Dorian stalked away angrily. "None of your damned business." In the bowl on the dresser, he rinsed his mouth out and washed his hands with some soap, then he pulled on a robe. He poured two glasses of brandy at the table in the corner and brought them to the bed, thrusting one at Benedict.
Benedict took it. He sipped and grimaced.
Dorian eyed him. He thought of other things he could do to the whore before he let him go.
"Tell me," Benedict insisted, his voice softer this time. His green eyes bored into Dorian's.
Dorian sank onto the chair near the fire. He took a big swallow of brandy and liked the way it burned down to his stomach. "This is a tale of Richard," he said. "My houseboy."
Benedict didn't speak. He moved to sit on the end of the bed, waiting.
"Richard worked for me until summer last year. I was fond of him. Too fond. I wanted to shower my adoration on him and I let him know it. I… made inappropriate advances to him and he was horrified. He told me he would ruin me. I laughed it off because no one would believe his word against mine. I let him go, even though it broke my heart to do so. I told myself I was preserving my secret if I got rid of him despite the fact it cut me to the quick.
"But I'd sent him letters. Letters that declared my love and my desire to have him in my bed. He showed these letters to a magistrate and I found myself in court charged with sodomy. I served a year in prison and only a considerable bribe secured my early release.
"When I came out, everyone knew what I was guilty of. My friends disappeared, many of my household staff left and my parents disowned and disinherited me. It might not look like it from this grand house, but I'm almost penniless and will soon have to sell the very roof over my head.
"I have not a single friend in the world. I was ruined by the man I thought I loved. I am ostracised and whispered about in public. I am turned away from restaurants and public houses. I am a man of the most perverse, base tastes and because of this I deserve to be alone for the rest of my life."
Dorian hung his head. He hadn't meant to be so frank but then a taste of alcohol usually loosened his tongue. Plus, he'd glanced at the clock and seen it was well into the early hours of Christmas Day. He felt so sorry for himself. Broken and defeated and adrift.
Benedict climbed naked off the bed and padded across the thick carpet to him. He sat on Dorian's knee with his arms around his neck and held him close.
Dorian trailed hesitant hands down Benedict's bare back. He inhaled the lovely scent of his skin and pressed a kiss to one elegant shoulder.
"Will you stay with me until Christmas Day ends?"
"Yes," said Benedict.
They sat companionably like that for a long time, Benedict on Dorian's lap, the shoulder nearest the fire turning rosy. He drank brandy from Dorian's glass and then from his mouth and giggled when the alcohol went to his head. Dorian fed him some more little chocolates and breathed the scent from him when they kissed.
Benedict slid from his lap to the floor. He parted Dorian's robe and licked at the head of his stiffening cock. Dorian shifted, spreading his legs. He touched his balls while Benedict's succulent lips slid down his aching prick.
Benedict swallowed him whole. He sucked with slow steady pulls of his wonderful mouth. Dorian looked down at him. He liked Benedict on his knees this way. He liked the way the whore looked up at him with seemingly innocent, yet wanton eyes, filled with lust and desire.
Dorian wanted to be inside him again.
He pushed Benedict's head away and stood up. Then he caught the Mary-Ann and yanked him towards the bed, shoving him face down. Benedict clearly liked the rough treatment. He lifted his tantalising little arse in the air, wriggling it deliberately, looking over his shoulder. Dorian cursed. He slapped one cheek and Benedict shouted.
Dorian reached into the bedside drawer. He pulled free another bottle of oil and four long, purple silk scarves. Benedict eyed them. He gave a little whimper as Dorian caught one hand and looped the scarf around his waist, tying it firmly to the bedpost. He did the same with another, leaving Benedict tethered and pulling ineffectively at his bonds.
Then he pulled Benedict's legs so the prostitute was flat on his face. He tied a leg to each bedpost at the bottom, leaving Benedict splayed wide open.
Benedict panted for breath, straining at his bonds. One buttock glowed scarlet. Dorian gave it a matching handprint on the other side and Benedict howled. He lifted his plump little bottom back at Dorian, making his need plain.
"You whore," Dorian accused him. "You want it don't you?"
"I need filling up again," Benedict said coyly, looking over his shoulder.
