Chapter Six

Debauched

“Fine,” I said. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his exquisite forearms—veiny and super masculine.

“Fine,” he echoed. “You are fine, Toby. So fucking fine I just want to eat you the fuck up.”

“You already did that,” I pointed out.

“No, no. That was nothing but an amuse-bouche, my fine friend.”

I snorted. “Could have fooled me. But yeah, it was very, very amusing on my end.”

I wasn’t sure we were friends. I wasn’t sure we were anything but two bodies colliding in the night—er, early morning. But maybe I was fooling myself, because this already felt like something I’d never experienced before. I didn’t want to get in too deep with someone who was only supposed to be a one-night stand, but it was hard to put up a wall when you didn’t want to.

So, I didn’t—or not much of one, anyway. Mr. Kenney—Alastair—had oozed sincerity since we’d chatted on the steps of Maverick Molly’s, when he’d confessed to a plethora of hookups and not apologized for any of it.

I supposed I was one of those hookups, now. Well, I would commit to it a hundred percent. And if we only had a few hours together, then they might as well be good ones. I could pick up the shattered pieces of my soul later.

He kneeled over me, straddling my hips but not putting his weight on me, examining the silk buttons on the front of the corset. “I love this. Never thought a corset would look so good on a man.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, “It feels good, too. I like the way it…holds me together? I don’t know.”

He smiled again. That dimple was gonna be the end of me.

“I like the way it holds you together, too.”

He cupped my waist and bent to kiss me.

Kissing on the sidewalk had been hot. In the elevator, even more so. But locking lips with Mr. Alastair Kenney as he loomed over me on the king-sized bed in a room at the Chateau Laurier, after he’d already made me come and half-undressed me so seductively, was fucking epic.

I opened beneath him like a star-struck virgin, thrilling to his masterful tongue and wandering hands. They roamed all over the corset, squeezing, tracing, stroking it…and me underneath.

The kiss started off deep and devastating and only got hotter from there. I thought I was going to suffocate but, meh, breathing was overrated. This kiss was everything. If I hadn’t yielded completely to him before, I definitely did now. Take it, it’s yours, my body was saying.

My brain lagged a bit behind, not wanting to go too far in the name of—I don’t know what. Modesty? Fuck, no. Comfort? Hell, I was feeling pretty comfortable with Mr. Alastair Kenney. Maybe more of a don’t-give-everything-up-on-the-first date vibe.

But then, this was supposed to be a one-off. The question was, did I want all of it? Or did I only want an entertaining, surface tour?

It was hard to decide when I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight.

And I was a bit confused that he wasn’t suggesting I suck him off—which I was totally willing and eager to do, thank you very much—or give him a hand job—yes, please—but seemed content to kiss and fondle me, even though I’d already made a mess of the carpet in a room at the fanciest hotel in Ottawa.

I broke from the kiss. Alastair continued along my jawline as I forced myself to speak.

“Don’t you want me to…?”

“This is fine. I want to kiss you, touch you.”

“Okay,” I sighed.

I wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. Maybe it was a testament to the power of a scintillating costume. Would he be so dedicated to worshipping my body if I wasn’t dressed up like a Victorian molly boy? I had no idea, and I didn’t care. The outfit had been my idea, and it was paying off.

He traced the edge of the velvet choker then found the tiny buttons on the front of the corset.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, voice low and rough.

“God, yes. Please.”

Wow, look at me being all polite. What the fuck was up with this? It was unlike any hookup I’d ever had, but I was definitely enjoying it.

He continued to kiss my neck then pulled the cotton of the chemise aside to get at my shoulder as he popped the tiny buttons along the front of my corset. I’d only ever been the one to take the thing off before, and I had to say, having a paramour remove your clothing as skillfully as if they dealt with historic garments on a daily basis was…exhilarating.

“Wait a second,” I said breathlessly, because something had occurred to me. “Do you sleep with women?”

Alastair stopped what he was doing and pulled back to meet my gaze. “Well, I’m bisexual. So, yes. I have.” He smiled. “Is that a problem for you?”

I let out a breath. Was it? Not exactly.

“No, I just—” I said, licking my lips and wondering what kinds of women Alastair brought to the Chateau Laurier. “I thought you were gay. I assumed…because of Molly’s…”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to assume anything these days,” he said. “Shall I continue?”

