“It is very good,” the man agreed. He forced his gaze to meet Richard’s with what was obviously a great deal of effort, but it lasted only a few seconds before his gaze fell to the sofa again. “Did…did Madam Dorlet speak to you? Did she, eh, explain?”
“Yes,” Richard said calmly. “Quite a unique request.”
“Is it?” The man looked up. “She said as much. I almost fell asleep waiting. I was starting to think no one would…” He trailed off as his cheeks turned crimson.
Could the man have sunk down into the floor, Richard had no doubt he would have done it. The bashfulness pulled at him somewhere in his gut. Had he ever been so frightened, so unsure? He had to think that he must have been. It was a terrifying prospect to discover and accept that you were not like other men, that you were
unnatural.
“What is your name?” Richard said softly.
“Henry.” Another quick flush of the cheeks revealed that Henry had uttered the truth, probably inadvertently.
“Henry,” Richard repeated, smiling. He had always liked that name, so masculine and graceful at once. “I’m Richard. And so you don’t feel foolish, that is indeed my real name.”
Henry’s lips twitched. “You caught that, did you?”
“I did, but you may rest assured that old Dorlet is as silent as the grave. I know nothing else about you, Henry, except perhaps a little about your…experience.”
Henry colored again. He rested his hand on the back of the sofa, but it was not a casual pose. His fingers began twisting into the roped trim of the cushion. “Does that concern you?” he began. “D-do you want to change your mind?”
“Not a chance.”
When Henry looked up, startled, Richard held his gaze and saw that he had been correct. Cornflower-blue eyes. Captivating and innocent. Everything about Henry exuded pure, frightened innocence. Yet he was no milksop. How could he be? Innocence and nerves be damned, the man had taken it upon himself to visit a molly house and issue a bizarre request of which old Dorlet had no doubt tried to dissuade him. He had obviously refused to be deterred.
Richard rose to his feet and moved toward Henry, causing the man’s eyes to widen like saucers, but he brushed past and retrieved the empty glass that Henry had left on the side table earlier. “I think I will have another. Would you care for one?”
Henry swallowed. “No, thank you. But I would like some water, if you will.”
Richard nodded and moved back to the sideboard. He was once again glad for the chance to turn his back on the man—Henry—for a moment. A grin born of pure excitement stretched his lips, and he allowed it free rein for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure why he was so mindlessly excited. The evening could very well turn out to be a disaster, after all. Henry was inexperienced, he had admitted as much. It brought memories of Richard's own first time rushing before his eyes.
His excited smile dimmed.
He would be damned if anything like
that
would happen tonight.
“Here you are.” He handed over the glass of water and quite unintentionally brushed Henry’s fingers. Henry’s lips parted over the quietest of gasps, but it was enough to send a shock of delight through Richard’s chest. A mere touch. When was the last time he had been with anyone who was still affected by a mere touch?
He retook his seat a bit closer to Henry. He sipped his brandy and stalled with his gaze on the brown liquid. How was he going to do this?
Could
he do this? If he was honest with himself, seduction had never really been a required skill for him. Excepting that first time, everyone he had ever been with had had more or as much experience as he, and had known precisely what they wanted and what they were doing. He had never had to guide anyone.
The prospect of doing so, however, was intoxicating. And the other question in his mind—
should
he be doing this?—would not even voice itself. Oh, yes. He wanted to do this. Another glance at Henry made him sure of it.
“I’ve waited for so long,” Henry said suddenly. “I thought I could wait, well, forever, but I…” He looked up and into Richard’s eyes. “I don’t want to anymore.”
“I’m glad,” Richard said, his voice lowering. He reached out and rested his hand gently on Henry’s knee. Henry gasped, but Richard kept his hand still. There was only room for one of them to be awkward tonight. He knew that if he hesitated, if he did not provide the lead, the evening would be a disaster. Somehow, even when Dorlet had first been presenting the insane scheme to him, he had known exactly what was being asked and had wanted it. Tonight, he craved the control.
“I believe I’ll take that for you,” he said as he set his glass on the low table and took Henry’s as well. As Richard sat back, he managed to move a few inches closer.
“Thank you.” Henry gasped, then suddenly belted, “How old are you?”
