The Madmen of Beldon Hall

by K. Sterling

  “I think you were always meant to come to Beldon, so I could find you,” he said as he rose on his knees and kissed Byron.

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” Byron sighed as he sucked and nibbled on his lip.

  Alastair kissed him until he became ravenous then sat on his heels and gripped and slowly parted Byron’s thighs. The journal slipped from his fingers before they pushed through Alastair’s hair and he moaned softly as he shifted, offering himself. Alastair shut his eyes and breathed him in as his lips skated along the inside of his thigh and the muscle quivered. He smelled like sex, soap and warm skin and Alastair was intoxicated as his nose and lips pushed into his sack. It had only been a few hours since he tasted the tender, puckered flesh around his hole and licked the come from his skin but he needed him like he needed his next breath.

  “I can taste you in my dreams now,” he whispered as his lips glided up Byron’s shaft. He adored the hard, smooth heat against his lips and purred as they swirled around the head. “I wake up starving,” he murmured and Byron whimpered his name as he sucked. He took him deep in his throat and his lips burned as they stretched around his shaft. A sweet burst of pre-cum washed over his tongue and Alastair’s mouth watered as his head rose and fell slowly, making Byron shake and curse as he writhed in the chair. Alastair’s lips slid up his cock and he growled in delight as he sucked at the end and another drop of slick sweetness burst on his tongue. He teased the slit then grinned wickedly as he rubbed the head along his jaw, letting it graze his beard.

  “Oh, God,” Byron shivered as his hands locked around the arms of the chair. Alastair hummed in agreement as he tilted his head to the side and sucked his way down his length. He lapped at his sack and cherished the euphoric moans and gasps that poured from Byron as his legs kicked and stretched restlessly. Alastair sat back and pulled Byron lower then tilted his hips back before pushing his face into the cleft of his ass. “Yes!” Byron cried as his back arched and his legs wound around his neck.

  Alastair was in heaven as he hugged his thighs tighter around his head and lost himself in the warm sweetness of Byron’s ass. Somehow, he tasted bright, like lemons and soap and there was a hint of lube and the slight bitterness of a condom. Alastair sucked and lapped wildly, feasting on Byron’s flesh and strained curses as he tried to ride his tongue. Byron begged and pulled at Alastair’s hair. Some of his suggestions were quite extreme.

  “Jesus. Just spit in my mouth and donkey punch me!” He sobbed and Alastair had to catch his breath and it hurt, the effort it took to keep from laughing.

  “Another time, possibly,” he ground out as he wrapped his hand around Byron’s cock and stroked firmly. He’d have to consult the internet on that one. “I just want this,” he said then licked at the head greedily as Byron twisted and jumped in the chair. His knuckles where white as his nails dug into the leather and his skin glistened with sweat in the firelight. Alastair could feel the tension tightening Byron’s muscles as his breath came in frantic gasps. Sex had never sounded as beautiful as it did with Byron. Every moan, pant, whimper and curse made the hair on Alastair’s arms stand and made him sweat just a little more.

  “Alastair!”

  Nothing could ever sound more heartbreakingly perfect than that. Alastair shut his eyes and felt it spill down his spine. It was warm honey and made his limbs heavier and his heart throbbed as his lips closed around the head of Byron’s shaft. He sucked just as Byron’s head fell back and his chest locked. His cock pulsed and his body jumped as he pulled in a shuddering breath. The first rush of come felt like a tidal wave. Love and joy crashed into Alastair as he swallowed quickly, not wanting to lose a drop of Byron’s release. He drank until Byron was completely shattered and drained then stretched toward his lips.

  “I think that should hold me for a while,” my whispered as he pecked at Byron’s lips and he groaned as his fingers twisted in Alastair’s hair. His tongue swept through Alastair’s mouth and he moaned in delight at the taste of his come on Alastair’s tongue.

  “What about you?” He asked as he pressed his forehead to Alastair’s.

