STORY EXCERPT

The door closed behind Aureus with a whisper rather than the harsh click he had been expecting. No key turned, no lock clunked, but the message rang through the air loud and clear—he was inside now, and the manor intended to keep him.

The man stalked past him, swishing his hair back from his face to reveal a long, elegant neck. He smelled like frost and old books. Aureus wrapped his arms around himself. His teeth chattered until he was sure they would smash. It was barely any warmer in the manor than it had been outside. He allowed his eyes to rove over the back of the man as he lit three candles on a candelabra. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a neat waist and long legs that bulged beneath hose that Aureus hadn’t seen men wear except in the picture books his father would read to him when he was a child. His stomach clenched at the thought of his father.

The entrance hall towered over Aureus, grander in design than any cathedral in the land, but its vaulted ceilings were threaded with cobwebs that glittered as they quivered overhead. The stone walls were etched with vines that glimmered with frost. Aureus breathed in, ignoring how his eyes still stung, and his chest burned. The air smelled of ancient dust and dried flowers. He shuffled forwards, every unsure step echoing off the walls with theatrical loneliness.

His sodden boots left wet prints on the mosaic floor, and suddenly he realized his socks were swimming within them. Snow fell in clumps off his cloak, melting slowly into pools in a trail behind him. Even though the house looked as unkempt as its master, Aureus still felt an age-old guilt at the mess he left behind. The air had that strange heaviness of a crypt.

The man—his host, his captor, his keeper—walked ahead without turning. Aureus didn’t want to follow him, but he supposed waiting in the foyer dripping oceans wasn’t really an option either. Aureus had learned little about him beyond his penchant for dramatics and his apparent fondness for vicious threats disguised as manners. Despite the dust on his shoulders, when he spoke, his voice was refined, low. It was touched with an accent Aureus couldn’t place, familiar yet not at the same time. Not aristocratic exactly but old, lyrical. Like a melody from a forgotten instrument, perhaps one that went unmastered. Practically tripping over his own feet to catch up with the waning light moving away from him, Aureus scrambled after the man. Being left alone filled him with even greater trepidation than being stuck with this man.

“You’ll have the east wing.”

He nodded as the man took two marble steps at a time on a grand staircase with the eloquence of someone who’d been climbing it for centuries.

“There are rules though. The library is open to you, at any hour. The greenhouse, however, is not. Ever. You may roam the halls as you desire, but not the third floor. And finally, you are not to leave the grounds before your year is up.”

Aureus chewed the insides of his cheeks, breathing through his nostrils.

 “What charming hospitality,” Aureus said through clenched teeth, trailing behind.

The man paused, suddenly seeming taller than ever before. His shoulders tightened, but he didn’t turn.

“I’m offering you shelter. It’s… It’s more than I was ever given.”

A chill swept through the castle, making Aureus shudder. He paused, allowing the words to flow over him. There was a story there. A jagged one, full of sadness and pain. Aureus filed it away for later, locked in a box with don’t touch the roses and you never know what is listening. Did these seemingly innocuous titbits of conversation hold the key to his freedom? He hoped so.

Eventually, they reached a hallway of faded portraits. Men and women in antique garb, some high on gilded horses, others staring out from thrones. Aureus paused. No, not staring. To stare, they would need eyes, and their eyes were missing. Aged and faded away perhaps, but the griping in Aureus’s stomach told him it was something far more sinister. He moved along the hallway, gazing at each in turn. One painting remained untouched: a single, broad figure in a velvet chair. Their face was turned away, shrouded in shadow. The brushstrokes were heavier and the paint laid in thick daubs as though the painter had been frantic, as if they struggled to finish the piece. Aureus wet his lips and pointed at the looming portrait.

“This is you, isn’t it?”

The man stopped walking and turned on his heel. He glanced at the painting then pinned Aureus with a look that sent icy fingers creeping up his spine.

“No. That is… was… someone who loved me. Once. A very long time ago.”

Aureus opened his mouth to speak, but the man spun and walked on, his boots echoing across the rough floorboards.

Their path ended at a door fashioned from dark oak, bound in iron.

ADULT EXCERPT

Aureus had no idea how they had somehow made it back to his room, but they had. As the door slammed behind them, Thorne shoved him onto the bed and leapt on top of him. He kissed him hard, his tongue fighting past his teeth, tasting the sweet softness of the inside of his mouth.

