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.He took another long swallow of brandy.“Shortly before we left London, and after I’d played footman for you, I stopped at a shop off Bond Street.”“What sort of shop?”“One for discriminating gentlemen.”Tristan’s brow furrowed.He wasn’t familiar with that particular shop, hadn’t a clue as to the variety of merchandise sold there.Yet the way Tristan held his gaze indicated he suspected there was a meaning to Max’s words that he didn’t quite catch.He’d become familiar with a few of the shop’s goods soon enough.Max set his glass on the side table and stood.“I believe I shall retire a bit early tonight.”* * *Tristan watched as Max’s broad-shouldered back disappeared into the corridor, the library door left open behind him.He sat there, half-empty glass in hand, as the rhythmic sounds of Max’s footsteps on the marble floor faded into nothingness.With a quick shake of his head, he jolted himself to his senses.If Max was retiring early, then so should he.He made his way up to his bedchamber.As he turned at the top of the stairs, he caught sight of a servant in a plain black coat opening one of the double doors leading to Max’s rooms.Likely the man’s valet, which meant a good half an hour or so until Max opened the door at his end of the passageway between their rooms.Plenty of time for Tristan to get ready for the night and rumple the sheets on his own bed.He’d spent one of the hours before supper soaking in the tub, which had worked wonders—his arse hadn’t objected to the lengthy formal meal.As he went into his dressing room, he unbuttoned his coat.Discriminating gentlemen.A shop that sold objects of an erotic nature? Including, perhaps, leather goods?He shook his arms free of the coat sleeves, tugged at his cravat.He’d never had need to look for such a shop, hadn’t a notion where they were in London, yet he knew the drawers in the chests at Rubicon’s hadn’t filled themselves.There had to be some places in the City that dealt with such goods, and it appeared Max might know the location of at least one of those shops.After stripping off the rest of his clothes and putting them in the basket for a maid to see to, he went into the washroom, anticipation building in his veins.Max was a damned tease, but he was a very good tease and one who always followed through, never disappointed.Oh hell no, Max never disappointed when it came to activities in the bedchamber.Clad in a fresh pair of trousers and a white shirt, he was surprised to find the door at the end of the passageway open when he peeked inside.He’d expected it to still be shut, for Max to leave him in suspense a while longer.Though Tristan certainly wasn’t going to object if Max wasn’t in the mood to allow his valet to dally.He found Max not in bed waiting for him, but in an armchair situated near the fireplace and wearing a pair of trousers.Reaching behind him, Tristan shut the door to the passageway.“Remove your clothes,” Max said, voice lusciously deep.Shirt and trousers were soon on the floorboards.Arms at his sides, he waited for Max’s next command.“You were a very naughty man this afternoon.”Tristan nodded.He couldn’t argue the statement.Sucking Max off when there could have been a maid just paces away did indeed qualify as very naughty.It had also been a fun way to keep Max from behind his desk and to spend some time with him before nightfall.Standing just inside the bedchamber, he swept his gaze over Max.He was sprawled in the chair, one leg casually stretched before him, the other bent.A man at his ease, yet an erection pushed against the placket of his trousers.His dark eyes were intent, pinned on Tristan, chin tipped slightly down and.Max’s hand tightened on the chair’s arm, fingers briefly gripping the brown leather.Tristan sensed the change in Max.The undercurrent of heavy anticipation, the extra layer of determination, and also a touch of nervousness.Whatever was about to come was important to Max in a way their other nights hadn’t been.“Stand at the foot of the bed,” Max said, breaking the silence between them.With a nod, Tristan crossed to the foot of the bed.On the coverlet near one of the posters were two leather cuffs, a bottle of oil and a wooden paddle, the type he’d image a headmaster would favor.And tied to the top of that poster.a leather line, one end brushing the carved wooden post, just waiting to be tied to the steel rings adorning those cuffs.Tristan’s breaths stumbled as lust shot through him.Max had decided to indulge his fondness for leather with him.When he’d engaged in such play in the past, he had endured it more than anything else.Yet with Max, he felt more than merely wanted for his submission.Max wanted Tristan’s pleasure just as much as the man wanted his own.He wouldn’t be left tied to the headboard after the client had finished with him.Wouldn’t have to hold back the plea to stop.With Max, he’d be begging the man for more, and only receive as much as he could take and not one smack of the paddle more.Bowing his head, he did his best to stand still.Max most assuredly liked it when he begged and pleaded, but he knew Max wanted patience from him at that particular moment.He heard the creak of leather, then the soft sounds of bare feet against floorboards.It took all his willpower to keep from glancing to Max out of the corner of his eye as the man approached.Everything went quiet.He could sense Max standing directly behind him, could almost feel the heat pouring off his strong body.A large hand coasted down his back.A shiver of delight raced over his skin.He wanted to push back, push into Max’s touch, get more of it, yet he stayed still.That hand skimmed over his hip.Instead of grasping his erection, Max reached around him for the leather cuffs.“Turn around.”Another jolt of anticipation rocked through him.Keeping his gaze averted to the floor, he turned.There was a light clink of metal against metal.“Look at me.”Tristan pulled his gaze up Max’s body, didn’t pause to admire the hard arch tenting the placket, the thin line of dark hair that disappeared behind the waistband of his trousers or the broad expanse of his bare chest.“Any objections?” Max murmured, holding out the cuffs in one hand.“None at all.”Cupping the back of Tristan’s head with his free hand, Max brought their lips together.The kiss fierce while at the same time gentle.And kept much too brief for Tristan’s liking.Breaking the kiss, Max dragged his hand down Tristan’s arm, lifted his wrist.First one then the other, Max buckled the cuffs in place, his dark brows lowered, expression focused and intent.The leather was thick and substantial but soft enough to not leave marks if he tugged a bit while restrained.As Max did up the buckle on the second cuff, a thought occurred to him.Tristan glanced up, to the ceiling overhead.A paddling wasn’t a quiet endeavor, and they weren’t the only two individuals in the house.“Will anyone overhear us?” He tipped his head to the paddle on the mattress.“No.” A flick of Max’s fingers, and the leather was secured beneath its keeper.“But aren’t servants’ quarters usually in the garret?”“Yes.On the other side of the house.There’s only storage above our rooms.I doubt the trunks and old furniture will much mind a bit of noise.” Max palmed Tristan’s hips, turned him slightly to the side.“Back now.”Following the pressure of Max’s hands, Tristan stepped back until his shoulder blade touched the wooden post.He knew what the next command would be before Max spoke.“Arms up [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]