Seducing Stephen

By Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon

What does a jaded earl see in a studious young man? Everything he never knew he was missing.

The dark, alluring Peter, Lord Northrup, is Stephen's every nighttime fantasy made flesh and he's in Stephen's bed, ready for passion. When Peter discovers the bedroom mix-up, he's ready to leave until Stephen begs him to teach him all the things he's only imagined.

The two men, visitors at a country house, begin a delirious, passionate affair with Northrup as teacher and Stephen his eager student. Peter knows their liaison is about hot sessions of sexual exploration, not love--and backs away when he sees shy Stephen's heart is involved. Passion and commitment can't coexist for men like them.

But Peter is haunted by memories of the summer fling and the quiet young man he spurned. But he may have taught him Stephen too well the lessons of a cynical roué.

This is a previously published book.

Warning: Strong language and erotic content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Summer Devon
• Release date: Feb 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311657077

Bonnie Dee

Whether you're a fan of contemporary, paranormal, or historical romance, you'll find something to enjoy among my books. I'm interested in flawed, often damaged, people who find the fulfillment they seek in one another. To stay informed about new releases, please SIGN UP FOR MY NEWSLETTER. Help an author out by leaving a review and spreading the word about this book among your friends. You can join my street team at FB. Learn more about my backlist at http://bonniedee.com or find me on FB and Twitter @Bonnie_Dee.

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Seducing Stephen

by

Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon on Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Chapter One

Summer 1856

Gads, there's a boy in my bed. It's Christmas come early.

The laconic drawl jerked Stephen from a deep sleep, snapped him awake, and set him bolting upright, blinking in the candlelight at the dark devil who stood over him. He gasped for breath and sputtered for an answer, but words failed him, as they so often did. Words like who, why, and what all stuck to his tongue, and only an anguished, stammering w-w-w-w came from his throat.

The man shed his midnight jacket and began to unbutton his gleaming white shirt. His shoulders broad, his back ramrod straight, his dark hair falling in loose curls around harsh, shadowed features—he was Stephen's every nighttime fantasy made flesh, the fascinating, frightening creature of erotically charged dreams, the man who would touch him in ways he'd only furtively touched himself up to now.

Shove over then, and make room for an old man on the warm side of the bed. The devil's quiet chuckle was like fingernails scraping Stephen's spine. "Well, perhaps not old. I prefer to think of myself as seasoned, like a good piece of meat."

W-who…? Stephen finally managed to blurt. He was deeply aware of the man's gaze lingering on his bare chest, so he pulled his gaping nightshirt closed.

Lord Northrup, Earl of Stafford, but you may call me Peter since it appears we're going to be such intimate companions as to share sleeping quarters. He pulled the shirt off his shoulders, and the candlelight made his skin glow golden. Shadows delineated the muscles of his biceps and chest. A darker shadow of hair furred his pectorals and his flat belly.

I'm not one to raise a fuss in the middle of the night when it's my fault for arriving so late to the party. So, my lad, I'm willing to share if you are.

Stephen could no longer manage so much as a vowel. He was struck speechless by the outspoken earl who made suggestive comments without a thought for how they might be construed by a stranger. The man was stripping off his boots and breeches now. What kind of an earl traveled without a valet to help him with his attire?

When the stranger tossed back the covers and started to climb into the tall bed, Stephen scooted over as fast as a fox chased by hounds. The man wore no nightshirt. He was barely clothed in drawers, the drawstring of which was tied loosely so they hung halfway down his hips. Before Northrup pulled the covers over himself, Stephen beheld the shallow indentations below each hip bone and the shape of his erect cock beneath the undergarment.

Sir, I could go elsewhere, Stephen finally said with a gasp. It's no b-bother at all for me to move to another room.

One dark brow rose high as Northrup settled back against the pillow, an arm behind his head. The position lifted his chest, and Stephen's gaze was drawn to the hard nubs of his brown nipples. Come now. No need to keep pretending. I know Euphemia Pratt and her pranks. This is the room she always gives me. If she placed you in my bed, it's for a good reason. One I think we'll both enjoy.

Beneath the covers, Stephen pinched his forearm, checking to see if he was perhaps still asleep. This was the stuff of dreams, waking up to the impossible fact of a handsome man making sexual suggestions—and reaching for him under the covers.

The young man flinched when a warm, heavy hand settled on his thigh, burning through the light cotton of his nightshirt, but his cock swelled, thrilled at the touch. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. He smelled the fresh scent of night air and a whiff of whiskey on his late night visitor.

