CHAPTER 1

All at Sea
1803. Homeward Bound.

Peter jerked out of an uneasy sleep as the door to the cabin crashed open and Val was unceremoniously shoved inside. The sound of the lock being turned was loud and extremely final.

Val pounded on the door and shouted something obscene in Turkish before attempting to straighten his rumpled clothing. His white shirt was flapping open to the waist and the ill-fitting breeches he’d been forced to borrow were falling off his narrow hips.

“Bloody bastards,” Val muttered, and sat down with a thump on the edge of the lower bunk Peter occupied. His long black hair was damp and sleeked back behind his ears, displaying the pure beauty of his cheekbones and his astonishing violet-colored eyes.

“What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Val turned that narrowed amethyst gaze on Peter. “I dared to take a stroll up on deck. Apparently, my mere presence is a threat to the morals of the crew.”

“Well, you are quite beautiful.”

“And a whore, don’t forget that.” Val punched the thin straw mattress. “Intent on seducing upright Christian souls.”

“No one actually said that to you, did they?”

“The first mate muttered it behind my back when our savior, Mr. John Harrison, protector of the fallen and hero of the hour, protested that I should surely be allowed some fresh air.”

“He is a good man.”

Val scowled. “He was in Madame Tezoli’s brothel, our brothel. He only found us because he was willing to pay for sex. It wasn’t as if he was looking for us, or anything.”

“But he did find us.” Peter put his hand on Val’s knee, felt his instant tension, and hastily withdrew his fingers. “He is bringing us home.”

“Home?”

“To England.”

Val stood and stepped out of his breeches, leaving him in just his long shirt. Like Peter, he was unused to wearing clothes. Life in the scented heat of a Turkish brothel hadn’t required many garments. Val sat cross-legged next to Peter.

“Do you still think of it as home?”

“Not really. I can’t remember anything except our ship being attacked, and you and I ending up naked in a slave market.”

“I remember it all.” Val’s expression darkened. “My father left me to die, and has made no effort to recover me.”

“You don’t know that. He might have perished in the attack, or lost his memory as I did, or—”

“It’s been almost ten years.” Val’s beautiful mouth hardened. “I don’t want to go back.”

At this Peter sat up, dislodging the covers. “You’d rather stay in the brothel?”

“No!” Val frowned. “I don’t know what I want anymore—apart from my freedom.”

“We are no longer slaves. Mr. Harrison bought us from Madame.”

“So technically we are his possessions. I wonder how much he’ll charge our families to buy us back?”

“You are incredibly mercenary, Val.” Peter hesitated. “And who is going to pay for me anyway? I have no idea if I even have a family or where to look for them.”

For a second Val’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I wonder how much my family is willing to offer to have their eldest son and heir restored to them?”

“Anything, I should imagine.”

A muscle twitched in Val’s cheek and this time Peter couldn’t help but touch his friend’s arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m bored.”

“That doesn’t excuse your foul mood.” Peter let his fingers drift down Val’s arm. “There isn’t much to do in this small cabin, is there?”

“And it’s going to get worse. From now on, we’re only allowed out after dark to get our exercise.”

“That’s better than nothing.”

Val shrugged off his hand. “Why do you have to be so positive about everything?”

“Because that’s the only way I can survive the horrors.” Peter leaned in and kissed Val’s shoulder.

“And by using opium.” Val’s breathing hitched. “Damnation, even I miss that.”

“Don’t talk about it. It just makes me crave it even more.”

“It’s not difficult to acquire. What do you think is in the hold of this ship?”

Peter licked his lips. “Perhaps I can persuade Mr. Harrison to give us some to soothe our nerves.”

“Offer to suck his cock; he’d probably like that.”

“I don’t think he would. He didn’t come to the brothel for a man, Val.”

“Then flutter your eyelashes at one of the crew. I’m sure they’d trade a quick fuck for your needs.”

“Did someone try to touch you like that?” Peter asked carefully. “Is that why you are in such an appalling mood?”

“They think I’m a whore, Peter. They assumed I’d be happy to get down on my knees and suck as many cocks as they wanted for whatever they wanted to pay me.” His mouth curved in a derisive smile. “Why do you think I got thrown back in here?”

“Because you refused to submit.” Peter sighed and untangled himself from the sheets. “Why didn’t you tell me this when you first came in?” He searched for his shirt and breeches.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to offer to suck some of that cock and get us some opium.”

Val leapt up and grabbed hold of his arm. “No, you damn well aren’t!”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.” Peter tried to break free. “Just because you’re too damn proud to get down on your knees, I’m not.”

“I already know you’ll fuck anything.”

“And have done so many times in the past just so you haven’t had to…. Let go of me, Val.”

They were nose-to-nose and hip-to-hip, now. Peter shuddered as Val slid a hand around the back of his neck. His skin was darkened from the sun, and faintly sheened with sweat.

