Amor Meus

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “Your scheme is quite safe,” Nathanial assured her.

  She walked out, letting the door swing shut behind her.

  Chapter Three

  “Where is Anne going?” Sebastian asked, staring at the closed door. “She is undressed!”

  “I imagine she will pick the lock of someone else’s room, and step inside to finish dressing. I have never worried about Anne. She is quite capable of taking care of herself. She had done it all her life.” Nathanial strode over to the door and turned the key, locking it.

  He came back to where Sebastian was standing by the fire, his gaze fixed on him.

  Sebastian swallowed again. His heart was beating irregularly. It felt like he was on the very brink of some enormous event, but he didn’t know what that might be.

  When Nathanial reached him once more, Sebastian drew a steadying breath. “You should know, Nathanial, that I have never….” He couldn’t speak the words.

  Nathanial studied him gravely. “You have never been with a man before?”

  Memories tapped at his thoughts. Harsh ones. Dark ones. Pain. The hot beer-ladened breath fanning his face. Big hands holding him down.

  “No,” he said quickly, then shook his head. “I mean yes. That is not my concern. It isn’t a concern. It is a confession.” He stopped himself from babbling and drew another breath. “I have never kissed a man before.”

  “Ah…” Nathanial gave him a small smile. “You’re very good at it, for someone who has never done it before.”

  Sebastian could feel the heat of a blush in his cheeks. “I liked it,” he said flatly. “It seemed…right.”

  “It did, didn’t it?” Nathanial agreed. He curled his hands around Sebastian’s shoulders. “I would like to do it again.”

  “As would I.” His voice was tight with anticipation.

  Nathanial pressed his lips against Sebastian’s and it was as wonderful as the first kiss. Wonderful and so different! His heart began to thunder in his chest again. He tried not to think of what lay ahead, for thinking of it brought all the old memories swimming to the surface. Instead, he focused on the delight Nathanial’s kiss gave him.

  His body tightened, the deepening pleasure circling and arousing.

  Nathanial’s hand slid over his buttock, cupping it, making Sebastian’s hip jerk in response, a little thrust that signified how agreeable Nathanial’s touch was to him.

  Nathanial drew him closer, until their bodies were pressed tightly together, their tumescent cocks pressed against each other’s bellies. His fingers stroked Sebastian’s back and rear.

  This…gentleness was unknown to Sebastian. The tenderness was novel and very nice. It let him relax and reach for Nathanial, sliding his hand along Nathanial’s well developed arms.

  Nathanial slid his lips from Sebastian, down over his chin, to his throat. It was a unique sensation, just like all the novel feelings he was experiencing. Nathanial’s lips pressed against the base of his throat, on the side of his neck.

  Sebastian’s breath was ragged, as if he had run his heart out. His excitement was building far more rapidly than it had with Anne. He never wanted this to end, though.

  Nathanial stepped away from him, and picked up his hand. “Come,” he said, his voice low. He led Sebastian into the bedroom, with the big, high bed, and Sebastian’s heart leapt even higher.

  Nathanial opened the wardrobe and pulled from the bottom of it a small bottle, which he sat upon the small table next to the bed. Sebastian looked at it curiously. “What is that?”

  “Oil,” Nathanial said. “It eases your way and ensures there is no pain.”

  Sebastian’s mouth opened. “No pain? Is that possible?”

  Nathanial glanced at him sharply. “You have not willingly been with a man before.”

  Sebastian shook his head. It did not seem to be a shameful thing to admit it. Not to Nathanial.

  “Oh, Bastian….” Nathanial sounded sad. He moved closer and pressed his hand against Sebastian’s jaw. His thumb stroked over his cheek. “I will not hurt you.”

  “I don’t care if you do. Not you.”

  “I will not. You will find this as pleasurable as anything you have ever experienced.”

  Sebastian didn’t know what to say. There was still a small pocket of fear in him, despite the reassurance he felt.

  Nathanial kissed him briefly. “Lie down,” he directed. “On your back.”

