s. When they both turned to face him, he came to a startling realization. They’d planned this! His shock and humiliation quickly morphed into outrage. “What the bloody hell is going on here?” he demanded, his voice trembling with suppressed anger.
Caroline winced slightly but moved forward until she reached the bed. She cupped his cheek and said gently, “I want you to be happy, my love, and you have not been happy. I can’t be what you need and…you can’t give me what I want.”
Old feelings of guilt and shame threatened to overwhelm him. He was a failure…he’d failed in his duty as head of the family, and he was a failure as a husband. He’d promised to make Caroline happy when she’d saved him from ruin six years ago, but he hadn’t been able to do right by her. He hadn’t been able to give her the child she’d longed for.
“I’m so sorry, Caroline,” he murmured dejectedly.
She shook her head, forcing his chin upward to meet her gaze. “Never apologize for being who you are. You never lied to me or pretended to be something you’re not. But there is a way for us to be happy, you see. Extraordinary circumstances sometimes call for extraordinary measures.”
The pressure in his chest eased somewhat, and Horatio narrowed his eyes, looking past her to Piers. “Who is he, then? And don’t tell me some architect, I’m not sure why I believed you to begin with.”
Caroline opened her mouth to reply, but the other man cut her off. “Piers Benson, resident of London’s most exclusive brothel, The Scarlet Salon, and professional courtesan,” he added with a mock bow.
Horatio sucked in a breath. “You hired a male whore from London to bring into our home and our marriage bed?”
His wife let out a laugh that sounded a bit hysterical. “Yes, Hori, I did.”
Mind reeling, Horatio rose from the bed, wrapped the blanket around his waist, and moved past her and Piers into his dressing room. He needed a moment to collect himself, to process his wife’s outlandish actions. Blocking out the sound of their murmured voices, he tried to look at the situation rationally. It was a mad scheme by all accounts. He couldn’t help wondering, though, if it might just work. As Caroline had pointed out, theirs was not a conventional marriage. Perhaps, what happened in their marriage bed didn’t have to be conventional either. But could he trust this Piers Benson—trust that he wouldn’t prove to be another Jonathan?
Chapter 7
Caroline let out a sigh of relief when Horatio finally emerged from the dressing room. His look of shock and confusion was replaced with cool determination. She shifted somewhat nervously, preparing herself for the scolding she was certainly about to receive.
He paused in front of her and Piers, looking between the two of them. “So,” Horatio began slowly, “what exactly was the arrangement you both agreed to?”
Not a scolding or condemnation then! Relaxing slightly, Caroline reached for one of his hands and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She began to reply when Piers interrupted her again, “Your wife would like a child, and I’m here to help you give her one. You have nothing to worry about, however, Lady Hastings has thought of everything. You’re to be the only one she’ll have intercourse with—can’t risk any by-blows, you know. My role is simply to inspire you to accomplish this arduous task.”
Horatio raised a mocking brow at that, and Caroline laughed nervously trying to dispel the awkwardness. “It doesn’t need to be so mechanical. Begetting a child can be pleasurable. Indeed, I don’t see why we can’t all enjoy the experience.”
At least that’s what she’d heard other women say. Her marital bed may not have been exactly satisfyi
ng, but it hadn’t been a hardship either.
Horatio simply looked at her, while Piers smiled back. “Of course we can. I may do this for a living, but I can certainly enjoy myself in the process. It would please me to bring you both immense satisfaction in the bedroom.”
“No intercourse,” she reminded him sternly.
“My dear Lady, there are many ways to bring pleasure to a woman without any actual penetration. That is,” Piers paused looking between her and Horatio, “if I have your consent as well as your husband’s.”
Her eyebrows shot up, intrigued by his suggestion. She gave a quick nod, certain she wasn't able to conceal the eagerness she felt, then turned to her husband.
Horatio ran a palm down his face. “This is a most unorthodox conversation and completely improper.”
Caroline bit back a smile; poor Horatio was having a hard time taking it all in. Not that she blamed him—she must seem like an excellent candidate for Bedlam right about now. Still, she did feel there was a certain logic behind this unusual arrangement.
Horatio eyed them both before finally responding, “I don’t like to share, especially those I love. But I suppose you’ll be sharing me as well, Caroline. You have my permission, Piers, to make this as enjoyable for her as possible. Do you have experience pleasing women?”
The male courtesan grinned. “I always say that my sexual inclinations are more of a preference than a prejudice. I love women and enjoy exploring their soft, luscious curves.”
His words and eyes caressed her, and Caroline blushed as a stab of desire shot through her. She was very much aware of how naked Piers was and that his member was growing even harder as he took a step closer to her. He slowly circled her waist and brought her body up against his. As her lips parted in surprise, he dipped his head and kissed her. She eagerly returned his embrace, and when his tongue pushed into her mouth, she couldn’t stifle her moan of pleasure. Her sex began to throb as she felt his hard erection against her belly. Lost in the kiss, it took her a moment to realize that someone was at her back, kissing her neck and caressing her buttocks. Horatio!
