Too Many Beds at Crofton Hall

Too Many Beds at Crofton Hall

Rebecca Cohen

E van was not a man to be cowed, nor would he be spoken to as if he was filth under someone’s shoe. “I take exception to being talked to in such a manner, Trafford.”

The blond-haired lobcock sneered. “That’s Lord Trafford to the likes of you. A bastard is not worthy of occupying the same space as me and I will speak to you accordingly.”

Albert Pine might have been Marquess of Trafford but Evan’s father outranked him. The problem being while his father had seen him well set-up financially, he’d never officially claimed him. So being the illegitimate son of a foreign prince was enough ammunition for arseholes like Trafford to think they could do as they pleased and refer to him as if he were vermin.

Maybe if he’d had one less glass of wine he might not have swung his fist but it was debatable. Trafford staggered backwards but recovered from being caught off guard and lunged at Evan in retaliation. Before he could land another punch he was being pulled away. Trafford’s friend held him firm but the man who had Evan caught around the chest was their host for the evening, Jeremiah Redbourn, Earl of Crofton, and a man Evan would have loved to have been in this position with, albeit in a private setting.

“Mr Davidson, calm yourself.”

Jeremiah was strong despite being at least twenty-five years Evan’s senior. He had no chance of breaking out of his grip. Evan had never had the opportunity to be this close to Jeremiah but his reputation of not giving a damn what people thought of him, or his wanton pursuits, made Evan want to show Jeremiah he knew how to behave.

“I will not sully my knuckles on Trafford’s jaw again, Lord Crofton.”

“I am pleased to hear it, I wouldn’t want to eject you from Crofton Hall.” Jeremiah let go. “How about you come with me for a quiet drink? To let your blood cool… over this matter at least.”

Evan saw Jeremiah smirk, the fire dancing in his eyes, and he was quick to follow, leaving the long gallery where the scuffle had taken place. Lady Crofton gave him the most deliberate up-and-down look as they passed and then winked at her husband. Evan wondered if he was missing something.

He was being led away from the raucous areas of the hall. The Earl of Crofton’s parties were known as being lively and his reputation only heightened people’s desires to attend. This had been Evan’s first invitation, and he didn’t want it to be his last. “I hope I did not cause offence,” he said as he was ushered into a sitting room on the first floor.

“I am not a man who is easily offended.” Jeremiah offered Evan a drink, which Evan accepted. “And if I am not mistaken neither are you.”

Evan wasn’t aware Jeremiah knew him well enough to make such a statement. They had met a few times but nothing that suggested a deep knowledge of each other. “I suppose that depends on what’s said.”

Jeremiah sat on a Chesterfield sofa and patted the seat next to him. Evan swallowed thickly and followed suit. He’d been harbouring a desire for Jeremiah for several months, and the more he heard about his ways the more Evan wanted to see if the stories were true.

“I am going to speak plainly—there are times for soft words and delicate actions and this is not it. Evan, I want you to be honest with me, do you think you can?”

There were a lot of things Evan would do if Jeremiah asked. “Yes.”

“Good lad. Now, I am a perceptive man, I notice what goes on around me, and I have seen you hold a fascination for me.”

Jeremiah wasn’t wrong, and Evan wondered how best to play this game. He had no doubt there were societal rules around this sort of conversation, but they appeared to be writing new ones as they spoke. Evan knew he was an attractive man, had taken several lovers, knew how to please both women and men and wanted the chance to show off his skills to Jeremiah.

Evan leant forwards. “I am more than just fascinated.”

“I am pleased to hear that. But I don’t let any old Tom, Dick or Harry play with me. You would have to earn your place in my bed.”

“Do you want my credentials?” he asked, licking his lips for good measure. “I can provide testimonials from satisfied partners.”

Jeremiah chuckled. “You are a bold thing, I approve. But the blessings of others are irrelevant.”

“Then what would you want of me?”

“A game. And not tonight, but at your next visit, a simple test. You want to spend a night in my bed, all you have to do is find it.”

Evan frowned. He had no idea what Jeremiah meant. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Crofton Hall has many beds, some might say too many. I will set up a little adventure for you, and if you solve the clues, I will let you have the pleasure of spending time in my bed. And I promise, if you are bright enough to find me, I will make it worth your while. I might go so far as to say, you may never wish to leave but you won’t be allowed to stay.”