  Puzzled, Sebastian did so, pushing the rumpled covers aside. Nathanial tugged at his knees, demonstrating great strength, pulling him closer to the side of the bed, to the point where his rear was just at the edge. Nathanial spread his knees, and curled his fingers around Sebastian’s cock.

  Sebastian drew in a sharp breath, almost a gasp. The sensation was almost overwhelming. His cock stirred under Nathanial’s touch, for he was drawing his fingers up and down the length of him.

  Sebastian gripped the sheet with both hands. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Nathanial knew exactly what was the most pleasurable pressure, the best stroke…. When his other hand cupped his balls and squeezed, Sebastian cried out.

  Nathanial bent and slid his lips over the end of his cock and this time Sebastian reared up in reaction, reaching for his head. It was the most glorious sensation!

  But Nathanial pushed him back down upon the bed. “Stay still. Enjoy yourself,” he ordered, then plunged his cock back into his mouth.

  Sebastian gripped the sheets again, desperately, as Nathanial worked his magic. When Sebastian was sure he could withstand not a second more of it, without spending himself in a hard rush, Nathanial straightened and reached for the bottle. He poured some of the oil into his hand, watching Sebastian. He was smiling.

  Sebastian tried to recover his breath. Tried to calm his heart. But now he knew what was about to happen, and his high state of excitement let him anticipate it with pleasure.

  Nathanial first took his own cock in hand and spread the oil along it. Just watching him stroke himself was arousing and Sebastian swallowed.

  Then Nathanial stroked Sebastian’s flesh below his balls, sliding his slick fingers into his rear. Sebastian caught his breath, surprised at how pleasurable his touch was. His body clenched in anticipation as Nathanial’s fingers pressed and retreated, then again, his knuckles spreading him open. Nathanial was preparing him, Sebastian realized. Such consideration had been missing in the past, when he had been taken by his masters.

  Sebastian relaxed, his trust in Nathanial complete, his body tight with the tension that came from pleasure, not pain.

  Nathanial held Sebastian’s knees apart and press his oiled cock up against him. He glanced at him. “Ready?”

  “Very.”

  Nathanial pushed inside him, and as he had promised, there was no pain. Sebastian held his breath, marveling at the delight that seemed to build from deep in his belly. This was glorious!

  Nathanial slid inside, only halting when he was fully lodged within. Sebastian could barely control himself – his breath was shuddering in and out and his hips giving small, involuntary thrusts. “Christ above,” Sebastian muttered, his fingers digging into the mattress.

  Nathanial merely smiled. His eyes were half-closed, the brilliant blue almost hidden. He wrapped his hand around Sebastian’s cock, the hand that was coated in oil, and began to stroke. At the same time, he thrust with his own.

  Sebastian closed his eyes, trying to halt the swiftly building explosion of pleasure. He wanted these sensations to last. But he was powerless to prevent the coming release. It swept him up in the sparkling, breath-snatching current, pulling him along.

  With a cry that sounded hoarse, he came in a hot rush, as Nathanial’s hand squeezed and stroked. It was an astounding feeling, stealing his thoughts and holding him still for what felt like endless heart beats.

  Nathanial thrust harder and faster, his own climax upon him. His jaw flexed and he groaned as he came, leaning over Sebastian to prop himself upon the bed.

 
; For long minutes they remained there, as Sebastian listened to his frantic heartbeat slow. “That was….” He could not think of a superlative that would adequately describe his feelings.

  “Yes,” Nathanial agreed, his voice low. He straightened up, his cock slipping from Sebastian’s body. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I fully intend to repeat that moment, several times. I won’t have you passing out for lack of food or drink.”

  “Do you care if I have appointments to meet?” Sebastian asked curiously.

  “Do you have appointments you care to meet, right now?” Nathanial returned.

  Sebastian considered him. “Even if the King of England himself were to request my presence, I believe I would prefer to stay right here.”

  Nathanial picked up the bottle of oil again. “Then we are agreed. Good.” His mouth lifted in a small smile. “Brace yourself.”