I gazed at him and appreciated him being so honest. I kind of wanted to talk about it more, because something about the fact that he slept with women as well as men made me like him even more, even though that didn’t make sense. I’d never slept with a woman, so why did it matter that he had? Maybe because I could imagine that I was one of those women and that fulfilled a need I was aware of but had never articulated.

And for some reason, I couldn’t leave it alone.

“Do you… Do you prefer women?”

Alastair blinked at me. He slowly shook his head as he gazed at me with real affection. “Not at all. In fact,” he said, gaze going back to the corset that wrapped me, “I’m starting to think that gorgeous men in feminine clothes are really what turns my crank.”

I couldn’t help a shy and surprised smile from forming as Alastair returned to the work of removing my corset. What was he doing to me?

As the pressure of the boned garment lessened and disappeared altogether, the absence of the corset’s structure and compression made me feel more vulnerable and naked, even though the thin chemise still covered me. I lifted onto my elbows as Mr. Kenney tugged the splayed material from under me and tossed it to the pile of things collecting on the floor by the bed.

He gazed at me with dark, aroused eyes and an expression of wonder.

“What?” I asked, my voice a damsel’s whisper.

He shook his head. “You just look very delicate and…so, so pretty, Toby. Is it okay that I find you very feminine?”

“No, I don’t mind,” I said, because it was true. “I’m probably non-binary…or at least gender fluid. I just don’t make a big deal out of it, you know?”

After I said it, I wondered if coming out was wise in this situation, when we were only going to be spending a few hours awake together then heading our separate ways. But he had said I was feminine and admitted to sleeping with women. I wanted to be just as forthcoming. And anyway, it was too late, because I’d done it.

He gave me a sober look.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said.

Well. I hadn’t expected that.

“You’re…you’re welcome?”

He laughed. “Toby, I don’t think you realize how fucking adorable you are to me.”

“Like…like a puppy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Obviously not like a puppy. Don’t be ridiculous.” Then he side-eyed me. “Although, I could see you in a leather hood with a rubber tale coming out of your ass.”

I almost choked on my tongue as my arousal went up to Code Red.

“Fuck…” I said, my eyes wide, as a wicked and entirely unrepentant smile formed on Alastair’s handsome face.

He sighed. “But right now, you look completely angelic in this blousy thing… I don’t know what it’s called.”

He pinched a bit of the sheer cotton in his fingers.

“It’s a chemise.” I eyed him carefully. “You know, I’m trying to figure out if you have some kind of ulterior motive, beyond getting me into a hotel room and under your thumb, which is already happening, so you can stop with all the pretty words, you know. I’m kind of a sure thing at this point.”

Alastair drew back, looking horrified, which honestly pained my heart, and I wanted to take everything back.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to… Do I sound like I’m manipulating you?” he asked, holding himself up on his hands and gazing down at me with a comforting amount of regret.

“No, no. I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know you all that well, and…”

He raised his eyebrows as I stroked the fingers of both hands along his very attractive forearms to assure him I was still into it…him…everything that was happening.

“Alastair, I’m having a fantastic time. I’m just waiting for…for something bad to happen,” I confessed.

“Is this a good time to tell you that I’m working for the Russians?”

The line was delivered in such a deadpan way that I almost believed him.

“What?” I said, my blood going cold.

He laughed. “Toby, I’m not.”

“Well, duh. I think?” I narrowed my eyes and let my hands fall, palms up, to the mattress. “How the hell would I know?”

“Oh, Toby, Toby, Toby,” Alastair murmured, lifting his hand to stroke my cheek. “How can you be so adorable?”

I gave him a weak smile, because I didn’t fucking know. “Years of practice?”

He smoothed the cotton fabric of the chemise, and the heel of his hand bumped my now-full erection. I grunted in response and blinked up at him benignly.

“Hmm. I see you’ve rallied, despite your misgivings.”

“I don’t have misgivings. And, yeah, I rallied. I’m not a one-trick pony, you know.”

He rubbed his palm over my cock where it stood beneath the delicate cotton of my shift.

“Oh…fuck,” I moaned, closing my eyes. Then opening them. “Wait.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you want a blow job…or something? I feel bad that I’m on my second helping and you haven’t even had your first.”

“Oh, Toby. I feel like I’m still savoring the appetizer, to be honest. Or are you getting tired?”

