T he news of Hiram Kamish's passing came an hour after Fam had returned to the house on Brick Lane.
A young boy had come in a pony cart from Bevis Marks with a note.
Fam had wandered about the house in his breeches, shirt, and boots for hours in search of he knew not what.
The case clock on the first-floor landing struck midnight.
Where had the time gone? For some reason he found himself on the third floor standing before the door to the marquess's son's chamber.
Sullivan had reported the man had indeed said nothing and caused no trouble since his trip across the rooftops of White Chapel.
Fam pulled the key from his waistband and unlocked the door with as little noise as possible.
The fire still glowed in the hearth. There were no other lights in the room.
The candles had been snuffed and the lamps turned all the way down.
He walked softly to the bed and gazed down at the sleeping lord.
He wrenched himself away and started to leave until he spotted an inkwell and parchment on the table before the fire.
He made his way to the table and sat down in one of the chairs.
Once he'd pulled the parchment to him, he realized there were several starts to a letter.
One addressed to Elbridge and one addressed to Father. Nothing more, just the opening lines.
"I am sorry about your friend."
Fam started. Ethan was sitting up in bed watching him.
"Sullivan told me you were called away to a dying friend. I am sorry."
"Why?" Fam asked. "You didn't know him."
"I wouldn't imagine a man like you has many friends. I know I don't. Seems to me losing one would be...sad."
"I suppose," Fam replied. He was not used to sharing the details of his life with anyone, save his brothers and his sister, Nell, before she left them for a better life in Mayfair.
"Why are you here?" Ethan asked. Fam heard the rustle of bedclothes and suddenly the man appeared with a quilt wrapped about him. He sat in the chair across from him. "I realize this is your house, and you may go where you please, but why are you here? Now."
"I don't bloody know," Fam replied. "How's that for an answer?"
"It'll do, I suppose."
"Why did you watch me at Missus Greene's?" Fam secretly reveled in the shocked expression on his captive's face.
"Why?"
"Yes, why did you watch me with Derek? Is he a favorite of yours?"
"I wasn't watching Derek. I was watching you." In the light of the fire, the gold in his hair glistened. His eyes took on an amber hue and the green nearly disappeared. "I saw you with my brother and followed you to the brothel. I was fascinated by you, actually."
"Was?" Fam was drawn into the intimacy of the conversation. There was nothing coy or shy about Ethan. He was a creature nearly wholly formed for pleasure. He founded himself wanting to kiss him again.
"Still am, unfortunately." Ethan sighed.
"Why?"
"I don't bloody know," he replied with a slight smile.
Fam laughed.
"Don't laugh," Ethan said. "You never laugh, and when you do it makes me want to..." He looked away.
"Makes you want to what?" Fam's voice had grown tight and rough. He shifted in his chair in an effort to relieve the chafing of his hardened cock against his breeches. He needed to go. This was such a bad idea. So very bad. He bit the inside of his cheek.
Ethan stood and dropped the quilt to the floor.
He was gloriously naked. The firelight bathed his skin in shades of bronze and gold.
His cock lay long and thick against his leg.
He padded gracefully across the floor and moved Fam's chair to face him.
When he dropped to his knees Fam gripped the arms of the chair and forced himself to breathe.
With nimble fingers Ethan unbuttoned Fam's falls and freed his cock.
He stroked him once, twice, and hummed in what sounded like appreciation.
Fam closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair.
The first few flicks of Ethan's tongue caused him to jerk slightly.
Ethan laughed softly, but Fam refused to open his eyes.
After a few swirls of the man's hot, wet tongue, Fam could not catch his breath. Then Ethan took him into his mouth.
"Oh...God..." Fam moaned. He never spoke when someone did this to him.
Never. He never watched, and he never spoke.
Not so tonight. Not so with this temptation incarnate.
When Ethan began to draw on his cock so hard as to be almost painful, Fam had no choice but to look down and watch.
The beautiful aristocrat sucked and used his tongue to trace every vein and ridge.
When he glanced up at Fam his eyes shone with desire, fierce and fiery.
He braced his hands on Fam's thighs and spread them apart so he could wedge himself between them.
He drew his lips tightly up and down in slow, long strokes and then quick deep strokes.
The harder he sucked and the faster he went, the more tightly he squeezed Fam's thighs.
He would bring him to the brink and then slow to allow the sensation to ebb only to bring him to the edge once more.