Richard slid his hand over the soft wool covering Henry’s thigh. “Decrepitly old. I’ll be nine and twenty in two months.”
“Oh.” Henry’s eyes stayed on Richard’s, seemingly by sheer will, then glistened with humor. “That
is
old.”
Richard laughed. “Fine, then. And how about you, pup?”
“Six and twenty.”
Richard was actually surprised. He would have thought him several years younger even than that, but he owed that much to Henry’s eyes. Soft, kind eyes had a way of making a person eternally young. They
were
soft and kind. How had he drawn such a quick conclusion? It wasn’t like him.
“That
is
young,” Richard said, tossing the joke back at him. “Why, when I was five and doing manly things like chasing puppies around the barn, you were merely two and probably still trying to eat things off the ground.”
Henry’s face contorted into something like shock, just before shifting into laughter. Richard joined in, struck by the same sense of absurdity. They didn’t even know each other. They had not been in company for more than ten minutes. It all felt very…dreamlike. Unreal. Richard took his hand away from Henry’s leg and moved closer, turning his body toward him. Their knees touched.
Henry’s laughter vanished, and he stared, transfixed, as Richard leaned over him and placed a single kiss against his neck just below his ear. Richard inhaled the scent of freshly starched linen and a light musk cologne. Henry drew a sharp breath but otherwise did not move. Richard brushed his nose over Henry’s ear, feeling the tickle of golden hair as it fell against his eyelids.
He kissed Henry again. Henry made an unidentifiable sound deep in his throat.
“Do you like being kissed?” Richard whispered against his ear.
“I don’t…” Henry’s shoulders stiffened.
Richard tensed with disappointment. He pulled back. “You don’t. I’m sorry.”
“No, no.” Henry said, eyes wide. “I mean, I don’t know if I do. I…I think I would. Yes.”
Oh
. The true extent of Henry’s inexperience became even more clear. Before Richard could stop himself, he said, “You’ve never been kissed?”
Henry blushed crimson, but his jaw set sternly.
Richard sobered immediately and could have kicked himself for such a slip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so arrogantly shocked. You will start thinking I’m some sort of rake.” He chuckled, and fortunately, Henry soon followed.
Before another awkward silence could overtake them, Richard reached past Henry and set his hand on the arm of the sofa behind him. He once again set to kissing the side of Henry’s neck above his cravat.
Once, twice…slowly, Richard moved over flesh that grew warmer by the second. Henry was still, but his stillness was deceptive. Richard could feel the tension in Henry’s body, feel the muscles of his neck move each time he swallowed. Richard wanted to pull back and look at him, but he wouldn’t break the spell. Somehow, he knew that Henry had closed his eyes. His breaths were coming faster. Richard could not be sure if his breathing was rising excitement or rising panic.
“Tell me when you first knew,” Richard whispered just before he began tracing Henry’s earlobe with his lips.
“Mmm?” Henry tilted his head back farther.
“When did you know that you were different? Tell me what happened.”
“Why do you think something happened?” Henry said as he finally, tentatively placed a hand on Richard’s shoulder.
Richard made a low sound of approval in his throat as he brought a hand to Henry’s neck and began to loosen the folds of his cravat. “Something always happens. What was it?”
For a few seconds Richard thought his little plan to make Henry relax wasn’t going to work, but eventually Henry began to speak.
“I didn’t have many playmates when I was a boy. My est—where I grew up is remote. There was a neighbor family, but it was a secondary property. They were almost never there. They came to visit for a summer once.”
Richard hummed his approval, encouraging Henry to continue as he moved his kisses around to the front of Henry’s throat.
“They had two sons close to age with me, and they had brought friends from school to visit with them. Over night, I had a large group of boys to spend time with— Ah!” Henry gasped as Richard now began running a hand up and down the top of his thigh.
“Go on,” Richard whispered. “What happened?”
“They were bored one day, and I wanted them to think me very clever, so I… Oh.” Henry sighed as Richard placed his hand on the other side of Henry's neck, caressing him. Henry continued. “I told them about the wide part of the stream where the girls from the village swam sometimes. They were excited. They wanted to go see if we could peek at them.”