Will you deny Mrs. Pratt told you to expect me?

Here it was—the moment for him to explain this was a huge misunderstanding, a double booking of one of the bedrooms. He was a friend of Brian Pratt, come to visit over the holidays. All he had to do was protest and climb out from under the bedcovers. But Stephen felt paralyzed by the hand on his thigh, sliding nearer his groin. He held utterly still, kept his denial to himself, and held his breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

The demon gazed at him with heavy-lidded eyes. You're a very pretty one, with your tawny, tousled hair and that pouting lower lip. However, I'd like to see more of you. Why don't you take off that rather unattractive nightshirt and show me.

Another hard swallow and Stephen moved to obey. It was as if Northrup was a hypnotizing cobra and he a quivering rodent eager to be eaten up. With shaking fingers, he gathered the soft cotton of his nightshirt, pulled it over his head, and tossed it onto the floor. He tried to convince himself he had no choice, that he had to obey the earl's commanding tone, but deep inside he knew the truth. This was something he'd craved for a very long time—for someone to take control and force him to give in to his natural inclinations.

My God, the earl muttered, his gaze raking Stephen's body and setting his flesh afire. He reached out a hand and rested the palm against the younger man's chest, then slid it down from chest to groin.

Stephen's stomach muscles trembled, and his cock hardened further. Northrup focused his gleaming eyes on the erect shaft. No drawers beneath your sleeping attire? Now tell me you weren't expecting me, my lad.

A grin transformed the man's severe features into the face of a fallen angel—once holy, now dark and dangerous. Don't look so frightened. I'm not going to hurt you. His hand curved around Stephen's cock and gripped it, squeezing lightly. Much. What's your name?

S-stephen.

Pleased to meet you, Stephen. Now we've introduced ourselves, why don't you come here and get to know me better? The earl's hand snaked around the back of his neck and pulled him over for a kiss.

Heart nearly choking him, Stephen leaned over the other man's reclining body, naked chest to chest. His lips touched another man's for the first time in his life. Warm, moist, moving, Northrup's mouth was a living thing, and the touch of it thrilled him. Their breath mingled. Stephen tasted the sharp, oaken flavor of whiskey. Was the earl drunk? Would he be angry when he realized what he'd done while in his cups?

But from his words and actions, it seemed Lord Northrup was accustomed to having men in his bed. He wouldn't have later regrets such as Stephen might have. No regrets now, however. Stephen pushed guilt and doubt from his mind, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips more firmly against the soft mouth.

Northrup's hand caressed his nape, pushed into his tangled hair, and cradled Stephen's skull. His tongue teased his lips open, then slipped between them. Stephen gasped as the earl's tongue stroked sinuously over his. The man released his cock to curve a hand around his waist and pull him closer.

It was almost too much—the glide of skin over skin, the hard, muscular body underneath his, the powerful, passionate kiss, and…oh God…his cock pressed into the other man's groin while the bulge of Northrup's erection strained to reach him. Stephen pulled away from the hungry mouth claiming his and gasped for air. He opened his eyes and beheld the stranger's face only inches from his own.

Sir, I'm not…

The earl frowned slightly, dark brows drawing together as he looked into Stephen's face. "You kiss like a novice. Mrs. Pratt did tell you to expect a companion, didn't she?" The drunken joviality was suddenly gone from his voice.

N-no. I'm her son Brian's friend, visiting for the holidays.

Rough hands thrust him off the warm body. Good Christ, a child!

I'm not. We're in our second year at university. I-I… Damn his tongue that, under pressure, always froze like a lake in January.

I'm sorry. You're not the sort of guest I thought you were. Must've come on the wrong weekend. Northrup sounded coldly sober now, perhaps afraid of the tales his accidental bed partner might spread about him.

I'd like to be that sort of guest. And what kind of wild weekend parties do the Pratts have when Brian isn't around? Stephen felt his body melting into a puddle of shame. The handsome man fondling him in the middle of the night had been too good to be true. Northrup wasn't interested in bedding a schoolmate of his host's son. But why not? Wasn't this a perfect opportunity for both of them to indulge in something they could never acknowledge in the light of day?

Swallowing his embarrassment and the consonants that kept sticking in his throat, Stephen dared to reach out a hand and place it squarely on the bulge in the front of Northrup's drawers. He didn't speak, but merely looked at the man with eyes revealing all the desires he'd hidden for so very long.

A moment like the stopped pendulum of a grandfather clock passed before Peter Northrup, the Earl of Stafford, broke the silence. It's like that, is it? I see. Very well, then.

