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Bellamy padded toward the door to listen to the merriment in the sitting room, and Ashwood joined him.
“Tell me what transpires in the sitting room,” Ashwood said.
“First they are entertained with Miss Celestine’s delicious pastries, as well as moon-flower tea, which the madam makes especially for these evenings.” He winked. The tea was popular and helped the men relax. “The gentlemen converse with the lads and each other, which they don’t have an opportunity to do in other settings. Not like this.”
“I see,” Ashwood said, listening intently.
“And some of the gentlemen meet here to rent a room together.”
“Like a molly house,” Ashwood interjected, and Bellamy now speculated whether that was how Ashwood had gotten his needs met. His stomach tightened briefly with jealousy before he reminded himself he had no right.
“Precisely, if that’s their wish. But most come to spend the evening with one of us.”
“The way you describe it makes it feel almost…sacred.”
“In my opinion, it is. We’re not accepted in society. It’s different from the wolf world, where instinct seems to matter most.”
“Wolves have to remain aware of the workings of proper society in order to blend in, so we won’t be hunted again. I’ve been immersed in that world for so long, I’d nearly forgotten how much this might mean to certain men.”
“And women. Madam Fairborn has a similar arrangement at Enchantment.”
“Will wonders never cease,” Ashwood said with awe, and Bellamy thought perhaps he finally understood why it was so important, and why these lads and this establishment had become a place of refuge for him. He found himself wishing again that Ashwood could experience something similar, for more than a night or two.
Ashwood asked more questions about the festivities, about the sort of gentlemen who were invited, and Bellamy wished they had a viewing partition of their own.
“In just a moment, the lads will line up in the vestibule, where the gentlemen will decide who they’d like to share the evening with. Once the terms are negotiated, they retire to one of the rooms.”
“How do the twins manage?” Ashwood asked, obviously having noticed their closeness.
“The madam believes they are fated, so she has a strict policy that they’re to be requested as a pair. It was the same with Galen and Azriel once she realized they were too.”
“Ah, I see.” Ashwood glanced toward the window as if thinking it through. “I enjoyed hearing about their cottage in Solar’s Edge.”
“Is that a location you’d like to visit?”
“I think I would. Perhaps I’ll even head in that direction when I leave,” he said, and Bellamy swallowed roughly, the idea of him leaving not sitting well again. “And if I ever come across them, I will be certain to send everyone’s regards.”
“You’ll have to explain yourself since they think you stole me in the middle of the night,” he teased, and Ashwood laughed.
Bellamy liked the notion of Ashwood meeting his friends, and told him so. He also described how the cottage had belonged to a Mr. Blackburn, a gentleman who’d been a customer at Moon Flower, and who’d grown fond of them.
“If we were both working under the madam’s employ…” Ashwood raised an eyebrow. “Would we have been selected together as well?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“What might we have gotten up to?” he mused.
“Perhaps you’d like to see?” Bellamy thought by now the men would be safely tucked away in their rooms.
“I…think perhaps I might,” he said, his cheeks growing pink.
“Come, then.” Bellamy stood and reached for his hand, anticipation coursing through him. “Some will keep the aperture open as an invitation, others won’t. The choice is always theirs.”
Chapter 21
His eagerness waned to nerves as they padded into the hallway. He liked that Ashwood was open to the possibility of voyeurism, but would his response match his initial curiosity? Bellamy told himself he wasn’t responsible for Ashwood’s enjoyment and that he could also choose to walk away.
Taking a deep breath, Bellamy led him to the first aperture that remained partially open. The room was occupied by Francis and a gentleman Bellamy didn’t immediately recognize. Francis was lying on the bed, his hands bound above him with a silk scarf.
He heard Ashwood’s quiet gasp as he looked more closely. Francis was writhing as the man kissed him everywhere except the place where he obviously wanted it most—his cock, which was red-tipped and leaking.
“My word,” Ashwood whispered. Bellamy could feel the tension emanating from him, and with a quick glance downward, noted the bulge in the front of his breeches. Given his reaction, he assumed Ashwood had never been privy to such an experience, so he pressed their shoulders together to offer support. But also to be closer to him because, truth be told, he was beginning to feel aroused from the spectacle as well.
They watched as the gentleman finally engulfed Francis’s cock. Ashwood attempted to stifle his reactions, either for Bellamy’s benefit or for the two men involved in the salacious act.