Dorian ground his teeth. Benedict spread out and helpless beneath him was too much for him. His legs were splayed so wide that Dorian could see his little hole, still wet, trails drying down his thighs. Dorian poured some oil down onto him and Benedict squirmed as he massaged it in.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes. Make me wet and ready for you, Dorian. I want you inside me."
Breathless with desire, Dorian fingered him. Benedict bucked back at his hand with little gasps and groans. He lifted his head, staring as Dorian got off the bed and removed one of the candles from the bedside table.
He extinguished the flame and knelt between Benedict's legs once more. His lover howled as wax dripped onto his buttocks. Dorian swept it quickly away and planted some soothing kisses in apology. Then he turned the dripping candle upside down and pushed it into Benedict.
The whore squirmed and scrabbled at the bed covers as Dorian fucked him with the candle. Dorian felt under him, bent his hard cock back so it lay pressed against the covers, visible below his balls, the head swollen and rosy, leaking fluid.
With an oiled hand, he rubbed Benedict's cockhead and then his own. He tossed the now-softened candle away and lay flat on his lover. He pressed into his delectable arse, feeling how Benedict's muscles grasped him, sucked him eagerly inside.
Benedict swore. The bed shook as he pulled at his bonds, frantically rubbing his cock against the silky covers. With his full weight upon him, Dorian fucked him hard, mouth against the back of Benedict's neck.
Benedict craned his head around and Dorian gave him a clumsy kiss. He did his best to tease Benedict's cock with his fingertips. Their balls slapped together. Dorian felt his climax coming and didn't hold off—he would please Benedict soon enough. He spilled inside him with a loud groan, hips snapping unsteadily until the last waves died away.
Benedict mumbled something incoherent as Dorian pulled free. He spread his legs farther against the bonds that held him as Dorian slid down the bed. He tongued the head of Benedict's cock, trapped against the covers. He sucked it and while he did, he held Benedict's buttocks wide apart with one hand so he could watch the little hole flutter and jump.
Benedict was running with Dorian's spendings. Dorian licked it from the whore's balls. Benedict wriggled against the wet covers beneath him. Dorian pressed his tongue to Benedict's slit, flicking over it, delving into it and listened to him cry out. He erupted and his entrance pulsed, discharged Dorian's fluid in thick streams.
Dorian licked Benedict's semen from his lips. He lapped at the head of his cock, drinking it up, liking how Benedict squirmed with sensitivity now he had achieved his climax. Dorian got off the bed and went to clean himself up. He glanced over at Benedict as he dried his hands.
"I might leave you tied up there all night for my pleasure," he said.
Benedict stared back at him wantonly. "I don't mind if you do."
"Dirty little boy. You can't get enough of my hard prick in your arse can you?"
"No," said Benedict shamelessly.
Dorian walked across to the bed with his glass of brandy. He dipped two fingers into the liquid and pushed them into Benedict's mouth. Benedict sucked on them, looking up at him from beneath thick, fluttering lashes, his lips sending a jolt to Dorian's insatiable cock.
Dorian's other hand caressed the gay boy's sweet little face. "You're beautiful. Much more so than Richard."
Benedict drew back. He kissed Dorian's knuckles, their gazes holding. Dorian leaned over and untied Benedict's left wrist. He climbed onto the bed to untie the right. He rubbed the red marks the scarves had left regretfully. Benedict lay still until Dorian had freed his ankles and then he sat up. "Can I wash now?"
Dorian regarded him, wanting to say no, because he liked Benedict covered in both their spunk. "Let me," he said. He guided Benedict over to the dresser and laid a towel on the floor. He sponged Benedict's chest and groin and then he knelt behind him and Benedict stood with legs apart while Dorian cleaned his bottom with the soft cloth. Benedict's cheeks were still pink from his spanking and Dorian kissed them while he cleaned.
A dribble of white ran from Benedict's hole as Dorian wiped. He used his tongue to catch the fluid and Benedict drew in his breath and braced his hands on the dresser. Dorian didn't stop. He licked swiftly, slathering saliva over Benedict's used, open entrance, feeling how it contracted and pulsed with each lick.
Benedict's legs shook. He leaned forward over the dresser, sticking his bottom out, giving Dorian easier access. His elbow moved swiftly as he masturbated.