He rolled onto his side to face Stephen, cupped his cheek, and leaned to kiss him once more. His lips were gentle, a sweet plucking of Stephen's mouth over and over. Then the man's tongue slipped between his lips, encouraging his to play. They twisted around one another in a supple dance that made the young man's heart pound. His hand was still planted on Northrup's erection, and he squeezed the hard bulge through the fabric.

The earl slid his hand down between them to loosen the drawstring on his linens and pull the garment down his hips. Stephen's fingers slid through the crisp hair covering his groin before finding and curling around the man's hard staff. It fit into his hand with a satisfying girth and weight. He slid his fist from base to tip, exploring the length and texture. Lord Northrup gave a low groan and thrust into his hand. His response reassured Stephen, making him feel a little less uncertain and incompetent. He could please his lordship. Perhaps he should think of him as Peter now that he'd made his intimate acquaintance.

After a few more deep kisses, Peter let Stephen draw a breath while he moved his mouth to his jaw and neck. His soft, nibbling kisses tickled, but Stephen raised his chin, offering his throat for more. Meanwhile he continued to pull the thick cock with long strokes of his fist, moving the foreskin down and rubbing his thumb over the smooth cap, moist with pearly droplets.

After a moment, Peter curled a hand around his and guided him to tug a little harder and a great deal faster. Friction heated Stephen's palm as it glided furiously over the smooth shaft. He studied the other man's face, the parted lips and hooded eyes. Oh yes, he was definitely doing this right. Another low groan confirmed it.

He wanted to do more, another impossibly daring thing. He wanted to take the man's cock in his mouth, taste his flesh and the flavor of his spendings. But Stephen was nervous. Deeply hidden daydreams were a world away from the raw truth of flesh and blood, muscle and bone. He was afraid to slide down and latch his mouth onto the man's penis, and so he continued to stroke and pull.

You're doing fine, lad, Peter encouraged in a low, rough voice. Just a little more, and—ah, God. He grunted, thrust, and froze. Stephen felt warmth spilling over his fist and dripping down the back of his hand. A sense of triumph swelled in him. He'd done what he wanted to, what he'd often dreamed of when he'd developed an interest in this boy or that one during his boarding school years and beyond. Never brave enough to pursue his feelings or learn if any of the objects of his affection were inclined the same way, Stephen had languished alone in his prison of solitude.

Very nice, the older man murmured as Stephen released his pulsing cock and wiped the residue on his discarded nightshirt.

The earl opened his dark, dancing eyes and gazed at Stephen. He smiled, and delightful crinkles marked the corners of his eyes. Now let me do something for you in return, my little virgin.

His splayed palm pressed warm against Stephen's chest, pushing him back to the mattress. The man straddled him, his hot, heavy body pinning him down, and Stephen was in heaven. His heart raced, his skin burned all over, and his cock felt like an iron rod. He frowned and concentrated on not exploding against the other man's stomach right then and there. How humiliating it would be to have it over so soon. But the excitement of being touched and fondled by another man's hand was almost too much to bear.

Peter kissed him on the mouth once before moving lower. His lips, tongue, and hands explored Stephen's torso, stroked across his chest, felt his biceps, skated over his stomach. His touch was better than anything Stephen could have imagined, because it was real. No more phantom hands stroking and pleasuring him while really it was his own fist rapidly bringing himself to orgasm. Peter's mouth was warm on his nipples as he licked and bit. His tongue left moist trails, and his hands knew exactly where and how to touch. Soon Stephen's entire body was vibrating with need, but most of all his cock, which the man had not yet touched.

Peter teased his way around it, hands holding Stephen's hips while his mouth tickled the younger man's groin. He nuzzled between Stephen's legs, licking his inner thighs, coming so close to his balls that they tightened hard. Still he would not touch the rigid erection that thrust demandingly before him.

Stephen glanced down at what he could see of the dark face in the simmering shadows cast by the fire's glow. He sucked in a breath at the beautiful profile seen from above, harsh angles and soft, seeking lips.

He lifted his hips, begging for more, and when Peter still ignored his plea, Stephen voiced it at last. Please…

A devilish chuckle let him know that was what the man had been waiting for. The earl looked up at him, meeting his gaze as he took Stephen's cock in hand and ever so slowly descended on it, sucking the tip into his mouth.

Rapture. Swallowing hard, he fought again to control his reaction. The man's teasing torture had brought him so close to the

Reviews for Seducing Stephen

[steelwhisper · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Quite lovely.