  * * * * *

  Twelve hours later, dressed in his new finery, Sebastian again walked the paths of the East Park, checking each group of ladies he approached to spot his quarry. He felt pleasantly drained, energetic and oddly happy. His body carried odd aches from his exertions the night before, but no pain. Every time he thought about the hours he had spent in Nathanial’s bed, his body would tighten, recalling the pleasure he had experienced.

  But he needed to keep his mind on the task at hand, and this morning, that meant picking up the reins of his plan to acquire some of Lady Wandsworth’s sixty thousand pounds.

  “Sebastian!” The light call came from behind him, and he turned to look. He had been moving at a pace that let him catch up with each group of strollers. Behind him, Anne was hurrying along, her hand lifting her hem just enough to let her maintain her pace. As she wore no corsetry or restrictive garments under her dress, it was possible for her to walk at a rapid pace and not tire. But she could not run, not in public, so Sebastian halted, letting her catch up.

  “I see you have recovered from your disappointment of last night,” he told her.

  “Oh, that? Never mind that,” she said and slipped her hand under his elbow and turned him to walk the path. “I’m glad I found you before you found Lady Wandsworth.”

  “Oh?”

  She gave him a smile that brought out her dimples in a very pleasing way. “You are far too suspicious,” she accused him. “I only wanted to speak to you alone.”

  “You risk besmirching the reputation Lady Wandsworth believes you to have, walking with me.”

  “I’ll risk it. Sebastian, you heard Nathanial talking about the Queen of France’s stolen necklace, yesterday.”

  He sighed. “That silly story. I am weary of all mention of it, but women seem to find it vastly amusing.”

  “The necklace is in England,” Anne said.

  “So Nathanial said.”

  “Of course, Nathanial would know that,” she added.

  Sebastian glanced at her. “Why?” he asked, but he already knew. She had been leading him to this conclusion.

  “Because Nathanial has the necklace.”

  Sebastian disciplined himself not to speak and not react, until he had considered the full ramifications of this startling piece of news. “He plays a very cool game,” he remarked, remembering how Nathanial had entertained the ladies with the gossip about the necklace. He had spoken very casually.

  “He has smuggled it into England to sell it,” Anne continued.

  Sebastian shook his head. “No one could sell that necklace, not anywhere in the world and especially in England. It is too remarkable and too well known.”

  “Not if the necklace was broken down into silver and diamonds. They could be sold for their value and all risk removed.”

  “You would lose all value the heritage of the necklace provides,” Sebastian replied, thinking it through. He was not completely familiar with the purchase and sale of stolen jewelry. Stealing was not his preferred means of raising cash. However, he was knowledgeable enough to know that a piece of jewelry with a rich history was more valuable than the gems that went into it. This necklace, the Queen’s necklace, was dripping with scandal in high places.

  “As you say, he would not be able to sell the necklace while it remains whole. It is too recognizable. No one would want to be saddled with an item that was being sought for across Europe by every authority in every land.” She squeezed his arm. “That is why Nathanial is looking for a quick sale. He wants to be rid of it. It is too dangerous an item to hold for long.”

  “Yes, indeed it is,” Sebastian agreed. “But why are you telling me this? Nathanial knows, just as you do, that I am not wealthy. I am the last man Nathanial could consider as a potential buyer.”

  Anne sighed. “I must spell this out clearly.”

  “Yes, you must.”

  “I want you to help me steal the necklace from Nathanial,” she said, her expression happy and charming.

  Chapter Four

  “You are very quiet tonight,” Nathaniel observed, as they crossed the third intersection. The theatre was close by and carriages delivering their upper class theatre patrons were thick upon the road they walked beside.

  Sebastian closed off the dark thoughts plaguing him with effort and gave Nathanial a small smile. “It is nothing.”

  “Has no one ever taught you the folly of lying to a liar?” Nathanial told him.

  Sebastian sighed. “No, but that sounds like remarkable sense. It really is a small matter, Nathanial. I could not find Lady Wandsworth in the park this morning. I really should speak to her quite soon if I am to forward my plans.”