“Peter …”

“Don’t.” Even as his cock stiffened and he yearned toward the other man, Peter tried to pull free. “If you want opium, then let me get it for you.”

“Why? You just said yourself we are free. You don’t have to whore yourself out to anyone.”

Peter briefly closed his eyes. “Because if I’m stuck in this cabin with you, I’m going to crave something. Better the oblivion of opium than begging you to touch me.”

Val didn’t move, but he might as well have turned to stone. With a sigh, Peter pulled out of his companion’s slackened grasp, and pulled on his shirt. He discovered his breeches in the chest, and put them on, too, hating the heaviness of the fabric against his skin.

He ignored Val, walked around him, and went to the door. He raised his hand to knock.

“Don’t.”

Val came up behind him and pressed himself against Peter’s back, one hand wrapped around his upraised wrist. “Please.”

Peter rested his forehead against the oak door, both loving and hating the intimate press of Val’s body aligned with his.

“If I can’t get out of here, I’ll be begging you to fuck me soon. Is that what you want? I know you hate it.”

He groaned as Val slipped a hand around his hips and cupped his already semi-erect shaft.

“As you’ve already noticed, I’m not in a particularly pleasant mood,” Val murmured and bit Peter’s earlobe.

“You rarely are.”

“If I fuck you, it’ll be on my terms.”

Peter swallowed hard. “It always is.”

He shuddered as Val’s thumb rubbed up and down the length of his cock.

“You have to take whatever I give you, and you only come when I tell you to.”

“Yes.”

Val’s hand disappeared. “Then strip for me.”

He went and sat on the bed. Peter stood in front of him and slowly took off his borrowed shirt and breeches. His skin was paler than Val’s, his hair blond and he was lighter in build. Clients had liked having them together, the light and the dark, the pleaser and the fighter … His cock filled out, but he made no effort to hide it from Val, who’d already seen him in every sexual situation possible.

“You’re wet for me.”

“Yes.” Peter glanced down at the bead of pre-cum adorning the crown of his cock.

Val leaned forward and took the clear drop on his finger and then into his mouth. “Make yourself hard for me. But do it slowly, and stop when I tell you to.”

Peter cupped his balls with one hand, wrapped the other around the base of his cock and started to work his shaft back and forth within his fist. His breathing was the only sound apart from the slide of his fingers and the usual creaking sounds of the sailing vessel. Wetness gathered in his slit and dripped down over his heated shaft, making it easier to manipulate his more than willing flesh.

“Stop.”

Startled, Peter looked straight into Val’s narrowed gaze.

“Someone’s at the door. Get under the covers.”

Peter just managed to scramble beneath the sheets before the door was unlocked. He glanced down at his lap, noticed how obvious his arousal was, and tried to pull up his knees.

“No.”

Val laid his hand over Peter’s covered cock, his attention now on the door where Mr. Harrison was standing.

“Good evening, sir.”

Unused to speaking his native language, Val’s accented English made him sound like an exotic foreigner.

Mr. Harrison took the only chair and sat down, his expression flustered.

“I came to set matters right as to your position on this ship.”

“Oh, I think we know what that is,” Val said. “Ship’s trollops or slave cargo, to be kept separate from the men unless needed.”

Peter winced at Val’s drawling tone.

Mr. Harrison sighed. “As I have tried to explain many times, Valentin, you are no longer slaves, or required to pay for your passage in any way whatsoever. You are expected to follow the rules of the captain, and keep away from his crew. Brawling with the men is not a good idea.”

“We understand that, sir.” Peter interjected before Val could say anything that would get them confined to their cabin for the rest of the long journey.

“Thank you, Peter.” Mr. Harrison took out a notebook and a stub of pencil. “I was hoping you might both give me more information as to how you ended up in that appalling brothel.”

“It wasn’t appalling. We ate well and fornicated a lot.” Val’s seductive shrug was meant to embarrass. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You are Englishmen.”

“Englishmen don’t fornicate?” Val smiled at Mr. Harrison. “Then what were you doing in that appalling brothel?”

A red flush heated Mr. Harrison’s cheeks and he stared down at his notebook. “I believe you both reckoned your age to be about eighteen. Do I have that right?”

Peter nodded.

“Do either of you remember the names of your parents?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t remember anything before the ship was boarded, and I was knocked unconscious.”

“But you were on the same ship as Valentin?”

“Yes, he was,” Val snapped. “I remember him.”

“Were you both traveling alone?”

“I believe I was with my father.” Val immediately shut his mouth and tried to stare down Mr. Harrison.

“And I assume you have no knowledge of what happened to him?”

“One might assume that seeing as he’s made no effort to find me, he died in the attack.”

“May I have his name?”

Val’s grip on Peter’s cock tightened. “Why? If he’s dead, he can hardly help me, can he?”

“But there might be other family members who would be willing to take you in when we return.”

“I can’t think of anyone.”

“Valentin, you must remember your own father’s last name.”

“It appears to have slipped my mind.”