  “I got what I wanted,” he said then nipped at his lips before he jumped to his feet. Alastair stepped back and trapped Byron’s gaze as he gripped his hard-on through his grey sweatpants. “This can wait until you’re ready to come to bed,” he added and Byron’s eyes glazed over as he licked his lips. Alastair clenched his jaw to keep from laughing as he turned and headed back to bed. He had a feeling Byron would be calling it a night soon.

  Chapter 25

  “What are you doing, Byron?” Alastair mumbled as his hand reached across the bed. Byron looked up from his notebook and turned the lamp up just a touch so he could see his face. His neck craned as he waited and Alastair’s lips curved.

  “Looks like a good dream,” Byron said under his breath then turned the light back down and huddled over the journal he was rushing to finish. He’d hoped to be asleep by 2:00 but it was just after 4:00 and the sky was getting lighter.

  Byron’s mind wandered to Alastair’s dream and he silently scolded himself as he ground the heel of his palm into his eye as his vision blurred. He was translating faster than his brain could comprehend because he needed to get Alastair out of Beldon as quickly as possible. Every time Alastair had a nightmare or his eyes drifted to the window at the top of the stairs, Byron’s heart ached a little more and felt a little heavier. His conscience was burning a hole in his soul every time he thought about the hell Alastair endured and how much it was costing him to remain at Beldon.

  But as much as Byron hated Beldon Hall for the pain it inflicted on Alastair, his heart sank at the thought of leaving. The moments they shared in the cellars, teasing and laughing as they passed the hours were precious. And the mornings in the bathroom were the happiest of Byron’s life. He couldn’t get his brain around the sex. Things happened to his body and his body did things that didn’t seem natural or possible or even ethical, on occasion… He just didn’t know what to do with that mentally or emotionally. He’d never experienced anything close to the connection he felt with Alastair and he didn’t know what he’d do once he was done copying, translating and photographing Bede’s journals.

  He could have stayed at Beldon with Alastair forever. It was the eeriest, saddest place he’d ever had the misfortune of setting foot in but part of him would always love it because it was just his and Alastair’s for a while.

  “He’s miserable here,” Byron reminded himself then nodded resolutely and went back to work.

  Chapter 26

  “What’s Bede up to today?” Alastair mumbled drowsily as he slid his arm around Byron’s waist and rubbed his lips up and down his spine.

  “Something about his going hence and what for his spirit,” Byron said distractedly as he scribbled in one of his many composition notebooks. He was filling two or three a day. He was writing each night, when Alastair fell asleep and he was writing when he woke up in the morning.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” Alastair asked as he sat up and pulled Byron onto his lap. He nodded as his hand curved around Alastair’s thigh but he was still reading.

  “I got a few hours,” he murmured as he reached for his notebook and Alastair pulled it from his fingers and tossed it on the floor next to the bed. “I’m almost finished with this journal,” Byron complained and Alastair hummed in agreement as he carefully pried the journal from his fingers and set it aside.

  “And you can finish with it after I’ve finished with you,” he growled as his lips glided along Byron’s shoulder and up his neck. “You’re working too hard,” he scolded and Byron hissed as Alastair’s hands pushed beneath the waist of his boxers then slid them over his hips.

  “It took us weeks to find them, I want to get them copied as quickly as I can so we can leave,” he said shakily as Alastair shifted beneath him so his cock rested in the cleft of his ass.

  “You’re already tired of m
e?” He said as he reached for a condom and Byron shook his head quickly.

  “No, I could never get tired of this,” he whispered then shivered as Alastair’s tongue traced the curve of his ear. A warm rush of joy and love washed through Alastair and the words tickled his lips and made them tingle. He wanted so badly to say them, he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life to say them to just one person.

  “Come home with me when we’re done here.” He squeezed his eyes shut and swore silently. It was so much easier than I love you and I don’t think I can ever let you go. He called himself every name he could think of as he quickly rolled the condom down his shaft then coated it with lube.

  “I’ll have a lot of work to do but I wouldn’t mind setting up my office at your place for a while,” Byron said then gasped as Alastair lifted him and slowly pushed into his tight heat.

