When Stephen's sister runs away from her arranged marriage to the cruel, cold Nate Harcourt, the family assumes they're ruined - at least, until Stephen volunteers to sign the marriage license in her place. But when he is forced by the Harcourts to make good on the marriage, living with Nate as his wife, will tensions between them erupt - or will they blossom into a heated passion? Warning: this 7,500 word historical erotic romance contains gay forced marriage, masturbation, frottage, intercrural sex, first time sex, spanking, cropping, and a smoldering love-hate relationship; adults only!
Nathaniel was cold but seething, I could see the tension on his pale, pointed face. I couldn’t entirely blame him – instead of a new bride, he had public humiliation and me.
I spread my hands, attempting sincerity. “I understand you’re upset, Harcourt, but – ”
“But?” he mocked me, drawing out the word.
“But Lizzie will be back soon.” I didn’t add, Not that you deserve her.
Nathaniel inclined his head, despite still looking dubious. “And until then, you’ll be attending to the women’s duties.”
I choked. “Which women’s duties?”
Nathaniel flashed his teeth in a grin. “Pour me an evening drink, to begin with. You found the kitchen?”
I turned to go. “Yes.” I left him without another word, biting back the venom I wanted to spit at him. Prick, the utter prick. Still, Nathaniel had leverage over me, as long as Elizabeth was missing. I would humor him until her return, but no longer.
At bedtime, he beckoned me up a winding staircase. “You’ll be staying in the guest bedroom.”
That suited me just fine. But rather than showing me to the guest room, Nathaniel led me to the master bedroom – presumably his own. “But first, you’ll assist me in undressing for the night.”
Women’s work, right. Servants’ work, more like. I swallowed the rest of my mead in a rush before setting the glass down just a bit too heavily on the dresser. “Surely you could manage on your own.”
In response, Nathaniel undid the top of the ribbon on his tunic and then raised his chin, giving me an expectant look. My punishment, as though I’d let Lizzie run away and my father negotiate this absurd arrangement. I stepped behind Nathaniel, reaching around his slim figure to undo the ribbon in the reflection of the full length mirror before him. Likewise, he watched me in the mirror, a slight smirk playing at his lips. Bastard.
His tunic slipped from his shoulders, and I pulled it off him entirely, then cursorily pulled his undershirt over his head. His chest was narrow, hairless, and his skin was testament that he had never seen real work. My hand dipped lower, to undo the top of his breeches, and he arched his hips subtly into my touch. Relishing the power he had over me, if only temporarily.
But, in spite of myself, I watched his body move in the mirror, arching and twisting to assist me in undressing him. I pushed his breeches farther down his slender hips, my gaze lingering on the codpiece that rose in a swell between his legs. As my fingers grazed his warm skin beneath his breeches, I felt myself getting hot.