Fam made himself let go of the chair with one hand and ran his fingers through Ethan's hair as his head rose and fell.
He guided him with his hand, urging him to go faster and harder.
His chest pumped like a bellows. He bit his lip to keep from babbling like a fool, so good and right every moment felt.
Suddenly, Ethan released one of Fam's thighs.
He watched as Ethan reached between his own legs and began to work his own cock as he continued to pump Fam's cock with his mouth.
Ethan's sighs and groans vibrated around Fam's cock until he could bear no more.
The wet sounds of the two cocks being pumped filled the room, surrounded him.
The musk permeated the air until all he could smell was sweat and cocks ready to come at any moment.
He used his hand to speed up Ethan's strokes and began to thrust himself into the sensual creature's voracious mouth.
"Fuck!" he groaned as reached his release.
Ethan kept at him over and over again until he finally released him with a sharp cry and collapsed against Fam's knees.
The sound of their broken breathing echoed in the silent room.
When he caught his breath, Fam snatched his hand away from Ethan's silky mane and swiftly buttoned his falls.
"Why did you do that?" he demanded, his voice full and rough once more.
Ethan raised his head and stared at him, his eyes still wide and alight with desire. "You're full of questions tonight." He swiped his hand across his mouth. "Among other things, I won't ask if you enjoyed it. I know I did."
"You didn't answer my question." Fam was suddenly angry, and he realized with horrified disbelief wanting more.
Ethan sighed. "I wanted to, and you looked as if you needed.
..someone to touch you. Some kindness." He continued to hold Fam's gaze as if he expected something from him.
As always, Fam allowed his mind to entertain all the nefarious ways men used his sensual appetites to try and destroy him or to win favors from him.
He refused to even consider this man's desire for him had anything to do with affection or even interest. No one wanted him for himself, only for what he might do for them.
"You wanted to, or you hoped if you did a good job sucking my cock, I might let you go?"
Ethan stood and backed away. He retrieved the dropped quilt and wrapped the thick worn cover around himself.
"Do you turn everything in your life into something ugly on purpose or is this simply the way you view the world?
I know better than to think you'd give up a chance at the ransom money for a mere penny suck. "
"Don't sell yourself so cheap, Ethan. I'd pay at least thruppence for your performance.
Do you often prostitute yourself for favors or was what you did to me for amusement only?
Perhaps practice for the future? You could give Derek a run for his money at Missus Greene's.
" The words burned like acid on his tongue, but Fam had not the power to stop.
In any fight once he started, he went blind and only knew to strike until his opponent surrendered.
The way Ethan stood wrapped in a quilt, eyes blazing, he had no intention of surrendering.
"I didn't do anything to you. We did it together.
" He stepped closer and glared down at Fam who could not have risen from his chair if he'd wanted to at this moment.
"And you can lie to yourself all you want, Mister Dyer , but you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Now get out of my fucking chamber."
"What?" Fam blinked a few times as Ethan's words sank into his mind.
"Get. The fuck. Out. I'm tired, and I want to go to bed." He was good to his word as he strode back to the bed and sat on the side of the mattress. His eyes, no longer bright, never left Fam's face.
For once, Fam had no idea what to say or do. He stood and adjusted his breeches. His damned cock was already hard again, damn him. "You won't be going free until your father pays the ransom. Remember that, and your time here will be uneventful. Do we understand each other?"
"Oh, I understand," Ethan replied, his lip curled in disdain. "I understand you truly are a soulless, heartless shell of a man, and I won't ever mistake you for anything other than the murdering, mindless beast you are. Good night... Mister Dyer ."
Fam left the room and locked the door behind him.
He descended the stairs on legs that began to wobble and nearly gave out once he made his way into his study.
Smudge blinked at him from his comfortable chair by the hearth.
Fam fell into his desk chair and stared at the shadows cast about the room by the light of the fire.
The day's events closed in on him like the screaming crowd at a boxing match.
Everything. Dragging Ethan across the rooftops, Hiram Kamish's death, his erotic encounter with Ethan which had not quelled his desire for the damned aristocrat, but only made that desire stronger.
With an anguished roar, he swept the top of his desk clean.
The crystal bowl shattered as it bounced across the floor and hit the flagstones before the fireplace.
I won't ever mistake you for anything other than the murdering, mindless beast you are.
He didn't realize he was weeping until the first tears he'd shed since he was a child dropped onto his hand.