by AJ Llewellyn
Marcello frowned, bringing his hand up to his throat, only to find a wet stickiness that told him he truly was bleeding. “I do not know how that happened.” Confused he continued to stare at the damning evidence of his indiscretion. Why was he bleeding? Thinking back, there had been a brief moment of pain when Philippe-Auguste was kissing him, but nothing that would justify blood.
“Are you hurt?” Caprice’s brow wrinkled in concern.
“It is a mere scratch,” he assured her.
“Just a scratch this time, but what could happen if you continue to trust everyone you meet, Marcello?” Massimo snapped.
Marcello knew most of the anger in his brother’s voice was because he was concerned. This was not the first time Marcello had trusted somebody while knowing very little about who they truly were.
“Massimo,” Caprice chided. “You sound like an old woman. You are making this whole matter more serious than it really is.”
“Forgive me,” Massimo sneered. “I happen to think it a very serious matter when I catch you in the company of any other man, save for Marcello. Who was he?”
“His name is Philippe-Auguste,” Marcello explained. “I met him a few nights ago during a card game.”
Both Caprice and Massimo looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear what had made him trust the mysterious male enough to introduce him to the female in their relationship. Marcello struggled to find the reason only to come up with a confused blank himself. What had drawn him to the French nobleman?
“Why bring him here tonight?” Caprice tilted her head to the side as one plump curl freed itself from the band holding her hair back.
“I was intrigued by him.” That argument sounded weak, even to his own ears, yet it was all he could offer.
“You were intrigued?” Massimo echoed. “So you decided to expose Caprice to some strange male, just because he made you curious?”
Marcello closed his eyes as shame and regret washed over him. Massimo was correct. He should have never exposed Caprice to such danger. When would he ever learn not to let his emotions rule his actions? As usual, he failed in his duties. “You are right to be angry with me. I should protect our woman, better.”
Caprice’s mouth dropped open as she glared at both of them, her cheeks now pink with rage. “You are two of the most arrogant males I have ever known. What makes you think you can say who I associate with?” She stomped her foot in frustration. Something she would never have dared do in those wretched chopines she favored.
“You are so beautiful when you are angry.” Massimo smiled at her.
Marcello groaned because even he knew that now was not the time for comments like that. He decided to ignore his brother’s statement and try to diffuse the situation his way. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused everyone tonight. This was to be your special evening, Caprice, and I feared I ruined it for you.”
“Yes, you did,” Massimo answered before she could.
“Just take me home.” Caprice gave Marcello a stern look, her usual kind brown eyes snapping with fury.
“Sure, let me take you to give your regards to the hostess and we shall be on our way.” He started to offer her his arm and then brought it back, remembering that she would once again have to put in the guise of a male once they entered the ball.
“I have already given your regrets,” Massimo supplied crisply.
“What gave you the right?” Caprice’s voice shook as she tilted her chin up defiantly.
“I did, as soon as I saw that Frenchman follow you out. I don’t like him or trust him.” He shot a disapproving look over at Marcello.
“You don’t even know him,” Caprice sputtered. “Who are you to make such assumptions?”
“I know enough to decide you shall never see him again.” He cast a withering glare at Marcello. “Either one of you.”
Marcello opened his mouth to argue, however, Massimo stopped him by simply giving a curt gesture with his hand. As always, Marcello immediately obeyed and did not dispute him. Ever since they were mere children, he’d always done what his twin had ordered. Massimo may have only been minutes older, but sometimes it may as well have been years.
“You don’t own me, Massimo,” Caprice said angrily. “What’s more you are not in the position to tell me what I can or cannot do.” She turned on Marcello and directed her fury on him next. “And I am not some toy for you to show off to your new friends.”
Marcello almost argued that she seemed very pleased to have met Philippe-Auguste moments ago when she had been in his embrace, but he kept his mouth closed. It seemed like the wisest move. Even if she was beautiful when she was angry, she was also a force to reckon with and Marcello had no wish to test her patience any further.