“No! Not at all. But, uh, I’d be willing,” I said, batting my eyelashes and running my tongue over my bottom lip so he could see what I had to work with.

He smiled, considering. Deciding if he wanted that, or if he wanted to keep doing what he was doing. I had no objections either way.

“Okay,” he said, after a long moment.

“Yeah?”

“I think so. Stick out your tongue again.”

I laughed and stuck my tongue out as far as it would go, the obedient boy toy to Alastair’s demands.

“Well, okay. Something tells me you know how to use that.”

“Are you saying I’m a slut?”

“Of course not.” He gave me a look, and I felt suitably chastened. “I’m saying you’re probably talented—and I’d like to find out.”

He gave me room so I could sit up, the gauzy chemise covering all my randy bits as I scooched toward him. He looked so hot kneeling there with his arms crossed, waiting for me. I went onto my hands and knees and reached for him.

“Oh God,” he moaned as I slid two fingers into a belt loop and tugged him forward. He unfolded his arms to steady himself as I worked at unbuckling his belt.

“What do you have inside your pants, Mr. Kenney? I’m dying to find out,” I said, running a hand over the bulge in front and gasping at the size and solidity beneath.

“I can’t wait to show you,” he breathed, one hand going to my head and the other pulling his belt out of the loops with practiced ease. He threw it to the floor and watched me unbutton and unzip him, his mouth open and his breaths coming in short puffs.

His cock strained against the cotton of his black boxer briefs where a dark spot was spreading. At the sight of it, a jolt of arousal shot down my spine and into my balls.

“I can smell you,” I said, in a breathy, sex-kitten voice that I sincerely hoped he appreciated.

His cock jerked. “I can smell us.”

We stared at each other as I tugged at the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down over his healthy erection. His cock bounced free—a lovely, average-sized specimen—smooth and juicy. It was just the right size—big enough to make me catch my breath in anticipation rather than terror. Just the right amount of girth on it and about five inches long. Perfect.

“Are you measuring my cock, Toby?”

“Um. No,” I lied.

He didn’t fall for it. “Well? Do you think it will fit?”

“Sure it’ll— Wait a minute. I said I didn’t want you to fuck me, remember?”

He grinned and snorted a laugh. “Gotcha.”

“Very funny.” I examined his penis, tilting my head. “It’s a little on the small side, if I’m being honest.” It wasn’t.

He winked. “No, it’s not. And size does matter, at least a little. Any guy who says different is lying.”

“You think? Alastair, that’s a very outdated concept, I hate to tell you.”

He wasn’t listening, I didn’t think. Because his hand had wrapped around his cock and his gorgeous eyes had gone half-lidded.

I stared at Alastair’s cock as he let go of it and dropped his hands to his sides, waiting. I wrapped my fingers around the base and leaned forward. Then I licked the bubble of moisture off the top with the flat of my tongue in one long, lazy stroke.

Alastair—Mr. Kenney—made the most delicious sound of surprise and pleasure. Fluid oozed from my own dick as I engulfed his cock, humming and flicking my tongue back and forth.

“Fuuuuck,” Alastair cursed, his fingers tightening in my hair. “Oh fuck. Toby.”

“Mmm?” I said, continuing my attentions.

“That’s so good.” He swallowed. “So good.”

“Mmm.”

He tasted fantastic—so clean, as if he’d washed his bits at some point, too. Was it possible he’d cleaned himself at the club? It did smell like the soap we used, to be honest. I pulled off with a slurp, giving him a look.

“Did you wash your cock at the club?”

“Ohhh, God, why did you stop?” he groaned, wrapping his hand around himself and gazing at me in confusion.

“Because I want to know if you washed your bits at the club. You taste…clean.”

His smile faltered. “I—God, Toby—I wanted to be clean, for you.”

Not a lot of the guys I’d hooked up with in clubs or bars had been thoughtful enough to do something like that. I appreciated it.

I nodded, blinking, trying to wrap my head around it.

“Well…thanks?”

“You’re…welcome?”

“C’mere.” I grabbed his pants and pulled him forward again. This time I went at him in earnest, determined to make him come. I wanted to take him apart, make him scream my name.

“Toby!” he shouted, as I worked him hard and relentlessly.

Achievement unlocked.

I swallowed and sucked…and sucked and swallowed. Alastair groaned and gasped and gaped down at me as I slipped my hands into his pants and grabbed his ass, keeping him deep as I sucked the jizz out of him.

