by Myles, Eden
“A little tincture I pick up in Chinatown.”
“Will it hurt…I mean, really hurt?”
Malcolm kissed the shell of Devon’s ear and said, “Nothing I do will ever hurt you, pet. I promise you that.”
“I know, Malcolm, I know,” Devon answered and lifted his bottom a little as Malcolm began slicking his lower belly, perineum and then his opening with the minty oil. Within seconds it began to burn, but not unpleasantly. Malcolm slipped a finger inside him, then two. Devon arched his back against the burning and the stretching, and Malcolm immediately slid two more up his ass so Devon began making those mewling noises again and thrusting his pelvis against Malcolm’s body, inviting him to take him, and soon.
Malcolm licked his courtier’s lips and chin as he worked him wider. Devon’s swollen cock bumped him and he knew he was near to bursting. Lifting Devon easily, he worked his cock inside him, letting gravity and Devon’s weight pull him down upon his thick shaft. Devon grunted and his fingers clawed the front of his gentleman’s jacket as he took more of Malcolm than he ever had before. Malcolm seated himself slowly inside Devon’s slick, eager hole until Devon was fully sitting in his lap once more with his gentleman buried balls deep inside him.
Devon’s face had flushed. Malcolm began by saying, “Devon…” but his courtier cut him off mid-sentence.
“Just do me,” he said, gasping through the pleasure and the pain. “I can’t stand that you’re just sitting there, gov. Fuck me hard. Fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked anyone in your life.”
Malcolm began to move inside him, slowly at first but with an increasing, grinding rhythm that soon had Devon groaning, crying out, and rocking against Malcolm’s body as Malcolm touched him deeper and deeper inside. He bucked sharply near the end, lost in a reverie of lust and emotion, and Devon screamed his release into Malcolm’s shirt as they came at the same moment, as one.
* * *
On that very special Christmas Day ten years later, Malcolm took Devon to the Royal, a favorite spot among the Society. It had good wine, better food, and it was owned by a pair of brothers who were also members of the Society, so they were able to get a private room off the main dining area.
Malcolm spared no expense. He ordered champagne, caviar, oysters, lobster for them both, and black pudding for Devon. In the nearly ten years of their relationship, he had been unsuccessful in breaking Devon of some of his more disturbing British culinary habits. For dessert they had bread pudding, crème brulee, and a chocolate rum cake, heavy on the rum.
Afterward, Malcolm slid his Christmas gift over to Devon, wrapped in a love letter he had hand-written on parchment with a quill. It was a two-week vacation in a Cuban resort that they would have all to themselves. Devon looked over their travel plans with great enthusiasm. He had wanted to see Cuba for some time. He read the letter that Malcolm had written, all the things Malcolm felt, and nearly wept. Then he slid his own modest, foil-wrapped box over to Malcolm.
Malcolm opened it carefully to reveal a new, fine leather wallet from Brooks Brothers. “To replace the one I stole,” Devon admitted sheepishly. That night, over ten years ago, Malcolm had recovered his most important things and his money, but Devon the teenaged pickpocket had thrown his wallet into the East River.
“Really, Devon,” Malcolm said and slid his big hand over Devon’s slim one. He brought Devon’s fingers to his lips to kiss.
“Open it, gov,” Devon said with a teasing smile.
Malcolm did, anticipating a gift card to a men’s boutique or maybe a health club. Devon was sweet but practical in his gifts. Four years ago, when Malcolm complained about gaining an unexpected ten pounds from having too little time to exercise, Devon had bought them two West Highland White terrier pups so they could walk the dogs in Central Park in the morning.
This time he found the ring, a thick gold band dotted with small diamonds and one large, flawless white diamond in the center. Malcolm looked at it blankly for a moment as he processed the information. Devon felt his spirits slowly sink. If Malcolm had to look at the engagement ring like that, then something was wrong, very wrong.