She gave them both one last furious glare before she stomped away. She didn’t even bother to turn around.
“Where do you think you are going?” Massimo demanded arrogantly.
“I am leaving this place. Without either one of you.”
The twins watched her leave, both of them silent. Massimo turned, his face red with rage, his eyes dark and narrowed.
Marcello sighed, knowing that when his brother got like this, there would be no peace in their house for quite a while. The familiar feelings of inadequacy, failure and sadness came over him as he dropped his gaze.
“I am not always going to be there to protect you, brother,” Massimo said, his voice still brittle with fury.
“I know,” Marcello answered softly, still refusing to look up. “I’m sorry. It will not happen again.” There was a heavy sigh, followed by footsteps as Massimo came up and gave him a gentle shove of the shoulder.
“Don’t be angry at me,” Massimo pleaded, the irritation all gone from him. “I seek only to protect you.”
“I’m not a child. I can protect myself.” While he knew Massimo had his best interests at heart, it still pricked him that his brother treated him as if he were helpless.
“I believe you can. Yet, I can’t help myself. You are all I have in this world and it would destroy me if anything were to happen to you.”
Marcello finally raised his eyes and was stunned to see the raw emotion on his brother’s usual stoic face. Massimo always hid things deep inside. To see him displaying his weaknesses like this was shocking and it took away all of his resentment. “I promise to use more discretion in the future.” He gave his brother a smile and was relieved when the gesture was returned. For all their differences, he hated it whenever Massimo was angry with him.
“Promise me you will stay away from Philippe-Auguste,” Massimo ordered. “There is something about that man that worries me. I sense he could be a danger to all three of us. While he may attract you and Caprice, I don’t trust him.”
“Massimo, you are sounding like an old woman again.”
“Promise me.” He grabbed Marcello’s arm and gave him a firm shake.
“I promise,” he agreed reluctantly, wondering if he could really keep his word.
Chapter Five
Marcello sat in a chair next to his bedroom looking out to the dark city. Usually the gentle slapping of the waves against the canals gave him a sense of calm, but tonight nothing could ease his troubled thoughts.
It had been one whole day since the ball and Caprice was still refusing to talk to either him or Massimo. Marcello had spent most of that time blaming himself for inviting Philippe-Auguste into their midst. Massimo had spent most of the time lecturing him.
Marcello let out a long sigh and adjusted himself into a more comfortable position. The chair was like the rest of the house, threadbare and old. The second and third sons of an impoverished noble man, they were upper class in name only. They didn’t even have the funds for servants, save for a lone elderly woman who cooked and cleaned for them.
Not that their father would have wasted the funds on them, even if he did have them for he had long made his disappointment in his youngest sons well-known. He had finally ordered them to the family home in
Venice a year ago. Marcello snorted softly in disgust. Father probably was hoping that his twin sons would succumb to the plague where he would finally rid himself of them.
Since they had arrived in Venice, he and Massimo had been struggling to survive. Even though their noble bloodline gave them a certain social status, it hadn’t paid their expenses and so, they had to make money where they could. A smile played on his lips. His desperation for coin had led him to Caprice. If he hadn’t agreed to model for her, he never would have met and fallen in love with her.
She had loved him, too, until he had made a mess of things. Would she ever forgive him? Probably. Caprice was one of the most caring and gentle people he knew. Nevertheless, it was unlikely she would forget and she sure was not going to trust him again soon. He had fully intended to formally introduce her to Philippe-Auguste at the ball, however, before he had a chance, he had found her in the arms of the Frenchman.
Philippe-Auguste was another problem as well. When Marcello’s thoughts weren’t on Caprice, they centered on the mysterious male. There was something dangerous and erotic about the man and Marcello could not help but be drawn to him. Despite his promise to Massimo, Marcello hoped his paths crossed soon with the Frenchman.