Evan was all for a night of fun, but he had no interest in anything more than a one-time thing. Jeremiah had a circle of lovers, but new additions were temporary and Evan would be happy to experience whatever was on offer. “I look forward to receiving your invitation. Although, I would like a sample to ensure that your offered prize is as good as you allude to.”

Jeremiah’s nostrils flared and Evan wondered if he had misjudged the amount of bravado to lay on. “Come here.”

His voice sent a delightful shiver up Evan’s spine and he felt compelled to comply. He leant in and Jeremiah reached out then cupped his cheek, his hand warm and thrilling. Evan licked his lips, being this close to Jeremiah was intoxicating. His hazel eyes sparkled and Evan felt as if he were caught in a spell he never wanted to break.

Jeremiah brushed his lips across Evan’s, it was the barest of touches and the tickle of his moustache thrilled him. Evan tried to deepen the kiss but Jeremiah chuckled and moved away.

Evan sat dazed as Jeremiah stood. “I look forward to your next visit, Evan. There’s a masquerade ball in a few weeks, I think that might be the best opportunity.”

“A few weeks?” he croaked. He thought he might explode if he had to wait so long.

“Yes. Patience is a virtue. And once I’m done with you, it might be the only one you have left.”

C larissa picked an imaginary speck of dust from off Evan’s lapel. “I dare say you’ll pass. You do make a rather fine Napoleonic soldier.”

After three long weeks, he had received the invitation he’d been so desperate for, but he had not expected Jeremiah to have stipulated his costume. “I daresay there are worse things I could go as, but I can’t say I’m particularly comfortable being dressed this way.”

His cousin rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I think you can never be happy.”

“I am more than happy, I just would prefer not to be so stiffly dressed.”

“You know I do worry about you, Evan. First you broke your engagement with Bea, then you refused to court Jaqueline, and now you are getting friendly with a gentleman whose reputation is somewhat risqué.”

“We can’t all be well-settled. But you must see it would not be fair for any young woman to be shackled to me. I haven’t got it in me to be devoted to one individual for any real amount of time. Better for me to stay a committed bachelor than risk ruining the life of a dear girl like Bea.”

Beatrice Myers was too good a soul for the likes of him, and he’d been delighted to hear she had mended her broken heart and was now engaged to the Earl of Cleveland.

Clarissa clicked her tongue. “That does not explain your interest in Jeremiah Redbourn.”

“It’s not as if I can bring shame upon my father, he’d have to admit I was his to begin with. Besides, I am still young, some fun will serve me well.”

She handed him his mask. “Just be careful, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

He kissed her cheek as he left. He’d been staying with Clarissa and her husband at their townhouse in Hertford, and a carriage would take him to Crofton Hall. The distance being less than twenty miles gave him plenty of time with no need to rush. He passed the journey reading, once again enjoying the spoils of his father’s fortune as he had no need to share his transport.

He’d spent his childhood moving between boarding schools and houses like Crofton Hall, never considering himself to have missed out on anything, as his peers saw as much of their parents as he did, so when his carriage drew up outside the beautiful red brick Elizabethan stately home, it had an air of familiarity beyond him having visited before.

A footman opened the door to his carriage. “His lordship asked me to remind all guests that masks are compulsory from the outset, sir.”

Evan had no problem tying his mask in place, it covered most of his face, as he had been instructed to ensure. “Better?”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll arrange for your luggage to be taken to your room. Please follow me, all guests are mingling in the great hall for drinks before the pre-dinner games.”

When he’d been promised fun and games, he’d hoped they would be a more private affair, but he was one of a hundred guests in the great hall and he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Everyone was wearing a mask. He suspected he would be able to identify some of the people once he spoke to them, and several were easy enough to guess by their build alone, but in the main, he would not know who he was talking to. What he did notice was while there were other historical costumes he was the only one in the specific uniform he’d been instructed to wear.

He wasn’t the sort to be shy, and with an ample measure of red wine in one hand he joined a lively circle of guests who seemed to be enjoying themselves. He recognised one of the voices as the Marques of Somerset who was an interesting chap with a fondness for faeries. Before he had the chance to give his opinion on a particularly juicy titbit he’d heard at a party in Mayfair, a hand curled around his elbow. “May I have a moment, sir?”