Had he moved too fast? But they had been together almost ten years. Surely ten years was enough to know if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone you loved? Maybe Malcolm didn’t want to marry. He never spoke of it, almost as though he feared he’d jinx their relationship if he did.
“Malcolm?” Devon felt his heart trip and then start thumping with disconcerting pressure against his ribs. He wondered if he was on the verge of having a panic attack. He knew he should say more, propose properly, maybe even get down on one knee or something, but he was at a loss as to what to do. Suddenly he felt like a fool, a damned fool for giving Malcolm the ring.
Malcolm continued to stare at the ring in his palm. Then he moved his other hand to his face and covered his eyes. It took Devon a moment to realize Malcolm was fighting back tears.
He had never seen Malcolm cry before. He wasn’t sure the man was even capable of it. “Malcolm?” Devon said, frightened now as he partially stood up.
And then Malcolm looked up and smiled. “Yes, Devon. I’ll marry you. Of course I will.”
Devon froze as he felt his heart lighten, bloom…fly away. There was no other way to describe it. He started reaching for his cell phone, to tell his girls, his family, the good news, but Malcolm stopped him. He took Devon by the wrist and guided him around the table. Devon climbed into his fiancé’s lap and Malcolm palmed his cheek as they shared a quiet, passionate kiss. Then he tucked Devon’s head under his chin and just held him so fiercely that Devon could barely breathe.
“We need to visit Evelyn and Rachaela…oh, and I need to tell Daniel too. We need to tell everyone we know,” Devon insisted. For the first time in his life, he was really happy. “Or we can wait until tonight, until the Society meets up.”
“Just stay with me like this for a moment, Tweety Bird,” Malcolm said, holding him close. There were tears in his voice. “I have everything I want right here.”
* * *
About the Authors
Eden Myles lives in the rural northeast with her family and two demanding cats. She is a vixen with a laptop and the head whip-cracker at Courtesan Press. She writes for The Dollhouse Society Series and Blackstone Hall.
Jay Ellison lives in the big city with his partner and several rescue dogs. He writes m/m romantic erotica and is the author of The Dollhouse Society Series and The Wolves of Wall Street.
Madeline Apple is a mysterious soul who is known to write under many other names. She writes for Blackstone Hall and Fifty Shades of Fairy Tales.
* * *
Love what you’ve read so far?
Read an excerpt from The Cowboy Way (Elegant Little Bites #1) by M.J. Sellers:
“Daddy! Mr. Jesse was a clown, did you know that?” Chloe, one of my star pupils at the Circleville Ranch, called as her father ambled toward her across the therapy corral.
I smiled at her enthusiasm, then told her to ease up on Mystic’s reigns. Mystic’s gait immediately evened out. When I called her back, Chloe expertly turned the horse around and trotted him back just in time for me to help her down off her mount.
“You did great, Chloe. I’m super proud of you, kiddo!” I said, giving her back her braces.
Chloe was all wide smiles as she joined her father. She started babbling on about the brand new discovery she’d made about me today, which embarrassed the hell out of me and made me kick some stones around nervously.
Part of my nervousness was being in the presence of a power suit like Alaric Dunhill, CEO of the Dunhill Financial Group, one of the biggest fish in the fishpond called New York City. The other part was more elemental: Dunhill was smoking hot.
He was tall and slim and looked like a New York model in his white polo shirt and snug khaki trousers. His dark hair was slicked back over the tips of his ears, and he had the darkest green eyes I’d ever seen. His goatee was carefully trimmed an
d his lips full and kissable. I usually liked my guys a little beefier, but there was something about the way Mr. Dunhill lifted and twirled his daughter, the strength of muscle in his arms and his laughter at her delight, that drew me to him. Not that I believed one of the most eligible billionaires in New York would ever deem to look my way, because, duh, I was nothing but a flea in Dunhill’s universe.