Aureus’s cock, painfully pinned in his breeches, just yearned to be touched. Taking Thorne’s hand, he pressed it against his rock-hard bulge, flinging his head back and gasping as he began to massage.

“See… impatient,” Thorne whispered.

He moved his hand slowly at first, in circles, then harder and harder until Aureus was sure he was going to explode from the agonizing pleasure.

Thorne looked down at Aureus and heaved in a breath. “You’re so devastatingly beautiful,” he said.

Aureus’s cheeks flushed as red as his kiss-swollen lips as he heaved himself up and slid a hand around the back of Thorne’s neck. Thorne pressed his lips against Aureus’s, pecking softly, before allowing himself to melt against Aureus, running his other hand through his thick curls. He tugged, but not hard, just enough for them to dissolve into one another.

“My treasure,” Thorne whispered when they parted. “Oh, my dear, sweet sin.”

Aureus’s insides turned to liquid at his words. His fingers shook as they plucked each one of Thorne’s shirt buttons open. There were so many on the old-fashioned shirt that he almost tore the fabric from Thorne in a fit of rage, but he managed to restrain himself as inch by inch, Thorne’s pale hairy chest was revealed.

Suddenly, his wrists were grasped, stopping him in his tracks. He gazed up at Thorne, his heart hammering. Wriggling his fingers, he made no move to release himself from the other man’s clutches. Thorne smirked.

“Use your words,” he commanded.

Aureus’s mouth went dry as every word he’d ever learned slipped right out of his brain. He twisted his arms, but Thorne held fast, his stoic mask never wavering as he caught Aureus with his stare.

“I want to hear you say it, Aureus. What do you want?”

He hated the way Thorne’s touch made him pliant. Hated it, and yet, his body sang for it. His erection throbbed dangerously, and his head spun.

“I want to be good for you.”

Salivating, Aureus ducked his head and took a rosebud nipple into his mouth. He suckled, his cock screaming within its confines to be released, but he knew if he listened to it, it would all be over too soon, and he wanted to make this moment last forever. Thorne vibrated as he lay back down, and Aureus cupped his breast, tweaking the other nipple until it stood proud and as hard as a little pebble.

Once again, they kissed as Thorne shucked his jacket and shirt in one move. He unbuckled is belt and slid it out through the loops then unbuttoned his breeches. Aureus did the same, sighing as the cool air lapped his sticky skin. He slid kisses across Thorne’s stubbly jaw, the scratching of his lips sending him wild. He nipped at the hard lines, allowing his tongue to sooth the small red welts he left. He licked his earlobe, sucking it in before pushing his tongue into Thorne’s ear.

“I want you to take me… all of me.”

Thorne’s prick swelled, creating a heavy outline in his breeches. In one hand, he held his belt, the thick, black leather wound around his palm. Aureus wet his lips, and he slipped his hand inside Thorne’s trousers and grasped the fat hunk of meat, his heart leaping into his throat as he realized just how big Thorne’s cock was. Thorne grabbed Aureus’s shoulders as they rolled across the bed. His hair fell over his face as he stared down, pinning Aureus’s hands over his head. Thorne’s nails bit into his skin, and Aureus winced, but he didn’t try to escape. Even when Thorne wound the belt around his wrists, first round one, then the other, then looped them together, finally pulling the strap through the buckle and tugged hard. Aureus’s skin was on fire as, ever so gently, Thorne used his free hand to pull his own breeches down. His cock sprang free from a nest of glittering black curls. The head bouncing like a ripened plum, shining in the light from the hearth. Leaning close, his breath whispered across Aureus’s skin as he yanked his arms above his head.

“Let me know if it gets too much,’ he whispered.

Aureus nodded but stopped as a bolt of pain shot through him where Thorne had bitten his earlobe. Tears sprang to his eyes, but the sting dissipated as Thorne’s tongue roved over the tender flesh of his ear. His prick leaked cool trails down his legs as he wriggled, his shoulders already burning with the pain of being trussed up like a prized goose.

“Thorne,” he whimpered, his head spinning. “Please, just take me. Take me now!”

“You don’t get to give orders, little thing. You ask. And if I’m pleased… I’ll grant it.”