The hand belonged to a woman dressed as Bo Peep, or that was what he assumed as she was holding a shepherd’s crook and wore a featureless white porcelain mask. She didn’t give him a chance to answer and instead guided him over to the side.

“My name is Diana. Lord Crofton instructed me to give you this.” From her cleavage, which was quite lovely, she withdrew a slip of paper. “He said he hoped you were up to the challenge. And let me tell you, if you are, you’ll enjoy your reward.”

She must be one of Jeremiah’s collection of lovers. From what Evan knew, Jeremiah had two permanent mistresses, and two gentlemen friends, who all lived at the hall alongside Lady Crofton who was a lot younger than Jeremiah and had born him a son earlier in the year after giving him two daughters previously. As far as he could tell, all involved were happy with the situation, or at least he’d not heard complaints, and Jeremiah had several other female children from his mistresses through the years.

He took the piece of paper. “Is this a treasure map?”

“After a fashion.” She laughed and returned to the throng of guests. A man wearing a Harlequin costume and a blank white mask came to greet her with a glass of wine.

He left the great hall, and entered an empty corridor where he unfolded the paper. It wasn’t a map but instead a message. Jeremiah had alluded to an adventure although Evan had thought it more bravado than anything else, but it appeared Jeremiah was serious about Evan having to earn a place in his bed.

No one gets an easy path to my bed. Solve the clues and find the treasures to demonstrate your worth, and I will ensure you receive a welcome that fulfils your desires.

First up, retrieve an old friend of mine without disturbing some of my new ones. He might be a crocodile in a fine scaly hide, but he must be wearing a bowtie freshly acquired from a willing playmate.

Friends in white masks will help.

J

Evan’s brow crumpled as he re-read the letter, and wondered if all the sex Jeremiah had partaken in had addled his mind.

A man appeared at his side, he wasn’t wearing a costume but instead wore tailored evening dress. “We’re all delighted you’re here, Evan. I’ll be pleased to assist you in your quest.”

He held up the piece of paper. “I need to find a crocodile.”

“I understand you need to find more than that, and I might be willing to help on both counts.”

Evan cleared his throat. “That’s rather sporting of you.”

“Team sporting endeavours are highly appreciated at Crofton Hall.” He reached out and stroked Evan’s arm. “While tonight you’ll mainly be playing with the captain, you’ll get to experience a taste of what some of the rest of the squad can do.”

Evan realised this was Clive, one of Jeremiah’s favourites and a keen footballer playing for Tottenham Hotspur before being injured at the end of the previous season. “I will bear that in mind. So what about this reptile?”

“He’s quite a charming specimen, and a real favourite around the hall. When he was younger, Jeremiah was bequeathed a crocodile from the estate of the Duke of Pembrokeshire, supposedly caught during His Grace’s expedition to Africa. Let’s just say that a number of ‘unworldly incidents’ befell visitors to Crofton Hall after the arrival of the crocodile. Although my personal favourite is the one with the youngest son of the local magistrate who was found half-naked asleep under the bed in a spare bedroom, with strange markings around his torso that resembled bite marks. Jeremiah put forward the explanation that the crocodile often gave out a strange vapour that could bend an impressionable young mind and caused the lad to act out of character.”

Evan laughed. Jeremiah’s reputation of a rogue was well-earned, and those bite marks had not come from any crocodile.

“Follow me,” Clive said. “There are clues that will help you on your way and find the bed Mr Scales has taken for the evening. In addition, you can ask me up to five questions which will help you locate our friend. But you can’t ask me a direct question about where Mr Scales is.”

Evan suspected the crocodile’s name wasn’t going to be the strangest thing. He concentrated on the dashing figure Clive cut in his eveningwear as he led Evan out of the great hall. He didn’t know Crofton Hall well enough to ask questions about specific rooms but from his previous visit, he had a reasonable grasp of its layout and should be able to narrow down the crocodile’s location with a couple of general but useful guesses. “Would Mr Scales be enjoying a view of the lawn and be able to see the lake?”

Clive chuckled. “Yes.”

Evan was pleased with himself as the answer meant a room on the west side at the rear and if someone wanted to see the lake they would need to be above ground level so he would need to go up a floor. He took the stairs and headed across the long gallery, coming to a halt at the start of the west wing. Clive had said there would be clues, and the questions were extra and Evan wondered what a clue relating to finding a stuffed crocodile might look like.

