The Naughty Ward (historical romantica)

Alexander winced. Again.

Neither one had touched his breakfast. William hadn’t even sat down. Instead, he was pacing the length of the very long dining room shouting and barely letting Alex get a word in edge-wise.

“Who do you think you are? You disobey me at every turn. Do you think this will go on forever? Do you bloody well think I will allow it? Do you, boy?

Alex opened his mouth to try to formulate an answer, but another round of shouting erupted.

“I am the Duke of Westchester... does that mean nothing to you? I brook no disobedience from anyone... family... servants... and least of all my ward. I took you in... I can put your arse out into the cold just as easily...”

Harsh, cutting words. Alexander bit his lip, but bled only from the inside.

“I don’t owe you anything. I owed your father a debt... I told him I’d take care of you until your majority and I’ve kept my word. You would do well to tread more lightly Alexander... I am at the end of my patience.”

When the Duke turned around and pinned him with his cool blue stare, Alex felt his stomach tighten. He wouldn’t... would he... Could he? All this because he didn’t want to accept his love?

“I am shipping you off to university. Your father wanted you to be a learned man...”

“William, no... I promise to behave better, I’ll...”

“My mind is made up. Do not try to change it. Alexander,” he warned, “Do not push me or cross me. I will make the arrangements and you will leave for school in seven days. In the meantime, I expect you to be contrite and polite. Pull any of your tricks and...” William didn’t bother to finish his sentence, opting instead to stride to the door, open it and close it soundlessly behind him.

That was when the tears welled up in Alexander’s eyes. Hopes and dreams... wishes, all ground to bits under his lordship’s champagne polished boots. He was being set aside, the way William set aside so many of his doxies... never to be seen or spoken of again.

* * *

Alexander had hoped against hope that William wouldn’t be able to pull it off. But the Duke had so many connections, sat on so much wealth, and had a tongue that could charm or lash and slid easily between the two extremes... he’d managed the impossible... to find him a spot so late in the school term.

And tonight, they were having a farewell party of all things. Alexander kicked the leg of his bed, then hopped about in agony. “Fucking hell...” Tomorrow, just past mid day, the coach would carry him away... away from here... away from his beloved William. If it weren’t for that, he might not have gone out to socialize. But he wanted to see William, and he’d caught very few glimpses of the man since they’d had their big row.

A knock sounded on the door. “Master Alexander, the guests are asking for you.”

“The guests be damned.”

“Sir?”

“Oh for God’s sake... I’ll be there.” Alex walked to the nightstand and picked up the stiff drink he’d poured for himself. He knew he ought not have too much, or he’d get emotional... and William would get angry... and things would come to a head again.

By the time he entered the drawing room, the party was in full swing. The doors to the veranda leading to the formal gardens were open and people were enjoying the last remnants of sunshine.

Naturally, William dominated the room. He was leaning against the chimneypiece, looking bored, and yet holding court. Their gazes met. Alexander gave him a bold look... what had he to lose?

There was no telling who would have won that battle of wills had a group of youths, invited just for Alexander, not swept him out to the garden. He wished they’d stayed away. Had he imagined the heat in those piercing blue eyes that had been so cold of late?

Perhaps a plan was in order...

William played the perfect host, making sure that with his staff’s assistance, everyone’s needs were met. He kept the men busy with talk of horseflesh and hunting, and the women charmed with his talk of... nothing he would remember later.

The drinks flowed, and he partook more than he ordinarily might this early on in the evening. But there seemed to be a hole inside him, one that he was trying to fill without quite realizing it. And it seemed to grow wider every time he saw his ward.

Alexander, who he’d seen so little of, seemed to be doing all right. On the outside. But William watched him more carefully, went beneath the smiles and wild gestures the boy made as he told his stories. It was all in his expressive brown eyes... a deep sadness, which sometimes caught fire when their glances met, making even the hardened Duke squirm with thoughts of the bedroom.

William’s quelling glances should have frozen the boy in his tracks, but instead, Alexander seemed to grow bolder and more insolent as the night wore on.

“William.”

Feeling his sleeve get tugged, William stopped and found himself with Alex and two young women.

“I was just telling Sarah and Anne about your theories on love.”

“He’s flummoxing us. Surely you believe...”

“No, he does not. Tell them there’s no such thing as love, William.” Alexander’s eyes locked with the older man. “Tell me, me there’s no such thing.”

Will’s features turned to granite. “Alex...”

“Wil-liam,” he mimicked. “Tell them that men don’t think with their hearts, that they think with their randy—“

“Excuse us, ladies,” William tugged Alexander away from them and pushed him up against a pillar, partially hidden from the view of the other guests. “What are you playing at.”

