He flipped to the back of the book and sucked in a sharp breath. Wide eyes met mine, his pupils turning black and sultry before he tried to temper his reaction. He lowered the book, a bead of sweat forming above his top lip. The ashen tinge to his skin gave me concern. “It appears rather revealing and a bit heathen,” he said.
“It dates back to ancient times. I’m afraid they weren’t as civilized as we are.” I handed him a cigar, guilt starting to weigh my shoulders down at my manipulation. I was much more experienced in this and had the benefit of knowing exactly what he’d find at the back of the book. He clearly wasn’t ready to admit to his desires, and I was afraid he never would if I pushed him further.
“I see.” He clasped the cigar, his gaze falling to my mouth. Lust sparked brightly, along with confusion and a touch of fear. “It is no secret that the Greeks commonly practiced sodomy.”
“Some would say it was an abomination.” I had to choose my words with care. My ploy with the book might have woken a sleeping giant, or I could have poked a hornet’s nest. Either way, I would be the worst sort of prat to continue along this vein. He would admit to his desires, or I would end the evening with a drink and a promise to keep his counsel.
“Would you be one of those people?” he asked in a rush, shutting the book and laying it back on the table. The cigar rested between his lean fingers, the quiver in his hand more pronounced. Indecision flitted across his brow, and my heart softened toward him. He was confused and fighting his needs. I wanted to be the man to free him from his restraints.
I settled the tip of the cigar on my mouth, licking the end of the rolled tobacco. He watched my every move, the desire in his eyes more distinct. “I make it a point not to judge others. Whatever you say or do in this room stays between us.”
Hesitation hardened his features, his skin taut across his high cheekbones. I ached to reach over and smooth the lines away. I rolled the cigar instead.
“I, um, I need to ask Amelia to marry me.” The words were spoken low and with much frustration.
“So you have said.” I offered an encouraging smile and formed my reply. I was willing to give him the time he needed to confess his secret, but I wasn’t above nudging him along. “If what is bothering you with Amelia is a simple matter of cold feet, I would suggest the two of you have an honest conversation.” I had a sense it went much deeper than that.
“It’s not as simple as that. I, I...” He shifted in his seat and gripped the cigar, breaking it in half. His jaw dropped open, and he stared down at the two ends. “I’m sorry, but she would never understand, nor would I expect her to. She’s a lady.”
I laid my hand on his wrist, the skin warm beneath my hand. “Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you? I promise to listen and not pass judgment.”
“You say that now.” He lowered his lashes, fiddling with the ragged edges of the cigar.
“I will swear on my word as a gentleman that—barring a murder or you harming a child in some perverted manner—I will not pass judgment.”
“I am not a murderer or a molester of innocents.” He kept his eyes downcast until the clock over the mantel chimed the quarter hour. Exhaling, he placed his hands on his knees. “I love Amelia, but I— I— I can’t be a good husband to her, not in the true sense.”
Understanding dawned, and I nodded. I might have been off the mark on this one. Oliver being queer was one explanation. The other might be the simplest. “You love her, but you’re notinlove with her. Marriages in our class are based on less.”
“No, you don’t understand. I do love her, and therein lies the rub. I—” He pressed his fingertips to his temples, anguish twisting his mouth. “I can’t bed her. She’s a lady.”
Silence hung between us after his confession. His youth shone through, and I leaned back in my seat, contemplating the end of my cigar for a long moment. I commiserated with him. My first time with Sally had been awkward, with both of us unsure of what to do, but knowing we desired each other. “She’s a woman and your friend. It might initially seem awkward, but you will find an agreeable path.”
“No, you don’t understand.” He shoved his fingers into his hair and pulled the strands, burying his face in his hands. “I am incapable of bedding her or any other woman.”
Disappointment coursed through me, along with incredulity. Surely I hadn’t mistaken his earlier physical response to me or the illustrations in the book. It was a possibility, and until I found out for certain, I wouldn’t say anything to incriminate myself. “Are you incapable of bedding a woman?”
“I—I’m like a Greek,” he said, his voice heavy with abject misery. Head down, he waved a hand in the direction of the book. “The second half of the book, not the first. Are you disgusted by me?”
Relief shot through me at his confession. I hadn’t been far off the mark. I leaned over and placed a palm on his neck, massaging the tense flesh. “On the contrary, I applaud you for speaking the truth, and I will give you my truth. Look at me, Oliver.”
He lifted his head, caution resting in his stare, along with hope.
“I wish to kiss you. Will you allow me?” I asked, caressing the side of his neck with the pad of my finger. The soft texture of his skin was enticing, and I ached to bury my nose in his throat and inhale his masculine heat.
“Yes, please.” He met my mouth halfway, his lips hesitant and unsure. I slanted my head, trailing tiny kisses along his full bottom lip. He groaned, one large hand coming to rest on my thigh.
Passion raged inside my chest, and I sat at the edge of my chair. Bringing his lip between my teeth, I glided my other hand up his thigh to the placard of his trousers. His cock was swollen beneath the fabric, ready for my exploration. “I see you have no issue getting hard,” I said, my words coming out breathy with need as I stood
“No, not for you,” he said, pulling back from my kiss until our eyes locked. “I desire you.”
From what he indicated, he hadn’t followed through with his passions with another man.
I leaned over him and pushed his legs apart, eager to introduce him to the world of passion. “And I desire you. Am I safe in assuming you’ve never been with a man before?”
“Yes.” He licked his lips, the enticing sight enhancing my erection. Our mouths connected once more, supple lips exploring mine. He leaned back in his seat and allowed me to unbutton his trousers. He groaned deep in his chest, plying my lips with his seeking ones. For an innocent man, he excelled at kissing. Although I’d caught him kissing Amelia several times, therefore he wasn’t that innocent. Amelia, with her silky skin and tempting breasts. Fire flicked the flames in my blood, and I drew his cock from his small clothes.
Withdrawing from his searing kiss, I palmed his length and rested my knees on the floor between his parted legs.