The walls were wood-panelled and there were more paintings and antiques than in some London museums. A green vase sitting on a plinth caught his eye and it appeared on closer inspection to be decorated with scales. It stood in front of an archway and he took it as a sign to head in that direction and into another corridor where a large painting of a crocodile stared him in the face. “Is that Mr Scales?”

“No, you’re after a real stuffed crocodile, but that fellow is giving you a bit of a hint.”

The snout pointed towards a door and it seemed as good an option as anything else. He charged through and there sitting in the middle of the bed was a slightly charred, three-foot-long crocodile. “Mr Scales, I presume.”

“The one and only, or at least I hope there’s not another one because no house, not even one as big as Crofton Hall, needs two stuffed crocodiles.”

Evan smiled, although Clive wouldn’t have been able to see it. “I am still in need of a bowtie.”

Clive beckoned him closer with a finger. “You can have mine, but you’re going to have to remove it yourself. No hands though.”

He laughed but was happy to play along. “I’m going to have to remove my mask.”

“You’re a lovely-looking chap, there’s no hardship for me there either.”

He took off his mask and moved closer. Clive’s cologne was rich and spicy and Evan’s nostrils flared. After tonight he might seek Clive out to explore their chemistry further. He was one of Jeremiah’s lovers but didn’t appear to have any compunction about spending time with others. Evan nuzzled closer and grasped the tip of Clive’s bowtie between his teeth and pulled. The tie unravelled and he felt a thrill race through him, his cock stiffening.

With a huge amount of willpower, Evan stepped away and held the thin strip of material aloft. “Thank you.”

“I think Mr Scales would look very dapper if he were to wear that.”

He laughed as he tied the bowtie around the crocodile’s neck. “Never has there been such a well-dressed reptile.”

Clive held out a piece of paper. “You haven’t time to hang around. On to the second clue.”

Evan had wondered where he would be heading next and should have known Jeremiah would have had everything planned out. He took the piece of paper:

There is a noble knight who protects Crofton Hall. Give him a hand, and later I might give you one as a reward.

J

Clive sauntered away. “Don’t be a stranger, Evan.”

Evan enjoyed the view of Clive’s very fine form as he left and then returned his attention to the clue. The Redbourns were an old family, and he supposed there might be all sorts of references to knights throughout the hall. He was sure there were at least three paintings but given the clue for Mr Scales, he thought Jeremiah wouldn’t be the type to repeat himself. From recollection, there was a suit of armour on the long gallery and thought that might be his best option. He suspected Jeremiah wouldn’t want to make the clues too difficult, as Evan might be after a prize but he wouldn’t be the only one enjoying the reward.

He replaced his mask and picked up Mr Scales, not caring what he might look like carrying a small crocodile under his arm, and went in search of the noble knight. There were several guests in the hallways as he made his way through the house, the sight of him and Mr Scales turned a few heads, but seeing as the majority of people he passed were couples searching for a quiet space to have some fun, no one’s interest lingered on him for too long.

Halfway down the long gallery, he spotted his quarry, a splendid suit of armour complete with a magnificent, but unlikely to be historically accurate, red plume. He stood in front of it and wondered what he needed to do now he was there. The note had said to give him a hand, but he didn’t understand.

He stiffened as someone pressed themselves against his back. “Seems you aren’t just a pretty face.” The voice was deep and went straight to Evan’s cock.

“I’m not the sort to back down from a challenge either.”

“Is that right? Pity Sir Gruesolot is not the knight of the realm I had in mind, but I like your thinking.”

Evan couldn’t think let alone reply as a delicious chuckle accompanied a hand sliding onto his hip.

“You think you’re worthy of the delights Crofton Hall has to offer?”

“I’m more than happy to prove myself,” he croaked.

His head spun with a rush of desire as the hand on his hip moved to cup his cock over his trousers. “You’re certainly a handful. I’ll look forward to testing this later.”

Only then did he realise it was Jeremiah and he wanted to turn around and beg him to fuck him. He was hard and desperate and as much as he liked the thrill of the chase he loved the idea of being fucked into a mattress even more.

“Why wait?”

“Because you agreed to the game, and I like to ensure people I take to my bed are able to follow the rules.”

Then he was gone and Evan almost lost his balance. He turned around not knowing where Jeremiah was, or how he could have disappeared into thin air.

A woman approached him, her plunging neckline not one Queen Victoria would’ve approved of and was more of the fashion two centuries earlier. “Are you perturbed, Mr Davidson?”