He stuttered curses and my name again as he shot down my throat. I mentally sent out apologies to all the folks trying to sleep in the rooms near ours, and hoped we didn’t get kicked out because of me…because of him…because of how we were together.

I clutched him close, trying not to choke and breathing through my nose. Finally, I let go. He staggered back and tripped over his pants, grunting and cursing as he hit the floor.

“Oh fuck,” I said, scrambling off the bed. “Are you okay?”

He was shaking and making a weird choking noise, and it didn’t take too long to realize he was laughing. I sat back on my heels as he rolled on the floor in the throes of hilarity.

“Wow. I’ve heard of post-orgasmic rage but not post-orgasmic hysteria. I guess this is better?”

“Sorry… I’m sorry.” He gasped for breath as he lay on the floor, on his back, staring up at the chandelier with his pants around his ankles and a broad smile on his face.

“I know this is a fancy hotel and all, but you should probably get off the carpet.” I gestured toward the desk. “God knows what people have done in here.”

“Right, right.” He kicked off his shoes—he still had his shoes on?—pushed his pants and boxer briefs off and stood. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it onto the pile. “Take off your chemise, Toby.” His lips curved in a sweet smile as he gazed at me. “I really want to see what you look like underneath.”

“You do?”

“Duh,” he said, pretending to be me, I guessed. He laughed at my visible delight. “I’m having a really good time, by the way.”

I couldn’t help my broad smile. “Good,” I said. “Me, too, for the record.”

I took the hem of the white chemise between my fingers and drew it up to my waist. Then I waggled my erection at him. “And so is this guy.”

He groaned. “It’s so damn cute! Toby, you’re adorable.”

I gazed down at my swollen dick, then back at Alastair. “Really? You couldn’t go with ‘intimidating’, ‘huge’ or ‘fucking monstrous’?” Of course, it was none of those things, but, you know…

“Your penis is lovely and pretty and sweet, just like you.”

I blinked as warmth suffused me.

“Who the fuck are you? How are you so nice and I only just met you—and you’re the best goddamn hookup I’ve ever had. Then again, I’m only twenty.”

He sat on the bed and put one foot up, cradling his knee between his entwined fingers. “Well, I’m quite a bit older than you,” he said, “and this hookup is”—his gaze landed on me and it seemed like he was going for something very complimentary but then he went with—“right up there.”

He cleared his throat and blushed. His words were a bit of a disappointment, but I tried not to let it show.

“Right up there,” I said. “Hmm. Okay. I’ll take it.”

He nodded, avoiding my gaze. “If it makes you feel better, this is the first time I haven’t gotten kinky with someone and had so much fun.”

Oh. That was…interesting.

“Huh. Is that so?”

His gaze flashed to mine, and he smiled again. “Yeah.”

“How kinky do you usually get with your hookups?” I asked.

He tilted his head and gave me a confused look. “Well, I…usually take them into the back room at Molly’s.”

Oh, right. How had I forgotten that pertinent fact?

“Oh yeah. True,” I said. “So, pretty kinky.”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

This was a one-night stand—a gloriously decadent hookup with a man who liked his sex a-la-carte, kinky and with many different partners. It would behoove me to remember that.

“It’s the best hookup I’ve had in a long time,” he said quietly.

I nodded, dropping the edge of my shift so it covered my erection.

“Toby, come here,” he said, in the same hushed tones, his eyes on mine.

I looked at him as I scratched the back of my neck and wondered if it was time to leave. I was clearly getting caught up in something that was supposed to be a lark. But that meant going back home to my dark little room and a house that smelled like booze, and I couldn’t fucking bear it.

Maybe letting myself feel more for Alastair than I probably should wouldn’t be so bad. I was tough. I’d survive. I’d ride the wave until we parted then I’d be sad, then I’d be fine. It was all good.

I joined him on the bed.

He caught me up in his arms and pulled me into a kiss, like I was the most precious thing in the world. And I have to say, it was addicting, this kind of attention. I let him seduce me and lay me out, and when his hand slipped under my chemise and wrapped around my cock, I didn’t stop him. And when he lay back on the bed and jerked me off while we kissed and whispered sweet things to each other, I pretended we had all the time in the world. And when I came with a shuddering cry in his arms, I promised to remember it with no fucking regrets.