  “For a while?” Alastair repeated then bit back a groan as Byron’s ass lowered until it was resting on his lap. He was so, so tight and hot as his passage gripped Alastair’s cock.

  “As long as you want,” Byron sighed as his head fell back on Alastair’s shoulder. His fingers pushed into Alastair’s hair and he moaned rapturously as he rocked his hips. Forever.

  “Good,” he growled as his hands slid down Byron’s chest then wrapped around his erection. He kept his grip firm and stroked slowly as Byron rolled his hips, grinding his prostate against the base of Alastair cock. Dear God, he wanted Byron in ways he never imagined. The nightmares were being replaced with dreams of indescribable carnal delight but they were never as catastrophically sensual or graphic as reality. Byron was brilliant, funny, kind, generous, beautiful and gloriously uninhibited. He was perfect. Alastair wanted to give him everything and make him the center of his world but he was frightened by the intensity of his feelings. Would they morph into madness and violence? He couldn’t stand the idea of making Byron a prisoner, like his mother. He’d never forgive himself if he slowly strangled the curiosity and laughter from Byron and turned him into a hopeless, empty shell. “Come home with me,” he whispered and prayed he’d have the strength to let Byron go if the curse caught up with him. Then, he shut his eyes and lost himself in the exquisite bliss of Byron’s body.

  Chapter 27

  “I’m going to go work for a little while,” Byron said then sucked on Alastair’s earlobe. He tried to pull away but Alastair’s arm locked around him.

  “Don’t go yet,” he complained as he cradled Byron’s head against his chest. “I want to hold you for a while,” he said and Byron bit his lip to keep from laughing as a ripple of ecstatic joy spilled through him.

  “Not too long, I don’t want to get drowsy,” he said but it didn’t stop Alastair’s fingers from sliding through Byron’s hair and massaging his scalp.

  “I want to fall asleep holding you,” he said and Byron pouted sympathetically.

  “I want to stay but I have to finish,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against Alastair’s chest. He was completely fucked out and it would have been heaven to stay draped across Alastair but he’d never finish if he kept getting distracted. His eyes started to feel heavy so he decided to keep Alastair talking. And it seemed like a good time… “Tell me about the dreams,” he asked gently and he felt Alastair’s chest lock and his fingers stopped. He swallowed hard and his fingers pulled through Byron’s hair soothingly again.

  “My nurse was one of the most spiteful women I’ve ever met. She hated my father and she hated me for being his son. I was terrified of storms and she knew I couldn’t sleep. She’d come to my room to check on me and she’d tell me about Martha Reilly.” He released a long, shuttering breath and Byron whispered his name as he kissed his skin.

  “Who was she?” He asked as he tightened his arm around Alastair.

  “She was a maid here at Beldon and my grandfather forced himself on her almost every day. When she became pregnant he had the housekeeper fire her. She was told she had the night to pack her belongings and to be out the next morning. When the staff came downstairs to work, they found Martha hanging from the banister there, above the window,” he said as his hand waved toward the stairs. Byron hissed as he squeezed his eyes shut.

  “She must have been destroyed. She would have had no prospects, no one would help her,” he said and he felt Alastair nod.

  “He ruined her,” he agreed. Byron’s face twisted in disgust as he looked up at Alastair.

  “Why would your nurse want to work here if she hated your father? Why would he hire someone so fucking terrible?” He asked and Alastair snorted.

  “She was his nurse too. I think he hated her so much, he wanted to keep her here so he could make her life miserable. And he probably enjoyed the fact that I was being exposed to the same cruelty he experienced,” he said and Byron stared at him in shock.

  “Whyyyyy did she stay?” He asked and Alastair sighed.

  “I overheard the housekeeper, Miss Culbert, tell the cook she always suspected that my grandfather had his way with Nurse Thatcher as well,” he said and Byron groaned.

  “So she had a reason to hate him and her reputation was shaky,” he stated and Alastair shrugged.