A loan figure stepped out of the shadows and stopped just under his window. Marcello smiled when he realized who it was. Philippe-Auguste! Stunned by the male’s sudden appearance, Marcello could only stare for several seconds. It wasn’t until his seducer gave him a small salute that Marcello jumped to attention. He waved back before he leaped from the chair, grabbed a lit candle and ran down the stairs, stopping only long enough to don a dressing gown to hide his nudity.
Tying the sash around his waist, he grabbed the doorknob, glad that Massimo and the old servant woman were out tonight. His hand shook as he opened the door and found Philippe-Auguste standing there. A hint of a smile grazed the man’s mouth and his glorious hair was free and flowed over his shoulders. Dressed in all black, including the cape that he threw over his shoulders, he gave off a dark aura that both thrilled and terrified Marcello.
“Invite me in,” Philippe-Auguste demanded, making no move to cross the threshold.
Marcello jumped, realizing he had been staring like some idiot and had forgotten all his manners. “Sorry,” he stammered before standing back and making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Please, come inside.”
A triumphant glimmer came over the male’s eyes so briefly that Marcello thought he may have imagined it. Philippe-Auguste stepped inside the house with a grace that would have been feminine with any other male.
Even standing in the middle of Marcello’s parlor, the other male seemed to dominate and take charge. Marcello suddenly became aware that he was very nude under the robe and he didn’t even have shoes on. He, also, realized that he was very alone with the Frenchman. Part of him was thrilled at the prospect of finally having Philippe-Auguste all to himself. Another part was wary because the man did have a dangerous aura about him that seemed to be screaming at Marcello to run in the opposite direction. “Would you like some wine?” Marcello asked politely.
“I would love some.” Philippe-Auguste gave him a tight-lipped smile. “The night has been very eventful and I am very thirsty.”
As Marcello led him through the house, he was painfully aware of how worn and threadbare all the furnishings were. Once, his family had boasted great wealth, but the fortune had slowly dwindled in the past generations until there was little left, but the title. Reaching the dim parlor, Marcello lit a lamp before pouring a glass of wine and handing it to the Frenchman.
“Thank you,” Philippe-Auguste said as he took it.
Their fingers brushed slightly and sparks of desire shot up Marcello’s arm.
“Why did you come here tonight?” Marcello nervously cleared his throat as he stepped back, one hand grabbing the knot of his sash in a protective gesture.
“Maybe I wanted to check on your well-being?” He sipped the wine, his strong throat working smoothing as he swallowed.
Marcello was quick to defend his twin. “Massimo may have been angry, but he would never harm me.”
“He seemed pretty furious. I don’t think I made a good first impression on him.”
“You’ll have to excuse him. Massimo was always looking out for me when we were growing up, taking all of Father’s harsh discipline and wrath, both my share of it and his. So he still tends to be overprotective of me.”
“Yes, I could see the overprotective part of him the other night.” Philippe-Auguste set his glass down on the scuffed wood mantle of the fireplace and took a couple of steps forward.
Marcello breathed in deep, savoring the dark dangerous scent of him. An alarming thought occurred to him. “How did you know where we lived?”
“I have my ways.” Again, the Frenchman gave that secretive smile.
“Why are you so interested in me anyhow?”
“Aren’t you full of questions tonight?” Philippe-Auguste chuckled as he started to slowly circle Marcello. “Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you? You have the warmest brown eyes I’ve ever encountered. The instant you looked at me with that caring, yet innocent gaze of yours, I knew I had to meet you.”
“I’m not that innocent.” Marcello shuddered in desire when the Frenchman trailed a hand up his arm. “I had my first female when I was just a youth in my early teen years.” For some reason, this comment made the Frenchman laugh.
“There is a lot in this world of which you have no knowledge.” Philippe-Auguste leaned in and spoke close to his ear. “Things I would love to show you. All you have to do is agree.”
“What kind of things?” Marcello could not hold back the moan of desire that slipped from his lips.
“That’s not how it works,” Philippe-Auguste chided as he leaned forward and nipped Marcello’s ear lobe. “You have to tell me you agree first.”
