[Siren Allure ManLove: Erotic Alternative Historical Romance, M/M, voyeurism, public exhibition, orgies, sex toys, HEA]
Perry Sinclair’s grand tour of Europe is not going entirely to plan. He loses his bear-leader, his valet, and his friend in quick succession, and finds himself alone in Venice. In the midst of the gaiety and excesses of Venetian Carnevale, Perry meets a fellow Englishman, known only as Jack. Jack introduces Perry to a group of gentlemen who indulge in a variety of sexual activities while hiding their identity behind Carnevale masks. Shocked and yet delighted, Perry flings himself headlong into such pleasure, falling deeply in love with Jack as he does so.
Jack Fitzwarren does not fall in love. He certainly does not fall in love with English tourists. But despite Jack’s best efforts, Perry’s artless enthusiasm and unquestioning trust begin to find a way through all of his defences, allowing Jack almost to forget the secret he carries with him, the one that means he can never confess to Perry who he really is.
A Siren Erotic Romance
5 SWEET PEAS: "Perry attends Carnevale with the intention of watching, perhaps more? He loses his companions and finds himself alone on a sketchy street. Wearing his own very fancy mask Perry is approached by Jack, who brings relatively innocent Perry to a house of debauchery where he is introduced to many of his favorite fantasies in the flesh. Perry has a wonderful time and finds himself falling in love with the mysterious Jack, whom he only knows in this disguised persona. What he doesn’t know is Jack has a dark secret, a past which keeps him from developing relationships with anyone. Is his past true or a sham? When Perry discovers the truth will Jack be able to allow Perry into his life? Wonderful story, extremely sexy, with just enough mystery and angst to keep you reading non-stop. I couldn’t put it down. This was my first book by Joy Lynn Fielding but it won’t be my last by any means. Definitely will be reading the next in this series." -- Becky Condit, Mrs. Condit and Friends Read Books
5 STARS: "Joy Lynn Fielding's descriptions are beautifully evocative, making your nostrils flare at the scent of the sewers and the whiff of a man's expensive cologne. Your eyes greedily devour the page as she richly details the bewitching scenery of Venice and the grandeur and the magnificence of a place and time without boundaries. Peregrine 'Perry' Sinclair is something of an innocent in the lair of those far more worldly and sexually aware than he is. Perry finds himself in Venice, on his tour of Europe, abandoned by his valet, his "chaperone" and the man of his dreams. He decides to try and find his own excitement and finds himself being catapulted--literally--into the very willing arms of Jack Fitzwarren. Jaded, bored, and set adrift from his own country by events that spiraled out of his control, Jack is delighted to find a young, innocent and extremely personable man in his arms. And that is where Perry's education and his slow inauguration into the delights of the flesh and the never ending pursuit of sexual pleasure begins. Jack is a willing teacher and Perry, a very willing pupil. Until the two men begin to realize that they have feelings for each other which far outweigh the needs of the body and the ever rampant sexual need. There is a lot to choose from in the book to please even the most discerning of readers who enjoy this genre. Sexy scenes of ménage, sexual toy play, orgies, burgeoning emotional development and angst as these two men find out what they actually mean to each other, all set in the wonderful backdrop of Venice. This is a book of excesses, of men's physical pleasure being paramount and then suddenly, creeping up like the fog over the Grand Canal is the feeling of emotional love and affection and the knowledge that perhaps no man is an island. I loved Perry's innocence, his humanity and the way he grows as a man in this story as Perry falls in love with the mysterious Jack,a man with a terrible secret. One that Jack fears, if known, would make him lose Perry forever. And that is something he cannot allow. Beautifully written in the period, this is an ornate tapestry weaving story of men falling in love, of realizing their humanity and their frailties and their strengths. This is a definite recommended read and I can't wait to read the next in Jack and Perry's story." -- Susan Mac Nicol, The Romance Reviews
Perry’s breath was driven from his lungs, for the gentleman into whom he had just crashed was very solid. Unlike everyone else in this crowd, he was standing completely still, with the crowd appearing to break around him, like water. Everyone except Perry, of course, as might have been foretold by anyone who knew him.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, once he had regained his breath. And then remembered he wasn’t in England. “Scusi, Signor Maschera,” he tried instead.
The gentleman was the first person Perry had so far seen whose mask was very slight, covering only the face around his eyes. This meant it was easy to see the fierce frown he levelled at Perry, evidently damning him for the clumsy fool he was. It also meant, however, that as he glared at Perry, a slow lightening of his brow beneath his hat was apparent. His lips finally curved into a slight smile, his eyes seemed to sparkle in the light from the torches carried by some of the revellers who passed them, and he looked amused rather than annoyed as Perry stared at him, still feeling unaccountably breathless.