Mr. Harrison rose to his feet and put his notebook away. “Perhaps you’ll recall it before we reach England. Otherwise—”

“—You’ll drop us at the docks, and leave us to ply our trade there?”

“Val—” Peter glared at his friend. “I apologize, Mr. Harrison. Val isn’t usually this obnoxious. We really do appreciate everything you have done for us, sir.”

Mr. Harrison merely nodded and turned to the door. “I’ll send one of the crew to escort you on your walk after dinner.”

He knocked and was let out, leaving Peter staring at a fuming Val.

“What is wrong with you? The man is merely trying to help! Why couldn’t you tell him your family name?”

“Because I know what will happen if I do. If he’s got any sense, he’ll realize my father was a nobleman.”

“So what?”

Val pulled back the covers to expose Peter’s naked body. “I’m not sure if I want that life. All I’m fit for is this.”

He leaned forward and drew Peter’s cock into his mouth, sucking him deep until Peter was fully erect.

“See?” Val sat up and wiped his mouth. “I don’t think that’s a skill the son of a marquess is expected to have.”

“Your father is a marquess?”

“He was. I suppose if he’s dead I’m the new Marquess of Stratham.” Val bowed and kissed the crown of Peter’s throbbing cock.

“But I thought your name was Sokorvsky.”

“It is, well, that’s my mother’s last name. She was a Russian princess, and as the eldest child, I inherited her family title along with a courtesy earldom from my father. I decided I’d prefer to use my mother’s name.” Val paused. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m still the same. A whore with an aversion to being fucked by men, but a willingness to engage in any sexual perversion possible with a woman.”

Peter tried to reclaim the covers, but Val snatched them back.

“You promised to let me do what I wanted with you.”

“But—”

“Lie back and put your hands on the headboard behind you.”

Peter obeyed, his body too used to doing what it was told to find the courage to object. Usually at this point, he tried to stop thinking about whatever he was being made to do, to ignore the face looming over him, or the smell and sounds of another human rutting, but this was Val. He had to savor every precious second.

He shuddered as Val straddled him and nipped his lower lip, his whole body jerking, his cock jammed against Val’s shirt.

“Keep still, and be quiet.”

Peter held his breath as Val’s quick mouth moved over him, nuzzling his jaw, his throat, and then down to his chest. He moaned as Val played with his nipples using his teeth and then his fingers to bring them to hard aching points. Damnation, he shouldn’t have agreed to this. Val wasn’t going to be kind, but then when was he ever kind? He knew what Peter needed, what he craved …

Val knelt up and moved closer, his cock in his hand, and rubbed the crown against Peter’s lips.

“Suck me.”

Peter opened his mouth and Val surged forward, one hand sliding around to the back of Peter’s head, to hold him steady while he took what he wanted and controlled Peter’s response. Peter could do nothing but suck and swallow, and try to remember to breathe as Val fucked his mouth.

Devil take it, he was a fool …

He gasped as Val yanked on his long hair and he had to release his grip on his lover’s cock.

“Turn around.”

Val got off him, and Peter turned to face the wall.

“Why not on my back?” The words burst out of him before he could stop them. Val froze behind him.

“I told you to be quiet.”

The sound of Val’s hand hitting his buttock was loud, and Peter stopped talking to brace for another blow, which swiftly followed. His arse heated and the pain sunk in to him, and somehow made everything right. He arched his back offering more, seeking the place where the sting turned to pleasure, where he needed it more than he needed to breathe.

Val pushed his knees farther apart, his finger sliding between Peter’s buttocks to settle on the pucker of his arsehole and play with that, his fingernail rough as he rimmed the hole.

“I don’t have any oil.”

“I don’t care,” Peter whispered.

“Be quiet.”

Another slap, this time between his buttocks, catching his arsehole, taint, and balls. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and fought to breathe.

“Please.”

Val reached around and grabbed Peter’s wet cock in a hard grip. “Do you want me to slap this? Is the only time I can keep you quiet is when my cock’s filling your mouth?”

Peter went still and stared down at Val’s fisted hand, which was now covered in his pre-cum.

The hand disappeared and Val’s now wet fingers probed his arsehole. Despite the lubrication, it was rough going, but Peter didn’t care. It was Val and he’d take Val anyway he could. Two fingers he guessed, shoved deep and then almost freed before being pushed deep again.

Val crouched behind him, his thick wet cock pressed against Peter’s lower spine, rubbing and teasing him as Val toyed with his balls and his shaft until Peter thought he was going to explode. He arched his back even more, offering Val everything, begging him to slide in and … God, yes, it was like a punch to the gut, Val’s big cock pressing and parting his hole, retreating and then moving ever deeper.

Peter forgot how to breathe and concentrated on that slow, relentless passage, widening his stance to take everything, shocked at how big Val felt even after all their encounters. He squeezed down on Val’s cock, heard his breathing hitch, and was rewarded by the final slam of Val sheathing himself completely, his thick throbbing length deep inside Peter.

 
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