“Just like I had to formally invite you inside.” Marcello’s voice was thick with need as his cock grew hard and pushed against the opening of his robe. “You seem to have a lot of rules.”
“Tell me you agree,” Philippe-Auguste crooned in an almost hypnotic voice. He took Marcello’s earlobe back in between his front teeth and tugged again.
“I agree.” Marcello sucked in a breath as his cock grew even harder, now completely jutting out of the front of his robe, almost as if it were waving.
“That wasn’t too difficult was it?” Philippe-Auguste asked. This time there was no mistaking the triumphant glee in his brown eyes. A shot of fear hit Marcello in the chest as he once again felt the chilling sense of peril just being near this man. Then Philippe-Auguste wrapped his hand around Marcello’s cock and all thoughts, save for lust, drifted away.
“Where is your brother?” the Frenchman asked as he gave a gentle squeeze.
“He’s out for the evening.” Marcello closed his eyes and let out a moan as Philippe-Auguste began to pump his hand up and down.
“So that means we are all alone?” He opened his fist and began to trail his fingers up and down the length of Marcello’s erection.
“Yes, it’s just us here,” Marcello admitted as a fine sheen of sweat broke out over his forehead.
“Does that frighten you?” One finger slowly trailed up the tender underside of Marcello’s cock.
Marcello shook his head as he rocked his hips forward into the man’s touch.
“It should frighten you.” Philippe-Auguste dropped to his knees, his face level with Marcello’s pelvis. “It should frighten you very much.”
Before Marcello could think on his words, Philippe-Auguste leaned forward and took his cock in his mouth. Marcello nearly yelled with desire as sweet, wet heat enveloped him from root to tip. No one had ever been able to take all of his thick length in at once and yet Philippe-Auguste managed it as if it were nothing. Pulling back slowly, inch by inch, he sucked in so hard, Marcello felt his knees grow week. “I’m going to fall,” he cried as his cock pulled out from between th
e man’s lips with a loud pop.
“No, you won’t fall. You will stand there and take it.” Philippe-Auguste gave him a simmering look that was one of pure domination. “I want to you take mind of how it’s done as well. Someday soon, it will be you who is on his knees.”
“I promise, I will,” Marcello chanted as Philippe-Auguste started to suck him again. He would, too, his mouth watered with the need to know what the Frenchman tasted like. How heady it would be to have control of Philippe-Auguste’s pleasure.
He had the urge to fist his hands in the man’s light hair, but did not dare. He sensed that Philippe-Auguste wouldn’t even allow him that much control of their encounter. Instead, he dropped them to his sides and concentrated on keeping his knees from buckling out from under him.
The Frenchman used his tongue, lips and fingers to bring Marcello to the brink. A couple of times, there was something sharp. It possibly was his teeth, but as soon as that brief bit of pain registered, a velvet caress soothed it away.
“Yes, like that,” Marcello panted as he fought the impulse to thrust forward into Philippe-Auguste’s face.
The pleasure built until Marcello came in a blinding explosion. As his seed shot from his cock, he tried to pull back, but Philippe-Auguste grabbed his hips with a growl and held him in place. Panting, Marcello gazed down at the man as he eagerly drank in his semen. When Philippe-Auguste drained him, he released Marcello’s limp cock and stood. “Please,” Marcello said although he had no idea what he was begging for or why.
Philippe-Auguste reached for the sash of Marcello’s robe.
Excitement, fear, anxiety and desire all battled for supremacy inside Marcello as he realized the Frenchman was going to fuck him. Even though it should have been impossible so soon after his previous orgasm, he felt his cock grow hard again in anticipation.
Just as he was working the knot free, Philippe-Auguste jerked his head up in alarm. A low snarl rumbled in the Frenchman’s chest.
For Marcello, it was unlike anything he had heard any man make before. It was almost like a caged beast. Even though it should have terrified him, it only made Marcello want him more.