Page 50 of The Gentleman’s Thief

“He’d plotted to use me and then bestow the Staff upon his adored Brothers. Together with Leopold as the beloved conduit, they could use the Staff and its magic. Euan was blamed for the theft of the Staff and the cabal saw its loss as his betrayal.”

“Oh dear!” Cavell exhaled. His eyes were fixed on where our warm hands joined, and he looked shamefaced and embarrassed.

“It appears I’ve behaved like a complete fool!” He conceded.

“I thought you were preparing to end our…arrangement—” I admitted.

Sebastian’s eyes shot up to meet mine. There was fire in those golden hazel eyes. “No! Never!” Sebastian seemed astonished as he said, “Do you not understand what our arrangement means to me—what you mean to me?”

The eye contact between us was full of promise and desire. I could not look away.

“I was a dead man walking before I met you,” I admitted in a small voice. “These past weeks of companionship have given me life, Sebastian. I need you to understand…I hold you in the highest possible regard.” My voice was passionate and shaky as I unburdened my heart. I had not said those words—meant those words in so very long. The awareness of their true meaning hit me, like brushing the cobwebs from a window to see dazzling sunlight.

“I think… I think…I might be falling in love with you.” I felt Sebastian’s shudder run through where our hands clasped.

“But…I am an undeserving thief, and you are far too good a soul for the likes of me.” He said in disbelief.

“Let me be the judge of that! I can see past the disguises and the acts of derring-do. You are a brilliant, intelligent man, and you have shown me such thoughtfulness, and affection. The hours I’ve spent alone with you—” I paused seeking the courage to go on, for I had never expressed myself so completely to a paramour.

“Those times are my most treasured memories. Do you understand? It’s you I think of each night before I sleep. It is you, and not Euan Ardmillan.” I clutched Sebastian’s hands tighter.

“He never made me feel the way you make me feel. To Euan, I was needy and wrong for caring about him. You, my dear, dear Sebastian have taught me what it is like… to be loved.”

Sebastian brought my trembling hands to his mouth and laid soft, warm, kisses on my fingers. I unclasped my hands and reached up to grip his clean-shaven face. I looked at him, wide-eyed and wondrous. How could this handsome devil be mine? I pulled Sebastian to meet my hungry lips. Our kiss was so passionate it felt like the heat we generated would lay waste to the land around us. I burned for Sebastian and he burned for me.

Sebastian fisted his fingers in my inky curls, dragged my head back to expose my throat, and devour me.

“Christ, I love you Benedict, love you, love you, love you—” Sebastian sighed out those velvet words between each kiss, nip, and lick. I was startled by his fervor and by my body’s response—my prick rigid and standing to attention in my pyjamas in the space of a breath. Other parts of my body were not so responsive. I was still on my knees and they ached abominably, distracting me from surrendering to Sebastian’s attention completely.

“Wait!” I said gently as I pulled away. “I am an old man, and I fear my knees will crumble if I kneel any longer”, Sebastian rested his brow on my shoulder and huffed out a laugh. He looked up his eyes full of mirth and affection.

“To the bed?” He suggested.

“No,” I whispered. “I have allowed a snake into my home and I do not trust he is not listening this very moment.” I leaned my palms on Sebastian’s thighs and levered myself up from the floor. I noted then that he wore silky garments of the purest black. They clung to his form outlining his musculature. This outfit must be his sneak thief uniform. I imagined that on the street he could be at one with the shadows and remain unseen.

I put a finger to his lips and said “Shhh”. Then I strode to my bookcase.

Darkest Secrets

Sebastian followed me to the bookcase and pressed himself behind me, the heat of his body radiating so hot I could feel him through my cotton pyjamas. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and with his mouth to my ear, whispered,

“Did you want a bedtime story instead of a good fucking?”

On the fourth shelf up there was a first edition of My Secret Life-The Sex Diary of a Victorian Gentleman, by Anonymous. I had furtively purchased the volume when it was first published in 1888. There was such scandal about the contents and the identity of the anonymous author, who was believed to be from the higher echelons of polite society. Although the exploits of the protagonist, Walter, were not to my taste I understood that the volume would be most sought after in the future, and was an excellent investment.

I slid the book from the shelf and then eased my hand into the gap. I clasped the hidden doorknob and twisted. I saw no need for a key to my secret room as no one knew of its existence—until now. The bookcase swung forward on its wheeled track, the hinges silent. I released the knob, replaced the book, and then turned in Sebastian’s arms to see the surprise and delight written all over his face. He told me once before that he was drawn to secret things, and especially enjoyed witnessing a man’s undoing. I now understood what he meant.

I grasped Sebastian’s hand, let the bookcase door swing fully open, and led my lover into the darkness—into my most secret place.

“The room has been fully sound-proofed. We could scream bloody murder in here and my servants would be none the wiser.” I informed as I closed the door and switched the light on. The gasp I heard from Sebastian as my collection was illuminated gave me a tickle of illicit pleasure.

The square room was originally designed as a ladies dressing room, however, on purchasing the house twenty years ago, I ordered that the room be gutted and fitted out to my requirements. The walls of my secret room were dressed in a glorious red flock velvet design, with ornate crystal wall sconces, and cabinets displaying my prized collection—and at its centerpiece The Staff of Asklepios! The floor was laid with a luxurious carpet as I liked the feel of it against the naked soles of my feet. There was a built-in closet that hid a basin for when I needed to wash. Apart from that, there was little furniture. The room was for one use only—secret, sinful self-abuse.

A wide chaise-longue in green silk brocade faced my display of ancient phalluses, and to the left, an oak cabinet held my favorite tipples—Brandy, Port wine, and Whiskey! The cabinet also held jars of oils and unguents for lubrication, a red box labeled Young’s Improved Rectal Dilators, and several dildos in hard rubber, carved wood, and ivory.

This room was where I could be my secret self, where my desire was released, and hidden from everyone, even God. Having a partner here with me in my deeply personal space, I realized I was now at Sebastian’s mercy. That fact made me feel at once vulnerable, and elated.

I turned to meet Sebastian’s look of astonishment. “You are the only one who has ever been granted permission to come inside,” I informed.