“I suppose it is no more than one might expect from one’s countrymen, to be roughly and unforgivably assaulted,” he said, and his languid drawl left Perry in no doubt that this was an English gentleman addressing him. His eyes raked over Perry as he spoke. He leaned in close, pressing his lips against Perry’s ear so that he might be heard above the noise from the people around them. “I expect you will find a way to make reparation,” he said. The suggestion in his voice left Perry staring at him, for he could scarcely credit what he had just heard.
“Come with me,” the gentleman said. “Or you will end up with the bull-runners and I think that might not be quite what you are seeking from your Venetian adventure.”
He took hold of Perry’s wrist and towed him effortlessly through the crowds, people parting before them, until they were standing in a narrow, dank alleyway. Tall buildings reared up on either side and the way ahead was dim, lit only by a few lamps in brackets outside doorways.
“I would ask if you are new to Venice but I suspect I already know the answer,” his rescuer—abductor?—said as he let go of Perry’s wrist and began to walk along the alleyway, evidently expecting Perry to accompany him. “Your mask is an interesting choice for it leads me to think you should be parading like a peacock. Instead, you seem to me more like a bird caught in a trap.”
Perry did not know what to say. He had never before found himself the subject of such extended, and perceptive, commentary. Nobody usually found him interesting enough for that. At length he supposed he should introduce himself. “I am Peregrine—”
“No.” The other man put his hand across Perry’s mouth before anything further could escape. Once he was certain Perry was quiet, he removed it again, leaving Perry slightly concerned at the way he missed the warmth of that large hand against his lips.
“No names, not here. This is the beauty of Venice at Carnevale, for anyone might be whomever he or she chooses and nobody will know. Keep your mask on, go only by your first name—which need not be your real first name—and you might indulge in anything and everything that your heart desires, without anybody being any the wiser. And when you leave Venice, as you will, for they always do, those boys upon the Grand Tour,” and the gentleman paused briefly before he continued. “When you return home to father several hopeful children, you will be able to alleviate the tedium of your life by boring everyone around you with memories of how once, for the space of a few weeks, you knew a wilder, less constrained existence.”
Perry did not know how to respond to the bitterness in the man’s voice.
“And now I have silenced you, have I not?” Although there was mockery in the gentleman’s voice, it did not sound unkind. “You may call me Jack, which may or may not be my name. It seems to me you have much to discover about Venice. My question for you is what are you seeking, for there is something here for everyone, regardless of rank or taste.”
He had continued to walk as he spoke. As Perry accompanied him, he became aware of couples pressed against doorways in the gloomy alleyway, and of one masked couple conducting a most enthusiastic coupling out in the open. Perry attempted to keep his eyes to the narrow road before him but he glanced up as they neared the end of the alleyway and saw yet another couple kissing in a doorway, their masks askew as their wearers were locked together at the mouth. A nearby lamp cast just enough light on them for Perry to realise suddenly that they were both gentleman.
His step faltered, for it was everything he wanted, and more—to be held like that, to be kissed like that, with such passion. And then he swallowed convulsively, for it became very clear to him that the taller of the two had his hand inside the other gentleman’s breeches and was stroking his cock. He knew that here such things were allowed but it still shocked him to see openly displayed something that in England carried the most brutal of penalties.
“I see,” Jack murmured, and when Perry looked round with a start, realising he had been staring, Jack was smiling beneath his gold velvet mask. “Worry not, Peregrine—it is helpful to know what it is you are looking for. I was thinking to deposit you at one of thecasini, or perhaps one of the better brothels, but I think I shall instead keep you with me. I suspect my destination will be very much to your taste.”
Perry’s cheeks flamed as he realised how obvious his interest had been, yet even that knowledge did not stop him following Jack through the labyrinthine passageways and alleyways. The major streets they encountered were crowded, with tumblers and jugglers entertaining the crowds as fireworks painted the sky, reflected in the water of the canals, but all Perry could think of was the lithe figure he followed.
As he looked away from them, confused and somewhat ashamed at having stared for so long, his gaze fell upon a tableau that had him clutching convulsively at Jack’s arm beneath his hand—and noting with some part of his brain how warm and muscled it felt through the fine material of his shirtsleeve. On the rug that lay before the fireplace, there were three men. One was on his hands and knees, his torso naked and his breeches pulled down about his knees. His cock stood out proud and dark from his body as the man kneeling behind him slid his cock into his arse and another man had hold of his hair and was thrusting deep into the gentleman’s mouth. It had never occurred to Perry it was possible for two gentlemen to take another at the same time, and he was not entirely sure why he could not breathe—whether it was horror and disgust or sudden, overwhelming desire.
