On May 1st, My latest Regency novella released from Evernight Publishing!
This sexy m/m regency is part of a series I'm working on with the fabulous Raven McAllan! Look for her contribution later this month in Celia's Claim.
When Randall Gretton's father leaves his family behind to
seek out his lost love, Randall finds an unexpected sympathy in his father's
actions. The dashing soldier takes completely to heart his father's advice to
his children, "If you are fortunate enough to find love, then seize
it."
Is a chance encounter at a masquerade Randall's chance at
lifetime love?
He closed the door
behind himself and turned the key in the lock. The book room was lit by a
single porcelain candelabrum on the mantel piece. In the flickering candlelight
he located Terence at the fireplace, swirling a snifter of brandy in his hand.
Terence turned his head, tensing at the sound of the key turning in the lock.
"Never fear.
It's just me. I'd about given up hope of finding you; there are so very many
highwaymen present tonight. Next time you must choose a more singular
disguise." Checking the room carefully for any other entrance, Randall
realized Terence had chosen the perfect place for their encounter.
The highwayman
glanced back at him, dark eyes glittering through the slits of his long mask.
"I'd hate to draw attention." Hi voice was muffled by the mask, but
Randall caught the faint foreign accent he aped and rolled his eyes.
Randall felt his
blood heat as that hooded gaze traveled down his form. His cock stirred and
this time he made no move to hide his interest. "Truth, Terence, attention
is to be avoided, but there is something to be said for ease of recognition in
these circumstances."
He crossed the
Aubusson carpet to stand in front of his lover, drew the man to him. Terence
came willingly enough into his embrace, but when Randall tried to raise the
man's domino to reveal his features, Terence caught his hand in a gloved grip.
"No. Just in case, we must be discreet."
"I did lock
the door, you know." Randall buried his face in the fabric and tightened
his arms, crushing Terence along his length. The man's costume was a miracle of
tailoring, for he seemed to have even added padding to his narrow shoulders and
lifts to his boots.
"Yes, but
that might not be the only key."
Truly, Terence was
more concerned than usual about being recognized! He'd even foregone his normal
heavy drenching of spicy oriental scent in favor of a delicate sandalwood
cologne that teased at Randall's senses quite delightfully. Reluctantly Randall
released his crushing grip on the domino and let his hands slide down Terence's
back to cup his taut buttocks through the thin pantaloons. "Very well,
then. Come away with me for the night so we can be private."
"I
cannot." Hard hands closed on his own buttocks, squeezed them
meaningfully. Randall shivered. His cock thickened, his blood stirred. Terence
pulled him closer still, so that their groins rested against one another. A few
thin layers of fabric separated them, but the heat was as unmistakable as the
thick ridge his prick rubbed against.
"But I leave
tomorrow, I told you as much." Randall protested, grinding into the sweet
pressure on his prick. "Never mind. If this is all the moment we have,
then I want more than this." He wedged his hands in between their bodies,
enjoyed Terence's gasp when he squeezed the man's prick through his pantaloons,
and began working their garments open.
"You're very
bold tonight." The breathless statement was followed by a swift, muttered
curse as Randall caught their pricks in his hand and stroked them together.
"I?"
Randall leaned into Terence and bit the man's ear lobe sharply. "I
suggested we meet in the usual place, secure and behind closed doors. You were
the one who had a hankering for challenging the ton. Is it turning you on, making
you hot to think that just a few feet away the others are dancing and drinking
and making merry?"
"Damn you,
harder!" Terence's hand closed over his and Randall shuddered as the grip
tightened, the rhythm roughened. He stared down between them, to where their
hands slid up and down, squeezing drops of clear liquid from each prick that
mingled and streamed down to slick the path of their movements. Terence's hand
on his cock was more erotic than ever, and maybe it was the thought of being
caught out, of the scandal that lurked, but his body was tensing, and beads of
perspiration formed. He threw back his head, slipped his free hand down the
back of Terence's pantaloons and into his small clothes. Terence trembled
against him, Randall soothed him with a whispered word, cupped his buttock, and
let his fingers trail along the crease of the man's arse.
"Have a
care...we can't do that here."
"I am
aware," he chuckled dryly, catching his breath. His fingers brushed over
the puckered hole, Terence shuddered, his cock stiffening still further, the
skin stretched so tight and fine Randal could swear he felt the man's heart
beat in the blood that swelled his organ.
"Damnation...so
very good." Terence was bucking into his grip, losing his rhythm. Randal
rubbed the hole, pressed the very tip of his finger inside, and let the
exultation flood him as Terence's seed spilled along his cock, in jet after
jet.
"That's
right." He murmured. "Give me your pleasure." He milked the
softening cock of every last drop of seed, then wiped them both off with his
handkerchief.
His cock throbbed
with want, and he smiled at the man he'd come to realize was most decidedly not
Terence. "At this point, Terence would drop to his knees and suck me. Are
you of a like mind?"
"So you've
realized I'm not your friend, have you?" The strange highwayman tucked
himself away and refastened his pantaloons. "What happens now?"
"Now, I'm
still in need of release, and you are a likeminded fellow it seems. If you
cannot bring yourself to suck me, then your hand will do as well."
The black domino
muted the man's laughter, but he obligingly dropped to his knees on the plush
carpet and with a little deft maneuvering of his mask and Randall's cock, had
him encased in wet heat and strong suction within moments.
Randall sighed and
let his hands rest on the velvet of the mask, ordinarily he'd have twined his
fingers in his lover's hair, to give his hands something to do. Idle hands are the devil's work his
mother used to say, but then again...so was this sodomy. "You're very good
at this," he sighed, sinking deeply into the wet mouth, enjoying the light
scrape of teeth. His blood surged, an agile tongue toyed with the tip of his
cock on each retreat, swirling and sucking, drawing rushes f pleasure from him
as his body tensed, thighs stiffening. Heat pooled and exploded, and with it
his seed pulsed into the receptive mouth.
As soon as his
senses returned he withdrew politely. The stranger rose to his feet as Randall
tucked himself away again. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me your
name, highwayman?"
"You don't
suppose correctly. Unless, of course, you'd like to tell me yours, Robin of the
Hood? No? I thought not." The man swept a deep bow and waved to the door.
"After you, my lord thief."
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