“Tell me I don’t love you.”

“God damn it all, Alex... you’ve been drinking. Stop drinking, and pull yourself—“

“Fuck me William... right now, let’s find a place—“

“Shut up. Now.”

“Or what? You’ll throw me over your shoulder? That only makes my cock stiffen—“ choking because the Duke had grasped him by the collar, Alexander still managed to press the lower half of his body against the Duke. “Don’t deny me. Us,” he croaked, before he was pulled forward and slammed against the hard stone.

“Enough. If you can’t hold your liquor, and your mouth, you shall go to your room and stay there. Do you want to--” William pulled back suddenly and gave a pleasant smile, as Alex’s friends arrived and called him to go out to the garden.

“Thank you for the advice, William.” Alexander gave him a hug, and a loud kiss on the cheek, making the others laugh at his clownish behavior. William might be fuming, but Alex had the satisfaction of having felt the man’s body react. There was more than one stiff cock between the two of them.

Later... he noticed that William was doing some heavy drinking of his own. Another point, no matter how minor, in his favor.

After dinner, William noticed Alexander had been missing for quite some time. Unable to rid himself of the feeling that the boy had gotten himself into some coil, he started to search for him, making a few inquiries. When someone mentioned the possibility that he was at the stables, showing the Barrington boy one of the horses, another feeling gripped Will. That Barrington boy hadn’t been on the invitation list, but another guest had brought him along. If anyone could lead Alex astray, it was that gangly blond.

Lengthening his strides, William was almost to the stable when he saw Alex walk out. His snowy white shirt was undone and bore some red stains. Frowning and about to demand to know what happened, he noticed the distinct movements of Alexander’s mouth. Then that wicked tongue came out, presenting William with a cherry – its stem tied in a perfect not.

“I thought I forbid the servants from buying—“

The Barrington boy walked out, pulling at his clothes and giving Alexander a special look. “I know they’re out of season but I have my sources. Would you like one?” He held a little silver bowl out. “Alex was teaching me... how to do that trick and a few others.”

William’s piercing stare flicked between the two young men. As if he couldn’t read between the lines... as if he didn’t know why the Barrington boy was snickering. Did he really think he was pulling one over on him? Anger simmered and coursed through William’s system.

“William, would you like my cherry?” Alex wiggled his tongue around, the cherry balancing on it. “Or should I give it to—“

William’s gaze flicked to the boy’s tongue. How could he torment him so? How dare he manipulate him so? How dare the other boy stand there and laugh at him?

Hot fury welled up inside the Duke. He wanted to beat them both senseless... he wanted to wipe those smirks off their faces, he wanted to show them who could make Alex cry out... who could make him shake and shiver... beg... make him forget the boy who brought cherries for presents.

Holding onto his control by merely a thread, he roughly pushed Alexander toward the house. “Go to your room, and don’t make me say it again.” He turned to the Barrington boy. “Get off my premises. I don’t want to see you. Ever.”

“But... yes your Grace.” The young man all but ran off to the courtyard, presumably to have his friend’s coach drive him away.

William turned and stared at Alexander’s retreating figure. His jaw pulsed as he watched the boy saunter away, shrugging his bloody shirt off and giving him a glimpse of his of his smooth back under the moonlight.

The boy thought he won. But tomorrow, he’d be carted off to school.

The thought left a heavy coldness in the pit of the Duke’s stomach.

*

Hours after his guests left, and after he’d drained more than his fair share of spirits, trying desperately to numb himself into oblivion, the Duke propelled his mostly empty glass into the fireplace, and watched the fire spit and hiss before dying down. He stood... knocked some ledgers off his desk and didn’t bother to pick them up.

Sleep was what he needed. But when he reached his chambers, the door to the bathroom was open and he could hear the sound of water. Light flickered from the fireplace in his chamber, as well as from the lantern in the bathroom. What the bloody hell was going on? He hadn’t asked the servants to run a bath at this hour of the night.

As he strode inside, he found steam rising from his deep French bath, and Alexander sitting in it. Naked as the day he was born, and with his clothes neatly piled on the washstand, the boy was giving him that unabashed smile... the one he’d flashed at the Barrington boy.

Furious sparks leapt from William’s eyes. “Get out.”

Alexander shook his head. “Join me.”

“I said...” In two strides, he was at the edge of the tub and pulling the boy out of it.

Alex winced at the pain from his knee getting knocked onto the edge of the porcelain tub, but wrapped his arms around William. “I want you to fuck me.”

