William groaned, pulling apart Laurent’s legs and rocking his hips against him. There was no denying that he was aroused by what they were doing, and it both frightened and excited Laurent in turn. His head spun, and he wasn’t sure what to think, lying flat on the bed still in his Sunday best. But it was William Fane, so who was he to ask him to get off for just enough time that would allow Laurent to take off his coat and waistcoat?
Laurent’s heart rattled when he thought of the stiff cock in William’s breeches stabbing into him later. It was all happening too fast, but he still went with it, knowing that there was no running away now. That he was almost twenty years of age and he would finally fulfil his potential, Goddammit!
A metal cuff closed around his wrist, and he whimpered when William bit on his tongue, drawing blood.
Chapter 3 - Laurent
Something in Laurent withered.
And when he looked up to see an iron shackle around his wrist, for a few moments he was too stunned to realize that the other end of the short chain was attached to the thick bed frame.
“There. I thought you’d never stop your theatrics,” William said, holding Laurent’s other hand down.
“My-my theatrics?” Laurent whimpered, struggling against the grip, still unable to comprehend what was happening. “What are you doing?” All excitement drained out of his body, and he thought back to the two locks holding the cellar shut.
The lack of servants.
The questions about whether anyone knew Laurent was coming here.
William laughed and patted his palm against Laurent’s cheek, as if he were a little boy. “Oh, I’m so scared, Mr. Fane. Can we just talk over dinner?” William mumbled in a high-pitched, sugary tone before suddenly leaning down over Laurent and all but barking his next words. “No. We cannot.”
The mockery cut right through Laurent’s heart. He couldn’t believe what was happening. “How can a man be so cruel?” Laurent choked out, forcing himself not to cry, sure it would be the source of yet more humiliation. “My employer knows I was coming to your house! Get off me, and I will forget this ever happened!” He shoved at William’s shoulder with his shackled hand. William held his other hand so hard Laurent worried his wrist would snap. And of what value would he be if he wasn’t able to write anymore?
William held him down, crooking his head in an expression of curiosity, but the handsome lines of his face transformed into a grotesque mask beyond the veil of blur. “No, you were eaten by wolves. My servant will make sure someone finds the books in the woods. And your bloodstained coat. No one will know you were here.”
Blood drained from Laurent’s face when he realized the meaning behind those words. William wanted to keep him here? For what? He knew the answer, since it surely wasn’t for conversation. He’d planned this. It was why he had Laurent walk through the forest at night. So that he could later claim that Laurent simply never arrived at his property and possibly even join the search party in a perverted mockery to the justice system. The betrayal of a man Laurent thought of as a potential friend and lover cut deep, but the fear for his life was much more visceral.
Someone so twisted could not possibly be human.
“You’re a monster!” Laurent yelled, breathless with panic. What had been the struggle of a moth in a puddle of tar before, became a ferocious battle for freedom. The iron shackles rattled with each move he made, digging into his flesh, but it was no use, and the rough metal sawed at his skin. “What inhuman beast does such a thing? I’ve done nothing to deserve this!”
“Didn’t we just agree that a man has the right to take from life what he wants? I happen to want pretty young men.” William moved one hand down Laurent’s thigh. It made Laurent thrash harder, knocking his knee into the sensitive place under William’s arm over and over.
Laurent’s eyes went wide, and realization trickled down his back like water from a melting icicle. This wasn’t the first time William had done this.
“The right to take from life? Not at the cost of another!” He would not be enslaved by this man! Hadn’t seven years of indenture been enough? All he wanted was to be his own man, on his own terms. He would rather die than be a shackled whore waiting for his master!
His hand got so sweaty he managed to slide it out of William’s grip, and he smacked William in the face, putting all his strength into that single desperate hit. He wasn’t even thinking of ways to escape or fight William further. His mind was a blur of fear as if the sickness of the eyes had taken over his thoughts as well.