  “Especially if you want to cut Anne off from her money as well,” Nathanial added with a smile.

  They reached the final intersection before the theatre. A narrow lane ran down to the back of the theatre, giving access to the backstage for wagons and coaches.

  “’ere, you!” came a gruff call from the lane. “Nathanial!”

  They both turned to look down the lane. There was a rough-looking fellow with an unkempt beard and dirty face, which were all the details about the man that Sebastian could see because of the lack of light there. The man was standing a pace or so inside the lane. He beckoned with his fingers. “Ye oughtta come here,” he said. “I’ve a message for ye.”

  Sebastian stayed where he was. “Is this really as obvious as it seems?” he asked softly.

  Nathaniel was frowning. “I’m not entirely sure,” he murmured. He lifted his chin and spoke to the man. “Who is the message from?”

  “Now, that’d be tellin’, wouldn’t it?”

  Nathanial stepped into the lane and Sebastian caught at his arm. “Nathanial, no.”

  “It’s alright,” Nathanial said softly, over his shoulder. “I would like to know what the message is. It might be important.”

  “Delivered by a rogue like this? Don’t be stupid.”

  “It will be alright,” Nathanial repeated. “Stay here. Stay out of it.” He strode toward the ruffian who melted backwards into the darkness. Sebastian moved forward into the lane, following Nathanial, trying to see what the lack of light was hiding.

  Then the moon came out from behind a cloud and Sebastian saw that the man had halted halfway along the length of the lane. Nathanial stopped in front of him. Nathanial stood taller than him by half-a-head, but Sebastian had noticed that he stood taller than all men. The ruffian was taller than most.

  “Tell me your message,” Nathaniel demanded.

  The ruffian grinned. “Grab ‘im, lads.”

  Two men, both equivalent in dirt and lack of grooming, stepped out of a deeply recessed doorway, behind Nathanial. They circled around either side of him and caught his elbows with both hands.

  Nathanial glanced at them, then at the spokesman. “I see. It is to be like that, is it?”

  “It don’t ‘ave to be,” the man said. “You just ‘ave to tell us where the necklace is.”

  “Necklace?” Nathanial asked, his tone that of a
puzzled man.

  Sebastian caught his breath, as a wash of horror spread through him. Anne was behind this. She wanted to know the location of the necklace. “No, Nathanial! Wait!” He rushed toward them, but he was already too late. The leader curled his hands into fists, and buried them in Nathanial’s stomach.

  Nathanial folded forward with a hard exhalation and the leader doubled up his fists, clenching one within the other, and hammered down on Nathanial’s exposed back.

  Nathanial would have dropped to the ground, except for the hold the pair had on his arms.

  Sebastian reached the fellow on the left, grabbed his arm and swung him around to face his fist, which he drove into his face, right between the eyes. From experience, he knew a blow like that, properly landed, caused so much pain it momentarily blinded the recipient.

  It was a perfect punch and the man let out a yell and brought his hands up to his eyes, letting Nathanial go. He staggered, yelling incoherently.

  The other drew back his upper lip in a snarling smile and reached into his pocket with one hand, just as the leader delivered another mighty blow upon Nathanial’s back. Nathanial dropped to his hands and knees, coughing.

  The second companion pulled a knife from his pocket. It glittered brightly in the moonlight.

  Sebastian’s chest tightened with growing fury. “Three of you and a knife against an unarmed man? Cowards, all of you.”

  “Stay out of this, boy,” the leader said. “’tis not your business.”

  “When you gang up against my friend, it becomes my business.” He took the three paces that brought him within reach of the fellow with the knife, feinted with his left hand, which brought the blade swinging around to defend against the move. It left the man’s chin open and Sebastian took the offered target, the knuckles of his right hand connecting with an impact that drove the man back a step. But as the man staggered back, he pin wheeled his arms, including the one holding the knife.

  The knife sliced through Sebastian’s new overcoat. There was a brief, sharp sensation that flared in agony.