Evan was still trying to spot where Jeremiah could have gone. “I’m looking for someone.”

He saw the swell of her belly, she had to be at least six months pregnant, and if she was part of the game then this was Isabelle, the second of Jeremiah’s mistresses. He wondered who was the father. Jeremiah’s heir was just a few months old. Baby Joshua was the first male child, although Jeremiah had other daughters than those by his wife. He might be the father of the bump, but it wasn’t guaranteed.

“You’ll get to find him when you’re ready,” she said with a smile.

“I’d like to think I’m ready now.”

“You haven’t even completed the second clue.” She took his arm. “Some might say I need a helping hand.”

“I’m not sure if I can help a pregnant woman.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure what you think I need help with but there is someone who does, and he’s the hall’s favourite knight. How’s your knotwork?”

“I beg your pardon?” He’d not drunk enough to have his hearing affected but he didn’t understand what she was asking.

“You’ll see. So far you’ve discovered only one bed, and Crofton Hall has many… one of which has an occupant with a very knotty problem.”

For a pregnant woman, she was quick on her feet and he was surprised when she pressed part of a piece of wood panelling and a door swung open to reveal a secret passageway. “Leave Mr Scales with Sir Gruesolot, they’ll protect each other. This way, Mr Davidson.”

Evan popped Mr Scales on the floor next to the pair of armoured feet and patted his head. His escort was already heading into the walls and he was quick to catch up. He’d been in several secret passageways in his time and had a lot of fun doing so, but he’d seen no indication that his guide was interested in them getting close for a few minutes, and Evan was not the type to cross a line.

“My gratitude for showing me the way,” he said as they emerged into a new corridor. He wasn’t sure where he was.

“My pleasure, Mr Davidson. Oh, and you can call me Missy.”

So this wasn’t Isabelle, and Evan was shocked that Missy was involved as she was Jeremiah’s oldest daughter. “You must excuse me asking, but are you involved in the game?”

She snorted. “Not in the way you might have thought when I first approached, but my father thinks I have an instinctive sense for recognising arseholes. My husband would not be happy if he thought you were insinuating I wanted to play with you.”

“I was just checking, not insinuating anything. I swear.” He did not want to get into trouble with angry husbands when he hadn’t done anything to deserve an altercation.

“And you’re such a sweet thing for doing so. You would have had ample opportunity to have got up to no good in those secret passages and you were a complete gentleman. My father will be happy to hear so.”

“That sounds as if you do not encounter many gentlemen.”

“They are much rarer than you would think, and boundaries and respect are important at Crofton Hall.” She took his hand. “This way. And I would remind you that you are to save yourself for the lord of the manor.”

He wondered what she meant by that but all was revealed as she opened the door into a new room. “Have fun, but heed what I said.”

He entered the room, Missy waving him off as she left, chuckling to herself.

Evan blinked several times to ensure he wasn’t seeing things and drank in what was waiting for him. Tied to the bed was a glorious male specimen, naked and spread-eagled, each limb secured by red silk. Other ribbons wrapped around him in intricate patterns of knots and material crisscrossing his body, arranged to hide his modesty but there was not much left to the imagination. He was also blindfolded and gagged.

Evan’s fingers itched to touch, but he was also keen to ensure his new friend was aware of who was here to play, and that he was happy it was Evan and wasn’t expecting another visitor.

“I’m going to untie your gag for you to answer a couple of questions. I’ll put it back if I’m satisfied with the answers.” Evan removed the gag. “Who are you expecting?”

“Mr Evan Davidson,” he replied. He licked his lips. “Just so you know, I’m very much here of my own volition. But I am in desperate need of a hand, or at least one part of me is.”

Evan glanced down his body to his prominent bulge. “Oh, right.”

“My name’s George.”

The penny dropped. This was Jeremiah’s long-term male partner, Sir George Milton, who was said to be the one Jeremiah loved, beyond anyone, and the clue made sense now as he was the hall’s favourite knight. If George didn’t agree to someone being allowed to join in the games then that person wouldn’t be welcome. He was in his forties, hair starting to grey at his temples but his body was strong and lithe as any man Evan had been with. The idea of being made part of a sandwich between George and Jeremiah made him want more than one night. But that wasn’t on offer. First Clive, now George, it was as if Jeremiah was showing off his collection.