Dorian held his hips, fingers digging in. His tongue took Benedict over the edge once again, Dorian's lover trembling hard as he frigged himself to conclusion.
Dorian turned him around. Benedict slumped back over the dresser as Dorian licked at the fluid still dribbling from his prick.
Finally he cleaned Benedict up again with the cloth and led him to the bed. Benedict sank gratefully onto the mattress. Dorian lay down beside him and pulled the covers over them. He blew out the remaining candle so the dying embers of the fire lit the room.
"You are most pleasing Benedict. I shall pay you handsomely."
Benedict curled into him and put his head on Dorian's shoulder. "I thought you were penniless."
"No, nearly penniless. I can still afford to pay you for a job well done."
They lay in silence for a while until Dorian said, "Now why don't you tell me why you're selling yourself on Christmas Eve?"
"The same reason as you. I'm disowned and abandoned. I fled to London after my father caught me with the neighbours' son, his pego in my mouth. He beat me. He threw me down the stairs."
Dorian smoothed a hand over his shoulder. "He broke your leg?"
"Yes."
Rage made Dorian's mouth sour. "If you were mine, nobody would hurt you again."
Benedict swallowed. He turned his face up to Dorian's. They kissed in the silence.
Church bells awoke Dorian. From the street below drifted the melodic sound of children singing Christmas carols. He blinked and looked down at the golden head against his chest. He lifted a hand to stroke the tousled strands, his stomach contracting with warmth.
Benedict mumbled something and snuggled closer into his side.
"Morning, sleepyhead."
"Morning, Dorian. I should tell you I'm ill-tempered in the morning."
"So am I, but when I find an angel in my bed, I tend to become all sweetness and light."
Benedict lifted his head. He smiled shyly. "You charmer."
"That's me." Dorian kissed him on the forehead then eased himself free from Benedict's body. "I need to tell Willis to bring double breakfast and set a second place for Christmas dinner. Shall I bring you back some coffee?"
"Yes, please." Benedict stretched and yawned as Dorian slid from the bed and pulled on his robe.
"I won't be long." Dorian slipped through the door.
* * * *
In the silence left behind, Benedict got up, pulling the top cover around him, shivering his way to the window. He twitched one heavy curtain back and looked down into the street. A fresh snowfall covered everything and wan sunshine made it all startlingly bright. Children played snowball games; passersby hurried past with arms full of presents.
Benedict blinked and let the curtain fall back. He was glad he didn't have to stand outside in the snow today to make a coin. Although he wasn't sure he would have got many offers on Christmas Day. Perhaps later when frustrated men spilled from the public houses—or from their families and wives.
He had been lucky last night, meeting a man whom he could console while receiving solace himself. A perfect arrangement. And Dorian was so attractive too—dark-haired and dark-eyed and extremely fine of figure. Benedict's skin tingled in memory. He put a hand down and touched himself between his legs. Still sticky and tender but sensitive enough to make his cock thicken. He thought of Dorian's tongue lapping him there and groaned under his breath, lying back and palming his shaft.
Oh God, he wanted Dorian inside him once more. He wanted him lying beside him with a strong arm around him, taking away Benedict's misery and loneliness. It had been so, so long since he had shared someone's bed for a full night and woken up to a smile and a kiss. He was lucky this Christmas. He wished he could be lucky for the rest of his Christmases.
* * * *
Dorian should have been eating a solitary Christmas dinner today. Instead he carried two cups of coffee up the stairs with his face still blushing after asking Willis to bring breakfast for two to his room. What did it matter what the butler thought? Willis had been the only member of his staff to stay when Dorian was disgraced. He was still here looking after the empty house when Dorian had returned from prison and never once had he looked at Dorian in a disdainful way. Polite, hard-working and discreet, Willis was the only thing in his life Dorian had to be grateful about.
Until this morning.
Good God, a gay boy had shared his bed last night and not crept out with his jewellery or the family silver. It was Christmas morning and he was not alone.
He entered his bedroom and placed the cups on the dresser while he bent to pile some more logs in the grate. When they were kindling, he straightened up and glanced over at the bed. Furtive movement beneath the covers attracted his attention. He brought the cups to the bedside table and took a sip from one before he said, "What are you doing under there?"