Richard almost chuckled. He could see where this was going, or at least had a good idea. “And when you got there, you weren’t nearly as excited as they were. Is that it?”
“I knew I wouldn’t be. I had seen them before, but I was young. I just thought there was nothing special about it to me…yet.”
Henry dropped his head back and closed his eyes as he meant to lean back against the arm of the sofa. Instead, Henry groaned and ran his hand down the front of Richard’s waistcoat.
Richard gasped, merely because he had not expected it, but Henry snatched his hand away as if it burned.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Anything you want.” Richard pulled back enough to see Henry’s face. He waited for him to open his eyes again. “I want you to do what pleases you. That’s the whole point, after all.” He wagged his eyebrows and rolled his eyes like a thoroughly playful fool.
Henry laughed anxiously, but the very tautness of his shoulders seemed to melt back into the sofa. He hesitated, then placed his hand flat against Richard’s waistcoat once more. He caressed leisurely, feeling Richard’s body beneath the warm silk.
“I believe you were telling a story, sir,” Richard crooned against Henry’s neck. “It would be rude to stop now.”
“Oh. Where are my manners? We, eh, we went to the stream and saw them. You could see everything through their shifts. They might as well have been naked. My new friends thought I was quite the fine fellow for coming up with the idea.” He swallowed hard. “I was the one who suggested swimming ourselves.”
“Oh, were you?” Richard chuckled.
Henry’s hand moved lower on Richard’s waistcoat, allowing him to skim his thumb under the bottom edge.
“It was stupid of me,” Henry whispered. “I shouldn’t have suggested it, but I had no idea. Not really.”
Something in Henry’s voice turned sour, rueful. Richard began raking his fingers slowly through Henry’s hair, massaging his scalp in a way that he himself loved. The honey-blond hair was surprisingly soft.
“You don’t have to finish the story if it’s unpleasant,” Richard said. “I understand.”
“No, nothing happened,” Henry assured him. He was tentative, testing, but eventually he moved his hand under the silk of Richard’s waistcoat and felt around to his side and his lower back. Henry stammered as he said, “I-it was just my eyes opening. The other boys, they…well, they hardly seemed to notice that we were naked in broad daylight in front of each other, but I just wanted to
stare
.”
Richard grunted his understanding. He was getting heated and terribly aroused. His lower back was starting to speak to him about holding himself up in such an awkward position, but he was reluctant to lower himself any closer to Henry just yet. He was so hard that the pressure against the fall of his trousers was making him wince, but he wasn’t sure how Henry would react once he noticed. With each passing second, memories of his own first encounters—the uncertainly, the panic—bloomed fresh in Richard’s mind.
“Tell me what you want, Henry.” Richard hummed against his neck. Henry gasped and made a few hesitant sounds, but said nothing. Richard smiled and moved his hand farther up Henry’s thigh, curving around to his hip. He wasn’t expecting an answer. He had asked the question that he knew Henry’s nerves would not allow him to answer. It did not matter. They needed to move further. The need was beginning to make him pant.
He moved his hand away from Henry’s hip and over the front of his trousers. Hard, hot flesh twitched beneath the tight cloth.
“Ah!” Henry cried, but he didn’t try to pull away. Instead, he dug his fingers into Richard’s shoulder and clenched his eyes shut.
“Relax,” Richard said with a chuckle. “I like to take things slowly. I think you will too.”
He pulled the loosened cravat from Henry’s neck, letting it slide slowly down Henry’s chest before he dropped it to the floor. Henry’s lips, which glistened in the candlelight, pink and warm, parted, though his eyes were still shut.
Richard crushed his lips over Henry’s with more force than he had intended. It caused Henry to lose his balance and fall back against the arm of the sofa, his hands going to Richard’s shoulders. Richard could not bring himself to break away, but he made himself slow down and soften the kiss. Henry’s lips were still, his jaw clamped shut, but after a moment he seemed to understand what Richard wanted. His lips parted, letting Richard in.
“Did you lose your balance?” Henry said as soon as they separated long enough to take a breath.
Richard pulled back and looked down into Henry’s eyes—merry, laughing eyes on a face that was trying desperately not to laugh. “I believe I did.” He grinned. “How clumsy of me. I’m glad you were here to break my fall.” He took Henry’s lips again.