“So you are the brave knight of Crofton Hall. I must admit I did wonder how I could help a suit of armour.”

George wriggled his hips, his cock straining the silk ribbons. “If you’re willing I’m in need of special care. I hope you’ve warm hands.”

“Fuck me,” Evan muttered, not sure what he’d done to deserve such a pleasure.

“Maybe another time. If Jeremiah is pleased with your performance.”

“I didn’t think you offered more than one night to someone outside your circle.” And even a few hours ago he wouldn’t have been interested but there was something about Crofton Hall and her people that made him think he would like to be a regular visitor.

“True. Now, put the gag back on and work your magic. I’m hard and desperate.”

He did as he was told and decided he wanted to savour the gift he’d been given. He danced his fingers across the patterns of the silk, loving the way George writhed under his touch. Judging from his muffled moans he was enjoying the attention. Evan’s own cock was hard and it was a delicious torment to know he could touch George, bring him his release but have to wait for his own reward.

The ribbon covering George’s cock could no longer contain him, Evan wrapped his hand around George’s shaft and guided it to freedom. His impressive cock stood proud from a dark thatch of curls and contrasted with the red silk. George keened as Evan began to pump him. He was a good length and had a nice girth and Evan would have liked to have done more than give him a hand job. For a moment he thought to use his mouth but he thought he would need to keep that pleasure for Jeremiah.

Evan squeezed his cock through his trousers, giving him just enough of a jolt to stop getting too excited. Watching George come undone as he stroked his cock was a tantalising treat. George’s hips began to buck and Evan sped up the pace. He knew how to pleasure a man in this fashion, and had enjoyed plenty of quick assignations in dark corners to know what to do. He changed the angle, gripped a little tighter and watched as George succumbed to his orgasm with spurts of pearly cum. Evan wiped his hand on the linens.

George’s breathing was ragged around his gag so Evan removed it and was greeted with a wide smile. “You have the most talented hands, Mr Davidson.”

“Do you want me to untie you?”

George chuckled. “No, I’m in here for a while. You were a wonderful warm-up.”

He wondered who was coming next, and he felt a little jealous, wanting to kiss George, but he was sure that wouldn’t be allowed. “Should I go then?” He glanced around the room. “I don’t see another clue.”

“Head downstairs, have a drink and ready yourself. You won’t need to wait long.”

Evan did as he was told, although he didn’t want a break in proceedings. He wanted to find Jeremiah, fall to his knees and beg to be taken in any way Jeremiah deemed fit. He was hard from his interaction with George, which was on top of his encounter with Clive. Back in the great hall, the party was in full swing. Evan grabbed a glass of wine, downed it in one and collected another.

He scanned the other guests but couldn’t recognise anyone, and no one wore the plain masks of the players. Perhaps he hadn’t been good enough, and Jeremiah had decided not to extend his invitation.

From the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching, wearing the white mask and the uniform of a Napoleonic soldier, but at a higher rank than the one Evan had been requested to wear. He didn’t think it was a coincidence.

The soldier stopped in front of Evan. “I have received very good news about your conduct, Captain. Such high standards deserve a reward.”

He hadn’t seen what Jeremiah had been wearing earlier, but knowing he was dressed as a commanding officer made his cock harden to full salute.

“I have already been dedicated to my duties, sir. If you are so inclined, would you like to see my abilities firsthand?”

“Best not to rely on secondary sources, when I can see with my own eyes, and touch with my own hands. No matter how trustworthy my informants are.”

He wanted Jeremiah’s hands on him so badly he could burst, and George and Clive must’ve sung his praises. “I put myself at your disposal.”

Evan was an experienced man, liked to think he was a well-versed and considerate lover but in the presence of Jeremiah he felt like a virgin who was about to be schooled. Part of him thought he should be appalled but the rest of him wanted to obey. He’d loved his experience at Crofton Hall so far, but this was why he was here, to spend the night in the Earl of Crofton’s bed, and as he might only get one shot at it, he would relish every minute.

“Then fall into step, Captain, and we’ll discuss your reward.”

Jeremiah didn’t say another word to him until he opened a door to reveal a large bedroom, the biggest Evan had seen so far, with a glorious four-poster bed to match.

“I do have some rules for people who enter my private rooms, Evan. And before we become better acquainted, I expect you to agree to them.”

