Deliberately Bound (Bound #3-1/2)

Genre: BDSM LGBT Historical
Previous Book: Bound Forever

“When do you need to return to Town?” Vincent asked, as he began to unbutton his navy coat. Since the post ensured business matters reached him in Rotherham, he could remain for a good month or more. Unfortunately, Oliver’s obligations and not Vincent’s tended to dictate the length of their stays in the country.

Oliver let his waistcoat slip from his arms, the garment falling to the floorboards, and shrugged. “Not for a few days. Perhaps Saturday.”

Four days from now? That wouldn’t put them back in London for a week, making their absence from Town push three weeks in total. But Vincent held back the urge to question him with a firm reminder that it was Oliver’s business and not his own. The man would know when he was needed back at his shop.

Vincent folded his coat and set it on the chair next to the dressing room door. “I’ll have word sent to the stables tomorrow to have the carriage prepared to depart on Saturday.” In any case, who was he to complain about having more nights than anticipated with Oliver in Rotherham, where not a single servant spent the night under their roof?

Where there were absolutely no worries anyone else would hear the full force of Oliver’s desire.

Lust spiked his senses, wound its way into his veins, settling in his groin. The candles on the mantel provided enough light so he could just make out the faint outline of the sleek lines of Oliver’s back beneath his white shirt. His fingers twitched with the need to rip the trousers from his lover’s body, to expose the firm round globes of his arse. To toss the man onto the mattress, bind him to the bed, and fuck every last “more” from his lips.

But he stopped himself before he took even one step closer to Oliver.

Patience. He repeated the word in his head.

The entire night awaited them. Many, many hours until his housekeeper arrived at dawn. No reason to rush at all.

Desire firmly in check, he set to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. A warm, summer night’s breeze drifted into the room, fluttering the drapes covering the window near the bed. Fabric swooshed softly as Oliver tugged his cravat from his neck, the sound amplified in the quiet room.

Oliver turned from the bedside table. A little smile curved the edges of his lips as he regarded Vincent. “Will you put yourself in my hands tonight?”


© Ava March, May 2011
All Rights Reserved