Chapter Three

The door groaned open and Anthony almost left his skin. He rose from the wingback near the hearth and faced the intruders. Masked, like the man who delivered him to this room, he couldn’t see their features.

“You’re in a passel of trouble, my friend.” The rich voice drifted across the room. “Mister Beresford sent us to entertain you until he can deal with the trespass of his property.”

Anthony felt his forehead break out in a fine bead of sweat. Menacing in their stature and stance, he wanted to bolt, but they stood in front of the door like eagles watching over their nest. “We weren’t really trespassing, that is, we had no idea the knoll rested on Beresford Hall property.”

“Well, now you know,” said the second man, and something in his inflection rang familiar.

The men exchanged glances. “What do you suggest we do with him to while away the time, Ryder?”

“Appease his curiosity, of course.” The first man walked toward him with the one called Ryder chasing the heels of his high-top boots. “You may call me Devon, and you already know his name.” He rocked his head back with a quick jerk. “Ryder.”

“Yes, sir, I mean, sirs.”

“That’s a good boy. As long as you listen with a sound ear and follow instructions, I think we shall get along famously. Now,” Devon’s caramel eyes gleamed through the slits of the black hood. “Remove your clothing, every stitch.”

“What? You can’t be serious. I didn’t come here―”

Devon’s hand came out and connected hard with his cheek. “Lesson number one. Unless you want us to force you, painfully, I might add, you will obey on first command. Do you understand?”

Anthony placed a hand to his burning cheek. “This is all a mistake; I demand to speak with Dominic Beresford right―”

Another flat-palmed slap sent Anthony’s head reeling. Ryder stood abreast of Devon, his piercing green eyes raking him over head to toe. “I’d do his bidding or it’s going to be a long night.”

Again, the familiar voice scrambled his brain. And something about the forest-green eyes nudged his benumbed mind. No, it couldn’t be Martin, and yet, he’d seen that look in his friend’s eyes before—a lust-filled, exhilarating gaze that caused his skin to prickle. Could it be?

When Devon took another step forward, Anthony moved faster than he ever thought possible. His fingers shook as he unbuttoned his cambric shirt, and his hands shook worse when he shrugged it from his shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor. He fumbled with the buttons on his trousers, shoved them down his hips, and did his best to cover his flaccid cock with one hand.

“The stockings and boots,” Devon said.

Ryder walked across the room, retrieved a slat-backed chair and set it in the middle of a large, carpeted area, between two wingbacks and a tapestry sofa. Anthony heard a series of creaks and groans as Ryder settled into the chair. He waited; every muscle in his body drawn into a tangled mass of knots.

Devon’s eyes sparked behind the hood. “I believe Ryder is waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“Oh, come now, you aren’t as naïve as you would have us believe. There’s a penance for trespassing on private property. Furthermore, Mr. Beresford cannot take the chance you might spill your guts over what you saw.”

“I didn’t see anything, sir. I swear.”

“Enough! I told you Ryder awaits your service. Must I force you?”

With head bowed, Anthony crossed the short distance and stood before Ryder.

From behind, Devon’s breath whispered over the nape of his neck. Anthony felt pressure on his shoulders as the man urged him to his knees.

After unbuttoning his trousers, Ryder pulled his engorged member out and stroked it. “Suck, it boy.”

Anthony swallowed and stared at the purple cock with the wide, mushroom-shaped head. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Of its own volition, his own sex expanded and jerked to life. Good God, how had he gotten himself into such a situation? Why had he allowed Craven to talk him into spying on Beresford Hall every Friday night for the last month?

If he refused to comply with their demands . . . Oh, God, he didn’t want to think what the powerfully built men would do to him. His neck constricted with the hard swallow. He looked again at the man’s swollen cock, mesmerized by the glistening liquid droplets oozing from it.

His hand came out and took hold of Ryder’s quivering shaft. He expected to encounter a rough, almost coarse texture, but it felt soft as milkweed floss. He had the sudden urge to lap up the pearly drops and nip the thick, bulbous head.

Drawn to it like a hapless fly on the periphery of a spider’s web, he licked his lips and ran his tongue along one side and next the other. Tiny beads of precum leaked from the tip, drawing him by scent, pulling him in until he wrapped his lips around the throbbing member and sucked.