At this point, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t say if it meant Jeremiah would fuck him.

“Of course.”

Jeremiah took off his mask and threw it to the side. “Off with yours. I want to see your face as we talk.”

Evan didn’t want to do much talking but he removed his mask and Jeremiah flung it in the direction of his own.

“A word of advice, you must not let your cock make promises which you may come to regret.” Jeremiah chuckled. “You are a trusting soul, more than I realised. You are lucky my rules are there to ensure my lover’s pleasure and prevent misconceptions.”

Evan would have never considered himself too trusting but Jeremiah was right in that he was allowing his desperation to forge his path.

“But I wouldn’t be here if your reputation was that of a bastard. Trusting you to treat me well is not a poor choice based on nothing.”

Jeremiah fixed him with a look that made Evan snap his mouth shut—now was not the time to argue.

“As pleased as I am to hear that you feel me worthy of such trust, you will listen carefully. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeremiah smirked and Evan was delighted he’d pleased him. “Good boy. Now there’s nothing arduous or terrible. I merely expect you to do as you are told, but if I ask you to do something you do not wish to do because it makes you uncomfortable, or if I hurt you, you make it clear and I will stop. Agreed?”

He could do that, although the mention of pain made him a little wary. “Yes sir. May I speak?”

“Go on.”

“I’m not a fan of pain.” He waited to hear the response.

“Then I will not inflict it.” He held Evan’s hand. “Tonight is all about enjoyment and delight. Which is why you need to say if it stops being so.”

“I will. Thank you.” Jeremiah was more than living up to his reputation and he hadn’t even started yet.

“Now I’m satisfied you understand my rules, we can begin. Strip down then present yourself on all fours in the centre of the bed so I can confirm your condition.”

Despite every instinct to remove his clothes as fast as he could, Evan knew he would entertain Jeremiah far more if he put on a show.

Carefully, he unfastened each button of the dress uniform’s jacket, working down from the high neck to his waist. Jeremiah sat in a wingback chair, watching, his smouldering gaze full of promise. Next were his boots and socks, leaving him in his undershirt and trousers—something he hoped would please Jeremiah further.

He lowered his braces over his shoulders and hitched his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers, either side of the fly.

“Shirt next,” Jeremiah commanded.

Evan was happy to obey. He pulled his undershirt off, over his head. He knew he was in good shape, several of his lovers had complimented him on his body, and from Jeremiah’s expression he was as impressed.

“So far your condition appears to be top-notch,” Jeremiah said, as he circled his finger. “Turn around and remove your trousers. I’m partial to a shapely arse and strong shoulders.”

With his back to Jeremiah, Evan dropped his trousers and then kicked them away, taking a moment to enjoy being naked, knowing Jeremiah would be drinking in the sight.

“On the bed.” The order came as a growl and Evan was delighted at the response his nakedness had garnered. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself at the centre of the mattress. Back straight, arse high, he wanted Jeremiah to desire him, wanted this to be more than one chance to be with him.

He squirmed as Jeremiah traced a finger across the soles of his feet, but the sensation changed as the finger moved up the back of his calf muscle and thigh and Jeremiah reached between his legs and cupped Evan’s balls.

“Perfect,” Jeremiah said, breathy.

Evan was already hard, had been for a while and he wanted to be fucked. “Please,” he begged.

“Don’t worry, my Evan, I will look after you.” Jeremiah pressed a kiss to Evan’s shoulder blade then stepped away.

Evan whimpered at the loss of contact. He turned his head to see Jeremiah remove a feather from a side table. If he had thought the path of Jeremiah’s finger felt good it was nothing compared to the teasing trail of the feather. He endured the light strokes and playful whisps, his body desperate. He needed to be claimed and taken, but again and again the feather danced across his skin, into crevices and creases—every second a distracting dance of desire.

“You are so responsive, many young men do not understand the importance of touch. They think sex is about ramming their cock in a hole, or having a cock ram into them. Your reactions have pleased me, Evan. You will be a delight to take.”

Jeremiah had yet to touch his cock, and he’d teased the crack of his arse but not further, and Evan wanted more. He was relieved when Jeremiah began to remove his clothes, he took his time, laying each item over a chair and once he was naked, Evan let out another whimper. Jeremiah was lean, yet powerful; he might have been fifty but there were many younger men who couldn’t match up to his physique.