“No.” As the boy’s heated body slid against his own, the graphic suggestion had the Duke’s sex straining against his breeches. His clothes absorbed the water clinging to Alex’s skin, grew damp. Aware of every angle and plane of his ward’s body, tormented by thoughts of where that mouth of his had been, or where it could be, his fingers dug into Alex, dragging him up harder against him.

Fuck... Fuck... Fuck...

The Duke’s control snapped. He brought his mouth down over Alexander’s in a rough savage kiss, grinding his hips into the boy’s, groaning as his breeches grew wetter...warmer.

“Oh God yes...”

“No,” he snarled, even as he took the boy’s mouth again, fucked it with his tongue... tried to eradicate the memory of another.

“Fuck me Will.”

“No... no... no,” William ground out his denial, and yet he molded Alex’s body to his, and picked him up. Even as he walked to his bedchamber, he was thrusting hard... ravaging the boy’s mouth... trying to ease the fires that consumed him. His blood sang in his veins, pounded relentlessly in his temples.

Alexander found himself tossed on the bed. Immediately he stretched his arms out. “Don’t send me away Will.”

His answer was a blistering glare from the man dropping his pants. Love swelled up in Alex’s heart. “You love me.”

Again there was no answer, but the Duke was on top of him, forcing his knees apart. That savage predatory look was on his face. He wouldn’t listen, but Alex tried. “You do.”

The ache in William’s loins was unbearable. As he prepared Alex for his entry, he fucked the boy’s leg and used his mouth to silence his words. He’d had enough. Enough of temptation, enough disobedience, enough of these tumultuous feelings that raged inside at the crook of the boy’s finger. He would show him who was in control.

Peeling the boy’s arms off him, he forced them up, above his head... gripped his wrists tight, to show him who had the upper hand as he breached him, driving deep ...so deep ... blinded by lust and need... moving harder, driving harder, ignoring the pleas to let him stay, the pleas to admit a love that could not be.

Alex gasped at the pleasure and pain and lifted his hips higher. Every penetration was a stark possession, whether the Duke realized it or not, every snarl, every angry denial, a confirmation of what Alexander knew was the truth. “Harder, lo—“

“Shut up. Put your legs around me.” Arching into the boy, William fucked and fucked, his muscles straining to the point of exhaustion... but he was a man, driven beyond reason. No man should yearn like this... need like this... want like this. No man should want to crawl into the skin of another. And here he was, in the grips of a mad frenzy, each powerful thrust of his hips inching him closer to release. Harder, faster... it went on and on... a part of him registering the wetness that spread across his belly and the sounds that Alex made as he came... but his body still raging with desire.

Whiskey and desperation, that was what the Duke tasted like and felt like. Reveling in the fact he’d brought the Duke to this state, and able to concentrate now that he’d found his release, Alexander bucked up, squeezing his channel.... squeezing, milking William’s cock with every drag, every thrust. He hurt... he ached... but it was what he wanted... what he’d hoped for. “Fuck me, harder... that’s it... let my arms go... let me help you... let me... Oh God Will....”

The rest of the night was a blur... Alex on top, grinding his ass into William, William on top... still thrusting wildly... until a guttural scream finally erupted from him as he climaxed deep inside Alexander, collapsing over him in exhaustion.

*

William didn’t wake until it was well past luncheon. Memories of the night invaded his hazy mind and had him groaning into his pillow. He shouldn’t have drunk so much... but that boy could drive anyone to drink.

Throat parched, head pounding, and his body feeling the strains of the night’s extremes, he finally managed to get out of bed. Opting to dress himself rather than call for the valet, he chose somber colors, making him look every inch the severe noble he needed to appear when he ushered Alexander into the coach that would take him to school.

Then this nightmare would be over.

*

“Where is he?” William thundered. “The coach is loaded and waiting for him.”

“Your Grace... he... Master Alexander he left a few hours ago. He was eating his breakfast and I brought him his mail. He said you’d left a missive to meet him at...”

“I did no such thing.”

Anger coursed through William. He couldn’t believe the boy had disobeyed again.

“But the note... I was sure...”

Dismissing the servant, William strode to Alexander’s chambers. It looked strangely bare, since his belongings had been packed and taken away. On the nightstand was a book. He recognized it as the book in which Alex scribbled his poems. But a bit of paper was sticking out of it. William pulled it out and froze.

It was the invitation to the virgin auction at the Hell Fire Club. Alex hadn’t lied. But who’d sent it to him. And if someone sent him the original invitation... where had Alex been invited today?

That cold feeling was back in the pit of his stomach. By whom?

(A/N: Please comment :) Also, if you want just notice of updates on my fics, please join: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Bloody_Bad_Poet_Fic/ )