He had no idea how long he stood and watched the three of them, but he became aware that Jack had moved. He was now standing behind Perry, his arms around Perry’s waist, and his mouth against Perry’s ear.
“Do you find that pleasing?” Jack asked. The laugh in his voice sent air gusting against Perry’s ear, and Perry shivered. Jack’s hand slid down from his waist, finding where Perry’s excitement was so obvious, his cock pressing eagerly against his breeches. Perry moaned slightly at the touch of Jack’s hand through the fine white silk and could not help pushing into Jack’s touch, no matter how shameless that made him.
“Oh yes, little bird, you most definitely find that pleasing. But tell me, what is it you like so much? Do you wish to be the gentleman riding that fine arse, pushing into the hot tightness as if you will die if you don’t keep going, just one more thrust. Or perhaps you wish to have your cock swallowed all the way down, and to fuck a tight wet throat. Or maybe it is the gentleman in the middle you most envy—being stuffed full of hard flesh in such a way, spitted upon large, hard cocks, until he feels they must surely meet in the middle.”
The only response Perry could manage came out as a strangled moan. Jack took that as a sign to unbutton Perry’s waistcoat, his lips still pressed against Perry’s ear as he spoke in a low voice. “Tell me if you do not wish for this, Perry. Some prefer simply to watch. There may also be others here you would prefer to me.” His tongue slipped inside Perry’s ear and made him moan again. No one had ever done that to Perry before, though he could not imagine why, for such clever, hot wetness pushing inside made him think of how it would feel elsewhere. “If there are others here who are more to your taste, I shall not be offended. Carnevale is about finding your pleasure, with no shame, no strings, and no regrets.”
“I would—” Perry could scarcely get the words out through his dry throat. “That is— I should like very much to be with you,” he said, for there was something about Jack. Jack with his green eyes and chestnut hair, his lips that curved so easily into a smile and his teasing. But most of all there was the fact that, for no reason Perry could explain, he knew he could trust Jack.
Jack laughed, sounding suddenly delighted. “Good,” he said. “Good. So now let us rid you of some of these clothes and we shall discover exactly what it is you wish for in your deepest, darkest dreams, Perry. I warrant it is not a marriage bed to share with some demure lady, is it?”
His clever fingers finished undoing the buttons on Perry’s waistcoat as he spoke and then he tugged Perry’s shirt from out of his breeches so he could work his hands beneath it. Perry groaned as the touch of Jack’s fingertips roaming over his skin, warm and somewhat callused so that they caught slightly, a delicious roughness on the smoothness of private skin. And then Jack’s fingertips trailed over the tight points of Perry’s nipples. Perry’s head rolled back on Jack’s shoulder and he groaned again, low and deep and could not stop it. “Please,” he said, and he was torn between hitching his hips forward, hoping desperately that Jack would touch him where his cock was pushing so insistently against his breeches, and rubbing his arse against Jack’s breeches, where the rigid line of Jack’s cock was so evident.
Jack’s fingers were nimble and sure upon the buttons of Perry’s fall, and then he moved backwards just enough to draw Perry’s breeches and drawers down his thighs so that his cock was revealed, hard and needing. Perry felt an instant of terrible, blinding shame at being so exposed in public, his need and his depravity there for all to witness, but Jack’s hand closed around his cock and he knew nothing except the slight calluses on his hand giving the most exquisite friction as he worked Perry.
“Do you see how they’re all watching?” Jack said it low into his ear, his voice sounding rough and breathless as he pressed his cock against Perry’s arse. “Every man here would like to touch you, to know how it feels to sink into that delightful arse of yours, and they cannot take their eyes from us.”
Perry dared somehow to look. Jack was right. They were being surveyed from all around the room but instead of judgement and disgust there was naked hunger in the eyes that watched them so greedily.
“Tell me, little bird, what exactly your fancy is this evening. You seemed to enjoy the idea of being used at both ends, did you not?”
Perry’s cheeks were hot yet again. “I shouldn’t,” he muttered, for it was against everything he had ever thought to be right and proper and decent.
“Oh, Perry.” Jack’s laugh was soft against his ear, and not unkind. “This is Carnevale, remember. There is no such word as shouldn’t.”