I’d also heard stories. That he was shady. That the FBI was watching him. Jeannie—my gossip-addicted partner on the ranch who loved to talk about our more high-profile clients—called him a Park Avenue gangster in a nice Brioni business suit. She said he was a cutthroat who’d no sooner use you than toss you aside. But, damn, if bad boys hadn’t always been my weakness.
Even though Dunhill was one of the richest men in New York, he generally stayed out of the public eye. Something to do with bad business dealings, Jeannie said, though I had a different theory. I figured it had to do with the fact that he’d married his business partner when gay marriage became legal a few years ago, but then divorced him soon afterward.
Another victim chewed up and spat out by the man? I wasn’t sure, but it made me curious as hell.
“What’s all this about a clown?” Mr. Dunhill laughed, gently setting Chloe down on her feet.
“Chloe discovered my costume in the barn. I guess the gig is up,” I said, laughing and tilting my straw cowboy hat back on my head. “I used to work as a rodeo clown back in the day.”
“A clown?” Dunhill said, lifting one arched eyebrow as if he were dubious of my claim.
“It’s not what you think,” I quickly explained. “I didn’t do entertainment like you see clowns do, rubber chickens and exploding garbage cans. I did bullfighting.”
When I saw he still didn’t understand, I quickly added, “I provided an alternative target for the bull to attack when the rider was bucked off.”
Dunhill’s eyebrow arched up a little higher, which was hard to interpret. Either he thought I was lying or he was mildly impressed.
“Do you still do it?” Chloe asked.
“Not anymore. Brahma bull shattered my jaw and broke my neck,” I confessed, and Chloe made a distressed face, so I bent down and chucked her under the chin. “Couldn’t walk for almost a year.”
“But you ride so well now, Mr. Jesse!”
“That’s because I was like you. I wasn’t afraid to get back in the saddle.”
“Me either,” Chloe said with a brave look.
She was eleven and had been an avid horseperson up until a few years ago, when she’d been in a bad car accident that shattered both her legs. The doctors said she would never walk again, but so far, Chloe was beating the odds. Her dad had enrolled her in PATH, the Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, and they’d sent her our way. She’d been part of our classes for six months now and I was seeing some major improvements.
“Could I be a rodeo clown for Halloween this year?” Chloe asked, turning toward her dad.
Dunhill smirked. I noticed he only ever smiled where Chloe was concerned. “I don’t see why not, baby. Maybe Mr. Jesse could give you some tips.”
“Cool.”
I tipped my hat at her.
Dunhill put his hand on her shoulder. “Nanny said she’d get you some ice cream.”
“That sounds good,” Chloe said and ambled off with her braces and a little effort toward Mr. Dunhill’s car parked in the driveway.
After she was gone, Dunhill gave me a serious look. “Is that true, about being a rodeo clown, or are you just saying that to impress Chloe? You seem awful young to have been through so much.”
“Scout’s honor. Rather, cowboy’s honor. I grew up on the circuit. My grandparents were in the rodeo, and my mom was a trick-rider.”
Dunhill considered that, nodding. He looked me up and down, his expression unreadable. “Is she improving at all?” he asked, switching the conversation back over to his daughter and leaving me feeling a little off guard.
I hooked my thumbs in my belt. “I think so. We’re doing a full range of exercises and she’s kept up, no problem.”
Now I felt more than a twinge of nervousness. That was the type of question clients usually asked just before they pulled their child out of therapy. Considering our mounting ranch bills, and our dwindling classes, I couldn’t afford to lose Mr. Dunhill’s patronage.
Even though I found myself sweating under his scrutiny, I told him what I’d told so many other clients before him. “If you’re thinking about more traditional physical therapy classes, exercise machines only focus on one muscle group at a time, and they don’t use natural body movements like our horses. Riding forces the patient to use their entire body to steer, control and maintain balance on a horse.” I knew it sounded like a pitch, but it was the truth. I knew from firsthand experience. After that Brahma had broken my neck, I’d taken the same classes as Chloe.