  “It couldn’t have been good to begin with, no respectable nurse would choose to come to Waldeford. It was one thing to be from here, like most of the staff, Beldon was the only option for a lot of people. But nurses are only as good as their references, Waldeford would not be a feather in her cap, professionally. Not that it justifies my grandfather’s behavior. She was just a shit nurse when she arrived.”

  “Why did she choose to tell you about Martha Reilly? Did she know her?” Byron asked.

  “I have no idea if she knew her. I suspect she wanted to beat it into my head, what my grandfather had done, as a warning or to scar me. Perhaps to keep me from doing the same. I was just as relieved to be free of her as I was my father when I left for school,” he said. “She told me the spirits of children couldn’t travel through doors, so they’d scratch until you opened them. She said Martha’s baby and the spirits of all the children my ancestors murdered haunted Beldon, that I’d haunt Beldon if my father murdered me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Alastair. Why didn’t you tell someone?” Byron asked and Alastair shook his head.

  “Do you understand how British people work?” He replied and Byron growled in frustration as he pushed away from Alastair and sat up.

  “This is not a situation where you keep a stiff upper lip, this is child abuse,” he argued as he reached for his pajama pants and Alastair exhaled loudly as he propped his head up with his hand.

  “My father knew and there wasn’t a soul in all of England who was going to question an earl about how he was raising his son. Especially if that earl was my father. It’s taken my entire life to rehabilitate my reputation and my only scandal has been my name.” He looked tired. Byron groaned in frustration as he set his knee on the bed and stretched toward Alastair’s lips. He wanted to stay and hold him so he could make sure he didn’t suffer another nightmare alone.

  “I have to get back to work, the sooner we can leave, the better,” he stated but Alastair looked concerned as he searched his eyes.

  “Don’t stay up too late,” he said firmly and Byron nodded.

  “I won’t,” he lied.

  Chapter 28

  “Do you remember seeing anything regarding the receipt of the Latour? I’d like to take as much of it back with me as I can,” Alastair said as he walked into the hall with a tea tray and Byron shook his head as he wrote in his notebook.

  “No but I’d be surprised if there’s any left, you’ve been drunk the entire time we’ve been here,” he said and Alastair smiled dreamily.

  “It’s lovely wine, isn’t it? I’m certain I saw two more cases but I’d like to make sure there isn’t more,” he said and Byron’s nose wrinkled.

  “Your liver, though,” he pointed out and Alastair rolled his eyes and waved dismissively.

  “Let
me enjoy the one good and decent thing my father left for me. He had impeccable taste in wine,” he said and Byron threw his hands up then pushed his chair back.

  “It might be in the butler’s quarters,” he said as he stood and Alastair groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I was hoping we could avoid that. I’ve never liked being down there,” he admitted and Byron nodded.

  “It’s creepy as fuck,” he said as he reached for his cardigan and waited for Alastair to pull on his coat. “Why are they down there?” He asked as he took a lamp and a flashlight. Alastair decided one lamp would be enough and grabbed his flashlight. They wouldn’t be down there for long, it wasn’t very big.

  “The butler’s quarters used to be on the other side of the service courtyard but it burned down in the 50’s. Part of the foundation’s still there. A small portion of the cellars was converted, instead of rebuilding on the old site. I don’t understand why Keller put up with it. Probably for the privacy, he was really odd,” he explained as they stepped out onto the courtyard then crossed to a smaller wooden door next to the cellar entrance.

  “He wasn’t from here, I remember reading something in the housekeeper’s journal about not being able to find any next of kin when he died. His previous employers couldn’t be contacted,” Byron recalled and Alastair’s head pulled back.

  “That’s odd,” he said then shrugged before he pushed the door open. “I’ll go first.” He pointed his flashlight down the stairs then winced as they sagged. “Stay a few steps behind me, just in case,” he warned as he carefully negotiated the first two steps then shined his light around the room below them. Keller died just a few months before his father and was the last butler at Beldon. The room was almost exactly as he left it.