Sunday, June 12, 2016

A Taste of Honey




A Taste Of Honey
By
Christiane France
www.allromanceebooks.com

Blurb:

Antoine Auguste, Marquis de Vernnay—we first met him in Time Shift - www.allromanceebooks.com, is twenty-four and bored. Bored with women at the house he frequents on la rue Charles V, and bored with the elaborate rituals and devices he must use in order to achieve an orgasm.

But then he meets Honey at an exclusive men’s club, and has his first sexual experience with another man.

One taste of this beautiful, young man with the golden skin and Antoine's life is forever changed. Honey is the only person he can think about and the only person he wants. Honey, however, is a servant of the lowest class, and also the property of another man. Can Antoine discover a way he can separate the two and keep Honey all to himself?

Excerpt:

...After telling his driver to wait, Antoine gave the man his name, along with the bag of coins his manservant had assured him was the price of entry. He then allowed the footman to assist him out of the carriage, feeling a sharp thrill of anticipation as he followed him through the door and into the building.

He’d heard talk of houses where men were trained in the art of pleasuring other men, but it hadn’t amounted to more than a little ambiguous chatter and a lot of lewd sniggering, so he had no real idea what to expect. Inside, it was much darker and more mysterious than the house on la rue Charles V, but at least the salon to which the footman showed him was a tiny scrap brighter. Enough for him to see there were a dozen or more men scattered around the room, either standing or lolling on the chairs, but not enough for him to recognize anyone from this distance.

Just then, a young boy appeared at his side. “Would you care for something to drink, m’sieu.?”

“No, thank you.” Antoine wasn’t about to compound his foolishness in coming to a place like this alone by accepting drinks from unknown sources. For now, he needed to keep his head clear and his wits about him. If he decided to leave at some point, he could do so without difficulty.

As he looked around the room, unsure whether he should sit down and await events, or strike up a conversation with one of the other men, he felt a hand glide down his back and come to rest on his buttocks.

“You are looking for company, mon ami?”

Antoine turned toward the speaker, a sleepy-eyed young man with his hair pulled back in a simple queue, and informally dressed in tan breeches and a partially opened, loose white top that looked rather like a nightshirt. Antoine guessed the man to be perhaps two or three years his junior. “Company?”

The young man smiled and lifted his slim shoulders in an offhand shrug as he moved his hand to the juncture of Antoine’s thighs. “If you wish, we can sit here and talk. Or, if you prefer, we can go to one of the private rooms and get to know one another better.” He paused, his mobile lips twisting in a faint grimace. “Alternatively, if you prefer, I can introduce you to someone else.”

“No. No one else.”

Until tonight, Antoine had never been touched in so intimate a manner by a member of his own sex. He’d never experienced even the slightest urge to be touched like this, and he couldn’t believe he was allowing it to happen now.

But the truth was, he found the experience rather stimulating, and he suspected the man knew it, because the moment the fellow inserted his hand between Antoine’s legs, Antoine had started to stiffen and grow. There was something special about the man now caressing his cock, something in his eyes, and something mysterious and addictive about his touch that Antoine couldn’t identify, but he knew he didn’t want the man to stop. Although poorly dressed compared to everyone else Antoine had seen in this establishment so far, the young stranger had the most wondrous golden skin that appeared to glow in the candlelight.

Antoine’s mouth felt suddenly dry, and he rubbed his tingling fingertips down the side of the his white satin breeches. One glance was enough to tell him that the man’s skin was the kind that just begged to be touched and petted. He could just imagine how it felt…soft like satin, and it probably smelled wonderful, too—a combination of jasmine, roses, verbena, cinnamon and clove and a thousand other exotic spices and scents.

“We give only first names here. Mine’s Honey,” the man said. “What’s yours?”

Cool mysteries and hot romance - http://www.chrisgrover.ca
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