And everywhere, bodies. Men of all shapes and sizes, engaged in every conceivable act of pleasure. Some watched from the periphery, stroking themselves lazily as they observed the dim tableau before them. Others were fully immersed in the experience, lost in sensation.
I felt my body responding to the sight, blood rushing to my groin despite my lingering nervousness. There was something undeniably powerful about the uninhibited desire—men seeking and giving pleasure without pretense or performance.
As I continued my circuit of the room, I became aware of eyes following my progress. In the dim red light, I couldn't make out faces clearly, but I could feel the weight of appraisal, of interest. It was bothunnerving and exhilarating to be seen this way, not as the Grand Duke of Avaline but simply as a body, a potential source of pleasure.
I paused near one alcove, watching as two men moved together in a slow rhythm. One caught me watching and extended a hand in invitation, but I shook my head gently and moved on.
My exploration led me to the threshold of the darker section. Here, the red lighting faded entirely, leaving only the barest suggestion of shapes moving in absolute darkness. The sounds were more intense here—grunts and moans and the wet sounds of bodies joining. I hesitated, both drawn to and intimidated by the complete surrender of sight that entering would require.
As I stood contemplating, I felt a touch on my back—light, questioning. I turned to find a figure standing close behind me, face indistinct in the low light.
For a moment, we simply stood there, evaluating each other without words. Then, slowly, he reached out again, his hand trailing down my chest to my stomach, then lower still. I drew in a sharp breath as his fingers wrapped around my length, which responded immediately to his touch.
I placed my hand on his shoulder, and without further preamble, he sank to his knees before me, his mouth replacing his hand with a warmth that drew a low groan from my throat. My head rolled back, surrendering to the sensation as he worked me with evident skill.
It was good, very good, the anonymous nature of the encounter adding a forbidden thrill that heightened every sensation. My hands found their way to my anonymous partner's head, fingers tangling in hair that was shorter and coarser than Theo's silken locks.“C'est bon,”I murmured, the French slipping out unbidden as it often did in moments of passion.“Continue commeça.”
The man at my feet responded with increased enthusiasm, taking me deeper. His technique was flawless, clearly practiced, each movement calculated for maximum pleasure. Yet something was missing. The physical sensations were intense, but hollow, like listening to perfect music played without emotion. I closed my eyes, trying to lose myself in pure sensation without thought or feeling.
In my mind, unbidden, came the image of Theo on that first day—bound and vulnerable, taking me into his throat with that mixture of defiance and surrender that had captivated me from the start.
Just then, I felt another presence nearby, a warm body moving close to my side. Before I could turn, lips brushed my ear, and a voice I would recognize anywhere whispered, “Enjoying yourself, Your Grace?”
The effect was instantaneous—a surge of awareness, of presence, of connection rushing through me like electricity. The contrast between what I had been experiencing moments before and the simple reality of Theo's voice near my ear was staggering. It was like moving from a grayscale world into vibrant color, from a muffled recording to live music.“Theo?”
In response, a hand caressed my shoulder, confirming what my ears had already told me. Without hesitation, I pulled back from the man at my feet, ignoring his sound of protest as I turned fully toward the voice that had spoken.
In the dim light, I could just make out Theo's features—those expressive eyes, that mouth that had haunted my dreams. Without thought or hesitation, I reached for him, pulling him into my arms with a desperation that should have embarrassed me.
Our mouths met in a kiss that was nothing like the controlled encounters we'd shared before. This was raw, hungry, a claiming on both sides. I tasted him deeply, my hands roaming his naked body withpossessive urgency. He responded in kind, pressing against me as if he could erase the very space between us.
“What are you doing here?” I managed when we finally broke for air, my voice rough with desire.
“Working,” he replied, a smile in his voice despite the breathlessness. “I thought you went home.”
Of course. The realization that Theo was here in a professional capacity, available to any client who might desire him, sent a surge of irrational jealousy through me. The thought of other hands on him, other mouths claiming what I had thought of as mine, was unexpectedly painful.
This was precisely why I'd come here tonight. To remind myself of the reality of our situation. Theo was a companion, doing his job. The connection I felt was an illusion, a fantasy I'd constructed.
And yet, when he was in my arms, that knowledge seemed distant and unimportant. All that mattered was the heat of his skin against mine, the perfect fit of his body against my own.
I kissed him again, harder this time, backing him toward the nearest wall. Around us, I was dimly aware of other bodies, other encounters continuing unabated, but they might as well have been on another planet. My entire universe had narrowed to this man in my arms, this connection that defied explanation.
Theo made a sound against my mouth, a breathy moan that ignited something fierce within me. My hands moved down his back to his ass, gripping firmly as I lifted him. He understood immediately, wrapping his legs around my waist as I pressed him against the wall.
“Yes,” he breathed against my ear, the single word carrying volumes of consent and desire.
I shifted my stance, balancing him carefully as one of his hands slipped between us. He guided me to his entrance, slick and ready, andwith a slow thrust, I entered him, swallowing his gasp with another deep kiss. The sensation was exquisite—tight heat enveloping me as his body yielded to mine. I held still for a moment, savoring the connection, before beginning to move in a steady rhythm.
Theo clung to me, his arms around my neck, his legs locked at the small of my back. Each thrust drew a soft sound from him, not the performative moans I'd heard from other companions in the room, but genuine expressions of pleasure that he seemed unable to suppress. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his scent as I drove into him with increasing urgency.
“Tu es parfait,” I murmured against his skin, the French flowing freely now. “Fait pour moi. Seulement pour moi.”
You are perfect. Made for me. Only for me.
Theo's response was nonverbal, a tightening of his arms, a shudder that ran through his entire body. I could feel him tensing, approaching his climax, and I adjusted my angle to drive deeper, to hit that spot within him that I'd learned would send him spiraling into ecstasy. His hand slipped between our bodies, wrapping around himself, stroking in rhythm with my thrusts.
His release came with a cry he muffled against my shoulder, his body clenching around me in rhythmic pulses. The sensation pushed me over the edge as well. I came with a low groan, clenching him against me as waves of pleasure washed through my body.
