Read Online A Fashionable Indulgence (Society of Gentlemen #1) by Kj Charles - Free Book Online
Authors: Kj Charles
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will act the gentleman, Gideon will play the role of affectionate grandfather, property will be transferred, and the dance continues as it should.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. It is, as you say, for Harry’s benefit.” Julius put down his unfinished glass. The excellent port tasted sour. “Come, let us join the others.”
—
Julius stalked along the hall, glass in hand, looking for Harry as the clocks chimed eleven.
He’d left Dominic and Richard in the drawing room together, since it was evident they had wanted to talk. He was fairly sure they would do no more than talk—their
affaire
had ended well over a decade ago, and Richard had not taken a lover since he and Julius had embarked on an embarrassingly unsuccessful liaison two years back—but one never knew, and he had no wish to act the gooseberry. Those marks on Dominic’s wrists had come from large, strong hands, and Richard was a big man. Perhaps Dominic was playing at all fours for Richard once more—it was notorious among them that Dominic took his pleasures on his knees—and that was what had put him in a better frame of mind.
Perhaps Julius should stop thinking about what other men did with their pricks, and find something to do with his own.
Of course, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with it, which was all the more reason he should not be looking for Harry now. He should go back to London and find someone who wasn’t full of youth and passion and joy and didn’t have a future to secure. Absalom Lockwood, maybe. The poor fellow was hopelessly, humiliatingly in love with Ash; perhaps they could fuck the discontent from each other.
He should go to bed—alone—rather than torturing himself with temptation that he had no intention of indulging.
He turned the corner. Six feet ahead of him, the study door was open. Harry stood in the corridor just in front of it, staring in, stunned.
Julius opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a voice came from the study, strained and muffled but entirely audible in the silence of the hall.
“Gabriel. More. Harder.”
“Oh Jesus, Francis,” Ash gasped from within the room. There was a slap of flesh against flesh. “God, that’s good. I love you.
Fuck.
”
Julius moved. He took two silent strides, clapped his hand over Harry’s mouth, wrapped his other arm round his neck to ensure immediate obedience, and dragged him, unresisting, sideways and back around the corner. There was a curtained alcove in the hall, the thick damask drawn to keep out the night chill, and Julius pushed Harry through the gap in the thick drapes, feeling the air cool on his heated skin, then released him. It was very dark.
“Julius? What are you doing?” Harry asked. He sounded bewildered but not frightened, thank God. In the last three seconds Julius’s imagination had shown him an endlessly detailed nightmare of consequences: weeping, denunciation, arrest, and shame; or worse, what they’d have to do to keep him quiet, the constant threat he’d pose. If Harry kept calm, perhaps the worst could be averted.
“Privacy,” Julius said. “For everyone.”
“I didn’t mean to…I just opened the door and they were backgammoning right there!”
“Yes, I know. Listen to me, Harry.” Julius took hold of his shoulder, putting all the intensity he could behind his words. “You will not tell a soul of this, do you understand? Not a word, a hint, a nod, or a wink. Richard is your cousin and I am your friend, but if you endanger Ash and Francis—”
“I won’t.” Harry spoke over him. “I swear I won’t.”
“You
can’t.
” Julius gripped harder, fingers biting Harry’s flesh. “They could hang for this. I am very fond of you, Harry, but do not cross us, or we will have to act.”
“Us?”
Julius stared through the dark, trying to make out Harry’s features. Outside, the night was pitch black. The faintest glow reached through the thick curtains from the sconces in the
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. It is, as you say, for Harry’s benefit.” Julius put down his unfinished glass. The excellent port tasted sour. “Come, let us join the others.”
—
Julius stalked along the hall, glass in hand, looking for Harry as the clocks chimed eleven.
He’d left Dominic and Richard in the drawing room together, since it was evident they had wanted to talk. He was fairly sure they would do no more than talk—their
affaire
had ended well over a decade ago, and Richard had not taken a lover since he and Julius had embarked on an embarrassingly unsuccessful liaison two years back—but one never knew, and he had no wish to act the gooseberry. Those marks on Dominic’s wrists had come from large, strong hands, and Richard was a big man. Perhaps Dominic was playing at all fours for Richard once more—it was notorious among them that Dominic took his pleasures on his knees—and that was what had put him in a better frame of mind.
Perhaps Julius should stop thinking about what other men did with their pricks, and find something to do with his own.
Of course, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with it, which was all the more reason he should not be looking for Harry now. He should go back to London and find someone who wasn’t full of youth and passion and joy and didn’t have a future to secure. Absalom Lockwood, maybe. The poor fellow was hopelessly, humiliatingly in love with Ash; perhaps they could fuck the discontent from each other.
He should go to bed—alone—rather than torturing himself with temptation that he had no intention of indulging.
He turned the corner. Six feet ahead of him, the study door was open. Harry stood in the corridor just in front of it, staring in, stunned.
Julius opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a voice came from the study, strained and muffled but entirely audible in the silence of the hall.
“Gabriel. More. Harder.”
“Oh Jesus, Francis,” Ash gasped from within the room. There was a slap of flesh against flesh. “God, that’s good. I love you.
Fuck.
”
Julius moved. He took two silent strides, clapped his hand over Harry’s mouth, wrapped his other arm round his neck to ensure immediate obedience, and dragged him, unresisting, sideways and back around the corner. There was a curtained alcove in the hall, the thick damask drawn to keep out the night chill, and Julius pushed Harry through the gap in the thick drapes, feeling the air cool on his heated skin, then released him. It was very dark.
“Julius? What are you doing?” Harry asked. He sounded bewildered but not frightened, thank God. In the last three seconds Julius’s imagination had shown him an endlessly detailed nightmare of consequences: weeping, denunciation, arrest, and shame; or worse, what they’d have to do to keep him quiet, the constant threat he’d pose. If Harry kept calm, perhaps the worst could be averted.
“Privacy,” Julius said. “For everyone.”
“I didn’t mean to…I just opened the door and they were backgammoning right there!”
“Yes, I know. Listen to me, Harry.” Julius took hold of his shoulder, putting all the intensity he could behind his words. “You will not tell a soul of this, do you understand? Not a word, a hint, a nod, or a wink. Richard is your cousin and I am your friend, but if you endanger Ash and Francis—”
“I won’t.” Harry spoke over him. “I swear I won’t.”
“You
can’t.
” Julius gripped harder, fingers biting Harry’s flesh. “They could hang for this. I am very fond of you, Harry, but do not cross us, or we will have to act.”
“Us?”
Julius stared through the dark, trying to make out Harry’s features. Outside, the night was pitch black. The faintest glow reached through the thick curtains from the sconces in the
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