He must have recognized my panic. “Don’t worry. I’m not pulling Chloe from class,” he said, indicating the therapy corral. “But I was wondering if you offered regular horseback riding lessons? I just bought a couple of trail-riding horses for me and Chloe, but I don’t know the first thing about riding.”
“I’ll get you mounted and riding in no time,” I blurted out much too fast, then regretted it. It sounded like some cheesy pickup line. I tilted my head down, letting my hat hide any blush that might be lurking in the apples of my cheeks. “I mean, I have no problem giving adult lessons.”
Dunhill smirked. “Excellent.” He whipped out a checkbook and ran me off an advance check like it was nothing.
I had to double check to make sure I was seeing what I was seeing. It seemed like a couple too many zeroes, not that I was complaining. He handed me his business card. When our hands touched, I felt a spark like Mr. Dunhill was conducting an electrical charge. “I want to see you at one o’clock on Saturday for our first lesson.” He gave me a poignant look with those jade-green eyes. “Don’t be late. In fact, come early.”
“I’ll come as early as you like,” I told him.
“Good.” Mr. Dunhill smirked with one corner of his mouth. “I prefer guys that come when I tell them to.”
Then he walked away, leaving Mystic and me gaping after him like idiots.
* * *
Available everywhere ebooks are sold, including Amazon.com, BN.com, Smashwords.com and Kobobooks.com. Select titles are available at AllRomanceEbooks.com and Bookstrand.com.
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* * *
Available from Courtesan Press:
Indecent Proposal
Dreams in Black & White
Playing House
Freeze Frame
The Dollhouse Society Volume I: Evelyn
The Rules of Engagement
Big, Bad Wolf
The War of the Roses
The Dollhouse Society Volume II: Rachaela
Eyes Wide Open
Touch
Teacher’s Pet
Angel in the Dark
The Dollhouse Society Volume III: Daniel
Lady Luck
House of Dolls
The Reluctant Bride
A Woman on Top
The Dollhouse Society Volume IV: Lucky
All I Want for Christmas: A Dollhouse Society One Shot
Red (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
Puss ‘N Books (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
Snow (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
The Little Mermaid (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
50 Shades of Fairy Tales: Courtesan Press Collection No. 1
50 Shades of Fairy Tales: Volume I
The Beauty of the Beast (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
Rumpelstiltskin (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
Cinderfella (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
Beauty’s Sleep (50 Shades of Fairy Tales)
50 Shades
of Fairy Tales Volume II
50 Shades of Fairy Tales: Courtesan Press Collection No. 2
50 Shades of Fairy Tales Volume III
The Dollhouse Society: Margo
The Dollhouse Society: Felix
The Dollhouse Society: Bad Girls
Blood & Lace (Blackstone Hall #1)
50 Shades of Fairy Tales (Courtesan Press Ultimate Collection)
Devices & Desires (Blackstone Hall #2)
Blackstone Hall, Volume I
The Dollhouse Society: Isabelle
The Dollhouse Society: Teachers’ Pets
The Dollhouse Society Omnibus Collection Volume I
The Dollhouse Society Omnibus Collection Volume II
The Dollhouse Society: Charlotte
The Dollhouse Society: Stefan
Cry Wolf (The Wolves of Wall Street #1)
Lone Wolf (The Wolves of Wall Street #2)
Manlove & Menage: 10 Books in One
Dark Wolf (The Wolves of Wall Street #3)
The Dollhouse Society Ultimate Boxset
Alphas: Rogues & Gentlemen
The Cowboy Way (Elegant Little Bites #1)
Alphas: Rakes & Shifters
Mephisto’s Waltz (Elegant Little Bites #2)
* * *
Courtesan Press titles are available everywhere ebooks are sold, including Amazon.com, BN.com, Smashwords.com and Kobobooks.com. Select titles are available at AllRomanceEbooks.com and Bookstrand.com.
Sign up for alerts on new books at:
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