Jeremiah collected something else from a little casket but Evan couldn’t see what it was. This question was answered as moments later, Jeremiah knelt behind him and an oily finger pressed against his hole. He was already excited beyond his expectations, and as Jeremiah worked him open it was as if he might lose his mind. He’d had other lovers, and he was pretty sure none of them had ever brought him this close to the edge of sanity.

“Jeremiah, please, I need more.” He’d lost his pride when he’d entered the room, he would beg or offer anything at this point.

Jeremiah patted his arse. “Greedy boy. You’re lucky that so am I.”

Evan let out a deep moan as Jeremiah’s cock breached him, he’d waited so long, and this was everything he’d hoped for. Jeremiah was of a decent girth and length and he was experienced enough to know how to use both to their advantage. Evan lost himself in the thrusts, the slap of skin against skin, Jeremiah setting a rhythm that nudged him closer and closer to his climax. Jeremiah took hold of Evan’s cock and Evan couldn’t hold back, he came with a shout and Jeremiah sped up, using him to chase his own release, pounding his arse until he came with a final, deep thrust.

Evan collapsed forwards onto the bed, his arms and knees no longer able to take his weight. Jeremiah slipped out of him, and for God knows how long Evan panted, trying to regain his breath and stop his head from spinning.

Jeremiah lay beside him, coaxed him onto his back, and then after claiming a kiss pulled Evan close.

Evan staredup at thecanopy of the bed, his heart racing. Jeremiah had made his mind and body sing. He’d had a lot of wonderful sex, and this was some of the best, and he hoped the night wasn't over.

Jeremiah stroked his finger over Evan's belly. “You are a jewel, Evan. I am very lucky to have had the honour of this evening with you.”

“The night is still young.”

“Oh, I am far from done with you. But we must catch our breath a little before we explore further.”

Evan thought now was the time to be brave. “It need not end tonight.”

Jeremiah’s smile was wry. “I knew you were greedy.”

“Jeremiah?”

“Shush.” He silenced him with a kiss, and Evan took that as not to press the issue. He would enjoy the rest of the night, try to hint again later, but be prepared that he had one night at Crofton Hall, and one night only.

E van sighed as he read another letter from the evening post asking him to attend an event he had no interest in. It had been over a week since he’d left Crofton Hall. He’d enjoyed his time with Jeremiah, but he felt bereft at not being invited to stay. He’d been certain when he’d agreed to the game that all he wanted was one night of fun but instead he was now wishing he’d been invited to play with George and Clive, as well as another round with Jeremiah. He sighed and finished dressing; he had to be in Fitzrovia for dinner, and it would be bad form to be late. His valet handed him his hat and gloves as he departed and hurried down the steps of the building to greet what he thought was his hackney carriage.

But instead of a hired cab, a coach emblazoned with a coat of arms of a stag stood waiting. The driver got down from his seat and opened the door. “Mr Davidson?”

“Yes.”

“Lord Crofton sends his regards and asks for you to meet with him at his Strand residence. If you are willing, please come aboard.”

He didn’t give his decision a second thought and boarded the coach. Moments later they were on their way, the traffic lighter than usual, and Evan was grateful as he was beyond excited at the prospect of seeing Jeremiah again. His mouth dried at the thought of having Jeremiah’s hands on his skin, to be worked open and fucked by a master. He needed to calm down or he would come in his eveningwear without so much as a stroke.

Evan hadn’t been aware that there was a Crofton property on The Strand. As far as he knew Jeremiah stayed with friends, notably the Duke of Marchent, when he was in London. He didn’t often leave Crofton Hall but instead held the sort of parties people would be willing to travel to, and Evan was intrigued at what might be waiting for him.

A doorman stood waiting outside the main entrance and was quick to let him in. “Lord Crofton is expecting me.”

“Second floor, sir. The door is on the latch.”

Evan raced up the marble staircase, his pulse racing from expectation rather than exertion, and he had to take a second to compose himself before he entered. He turned the handle and the door swung open into a lobby.

“Is that you, Evan?”

He recognised Jeremiah’s voice.

“Yes,” he replied with a croak

“Then come through and join us.”

Us?

He swallowed thickly, his pulse racing and walked into a bedroom with the biggest bed he’d ever seen, and three occupants sprawled naked across the mattress. Jeremiah, Clive and George. Three men, with Evan soon to be the fourth, and only one bed.