The man tasted of salt and musk. Ryder emitted a low-browed grunt and rocked his hips into Anthony’s mouth. “Swallow it, all of it; take it deep in your throat. Ah, yes, that’s it, all of it.”

So focused on the task before him Anthony didn’t feel Ryder’s arms slip around his shoulders to hold him firm until it was too late. Chains clanked against metal near his feet, but held in that immobile position, he couldn’t see the commotion behind him. A binding of some sort circled his ankles; leather, he thought. Moments later, his knees were pushed apart and he heard metal scrape against the floorboards. Devon fastened the knee cuffs to the sturdy bar, rendering him virtually paralytic.

His heart hammered in his chest, and although frightened, he’d never felt such a rush of exhilaration. He’d fantasized a thousand times about being used by a man, but never did he think it would happen with two, much less without having to seek it out. Tremors wracked his body and the anticipation of what came next seemed unbearable.

Against his mouth, Ryder’s cock throbbed and pulsated. An innate sense told him the man struggled to hold his orgasm in check. A groan left Anthony’s lips when Devon slid a finger inside his rectum and probed deeply.

He tried to lift his head, but Ryder held him firmly in place. “Just relax, my little spy. Concentrate on my cock and Devon will bring you more pleasure than you ever imagined.”

Anthony cried out from the mind-numbing sensations. Devon removed his finger and pushed two up his ass, eliciting a noise from him that sounded like a mouse squealing. While pummeling him with his skilled digits, Devon reached for his sacs with his other hand and caressed them. Shame and exquisite pleasure surged through him. An orgasm crested and jolts of bliss tore through him.

While he was on the brink of an endless chasm, Devon removed his fingers and placed his hard cock at the entrance of his hole, grabbing him firmly by the hips. A series of cries left his throat when Devon buried himself several inches into his ass.

With his mouth still wrapped around Ryder’s cock, he moaned, the pleasure/pain intense and mingling until he couldn’t distinguish one from the other. Anthony’s body spasmed as Devon began a tortuous assault, plunging and retreating in measured strokes. The pain that had erupted from somewhere deep inside slowly ebbed, replaced by an ecstasy that left him dazed. Sweat streamed from his forehead and the muscles in his legs and arms screamed out in protest. Wantonly, he bore down on Ryder’s cock while pushing backwards to meet Devon’s hard thrusts, taking him in to the hilt.

A soul-tearing orgasm exploded in Anthony, simultaneous to the load Ryder shot into his mouth. No longer capable of holding back, he came fierce and intense, and in perfect time to Devon emptying his seed into his ass.

Weak, his breaths coming in hard, short bursts, Anthony collapsed against Ryder and tried to still his thundering heart. Devon pulled his cock from his sore hole and out of the corner of his eye, Anthony watched the man walk to a nearby bureau to retrieve a towel. He returned, gently spread his buttocks apart and wiped him clean before unfastening the leather cuffs from the metal bar.

Ryder stroked the hair at the side of his head. “You did good, boy, very good. I’m going to remember this for as long as I live.”

“Yes,” Devon said his voice low. “I pray you’ll come back and spy on Beresford Hall again.”

Anthony rose on wobbly legs, stumbled toward the tapestry sofa in the room, and collapsed onto it with a protracted sigh. He closed his eyes, concentrated on his breathing, and wondered if his heart would ever resume its normal pace.

When next he opened his eyes, the room stood empty. Lying on the arm of the sofa, only the black hoods remained. He reached out and touched them to confirm it hadn’t been a dream, a figment of his depraved, perverted mind. Long minutes later, he rose from the sofa, walked to his trousers and shirt and plucked them from the floor. His fundament hurt and his internal muscles screamed out in protest. Shivers claimed him. Every caress, every glorious second had been real.

The memory of Ryder’s dark green eyes behind the hood loomed. Martin Hubbard, he was certain of it now. Oh, God, what would happen the next time he and Craven came face-to-face with the man at the university? He couldn’t avoid Martin, not when he shared two classes with him.

Craven wouldn’t believe what had happened to him, and there was no way he could possibly explain the glorious interlude. He’d spy on Beresford Hall every night of his life to be rewarded thus.

Craven! Christ, in his delirium, he’d forgotten about his best friend.